#but i don’t know anyone who was in 9-11. i don’t even know anyone who knows anyone who was in 9-11

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 17

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics, mentioning of pregnancy/babies, family planning, breeding kink* Cavity inducing fluff, mentions of guns and shooting, an unwelcome guest, physical attack, attempted manipulation/revelation of secrets, fingering, hand job, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, bath sex. Summary: Your bachelor/bachelorette surprise comes with a little more than anyone bargained for. Notes: There is just one more chapter left to this story and then an epilogue. Thank you so much to everyone who took this beautiful journey with us! We have loved Marcus and Birdie so much and it is incredibly bittersweet to be wrapping up their story.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16

It’s 9:30 in the morning when Agent Bailey steps aside to let Sydney and Juan into your house. She has been fully apprised of the plans for the day and was even in on a little of the planning, but right how her job is to step aside and let the chaos begin.

“It’s early,” you complain teasingly, coffee in hand, when your best friends stroll into your kitchen with two garment bags and puckish grins on their faces. “And you didn’t even bring our goddaughter to love on?”

“No, she is spending the day with her grandmothers.” Neither grandmother could agree on who would watch her, so they had decided to both spend the day with little Constance. “She knows we have adult plans and she completely approves.” Sydney grins as she shrugs slightly.

“She approves because you left her with Nana and Abuela.” It’s a good strategy, you have to admit that, and you cross the kitchen to hug your best friend. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Today is your bachelor and bachelorette parties.” She smirks at the shock on your face. “That’s why your calendars were blocked out.” Juan chuckles. “And your team is aware that you are unavailable today. Unless the world is ending.” He tells Marcus.

“So our Matron of Honor and Best Man have come to kidnap us?” The slack surprise on your face turns into a shrug. You and Marcus are still in your bathrobes. “You’re gonna have to let us get dressed, guys.”

“Why don’t think we brought clothes?” She shakes the garment bags at you playfully. “Come on, we need to get you both ready, we are on a schedule.”

“I…guess I’ll see you later, then?” You look at Marcus and shrug, laughing at the sideways direction your morning has gone in. So much for catching a matinee.

Juan chuckles as he watches Marcus’s face fall at the thought of not spending today with you. “Cheer up.” He slaps him on the back. “You will like your party.”

Less than an hour later, Marcus and Juan have swept out the door without you getting a single glimpse at your groom, and Sydney has helped you into a pink and white gingham swing dress that looks like it came straight off of Unique Vintage, complete with petticoats and pearl earrings and pink low top Chucks to complete the look. “Are we going dancing all day?” You ask, twirling around in the middle of your bedroom to test how the petticoats move.

“Maybe.” She smirks, changing into her own outfit of black shorts and a t-shirt that is the exact same shade of pink as your dress. ‘Pink Ladies’ is written across the breasts in beautiful white calligraphy. “Maybe not

"Oh my God." You burst out laughing the second you see it. "Am I Sandra Dee?"

“Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee.” she starts to sing, twirling around you playfully.

You hiccup, giggling, and bundle your best friend up into a tight hug after another twirl. “I’m gonna spend all day thinking about Marcus in his leather jacket being the sweetest version of Danny Zuko ever.” Dirty thoughts, that’s what those thoughts are gonna be. “Should we get going?”

Her smile is secretive and she nods. “The rest of the Scooby gang are meeting us there.”

“Girls’ dayyyyyyy.” You sing song, following her out the door and smirking when you see Sydney’s Starbucks app already open on her phone. Coffee means it will be a lengthy drive and now you have absolutely no idea what they could possibly have planned. Well…you do love surprises.

The swing through the coffee chain drive-thru doesn’t take long and soon enough, you are hitting the highway to your destination, although she refuses to connect her phone to the car so you can see how far you have to go. “So, no texting Marcus.” She holds her hand out for your phone. “Juan’s already taken his.”

You crinkle your nose at her but hand your phone over, watching her drop it into her purse and zip the top back up. “That’s fair,” you concede, since you had taken her phone the same way for her bachelorette night out.

“I know it’s fair.” She cackles slightly. “Payback is a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Hey,” you point a finger at her, the others clutching your iced latte. “I told you what we were doing.”

“It would spoil the surprise if you knew.” She defends. “Otherwise you wouldn’t be on pins and needles, now would you?”

“I hate how well you know me.” It’s disingenuous when you huff, but you both grin knowingly.

“Hehehe.” She cackles again and takes a sip of her drink. “T minus ten days to marriage.” She reminds you, as if you don’t have a countdown going on your phone. “Are you ready?”

"More than ready." waiting a year had allowed you to plan a beautiful wedding. But now you're so close you can taste it. "If you're bringing me to a time machine, I'm ready."

“I don’t think you want to miss the last few days.” She jokes. “Even if you aren’t pining for freedom.” She reaches over and squeezes your hand, having deposited your phone into her purse. “I’ve never seen you so happy. Ever.”

“Can I tell you something without you crashing the car?” You ask, glancing over at her as she cuts a clear path down the highway.

“You can tell me anything, always”. She promises. It’s been a theme between the two of you since you first became friends and she doesn’t see that changing.

Since you’re grinning when you look over at her she has no reason to believe it’s bad, but you’re grinning so hard your face might split and tripping over your words. “We…we decided…we started trying for a baby.”

“What?” Her eyes widen and her head whips to the side, and stares at you in disbelief. “Wedding night?”

“We’ve already started,” you admit, knowing your expression is fully flustered and pleased as punch. “I just finished my period, so the first few weeks were unsuccessful.”

“Oh my god.” She has to look back at the road, but the excitement and shock is nearly overwhelming. “I get to be an auntie sooner?”

“Hopefully.” Her excitement has you cackling, and you snort behind your hand. “Just keep your fingers crossed that Marcus’s swimmers work fast.”

“That man has to have fast swimmers.” She snorts and slaps your thigh. “Knocked up in no time.”

“Like I said, fingers crossed.” Once the doctor has given you a clean bill of health, you and Marcus hadn’t wasted time — practically the whole rest of that day had been spent in bed. And much of the hours of each day since.

“I’m so damn excited for you.” She squeals. “Now I’m sad we decided to wait a year to go for the sibling.”

“Syd.” You poke your best friend in the leg as she drives. “It has been a year. If you want to try to be pregnant together, let’s do it.”

“It has!” Another squeal, this one in pure delight, has your ears ringing as Sydney slaps the steering wheel. “Let me talk to Juan! We are having babies together!”

The rest of the drive is endless, joyful chatter and singing along to music until Sydney pulls off the highway and around an odd intersection somewhere in the country of Virginia that puts you on a dirt road marked only with signs for a state fair ground that look fairly defunct. “Um…babe?” You glance back at her nervously. “Is my bachelorette surprise a serial killer?”

“Yes.” She deadpans the response perfectly, looking over at you with a straight face. “We will turn you loose in the woods and if you survive the night, you get to live!”

“I think there’s an episode of Criminal Minds like that,” you toss back, making both of you smirk and bust out in snorting laughter just as the car crests a hill. In the valley ahead of you is an entire carnival ground — and a giant Congratulations! banner over the entrance gate. A simple laugh between friends turns into gasping giggles almost instantly. “Oh holy shit, is that it?” You’re bouncing in your seat as she pulls down the hill toward the parking lot. “Are we going to the state fair? That’s the best!”

“No, this isn’t a state fair.” She doesn’t have to pull up in a parking lot of cars and instead, she’s pulling right up to the roped off gate. “This is your fair.” She tells you with a grin. “Come on.”

There are cars scattered around and as she pulls you out of the car with a gob smacked expression on your face, you slowly start to realize what lengths your friends and beloved siblings and family have been going to for the last year. There is music pouring through the speaker system overhead, the smell of carnival food is in the air, and you can even hear the click and swooshes and background clamor of rides and games. “What the hell?” Is all you can gasp as she pulls you through to the center of the entryway, and you’re instantly bombarded by your bridesmaids.

A scarf is pulled out of Junie’s pocket. “Happy Bachelorette party! Now you have to be blindfolded!” She shrieks happily as she throws her arms around you.

“Oh my god,” you groan playfully, but don’t move a muscle, allowing your sister to blindfold you and your friends to presumably either bring you into the fairgrounds or to release that serial killer that was mentioned earlier.

Every single one of the women are giggling and shuffling around you. Someone taking your shoulders and guiding you forward. “Are you ready?” Selena chuckles softly.

Given that you're practically dancing in place, you nod eagerly and hold your hands behind your back so you don't reach out and try to figure out if there's anything around you. "I'm ready, I'm ready. Show me!"

The musics soundtrack from Grease starts playing. Summer Lovin’ more specifically. They shuffle you forward until you are stopped in the perfect position. “Okay. You can take it off.”

Taking off the blindfold is a little bit of a task with whatever insane knot Junie put in it, but when you eventually pull it off you're face to face with your own fiancé — head to toe in black with his leather jacket and a pompadour in his hair as he carefully removes a blindfold of his own and a pair of noise cancelling headphones.

Marcus’s eyes widen when he sees you, sees your bridesmaids around you. “Sweetheart?” He gasps and everyone starts the shout. “Surprise!”

"Baby!" His confusion is met with your elation, and you both spring forward to hug each other. One look at him and a long glance around you at the fairgrounds and your bridal party...all of that combined with the music has you giggling all over again. "Did you guys..." You keep swiveling, taking in the details as you look around you. "Did you recreate the carnival from the end of Grease?"

“I told you she would get it.” Sydney crows and high fives Selena. “We figured that you would rather have a joint party and just have fun than try to do any of the normal stag party bullshit.” She wraps her arm around Marcus’s cousin’s waist. “Plus Lena spilled the beans that Markie also went through a Grease phase when he got his first motorcycle.”

"Did you..." Your eyes track back up to Marcus with your lip between your teeth and a smirk forming. "Did you guys ride your bikes here?" If so, tonight's baby making endeavors are going to be extra enthusiastic.

Juan smirks, knowing exactly where your mind is going. You and Sydney both find riding motorcycles incredibly sexy for some reason. “Of course he did.”

"I am very not upset about it." And you will absolutely be riding home with him. But there is a whole carnival to have before then. How they pulled this off is completely beyond you, but it's the most wonderful thing you've ever seen in your life.

“Come on!” Junie giggles and starts to hand out the cute little arm bands that had been printed up. It has your initials with Marcus’s and the date printed on it with the little emoji of a Ferris wheel. “The workers know to look for these bands in case there’s someone who wanders in.”

"You guys have thought of everything." The bracelets are going to go straight into the life milestone book that Junie gave you for your bridal shower as soon as you get home, but for now you admire it as Juan and Sydney lead the way into the center of the chaos.

There are all the trappings of a fair. Selena had managed to get in contact with the group that comes from town to town around the area and book them for tonight. Promising special social media spotlight and filming a detailed experience for them to advertise with. Because of that, the promise publicity and the fact they will open to the public for the week after your combined stag party, the price of the day had actually been reasonable. The only difference between the public’s fair and yours is all the personalized banners that have been strung around and the prized at the game booths.

“This is the most insane thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” And that is probably the biggest compliment you could ever give. That and the giggling laughter that is overflowing from you fairly constantly as you explore the carnival. But you’ve spotted the first ride you want to go on and your face splits into a grin when you turn to Marcus again. “Tea cups?”

“Anything you want.” The fact that he is spending his bachelor party with you makes him feel better. Knowing that this will be a party everyone can enjoy and not have to worry about things getting out of hand.

"As long as you're with me." That's all you want. All you've ever wanted, you realize now. The love of your life by your side and ready to live with you.

“Always.” He squeezes your hand, finding it easy to promise that. The fact that only your party is here allows for the entire wedding party to clamber into the oversized teacups of the ride.

Between your wedding party and your friends and a few cousins who came out to DC early, the ride is full up with your group and it turns into a massive session of hooting, hollering, heckling, and squealing as the whole group of you spin manically in the tea cups. Bumper cars are the same way — turning into an unsurprisingly competitive ride of who can knock into each other the most times — and there is no chance that the games don't turn into an equally competitive activity this afternoon.

“What’s next?” Instead of everyone going off to do their own thing, the group collective is possibly even more fun.

“The shooting gallery!” The agent training never really goes away and Juan proves that by the smug smirk on his face “My range scores were always higher, Pike.”

“Yes they were, baby.” Syd nods with blind faith in her heart for her husband to show his nerdy stripes in front of everyone. Of course Juan’s break is scores. Scores of any kind.

Marcus scoffs, taking up he gauntlet that was thrown down easily enough. “Yeah, but that was then. When was the last time you went to the range, papa dearest?” He teases, doing the very mature figure gesture towards one of his best friends and making the entire groom’s party howl with laughter.

“I guess we’re going to the shooting range,” you laugh, one arm hooked around Marcus’s waist and grinning madly. Whatever he wants to do, you’re in.

“Agent Bailey????” Juan’s eyes cut around to the agent who is sporting a casual look as well today. Her suit exchanged for tights and a push up bra with a bouffant hairstyle. The male secret service members also dressed the part with jeans and t-shirts with the sleeves rolled. Juan smirks. “Care to make a wager and join?”

“Well…” She surveys both men and smirks playfully. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your wives.”

Marcus huffs and Juan snorts, neither one of them taking offense, but they pretend like they do. “Bring it on.” Marcus challenges.

Alex and Junie's agents get in on the bet as well, and the whole group troops over to the game stalls to get things to drink and razz the competitors as they line up. The employee who is running the game is immensely amused to have five federal agents in front of him and he introduces the game with all the pomp and circumstance it's due.

“One game to sight it in?” Marcus asks, looking around and shrugging when no one agrees. “Okay, we do this blind.”

“What are the stakes?” Selena interrupts, always ready and willing to tease Marcus and wanting to make this entertaining for everyone.

“A buck a shot?” Juan offers, willing and able to put money on what he thinks is a sure thing.

“Easy there, Badillo.” AnnaLeigh teases. As his sister-in-law it is her right. “Wouldn’t want to get crazy.”

He snorts and lifts a brow. “What do you suggest, sis?” He asks, cocking his head. “And are you getting in on the action?”

“I am purely a rabble-rousing spectator,” she assures him, batting her eyelashes. “But I’d say losers pitch in for a special something on the honeymoon, wouldn’t you?”

“Skinny dipping in Loch Ness?” Selena snorts out the suggestion and everyone giggles.

“I don’t think that costs money, Sel.” Leo points out with a smirk.

“But someone has to post bail when they get arrested.” She fires back with a grin of her own.

“That’s a fair point,” you concede, giggling through the insane idea that you would ever even go skinny dipping in the first place.

“Seriously though?” Junie pips up. “Maybe a night on the Isle of Mull?” She suggests. “You can actually stay at Glengorm Castle.”

“I’ll put money on that.” Agent Bailey has already prepared her own surprise for your honeymoon after coordinating with the innkeeper in Inverness, but she isn’t above extra spoiling. Having the First Daughter as a charge is a privilege and you’ve both become good friends to her.

“No, that’s too much.” Marcus insists, knowing that everyone must have spent a fortune on today. He would feel so guilty if something else was done. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course we don’t have to.” Leo and Clark step up together. “But since when do any of us say no to a little competition when the stakes are good?”

Sighing softly, Marcus shoots you a grin. “I guess I just have to win.” He tells you smugly with a wink.

“I have no doubt,” you assure him, making a big show of the kiss for good luck and getting a good hoot and holler out of your friends in the process.

“Now you have to kiss all of us.” Leo pouts, pointing at his cheek as Clark whips out his phone to snap a pic.

"Oh is that how this works?" It's just a bit of fun, so you don't care in the least, and Marcus just laughs, waving for everybody to line up so you can go right down the line giving cheek kisses while your sister films it on Leo's phone. "There. Now you all have luck and it's totally fair."

“Perfect.” Agent Bailey grins and motions all the participants up to the line where five rifles are lined up. “Let’s see who wins.”

Junie lines up to film this too, catching the cheers and laughter of the rest of the crowd as person after person takes their chance with the targets. Predictably, Agent Bailey is the best shot of most of the group, but Marcus and Juan are saved for last.

“Feels like old times, doesn’t it?” Marcus bumps Juan’s shoulder playfully and the other man scoffs.

“What? Me kicking your ass?” Juan jokes.

“Sure, sure.” Marcus rolls his eyes. “In your dreams, asshole.”

That part of the video when it goes up on Junie’s Instagram reels will be tagged #Besties4Life or something similarly teenage girl sounding, she thinks. But she makes sure to capture the end of the target shooting ruckus as Marcus shoots a perfect game and barely edges Juan out with one more perfect shot than his friend.

“So does this mean I pay for a night in the Isle of Mull?” Marcus crows, pumping his fist and grinning like an absolute idiot at winning a carnival game.

“If you’ll remember,” Clark snickers, amused to see his friend peacocking around like an overgrown Peter Pan. “It was losers chip in to pay.”

He snorts, swearing that they have changed the rules on him, but he doesn’t complain. Stepping towards you to claim a victory kiss.

“Bad guys beware.” You hum, grinning as his arms slide around you and you lean up to give him his kiss. “Agent Pike is as sharp as they come.”

“Absolutely.” Marcus snorts and turns towards the worker who runs the booth. “The prize?” He asks playfully, shocked when he brings out a stuffed hummingbird as a prize.

“Oh you’re kidding?” The utter delight on your face is sensational though, and you hug the oversized stuffed bird to your chest when Marcus passes it to you.

“We had to find stuffed animals that matched you two.” Sydney giggles. “Hummingbirds for Birdie and the softest, sweetest, brown eyed golden retriever stuffed animal for Marcus.”

“It is the perfect choice for him.” After affectionately telling him he was as cuddly as a puppy for your entire relationship, it’s only right. “I need to win you a stuffed puppy,” you declare with a grin. “So we can have a matching set.” A matching set that will doubtlessly end up in your baby’s crib at first opportunity.

He rolls his eyes playfully, but not one person in the group fails to see the beaming grin or the way that his chest puffs up ever so slightly. Having a woman who equally believes in making their partner feel loved and appreciate has done wonders for him. “We have to have a matching set.” He agrees. “Just like that damn hummingbird tattoo.” He teases with a wink.

“I’m not even sorry,” you hum, looking around at the game stalls for something you think you can win. “That damn tattoo brought us together. Just like I wanted it to.”

He laughs, having to agree with that theory completely. “Oh, it’s my favorite damn tattoo.” He promises, dropping a kiss on your nose.

“Ring toss!” All of a sudden the words burst out of you on a giggle and you’re tugging Marcus toward the game immediately. “I can totally win at ring toss! That was my jam when I was younger. Come on!”

Your enthusiasm is infectious and several from your bridal party join in the game. “Don’t let her win.” Marcus warns playfully.

“Or what?” Alex asks, always on board for both giving you some trouble and trouble in general.

“Now I won fair and square.” He pouts. “It makes it special.”

"*He meant don't cheat so she wins." David tells his fiancé, wrapping one arm around Alex freely. The power to do so has him glowing every time. "Don't worry, Marcus. She's a beast at ring toss. Ask her about her stuffed animal collection sometime."

“Oh?” He turns to you and arches a brow. “Are we already keeping things from each other?” He tsks playfully. “I thought we would never.”

“My savant-like ring toss abilities were not relevant until now.” But still, you’re smiling proudly as the group of you belly up to that stall. “I won every one of those stuffed animals fair and square.”

“Do you still have them? Are they packed up in a box at your parent’s house?” Marcus asks curiously.

"They're in my bedroom in the house in Philadelphia." Tilting your head at him, your grin turns a little lopsided. "Why? What are you thinking?"

“I was thinking that maybe a wall of stuffed animals would go great in our nursery.” Marcus admits shamelessly.

Absolute silence falls over the entire group, with different levels of giddiness and surprise crossing the faces of your family and friends as confusion turns to understanding one person at a time.

"What did you just say?" David and Selena ask, almost in unison, as Syd grins proudly for having just an hour's headstart in knowing your next big news.

“Sweetheart?” He turns towards you, knowing this is an announcement he wants you to be comfortable making.

Your hand fits neatly into his as you stand with your friends around you, and no one has their phone in hand so this isn't going to accidentally end up on the internet, so you nod. "Go ahead, love."

He nods and turns towards the group with the biggest grin on his face. Proud as punch about the news and he’s honestly a little teary just thinking of it. “Birdie and I have officially started trying for our first baby.”

The whole group takes a collective breath before the floodgates open and suddenly everyone is congratulating, exclaiming, and even exchanging money all at once. Selena hands Clark a folded bill and they share an amused expression. "I thought you would wait to start trying until the honeymoon," she admits, amused at Marcus's exasperated expression.

“You bet on when we would start trying for a baby?” Marcus snorts, shaking his head in faux disappointment.

"To be fair, we've made a lot of stupid bets over the course of our friendship," Clark defends, shrugging but feeling absolutely no remorse whatsoever.

Marcus laughs. “Glad I could win you some money, especially from this one.” He tells his friend, pointing at his cousin. “Are you two sure you aren’t soulmates?” He teases.

"What?" Selena sputters, stepping dramatically away from Clark's side and blowing a decidedly animated raspberry in the process. "No. That would be too much of a coincidence."

The vehemence in her denial makes Marcus’s brow tick up and he glances at his friend as he shuffles his feet nervously. “Yeah, her? Never.”

"Guys...?" You look between the two of them and back to Marcus, feeling a beaming grin form on your face the more Selena and Clark shuffle side by side.

“I think they are protesting a little too much.” Sydney snorts, leaning off your shoulder and grinning. “Want to tell the class anything? We’re among friends.”

"We..." Clark glances over at Selena, who bites her lip and slowly lets a smile overtake her face in almost the same way yours did. When she nods, Clark slides his arm around her back and pulls Selena Pike into his side fully. "We didn't want to steal your thunder," he admits sheepishly. "So we were going to wait until after the wedding to say anything."

“There’s no such thing as stealing our thunder.” Marcus manages with a broad smile as he lets the shock subside.

“It’s still your day,” Selena insists, though she is blushing with how tight Clark is holding her. “It’s just…nice to share it with my soulmate.”

“It is our day.” Marcus agrees. “But now we just have a little more to celebrate.” He reaches for both Clark and Selena to pull them in for a hug. “God, I’m so happy for you.”

“I told you he’d get sappy on us,” Selena huffs, but it’s all bark without bite. She’s been so damn happy these last few months with Clark — after both of them had apparently been pining for years but there had always been some kind of barrier in the way. Now it’s just them, and they’ve been brilliantly happy.

“Of course I am.” Marcus snorts. “You’re my favorite cousin.” He reveals shamelessly. He and Selena are the closest cousins, becoming even closer with her moving to D.C.

“Traitor!” A few of his other cousins tease, but it’s all in good fun. Marcus and Selena have always been close and no one whatsoever is surprised by this declaration.

Marcus laughs and slaps Clark on the back. “I hope you know what you’re in for. She’s amazing but a lot.” He warns playfully, ducking her swipe at him and sticking his tongue out in retaliation.

“I have never met a single Pike who was easy going with no strong opinions whatsoever,” you tease, hugging Clark in turn. “And that includes us soulmates of Pikes. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Well….” Marcus looks around at the group and laughs. “Anything else to celebrate today? Anything at all? Let’s hear it, we are an all-inclusive party.”

David and Alex exchange a glance, deciding not to add more to the pile, but Alex nudges Junie and the youngest of the three First Kids shrugs in exasperation. “Dylan and I found an apartment.” She mumbles, looking supremely embarrassed and wonderfully excited all at once.

“That’s great!” Marcus knows how big of a step this is for your younger sister and he is so proud, scooping her up for a hug. “Don’t pick up his socks.” He warns her. “It sets a bad precedent.”

“That might be the most brotherly advice you could ever give,” she laughs, hugging him back. “But I won’t. I promise.”

Marcus let’s go of your younger sister, only so you can pounce on her with your own hug. He moves over to talk to Dylan about where the apartment was.

It’s long moments of celebration before the group of you go back to playing games, and soon a golden retriever stuffed animal joins the hummingbird in becoming the very first plush toys to be earned and saved for the nursery in your house.

“Trying for a baby, huh?” Alex walks beside Marcus and shoots him a grin. “Are you hoping for a boy or a girl first.” Marcus immediately grins at the idea of a baby and shrugs. “All I care about is if they are healthy.” He admits. “But if I had to pick? I think I want a girl first.”

“It’s going to be twins.” David sidles up to Alex’s other side and wraps his arm around his soulmate’s waist. “I’m making the prediction now. The first pregnancy will be those twins the Pike clan is so famous for.”

There’s a slightly evil edge to Selena’s grin as she spears you with a stare. “And how do you feel like being a double Dutch oven?” She snorts. “Pike’s make big babies, by the way. Like huge.”

“I’ve heard.” Her attempt to tease and scare you only makes you laugh. “If big babies is what it takes to have little Marcuses, I’m all for it.”

She groans in disgust, rolling her eyes but everyone knows that it’s just for show. She will be the proudest cousin cooing at the baby or babies when they come. “I’ll remind you of that when you’re living in a pool like a hippo during the summer.”

You just grin, poking her shoulder in that playful manner you’ve adopted with each other. “Maybe by then, you’ll be in the pool with me?”

Clark’s eyes widen in what can only be described as unrealized hope, as if someone just made him think of something he didn’t know he wanted but now desperately does. Selena sees it and instead of rejecting it outright, she gives a small smile. “Maybe.” She shrugs. “Cousins should be close in age, right?”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens.” You shoot her a wink and aim a broad smile for Clark. He’s such a sweet guy, it’s easy to see the pair as a wonderful couple. “Now…how about we all grab some dinner instead of planning out the next eighteen years of our lives?”

"TO THE FOOD!" Sydney cries, absolutely in love with carnival food despite some thinking that a chef of her caliber would find it abhorrent. "I want a deep-fried cheesecake." She moans, rubbing her stomach gleefully. "Maybe even the deep-fried butter if they have it."

“Are you sure you’re not already pregnant again?” You ask, arching an eyebrow at her food choices.

“Not yet.” She shrugs and grins. “Or maybe I am and don’t know it yet.”

The noise Juan makes at that suggestion can only be described as plaintive, and Alex snorts in affectionate amusement. “All the straight men have baby fever.”

David chuckles and wraps his arm around his soulmate. “I think you might want a baby too.” He teases, leaning in and kissing Alex’s cheek.

“Might be a little difficult biologically,” he reminds his fiancé. “But not out of the question.”

“I don’t think it would be too hard.” David has been thinking about it more than he’s admitted. Baby fever catching and all. “If we had a surrogate to carry one from my sperm and one from yours, we could have a perfectly blended family.”

“You’ve been thinking about this.” It warms Alex through in a way he can’t quite explain, and his arms go around his soulmate entirely so he can squeeze him close. “I love it. A perfect little family all our own.”

He hums happily, thrilled that it will be a conversation they can have down the road. “First, we need to get the bar passed.” He teases. “Kids aren’t cheap.”

"I like that. Planning ahead." Alex grins, tilting his head back to kiss David's cheek as a pose for yet another of Junie's numerous social media posts from today.

“I’m glad there’s been no horrible backlash.” Marcus murmurs to you quietly, watching the couple as they find joy in being so free with their affections.

"There's been the usual stuff. But a lot less than we expected." Of course there has been some backlash, but the White House had been braced for death threats and protests and so far it's only been rhetoric. "It's just been people talking, and we can deal with talking."

“I know, I’m just happy they get to be themselves.” Marcus pulls you close and leans in for a kiss when the sound of a commotion breaks his thoughts.

"Sir, we are closed for a private party!" One of the fair employees is calling from around the corner. It's obvious from his tone that it isn't the first time he's said so, and Agent Bailey stiffens immediately. She takes your shoulder, urging your backward to be with your siblings as Alex and June's agents close in around you and Bailey has one hand over her sidearm like she's ready to quickdraw as she rushes around the corner.

Marcus pushes in front of you, unarmed but immediately willing to be a human shield for you and your siblings. Juan pushes Sydney behind him and Clark is right there. “Sir, come back!” the shout has Marcus stiffening at the sight of someone rushing towards him from the side and without a second thought, he lowers his shoulder and tackles the intruder.

"What the FUCK?!"

The indignant cry is familiar. Too familiar. Familiar enough that you go stiff and grab your brother's hand for emotional support. Oh god. It can't be...

“Get off of me!” Sam Chase struggles to get away from Marcus and his hoodie is pulled away to reveal the frantic, disheveled hair that Marcus remember always being so fastidiously combed. He looks deranged and furious, a bad combination considering he had just crashed a private event. Somehow tracking you down. “Birdie! Call of your dog!”

"What the hell are you doing here?" You're sure as hell not going to call anyone off of anywhere, and you're even less inclined to be polite or kind when your bad penny of an ex has just insulted your soulmate.

“I deserve to be here!” Sam struggles again and manages to get an arm free. Agent Bailey tenses, but eases up slightly when she sees that he doesn’t have a weapon. “I should be here! Me! This was supposed to be my time to shine! He stole it! He stole you!”

"You've got to be kidding me..." The disappointment and heaviness in the way you shake your head is so deeply felt by not just you, but several people in the crowd. "Sam, this is...this is downright sad now. It's been like a year and a half. Just let it go, please."

“You don’t understand.” He huffs, his voice taking on a petulant whine and he continues to struggle as Marcus practically straddles him to keep him on the ground. “You could never see the big picture. You have to come back to me.”

"I don't have to do a single damn thing." Thinking that it would be polite and mature to not have to restrain Sam at every damn turn, you squeeze Marcus's shoulder gently. The silent signal to let up hopefully isn't misplaced. "And we're not rehashing every single reason why our relationship didn't work. I love Marcus. I'm marrying Marcus. And you need to leave. I don't know how the hell you figured out where we are but please just go."

“You happy bullshit Instagram page dedicated to this wedding.” Marcus eases off of him and Sam pushes to his feet with indignant huff, throwing Marcus a scathing look but he doesn’t move. The guns still pointed at him are very real and he would rather not get shot, although maybe the sympathy would bring you back to his side. “It didn’t work?” He shakes his head. “We were happy. You were happy until he showed up.” He jerks his head unhappily towards Marcus. “We said we didn’t need to know our soulmates? Remember? We charted our own course.”

Unfortunate as it is, he does have a point about that. It's something you had said early on and you had actually thought to stick by it. "I was trying to chart a course to a happy and fulfilled relationship. Love. A family." You cross your arms, feeling utterly despondent by the idea of what he did to you all over again. "You charted a course to the White House. You used me. And even if Marcus wasn't my soulmate I have had a happier, more honest, and more supportive relationship with him than you and I ever did. Please for fuck's sake, just leave? This really has gone way too far."

Sam’s brow furrows and he drops to his knees, causing another moment of tension by the way every agent - including Marcus - braces, but it’s just the last ditch plea of a desperate man. “You don’t understand.” He repeats. “They will kill me. They will kill me.” He stress, clapping his hands together and shuffling forward towards you. Literally on his knees begging. “I- I made promises. Promises to some very nasty people when they don’t get what they want.” He shakes his head. “What did it hurt? I was having dinner at the White House every Friday. I made some promises and in return they did me some favors. Except you took away my access!”

"You did what?!" Somehow this reality is even worse, although it doesn't necessarily hurt more. The idea that Sam had been using you is something you're used to now. It doesn't make your chest ache with betrayal anymore. But that he was already betraying the office he aspired to this early? And people were apparently so corrupt that Sam is begging out of fear? A part of you wants to know who these people were just to be able to expose them. "That isn't my problem," you tell him instead, steadily staring down the man who had gotten you to bare yourself to him body and soul without having cared for you for even a second. "If you were doing backdoor deals and dirty handshakes, then you're the one who has to live with the consequences. I'm a human being, Sam. Not a fucking photo op."

“I know, I know, baby.” He pleads. “I do. I love you. You have to know that. I - please? Please, just give me a chance. I can be better, I will be better.”

"No. How many times do I have to say it? Dammit, Sam!" It may be the first time you've ever really yelled at him and you should have done it long ago. It's too much. It's far too damn much for you to still be dealing with this less than two weeks before your wedding. "No. End of story. I am marrying someone else and you're just going to have to deal with that fact!"

There isn’t an ounce of self respect left in his body at this point. The horrible realization that you can’t be convinced to change your mind makes him break down. Sobbing as he drops his hands and his head down. The piper has yet to be paid and now the cost will be too much.

"Alright, Congressman." Agent Bailey steps forward, firearm still drawn but hoping this can be settled peacefully. "I think it's time to go. Don't you?"

“Yeah.” He’s still crying but he’s no longer resisting when she reaches down to take his arm to help him to his feet.

"Alright." She repeats again, stepping up behind him to help him up if he needs it. "How about we get up and walk you back to your car." Any sympathy she might have had for him evaporated a long time ago, but this is...it really is just sad. After the party is over she'll speak to you about reporting the possible abuse of his position to the President. But not now. The party has been dampened enough already.

The agents all gather around Sam after Alex’s makes sure that Marcus will stay with the three of you. Wanting to impart the wisdom of not returning to the congressman out of earshot of the party. Marcus turns towards you, his brow pinches together. “Are you alright, sweetheart?” He knows how badly Sam’s betrayals have hurt, but you just learned the final and most damning piece of the convoluted puzzle. Why Sam was trying so hard.

"Physically? I'm fine. Thanks to you." The fact that Marcus had tackled Sam without hesitation meant that this whole thing probably went a lot smoother than it might have otherwise. Now, though, you lean into Marcus's chest and try to remember all those lessons on controlling your breathing from yoga class. "But...I'm going to have to say something. He just admitted in front of two dozens people to taking bribes while in office."

“Yeah.” He murmurs quietly, rubbing your back. “It’s put me in a hell of a spot. The FBI will be the ones investigating.”

"It won't be your department," you remind him quietly. It's...utterly shaking to have the party interrupted like this and even though someone might think you would expect outbursts from Sam by now, there's really no way to prepare yourself for that in reality. "At least there's that."

“Thank god.” He huffs and pulls away to cup your cheeks gently. “I’m sorry that he had to bust in on our day, but I’m not sorry that I love you and I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you.”

"I love you so much." If that wasn't abundantly clear by now, the gratitude and trust in your eyes might be enough all on its own. Marcus has been everything that Sam was not, in all the little and unconscious ways. His support is unwavering. His love an utter constant. There is never judgement or expectation with Marcus. The universe gave you an unimaginable gift when it made him your soulmate. "More than I could ever say or show, I think."

“No. You show me.” He promises with a small smile. “There’s never a moment I don’t know it, feel it and see it.”

"Show, don't tell." You laugh softly, shaking your head against his chest. "Isn't that what they tell writers? I swear I had a professor that said that. Guess I internalized it."

He kisses your hair. “Nothing wrong with that.” He promises. “Now, don’t want a pretzel first, or one of those Korean corn dogs?”

Steadfast and true, Marcus holds you tight to keep you safe physically as well as make sure your racing mind knows that he will never let anything happen to you. He's the closest thing to an angel you may ever know of in real life and once again you remember to breathe and just let yourself be utterly grateful for his presence. "Korean corn dog," you tell him, summoning a smile as you look up at him. "Definitely."

It's late that night when you make it home again. After leaving the carnival the whole group of you went by a favorite bar for a round together, but you and Marcus found yourself entirely exhausted after just one round so Marcus had plopping you on the back of his bike and brought you home. Your stuffed animal prizes are now deposited in the spare bedroom which will become the nursery, and Marcus is toeing off his boots in the bedroom.

“Babe, do you want a bath?” He smiles when you walk into the bedroom, just like he does every time you walk into a room. He can help it. “Or do you just want to go to bed?” Despite the interruption, you had tried not to let it get you down, but he can see that your mind has been spinning since Sam had appeared and he just wants to help you wind down.

"Do you want to take a bath together?" The giant tub that you had picked out together for the master bathroom in your house is intentionally big enough for two people and you turn your eyes up to him hopefully. "Relax a little?"

It will get you into it and that was his goal. “Absolutely.” He agrees. “I’ll go get it started. You want bubbles or a bomb?”

"Bubbles." Right now all the bombs you have, have glitter in them and that is definitely not the vibe you're going for tonight. Maybe yesterday if you had known about the carnival, but not now. "Thank you, baby. I'll be in, in just a minute."

“Of course.” The idea of putting a bar cart in the bedroom is still one that he thinks will work. Especially for nights like this. The little coffee nook is your favorite thing in the mornings and the bar could be the best thing after a long day.

Undressing is easy enough. Sneakers off. Socks, dress, and underthings all go in the hamper. Jewelry in the tray beside your jewelry box to be sorted through later. Your make up wipes are in the bathroom, so you meander in naked and open the cabinet to wash your face before getting in the bath. "It was a beautiful day. Other than the thing."

“Is that what we are calling him now?” Marcus snorts, admiring your ass as you lean over the counter to carefully remove the winged eyeliner.

"If I had my way," you sigh, swiping the treated makeup remover wipe over your eyelid carefully. "I would never think or speak about him ever again."

“I know. He’s been a real pain in the ass.” Marcus admits.

"Can we..." Glancing up in the mirror, you meet Marcus's eyes easily. "Can we not talk about him tonight? I just want to try to relax with the man I love. Is that...is that okay?" You'll work through it with him, and with your therapist, and you'll speak to your mother about it. But tonight you just need to pretend that Sam Chase doesn't exist and that he has no place at all in your relationship or future.

“Done.” Marcus walks over at holds onto your waist. He kisses your shoulder. “All I want to do is relax and talk about my favorite bachelor party in the entire world.”

"Did you have fun?" Pretending like the day held no strife at all seems like a very good strategy tonight, and when you're done wiping off your makeup you turn around in his arms. "I think our friends had a pretty spectacular idea, if I'm honest."

“Only disappointed that they didn’t have ‘You’re the One That I Want’ queued up to play when we were leaving.” He jokes. “But it was amazing.”

“I would have insisted on listening to it in the car.” You grin and kiss his chin. “Except we were on the bike.”

“And I don’t have a radio on my bike.” He points out and pulls away so he can get undressed. “Go get in the bath, baby.”

Happy to obey that particular command, you cross the white-tiled floor and inhale the fresh scent of jasmine and sandalwood from your bubble bath before climbing in. The depth and the sheer size of the tub mean that the two of you will never have trouble lounging in it together, which might actually be the smartest house-building decision you ever made.

“I have to admit, I love that they threw us a joint party.” Marcus admits easily, pulling his shirt over his head. Juan had wanted a gym buddy, so they’ve been going three times a week and his build has definitely improved in his opinion.

"They knew we'd hate being apart." And right now you don't want to even be a few feet apart. You're going to have to remember to send Juanito a thank you card for suggesting the guys go to the gym together. "It was perfect."

“Yes it was.” He smirks as he unbuttons his form fitting jeans, not oblivious to the way you are eyeing him like your favorite candy. “But not as perfect as you.”

"No need to butter me up," you tease, leaning on the edge of the tub like you're at the edge of the stage at your own personal strip show. "I've got the real perfection right in front of me."

He knows from personal experience that this back and forth compliment thing can go on for hours. Both of you loving the praise and giving praise. Instead of coming back with another thing he loves about you, he winks and pushes down his jeans and boxer briefs to kick off.

"In the bath." Gliding backward in the water gives him room to climb in with you and you tuck yourself against one side to give him plenty of room to get comfortable. "Please and thank you."

He snorts at your manners. “You never have to ask me twice to get into a bath with you, sweetheart.” He jokes. “If I refuse, know it’s my doppelgänger and he’s got me locked in a cage somewhere as he steals my life.”

"Noted." The smirk on your face matches his as he gets in, and you cuddle together on one end of the bathtub. Arms around each other, legs intertwined, and the world outside unable to touch you in the safety of each other.

“This bathtub was the best thing we did in this house.” He groans, loving the tankless hot water that will make soaking a pleasure. “The best.”

"This house was worth the work," you hum in agreement. "Thank you for making it a home with me, love."

“Thank you.” He kisses your shoulder and sighs as the both of you slip a little lower in the water. “You have given me everything that I’ve always wanted so easily. I don’t know how I deserve you.”

“Right back atcha, gorgeous.” You might point out that he literally tackled an intruder to protect you today, but you’re decidedly not speaking of that incident or that person right now. “I guess we’ll just go on being in awe of each other, won’t we?”

“Undoubtably.” His hands always like to roam when you are in a bath together. Reminded of those phone conversations when he was first out of town after getting to know each other. Now, he can touch you like he had imagined back then. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” This close and this tantalizing, you lean into his touch and sigh softly at each little press of his hands. “So much.”

“You looked so pretty in your dress.” He coos softly in your ear. You might not have the physical or mental energy for sex, and he will respect that if that’s the case, but his hands cup your breasts gently. “Wholesome and dirty all at the same time.”

“Mmm, I think you just have a thing for naughty girls who look nice in the surface.” You slide deftly into his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs, without any fear of overflowing the tub. Sinking it down close the floor and building a little platform around it means never having to worry about splashing your bathroom to bits if you want to fuck in the tub.

He chuckles in your ear and his cock twitches against your ass. “Figured that out, huh?” His hand slides up to caress the collar you still proudly wear and he hums in pleasure. “Good girls get pleasured.” He coos. “Bad girls get spanked and then pleasured.”

“I’m not going to lie, babe,” you hum, suppressing a giggle. “Sounds like either way, I win.”

“It does, doesn’t it.” He laughs and knows that it’s all just how it works out. He doesn’t deny you often. “So I guess the question is, do you want me to make love to you? Or fuck you?”

From your position in his lap it's easy to look down on all of him and appreciate the broad expanse of his body. Golden tan skin, smooth chest, strong arms, all of it. "Make love to me?" After the day you had today — and the interruption in the middle of it — you're craving that closeness with him.

Soft it is. Marcus can do soft. He smiles gently and nods, leaning forward to press his lips to yours. It’s slow and sensual, like the pace will be as he traces the familiar path of your favorite spots for him to touch.

These are the kinds of kisses that you get lost in, immediately glad to melt against him as his hands draw you flush to his body and your fingers start to comb through his hair.

One hand cups your breasts, the other slides down to the neatly groomed patch of hair that covers your cunt. Loving how you tilt your hips slightly, thighs spreading more in anticipation. Leaning into his touch and moaning at the first pass of his fingers.

"Baby..." Your hips rock in his lap, canting forward to urge him on just as your tongue dips into the sensitive skin below his ear as you press open mouthed kisses down the length of his neck. "Fuck I love you."

“Love you too.” Marcus groans quietly when your teeth scrape over his pulse, shuddering slightly as he strokes your folds and slides back to press two fingers inside you.

Fullness. Fullness is always the feeling that comes with any part of Marcus. From the way your heart swells with love to the way his finger and cock spread you open to push every extraneous thought clear out of your head. The only thing you have room for is him.

His own kisses run across your shoulders, taking special care to lave your clavicle with his tongue just like he knows you love while his fingers curl inside you. He wants to take his time, be thorough tonight and it starts with building you up until you cannot take anymore before he even slips inside you.

One...two...three fingers stretch you to the limit, making you drop your head back as you ride his hand and clasp his shoulders to hold yourself steady. The bathroom fills with moans and breathy cries as he builds you up, punctuated by his own deep groans of approval each time you rock your hips or gasp his name.

It’s not as slow and sweet as it would have been if he had you stretched out in your bed, but it’s satisfying to watch as you try to restrain yourself. Knowing that you are wanting and needing more, but trusting him to give it to you at his own pace. The jerk of your hips stilled with a shuddered moan. “So beautiful.” He promises, his mouth buried against your throat and working his way down to your tits.

He takes the most pleasure in pulling that first orgasm from you at an unhurried pace, priming you to take him and to let him draw out both your pleasure for as long as he pleases. Only the temperature of the bath water will dictate how long you spend riding him tonight, and even that is up for debate. You can always top off a cold bath with piping hot water.

He keeps the rhythm of his finger deliberate. Playing your pussy like his favorite instrument and loving the soft moans and the way the slickness of your arousal feels coating his fingers under the water. His mouth wraps around a nipple with a groan of your name and he sucks languidly.

One of your arms wraps around his shoulders, anchoring you to him as his fingers fill you over and over again, and with your other hand you reach under the surface of the water to wrap your hand around his cock and stroke it just as languidly as he is at your breasts. Nothing is rushed tonight, though your need for him is growing every second.

Marcus moans against your flesh, twitching in your hand as he pumps his fingers into your heat steadily. Aware that you are panting in his ear because you are so close. “So good.” He mumbles.

This close to your peak is when the chanting starts, moaning his name over and over in time with each thrust of his fingers into your entire body bears down on those thick digits and your fingernails bite into his back with one hand and the other stills on his cock. You fly apart for him at the perfect curl of his fingers inside you, but it’s just the beginning of the night. Just the first of many orgasms. The start of a night that will be as drawn out as you could possibly desire.

Watching you cum, feeling it, is probably one of his best gifts. The awe that always washes through him when you combust in pleasure is so satisfying. Knowing that he had made you peak this way. “I love you.” He moans, slowly working you through it.

When you sink down against him fully worth every muscle in your body relaxed and the aftershocks still coursing through you, absolutely no feeling could be better except what’s coming next. “I love you, baby.”

He hums, almost chuckles as your body leans against his heavily. His fingers are still curled up inside you, but he swears you could probably drift off to sleep right now.

“You’re so good at that,” you hum, giggling at how drunk your voice sounds on pleasure alone.

“Yeah?” his own voice is slightly smug and he kisses your chin. “I think you just like to cum.”

“I mean you’re not wrong,” you giggle a little but pull back to look him in the eye. “But I’d rather cum on your cock than anywhere else.”

“Is that a hint?” He smirks at you. “You’re ready for more? Insatiable.”

“Would you rather just go to bed?” The teasing edge in your voice spreads with a grin. “Did you not want to breed me tonight?”

Marcus groans at the magic word, his cock twitching against your folds. "Fuck." He hisses, blowing how a breath through his teeth. "You know how to twist my arm, don't you?" He huffs, leaning in and capturing your lips in a kiss as he pulls you close again. "I want to breed you, fill you with my baby tonight."

Twist his arm? You grin into the kiss, knowing it's just as pleasurable of a kink for you as it is for him. Especially now that it's no longer make believe. Since deciding to try for a baby, even your lovemaking has gotten decidedly more animalistic with that need. "Do it, Daddy," you hum, gasping sharply when he pulls his fingers out of you and replaces them with his cock in one practiced stroke.

Hissing in pleasure, his hands turn harsh. Fingers digging into your flesh as pulling you down onto his cock harder than the previous languid pace of his fingers. Reacting to your need for him, your use of the word Daddy in both the submissive nature and the fact that you wanted him to breed you, had water sloshing over the side of the deep tub from the force of his thrust.

You’re both needy when you’re like this. Grasping for handfuls of each other, teeth biting and tongues laving everywhere. It’s like a flurry of competition to decide who wins the award of fiercest love, as if that depth could be quantified in the sweet aches you leave behind on each other’s bodies.

"So good, so good to me." Marcus praises breathlessly. "Gonna be such...a good wife." He pants. "Good momma. Everything."

"All for you." It's so easy to promise him the world when you mean it so dearly, and even with your head thrown back and your chest arched against his as you rock in his lap and ride him there in the bath, you pour out praise of your own to let him bask in just as much love as he's giving. "Perfect soulmate, feels so fucking good inside me — gonna fuck a baby so deep inside me—"

Marcus groans, loudly at your surety. Knowing that he will fill you up and pray that it takes. That you are so willing to change your body for him, for your future kids. His hand slides down to cover your stomach, where the baby will rest, before he slides his fingers down to your clit again. "Fuck yes. Take it, want you to carry my baby." He pants out raggedly.

“Then cum for me, Daddy.” Sweet and filthy all at once, you speed up your pace bouncing on his cock and feel your pussy bear down on him as he starts to rub your clit. “Cum for me and fill me up.”

His head rocks back, unable to do more than sit still and rub your clit while you bounce on his cock like you are riding a rodeo. "Fuck, not—" He chokes when your walls clench around him and barely resist giving into his body and filling you up. "Before— you do." He manages, his voice strangled and he just knows tonight is the night that he's going to get you pregnant.

"So close." He's long since learned which buttons to push to make you cum quickly, and in this case the button is very literal. "So close baby, so close to our baby."

"Want you- to prop your hips up." He groans, leaning in and wrapping his lips around your nipple for some extra pleasure. Knowing that you say that sucking on your tits shoots straight down to your pussy.

"Fuck!" It's sharp and sweet and earth shattering, the way your second orgasm hits you as soon as he sucks on your nipple, scraping his teeth down your areola with just the right amount of pressure. Your body locks up gorgeously, hands clinging to his shoulders just as firmly as the velvet walls of your pussy hold his cock deep inside you.

He had been holding back for you. Already on the cusp of his own orgasm, as soon as you start pulsing around him, he lets go. He has to rock his hips up, "fuck, take it, oh fuck baby, so good, so good for me." He pants against your breast.

There are some times when the two of you will break out into an endorphin-driven fit of giggles after sex. Or sometimes lie panting together for long moments afterward just holding each other. Sometimes the overwhelming emotions that come with lovemaking have you both smothering tears afterward. Tonight you find yourselves staring into each other's eyes as the shockwaves course through you, filled the the unshakable determination that something wonderful has just happened.

"I love you." A whisper in the flickering candlelight. A promise. And a wholehearted vow for the future.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog@haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

[gayvampyr]

maybe it’s the autism but has anyone else felt like the whole “moment of silence” thing is kinda stupid and performative

[fingertipsmp3]

I should neverrr have accepted this shift. Literally every problem I have would be irrelevant if I didn’t have to go to work today

[5sospenguinqueen]

Bedtime Stories | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. End of a relationship. Daniel bashing.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in the 2022 season.

Main Masterlist

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User 2 no, it's not an announcement. her best friend is currently pregnant and she was gushing about looking forward to aunty duties

User 3 omg her and daniel would make the cutest babies though

→ User 4 i bet she can't wait until they have their own mini-me

User 5 imagine our rom-com queen going from writing the cutest but filthiest fiction imaginable to writing about why you should eat your carrots

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22•05•22

User 6 i can't believe this man was talking about being in the height of his career when he's been nothing but a flop since leaving red bull

User 7 the way he's been stringing this poor woman along for 6 years, knowing how badly she wants children, to then decide in a random interview that he's never going to have kids because they would be a 'distraction'

User 8 fans spotted y/n running from the pits once she saw that daniel was safely done with racing

User 9 i fear we may be witnessing the downfall of something we once held sacred

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16•06•22

fallontonight just posted

liked by YourUserName, kellypiquet and others

fallontonight did you know @ YourUser Name was once chased by a kangaroo? find out how in tonight's episode of The Tonight Show 📚🦘

4,477 comments

YourUserName thanks for having me! ✨

User 11 excuse me, ma’am, reassess what

User 12 daniel has been absent from her last 3 posts

→ User 1 not even in the likes or comments

→ User 2 and he didn't even congratulate her on the recent book launch

→ User 3 ya’ll are reaching. he's busy racing. she's busy doing book promo. they still follow each other

User 4 anyone notice she didn't look as happy as she usually does

→ User 5 yes! and i swear she got teary when talking about her life plans 🥺

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren and others

YourUserName my happy place 🌊🐚🦀 Aug '22

4,990 comments

User 6 does this mean a new book is coming soon

→ User 7 girl, we’ve just had one. let the woman rest

→ YourUserName sorry, my lovelies but i don’t think i'm in the right headspace to being right a romance novel at this time

→ User 6 confirmation??!?!

→ User 7 we’re children of divorce

→ User 8 honestly fuck those two because i couldn’t have cared less about vroom vroom boys until mother started dating one and now i'm crying in class ‘cause they’re over

landonorris get that bread, queen 🍞

→ YourUserName who let you out of daycare

→ User 9 not y/n and lando interacting like she didn’t break his teammates heart

→ User 10 more like his teammate broke y/n’s heart. let's not make daniel out to be the victim here

kellypiquet p said get writing those children’s books so she can brag about aunty y/n to her friends

→ YourUserName my sweet girl. i saw the cutest dress the other day for her so I’ll pop round soon x

→ User 11 i love their friendship

→ User 12 get this woman a child. She’s too sweet to be stuck in cool aunt mode forever

User 13 anyone notice she didn't do her annual birthday post for daniel?

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04•09•22

User 14 no because the interviewer was so real for that. checo has a few children and he’s currently 2nd best. max is nowhere to be seen on the grid he's that far ahead and he makes sure p is his priority when she’s there so???

→ User 15 and the way he stormed out. i bet PR are sooo happy with him

User 16 nah because mclaren recently announced that they’re not extending his contract so he currently doesn't have his seat and doesn't have his y/n, all because he thought he was better than that

YourUserName posted a new story

danielricciardo posted a new story

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danielricciardo just posted

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and others

danielricciardo yesterday was something. p17 wasn't the result we were expecting, and the media were a challenge but it's always a delight to be in Suzuka. Moving on to the Americas

5,509 comments

User 1 maybe if y/n was there, you wouldn't have done so badly

User 2 maybe if he had a baby waiting in the paddock he would’ve had more incentive to do better

mclaren we’ll get them next time 💪

User 3 letting mclaren and lando down

→ User 4 the real reason he and y/n broke up is because he has no wins. she should move onto lando or something

→ User 5 he’s way too young for her

→ User 4 they'd make a good looking couple tho

(comments have been disabled for this post)

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19•10•22

YourUserName just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, bloomsburypublishing and others

YourUserName thirty, flirty and thriving. please enjoy a small snippet of my 30th birthday, organised by my favourite girl. these are the nice moments before she plies me full of cocktails and i become the sloppiest person in monaco tagged: kellypiquet

kellypiquet any chance to celebrate you 🤍🤍

→ kellypiquet and an even better chance to drink the entire bar and force max to carry us home

→ maxverstappen1 i'm just glad i was able to pull you both out of the sea before you drowned

landonorris can't believe you tried (and failed) to stop us from gatecrashing

→ YourUserName it was an exclusive event, we don't let randos in

→ landonorris i know you're joking but it still hurts my feelings

maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sloppy. you don't look a day over 40

→ YourUserName i'm gonna let that slide but only because i love the bag that kelly told you to buy

User 7 happy birthday to the best author

User 8 happy birthday queen

carlossainz55 happy birthday, y/n 💐

liked by YourUserName

danielricciardo happy birthday x

User 5 kelly and y/n look like the funnest people to hang out with

→ User 6 literally need to know how to become part of their duo

lewishamilton happy birthday, y/n. have a lovely night 💕

liked by YourUserName

mclaren happy birthday to papaya's favourite author (we're still waiting for a racing rom-com that is quite clearly about your favourite f1 team and their super sexy admin) 🥳🥳

liked by YourUserName

This is going to be part of a Baby Fever Angst series with the other drivers. So, multiple drivers are going to have an smau like this.

Max’s Version | Lando’s Version | Lance’s Version

Charles’ Version | Oscar’s Version

I do have Part 2s planned if people want them but also happy to leave it like this :)

[chaoticace2005]

Why Vox needs to GET THE FUCK OVER THE RADIO DEMON:

(By Velvette, the only competent of the Vees)

(Her list for Valentino here)

1. He’s just not into you

2. We have better things to do than allocate company time to this.

3. He makes you look stupid

4a. He makes US look stupid (and Valentino already does that enough)

4b. Seriously how are we supposed to stop your boy toy from chasing whore around town when you can’t do the same with your ex? We need to set a (gag) good example for him.

5. What do you even see in him? Tacky coat. And that voice is so old-school.

6. You have two people who (reluctantly) want to work with you. Why spend energy on a guy who doesn’t?

7. This was seven years ago babe. Give it up.

8. I’m tired of finding your Alastor Body Pillow around the penthouse

9. Speaking of the body pillow, did you really have to spend 5k on it?

10. Company money should be used for COMPANY things. The fact we even have an “Alastor” budget is stupid. HE DOESNT EVEN GO HERE. ( @onesidedradiostatic )

11. He fucked off once, he probably will again.

12. Do you really want to fuck with someone who has the princess and king of Hell on his side?

13. It makes Valentino insecure about his sexual prowess, which is not good for anyone.

14. I have to LISTEN to him complain about it.

15. No matter how hard you try, nobody will ever beat “Susan” for #1 rival in that man’s heart. (Which is valid cause Susan SUCKS.)

16. Also you’re wasting company time by having Val put together shitty-Alastor look alike porns? Angel Dust does NOT look like Radio Demon ffs, I though Val was the blind one not you.

17. Your screens keep crapping out whenever you think about him, and we’re running out of ones in storage.

18a. I don’t want to keep having to go to overlord meetings for you because you’re having a breakdown over of he’ll be there or not.

18b. Speaking of breakdowns, STOP MAKING THE WHOLE CITY LOSE POWER.

19. You’ve taken over the entire office space with your Alastor-shrine. It’s not really an inconvenience, just creepy.

20a. Not to kinkshame but I walked in on you and Val fucking with Alastor-wigs on, REALLY?!

20b. Also I think you’re making Val insecure about his lack of hair.

21. STOP asking me to design Alastor-cosplay clothes for you. I don’t want anything to do with this.

22. I already have to deal with one pissbaby

23. Seriously, he isn’t into you. Maybe it’s cause you’re a mess. Maybe it’s cause he’s AROACE. Who knows.

24. You keep interrupting channels to brainwash people into hating the Radio Demon, when we should be brainwashing them into other things.

25. We can all hear you talking to yourself in the shower when trying to come up with shitty comebacks.

26. You display your dreams when you sleep, and while it was funny at first at this point it’s so boring. Val and I want to watch something actually interesting for once rather than the same shit.

27. You keep glitching out in bisexual whenever he comes up and it’s annoying waiting for you to put your shit back together again.

28. I’m sick of movie nights where we just watch your self-made compilations of “Alastor’s Epic Fails” or just watch security footage of him at the hotel.

29. Why do you even try and film him? Your shitty cameras can pick hardly anything up.

30. Honestly this whole thing is just pathetic.

31. Like it used to be cute but now?

[wilwheaton]

fuck you pat robertson

Pat Robertson walks past thousands of souls, smugly and full of pride, and cuts to the front of the line at the velvet rope in outside the entrance to his version of Heaven.

The bouncer looks up from their clipboard, observing Robertson with thousands of eyes in a swirling cascade of light.

"Pat Robertson," they say. "We've been expecting you."

Pat Robertson silently congratulates himself. He swells with joy. All those people who died from AIDS, natural disasters, even 9/11 ... they all deserved it. They were sinners!

The bouncer speaks into their headset. "He's here." They listen. "Yep. At the front of the line."

The bouncer turns most of its gaze back to Pat Robertson. "Just wait here for one moment, please."

Pat Robertson steps to one side and waits.

After one thousand years, he begins to wonder if there was a miscommunication.

"Excuse me," he says to the bouncer, "I am Pat --"

"Robertson. Yes. We know. We're just getting everything in order for you. It will just be one more moment."

Tens of thousands of victims of gun violence walk past him and enter Heaven. The population of an entire village, lost in a typhoon that was intensified by climate change, is welcomed. And still he waits.

They file past him, all the people he looked down on. All the people he hurt, directly and indirectly, don't even notice him as they pass. It's like he isn't even there.

Another thousand years pass. Pat Robertson realizes he hasn't had a thing to eat since he died and he is so very hungry.

"Hey!" He shouts at the bouncer. "What's the problem? Don't you know who I am?"

The bouncer rolls half a million eyes at once. "We know exactly who you are."

"Well, alright, then!" Pat Robertson spits out, exasperated, "if you aren't going to help me, get someone here who will!"

The bouncer speaks into its headset again. "We're ready."

A gibbering mass of what is mostly human flesh -- or was, once -- slithers / rolls / flops into Pat Robertson's view. It is covered with mouths that bleed and weep and click their teeth together. Enormous open sores swirl and burst and close and reopen and drip pus and viscera across blistering skin. The faint memory of a smell surrounds it, something like very old cigar smoke and very expensive liquor.

Pat Robertson tries to scream. Arm-like stalks extend from the quivering shape. One resembles a hand at the end of an arm, dripping viscera.

In a flash, it grabs Pat Robertson's hand and shakes it. Something hot and acidic splashes up on his arm, blinds him in one eye. He feels weak. Afraid. Alone. Confused.

Hundreds of mouths try to speak. Dozens of them vomit acrid bile that splashes across his chest. Dozens more silently spit out the lies they've been cursed to repeat for eternity to an audience who will never hear them again.

One mouth speaks clearly. So clearly, it's inside Pat Robertson's head and everywhere else all at once. "I'm Rush Limbaugh," it says. "I'm your new roommate. Come with me."

And that's when Pat Robertson knows. That's when it all hits him, all at once. He's getting everything he deserves.

The line to get into Heaven does not see or hear or notice him, or the Limbeast. They can't hurt anyone, anymore.

The cancerous mass of hate wraps its arm around his shoulder and just like that Pat Robertson finds himself in a vast parody of a cathedral. It's built of bones and flesh and lies. The walls writhe, and he sees that they are not bricks and lathe but bodies wrapped in confederate flags and wearing red hats.

The pews are filled to capacity with the souls of people who followed him in life, hated who he told them to hate. Only their hate is now focused on him, hot and unforgiving. Relentless.

Pat Robertson looks for his companion, but it has vanished. It has left him alone to suffer.

A sermon rises in his chest and pushes against his throat. Pat Robertson is compelled to speak, and as he does each word tears through him like broken glass. He spews his hate and his lies, just as he did in life. Only in this place, he doesn't feel the glee and the satisfaction he always did. No, he feels the pain and the suffering and the agony of every human being who he deliberately hurt. He. Feels. All. Of. It. He tries to stop speaking. Of course, he can not. He can not ever stop.

And Pat Robertson's eternity begins.

[lqfiles]

SCORE THAT GOAL! — smau

after your college had announced that all the students were required to join a club and attend it twice a week, you were planning on either a) dropping out, or b) join the art club and pretend to be sick most of the times. that was before you discovered that park jisung is a long time member of the football team. change in plans: you LOVE football.

or in which you mindlessly join the football club in hopes of catching your crush’s attention (and to maybe secretly check him out too) who cares if you can’t even kick a ball up in the air?

football-player!jisung x fem!reader

genre ; rlly just humour, football / sports au, fluff, some angst, pining and eventually mutual pining, probably slow-burn, college au, strangers to lovers.

extras ; teasing and profanity | sexual and death jokes | reader is down bad | jisung kinda dislikes reader and closed off at the start | my knowledge on football isn’t the BEST but i know above basics and enough for this fic | idrc if some of these subject clubs don’t exist this is for entertainment 😸

notes ; 😭 mostly posting this for myself cos i’ve wanted to try a smau for a while now but i hope anyone else enjoys too.

PLAYLIST ; Rising , TripleS — Hype Boy , newjeans — Awkward , SZA — Gasoline , ROSY (FT. LILMONEY) — Attracted To You , Pinkpantheress — Cognac Queen , Megan Thee Stallion — Goodie Bag , Still Woozy — Eyedress , Something About You .

STATUS ; completed! (24.02.24)

profiles (1) | profiles (2)

1 ) donghyuck’s fault

2 ) 20% more insane

3 ) it’s the voices again

4 ) yes captain!

5 ) invest in a priv account

6 ) peach lipton ice tea

7 ) no suicide EVER

8 ) always believe women

9 ) grape & lemon drink

10 ) favourite teammate

11 ) wingman

12 ) jeno’s food provider

13 ) no lunch

14 ) awkward tension

15 ) a simple conversation

16 ) an even more normal conversation

17 ) under my umbrella

18 ) a canon event (ft. Renjun's Black Friday offer)

19 ) feeling submissive and fragile

20 ) woman hobbies & failed courseworks

21 ) man up and break it

22 ) make-up brush vs subway sandwich

23 ) OFFICIAL FRIENDSHIP!!!

24 ) a nice gesture

25 ) NOT my boyfriend

26 ) business exchange

27 ) what about mark?

28 ) winter wonders with you

29 ) JISUNG vs MARK

30 ) my princess (very lame)

31 ) riddle me this

32 ) do you like her? (probably)

33 ) wtf does QUORA know?

34 ) JISUNGxY/N: plan A

35 ) evil out the way, GOOD RIDDANCE

36 ) basketball incidents.

37 ) JISUNGxY/N: plan B (the jisung quiz)

38 ) E-DATING 🔛🔝🔥

39 ) wise words from renjun

40 ) that one sign

41 ) guess it’s a date

42 ) (unofficial) couple goals

43 ) the y/nle argument

44 ) professional over-thinker

45 ) executing major girlboss energy

46 ) the confession prep

47 ) knock some sense into them

48 ) war is over

49 ) knock some sense into JISUNG

50 ) an overdue confession

51 ) be your boyfriend?

52 ) scored that goal!

BONUS:

jisung the blonde

JISUNG vs MARK pt.2

jaemin’s hit tweets

the jeno quiz

one huge polyamory relationship

thank you for reading!

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.

Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying

WC: 8.2k

Chapter 14/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.

--

Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home. 

Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal. 

Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos. 

Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day. 

Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface. 

“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”

You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight. 

Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”

There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.

“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”

“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”

“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”

He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.

Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.

“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”

Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work. 

“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus. 

Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.

“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.

Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.

Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you. 

“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it. 

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.

He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”

He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two. 

You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.

“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck. 

“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.

As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning. 

“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.

You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.

Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.

You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 

The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day. 

“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates. 

Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.

It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.

It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.

“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”

“Eds?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”

You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”

Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”

“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”

“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite. 

You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”

“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”

“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”

“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling. 

“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place. 

To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water. 

Could Corroded Coffin play again?

It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on. 

We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too. 

He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light. 

Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—

“‘Lo?”

Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”

“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”

Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.” 

Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”

There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.” 

Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”

“Mhm.”

“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”

Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”

“Of course.”

“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.

“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”

Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”

“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”

“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers. 

“Did your friends go?”

“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”

Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”

“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.” 

“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.

“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”

Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break. 

Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get. 

He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference. 

“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”

“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief. 

“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”

Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”

Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.

“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”

The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.

“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”

The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.

You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.

Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.

“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe. 

He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch. 

“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning. 

A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.

“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.” 

“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.

Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”

Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.

“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think. 

But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him. 

Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.

“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”

“Not you.”

You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.

“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”

Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.

“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs. 

“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.

“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key. 

Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again. 

“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”

He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings. 

“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”

Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”

Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right.  You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson. 

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”

Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.

“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.

“For what?”

“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”

You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.

“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”

Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.

As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.

“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.

Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”

“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”

“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!” 

Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie. 

Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’

No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again. 

“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort. 

“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head. 

Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.” 

Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida. 

“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys. 

Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand. 

With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?” 

He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there. 

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”

The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat. 

Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”

Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that. 

“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”

But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.

Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”

Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”

There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.

“Yeah. I can stay.”

Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.

You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”

“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one. 

“Being in a hospital?”

He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.

“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”

“But what if Jeff needs—”

“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning. 

Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful. 

You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…

You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then. 

The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.

“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion. 

As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”

Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–

“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”

Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”

“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.

Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.” 

There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment. 

“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns. 

Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner. 

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”

“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this. 

It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.

“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”

You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”

There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.

It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.

“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”

“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.

“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”

Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister. 

The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.

“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.” 

“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.

“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent. 

“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.” 

Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations. 

“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”

“I mean, I—”

“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”

And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.

“I love her.”

--

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[knightsickness]

Rank dance era characters by how likely they would be the employee of the month at hot topic in 2009

do not have hot topic in my country so i’m going off how competently i think they could work in a mall and my general understanding of hot topic as a tween-teen emo store. worst to best

don’t work there (anymore)

15 daemon - near pathological inability to keep a job which he views as a point of pride

14 aegon - absolutely dogshit employee only applied bc otto thought work might build character in him. fired on his first day for trying to smoke weed out of a vent and setting off the fire alarm. barely even got the chance to be rude to customers or covertly masturbate in the break room

13 alicent - wouldn’t like the store wouldn’t like customer service wouldn’t go for a hot topic job and would leave almost immediately if she had to work there

12 rhaenys and corlys - would be fine i just don’t think they would work there. better things to do

11 rhaenyra - she’s liking posts that say like ‘i don’t have a dream job i do not dream of labour’ with a trust fund she is NOT working at a mall. this high bc if she did work there she’d be completely fine and normal

bad

10 criston - arguably most employed guy in the dance WILL keep a job. do not think he would enjoy hot topic as a brand or the customers would be a better employee if he wasn’t getting into fights with emo teenagers about satanism. he would however fucking love abusing the limited power of a mall cop

9 larys - tied w criston for most employed guy in the dance i don’t know how transferable the skills are between torturer and customer service. guy who gives tweens in pokemon shirts 70s torture porn recommendations they shouldn’t be watching. leery

normal

8 otto - few opportunities for scheming social advancement in this line of work but is organised and a solid employee. gets bullied by the customers for being old

7 harwin laena and laenor - normal. don’t think they’d love the work or anything but i think they could all do customer service w teens they’re nice

6 tyland - guy who managed to be the mvp of a rapidly decaying team and survive the war entirely through middle management of financial minutiae and being sort of smilingly inoffensive i think he’s made for customer service. store manager material

good

5 viserys - everything bad that happened in viserys’ life can be tied back to his not being an oldhead horror fan in 2009 with a million dollar warhammer collection he wants to tell you about i unironically think he would crush it

4 jace baela and rhaena - not much to say. nice and normal teenagers would be a good employee at any store in the mall. jace doing his high valyrian homework on his break. higher than harwin laena laenor bc they could be paid less for the same work as teenagers

employee of the month

3 alys - has worked there since the store was founded fat older goth putting cigarettes out on her inappropriately younger boyfriend and stinking of incense. unfirable she knows where everything is

2 helaena - sweetiepie likes bugs has psychic visions does not act out. beloved cashier regular employee of the month

1 aemond - objectively a worse employee than his sister however the coolest guy any emo teen has ever seen in their life. occasionally shows customers under his eyepatch or explains how if anyone tried to rob the store how he’d kill them with the sword he claims he has hidden

[just-a-creep-babe]

A Demon’s Ache — Part 18

Eyeless Jack x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss — thank you so so much for your patience and kindness and support, I really hope you enjoy! ^^ 💝💖💗

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Masterlist: x

He should leave

He should get the fuck out of your room so that he can actually think straight and figure out what to do

But he just can’t

You look so peaceful in his embrace, so sweet and innocent

He can’t bring himself to just abandon you

His thoughts are racing a mile a minute as he tries to figure things out

He’s not the most knowledgeable about demon marks and what they mean, but he knows enough to understand that they’re serious

His first order of business, he realizes, should be research

If there’s any way to undo them, or at least minimize the effects, he should give it a shot

And the sooner he does it, the higher chance he has to fix this

Which brings him all the way back to square one; he should leave

He looks down at you

Your eyes are closed, brows relaxed, lips parted just the slightest bit as you breathe in slow, long breaths

He can practically feel the blood running through your veins, hear the way it pumps to your organs by the steady rhythm of your heart

Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump

He swallows thickly, his mouth watering at the temptation of your flesh

He’s fucking salivating

He has to leave—now

But right as he shifts beneath you, you murmur something in your sleep and he freezes in place

He woke you up

He woke you up and now you’re going to see the mark and you’re going to loathe him for doing this to you

He flinches, bracing himself for the worst possible outcome

But all you do is nuzzle deeper into him, still half-asleep, and relief like no other washes over him

He can’t leave, he realizes

He should be there when you discover the mark

Even if it scares him—even if it absolutely terrifies him—he shouldn’t avoid this

He’s the one who created this mess; he has to be the one who deals with it too

He buries his face into your hair and breathes in deeply

Your scent is as soothing as always

He’ll figure it out, everything’s going to be ok

As long as he has you, everything’s going to be alright

It takes a short while, but eventually, you slowly start stirring awake

You mumble his name, pressing your face into the crook of his neck to avoid the glare of the sunlight, and he hums in response

Don’t think about the mark, don’t panic, don’t make it obvious something’s wrong

Part of him wants to outright blurt it out, but another part of him, a more dominant part of him, wants to savour every second he can before admitting to it

And it’s wrong

And he knows it’s wrong to withhold this kind of information from you, but fuck, how can he resist the temptation of your ignorance for just a moment longer?

You stretch your stiff limbs out, eyelashes tickling his jawline as you blink away the sleep clouding your mind

You hum peacefully, as if waking up next to him is nothing short of blissful, and that knot of guilt tightens in his stomach

Reaching up from under the comforter, your fingertips trace over Jack’s chest, moving all the way up his collarbone to his neck, and finally, over his Adam’s apple

He has to resist the urge to swallow down his heartache out of fear you might somehow feel it

But even then, even despite everything, your touch is so gentle, so soft

He can’t remember the last time anyone treated him with so much warmth, so much kindness

His eyelids instinctively flutter close over the messy black tar dripping from his sockets

And as he does, it’s like he can almost trick himself into believing things are different

He can almost pretend you’re both human, and you’re waking up in your shared bedroom in the apartment you both picked out together

He can act like it’s a quiet Saturday morning, and it’s a sunny day outside, and the birds are chirping and neither of you have anything planned

You’re both free to relax, to spend as much time in bed as the both of you want, and any minute now, he’s going to get up to make you breakfast while you prepare the coffee

“Come shower with me”

He’s brought back to reality by the sound of your voice, still gravelly and laced with sleep

When he reopens his eyes, he finds you smiling, still evidently sleepy, and the sight makes his heart flutter in his chest

“Mmh,” he makes a noise of agreement in his throat, and your smile grows

How’re you so effortlessly gorgeous?

You sit up, lazily stretching your arms over your head, and the motion causes the sheets to fall from your form, exposing the entirety of your naked back to him

He’s at a loss for words

The way your skin stretches over your curves, the way the morning light dances over your body—you look ethereal

He wants to reach out, wants to touch every inch of your skin—he wants to worship you

But then you roll your neck out to ease the stiffness in your muscles, and in doing so, it reveals that deep blemish on your skin once more

It’s all it takes for his perfect moments to fall apart, crumbling like ashes in the breeze

Fuck

What the fuck kind of mess did he get the both of you into?

Completely oblivious to his dilemma, to the pained mix of emotions blooming in his chest, you turn to him with that gentle smile on your face

“You coming?”

He can’t keep his hands off you in the shower

It’s hot and steamy, and the space is just small enough to give him an excuse to press up so wonderfully close to you

Warm water glides off your body, outlining every dip and curve of your form, and he finds himself tracing over it, almost absent-minded, like he’s under a spell

You’ve bewitched him

You stand on the tip of your toes, and he almost thinks you’re about to kiss him, but all you do is reach behind him for the soap, and he has to hide his disappointment

“Let me help you,” you murmur

He nods, and then you’re lathering up his skin and touching him all over

You start at his chest, fingers dancing over both his pecs and in the valley of his hard muscles

You follow an invisible path over both his shoulders, feeling the broad expanse of them at the same time, and then move all the way down to his biceps

He wonders what’s going through your mind

All he can think about is, again, how no one else has ever been so loving with his body—especially not after his transformation

He wonders if, despite your kindness, some part of you wishes his skin was a normal human colour, or a normal human firmness

He wonders if you would’ve maybe agreed to officially date him if he wasn’t what he is

You move down to his forearms, then trace all the way back up his shoulders and down his chest until the whole top portion of his body’s clean

You seem to inhale sharply as you continue down to his torso

Down his stomach, your fingertips smooth over the ridges of his muscles before reaching his V-line

There’s no hiding it any longer, no hiding his desire for you

He’s worried it’ll put you off, but then he smells your arousal even through the soap’s perfume, and he realizes it’s mutual

Either way, you still don’t make any moves to initiate anything, so neither does he

He simply lets you clean him, lets you touch his body to your heart’s content until you’re reaching down to his calves and the next thing he knows, you’re kneeling before him and his dick is inches from your face

You bite your lip, glancing up at him, and that look in your eyes has him twitching right in front of you

You don’t have to do this, he wants to say, he appreciates it and everything but it’s really not necessary

But then you lean up and press a kiss to his tip and god, he wants to throat-fuck you so fucking badly

Your lips are perfectly soft as you kiss him again, and then you part your mouth open to stick your tongue out and lap at the precum dribbling from his slit

“Fuck, (y/n)”

He groans out a gravelly curse, throwing his head back as his hips jut forward in search of more

When you roll your tongue over his tip, lavishing the most sensitive part of his cock with attention, he has to grind his teeth together to prevent a snarl from rippling out

He snaps a hand out to tangle into your hair because he needs something to stabilize himself

And at the same time, it provides the perfect opportunity to drag you forwards, pressing you closer up against his cock so you’ve almost no choice but to swallow him down

You whimper around him, and feeling you do so drives him wild

He tries to let you suck him off at your own pace, he really does

But he just can’t resist impatiently pushing and pulling at your hair, all while his hips instinctively jerk forward, trying to cram more of himself down your throat, trying to feel more of you around him

And he feels bad for making you gag around him, but at the same time, fuck if it isn’t the hottest thing ever

He growls your name, bringing his other hand up to your hair, and when you look up at him, your eyes all watery and pleading, he slowly but surely feels his grasp on his self-control slipping

How can he resist face-fucking such a pretty little thing like you?

You almost seem to want it as much as he does, too

Squeezing your eyes shut with your brows furrowing in concentration, you slacken your jaw and stick your tongue out, creating just the perfect entrance for him to fuck however he pleases

Your lips stretch out around his thick cock, your cute little muffled whimpers making him pulse on your tongue with every thrust

He should be ashamed of the way he’s using you—but you just feel so fucking good

Watching you struggle to choke down his length is almost just as satisfying as the way your throat keeps tightening around him

Combined with the way your arousal’s filling the air—it’s bliss

He snarls something indistinct, thrusting hard and fast enough to make his balls slap against your chin every time he reaches the very back of your throat

And the combination of it all has his stomach tightening, but it’s just not enough to cum

No—he wants to save that to breed you

A few more seconds of enjoyment is all he allows himself before he pulls you off of him

He’s panting, chest heaving as he takes a moment to recover from the euphoria of your mouth

His cock is aching for more

“C’mere,” he says, and there’s that demonic lilt to his voice he can’t always control as he helps you back up again, “s’my turn to clean you”

Even though it’s hard to focus, even though all he can think about is bending you over and screwing your pretty little brains out, he tries his best to be as caring and considerate as you’d been with him

He lathers you up with soap, using it as an excuse to touch you even more, to massage every inch of your body

His hands savour the curves of your sides, from your chest to your waist, down to your hips and thighs, and then all the way back up to your chest again

He doesn’t fail to notice the way your breath hitches when his touch grazes over your tits—of course he doesn’t, he never doesn’t notice—so he allows himself the indulgence of squeezing them

They fit wonderfully in his palms, even as he grabs and toys with them at his leisure

You arch your back up, trying to push more of your chest into his hands, and if he wasn’t so turned on right now, he might chuckle at how needy you’re being

He tugs and pinches at your nipples, and when you make a breathy little whimper, it has him throbbing

“So good, little one, you’re doing so fucking good for me”

He’s so fucking horny

He drags his fingers along the inner flesh of your thighs, teasing at your sensitive skin

“You want it, little morsel, you want this?”

It’s not like he doesn’t know the answer, it’s not like he can’t tell how desperate you are when you nudge your legs further apart for him

But he wants to hear you say it

“Y-yes, Jack—please. Please, I want you~”

A slave to your every whim and desire as always, he pushes his fingers between your folds, and the both of you groan in unison as he stretches you out

He can just imagine you clenching around his cock instead of his digits

When he curls his finger just the right way, a moan bubbles from your parted lips and you stumble in place, like you almost can’t handle just how good he feels

With his free hand, he lifts your leg up, hooking it around his hip and pressing your back to the shower wall

You’ve nowhere to squirm, nowhere to escape

All you can do is take it

In and out, he pumps his fingers into your velvety walls until your thighs are shaking and your mewls are getting louder than the sound of the water hitting the tiles

Your shaky hands reach out to dig crescents into his skin, and the pain mixing in with his insatiable lust is such a wonderfully heady combination

When you moan his name again, he realizes he can’t wait any longer

He pulls his fingers out, lifts you up and presses your back to the shower wall so you're completely trapped against his muscular build

And then he aligns himself to your entrance, his thick tip catching at the edges of your entrance before finally, finally, he sinks all the way in

It's heaven

The way you suck him in, the way your walls flutter around him—you're divine

You shift in his hold, like you're trying to accommodate to the sheer size of him, and it has the plush flesh of your ass grinding right against his balls

He tries to hold back a moan, but part of it escapes him in a gravelly rumble, and you seem to tense around him when it does

With you clinging onto him like this, he doesn't even need to move his hips to fuck himself into you

All he does is lift you up and lower you back down, using your own weight as momentum, and the simple motion already has you whimpering and gushing around his cock

"Fuck, morsel~"

You're making his head spin

He's dizzy, already drunk off your sex

Up and down, up and down, he uses you like a toy, barely flinching from your weight even despite how much you keep squirming

The way you keep jutting your hips against him—like you're either trying to help or just too fucking horny to stay still—is so fucking adorable

Saliva filling his mouth at the temptation of it all—at the temptation of you and those little sounds you keep making and the smell of your arousal and god, just everything that makes you so infuriatingly irresistible—he presses his head into the crook of your neck, trying to hide the fact that he's very much so on the verge of drooling over you

But then he sees it again—sees that mark he left on your skin with his teeth, claiming you as his mate, and even though he should be fucking disgusted that he gave it to you without your consent, it instead has the opposite effect and it makes him snap

His

You're his—it's physically undeniable

It's like the realization really sinks in during the heat of the moment, now that he's too sex-drunk and shameless to care, and something about his instincts and his possessiveness just completely takes over

Animalistically fast and deliciously hard, he fucks into you like an animal in heat

With every thrust, he slams you down onto his cock and jerks his hips up into you, making the flesh of your thighs jiggle from the rush of actions as the smacking of his pelvis against yours fills the room

He's not entirely sure if he's hitting your cervix or your g-spot, too dazed in his fervor to care, but he knows he must be hitting something good because you're screaming for him

And it doesn't take long for your muscles to seize and your body to start shaking uncontrollably, and it's hard to tell because of all the water from the shower, but you're either squirting all over him or just getting really, really messy all of a sudden

His cock pulses and twitches between clenching walls, and you're squeezing him so hard it's almost painful but fuck if the pain doesn't feel good

Your body is so small and so delicate compared to his, but he can't bring himself to have the restraint he normally has

He's done controlling himself—he wants to wreck you

It all gets a bit blurry like it normally does when he loses himself to his instincts

The next thing he knows, he has you bent over the bathroom sink in front of the mirror, and the both of you are still dripping from the shower, which is still running in the background, but he couldn't care less

All he cares about is breeding you

He's never felt such a powerful urge to do so like this before

Your shaky hands claw helplessly at the ceramic of the sink, as if that could help you get a grip, but it's no use because he won't stop until he's ruined you

When he looks at your reflection, he finds that your eyes have rolled back and your mouth is parted in a mix of silent screams, broken gasps and dumb babbles of his cock splitting you in half, but that's not what he wants

He wants you to look at him when he pumps the entirety of his load inside you

Which is why, with one hand bruising your thigh to force you in place, force you still for him fuck you open, the other reaches out to grab a fistful of your hair and yank your gaze up

"Look at me, little whore—look at me when I fill you up, when I breed that perfect cunt and make you all mine"

It's like he doesn't have control of his actions or his words because even he barely recognizes that demonic snarl lacing his tone

It almost sounds like he’s threatening you

"Beg, my little bitch, beg for your mate's cum"

It's hard to distinguish any coherent words in your desperate babbling, and even in the unfocused reflection of your eyes, he can tell you're overstimulated, overwhelmed, struggling to accept every inch of his cock brutally pounding into your walls

But watching you struggle to obey him and feeling you struggle around him like writhing prey turns him on so fucking badly

He wants to give it all to you—you deserve to take it all

Which is why, with one final resounding thrust, he sheathes himself all the way inside you, sealing his hips into yours so that his cock is as deep as it'll go

You're on the very tip of your toes, the whole weight of your body supported almost solely by his pelvis in order to dig his cock into you

And with an inhuman sound, he finally cums

It feels good

It feels so, so good; better than any other orgasm he's ever experienced

It's like his whole body is alive, thrumming with a rush of adrenaline as ecstasy floods his veins

His body lurches forwards, jaw flexing shut as he somehow manages to resist sinking his teeth into your shoulder blade

And your little whimpers and gasps are just as fucking cute as ever

His orgasm is long and hard, and even after his high has reached its peak, he stays sheathed inside you

He's thoroughly wrecked your body; he can tell by how limp you've gone, letting yourself be held up only by him and the counter and nothing else

And he realizes he should pull out, give you a moment to rest and offer any and all aftercare you might need

But he doesn't want his cum to spill out of you

He wants to stay connected to you for as long as possible

And after all, why shouldn't he?

You're his mate

[daydreams-after-dark]

What's your fanfic fantasy? part 2

↳ tag list: open

Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

pairing : fem reader + Chan + Jisung

This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Chapter Summary: Jisung show you exactly what he can do to you. promising you will never not be able to imagine him fucking you. A surprise threesome ensues.

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, anal sex (m. rec), threesome.

“What was that Hyung?” Jisung asks but his eyes are firmly on you. How long has he been standing there?

“I didn’t catch what you said.”

Chan doesn’t take his eyes off you as he repeats himself, this time loud enough for Jisung, or anyone who might happen to be walking by to hear.

“I was just telling y/n here that you find it completely fucking annoying that she can’t imagine having your cock fill her up”.

Wow. How fucking blunt.

He breaks his gaze from you and looks up at Jisung who hasn’t moved. “Don’t you Jisung?”

Jisung nods.

Embarrassment floods over you now, dulling the dread just a little. You feel a pang of guilt. You realise you might be giving Jisung the impression that you don’t find him attractive, or that he isn’t fuckable. It isn’t him. You know plenty of people have the wildest fantasies about him. The problem is you. You're the one with some sort of fantasy cock block.

You feel awkward and out of place, out of your depth, but Chan and Jisung are giving off a dark, controlling and far from awkward energy. They seem to be quite fine with this, actually. It’s like time has slowed down for them. They are taking their time, silently planning their next move. They aren’t in a rush at all. It’s like they’ve caught their prey. You. And they are playing with you. Dragging out your fate.

It feels like an eternity before anyone speaks. And when they do it’s Jisung.

“Can I show her?” You can’t see his expression properly as the light is too dim. But from what you can tell he is giving off a mixture of energies: pissed off, lust and a hint of timidness. The timidness being toward Chan who seems to be orchestrating this whole situation.

“Yes, she needs to learn what it is you can do to her, so that she can’t imagine anyone but you fucking her.” Explains Chan.

Wait. What? Breathe. You need to breathe.

What did he just say? He needs to show you?

Jisung walks into the room, finally, and sits himself next to you on the couch. You won’t dare look at his face, instead you tentatively look down at his shoes in a bid to compose yourself. White sneakers. Okay. You slowly begin to run your eyes up his legs. Baggy jeans. You’re doing good. You trace his legs a little further up. Shit. He is fucking hard too. Even with the baggy pants and dingy light it is plain to see. Shit, don’t stare. To avoid lingering too long on his crotch, you quickly look up to a more appropriate eye line and see he is in an oversized black tee. His entire outfit is loose and baggy. It suits him.

You don’t want to look at his face. You're too ashamed. Why ashamed? Are you ashamed that you're finding this situation kind of hot? Ashamed to admit it because then Chan and Jisung would know you're into this? Even though, clearly, they are relishing this.

You try to push your thoughts aside and focus your attention on the collar of the shirt where it meets Jisung’s skin. His tanned, slender neck and protruding Adam’s apple looks so inviting. Your mind flashes to a vision of nibbling up his neck. Slowly. Taking your time.

Well, you can at least envision that, right?

Jisung scoots closer to you so that there is no space between you. The sides of your bodies are touching. You can barely breathe as he takes your chin in his hand and tips your head up gently to force you to look into his eyes. You have been avoiding his eyes, and you know why. You're held captive by them, like he's looking into your soul, like he can read your thoughts. His eyes are so big and Bambi-like and there is a desperate look in them, but his movements are confident and intentional.

“So can you at least imagine me this close to you ?” his voice is soft and low, and he casts his gaze down to your lips, almost brushing his lips with yours.

You shudder. He is so close you can feel his breath against your mouth. It’s intoxicating and it’s so intimate, although you know Chan is there too watching silently. You like that he’s watching, it heightens your arousal.

“What about this?” Jisung’s hand moves away from your jaw and begins tracing a circle on your knee with his index finger. Delicately, slowly, gently.

Your breath hitches, and you can feel yourself losing all rational thought.

With the side of his face still close to yours, he looks down to where his hand is and watches his fingers circling your skin, then looks back up to you to gauge your reaction. He bites his lower lip, his teeth digging into the flesh. God his lips are so soft and you have the urge to kiss him. You want to feel those lips on yours. You want him to bite your lip too.

As though sensing your desires, Jisung ever so delicately brushes his lips against the skin next to your mouth. He doesn’t want to give you what you want just yet. It appears he’s taking his time, making you wait.

He stops tracing your knee and places his whole hand on your thigh. His grip is gentle but firm with no hint of aggression or force.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs softly, his eyes downcast on on your lips.

You don’t say anything but lean your face in closer to his, and your lips meet. Gently. Just like all of Jisung’s movements so far, gentle but intentional. His lips feel soft and moist, and you immediately melt into the kiss. You part your mouth slightly and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. His grip on your thigh tightens and you feel a sense of urgency and hunger rush over you.

You want him to kiss you harder, so you bring a hand to the side of his face and deepen the kiss. He gets the point and matches you with his own heated energy. The hand on your knee now moves around your waist, bringing you in closer to his body. Your breath becoming heavy as you both gasp for air between kisses.

This is better than anything you could have imagined alone in your bed fantasizing. You wouldn’t have ever been able to imagine the feel of his plush lips on yours, or his warm tongue, or the feel of his body pressed against you. The way it's making you feel, you wouldn’t have been able to do it justice in your mind.

He is so close and he feels so good. But you need him even closer. You forget where you are and that Chan is even there. Right now your whole world is focused on kissing Jisung, and how perfect it feels.

Until he pulls away abruptly. A little whine escapes you and you feel pathetic for giving away how you're feeling. Not that they can’t tell.

Jisung slinks down to the floor and kneels in front of you and you instantly feel both the urge to tense up due to how vulnerable you're feeling, and a sense of fuck it! and enjoy everything Jisung has to offer.

He places a hand on each of your legs and parts them, automatically hitching your skirt up to an indecent placement. This position allows Jisung to kneel closer to you between your legs.

“I need you to memorise everything I’m about to do.” Jisung looks up at you for a moment and then down at your legs. “I want you to memorise the feel of my breath and my lips as I kiss your inner thighs”. He leans down to kiss the top of your thigh near your knee. “I want you to memorise my tongue against your skin”. He kisses your thigh just a little further up. “Can you do that for me?” another kiss. Little gasps escape your mouth with each press of his mouth.

“Yes!” you respond, your voice raspy. You can feel a tension growing in your core and your whole body feels like jelly. Right now you'd let him do anything he wants. Absolutely anything.

“Good girl.” Another kiss to your skin. Good girl? Yes, you want to be a good girl for him.

“Y/n.” Chan’s voice is gentle and kind. You look over to him and Jisung halts his kisses.

“Jisung and I need you to know that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You look back and forth between the two men. They are waiting patiently for your answer. For your consent.

“Okay, I want to continue for now,” you answer “and...I want to memorise your tongue buried in my pussy” you add, just to see how Jisung would react to such a statement.

With that the mood shifts. Jisung growls and hooks an arm under each of your thighs and drags you closer to the edge of the couch, positioning you in a semi-reclined position.

He resumes his kissing of your right inner thigh, and holding your leg in place so you don’t start trying to close them. His other hand explores your left thigh, gently caressing and stroking the sensitive skin.

Your breathing is heavy, your chest heaving. You can’t take your eyes off of Jisung as his kisses approach your aching, wet pussy.

“You’re so beautiful.” he murmurs.

“She is, isn’t she?” cooes Chan.

You glance over to Chan who is palming himself through his tight jeans. He’s fucking getting off on this too. It only makes you feel hotter, more aroused. Being watched like this, it was something.

You're brought back to Jisung as he takes his attention to your other thigh now, again pushing your leg wider with one hand as he greedily delivers hot wet kisses to the delicate skin. He is a lot messier and urgent now. His right hand reaches the juncture of where your thigh meets your underwear, a dark red lace thong.

Jisung’s mouth, his lips, his tongue are still giving your left thigh all the attention in the world as it moves up to meet the other edge of your lace panties. His right thumb pauses at edge of your underwear. You need him to touch you.

“You’re such a good girl for us, y/n.” Chan says, his voice sounds breathy and hoarse.

There it is again. Good girl. This is becoming too much. The situation, the gentle yet messy kissing from Jisung, laying here with your legs in the air, Chan watching. It is the most erotic scene you've ever been part of. You feel like your going to come as soon as Jisung’s fingers slip under your underwear.

“Please.” You whimper. Jisung lifts his gaze. He looks so fucking seductive.

“Please what?” His voice is deep and full of lust. He looks like he wants to devour you. “Say it.” He demands.

“Please… I need you inside of me.” You mean it too. You feel like the world is going to end if he isn’t inside of you soon.

Jisung stops his kisses but his hands remain dangerously close to your cunt. You just want him to slide his fingers through your wetness and press his tongue to your clit. You need him to.

“Why?” he pushes.

Oh God. Why is he making you wait?

“Because,” Your breathing is heavy and being so aroused is making it hard to speak. “I need to learn what it is you can do to me, so that I can’t imagine anyone but you fucking me.” You echo Chan’s words from earlier.

Jisung’s eyes turn even hungrier. “That’s right, that’s why I need to be inside you. You remember. Good girl.”

With that Jisung swiftly removes your underwear, sliding then down your legs and flicks them to the side on the couch.

“Let’s get this skirt off you too.” he proceeds to slip your skirt off too. It has ridden up around your waist and feels uncomfortable. You're glad to get rid of it.

Jisung hooks his arms under your thighs again, hitching you back into the position you were in before. With one last “are you ready?” look from him, he buries his face in your pussy. You're soaking wet and your lips are engorged, ready for Jisung’s mouth.

He begins to slide his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, and sucks it greedily before starting again. He lets out a hungry moan, showing you how much he is enjoying this. The sensation is almost unbearable. You're so close to your climax, with every languid stroke of his tongue bringing you just that little bit closer to the edge.

Perspiration begins to coat your skin and your breathing is rapid. You reach down with one hand and tangle it in Jisung’s hair, pulling him in closer. You let out a pleading whimper. You need him closer, deeper. You need him inside. You need him to fill you up and consume your entire being.

While his tongue is still delivering the most insane attention to your clit, you feel his fingers at your opening. You tense up in anticipation. Finally, Finally, he sinks two fingers deep inside of you and your body relaxes with relief as you feel the stretch. You let out a long, low moan as you accommodate his fingers. Jisung exhales sharply, and Chan releases a shaky breath from the other couch. This is intense for everybody.

You're so very close now. You slide a hand under your left thigh to hold it higher and wider to give Jisung as much access as possible. With your other hand still in his hair you hold on for dear life as he curls his fingers applying pressure to your g-spot. Your eyes squeeze closed and you throw your head back as Jisung continues to hit that deliciously tender spot.

“Come for him, y/n.” Chan’s voice is hoarse and raspy. Jisung’s pace quickens as he fucks you with his fingers and you roll your hips against his face. Harder. You need it harder. He gets the idea and fucks you even harder with his fingers. You can hear the heavy and ragged breathing from the two men combined with your moans and gasps for air, and the wet, slippery noises of Jisung’s fingers in your pussy.

You can’t hold it any longer and your orgasm hits hard. You're suspended in the moment and time is standing still. Your breath stops as you hit your peak. Then waves of relief melt through your body, oozing through your veins and out your fingers and toes. Jisung helps you through it with a consistent pace, gradually easing off as you come down from your climax.

Holy fuck. You rest your head back and try to catch your breath. Jisung pulls away and you groan at the emptiness. You close your eyes taking a moment to savour this feeling.

“Taste her, Hyung.”

Your eyes dart open to see Jisung kneeling back on his heels, arm outstretched towards Chan, offering his wet glistening fingers to him. Chan sits on the edge of the couch and takes Jisung’s hand in his.

They look into each other's eyes as he takes his fingers into his mouth, sucking and licking his fingers that are covered in… you. Chan takes his time, making sure he gets every last drop. Chan knows how you taste. It's so erotic. The two men look so - intimate in this moment, as though there is something more than friendship between them. You watch mesmerized.

“Shit. This tastes so good, Jisung. Do you think she will be able to forget you now?” he says.

“But Hyung, I haven’t shown her everything yet.” Jisung sounds mischievous, his eyes have a naughty look to them, and his jeans are tented from his erection.

You can’t help it. You have to say something. “That’s right,” you begin, “I need to know what his cock feels like.”

Jisung looks at you eagerly and scoots back to his previous position kneeling between your legs. He wraps his arms around you and despite his eagerness, presses his lips against yours in a gentle kiss. He breaks away and leans his forehead against yours.

“Can I please fuck you?” he whispers. He kisses you again, this time slipping his tongue inside your mouth. You can taste yourself on his tongue. All three of you have had a taste now.

Jisung’s breathing is heavy as he works his kisses along your neck while he waits for you to give the green light.

“Yes.” you whimper.

Jisung pulls away and gets up from the floor. “Chan, help me move the chaise” he removes the drinks and glasses from the chaise-coffee table and Chan gets up to help him slide the piece of furniture towards you. You lift your legs up onto the couch allowing the chaise to sit flush with it, creating a bed-like setup.

You look over to Chan whose tighter than tight pants can barely hold him in. He is certainly enjoying the show that's for sure, and you wonder what he was feeling and thinking as he sucked Jisung’s fingers?

Jisung is on to top of you, sliding you down and laying you on your back along the newly configured furniture. Kissing you, caressing your cheek. “I’m not going to let you forget me.” He lifts your shirt over your head and eases you up to remove your bra.

You sigh at freedom. Jisung sighs at the sight. Chan groans from the side and you can see him unbuttoning his jeans. Although you can’t see clearly, you do see him unzip his fly and release his erect cock. It’s big, and he begins to stroke it, his eyes fixated on what was unfolding.

You grab Jisung’s hair as you frantically kiss his lips, his face, anything you can get your mouth to. You run your hands down his back to the hem of his t-shirt. You want it off. You want his bare body against yours. You tug his shirt up and he breaks the kiss to remove it, tossing it aside with your clothes.

“After this you are always going to imagine my cock inside of you. You know that right? You’re not going to forget me.” He says confidently between kisses. He is so sure of himself.

He grabs onto your leg as he lowers his hips between them and you can feel how hard he is. You roll your hips against him, most likely getting your wetness all over his jeans. Your hands explore his bare torso, running them over his muscles. His shoulders. Oh God. They are so toned. His whole body is strong and toned. So this is what he’s been hiding under his baggy clothes?

Jisung stops kissing you long enough to finish undressing and resumes his position and you part your legs as wide and high as you can. You need him as close, as deep, as possible. He lays over you, propping himself with one hand, and uses the other to line up his cock to your entrance. His eyes are locked on yours. You swallow hard.

This is it. You're about to get fucked by Jisung!

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face in so you can kiss him. As you do he pushes into you. Slowly. All the way in. You both exhale in relief as he stretches and fills you. He pauses for a moment and leans his forehead against yours. It’s like this moment is almost too much for him. He looks into your eyes as he pulls out just as slowly, almost the whole way, then pushes his cock back in. Slow and steady, pausing for a long moment each time he is buried all the way inside of you. He does this a few times before picking up the pace and thrusting a little harder and faster each time.

“You’re so good taking me like this.” He says between thrusts. “So. Fucking. Good”. He pulls out almost all the way again, and slams into you hard this time. Over and over. The sound of skin against skin filling the room. The leather upholstery of the couch squeaking as you're being fucked into it. Your moans grow louder. Jisung’s kissing and touching becomes less controlled, almost frantic, as his hips snap violently against you. Chan is rubbing his cock with a look of delight on his face.

Sweat covers Jisung’s body, a drop rolling down his brow, and you bring your hand up to wipe it away. This feels so fucking amazing. He his fucking you relentlessly and you don’t want it to end.

“Jisung,” You pant “you feel so good." He grins at you, pleased, not slowing for a moment. You smile back at him and try to remember his expression for later when you're alone.

“Jisung, make sure you fuck her good.” Chan reminds you he is still here. Still watching. You notice him stand up and walk around the back of the chase behind Jisung and over to your left. Is he going to get you to suck him off? But he doesn’t come any closer. Instead, he kneels on the couch to reach over to a chest of drawers and pulls out a tube of some kind. 

He swiftly removes his shirt, tossing it to the growing pile of discarded clothing, and 61 ?.',;tfplaces a hand on Jisung’s sweat-sheened back, and slowly strokes his hand along his skin until he is standing behind him.

Jisung’s breath gets caught in his throat as he registers Chan’s touch. You watch Chan from underneath Jisung, and see him squirt some of the tube’s contents into his right hand. 

You feel your climax build at the mere thought of what might be unfolding. Chan holds Jisung by the hip and steps closer to him. You can’t see exactly what is happening, but then Jisung sucks his breath in hard and then moans. It’s the sound of being teased and stretched. You're sure of it. Jisung's thrusts become wobbly and then he stops altogether, staying buried as deep as possible inside you.

Then another sharp gasp and a look of absolute pleasure washes over his face. A second finger, perhaps?

“Jisung, you’ve been so good to y/n, you deserve to feel extra good today.” You watch Chan with his eyes fixated on Jisung’s ass, biting his lip, hungry for him. He gently strokes and caresses his hip and thigh, then the small of his back.

“Do you think you can make her come again?” he says as he thrusts his fingers deep into Jisung who moans loudly.

“Maybe we could get her there together?” Chan adds.

Jisung nods desperately. “Yes.” He manages to muster. His whimpers let you know Chan has removed his fingers, it sounds a lot like yours when Jisung pulled his fingers from you. Desperate and pathetic.

You see Chan quirt a large amount of lube into his hand, and what seems to be him applying it to his cock. From this angle you can’t really see what he is doing with his lower half, but Jisung’s responses are giving you a good indication of what's happening.

Chan presses himself up against Jisung and you can feel the pressure of it push Jisung into you. From the look on Jisung’s face, the pressure against you, and the increase in volume in his groans, tells you that that Chan is penetrating him. When you think Chan is fully inside, you wrap your arms around Jisung’s neck again and pull him into another messy kiss. You're close. Really, really close.

“Jisung, you’re doing so good for me, I just need you to go a little harder for a moment”. You're not sure if he has heard you but you know he has when he immediately picks up the intensity. Chan seems to be holding off taking things any further with him for a moment, instead guiding Jisung’s hips into a steady rhythm.

Your orgasm washes over you this time. Pleasure coursing through your body. You're overcome with a flood of emotions and feel like you might to cry.

Jisung is still declaring how you will never be able to forget him, but his words are starting to become incoherent and jumbled. His hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat and his eyes have become unfocused. He is struggling to maintain control of his senses, especially because Chan is starting to move in and out of him now.

You lock eyes with Chan. His gaze anchors you back to the moment, grounding you in some way while the man between you is a mess, falling apart, whimpering and moaning incoherently.

Your eye contact instigates some sort of unspoken agreement. You both need to take care of Jisung. Make the next part all about making him feel good.

You break away from Chan’s gaze and turn your attention back to Jisung. Your hands are still around his neck, so you guide his head to rest against your chest.

“Jisung, it’s time to us take care of you now.” You coo, stroking his face. He is incredibly beautiful when he's a mess. “Can you let us do that?”

“Mmm hmm… please” Jisung begs, still lost in all the sensations.

“You took care of me so good, Jisung. And you’re still so hard inside of me.” It is true. His cock feels harder than ever, and you can feel the jolts of Chan’s thrusts becoming harder and faster.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Jisung” you whisper. You continue to hold and stroke Jisung, whispering reassurances to him. It feels like Chan is fucking him to death.

“I’m gonna come…” Jisung announces all of a sudden, and you feel his whole body tense up and his cock pulse as he releases himself inside of you.

Chan continues to thrust, his hips slapping against Jisung. Jisung goes limp on top of you, completely exhausted and you continue to hold him tightly.

“You did so good.” You whisper so only Jisung hears. He lifts his head and you hold his gaze. His eyes well up with tears.

“I did?” Jisung sounds like he is in disbelief.

“Yes, you were perfect.” You smile.

“You really won’t forget me?” Jisung’s voice sounds desperate. What started out as an order, a confident declaration of how you wouldn’t be able to forget what it feels like to be fucked by him, has turned into more of a pathetic and hopeful question. It makes you feel a swell in your chest and you want to wrap him up and look after him.

Chan is still fucking him relentlessly trying to reach his own climax. He hadn’t been making much noise except for a few grunts here and there, when suddenly, without warning, he becomes noisy, with high pitched breathy moans. Then lets out a long low groan as he empties himself inside Jisung. He leans down and kisses his back, then pulls out his cock gently. “I’m going to get some towels.” He walks off for a moment to gather the aftercare items.

Jisung pulls himself out of you, and lays against your side while you continue to hold and stroke his face. ‘Holy shit!” he says, “I didn’t know this was going to happen!” he lifts himself off you and props himself up on an elbow. He has pulled himself together slightly and he grins blissfully.

Chan returns with towels and he helps Jisung clean up, and Jisung helps you clean up. None of you say much as you find your clothes and get dressed again. But you do share blissed out, freshly fucked grins.

a/n: I know I said this blog is not for my lovely dovey stories... but this fic has so much sex, with multiple people, that it's going to live on this blog.

↳ tag list: open

@rylea08 @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @piscesrising01 @lunearta

[steddieas-shegoes]

hiii not sure if you’re still taking requests but

no upside down au where teen single dad steve approaches eddie after hellfire bc every parenting stuff keeps mentioning how reading to babies is super important for their development but his dyslexia makes reading so hard let alone be expressive w it too and the kids keep mentioning how eddie is amazing on dnd. eddie is skeptical cause how come no ones has heard of king steve’s one year old ? but he accepts when steve offers paying but after seeing steve w his baby and understanding how he changed he refuses the money and cue them slowly falling in love and becoming a family <333

Sorry this took *checks watch* like 9 months to finish! I kinda took some creative turns, but it's done!

read on ao3

rated t | 5,182 words | no cw | tags: mostly fluff, single parent steve, not canon compliant, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

Early August 1985

“Steve, it’s not like he’s gonna fuckin’ bite, dude,” Dustin said from the passenger seat.

“Language.”

“She’s not even awake,” Dustin whisper yelled. “I promise he’s cool. The worst he’ll say is no. It’s not like he’s gonna bully you.”

“No one else knows I’m asking him this, right?” Steve was suddenly worried that all the kids knew about Steve’s learning disability and they’d think he was actually stupid and-

“No, it’s just me. But if you don’t hurry up and go in before everyone else gets here, they’ll find out.”

Steve glanced in the backseat, smiling to himself at his sleeping daughter. She’d been out for nearly the entire drive from his house to Dustin’s to the high school, so she’d probably be waking up within the next 20 minutes and she’d be ready to stretch her legs.

She was a squirmy thing from the moment she figured out how to scoot around the floor, and it only got worse when she learned to walk at 11 months. The only time she was still and staying out of trouble was when she was asleep.

“If she starts crying, just sit back there with her. She just likes having company,” Steve reminded him as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Yep. I’ve literally babysat for you before. I can handle her for 5 minutes.”

“Attitude.” Steve shook his head and opened the door, getting out and only closing the door most of the way so it wouldn’t wake her up.

Eddie always showed up 30 minutes early for Hellfire Club to set up according to Dustin. He took this club very seriously, even as a third year senior. He kept it running all summer so that incoming freshmen would have time to get acquainted with his style of DMing or whatever.

Steve respected the dedication, though he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe that dedication were put into his homework, he would’ve graduated in May with Steve.

But Steve couldn’t actually judge. Not with the fact that he was pretty close to not graduating himself. He had a pretty good reason, but still.

The auditorium door closed loudly behind him, making him jump and clench his jaw painfully.

“Door’s broken. You gotta hold it while it closes so it doesn’t slam,” a voice said from the door to the backstage area.

Steve squinted through the semi-darkness and felt his stomach turn. Eddie.

“I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had to open it. Figured they would have fixed it by now,” Steve replied, walking closer to the guy he needed to talk to.

“No shit! Is that King Steve? In the flesh?” Eddie’s dramatics were endearing, even if it was slightly annoying that he pulled out the stupid high school nickname he’d lost well before he graduated.

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. This wasn’t gonna go well.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but none of your precious kiddos have made it yet. It’s still early.”

Steve nodded. “One of them’s sitting in my car in the parking lot. Um, Henderson? He’s an incoming freshman.”

“Ah. Dustin’s got a place in Hellfire if you’re worried. I don’t turn anyone away who wants to be here.”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Steve needed to just spit it out. “He said you’re like, great at storytelling or whatever. Like you’re the best DM he’s ever seen and he knows I could use those skills for something.”

“Oh? What could Steve Harrington need DM skills for?”

“My daughter.”

The silence following his confession was louder than the door slamming only a minute ago.

He probably could’ve revealed his motives a little better, work up to the fact that he even had a daughter maybe. Very few people actually knew, and he had to keep it that way until he could leave his parent’s house.

“Your…daughter.”

“Yes. She’s just turned one and the doctors said reading to her is like, super important for learning words and helping her learn how to have an imagination and stuff. And I do read to her!” Steve suddenly felt worried that Eddie would think he was a bad parent. “I try to. But I’m, well, Nancy says it’s dyslexia? So words are kinda hard and it gives me a headache if I try to read for more than a few minutes and I’m so busy focusing on the words I don’t think I’m making it very fun for her-“

“Woah. Steve. Slow down.” Eddie braced his hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed. “I didn’t even know you had a daughter. Does anyone know you have a daughter?”

“The kids do, yeah. My parents do because they kinda helped cover it all up and made sure I still graduated so I didn’t embarrass them or whatever.” Steve looked down at the floor, shoving his hands in his pockets. He didn’t really want to go through the whole thing with this guy. “Robin Buckley knows? She’s my best friend. The Byers and Wheelers, Hopper. Some teachers know but were sworn to secrecy.”

“Huh.”

Steve looked up to see Eddie stepping closer to him, soft smile on his face.

“So what do you need me for exactly?”

“Dustin said you’re really good at telling stories and I figured maybe you would be willing to read to her? Not every day, like I can work with your schedule or whatever. Evening would be best for me, but it’s not really a big deal if it has to be other times. She comes to work with me so if it had to be during the day, you could sit in the office or something, I dunno.” Steve shrugged. He hated asking for help. But Dustin insisted Eddie was actually a good guy and would keep his secret. No one who saw her at work assumed Steve Harrington was a single parent at 18. That would just be absurd. “I just don’t want her to miss out.”

Eddie’s hand drifted down his arm, holding his hand for a moment before he stepped back.

“My schedule is kinda random. But I’m sure we can work something out.”

Steve’s shoulders fell as his body relaxed. “Yeah? I can pay you. Not much. My parents mostly cut me off.” Steve was scrambling. “I can give you gas money and stuff for having to come to us. And like, food? I can cook.”

Eddie’s eyes were intense, watching his every move, making him nervous.

“How ‘bout a free trial? I’ll do it for a couple weeks and then we can see about payment.”

Steve nodded eagerly. “Yeah, yeah. Cool.” Jesus, he was embarrassing. What happened to his charm? “Would you be able to start soon?”

“Normally, I’d say I can come by after Hellfire, but I have an…appointment right after tonight. I can come by tomorrow?”

Steve smiled. “Tomorrow’s good. I work until five.”

“I can be at your house by seven.”

“Great! I have plenty of books. Right now, she’s really into Old Macdonald, but I think it’s just because it sorta sounds like her name and we get to make silly noises,” Steve smiled to himself, not seeing the way Eddie was smiling too. “I think she’ll probably like whatever you read to her, though.”

“What’s her name?”

“Mackenzie. Robin read it in a book and said it meant fire-born or something? It sounded cool. We call her Mac or Kenzie for short so she hears Macdonald and thinks we’re giving her another nickname,” Steve laughed. “Anyway, I better get back to the car. If she’s awake and Dustin has to deal with her crying for too long, he gets an attitude.”

“Mackenzie. I like it.” Eddie nodded once. “See you tomorrow, Stevie.”

Steve agreed and waved, turning around to leave. By the time he realized Eddie’s nickname for him, Eddie was already backstage.

****

Steve was nervous.

He nearly burnt the chicken he was cooking for dinner just from getting distracted by thoughts of Eddie being in his home.

He didn’t even know why. Maybe it was the fact that he’d always thought Eddie was kinda rough around the edges and was surprised he’d agreed so easily. Maybe it was bringing someone new into the small group he’d had around for a couple years. Maybe it was the way Eddie’s hand on his shoulder seemed to leave a permanent mark despite being one of the softest touches he’d felt from another adult in a while.

Mackenzie was in her high chair already, eating some of the noodles he’d made as a side. She’d been practicing using a fork, so quite a few had fallen on the floor, but Steve still smiled and told her she did a great job any time she managed to get one to her mouth.

The doorbell rang and Steve felt his heart stop.

“Daddy!” Mackenzie squealed when the bell rang. She knew that usually meant Hopper was here. Everyone else just came inside on their own. “Hop!”

“No, baby, not Hop. Not tonight. It’s my friend, Eddie. He’s gonna tell you a fun story, okay?” Steve ran his hands through her hair as he walked by to get the door.

When he opened the door, Eddie was standing there with a handful of books, a box of crayons, and what looked like a hairbow.

“I’m here to entertain the princess!” Eddie exclaimed. “Lead me to her highness!”

Steve couldn’t hide the grin on his face if he wanted to. “She’s currently trying to stab noodles to death. I’m sure you’ll be entertained.”

“Ah, they must have wronged her. I’ll assist,” Eddie made his way past Steve, walking towards the kitchen.

Steve knew he’d been to a couple of the parties he threw to sell, but had no idea he remembered the layout of his house. Maybe he had one of those picture minds.

As Steve entered the kitchen, he noticed that Eddie had set down the pile of books on the counter before he sat down in front of Mackenzie.

There were a few books he recognized: an ABC book that he was pretty sure he’d had when he was a kid but had since lost, a book of fairy tales with Rapunzel on the cover, something by Beatrix Potter, and a couple of coloring books that featured princesses and dragons and horses.

“She isn’t really old enough to color, is she?” Steve asked, interrupting what must have been a very amusing conversation of mostly babbling. “I don’t have any coloring stuff.”

“Coloring with skill? No. She definitely doesn’t have the motor skills to color in the lines or even use the right colors for the right things. But it does help her learn how to hold a crayon. My uncle couldn’t really afford much when I was a baby, so for every Christmas until I was in school he would get me new crayons and coloring books. I don’t really remember how I did, but I do remember having fun.” Eddie turned back to Mackenzie. “And sometimes it’s fun to just make a mess, right?”

Mackenzie clapped her hands together, sending the toddler fork she’d been using to the floor with a noodle attached to it. Steve wordlessly grabbed one of her spoons from the drawer and gave it to her, kissing the top of her head before he knelt down to pick up the fork.

Eddie watched silently, something soft about the way he didn’t interrupt anything even though he could’ve kept talking.

“I made chicken and pasta. It’s probably not my best work, but I made enough for you if you haven’t eaten yet,” Steve offered as he walked to the stove to start plating the food for himself.

“I wouldn’t turn it down. Wayne’s not exactly known for serving five star meals,” Eddie joked. “He believes in the power of fried bologna and cheese sandwiches with a bag of chips.”

Steve grimaced. “Okay, well I made enough for you to bring home some leftovers too.”

“You don’t have to-”

“You’re taking home leftovers.”

Steve turned to see Eddie’s widened eyes and open mouth that slowly formed into a smile.

“I guess I’m taking home some leftovers.” He turned to Mackenzie and tickled her neck. “Your daddy is pushy isn’t he?”

Steve blushed, but continued making up a plate for Eddie.

As they sat and ate, Eddie talked about all of his favorite books for little kids, and how he remembered sneaking into the library after school for years because he knew he didn’t wanna go home. He talked about the first time a teacher wrote a positive letter home, an English teacher who said his fictional essay was the best in the class and he should consider writing as a career. He even talked about his plans for the school year campaigns, but made Steve swear not to mention anything to the kids.

“I’ll know if you tell them,” Eddie winked.

Steve believed him.

When they were done, Steve grabbed Mackenzie from her chair.

“I’m gonna give her a quick bath if you wanna bring all that stuff to her room. Second floor, third door on the right. It’s a little messy right now. Someone decided to pull all her toys from her box yesterday and I haven’t had time to clean it up,” Steve tickled Mackenzie’s side, making her giggle and turn her head into his shoulder.

“You need me to clean this up?” Eddie asked, gesturing to the table.

“Nah, I’ll do it while you read to her.”

Despite his efforts, bath time was never truly quick. Mackenzie loved to splash around and play with her toys, and if he tried to wash her hair too quickly, she would be grumpy for the rest of the night. He definitely didn’t want that for Eddie.

He set a timer for 10 minutes and tried to explain to a very excited Mackenzie that when the timer went off, it would be time to wash her hair and get out.

“You wanna have time to play with Eddie, so we can’t play for too long in the water.”

She didn’t seem to pay any attention to him, already too busy making her rubber duck fight with her mermaid Barbie.

He observed while she played, bringing in the rubber car she liked to pretend to drive on the side of the tub.

When the timer went off, she let him wash her hair without a fuss, and he quickly wrapped her up in a towel to get her into pajamas.

Eddie was waiting in her room when he got there, coloring books spread out on the floor. He smiled up at them from where he sat, legs crossed, hands in his lap.

“Squeaky clean?” He asked, waving at Mackenzie.

“Definitely lacking noodles in places noodles shouldn’t be at least,” Steve said, making his way to her changing table to get her dressed. “She must be pretty excited about you being here. Usually bath time takes at least 30 minutes and I have to bribe her with chocolate milk to get out.”

“She knows we’re gonna have a lot of fun. I think I’m gonna read Goodnight Moon first. That’s one of my favorites.”

“She’ll love that,” he said as he buttoned the snaps of her onesie.

As soon as he set her on the floor next to Eddie, she reached for a coloring book with a mermaid on it.

“Daddy! Muh!”

“Yeah, baby, it’s a mermaid! Just like your doll in the bath.” Steve pointed to the fish next to the mermaid. “And that’s a fish. Fish swim in the ocean.”

He felt Eddie’s eyes on him while he pointed to some other sea creatures and told Mackenzie what they were.

Eventually, he looked over at Eddie, blushing at the soft smile on his face. “What?”

“You’re a really good dad, Steve.”

“Oh. Uh. Thanks,” Steve felt heat flood his body.

It’s not that no one had ever said that to him. Robin had told him plenty of times, Joyce had whispered it to him when no one else was paying attention, even Hopper had given him a handshake and said he was doing a good job once. But hearing it from Eddie, in this situation, when he’d been feeling like such a failure lately, was enough to make him want to cry.

He had to get out of this room.

“I should go clean up and leave you to it.”

“Sure, yeah. We’ll be right here.”

Steve booked it out of the room, rushing down the stairs to try to get busy with cleaning before his brain settled on crying over a compliment.

But the table was cleared. The high chair was wiped down. When he turned to the sink, the dishes were stacked up to dry in the rack. The counters were wiped, the dish towel had been put back on the handle of the oven to dry, and leftovers had been put in a container to finish cooling down.

Steve let the tears fall.

Fuck it, if Eddie was going to be this nice, he could have a little cry.

He walked quietly to the bathroom to put all the bath toys in the basket, but stopped outside Mackenzie’s bedroom when he heard giggling.

He’d closed the door halfway, just so she wouldn’t get too distracted if he walked by the room, but he couldn’t help looking in.

He felt like crying again when he saw Mackenzie sitting on Eddie’s lap, pointing at something in the book.

“Where’s the moon?” Eddie asked.

“Moo!” Mackenzie said, smacking at a place in the book.

“There’s the moon! Good job, little one.” Mackenzie leaned back against Eddie’s chest. “And where’s the…toys?”

She pointed again, but slightly less enthusiastically. Steve could see her energy dropping quickly.

He watched as Eddie told her she did a good job again and then continued reading.

Her eyes drooped more with every page. Eddie’s voice got closer to a whisper with every sentence.

Steve fell just a little bit more with every second that passed.

*****

October 1985

Eddie came every day. Despite the fact that Steve insisted he didn’t need to, that he didn’t want to ruin his schedule, Eddie showed up like clockwork at seven every single evening.

Steve learned to expect him, always made enough dinner for all of them to enjoy before Mackenzie had her bath and then got to read with Steve.

Every night, Eddie would clean up while she took a bath, and every night, he’d let her pick a page to color while he read something to her, switching to a bedtime story when she started crawling into his lap.

Steve would watch them often, laying down on the carpet and smiling as he listened to Eddie use different voices for characters, asking her questions so she was involved, and whispering when she started to drift off.

Other times, he’d try to get something done he’d been putting off, like cleaning the bathroom or folding laundry.

Eddie never accepted payment.

Steve tried bringing it up once school started, certain that this time spent here could’ve been better spent on homework or a part-time job that paid better than what Steve could offer. Eddie just shook his head and insisted that other than Hellfire every Thursday, he would be there for free.

They got to know each other over dinner, and Steve found that he was right to have butterflies every time Eddie smiled at him, every time he would touch his hand as he walked by to say hi to Mackenzie.

“Halloween costume ideas?” Eddie asked with his mouth full. Steve had given up long ago on trying to get him to wait until he was done chewing. It wasn’t that big of a deal. “What did this little miss go as last year?”

“Oh. She was a bumblebee.” Steve smiled at the memory. “Cutest costume I saw all night.”

“I bet.” Eddie took a sip of his water. “And you?”

“Oh, I didn’t dress up.”

“What? Why not?” Eddie sounded genuinely upset.

“Just got away from me, I guess? By the time I thought about it, nothing good was left at the store,” Steve shrugged, unbothered. He’d never been that into Halloween. His focus was making sure Mackenzie had fun.

“And no one offered to help you make something?” Eddie was no longer eating and Mackenzie had turned her attention to him when his tone became serious.

“I didn’t ask.”

“But no one offered.” Eddie stood up and walked over to his backpack. “Okay, we’ve gotta plan. Did you already pick something for her?”

He came back holding a notebook and a pencil, brows set in a straight line. Steve had never seen him look so serious.

“I had a few ideas, but I wanted to let her pick something at the store,” Steve said.

“Lay them on me.”

They discussed costumes for the next 30 minutes, but after only 10, Mackenzie whined to get out of her chair. Eddie wordlessly stood up and picked her up, setting her in his lap and letting her poke and prod at him and his notebook.

Steve watched them both, accepting for the first time that this wasn’t just a crush that was gonna go away.

He’d fallen completely head over heels for Eddie, and he had no clue what to do about it.

*****

November 1985

Steve was the only one who had space to host Thanksgiving.

He became manic a week before, realizing that his work schedule would not allow him to have much time to clean unless he did it at night. The problem was that he would get a migraine if he didn’t sleep.

“So let’s work on it together. I can come right after school. Cancel Hellfire this week,” Eddie offered.

“But you already won’t have it next week because of Thanksgiving. I can’t ask you to-”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. If I’m gonna be eating here, I should probably help clean up at least.”

So they worked on a little at a time.

Eddie wasn’t always helpful, getting distracted by some of the smallest things. But his company was appreciated all the same.

“You could invite Wayne, ya know,” Steve offered while he dusted the shelves in the living room. “Plenty of room and food.”

“Thanks, but he always works Thanksgiving day for the double pay. We usually do something the day after,” Eddie answered while he cleaned up all of Mackenzie’s toys.

“If he decides not to work, just let him know.”

“Will do, Stevie.”

He didn’t just help clean, he helped him do the shopping, too.

“I know it’s way harder with a baby, so if you give me a list, I can handle the shopping,” Eddie said while Steve plated their dinners.

“You don’t-”

“Have to, I know. But I can and will.” Eddie’s hand brushed against Steve’s lower back. “Let me help.”

Steve could barely resist the shiver that took over his entire body.

“Okay. Sure.”

Some of the brands were wrong, and he forgot the apples for the apple pie, but Steve still felt immense relief knowing that he had someone to help.

And without it, Thanksgiving would’ve been a disaster.

It was still a bit of a mess, but that was mostly because the kid’s table turned into a food fight that Max started and Mackenzie, of course, continued, until everyone was involved.

But the picture Jonathan took would get framed and hang up near the fireplace in the living room anyway.

******

December 1985

“I cannot believe you waited until Christmas Eve to wrap gifts. That’s not what parents actually do, is it?” Eddie asked as he fought with the tape dispenser for the fifth time in less than an hour.

“I don’t know if I’m the best judge of what parents do. Mine weren’t around much and probably didn’t even wrap my gifts themselves.” Steve took the tape from him, pulled some loose from the roll, and handed it back. “But I kinda always pictured it like this.”

Robin made him swear he’d talk to Eddie about his feelings before the end of the year. The end of the year was soon, real soon.

What better shot did he have than while Mackenzie was asleep and they were wrapping presents together?

“You pictured last minute wrapping with bribed help in your living room?” Eddie asked, amusement in his tone.

“Not exactly,” Steve huffed out a laugh. “More like spoiling my kid with someone I care about.”

Steve watched Eddie’s hands freeze against the clothes box full of new finger puppets they’d both gotten her. He looked over and felt his stomach swoop as Eddie’s eyes found his.

“Stevie-” Eddie set the box down and turned to face Steve.

“Wait, I just. Before you break my heart, hear me out.” Steve already felt his world shrinking, his heart rabbiting in his chest at the thought of losing Eddie entirely. “I’ve spent a lot of time with you for months. Like, more than almost anyone else. I’ve watched you with Kenzie, and how much she loves you and always asks for ‘Ed’ even when it’s way before when you’re gonna be here. You make me smile and laugh and that’s not always easy to do these days. You helped me when you didn’t have to, when you had absolutely no reason to trust that King Steve was a better person. You’re there for all the other kids even though you’re trying to get through school for real this time. I didn’t really plan a big speech, sorry. This is just rambling, I’m doing what Robin does.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie placed his hand on the side of Steve’s neck. “I get what you’re saying.”

“You do?”

“I think so.” Eddie stepped in closer. “But I think you might just be lonely.”

It stung. It wasn’t inaccurate, but it still hurt to think Eddie thought so little of him.

“I think I know how I feel.”

Eddie’s hand dropped from his neck and he took a step back. “I don’t wanna argue, Stevie. I just think you might need to separate yourself from the situation. I’m just always around, ya know?”

“You’re always around because I want you around!” Steve was just a bit too loud, but he knew Mackenzie was a heavy sleeper. “When you aren’t here, I check the clock to know when you will be. I get excited to leave work now because I’m not coming home to do the same thing I always did before. I get to see you and hear about your day and talk to you about mine and see you with my daughter, who probably loves you as much as I do.”

“You…love me?”

“Yes. I do. And I promise it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I still want you here, reading to Kenzie. But I know how I feel. I know why I feel the way I do. You can’t tell me how to feel.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to.” Eddie sighed. “I’m just kinda surprised. Didn’t expect you to be into guys, let alone me. I’m not exactly good boyfriend material. Or stepparent material, either.”

“Oh, fuck that. You’re more her other parent than her mom ever was. She gave her to me the moment she had her and wished me luck before her entire family moved across the country.” Steve felt tears in his eyes. “I trust you. I want you around. I love you.”

Eddie swallowed, eyes pointed towards the carpet.

A minute passed, two. It was rapidly approaching awkward when finally Eddie spoke.

“But I’m so bad at wrapping presents.”

Steve snorted, but felt relief wash over him. “I can do the wrapping. This Christmas, next Christmas, as many Christmases as you’ll stay.”

“All of them?”

“Sounds good to me.” Steve leaned in slowly, let his hands grasp at the front of Eddie’s shirt to pull him closer. “How many Christmases do kids usually believe in Santa?”

“I dunno. I stopped believing when I caught my dad stealing the two presents under our tree when I was four.” Eddie let his hands fall to Steve’s hips. “But something tells me the little princess will be a believer for a while. Better get used to me ripping holes in the paper and using too much tape.”

“Think I can handle it.”

Every time Steve had pictured kissing Eddie before this, he’d thought it would be like any other first kiss, maybe a little awkward since it was his first with a guy.

Instead, it was soft, sweet, slow, perfect. He’d kissed a lot of girls in high school, had kissed them well. Not all of them were great, but even a less than good kiss was still decent.

This was more than any other kiss he’d ever had.

Eddie held him like he would never let go, like this kiss would last forever.

It couldn’t, but that’s how it felt.

When they finally pulled apart, Steve rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

“You wanna stay tonight? We can both do the Santa gifts with Kenzie before all the kids bother us,” Steve asked.

“I should call Wayne. I told him I’d be home by midnight.”

“He can come over in the morning, too,” Steve said. “If you want.”

“Are you sure you’re ready for Wayne? He can be a little…gruff.”

“I’m not worried,” Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Hopper’s basically my dad. Plus, Mac’s got a way of breaking the tough old men down.”

“Bets?”

Steve pulled away and started wrapping another present before he got too distracted. “I give it ten minutes.”

“Oh, how generous. I’m giving it five.”

They both laughed as Eddie decided he’d be more help putting already wrapped presents in her stocking and under the tree and making sure everything was put away when Steve was done.

And for the first time, Eddie stayed the night, holding Steve against his chest while they slept.

They both cried when Mackenzie opened her presents excitedly. She was too little to do it herself last year, so seeing her tear through the paper and find joy in throwing it around the room was like a dream come true for Steve.

Eddie admitted he felt like he was intruding for some of it, but Steve quickly reminded him that he was the first person she toddled over to with her new set of princess books and said “Ed, read.”

She sat in his lap right then, even though she still had quite a few presents to open, and he read every single book to her, making her giggle with his high-pitched voices for the princesses and silly accent for the prince.

By the time the kids were coming through the front door, Steve was rushing to shush them, pointing at the couch where Eddie was passed out with Mackenzie curled up against his side.

Steve was never happier than in this moment.

Until the next one, and the one after that.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hello I was wondering where is Sebek’s part on "Accidentally Sitting on Their Face". I know someone asked for it but I can’t seem to find it.

I would like to know what Deuce or Trey’s reaction in that situation.

As of now both parts of the TWST masterlist is updated

🖤🖤🖤

Accidentally Sitting On Their Face (11) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Deuce Spade

“D-deuce, a-are you sure you can hold me up long enough?”

“Yeah, no worries. I’ve got this!”

“Alright then.”

Turns out he did not have it or rather you

Because when you fell down you had a Deuce-shaped cushion snuggly holding you up

“D-deuce! I-I told you! Are you okay?!”

“I’m perfectly g-g-g-great!”

He’s walking funny with anything that reminds him of the incident miracle

He’s definitely on cloud 9

Even those he wouldn’t think twice about fighting 

Will have to wait for his feverish reminiscing to end

Trey Clover

“T-trey!I don’t think–Ah I’m slipping!”

“That’s okay, I’ve got you!”

After all, he was the one who made you go up on the counter to get the sugar

And he does catch you though

Burning up suffocating under you and the spilled sugar you’re both covered in

He doesn’t say anything when you wordlessly get up to fuss around the kitchen

Completely not noticing his pristine glasses being put on 

Guess its back to cleaning the kitchen, after he goes to the bathroom for a bit

You’re not cooking with anyone else lest you fall prey to another’s dubious schemes

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 2 - Catalyst~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: You make your way to the Hazbin Hotel and quickly realize keeping to your list and helping the sinners might be more difficult than planned.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness, cursing, fluff, eventual smut (it's coming, pun intended), actual plot, slow burn, and of course 18+, keeping these chapters shorter for easier reading

1.3k Words

Part 1 Part 2 (You're on it!) Part 3 Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.A Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

"Please Carmilla, I really don't think you understand what this hotel could mean for--"

Carmilla raises her hand to cut you off. "I have too much going on - to PREPARE for - to entertain this 'redemption hotel'. If you wish to leave my safety so be it but I will not waste my time on such ludicrous ideas." Her words were sharp and concise. She was right. With extermination day coming sooner than expected she had plans to make and orders to fill. After some silence she looks up from her desk, softening when she sees the slight hurt in your eyes.

Taking a deep breath she walks over to you, grabbing your shoulders with a light squeeze. “You’ve learned so much and are so much wiser beyond your years here. I know how much this ‘redemption arc’ means to you even if I don’t fully support or understand it myself.” Her grip tightened as she sighed, carefully choosing her next words. “I need you to realize that I won’t be able to help you…to protect you…if you choose to go to that hotel. Are you ready to close our deal over the slightest possibility that little Morningstar girl is right?” Carmilla would never admit that she took a liking to you. If anyone asked, you were just there out of convenience as you never gave her much hassle. This gentle warning was her way of saying she cared about you - though neither of you would ever say such things out loud. Rule #3 Never bring anyone too close.

The lump in your throat grew as you fought off the tears trying to pool in your eyes. She knew the answer already. Just the idea of a hotel to redeem sinners went hand in hand with what you did for the souls you collected. Helping lost souls? Who knew you shared the same hopes and dreams as the Princess of Hell itself.

“I will always be grateful for what you’ve done for me Ms. Carmine. I believe our deal is done.” A bright light flashes between you and Carmilla. The thin pink thread tying the two of you together by the wrist fades in, snaps, then fades out of existence. “Good luck out there…you’re going to need it Ms. ‘Saving Grace’.” Carmilla jabs. You share a small smile with each other before she sees you out of her office.

Walking up to the hotel you were a bundle of nerves. Not out of worry ok maybe a little but pure excitement, mentally rehearsing what you were going to say. “Hey you know that Saving Grace Overlord everyone is curious about? Welp that’s me and I’m here to help!” Rule #2 Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have. You laugh to yourself knowing damn well that isn’t the way to go. No, you’ll need to play the part of a sinner looking for redemption. But you are a sinner looking for redemption!

You shake your head at the thought. You’re here to help Lucifer’s daughter not seek your own salvation. Taking a deep breath, you make the last few strides to the font of the hotel. The window in the door was clean enough for you to catch sight of your reflection. The walk from Carmilla’s slightly disheveled your usual cleanly pressed outfit. You adjust your black button-down shirt, fixing the sleeves so they're nicely rolled to the elbow and the shirt tail is gently tucked into your slacks. Hair slicked back into a high bun - damn these fly aways, let me just ----

The front door flies open and you’re suddenly nose to nose – or rather nose to chest – with the Princess of Hell.

"Oh shit! Wasn’t expecting someone to be standing there! Hi hello -welcome!! Are you here to check in?!" she says quickly recovering from the surprise.

You spend the next few hours with Charlie on a tour. The hotel was run down but just listening to her speak so passionately made you see all the extraordinary potential. You meet the other residents - the bartender, the maid, some snake, and the...uh spider angel thing? Fuck names are hard. There was so much information flying at you, everything was blurring together. With this being your new home you were sure to get a better understanding of who's who and names. Nothing to worry yourself with tonight.

Charlie and her girlfriend - Valley? No, Maggie? - lead you to your room. "And here is your new hopefully temporary home! Let us know if you need anything." Charlie wraps you into a hug that knocks the breath out of you. "Thanks so much" is about all you can get out as you try to regain the air you lost. You place your hand on the doorknob when a high pitch ringing and static hit your ears. Freezing in place you try to pinpoint where the noise is coming from. Something (or someone) has materialized behind you with a familiar voice booming through the hall -

"Ahhh a new resident. Apologies I wasn't available for the initial introductions. The name’s Alastor, quite the pleasure!"

In turning abruptly to face the demon you not so gracefully fall against your door. Jesus H Christ – Get your shit together!

"No need to be so jumpy here my dear. This hotel is protected QUITE well if I do say so myself. You don't have to worry about any dangerous sinners here." There’s that unhinged smile. It registers that this is the same charming Overlord who tried to stare into your soul from the last meeting. Ironic how such ominous creature is trying to convince you of safety.

Does he recognize me? He has such a way of looking right into my --- “Ah yes...sorry! Bad habit from being in the streets for so long. Nice to meet you, Alastor. I'm [Y/N]. Are you also here for redemption?" You already knew the answer but best to play stupid. No use in stirring suspicion less than a day into your stay.

"Oh my no. I'm just here for my own amusement and to help Charlie as needed." He hummed shifting his (is that a microphone?) cane from one hand to the other. The static continued in your ears as his half-lidded eyes studied your face. You were far from intimidated, but it was clear he was hiding more power than you initially thought.

"Well, that's very kind of you and it has been such a delight, but it is getting late. I will see you around Mr. Alastor." The sooner this transaction is over, the better. His eyes were starting to bore into you as if he was trying to find any possible flaw he could prey on.

He breaks his gaze to lean into your ear, lips practically grazing your skin. His ever so subtle cologne floods your senses, making little butterflies form in your stomach. Of course such a devious man would be so enticing. Trying not to flinch, you hold your ground. You feared no one or so you told yourself. Rule #4 Never let your weaknesses show.

“Yes, you will be seeing quite a bit of me my dear. And please....just Alastor……for now." he purred into your ear before melting into a shadow - gone as quickly as he appeared. A cool breeze taking over where his hot breath was.

You finally released the air you didn’t realize you were holding in as the static faded from your ears. Quickly getting inside your room you melt to your knees as your head whirls. What the fuck was that about? Was I ATTRACTED to that? Six years in hell and a DEMON OVERLORD makes me weak? That cannot happen again.

Things may be a lot harder than expected with Alastor making his mark on the hotel, but you’re not going to let him stop you. Rule #1 Never trust another Overlord.

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride!!! I would die for a continuation of lady mo please!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39

Wei Wuxian is keeping himself upright through sheer force of will and his utter refusal to let Lan Zhan be right about anything.

He has been sort of exhausted lately, but he’s been training himself into the ground and keeping to ridiculous Lan morning routines and he has a curse mark slowly killing him, so he thinks he’s entitled. He would have made it to the Jin tower just fine if he hadn’t run into Song Lan and had to hunt down a town fierce corpses and fight Xue Yang. That alone would leave most people exhausted, so he has a perfectly good excuse for his vision to be going fuzzy on the edges.

Except he’d literally rather fall off his sword and snap his neck then admit that. He can’t even let that happen, because A-Qing is flying on his sword with him, and she’s not even a cultivator. Her bones will break a lot easier than his will.

He’s not even injured. Or, well, not any injuries that count. He once fought off fierce corpses right after having his core ripped out, being tortured, and dropped from a height high enough to kill. Some bruises and cuts are nothing, and they don’t feel like anything now. Maybe he should have let Xue Yang stab him a couple of times. It would have made everything more believable and also would have let him nap with his dignity intact.

They land back at the inn and the rest of the Lans look extremely relieved and then confused when they see their newest additions. Except for Jin Guangyao, who only shows that he’s noticed them by raising a single eyebrow and looking to him immediately.

Jin Guangyao is a stone cold bitch that’s too smart for anyone’s own good. Wei Wuxian sort of regrets that they’d never had any reason to really get to know one another during the war. Surely Jin Guangyao could have steered him away from some of his worse decisions.

“We’re bringing guests,” he announces to all of them, jumping to the ground and nudging A-Qing to do the same with a guiding hand on her hip. “Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen, who I assume you all already know. And A-Qing. They’ve had a rough time and we’re going to be very nice to them.” He looks over to Lan Xichen. “I guess it’s a good thing that you brought the carriage. They can ride in there the rest of the way.”

The awkward silence is broken by Jin Guangyao saying, “Madame Jin is not fond of accommodating extra guests.”

Madame Jin is going to make Jin Guangyao deal with it because she’s petty that way. Apparently Jin Zixuan plays interference as much as he can, but considering he’s no longer fighting fit and the perfect heir he once was, his ability to influence his mother has been similarly reduced.

A politician down to her core. Wei Wuxian might be able to admire it if it didn’t make him hate her so much.

“I’m not fond of Madame Jin, so I’m sure it even outs,” he says carelessly.

Some of the Lan go to the effort to pretend to be appalled but most of them seem to have no problem agreeing, regardless of all the rules of propriety and respecting one’s elders that he’s breaking. People take their cue from their leaders and Lan Xichen is straight up just pretending he didn’t say that, probably because he agrees.

He’s treated to the rare sight of Jin Guangyao’s dimples. “Can you at least pretend not to be a menace? I can only put out so many fires at once.”

“I can pretend,” he agrees and then A-Qing is faking a coughing fit to hide her giggles.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - It's 2024 & I'm talking about TayNew... really?

(They pretty much told us all to sit down and shut tf up, 'cause they got this. AND THEY DO.)

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Feb 2024 Wk 3

Ongoing Series - Thai

Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube grey) ep 9 of 12 - I broke. In my defense, it was Monday, I needed comfort, and TayNew were right tf there. Ya know what? They are great in this show. It's a great adaptation. I might like it more than the JBL live action. You know why? Really, honestly WHY...?

That was a PHENOMENAL KISS. Those boys did Thailand fucking proud. They did fandom a solid. Thank you OGs for reminding us how it's done. I was getting used to SloppyHot. And SloppyHot has its place, but that TayNew rooftop kiss was a top tear class act. It was tender and sweet and respectful and joyful. It was eye work and breath work and years of practice. How very far BL has come while still staying so much the same. TayNew - I salute you!

(Read all about distribution issues here.)

The Sign (Sat YT) ep 12fin - we waiting, I guess? Bah.

Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 11 of 12 - The recipe book thing was so damn cute and I love a claiming. YOU KNOW I LOVE A CLAIMING!

In fact, I love OffGun.

I love food based BL.

I adored seeing a reboot of "the infamous dragging". 

But I don’t love anything else about this show. Sigh.

1000 Years Old ep 1 of 12 - Finally we get our gay vampire BL from Feel Good Bangkok. Stars Shane (My Engineer) and fresh face Opal, directed by Champ (2gether). It’s kind of odd but enjoyable. A group of teen UFO seekers find a vampire instead. Opal looks a bit like a mix between Newnu + Leo (VIXX) - so cute + edge. Also, nice to see Shane again on our screens after so long. 

Finally, I like the subtle (and sometimes not subtle) presence of ghosts permeating this show. Do the friends know she's there? Do they know she's dead? Is the existence of paranormal accepted but not that of aliens? Or are the two combined? Is this lazy writing or just fun world building? Who cares! It's enjoyable.

For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 12fin - the nail painting bit was very cutie queers and I've not seen it done in BL before, so that was nice. For some reason captions never dropped for me on this last episode, but it didn’t really matter. Not much happened and I understood everything anyway.

Quick pitch?

From the people who brought us Unforgotten Night based on a y-novel, about a young man nursing a heartbreak who has a one-night stand, but the other boy didn't want it to end. This turned out to be a pulp that wasn’t half as good as it should have been and even less memorable, but not terrible. 5/10 DON'T BOTHER unless you're v bored

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 3 of 12 - Oh it is such a pulp: the acting is not good and the script is terrible. Of course, I’m mildly enjoying it. Very good dream kissing. There's something appealing about these main characters - I think it's the moot crushes. We rarely get to see that. These days everything feels very one sided, this... isn't.

A Secretly Love (Thai WeTV) - Khonprot, a third-year hazer of the engineering faculty, has a secret crush on Pluem, a tsundere fourth-year head hazer. Over the years, he's seen Pluem cycle through girlfriends. Recently, after a public breakup, however, Khonprot thinks maybe a boy has a chance.

I tried but I can't get into my WeTV account anymore and I'm way too lazy to figure it out. I'll catch it grey if I can, since I've rebooted the bootlegging side of my BL life for Cherry Magic anyway.

So this show may stay in this section, or I may bump it down to "it's airing but..."

If anyone is watching it, let me know if it's good?

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Love For Love's Sake (Korea Weds iQIYI) 7-8fin - Ugh it was GREAT, despite some pretty telling flaws. I ended up feeling like some of the filming was amateurish (very overworked low angles - director's first feature, I assume), and the narrative is a little disjoined and on the nose, AND the subs are clumsy (which I don't expect from KBL) BUT I still loved it. (FYI - I wouldn't be so harsh on a BL for this kinda thing except one from Korea.)

Quick pitch:

This isekai-based KBL is about a man who must win a game by convincing a reserved teen outcast to fall in love with him. Of course, that teen represents himself and his own unhappiness. Like many queer narratives, this show is actually about self worth, trust, and found family, and it is VERY on the nose. But I don’t expect subtlety from my BL and I enjoyed it's truly lovely redemption arc and earnest performances. While I found the narrative a touch disjointed with overworked filming angles and poorer than average captions, this is certainly much better than early KBL in terms of consistency of tone, script, and immersion. Highly rewatchable and charming, which counts for a lot. 9/10

Trigger warning for suicide depicted.

Perfect Propose (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - Gosh, it’s so lovely. But I do just constantly want to give them both hugs. 

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 4 of 10 - Oh look, Taiwan has created yet another BL where I spend most of the time watching it grinning like an idiot. Surprise surprise. The pet name thing was fucking adorable. Also Taiwan once more proving they come by their "kings of kissing" title honestly. I mean to say. In a week of good kisses this one was just... WOW.

On the other hand, some of the underpinning themes are starting to v worry me (ownership, consent, age), and we only just got started, and I don't trust this production company so... I have concerns.

But also... YAY KISSES!

(I'm made of weak moral fiber.)

Although I Love You and You AKA Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 10 - Like many other shows on this list. I just enjoy it the most when the two leads are on screen together. So this episode was kind of lacking because they were apart for most of it. I also am starting to agree with the tone of the plot, that maybe they ARE better off as friends not lovers. (And I'm sure I'm not supposed to want that.) Oh Japan, must you?

My Strawberry Film (Japan Gaga) ep 1 of 8 - Oh it’s good. In the arthouse lane so don’t expect sweetness & light or an HEA. If there’s no cartoon aspect to a JBL, there’s usually no joy. But it is certainly good. Teens uncover some old film and a mystery around a pretty girl. The background music is wildly annoying (and rarely in the background). 

It's Done

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - will binge when I have any spare time. 2024 is crazy busy for me so far.

The Servant and the Young Master - from Vietnam, it's on YouTube. I will give it a try when I have a window of time.

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) - A Burmese BL? @heretherebedork vouched for it, so I will give it a watch.

7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) - Gave me Luminous Solution vibes have decided not to watch.

It's Airing But...

Dead Friend Forever (Thai iQIYI) - rumors are it's interesting. I'm waiting to know how it ends.

Ossans Love Season 2 (Japan Gaga) - 5 years later, will anything have changed? This is Japan so… probubly not. I won't be watching this. I disliked Season one and actively hated the follow ups. No thank you.

Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. I DNFed this at ep 5. Frankly I'm impressed with myself for getting that far.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - dropped it at ep 4.

Next Week Looks Like This:

2/24 Unknown (Taiwan Youku) 12 eps - Older brother tough guy breadwinner looks after his sister and defacto adopted little brother. Little bother falls in love with him and is sent away after a stolen kiss. But when he comes back…

Sam Lin has a cameo so even if I wasn't already excited, I'm in. We should be on our guard though, Taiwan will occasionally go edgy, dark, and sad... this could go there.

One assumes GMMTV is filling in the BL time slot with something queer on their YT Channel after Cooking Crush ends, they gonna lose subs if they don't. But I've not been paying attention to the chatter so I don't know which of their line-up it will be. I think G4 are filming/off radar now, and Earth is in that het noona thing? Plus they gotta sort out the IP for MIx-Up and Ossen. So it won't be one of the announced adaptations. They'll hold My Golden Blood for the high season, so I think it'll be one of the lesser known lead-outs. Wandee or Only Boo maybe? But they only just started filming those. Are we getting our long awaited GL? Anything else left from 2023 that I forgot about?

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Two crawling kisses from Thailand this week. Now this is a fetish I didn't know I had. Turns out, we love this one! (*waves hand in air* I speak for all of us now.)

Cooking Crush

City of Stars

Possibly the best tsundere to cinnamon roll pivot we've had in a long time.

Also the best asshole to KING pivot. Could we have a whole drama staring this character now? Please?

And finally our sunshine learning to love himself.

SIGH. what a lovely show.

And a good SMILEY kiss from a KBL.

And then some cute cuddles? Korea is spoiling me these days. I'm catching expectations now. What's next? Japan learns to kiss in their light BLs? Ha! I kill me.

(All Love for Love's Sake).

(Last week)