#do you ever wake up from a huge nap and feel like this

[lemonbrows]

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[les4elliewilliams]

warning: reblogging this post summons her at 3am.

18+ ⋮ desperately need a feralwife!ellie who:

౨ৎ records you riding her without asking, saves it in a folder on her desktop named taxes and watches it every time she’s left alone with nothing but her hand to keep her pussy company, the filthy video reflecting on her too-big, nerdy glasses.

౨ৎ pulls you into her lap during dinner just so she can innocently grind her thigh up into you and call you dramatic when a soft mhph slips out.

౨ৎ asks if you’re ovulating just to get on her knees and say she can “smell it,” and she can—this fuckin’ horndog swears she can taste it in your sweat, savour it in the air, and see it in the sway of your hips.

౨ৎ moans your name into your pillow when she humps it on days you’re too tired to fuck—cause she’d never dare push you into anything you don’t feel like doing. she’ll even give you a five-star massage and put you to sleep. either way, she always leaves a sticky patch on your side of the bed like a dog in heat marking territory.

౨ৎ gets a rush from public stuff. like letting her fingers brush the inside of your thigh under the dinner table at family events, then gaslighting you right after. “what a snowflake, i wasn’t even doin’ anything.”

౨ৎ manifests sex by walking around the house with a white, see-through tank top and Calvin Klein boxers. ngghhh.

౨ৎ masturbates to your voice notes when you’re at work—casual, boring updates about what you’ve eaten or done—and she’s fingering herself to your laugh like it’s the best porn she’s ever witnessed. obsessed much? nah. she calls it devotion. same goes for the sound of your voice during arguments, she replays voice memos where you’re yelling at her and imagining you doing it naked. she needs you mean. it’s a necessity, not a want.

౨ৎ presses her strap into your ass while folding laundry together, completely deadpan, like she’s not wearing that thing just to get you dripping. “oops. my bad.”

౨ৎ fucks you in front of the huge mirror hanging in your bedroom so she can see your face falling apart in real time, pulling your hair while hissing, “look at you, look at what i do to you,” and she pounds you like she’s trying to milk your womb and get you pregnant. she cruelly slows down when you’re about to cum, “i know, i know baby—it’s too much, but you’re takin’ it so good,” and won’t stop until your legs shake. keeps going even when you sob, pressing apologetic kisses to your neck and the blade of your shoulder. “one more, i know you’ve got one more in you, for me, c’mon.”

౨ৎ moans your name while she comes in her boxers from dry humping your soaked pussy, shaking like an electrocuted virgin, “fuckfuckfuck baby, i’m gonna cum.” #bringdryhumpingback

౨ৎ gets emotionally and spiritually hard off watching you sleep. not in a romantic way either. she just stares at your parted lips, your shirt riding up, and whispers filthy things under her breath like a creep. and when you do catch her, she doesn’t even look ashamed.

౨ৎ slips her thigh between yours while you’re sleeping, just to keep you open. not even trying anything… unless you move in your sleep.

౨ৎ plays with the hem of your panties when you’re knocked out, fingertips ghosting the lacy edges. sometimes even tucks her hand under your waistband and falls asleep like that.

౨ৎ sleeptalks filth, whimpering your name. “just a taste, babe, please…” then wakes up with her boxers wet and pretends not to remember what the dream was about... even after orgasming three times in her sleep.

౨ৎ grinds in her sleep, needy little humps against the fat of your ass with her arm locked around your waist.

౨ৎ asks if she can nap between your legs, then accidentally falls asleep face-first against your pussy, arms slung around your thighs like you’re some kind of personal mattress.

౨ৎ cries if you don’t let her eat you out when you’re on your period, tells you she’s just spiritually cleansing you from the inside out and that “real love is messy.”

౨ৎ watches old videos of you gagging around her strap when you’re not home, whispering “that’s my fuckin’ wife” while she jerks herself to tears. in her defence, she’s a proud wife.

౨ৎ offers to shave your pussy for you but keeps “accidentally” bumping her knuckles against your clit between passes. “oops,” she drawls, fingers already prying your lips open.

౨ৎ tucks her strap into her boxers before bed, praying you’ll climb on and use her while she’s still asleep.

౨ৎ gets lowkey jealous of your vibrator, calls it names under her breath, and once threw it across the room because it made you come faster than she did (she set a timer). later apologized. to you, not the vibrator.

౨ৎ refuses to wash her face after you sit on it.

౨ৎ makes you sign odd contracts before sex as a joke, but they’re full of “i allow ellie to smell my armpits as much as she wants” and “ellie owns my socks now.”

౨ৎ remembers what you wore on your first date, and gets genuinely mad if you ever try to throw it away.

౨ৎ has an entire notes app filled with your old texts. every compliment you’ve ever given her, she’s written down and reads them back when her brain starts lying again. she even keeps little stolen moments trapped in polaroids of you, tucked in corners of the house.

౨ৎ makes sims of the two of you, builds fake lives, and gets jealous if sim-you flirts with npcs.

౨ৎ gets genuinely upset when you don’t tag her in italian brainrot reels or spam her with random tiktoks. “so you got a side chick, huh?”

౨ৎ says “i would’ve loved you in every lifetime,” with such passion it feels like a threat. “if your soul was reincarnated into a cockroach, i’d still marry you.”

౨ৎ shuts down for ten full minutes when you say someone else is funny, then tries to make you laugh harder just to “win” you back. when it doesn’t work, she sits there questioning everything she’s ever said to you.

౨ৎ claims she wants to be buried next to you when the day comes, and already has a google doc planning it. she showed it to you once at 2am and cried when you laughed.

౨ৎ keeps the tag from the first hoodie you ever bought her, tucked in her wallet like a family heirloom.

౨ৎ snoops through your childhood photo albums not to judge you, but to fall deeper in love with the little version of you she never got to meet :( 

౨ৎ refuses to delete your old voicemails, even if they’re just about picking up milk. she has them backed up on a usb, just in case.

౨ৎ stalks your spotify activity. you listen to one breakup song and she’s immediately texting, “you okay?” all concerned like she didn’t just have a mini mental breakdown five minutes before sending that.

౨ৎ laminated screenshots of your first convo and hid them in her guitar case. when you laughed, she deadass called you toxic and didn’t speak to you until you apologized.

౨ৎ has a secret scrapbook of you, but is too shy to show you because it’s full of stolen receipts, screenshots, and the wrapper from the first snack you shared.

౨ৎ gets real quiet real fast every time you say “i need space.” (even if you just mean the couch.) her poor brain goes straight to divorce → abandonment → enemy arc unlocked.

౨ৎ asks every six months if you’d still love her if she lost all her limbs, and takes your answer very seriously.

౨ৎ tugs on your necklace while you’re talking, dragging you closer mid-sentence just to kiss you quiet, “you talk too pretty to ignore.”

౨ৎ cups your tits from under your shirt while you’re watching tv, just to keep her palms full and use them as stress balls.

౨ৎ gets pouty if you roll away from her mid-sleep, grumbling “rude” under her breath and spoons you aggressively out of spite. 

౨ৎ pretends to be asleep just to see if you’ll touch her, and if you do brush her hair or stroke her side, she’s smiling into the pillow like a pathetic loser.

౨ৎ starts overthinking the moment you seem distant, even if it’s just work stress. she spirals in silence, convinced she’s done something wrong, and won’t say anything until you pry it out of her. “you’re not bored of me, right?”

౨ৎ compares herself to every girl you follow, scrolling through their pages late at night with a pit in her stomach, wondering if they’re more your type than she is. spoiler: they’re not.

౨ৎ pulls away when she’s insecure, even though she craves your touch more than anything. she goes cold, starts sleeping on the edge of the bed until you notice (you always notice). she doesn’t ask for reassurance right away, but instead she drops weird hints “you don’t have to stay with me, you know,” or “if you ever wanted someone else, i’d get it.”

౨ৎ packs your lunch with dumb sticky notes saying “eat this or i’ll cry.”

౨ৎ used to call you her wife even before she proposed, and even now, years later, she still asks if you wanna grow old together, adding a little scared “if that’s okay” at the end that breaks your heart all over again.

[meiieiri]

when do we get to see megumi in your new series ^3^

𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ! [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: “you really are your mother’s son,” toji grumbles to megumi as the little brat yet again refuses another kiss from him.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | art: @/amulin67 on twt/ig | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: n/a | a/n: finally welcoming megumi to this series, yay! 💓💞

“I’m just gonna go nap for a bit. Promise me you’ll wake me up if something happens. But either way, his bottle is over there, just heat it up when he gets hungry and you know where his diapers are—“

You are interrupted by a sweet kiss that still manages to catch you off guard ‘till this day.

“I wasn’t done, you know.” You place your hands on your hips, shooting him a warning glance. “And don’t you go tossing him too high. Need I remind you, our apartment has a literal ceiling fan—“

“—You worry too much,” Toji cuts you off again with another kiss. “Not gonna lie though, seeing you all worked up like that is kinda turning me on.”

“You’re horrible,” you conclude. Honestly, at this point, almost anything and everything you do can be classified as a thirst trap for Toji. You blush when Toji inches closer, his hips pressed against yours, a smirk plastered on his face when he sneakily squeezes your ass causing you to yelp. “Ah! Toji!” you swat his hand away, burying your blushing face in his chest.

Chuckling at you, he plants a soft kiss on your temple as he pulls away. “Alright, mama, go get some rest. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Thank you.”

No one ever told you that motherhood would be so stressful. Which is why you’re so blessed to have a supportive husband who may have started out a little awkward with caring for your newborn son but gradually became a natural with this whole fatherhood business as time went by. And that’s mostly because when Megumi arrived in this world at half past two in the afternoon of December 22 with nothing more but a small hiccup as he slipped into his papa’s waiting arms, Toji fell in love. And you don’t pretend to not know why. Because whenever you look at Megumi, your heart always just seems to melt at his pudgy rose-colored cheeks and his deep expressive green eyes that fill up with tears regardless if he’s crying or being overcome by a laughing fit whenever you pepper his tiny face with kisses.

Speaking of kisses, today’s latest fiasco is centered exactly on that: kisses.

You see, you have this habit that goes way back to when you and Toji first started dating. Toji remembers it well, you have certain moods when it comes to kisses. Sometimes, you’re the one initiating it which mostly results in Toji becoming an incoherent blushing mess, or most times, Toji gets the party started by slowly kissing up your neck, his breath hot on your earlobe as he presses his hips against yours while you slept fitfully, your hushed dulcet whines ringing in his ear as your lips instinctively find each other. Fun fact: that’s exactly how Megumi came to be.

But there are times too, when you were just not having it and you’d gently nudge Toji’s face away when he tries to kiss you.

It was a typical afternoon. Toji didn’t have work that day which was a huge relief for him because you’ve been suffering from dizziness and lower back pain all day. And being the helicopter partner and soon-to-be papa that he is, Toji keeps a close eye on you as you nap the afternoon away on the couch. He smiles softly as he sees you instinctively put a protective hand over your belly whenever you’d feel the slightest movements from the baby.

“Shhh, you’re alright,” he’d whisper to you as you slept, combing his fingers through your hair, a permanent worried frown on his face when a whimper falling from your pursed lips as the baby kicks you again. “It’s just the overgrown parasite fidgeting around.”

“Don’t call him that.” You brush his hand away, your eyebrows knitting in discomfort.

Toji chuckles, going to press a kiss to your soft lips only for you to place your entire palm on his face, applying gentle force to pry him away. “I mean, what is he then? Other than this thing that competes for your nutrients? He’s—“

“—Our baby boy.”

“—An overgrown parasite.”

Fuming at his words, you decide to hit back with a quick retort of your own. “Yeah? It really does take one to know one, huh?”

“What a cute comeback but maybe not as cute as you,” Toji smirks, his hand gently removing your smaller one from his face, his lips puckered up as he leans in. Teasingly, you place a hand over your lips, still refusing to indulge him with his much-craved kisses. “Come on, I just want one sloppy one~”

“No!” Your laughter-filled voice comes out muffled against your palm.

“Mm, yes,” Toji teases. “Yes. Come on, baby, just one.”

“You and I both know it’s never just one.”

Of course. Why else would you be in this situation if Toji knew how to spell the words: self and control? Still, it’s not like the two of you were complaining. After all, the bond you and Toji share is an unbreakable one that’s only been strengthened by time and the many trials you’ve survived together. And now, the arrival of the very product of your love is only a hair’s breath away. Toji rests his chin on top of your head, plopping down next to you and spooning you from behind. “Guilty as charged.”

And unfortunately, it seemed your son had inherited that troublesome quirk of yours and it’s beginning to break Toji’s infuriated heart because whenever he tries to give Megumi a kiss…

“Mmph—“

There it was.

Toji’s eyes shot open, grimacing as Megumi turns his head away, his eyes trained stubbornly on his dog plushie, and his chubby hands pushing his poor papa’s chin away with all the might a six-month-old like him could muster. And to top things off, he must be imagining things because newborns surely couldn’t scowl right? Their tiny little brains couldn’t possibly have enough electrical energy to charge a snow globe much less, learn how to hate certain people’s kisses.

“You little shit—“

Sure enough, the tiny little baby seems gravely unamused, his eyebrows are knitted, the corner of his lips curled into a disappointed frown as if to say: Go kiss someone else, you even bigger shit.

Toji mirrors the unfriendly scowl on his son’s face, noting how Megumi seems to be glaring at him. Oh, okay. The brat ain’t messing around, his eyes twitches but somehow, Toji is also a picture of a proud father. At least the little shit’s got spunk. And he wonders momentarily who he should blame for that.

Definitely not him, that’s for sure.

Toji doesn’t recall the last time he’s ever had the comforts of a peace like this one. Actually, this might just be the first time that Toji knew what that word meant: “peace”. A freedom from disturbance; tranquility, as per the Merriam Webster Dictionary. But Toji has a better definition for peace: you and Megumi.

But…

“I meant what I said to your mother though,” Toji engages in a one-way conversation with his son. He won’t recall any of this, but it didn’t hurt for Toji to be candid about his feelings every now and then especially when it came to this little one that came accidentally into your lives but brightened it up nonetheless. “The two of you would be better off — maybe even happier — with someone else.” He presses his thumb against Megumi’s cheek. “It’s what you two deserve.”

He’s been gone close to a whole day now and you were probably beginning to worry. Out of all the shitty things Toji has done, this, by far, has to be the shittiest. Standing outside a pachinko den, his back pressed against the wall, and his hand absentmindedly playing with the tokens he just bought. When he left the apartment that day, you knew that could very well be the last time you ever see him. Types like him aren’t keen on the whole picket fence idea of settling down.

“I’m heading out today.”

Your blood runs cold when Toji steps into the kitchen to inform you of his plans. You don’t even bother to look at him, your gaze simply settled on the positive pregnancy test on the table. The right thing to do was to stay, he should have held you in his arms and tell you that everything’s going to be okay not plant seeds of doubt in your mind by taking off and running away like a coward.

But for once, Toji was scared.

He had no business becoming a father when he’s lived in a dysfunctional household for majority of his life. What good would he even impart to his child? His pathetic existence has been a picture of disorder that was only recently resolved when you came into the picture. Well, if he were being completely honest, he still hasn’t figured things out quite as well yet. And as a father, that could be catastrophic for a child that required stability if nothing else.

Frowning, Toji leaves the pachinko den, chucking the tokens in the trash. It was far too early in the day to be hanging around shady places like these anyway. He wanders the streets for a good while, his hands buried in his jacket’s pockets as his mind swirls with thoughts about the all too terrifying future.

A pang of guilt strikes his heart and he wonders what you’re doing now. You must still be in the kitchen, your face buried in your hands as you try to think of something. You were probably assuming he wasn’t coming back. After all, you did say: “I don’t wanna pressure you into staying, Toji. You deserve to live your life the way you want it.”

A life without you? Sounds pretty miserable.

Toji must have been walking on autopilot because for some reason, he unknowingly finds himself in front of a bank. Mizuho Bank, Toji reads the sign, his eyes flicking over to one of the posters plastered on the window about opening a savings account.

He looks at the promotional material, transfixed at the picture of a family of four donning on those typical wide stupid grins in ads, the father is holding a hundred yen bill and is seen dropping it into a piggy bank that was filled with both cash and words like: health insurance, family vacation, utility bills, rent, tax, school, and…happiness.

…

…

…

Toji returns to the apartment at around eight in the evening after making a quick stop at the supermarket and the pharmacy. He finds you asleep on the couch, your cheeks stained with dry tears. He crouches on the edge of the couch, worriedly taking in your appearance. You’ve been crying. “Hey…hey, wake up,” he gently shakes you awake and your tired eyes flutter open. “Got you something.”

He holds out a shopping bag, chock full of fresh produce, and from the pharmacy, some camphor oil to relieve your symptoms and those folate supplements the attending pharmacist kept yapping about.

“You didn’t leave,” you said, bewildered. “I thought you—“

“—You thought wrong,” Toji says firmly. He pulls out something from his back pocket and you stare at him, perplexed.

“A bank passbook?” You open it to see that Toji had just made his first deposit amounting to fifty thousand yen earlier today. “You opened a savings account?”

Toji nods, looking a little proud of himself. “Yeah,” he tries to play it off with a shrug of his shoulders. “Every week, we’ll be depositing fifteen thousand yen in that thing. Ten thousand for your maternity needs, and five for the little brat’s schooling one day.”

Tears spring to your eyes upon realizing that Toji was here to stay. “You mean you’re—?” You are cut off by a warm kiss on your lips, and you place a hand over Toji’s chest, your fingertips gripping the fabric of his shirt as his lips move against yours. He pulls away after a while.

“Gonna spite the hell out of the Zenin clan and send my brat to the most expensive preschool in Tokyo? Yes, I am.”

Toji sighs, his thumb rubbing across Megumi’s chubby cheek. “But maybe — just maybe — hear me out and don’t you give me another glare.” Megumi’s not gonna remember any of this. After all, memories begin when the brain can fully register speech. But Toji felt the need to say this so, subconsciously, his son will understand just how much he’s done and he’s willing to do for the both of you.

“…Maybe I deserve the two of you too, you know.”

Megumi looks up at his father, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. Toji sticks his tongue out at the little one causing the latter to…hiccup? Nah, Toji was sure that was a giggle.

Smirking, Toji leans down to give his son a kiss, thinking he’s patched things up between them now only for Megumi to curl up again, his feet and hands resisting against Toji, his lip downturned in effort as he pushes him away yet again. Conceding, Toji grumbles, rubbing the spot where Megumi roughly pushed him away.

“You really are your mother’s son.”

[cursedcanon]

Asleep

You fall asleep on them.

Characters: Gojo, Choso, Sakuna, Geto , toji , Nanami, Yuji and Megumi

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo is smug as hell about it. The moment he feels you slump against him, he immediately whips out his phone to take a picture. "Aww, my baby trusts me this much? Adorable~!" He’d probably trap you in his arms so you can’t escape, whispering nonsense about how he’s the best pillow ever. If anyone walks by, he’s grinning like an idiot. "Shh, my baby is resting on their favorite person ever!" You’d wake up to him dramatically sobbing, "You left me alone in this cruel world!" when you eventually move away.

Choso Kamo:

Choso freezes. His entire system shuts down as he stares at you, sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. His hands hover awkwardly, like, what do I do? Do I hold them? Do I move? Help? In the end, he just sits perfectly still like a statue, afraid that moving even an inch will wake you. If anyone tries to disturb your nap, they will be met with a death glare. He gently adjusts your position to make sure you’re comfortable but doesn’t dare wake you up. Deep down, he melts at how safe you must feel with him.

Ryomen Sukuna:

At first, Sukuna is offended. "You have the nerve to fall asleep on me like I’m some common pillow?" He glares at your sleeping form, arms crossed, contemplating whether he should just push you off. But then he notices how peaceful you look and tchs before letting you stay. "Hah. Pathetic human, relying on me like this…" He acts annoyed but subtly adjusts his posture to make sure you’re comfortable. If anyone dares to comment, he growls, “ Keep moving unless you want to die.”

Geto Suguru:

Geto is so soft about it. He smiles to himself, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face. "Tired, huh?" His voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, as he lets you rest. He’d probably place a protective arm around you, keeping you close while continuing whatever he was doing. If anyone comes up to him while you’re asleep, they will be met with a calm but firm, "They’re sleeping. Whatever you need can wait." Absolute boyfriend material.

Toji Fushiguro:

Toji snickers the second he realizes you’re asleep. "Damn, I must be real comfortable." He teases you even though you’re unconscious, grinning like a menace. But despite all his bravado, he doesn’t move an inch because deep down, he loves that you trust him enough to fall asleep on him. If someone comments on it, he just smirks and says, "Jealous? Too bad, this spot’s taken." He might even wrap an arm around you possessively just to prove a point.

Nanami Kento:

Nanami lets out the deepest sigh, but his expression softens when he sees you sleeping. He adjusts his posture so you don’t wake up with neck pain and simply lets you rest. If someone tries to wake you, he glares at them like they just insulted his entire existence. "Let them sleep." He continues doing whatever he was doing, secretly enjoying the quiet moment. If you drool on him, however… he will wake you up.

Itadori Yuji:

Yuji malfunctions. His entire face turns bright red, and he stiffens like a board. Oh my god. Oh my god. They’re sleeping on me. What do I do? Do I move? Do I stay? Breathe, Yuji, breathe! After a few moments of panic, he slowly relaxes, a huge, goofy grin spreading across his face. He’d probably hold your hand while you sleep, just vibing. If Megumi or Nobara see, he’ll shush them with a frantic whisper, "DON’T WAKE THEM UP!"

Fushiguro Megumi:

Megumi blushes instantly. He tries to act normal, but his ears are completely red. He clears his throat, averting his gaze, but he doesn’t push you away. In fact, if you shift in your sleep, he subtly adjusts his position so you’re more comfortable. If Gojo sees, he will never hear the end of it. "Aww, Megumi~! Look at you being all soft!" Megumi glares at him with murderous intent but doesn’t move, because deep down, he doesn’t want to wake you up.

[seokmn]

︵⠀PATERNIDADE ⠀◌Ⳋ ✧ ── even you feel overwhelmed by having to deal with motherhood, your husband will always be by your side and help you to deal with it.

pairing: seokmin x f!reader wc: 1.4k words warnings: none

ᯓ★ “care for you, you care for me”

The noise had finally quieted down, the house now filled with the hum from the fridge and the background noise coming from the TV.

With your fingers still rubbing the small figure gently, you let out a deep sigh in relief and finally let the exhaustion take over your body, your eyelids shutting down slowly as you smiled a little bit at the thought of finally having a moment of rest.

But it was too good to be true, and once you heard a thud followed by a loud cry not too long after you had decided to take a nap, you knew your plans of taking a break from your nonstop responsibility failed.

“I’m so sorry, love,” Seokmin’s face had an apologetic expression on it and his voice was calm and soft, a huge contrast from the loud and desperate cry coming from the little one in your arms. “My hands are slippery because of the hand lotion and that made my phone and keys fall. This freaking eczema… I’m so so sorry.”

Seokmin kissed the top of your head and you just nodded as you kept rocking the baby, trying to make it calm down and get back to sleep.

“Was he asleep?” Seokmin planted a kiss on the baby’s forehead and sat beside you on the couch.

“Mhm,” you took a deep breath and tried to smile, but you were too tired for that. “He’s been crying like this for hours and nothing seems to make him stop, and when he finally calmed down you came home and dropped your damn–�� you stopped. You didn’t even need to look at Seokmin to know that he had a guilty and devastated look on his face, and you hated that. Your intention was never to blame him for the baby starting to cry again, but you were overwhelmed as hell. “I’m sorry, it’s not your fault. Accidents happen… I’m just so tired, I just want to get some rest, to finally fall asleep and not worry about waking up in the middle of the night or something like that.”

“Love…” Seokmin’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“I’m fine,” you lied, more to yourself than to your husband. “Okay, I’m not fine. I just want him to stop crying and to fucking sleep!”

Seokmin’s eyes widened when he heard you cursing – something you two agreed to not do in front of the baby, changing ‘fucking’ for ‘freaking’ or similar words – and saw you breaking down, crying along with the restless baby boy in your arms. His expression softened, realizing that you were so overwhelmed and tired to the point of breaking the agreement you brought up yourself. The sight of you like that made him feel like a shitty husband, but also gave him motivation to be your rock.

“I got you..” He kissed your cheek before taking the baby in his arms.

Seokmin held the baby with its small head on his right shoulder and started to sing the song he always sang to the baby when it was still in your womb. His voice was soft and calm, but powerful and filled the whole living room, bringing a feeling of comfort and a sense of home. His singing somehow became the baby’s white noise, never failing to make it calm down and get quiet, most of the time even falling asleep.

With a hand on your son’s back and another on the side of your head, he brought your head to his left shoulder and caressed your head while still singing and paying attention to how the baby’s crying started to subside, but not your crying.

Once the baby had fallen asleep in Seokmin’s arm, he finally turned his full attention towards you. His thumb wiped away your tears and rubbed your cheekbone.

“I haven’t been the best husband and father, have I? I’m sorry, my love, you don’t deserve this. I hate to see you like this”

“Don’t say that, you are the best husband and father someone could ask for. Don’t you ever think about yourself like that,” you sniffed and looked up at him. “I’m so lucky to have you, Seokmin. I really don’t know what I would do without you. Today was just a bad day, that’s all.” Even though your voice was shaky and it sounded like you weren’t 100% serious, you meant every single word.

Ever since you met Seokmin, he never failed you, not even once. He was the funniest and thoughtful friend, the most caring and loving boyfriend, the most romantic fiancé and the most perfect husband you could’ve possibly asked for. He had always promised you unconditional love and a lot of other things, and he had always tried his best to fulfill them. No exceptions.

When you found out that you were pregnant, it was the happiest day for both of you. Didn’t matter how the pregnancy would take a toll on you, Seokmin was beside you the entire time. He didn’t wait for your belly to start to get in the way of your routine, he was already doing things for you since day one – if not even before you knew you were pregnant. He traveled to another city just to buy you the right kind of dragon fruit you were craving for; went to a 24 hour supermarket in the middle of the night to buy ingredients to cook you a chinese dish you were craving because all the chinese restaurants were closed; read every book he could possibly read about pregnancy and parenthood.

Not to talk about when you gave birth. He was there all the time, letting you smash his hand, encouraging you to keep pushing, kissing the top of your head, removing the strands of hair from your wet forehead and being very attentive to the doctor’s actions, ready to intervene if she did something she shouldn’t be doing to you or to the baby. And when you were finally home, he didn’t let you get out of the bed for any reason but going to the bathroom (and he went with you every single time, even if you assured him countless times that you were fine and could do that yourself) and didn’t even let you ask for something. If your water bottle was getting empty, he would always fill it up before you having to ask for it; he would always bring you food before you complain about being hungry; he would massage your body way before you start to feel any kind of pain or soreness; he would take care of the baby more than you, just to make sure that you get the proper rest you needed and so deserved.

So you couldn’t let that man think that he wasn’t being the best husband and the best father if his life was all about you and your baby just because he had to get back to his working routine.

“I love how your singing is his white noise. I’m gonna need you to record you singing that song for when you’re away and he starts to cry out of nowhere.”

“I love that too,” Seokmin chuckled. “I guess that singing for him every day and night worked pretty well. I just hope he doesn’t get tired of listening to the same old song every time.”

You chuckled and pecked his neck before letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding back. “I love you…”

“I love you too, my darling. Now rest, okay? You don’t have to worry anymore about anything, I’ll take care of him and you’ll take care of yourself,” he sighed and looked down at you, a smile forming on his lips. “You don’t have to deal with the burden of parenthood’s responsibilities all by yourself, I’m also his parent and I’m right here with you. We’re a team, remember?”

“Right, we’re a team…” You mumbled softly.

“From now on, I want you to promise me that you will call me as soon as you start to feel overwhelmed, can you do that for me? And don’t even try to refute me by saying that you can’t do that because of my job, ‘cause I will leave earlier and deal with my boss later. You,” he booped your nose. “And this little one are my priority and nothing else comes first.”

“I promise. If I ever feel like this again I’ll call you right away.”

“Good.” He kissed your forehead.

In that moment, you let the exhaustion win over your mind and body once again, but this time knowing that you won’t have to worry about waking up before you feel totally rested because you have Seokmin. You always had him and always will.

𖹭.ᐟ enjoyed the fic? join my taglist to know whenever i'll post another one! have a great day ;)

[temiizpalace]

☆┊I SWEAR I ONLY FELL FOR YOU ON ACCIDENT..

SUMMARY: he never meant to develop feelings for you, and seven are these overwhelming feelings doing things to him.

CHARACTERS: leona, jade, jamil

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: cursing, CRINGE, spoilers for book 3!!!

ROMANTIC, PINING

NOTES: (kind of) based off this song + flustering boys who pretend to not be flustered ever + lyrics in fic not in order

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🦁┊LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“one time you crossed my mind and i promised id be careful”

he would have never expect his feelings to be like this after your first encounter.

the hostility he held towards you, he should’ve warded you away. yet you kept coming back. talking to him all buddy buddy.. it was admirable from the eyes of others. if he would’ve known better he would think you saw him as a large house cat (you do). well guess what, he ain’t.

at the start, he thought of you as nothing but a huge nuisance and thorn in his side in this already bothersome school. but after seeing your courageous news during azul’s overblot, he’s got a newfound respect for ya.

everything was fine from then. you’d bother him occasionally, and he’d allow you to bask in his presence. what? did you expect something else? well you’re wrong. but these moments have kickstarted some brand new fantasies for our beloved prince to indulge in.

it started off normally, he’s napping peacefully as you read a book next to him, giving him an occasional glance or two before focusing on the piece of literature in your hands. as we know, dreams can range in a wide variety of things. some can be absolutely blissful, some are really random, and others are just straight up nightmares!!

now, leona had no idea where to classify this one.

he walks into his room after finishing some duties concerning the kingdoms wellbeing.. being king is no easy task. “back already? that was quick.” your voice rang in his ears as he tossed the choking royal garbs to the side, making way to curl up in your lap. “can’t stand these people..” he murmured into your stomach, making you smile. you play with his hair, making an occasional braid or two before pausing. “hmph, why’d ya stop?” you lift his chin, looking him in the eyes. “i’m helping you de-stress.” suddenly, he feels pulled closer to your face, your lips barely ghosting each other til finally—

leona sits up quickly in a sweat, startling you as he emerged from the ground. what the fuuuucckkkk was that????? “ah, leona? are you okay?” you ask, concerned as to how quick he was to wake up. usually it’d take 10 minutes to get him out of a daze! “fine.” he grunts, getting up and walking towards the mirror hall.

“uhh, where ya going?” no response. he seemed grumpy, but you had no idea why. did you do something? nahhh, probably just typical leona. ..right?

you’ve noticed he’s been avoiding you a lot more lately. he will not respond when you say hi to him in the halls, will just up and leave if you see him in the botanical gardens, and will walk in the opposite direction of you just so you don’t have to cross paths.

now you’re concerned. was he mad at you? to put it simply, yes and no. yes because why are you occurring in his dreams???? are you crazy???? smh. get out. he’s the one dreaming but ok

yet no because, he’s no fool. he knows when he’s in love and unfortunately for him, this is love. you don’t understand how much he’s tossing and turning in his room because literally every gap in his head is filled up with thoughts of you, how much this aggravates him because he can’t get adequate amounts of sleep anymore. your fault!!!

he wanted to avoid you like the plague for at least a month to let these feelings wash over, but to no avail. someone just kill him and bury the body he’s hopeless. he cannot wait to be found six feet underground because feeling like this for a magicless human was the last thing he wanted.

that’s it, he’s never gonna tell ya. ever. just him and his thoughts. yep. mhm. yeah.. you’d look really nice in formal attire—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

he wants to scream but the best he can do is make a cringing face. how the hell do you make him so sappy??? this love stuff stinks… how could you do this to him?

🐬┊JADE LEECH

“one spark, you jump my heart and i feel it beating faster. yeah, it’s too late, im not ashamed.”

ah, love. something jade believed he’d never experience.

from the moment his eyes met yours, he’s always felt a twisting feeling in his chest. how peculiar.. to be fair, from afar you were quite bland to him. just another pawn and source of intel.

but then word began to get out you stopped two overblots, catching his interest. really? a magicless human? now he’s just dying to meet you.. and thank the seven he did. you had him the moment you spoke, your voice causing his heartbeat to speed up rapidly.

after azul’s overblot, though? jade is nothing but head over heels for you. without shame. he’s practically glued to your side, walking you to and from classes almost every day without fail, somehow always being your waiter whenever you ate at the mostro lounge, always having a hand on your back or shoulder.. huh.

it’s clear to anyone with half a brain that the leech twin definitely saw you more than merchandise, making them even more afraid to speak with you! whenever you were jade was like 2 feet behind.

only recently have you started to notice this. so, you’ll do what any normal person would do. ask him about it!

“hey, jade.” the eel-mer looks at you, an eyebrow raised with a polite smile. “is something the matter, prefect?” he asks, his demeanor the same as ever. “just wondering, but why’re you always around me? im not annoyed or anything! just.. just curious.” you stated quite bluntly, catching the boy off guard.

you could’ve sworn you saw him freeze with eyes wide, but the ability he has to rebuild his facade was impeccable. he pretends to think about it holding his chin before chuckling. “i suppose.. i just enjoy your company.” he smiles as you suddenly feel like an arrow was shot riiigghhttt through your heart.

“haha, really?” you laugh nervously, feeling the heat in your face flush to your cheeks as he stared you down with glee. before jade was able to respond, he was cut off by the sudden sincerity in your voice. “i enjoy your company too, jade.” you smile back at him, a sudden awkward silence falling before you.

“a-anyway, this is my class! gotta go! bye!” running inside the classroom, you try to hide the very obvious warmth in your face with your hands. THAT WAS SO CRINGE. IM FUCKED IM FUCKED IM FUCKED IM FUCKED. AAAGAGAGBABABAHAHAHAHAHA

this moment is going to haunt you for the rest of your life, you just know it. while you were dealing with the repercussions of the exchange, jade was in absolute heaven right now. his heartbeat was at an all time high, feeling nothing but sheer joy. falling for you was never his intention, but thank the seven he did.

the day passes by swiftly, nothing too out of the ordinary. as jade walks back to his dorm room, he flops onto his mattress face first into the pillows. an annoyed floyd looks at him with a disgusted expression, wishing this didn’t happen almost every day.

“yer so sappy, yknow that jade?” he grumbles, tossing a pillow at him with force. jade didnt care. it was worth it. all of it was worth it. falling in love with you was the best accident he’s ever made.

🐍┊JAMIL VIPER

“i’ll never see it coming but i know we’ll crash, cause when we’re with each other, yeah, we move too fast.”

kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill hi

those were the thoughts racing through jamil’s mind as you somehow convinced him to ride the magic carpet with you. what was he thinking??? he knows something is going to go terribly wrong whenever he’s with you.

not because of you (he hopes), but because of him! he’s a man who’s very meticulous about his work, making sure it’s done to absolute perfection. now, add you into the mix. it throws him horribly off.

when jamil first met you, he didn’t think much of it. you were a magicless human from another world. impressive that may be, that’s all you are. no major threat to kalim, so he’ll leave you be. then came the overblots.. you seemed more valuable than he originally thought.

then came his overblot. in all honesty, he hated you after that. or he thought he did. he always felt this burning sensation in his chest and this inexplainable image of you in his head nagging at him at any free chance he got! then came the scenarios.. domestic moments like brushing his hair, waking up next to each other, cooking meals for each other..

then he realized he fell into the deep end and fell in love with you. shit.

you treated him with such kindness! how didn’t he fall in love with you?? everything’s making his head hurt. the world must be upside down.

hearing kalim sing constant praise was nothing out of the ordinary, something he’s already grown used to and learned to despise. you on the other hand, your compliments send him to different universes. he swear fireworks get lit whenever you open your mouth and just explode all around him.

jamil’s behavior around you was a fairly noticeable difference to those close with him. he stuttered over his words, was a bit more expressive, and had a specific tone in his voice that seemed to be reserved for you. however, the most notable difference that almost anyone can see was the fact that THE jamil viper made a lot more accidents.

he seemed to embarrass himself every time he’s with you, but thank god you just shrug it off like nothing. screwing up was not something jamil EVER did before.. why must you ruin him like this? and these moments seem to just speed by, making it all seem like one huge fever dream that he just happens to remember. he hates it!

now, back to the present moment. he watches you sit onto the magic carpet, feeling the cold breeze in your hair due to the fact scarabia is much chillier during the night. he stares at you from the balcony, seeing as you turned back to smile at him. “you coming” you ask, watching him hesitate. “m-maybe i shouldn’t.. i must tend to kalim and—“

“do you trust me?” you ask, holding your hand out to him. he looks at you, taken aback by your sudden question. “what?” “do you trust me?” you repeat, a stern tone in your voice as you looked down at him with a certain gleam in your eyes that he just cannot resist. “..yes?”

jamil grabs your hand, pulling himself onto the carpet. the warmth from his palms spread throughout your entire body, suddenly regulating the your internal temperature. as you both kneeled on the carpet, your eyes met, staring into each other intensely. his hand subconsciously squeezes yours, holding to them for dear life, not wanting to let go.

while this was insanely romantic to you both, from outside perspective, it just looks like this 🧍‍♂️🧍

“ah, jamil, you’re squeezing my hand.” you laugh nervously, watching as the heat rises to his cheeks. “s-sorry. now then, shall we?” he clears his throat, sitting down properly before looking at you with a small smile. you can’t help but reciprocate, flashing him a grin before taking his hand again. “of course.”

before the carpet can take off into the clouds, cheering can be heard from inside scarabia halls.

it seemed kalim had a little.. arrangement for the both of you. jamil pulls his hood over his face in embarrassment as the carpet flies towards the glittering sky of stars, something both you and jamil can enjoy together.

A/N: jamil bias is EVIDENT (I kinda sorta didn’t go with the song that much and got carried away oopsies)

date published: 7/28/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 13!

lthe year is officially one-fourth over and i gotta be honest, i do not vibe with that at all. the passage of time can suck my ass. enjoy these fics!!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) | catchingpapermoons/@adamsparirsh | 53.7k | M

Eddie gets Buck to come to couples therapy with him. truly such a stunning fic. i love how this is just filled with emotion at every corner, not just in the dialogue but descriptive passages as well. brilliant, brilliant stuff!!

anther | theghosts | 6.6k | E

Eddie gets hit with pollen from a magical plant and develops some rather interesting symptoms. Buck does what any good best friend would do and helps Eddie through it. it is my humble opinion that the 911 fandom needs more sex pollen fic. if you're reading this and you don't immediately agree with me, i'm gonna need you to click the link above, read it, and then come back and tell me that i was absolutely right, because we do, in fact, need 700 more fics just like it. this one is so, so well-written, i love the bits of worldbuilding and the buddie and the smut. it's so good <3

champagne kisses | spaceprincessem/@spaceprincessem | 1.9k | GA

eddie comes home and buck stays. gorgeous writing AND a love confession?? oh, this fic absolutely delivers. love it!!

cinnamon kisses | tawaifeddiediaz/@aashiqeddiediaz | 3.5k | T

Buck wakes up from a nap, cuddles Eddie, proposes, and devours cinnamon rolls, in that very order. i have an all-day study session planned for tomorrow and i'm gonna pick up a cinnamon roll as a treat just because of this fic. i have been craving one so badly since reading this!! this was a reread of one of my favourite fics ever <3

close enough for comfort | allyasavedtheday/@littlespoonevan | 14.1k | T

A look at how Buck and Eddie's physical relationship develops from season 2 to season 5 AKA the one with all the hugging. i love how this dips into canon at all these places and how intimate the whole fic feels <3 so good!!

finders keepers | drh0rrible/@betanoiz | 7.1k | E

After Eddie leaves for Texas, Buck finds Eddie’s sex toy in his new bedroom. He reacts normally. i'm a huge fan of all the unhinged buddie long distance sex fics lately, and this is a shining example of just how good those can be. absolutely mind-blowing!!

i'm scared of being lonely (i'll let anybody hold me) | justhockey | 9.4k | T

“I’m not in love with my best friend,” Buck says, but the words feel strange in his mouth. this has such a lovely reunion bit and i always love how this author writes ravi <3

it hit me in the kitchen | heartcompass/@bugsongs | 13.1k | GA

Eddie leaves for Texas and everybody copes with food in one way or another. buddie and food is one of my favourite fic combinations <3 this is lovely and heartwarming and all the food sounds so, so good!!

oh what a terrible honor it's been (to learn that my blessings are things you call sins) | wafflesofdoom/@capseycartwright | 18.3k | GA

Christopher leaves for Texas, Eddie goes back to therapy, unearths an emotional lockbox he had been fourteen years old when he buried, and has a lot of thoughts about how Buck is sunshine incarnate. In hindsight, it probably should have been obvious he wasn't straight. this has been on my marked for later list for a while and i'm so glad to have had the opportunity to actually read it! i love how this captures eddie and touches on religion and queerness and just everything, really. also, can we talk about that title? i LOVE that title

pain is cold water (your brain just gets used to it) | lilacbarnes | 22k | M

Eddie leaves, and calls, and calls, and calls. Buck falls apart, and lets it go to voicemail. such a wonderful fic!! i love how the voicemails capture eddie's voice, and following buck's arc through this was just lovely <3

tell me how it feels (say it ain't so) | Iover_of_mine/@lover-of-mine | 8.3k | T

Eddie hears Natalia saying Buck's death was cool and things spiral out of control from there.  this has some of the absolute best buddie dialogue i've read in ages. it feels so, so true to character, it's so good!!

this whole thing between us | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 3.9k | E

Eddie and Buck swap bodies and get together. bodyswap fic!! i love a bodyswap fic!! this is suck a fun take on the trope and i love how both of them reacted to the swap <3

write your name on every blank page | lamardeuse/@lamardeuse | 11k | M

This is an impulse he doesn't have to worry about, because a) it's only going to cost him two dollars, and b) it's frivolous. Eddie doesn't usually do frivolous, but Father Brian told him to allow himself joy and he desperately needs some right now. listen i am not joking when i say that i've been waiting for a postcards fic ever since eddie said he was moving to el paso. this is absolutely everything i could have wished for and so much more <3 i loved looking at the cards they sent!!

[purpleseven-7]

How about a head canon for Namjoon? tyyyy !!🥹

Namjoon Headcannons

— Namjoon is the definition of HUSBAND MATERIAL

— I’m talking, opening doors for you, pulling your chair out, tying your shoes or strapping them.

— You get ultimate princess treatment.

— He’s also hella protective.

— If you guys are out in public you’re not allowed out of his sight.

— You have to go to the bathroom? Okay. Let’s find a family bathroom.

— You wanna go talk to your friend? Thats fine. Lets go.

— He proposes after a year. It was an if you know you know situation

— He holds you to the highest standards. You’re literally his everything.

— If his friends ask him to go out with him he always replies with “let me ask my love”

— You are backstage at every show

— He doesn’t mind if you work but would definitely prefer if you let him provide for you.

— SO MANY SONGS ABOUT YOU

— Loves talking about you on lives and in any interviews

— PDA to the MAXXXXX

— He’s always touching you in some way.

— Can’t sleep if you aren’t in his arms

— Makes sure you are pampered ALWAYS

— You’ll randomly wake up from a nap and he’ll have a whole bag of stuff on the counter (Snacks, Face masks, Bath Bombs, etc..)

— When he’s away he is texting and checking up with you every few hours

— If for some reason you can’t go on tour and you tell him you forgot to eat that day or something he will fr have food delivered to the door and you’ll be in HUGE trouble

— I feel like lowkey…he’s a dominant in the bedroom AND out of the bedroom. Not in the weird way though.

— He’s a dominant in the way you can literally turn your brain off and just let him take care of you no matter where you are

— He loves when you’re at the studio with him.

— His lock screen is a picture of you in his lap, straddling facing him, your face buried against his neck as you sleep completely clung to him while he worked at the studio

— If you’ve had a bad day he will do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING to make sure you feel better.

— You want that expensive cafe food from across town? He will be back in an hour.

— You want a back and foot rub? Lay down on your stomach and close your eyes.

— Like there is no limit!!!

— Don’t even get me started on if someone were to EVER be rude to you for any reason

— He would GO OFF.

— Like see red and become almost homicidal.

— I’ve said it already but you’re his EVERYTHING and he takes care of you. No matter what.

[youthereader]

Echoes in the Dark part 3.

PAIRING: joel miller (the last of us) x fem!reader

SUMMARY: 2.4k words. Every morning you wake up and remember two things. Firstly, that your son is dead, and secondly, that Joel Miller is your patient. || A fix-it fic. Reader is Joel’s carer as he recovers from Abby’s attempt on his life.

RATING: E. hand job, praise kink if you squint. age gap (reader is in their 30s, Joel is in his 60s). heavy angst, grief and loss of a child, graphic violence.

A/N: bon appétit, babes. I wrote this like a thirsty lady possessed.

PART 2.

From then on, you catch yourself hoping to be closer to Joel. You become more eager to see him, take pride in looking after him, and oftentimes you imagine him being restored of strength, throwing you down on his bed. In these fantasies, his huge hands are rough and demanding, and the fucking is downright filthy.

You bring yourself back to reality, usually watching him hold a book with his brows furrowed over the words, his grey curls inviting you to run your fingers through them. He doesn’t notice you zone out, you don’t think, he’s usually busy trying to get something done at his new desk he has installed over his bed like you suggested. 

He’s gaining some of his strength back and his ribs are mostly healed. His leg is still the biggest issue, as well as his reluctance to nap. You can see him fighting his exhaustion so by the afternoon he has to rest whether he likes it or not, and you never say it out loud, but you know your face says ‘I told you so’. He narrows his heavy eyes even more at you and you crack a smile. If he were younger, maybe you’d consider it almost flirting, but you don’t know if he’s attracted to you. He mostly tip-toes around anything to do with your personal life, having understood you’re not opening up to him anytime soon. 

One afternoon a couple weeks after you saw his naked chest for the first time, he asks you to take him to see Gail, a lady you don’t know very well. You only spoke to her a handful of times, giving your usual superficial routine. You know exactly who she is, but you didn’t realize Joel saw her until he handed you a plastic bag of weed. You open it and take a deep breath.

“Holy shit, this is a lot,” you murmur. 

“It’s not, actually.”

You love the scent, remembering it from some distant piece of your past. You never smoked it much as an adult. It was hard to come by for years. 

“It’s what I pay her,” he adds, wheeling himself out of his room. 

You follow, pocketing the bag in your jacket. You offer you hand more often now, secretly hoping he takes it, and he’s never disappointed you. It’s like you reached a place where he doesn’t need to give you an arm to help him. Since no-one ever really touches you otherwise, the intimacy of this is staggering, further egging you on. Sometimes, you want to risk it all, say what you’ve been picturing over and over. You want to share the details of what he could do to you if he asked - and honestly, he could do anything.

You never get brave enough to follow through, though, always ending up feeling a little pathetic, because your crush is the best thing going on right now, and it’s not even that serious. Some days, he barely talks to you because he’s too fucking tired to move. His recovery has been brutal.

You wheel him to Gail’s house and knock on her front door. 

“You can leave me to it,” he says, when you hand him back the weed.

You turn your heel, doing as your told, but Gail is faster than you expect and opens the door, greeting Joel. She calls out:

“So you’re his-?”

Joel interrupts. “Yeah, she’s my…”

“Oh,” she says, looking at you fully. She smiles. 

She seems off, possibly stoned already. You don’t blame her. Finishing her silent assessment, she gives Joel a look. 

“I’ll be back in an hour,” you say, before anyone else can talk. You look at Joel. “Do you need anything?”

He shakes his head, scratching the back of it. You almost run away, hands shoved into your pockets as you watch your feet the entire way, super aware of how awkward you were. 

-

You return to Joel’s place and strip his bed, swapping the sheets for clean ones. You focus on your tasks, and try not to study his home, and learn more about him as you make your way through it, cleaning what you can as fast as possible. 

You’re washing his dishes when there’s a knock and then a key in the front door. Tommy appears behind you, eyes falling to your arms deep in the sink, the suds up to your elbows.

“Hey, he’s not here?” 

“No,” you say, not sure if Gail’s someone Joel talks to Tommy about. “But he’ll be back soon.”

“I can’t come by tonight, the foal’s coming now,” he says, thumb jutting behind him. “They need me down there-”

“Oh, for sure,” you say. “Is the mom okay?”

The whole town was voting on what to call the foal when it’s born. Your pick was ‘Maple’. Joel never told you his. 

“It just means he’ll stink a little longer.”

Oh. Tommy bathes him, you forgot. It wasn’t something you ever did, you never thought about it much since Joel never smells bad to you, not that Tommy needs to know that.

“He won’t mind.”

“I’m sure he won’t,” Tommy mutters. He hurries off. “See ya…”

He disappears and you stop scrubbing, moving on to rinsing the final dishes. Your movements are slower. 

-

You keep quiet when you retrieve Joel from Gail’s, warmth in your guts as your mind keeps turning, turning, turning…

“What?” you blurt, missing something he says. 

“I said, ‘The snow’s finally melting.’”

He’s right. The trees drip occasionally. You see patches of green, you can smell the earth again. You take a deep breath now, nodding.

“Yeah.”

He takes your hand when you’re inside, his callouses scraping across your palm. He has a strong grip, made gentler. Your stomach flips - it fucking flips. You swallow, putting him back in his wheelchair in the hallway. 

“Uh, Tommy came by,” you begin, and Joel’s briefly alarmed, you see it plain as day. “Everything’s fine, except he can’t shower you tonight, he’s gotta help out in the stables…”

You trail off, and feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You want him to ask. It would be so much easier if he just…

“Oh, okay,” he says, hands going to his wheels. He doesn’t roll away. “Um. I could really use it, though. I’ve been sweatin’ a bit…”

“I can’t tell,” you blurt, and he smirks. 

“Thanks. But you don’t know the half of it.”

“You really don’t stink, Joel,” you insist. 

You know where this conversation is heading and you don’t know how to handle it, your heartbeat picking up. Your eagerness threatens to burst out of you.

His voice lowers and you think you can die:

“It’s not in your job description, but…”

“I can help you,” you say, your face on fire. 

“I know it’s making you uncomfortable-”

“It’s not,” you go on. “It totally does not. Seriously.”

Why do you have to sound like a teenager, even younger than you already are? Shut up. Oh, my God. Shut the fuck up!

“Just keep your underwear on,” you babble. 

“Sure,” Joel says. 

There’s a brief silence you wish to fill, but you know you’ll only say something batshit and embarrassing, so you press your lips together. 

“Let’s go, then,” Joel mutters, and he rolls off. 

You press a hand to your face, wanting to hit yourself a few times behind his back. 

“Uh-huh,” you reply. 

You tell yourself to grow up. If you want to be a nurse, you’re going to deal with a lot of nudity. It’s really immature of you to think this is any different. And unprofessional. And weird. You berate yourself internally as you make your way into the bathroom, slipping past his wheelchair to open the shower door. 

There’s a white plastic garden chair and a detachable shower head resting on it. You take a deep breath and turn back to Joel, who is already taking off his thick jacket. You hover, then finally help him when his chest is fully exposed. He has less issues with his upper body movements now. He gingerly stands up and you move forward for his hand to grab the space between your shoulder and neck like a vice. 

Your stomach flips, warmth collecting in your belly. 

“Wait,” you whisper, and move back, Joel going still. You flip on the water and quickly move back, his hand back on you. “Don’t want you shivering too much.”

“Thanks,” he mutters. “Dunno how long the hot water will last…”

He looks uncomfortable, and it’s like a reality check. He’s not enjoying this, so it’s best to be out of your own head right now. He’s the guy you’re helping, not a piece of meat. He uses his free hand to awkwardly pull down his sweatpants, shuffling toward the shower door. 

He grabs it, and you crouch to tug his pants off the rest of the way. You can’t help staring at him, at the broad expanse of him, aware of how he towers over you. You lick your lips and grab the shower head, gesturing to the seat. You test the water against your palm.

“Damn, your shower pressure is way better than mine,” you mutter, and he clears his throat.

“I’ll, uh, look at that for you sometime,” he says. 

You glance at him, letting him see you smile a little more, but he doesn’t return it. 

“Thanks. Appreciate it.”

He says nothing, seeming tense. He sits down with your assistance, frowning. You hand him the showerhead and grab the bodywash on the floor. The label is faded and barely legible, something from decades ago that you can’t make out, but it smells sharp. 

“‘Aquatic Splash’ or somethin’,” Joel mutters, taking it from you to squeeze in his hand. “I dunno.”

He’s grumpy. Embarrassed, you realize. He washes his upper half with his eyes elsewhere, brows knitted together. You wait, until he clears his throat again.

“I’m gonna need you to… uh,” he says, and you spring forward, probably too eager. 

He doesn’t seem to notice. He hands you the showerhead, refusing to look your way as you lather his leg away from the bandage. You watch as he grits his teeth. He doesn’t take pain meds anymore, though he definitely should. His stitches won’t be out for a while, and rehab will still go on for months. You wash away the suds and stare at his face until he acknowledges you on the tiled floor. 

“It’s okay, I’m supposed to be helping you,” you say. “And it’ll help you relax.”

“Help me relax,” he parrots, and then smirks, shaking his head.

“Why?”

“You’re…”

He trails off, sighing. You do your best to ignore his grumbling as you lean up, closer to him. 

“Lemme do your back.” 

He gives in, bending forward a bit. You move around to kneel behind his back, then reach up to lather soap on his shoulder blades. He grunts.

“Am I hurting you?”

“Nah,” he whispers. “Feels good.”

You know you’re wet when he says that, licking your lips again, staring at the back of his head. You take a deep breath, composing yourself. 

“What if I…?”

Your hand follows the lather, thumb digging into his muscle. He gives a little groan. You do it again, his head falling forward. He lets out a huff. 

“My back is killin’ me,” he admits.

“You should’ve said something.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he says, with a weak chuckle. “If it meant you doing this.”

You can’t see his face so you don’t know what he means, if he likes you in particular doing this. You do it harder and he groans, and you move onto his other shoulder blade. He makes a pained sort of sound and you smirk, digging into the muscle. It’s a little awkward with you left hand only and your right still holding the showerhead, but it’s working. 

He lets out a low breath, and then you go completely still, his hand coming up to grip your wrist - and the showerhead falls to the tiles with an echoing clatter. You can’t form the words to apologize, when he turns back and locks eyes with you. 

You think you’ve overstepped, your heart racing, until he places your right hand on his heaving chest. His gaze pulls you in, your chest meeting his back, your faces so close together now that you can feel his breath on your parted lips. 

He watches you, waiting, eyes dipping to your mouth, and then he pulls your hand lower, lower down to his stomach. He is a little soft, like you predicted. He has a middle-aged belly but hidden beneath is a rock hard core. Your clit pulses, and you move the last couple inches down, slipping under the waistband of his soaked briefs to wrap your hand around his thick cock. 

“Fuck,” he gasps, and you press your forehead to his wet shoulder, groaning. “F-fuck…”

You slide up and down, so slowly, and he falls forward again, like he means to bend himself in half. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whispers, and you smile against his skin, lips brushing him. “I knew you’d be good at this…Goddamn, sweetheart…”

Warmth blooms in your chest and your cunt gives a little squeeze. Joel’s hips fail to lift but he tries anyway, to fuck into your tight fist. He groans again and you nip at his flesh. 

“Fuck, you're so fuckin’... soft,” he mumbles. He breathes your name and you sigh, giving him the briefest lick.

You jerk him nice and slow and he groans like a dream, your thumb dragging over his sensitive tip of him, your left hand sliding down to join your right. You take him out of his drenched underwear and cup his balls. He jumps in your hand, cursing your name. The action caught him off-guard and he gives a shaky laugh, moaning. 

You pepper his skin with kisses, up to the back of his head. He turns, hand coming up to grab you by the jaw, his brute strength back tenfold. His thumb brushes your mouth, and you nip at him again, wrapping your lips around him. Knuckle deep, you give him a few sucks, and he's mesmerized. His eyes are nearly black, and he grunts, fingers scraping your scalp. 

“Fuck–”

He gasps, balls drawing up. He comes hard. It's slow, long spurts over your knuckles, dripping onto the floor. His eyes squeeze shut and your foreheads press together, his thumb still in your mouth, your incisor piercing its pad.

The water still runs from the forgotten shower head, his come following it down the drain. You let go of his spent cock, lifting your hand to your mouth to suck and lap up the mess, eyes locked with his. Your face burns and you savor his taste. You swallow it all, sighing contentedly. 

😈❤️

Oh, man. This was seriously fun to write. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist.

PART 4.

[harringtonfeels]

family

4.6k | Fluff and a healthy dose of hurt/comfort | Stepdad!Steve x Reader | Kid fic | Fluff, Angst

When Reader spends Mother's Day feeling like she's failing as a parent and a partner, her boyfriend Steve helps change her perspective.

Notes: This is a little Mother's Day fic. Reader's kid is a ~4 year old named Henry (and I love him). Hurt/comfort is involving the general mom guilt when raising a kid post-divorce.

It hasn't been a bad day - well, not exactly. It's Mother's Day, and you were supposed to have the day off work but were called in to handle an emergency while your boss is away on vacation. You'd had plans for the day already and had to cancel almost all of them.

First was breakfast in bed, although that one had been a bit up in the air. Your son is at the age where, when he wakes up before you, he wants to climb right into your bed and sandwich himself between you and Steve, poking your arm and carefully prying open your eyelids until you wake up. Sleeping in isn't usually an option unless Steve gets up with him so you can enjoy some blessed sleep alone, so it was already highly dependent on what time Henry decided to get out of bed. Ultimately, not a huge loss, but it was a nice pipe dream, nonetheless.

Then, after nap time, you were supposed to have a picnic in the park, just you and your boys. Steve already prepped the food and got a cooler ready last night, and set aside everyone's swim clothes for the splash pad.

And then you were supposed to have a lowkey dinner at home with them, and a nice, long bath, too, if you were lucky.

Any of those things would have been more than enough. The weather's been beautiful this spring, and you've been so busy, you haven't been able to spend as much time with Henry on the weekends as you'd like. It's something you've been lamenting a lot lately. Your job requires a lot of you, a lot more than it used to. You took the job when you separated from your ex because you needed a way to provide for your son without relying on a marriage that just wasn't working anymore. But now, it's two years later, and the time is flying by, and you know the things you're missing with Henry are things you'll never get back. So you've been trying hard to cherish the time you do have with him. It's just nearly impossible to put the energy into it that you want to when you're constantly working overtime with no end in sight.

Steve has been a huge help the past year that you've been dating. He met Henry for the first time about six months in, and although Henry was shy at first, they've been thick as thieves almost from the start. Steve is always at your house on the weekends, and he's converted the guest bedroom at his place into a room for Henry. He picks him up from pre-school when you need him to, which is becoming more and more frequent with your increasing workload. He joins you for doctor's appointments and holds Henry's hand at the dentist. You don't think there are enough words in the world to express to Steve how grateful you are for his help, or for how much you can tell he loves being a part of Henry's life - and a part of yours, even when it's messy.

Today, more than ever, you're determined to update your resume and start looking elsewhere. Because it's Mother's Day, and it's an hour to Henry's bedtime, and you're just now walking through the front door, tears welling in the corners of your eyes.

The way everything has been piling up the last few months, it feels more overwhelming than when you first became a single mother.

As you're turning to lock the door, you hear the pitter patter of little feet stomping down the hall.

"Mommy!" Henry says, and before you can even hang up your purse, you're tackled from behind, little arms wrapping around one of your legs.

"Hi, baby," you laugh, looking over your shoulder at him. He's got a toy car in one hand and is mashing it into your thigh, but even as tired as you are, it's hard to care about the discomfort. You reach down and ruffle his hair, moving your leg laboriously before he sits down to wrap his legs around your ankle. Only as you're trudging across the living room with a thirty five pound ankle weight do you notice the smell in the air.

Dinner.

Henry giggles as you grunt with each step, and you're smiling, too, all your worries presently forgotten at the door. When you round the corner to the kitchen, you see Steve dressed in slacks and a button-up, sleeves rolled up just below the elbows. Your eyes linger where his tanned forearm flexes as he stirs the sauce simmering on the stove, and when Steve catches you staring, he doesn't even make fun of you.

"How's our girl?" he asks, wiping his hands with a dishtowel and tossing it over his shoulder before closing the gap between you. He presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

With a playful smile, you say, "Well, I thought I was doing alright, but suddenly, I'm feeling a little weighed down."

The laugh that pours out of Henry is infectious, and Steve is all smiles as he leans down to Henry's level and pries him off your legs. "Do you want to tell Mama what we did today?" he asks, setting Henry on his feet.

This is a new game you play together. Henry has always been a little shy, and he answers broad questions with a lot of I don't know and Nothing really. So you've been working on feeling more comfortable sharing. You always give Henry the opportunity to go first, but today, he seems to want to hide his face behind your leg, even though he's smiling. So you start.

"Well, today, I got a fancy breakfast at Brew & Bloom, and they gave me a free cookie because the barista liked my aura."

Steve hums, already diving back into his sauce. "Oh, yeah? What did they say about your aura? What color was it?"

"Motherly?" you guess. With your hastily applied mascara and less than stellar hair, you certainly look the part today, although that has less to do with being a mom and more to do with getting abruptly called in to work. "What did you do today, Steve?"

He hums as though he's thinking. "When I did laundry today, I found a gummy worm in somebody's shorts."

"Was it tasty?" Henry asks.

Steve's face scrunches, and you laugh. "It was a little crunchy," he says, "but it was one of the pink and blue ones, so you know it was still delicious."

Henry pulls a face at that. "You didn't eat it," he says disbelievingly.

"I totally did!" Steve's voice is slightly higher than usual, a dead giveaway that he's lying. "If you don't believe me, you can smell my breath. It'll be just like a gummy worm."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Why don't you c'mere then and give it a try?" Steve teases, eyes full of mirth, and you blink, feeling an overwhelming wave of fondness wash over you.

When Henry hesitantly steps out from behind you as though to approach, Steve switches off the burner and pivots, the directness of his step a clear prelude to a chase if you've ever seen one. Henry is too slow to piece it together, and just as he's starting to move his feet, Steve scoops him up in his arms and holds him up. Henry wriggles violently as Steve pretends to eat his stomach like a watermelon, laughing hysterically the whole time.

After a few seconds of this, Steve sets Henry back down on the ground, both of them breathing hard, and you lean against the doorframe, observing.

"Tell Mom what you did today," Steve prompts again when they've both caught their breath.

Henry takes a seat on the floor and picks up two of his cars, which are lying about on the rug. Absentmindedly pushing them around the little streets patterned into it, he says, "Steve played dinosaurs with me, and he told me all about this one called a place-iosaurus."

"Plesiosaurus," Steve whispers loudly from the doorway.

"Ooh," you say, settling yourself onto your knees beside him. He seems to be chasing the red car with the silver one around the little cartoon hospital building. "Can you tell me about the plesiosaurus?"

Steve seems to be wrapping up dinner as you find a green car to join Henry with, and he prattles off facts that sound accurate, or at least believable to your ears. It's apparently somewhat turtle-shaped, with a long, long neck. "Like a brack-osaurus," he says.

"The noble brachiosaurus," you repeat sagely, and Henry looks up at you like you've hung the moon. You don't know all that much about dinosaurs, but that's been his thing recently, so you've all been learning. You can tell how much he loves it when you remember the things he gets excited about. One day, he won't find you so exciting, and you know that, so you're trying to enjoy it now, while you can.

You play for about fifteen minutes before Steve calls from the dining room to let you both know dinner is ready. You have to remind Henry not to run into the dining room - more than once, he's rounded a corner directly into you or Steve while you were carrying a large container of food, or plates.

When you enter the room, Steve has set the table with your nice dishes, the porcelain ones with the flowers on them. You can't remember the last time you used them - surely, when you were married, at least. But Steve has gotten out a nice tablecloth, which you know must have been stored in the back of the linen closet, and placemats. There are a couple of wine glasses for the two of you, and Henry's green, plastic cup is already filled with juice in front of his seat.

"Did you iron this?" you ask Steve, hand on the tablecloth as Henry seats himself.

"Tell me when," he tells Henry as he starts to dole out food. Then, he glances up at you, expression sheepish. "Maybe."

You didn't even know Steve knew how to iron at all.

After a few scoops, when Henry hasn't told him to stop, Steve laughs at his expectant little expression. "Okay, why don't we start with this, buddy?"

He serves you as well, and your cheeks burn at the gentleness of it all. It's not that Steve never does this sort of thing. You're just still not used to being treated so kindly, and Steve - well, Steve is old fashioned in all the good ways. He opens doors for you, carries your groceries. To his core, he's so, so considerate. It never fails to impress you. Sometimes, you catch yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never comes.

Steve can cook quite well. When you first got together, he wasn't that great at it, but many nights, he's helped you in the kitchen or made dinner when you were at his house. He's a quick learner. At this point, he's probably a better cook than you are, and it shows with tonight's meal.

After dinner, Steve tells you to go relax, and he takes care of bathtime. You're not exactly sure what to do with yourself, so you find yourself curled up on the couch, watching TV and ruminating on the day.

Steve has done so much for you these last few weeks that it's hard to process it all. You love that he likes spending time with Henry, and that he never complains. But, even though he stays over a lot, you aren't even living together yet. It's hard not to feel guilty about, well, everything.

When you first started dating, Steve told you he's always wanted kids, and you think with a little more time, maybe he'll even love Henry like one of his own. You can already see it on his face, when he talks about him, long after Henry's gone to bed. When he updates you on the things they've done throughout the day, tells stories about this funny thing Henry said, or oh my god, you should have seen his face. Maybe Steve loves him already.

But it's not fair to him to be doing this much work, especially not this soon. And you don't see the situation at work getting any better, at least not in the coming months. It's one of those things, where someone leaves and they opt not to replace them, over and over, until one person is doing the job of several. And they've got no intention of hiring anyone else to help you. And meanwhile, you're trying to make the most of your time with your son, and you're also trying to make the most of your relationship with Steve. It's hard to have a relationship with someone who can't devote the time.

An old friend called you the other day, told you their new company is hiring and said they thought you'd be a perfect fit. It's almost exactly the same pay, with fewer responsibilities - and, most importantly, no overtime. Tomorrow, you tell yourself. Tomorrow, I'll revise my resume, and I'll send it over and I'll do whatever I have to do to get this job. Whatever it takes to be able to be more present in your life again.

You can hear Henry giggling almost the whole time, splashing with his rubber ducks and his boats. As usual, when Henry starts whining, you know they're about to vacate the bathroom. Sure enough, the door swings open, and they both trudge down the hall to Henry's room, Henry in his koala towel with the hood up, and Steve in his yellow swim trunks. His hair is a mess, and he's got bubbles all over his forearms and in his hair. You're so endeared, you think - despite the fact that you want him to stop having to pick up your slack - you could get used to seeing him this way.

You move quickly, following them to Henry's room to help with pajamas and a bedtime story. While you let Henry choose his bedtime story - The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, it is - Steve goes to your bedroom to change into a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. Henry's thrilled that Steve is doing storytime; it's usually just you, but Steve does silly voices better, and he always makes sure the bad guys sound extra silly.

Henry picks out some Buzz Lightyear jammies, and once he's dressed and his hair is dried, Steve says, "Why don't you show Mama what you made her today?"

You raise your eyebrows and watch as Henry dutifully trots over to his dresser and pulls a sheet of paper off the top. It's a white sheet of copy paper with four carefully drawn stick figures, three big and one small. In Steve's handwriting across the bottom, it reads Happy Mother's Day - Love, Henry with the year etched into the corner.

Henry looks up at you with cautious optimism, like he's unsure if he should hand it over, or if you'll like it, but thinks you probably will. You've seen that face on him a million times. It's the same as when you tickle him between his neck and shoulder and he leans his little head over to fend you off, fighting a grin the whole time.

"Hmmm, who could this be?" you ask, pointing to the stick figure that's about half the size of the others, who wears a very convincing blue box of a shirt and brown shorts.

"It's me, silly," Henry says with a little belly laugh and waits expectantly for you to keep going.

You cock your head to the side and inspect the three adults. It looks to be maybe one woman (you) and a man, but the third one has long hair and pants, so it's anyone's guess, really. "And this one is me?" you ask, pointing at the lone stick figure wearing a dress. You assume he learned triangle dresses symbolize women from pre-school, but then again, the figure looks suspiciously like the symbol for a women's restroom, so it's hard to say.

He nods emphatically.

"Wow. I can tell you worked really hard on this. I like the stripes on my dress." He has recently developed a real desire to color between the lines without any mistakes, and you're careful not to say anything to reward "perfection" above effort.

"Thank you," he says, very businesslike.

Your eyes shift back over to the other two characters. "And who is this?" you ask.

Henry frowns. "That's Steve," he says, like it should have been obvious. Maybe it should have been.

He's put out that you had to ask, clearly, and you nod. "Oh, right. I thought so."

"Yeah, it's obviously Steve," Steve interjects, "because of his beautiful hair."

"Exactly!" Henry says with a little gap-toothed grin.

You roll your eyes at Steve, and then your eyes rove over the other stick figure. Henry doesn't wait for you to ask, just says, "And that's Daddy."

You should have known. You really should have, and you should have expected it, but it feels like a gut punch. It's sweet that Henry included Steve in the photo. It would have been sweet if he'd included his dad with you and Henry, too. But it's painful, seeing him try to include all the people he loves, and knowing very little of his life will ever include all four of you together. Seeing how happy Henry is, and how much love he put into this drawing makes your heart ache.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you lean down and pull him in for a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "It's beautiful, honey. Can I put this on the fridge?"

"On the front," he suggests.

All through storytime, your mind wanders. You can't help but ruminate on all the things you wish you were doing differently, how you wish things would have been different with you and Henry's dad. How you wish things were just easier in general. And how you can't shake the constant nagging feeling that you aren't doing enough in really any area of your life. You're lucky Steve does all the reading tonight and you're just there for moral support.

When you tuck him in and kiss his forehead, he wrestles free of his blanket and extends his arms toward Steve, demanding another hug. Then he demands Steve tuck him back in as well.

You remember how impatient your ex could be with things like this, all the times Henry reached for him and was brushed aside. You think of all the times it probably still happens when he's with his dad and you're not there to run interference. Once you're back in the privacy of the hallway, Steve already cleaning up in the dining room and the bedroom door shut snugly behind you, you start to cry.

You didn't know it would be this hard, is all. When you decided to have a kid, you knew there was a chance, like with any couple, that you may not be together forever. But you never thought that a guy who's known your kid for six months would be a kinder and more present parent than his own father. And it hadn't occurred to you that Henry could ever want someone to be a part of his life in the same way as you and his dad. It wasn't until you began the process of divorce that you ever seriously considered you might eventually introduce someone to Henry, and that Henry may not understand why you can't all be one big, happy family together.

Henry doesn't ask much about his dad anymore, but he sees him frequently enough that he doesn't forget him. Frequently enough that he still gets excited to sit in the windowseat and watch the driveway for his dad to pick him up.

The dishes clatter as Steve carries them to the kitchen, and then the faucet turns on in the kitchen, so the sound of your sniffling in the living room is muffled. You put your head in your hands, like that can hide the sound of your heart breaking. But after a couple of minutes, when Steve shuts the tap off, he must hear you. "Baby," he calls, panic filling his voice.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" The couch dips beside you under his weight, and he takes one of your hands in his, wet with tears.

You don't know what to say. There's so much to cry about, honestly, and it's hard to know where to start. And Steve has done so much for you already, and you don't want to put this on him. You wish, selfishly, that he would have done the dishes for a little bit longer so you could have finished crying without him ever knowing.

You force yourself to slow down your breathing, leaning into him and letting him wrap his arms around you. Steve gives the best hugs, you think, and only an idiot would refuse one.

His hand smooths down the hair at the crown of your head, and you paw at your cheeks with your sleeve, struggling to wipe your tears away as they're still rolling.

Finally, voice trembling, you say, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for crying." His voice is gentle. You know that he means it.

"I'm not. I mean, that's not what I was apologizing for." Drawing a shaky breath, you rest your head on his chest and look across the room, clenching your fist tightly. "I'm just—I'm sorry you had to do all this today. And every day, lately."

You can hear the confusion in his voice. "I didn't really have to," he says plainly. "I wanted to do everything. Actually, I wanted to do more than this and just didn't have enough time."

"This isn't your responsibility, though. Not just Mother's Day - just - everything. You've been doing so much, and you're so good with Henry, and I know he loves you. And—"

"And I love him," Steve says calmly, brown eyes wide with earnestness, "and I love you." You don't know what to say to that. If he was looking to disarm you, he was successful. After a pause, he continues, "Look, you've been doing too much. You're too hard on yourself. If I didn't want to be this involved with Henry, I wouldn't be. If I didn't have time to watch him, I'd tell you. But I want to, and I can, so I do."

"It's just not fair to you."

He shrugs. "It doesn't feel unfair to me."

There's a long silence, and now that you've stopped crying, you do a much better job of wiping your eyes. Finally, you say, "It really hurt me to see all of us in his picture. It's just—I don't think he understands yet that his dad will hardly be in the same room with me, let alone spend a day with you and me and Henry. And it's so sweet that he put us all together, but it feels so wrong, knowing how much love he has in his heart for all of us and that we'll never be a family again."

Steve laces his fingers with yours and brushes his thumb against your wrist in reassuring strokes. "Honey, it's gonna be okay. You don't have to be a family with him for us all to be Henry's family. Hell, if there's anything I've learned over the years, it's that family is what you make it. I've got family I'm not related to, and plenty of them have never even met each other. It's okay if Henry's family looks a little different. We're still his."

It takes a little time for you to ruminate on it, but you know Steve's right. Finally, you lament, "I think I'm just scared that one day, I'll have to explain it to him why our family doesn't look like his friends' families, and that it will hurt him to hear."

Steve presses a kiss to your hairline and murmurs, "It's hard to be the one having the big talks. But maybe he already knows, and maybe it won't seem that weird, as long as we make sure he knows he's loved. Lots of kids have stepdads, or live with their grandma, or are adopted. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Of course there's nothing wrong with it," you say, "but I'm afraid he'll think it means there's something wrong."

"Then it's our job to make his life as normal and full of love as possible. And—Honey, look at me." When you lift your head and look into Steve's brown eyes, you wonder what he sees. If your mascara is smudged all over your face, if your eyes are puffy. And then he says, "I need you to know you're doing a great job."

It feels like it can't possibly be true. With how much you work, how much extra effort you feel like you have to put in to meet your own standards lately.

"Seriously," he says, "I see you doubting yourself sometimes, or feeling sorry for needing to ask for my help, but you're doing your best. And it may not look how you want it to, but even Henry can see how hard you work to give him a good life."

You sit up then, brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know what he said to me today? He told me he wanted to make you a perfect picture for Mother's Day because he knows you miss him when you're gone." You blink back at him, surprised. "And he told me earlier this week that he likes how you don't rush him when he doesn't know what to say. So, yeah, maybe things aren't how you want them right now, and it's hard. But if Henry can see what an incredible mother you are, I think you can give yourself some credit."

You sit with that for a few moments, trying to internalize it. Sometimes, you get so caught up in trying to be the right kind of parent and do all the right things, that you don't realize Henry might actually notice the things you do.

"And, for the record," Steve adds, "I don't just love spending time with him. I love being here when you come home, and spending time with you - with or without him. I'd go anywhere you were, no matter what we were doing."

After a beat, you say, "I'm putting in for a new job. So I can be home more."

He sits back, eyes roving your face. "Really?" His voice sounds almost hopeful.

You nod. "Yeah, I just need to update my resume, and… I think I've got a shot, actually, with this place my friend works at."

Steve's face lights up, and he makes you tell him all the details - what you'd be doing, where it is, how the pay compares. He's so excited that, for the first time all day, you actually feel yourself relax a little.

He offers to make you each a glass of wine to celebrate, and you accept, although you remind him that you haven't been offered a position, exactly. He doesn't seem to care, and when he makes it into the kitchen, he says, "Oh. I almost forgot."

When he returns, he's carrying a vase of flowers - your favorite flowers, the very same ones he brought you on your first date. He sets them on the coffee table before sitting down and passing you your glass of wine. "Happy Mother's Day, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple.

[anatee]

Waking up | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut

Waking up | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut One Shot. 18+. MINORS DNI.

Word count: 1.17K

Content warning: fem!reader x Kylo; zero plot just smut, piv (unprotected), a bit sleepy I guess?, fainting mentioned

Author’s note: This is a 'hey, I'm alive' short shot (although I do have a cold). Next part of Insufferable in the works, meanwhile I hope you enjoy this one ;)

Y/N woke up in the middle of the night.

She didn't remember much. Last night, there was a fight, a scramble with the Resistance somewhere at the base, and she fainted amidst the chaos. It was Kylo who took her into his own arms and, after Y/N had been checked by the medics, brought her to his own chambers. She came to in his arms, and slept in them later on, feeling safer than ever before. It was their first time feeling each other's bodies up close, and despite the exhaustion of the battle, other things did come to their minds. After a day they both spent on exchanging tense glances, as if unsure if they should act on their desires, she fell asleep again… But not for long.

Kylo was sitting in the armchair next to the bed with his shirt open, reading something on his datapad despite the late hour. When he saw her stir, however, he immediately set it aside.

"Finally," he said with clear relief, setting the black, silky sheets aside. Y/N slowly rubbed her eyes, trying to make them work after the nap. She almost felt like she woke up in another dimension.

"Come here," he said quietly, then kissed her gently on the lips as if waking the Sleeping Beauty. Y/N smiled at that, but she knew it was barely scratching the surface. Such light kisses were not what Kylo was known for.

"Do you ever sleep?" she asked as she kept on rubbing her eyes. Kylo let out a short chuckle and soon enough, his hands were on her, unable to stay at his sides.

She suddenly felt him starting to unbutton her shirt. She didn't oppose, quite the contrary - she was grateful, because she felt like she was sweating excessively from the heat of the nap, and yet her pounding head remembered that she had absolutely nothing on under her shirt.

Kylo seemed to have noticed it at the same time. When she felt that nothing was covering her chest anymore, she heard his heavy breathing. It happened and she couldn't even hide behind her hair. Y/N almost jumped when she felt his icy cold hand between her breasts. He didn't even have his gloves on.

"Don't worry, you're safe… Can you breathe normally?" he asked with genuine concern, so different from his usual demeanour.

"Definitely not now," she replied, gasping for breath. He felt her heart beating beneath his hand and he couldn't explain why he couldn't take his hand away. He moved it slightly to the left breast, which had consequences for both of them.

The excitement surged through them with redoubled force. Y/N unconsciously tightened her grip on the sheets, lifting her legs just a little.

"Your heart is beating too fast," Kylo gasped, and then she finally managed to open her eyes. Kylo's huge frame was leaning over her, without his helmet, and he was piercing her with such eyes that made her feel small and completely exposed.

"If you keep on doing this… It will," she looked at his hand, still on her bare breast, "it will beat even faster."

Another shiver ran through her, and a strange, tingling sensation appeared in her lower abdomen. Kylo slowly, with little pressure, moved his hand from her breast, along her belly, to the waistband of her pants. He pulled it down and, although she couldn't see it from her position, it was too low for any decency.

The situation was clear to both of them: the tension that had been growing between them for a long time was finally going to explode. He froze in that position for a moment.

"Do you feel okay?" he whispered.

She looked at his hand, then back at him with a soft smile.

"I do… But you could make it better."

A new wave of excitement washed over both of them as Kylo climbed back onto the bed and hovered over her.

He used the Force to take her clothes off of her after she gave him an encouraging nod. Soon, there was no turning back. She lay before him, fully exposed, shackled by so many emotions she couldn't shake off. Something stirred in Kylo as he stared at her shamelessly, admiring what he had revealed. He had been thinking about this moment ever since he met her years ago.

He raised both of his hands to place them on either side of her, keeping himself comfortably above her. He could see that she liked it as she ogled him from underneath, trying to catch a glimpse of his partially exposed chest.

When Kylo lowered himself to kiss her once again, everything around them disappeared. Flesh began to rub against flesh, and their hearts began to beat in the same rhythm. Y/N buried her hands in his hair, and with one hand he lifted her by the waist, holding her as close to him as possible. When the frenzy subsided enough for her to regain some rational thought, after what felt like an eternity, she tore her mouth away from him and pulled his head towards her.

"I want you, Kylo," she whispered straight into his ear. She made Kylo feel things that he never thought were possible.

He moved closer to her ear, brushing his lips against it and whispered, "You'll get what you want."

He removed the hand that was supporting her waist and moved it to her right knee. He slowly moved one of her legs to the side, then did the same with the other. There was another burst of emotions, and she clutched the sheets again. She closed her eyes, waiting for him to move.

He used the Force again, this time to get rid of his own pants. Y/N knew he was ready and she couldn't wait. Everything else was forgotten, the only thing that mattered to them was the other person. Kylo moved his hand under her waist again to lift her a little, and placed his other hand on the headboard of the bed. He lowered himself, she moaned, and the clock struck midnight. He filled her up to the brim, much larger than she was, able to hold her like a doll. She didn't even expect him to feel half as good as he did.

Kylo waved a hand, putting out all the lights in the room. Their other senses went crazy. He couldn't believe the effect her moan had on him when he jerked forward for the first time. The lack of light captured the imagination of both of them, stirring the blood in their veins.

No one could hear those heavy breaths, moans and whispers, the rustle of the sheets, not even the moon was a witness to them, hidden somewhere behind the clouds from which white fluff was falling. It was just the two of them, darkness and pleasure like they had never experienced before.

And Y/N had a feeling it wasn't the last time she could wake up to this.

[pemiski]

tags primary school teacher! sae x fem! reader, reader wears heels, workplace romance, fluff, spreading my ‘if sae wasn’t a football player he would’ve been good with kids’ agenda

author’s note if you’ve seen this before yes you have actually, i just figured a reblog wasn’t the best format so here’s a repost oopsie

“Ugh.” You rock the snack machine for what feels like the hundredth time, but the stubborn chocolate bar stays lodged behind the glass. Normally, you'd give it a few kicks but A) you're wearing brand new heels, and there’s no way you're sacrificing them for a sugar craving, and B) it’s nap time for your kids, and considering how hard it was to get them asleep in the first place, you’re not willing to deal with the aftermath of waking them up again, and especially not by whacking a huge metal box right outside of the classroom.

Out of nowhere, a hand reaches past you, giving the machine two rough, effortless knocks. The bar tumbles down like it was never stuck to begin with.

“Oh.” You blink, turning to thank your savior, but the words fizzle out the second your eyes meet the flurry of children behind him.

“Thanks,” you manage to mumble, your fingers frozen mid-air as you grip the candy, your eyes unable to sustain is stare.

“Don't mention it.” He straightens the lanyard around his neck, having gone askew due to the impact.

Without another word, he’s already turning back to the group of kids trailing behind him, stretching his arms behind the backs of the ones closest to him to gently push them forward.

“Alright, come on. Let’s go.”

“Hello, Miss L/N!” Leah, one of the little girls, chirps brightly from the line.

“Hi, Leah.” You smile automatically, but your gaze is still stuck on the back of Sae’s head, and the way he holds hands with one of the kids who reached for him, and calmly listens to the way another animatedly talks to him with a soft smile.

You blink, as if snapping yourself out of a haze.

Get a grip, you urge yourself.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen him around, not even close. In fact, ever since he transferred to the school at the start of summer term, it’s been almost impossible not to notice Sae Itoshi. The whole faculty has been whispering about the new 3rd grade history teacher like he’s some rare species.

But for all the talk, you’ve hardly ever exchanged more than a few polite words with him. Good morning, thank you, have a nice day. That’s about the extent of your thrilling repertoire.

Honestly, you’re not the kind of girl who gets flustered by a little knight-in-shining-armor routine, especially not in front of students. And especially, especially not in front of the young, gossipy, nosy ones.

Still...

You steal one last glance down the hall, just in time to catch the broad line of his back disappearing around the corner.

His lanyard is still slightly askew.

God help you.

@pemiski 2025 - all rights reserved. I do not authorize any reposting translating or modifying of my content on any platform

[sugarlywhispers]

idk why, but the thought of Bakugou Katsuki and his s/o's first time making him so fuckin' nervous to the point his lil–fuck you!, very big and monstruos friend down there it's not cooperating with him when the time for the deed came. He has dreamt and imagined this moment so many times, apparently his dick couldn't believe this was actually happening.

"Fucking, stupid, traitor..." He curses, strocking his own dick almost with anger now, trying to make it go up again. The fucking fun didn't even started yet!

You want to laugh, as you watch his naked back. He is kneeling, his body away from yours that's laying naked in the middle of his huge bed surrounded by his pillows, your hair a glorious halo around them. The imagery itself could even be considered Saint like; an image it would make any man fall to his knees and pray for. Fuck, Katsuki is fucking praying right now.

Another curse leaves his mouth and you definitely want to laugh. Not in a bad way, definitely not mocking him. This things happen sometimes, you want to reassure him. Sometimes the desire is so strong the human body just... shuts down. It's okay...

But you know if you say something, or even breathe in a way he considers different or petty, it's over. This whole situation, all the steps you have finally climbed together, everything would be over.

"Tsuki-..."

"NO. I can, I am going to do it. Just..."

His voice. It's barely noticeable, but you can hear it. All this time taking your time to actually get to know him helps you realize. It hurts.

So you approach him from behind, your hand first caressing his back and shoulder.

"You're gonna hurt yourself, love."

The strocking sound stops and he sighs, deep and tired, almost choked up. He leans back against your body when he feels you right behind him, head thrown back a bit looking up at the ceiling. You're both naked, and neither you or him had ever felt such normalcy or content just by feeling each other like that.

"I wanted this to be fucking special... Not this fucking emb-..."

You grab his face in your hands, the tenderness making him melt completely as he turns towards you to make the position more comfortable.

"It is special, simply because it's us." He doesn't answer back, but the look in his eyes say enough.

He is utterly and stupidly and madly in love with you.

You smile. "Come lay down with me."

He looks defeated, but he obeys. You both lay on your sides one in front of another, impossibly closer. Legs intertwined, torsos touching, noses kissing each other, breathes colliding and mixing in the scarse space between you. One of his big and heroic arms is around your waist, calloused fingers caressing your soft back. One of your hands is slowly and softly scratching the back of his head, making him doze off a bit, relaxing him in a way no one had ever done.

And he gets it there.

You're the one. You're the love of his life.

You both take a small nap, apparently Katsuki hadn't been sleeping well for the past few days. So when he wakes up, he feels brand new... and he fucks the daylights out of you.

Y vivieron felices por siempre.

Fin.

[mymoodwriting]

Because You're Mine

Female!Reader x Werewolf!SKZ

Genre: A/B/O

Warning: Suppressants, Sedatives, PTSD, Trauma, Harassment, Threats, Verbal Abuse, Insomnia

Words: 3.2K

Chapter Twelve

(Prev//Next) (@starillusion13 @salfetkablog @youngunknownwitch @loveforred @hydroyaksha @meowmeeps @azazel-nyx @luvyev @stellasays45 @littlebaby-bunbun @bangchansgirlsblog @puppyminnnie @bahablastplz @lemonn015 @blankperiodssn @stellasays45 @kkamismom12 @rxlvvrz @riri53 @stressymessyana @aalexyuuuhm @jutfelixdwae @btsgangleader @tsunderelino)

Prompt: With omegas completely removed from society, they needed their own communities and institutions to grow. All your life you had lived and gone to school alongside your fellow omegas, and orphaned alphas. You had managed to keep yourself together, but now at the university level, keeping your secret had grown impossible. You had to face your fears and make friends with an alpha eventually, and now was the time.

“… was he being serious…?”

Ever since Chan had offered to take you off campus it was the only thing you could think about. A real outing seemed almost too good to be true, and that eventually caused doubts. Maybe it was all a lie, and actually some kind of trap. You didn’t have any details about where you’d be going or when. It was driving you crazy, but all you could do was wait. You went to class and took your suppressants, not even asking Chan for an update.  

“Good, you’re all here.”

Chan stepped into the living room where you were studying with the others. He seemed quite happy and you immediately knew this was the news you had been waiting for.

“Tomorrow we’ll be going on a little field trip.”

“Oh, what kind of field trip?” Jisung asked. “Like a sleepover in the library.”

“No, we’re going somewhere else. We’ll be traveling off campus.”

“Wait, off campus?” Felix questioned. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what you think. We’re gonna go somewhere no other student here has gone, but it’ll be our little secret, understood?”

The others were quite excited, and you were too, but you didn’t show it. Your doubts were still present. Chan told you it would be a one day outing, so no need to pack anything. You could take a small bag with you with a few things if you wanted, but you really didn’t need to bring anything along. The day of the trip you were all led to the edge of campus, a huge van before you. Originally you thought this outing was meant to be you and Chan, but you were grateful all the others would be coming along.

“We don’t have to go.” Chan commented. “If you rather go back to the dorm-”

“No. I’m doing this.”

“Okay. Although you do need to wear a blindfold.”

“Seriously?”

“All of us do technically.”

“Fine.”

You got into the van, going into the back and sitting between Jisung and Felix. Chan was the one to help you put on the blindfold, telling you to relax and take it easy. Jisung took your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You did jump a bit when the door shut, but you took a breath to calm yourself. Soon enough you felt the van moving, curious as to where you would be going, but just having to wait. With the blindfold on, and tinted windows, you simply sat in darkness with no sense of time. You began to feel sleepy, slumping down in your seat and trying to get cozy. A little nap wouldn’t hurt.

♥♥♥♥♥

“Guys, we’re here.”

You felt a light shake from your shoulder, groaning and slowly starting to wake up. The blindfold was removed for you and then you squinted your eyes as you adjusted to the light. You noticed the other alphas yawning and taking off blindfolds, realizing everyone had been kept in the dark. You got some help stepping out of the van, stretching your limbs. You took a nap but you felt like you had slept for longer. As you were waking up you finally remembered what was going on and then you realized where you were.

“Is this… real…?”

Your surroundings were filled with buildings and people walking around. It seemed that you were standing in a real town. You had only seen such things in movies and TV shows, so this was an incredible sight.

“You can’t tell because you’re on suppressants.” Seungmin mentioned. “But everyone here is either an alpha or omega.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“We move to places like this once we graduate.”

“Although us alphas still have other duties.” Minho added. “So we tend to go in and out. Not too often though, I promise.”

“You do get to live a normal life in the end.” Chan said. “You have nothing to worry about here.”

Your own nose couldn’t confirm the status of those around you, but a while later Jisung let you know it was true. As the others talked your wonder began to fade, realizing something else was going on here.

“This whole place is fake, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“Just like the school campus. It looks spacious and open, but you surely can only go so far. There must be some kind of perimeter around this place that’s guarded, right?”

“Yes, but you’ll never really know that. You can do what you want knowing you’re safe. Everyone’s happy here.”

“It’s still a cage.”

“Wait, I have a question.” Jisung spoke up. “Will we all move to a place like this together?”

“Yes, we surely will.”

“That sounds great!” Jisung took your hand. “We get to grow old together!”

“So… I know the alphas are agents and that’s their job, but I see a lot of stores around us.” Felix commented. “Who’s running them?”

“The agent thing isn’t a full time job.” Hyunjin explained. “So the stores and run by alphas and omegas.”

“Wait, I can get a job here?”

“If you want to, it’s not really necessary, you would earn a salary and all that, but you can choose to fill your time with something else too.”

“What if I wanted to be a doctor?” You suddenly asked.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t. You’d probably still need to do more studying after graduation, but I don’t doubt there would be a doctor around to take you under their wing.”

You had killed the mood a bit with your words, but Jeongin quickly changed things around as he suggested you all explore the town together and get some tasty snacks. You all stuck together as a group, going into shops and enjoying yourselves. Although as you took everything in, a question came to mind.

“You said this town was all alphas and omegas, but why aren’t there any betas?”

“They’re not part of the OCPD.”

“What does that…”

You suddenly realized that despite the calm atmosphere, there were cameras everywhere. This wasn’t just some glorified cage where freedom was an illusion, but you were actually under surveillance 24/7. Anything you did was being monitored at all times, and surely it was the OCPD keeping an eye on things. You kept it to yourself, but you had to admit this place wasn’t so bad. It was nice, like a breath of fresh air, but knowing this was fake left a sour taste in your mouth. Then again, you didn’t know what the real world was like, so you didn’t know how this place compared. At least you were glad to know what came after graduation.

You all agreed to get some lunch at this cute little dinner, having some ice cream for dessert. There was still more to do, but Chan said this was where the outing ended. You were expected to be back soon, and now was the time to go. When you returned to the van you were blindfolded once more. You thought you’d be able to stay up for the trip back, but the food made you rather sleepy, so you wound up taking a nap again. It wasn’t until you were back on campus that you were woken up. To a degree it was nice to be back in a familiar place, but your mind still lingered on that town. That was your future, and didn’t exactly bring you joy.

“What’s wrong?” Hyunjin questioned. “Do you feel okay?”

“Huh? I’m fine… I guess…”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer.”

“I didn’t expect much anyway. It’s just kinda weird to know there’s this fake happily ever after waiting for me when I finish university.”

“You don’t have to say it like that.” Changbin mentioned.

“Sorry… I guess it’s dawning on me this wasn’t a real outing… not like I had thought.”

“It was safer.” Minho said. “And you learned something new. Just don’t forget this stays between us.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Do you really want to see the outside world?” Chan suddenly asked.

You couldn’t help but laugh. In hindsight, you should have known this outing was never going to take you out into the real world. The OCPD did so much to protect omegas and keep them away from normal society, there was no way you’d just get to go out into the world. Even now as Chan mentioned you just laughed. It was what you really wanted, but you knew you weren’t going to get it.

“Of course I do, but I know that’s just a fantasy.”

“Maybe… or maybe I could make it a reality.”

“What?”

“I could talk to the headmaster. They agreed to this trip, maybe I can convince them to let us take another.”

“You’re joking. There’s no way such a thing would be allowed.”

“Not for free of course.”

“And what kind of price is there to pay?”

“Well, for starters, you’d need to get off your suppressants.”

“Huh?”

“If you really wanted to go out into the world, you’d have to experience it properly. No one uses suppressants in the real world, so it would be a waste to take you like this.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“I’m serious about talking to the headmaster and trying, that is if you do as I ask.”

“Hm… what if you don’t convince the headmaster?”

“Then I suppose you just go back to taking your suppressants until you let them go or it stops working. Either way, you don’t have anything to lose here. What do you say, do we have a deal?”

“… what’s your angle here?”

“To get you off your suppressants, it’s not good for you in the long run. Besides that, I think it’s fair you see the real world so you can properly compare it to the fake one we just visited. Maybe we should all have the chance to see the real world at least once.”

“… yeah… fine, you have a deal. I’ll stop with the suppressants for now.”

“Alright, and this stays between us as well. If anyone else finds out, it will ruin everything.”

“I know.”

A part of you realized maybe it was stupid to agree so easily, since your half of the deal was to stop taking your suppressants. You found yourself staring at the pill bottle, but refusing to take any. If you really had the chance to see the real world, you couldn’t let something like this get in your way. So you hid the pill bottle in your room so you wouldn’t think about it and just went on with your life. Of course it would take a while for the pills to wear off, and you didn’t even notice any changes along the way. It wasn’t until you walked into the dorm one day and the sweet smell of brownies was in the air. You immediately followed it to the kitchen to see Felix washing some dishes.

“Oh! You came back just in time, the brownies should be ready soon.”

“They smell divine.”

“And they taste just as good.”

This wasn’t the first time Felix made brownies. He enjoyed baking and those brownies were legendary. Although this time around you noticed the smell was more prominent and enjoyable. Your suppressants had surely worn off by now. You hadn’t even noticed until that moment, and suddenly you were able to distinguish scents all over the dorm. It had surely been a while since you were back to normal, yet your sense hadn’t overwhelmed you. The days were just normal, as if you were still on your suppressants. Maybe you didn’t need them at all anymore. Those thoughts plagued you until Felix set down the tray of brownies before you.

“They need to cool down first, so no touching.”

“I’ll do my best.”

You enjoyed some brownies while you went over your assignments. Now that you knew your senses were back you paid more attention to things, even if only at a subconscious level. So you knew when Chan got back as you heard his keys jingle and could smell him outside the door.

“I’m back.”

“Chan.”

“Hm?”

“My suppressants have worn off.”

“Really? And how do you feel?”

“I’m doing alright. It’s honestly not so bad.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“So… about that outing…”

“The headmaster did approve it.”

“Wait, really!”

“Yes, but only for a few hours, and just this once. Since you’ve kept up your end of the deal, I’ll get a date set.”

“That sounds great.”

For this you were way more excited since all your senses were intact and you knew you’d be stepping into the real world this time. You tried not to bother Chan about it, but you asked every other day when the outing was. He just told you he was working on it and asked you to be patient for a little while longer. Then you got the big news and were told to prepare. The trip would be somewhat the same. No need to pack anything, and you would be driven out like before. The only real difference was that you’d be leaving before daybreak. That seemed to let you know it was a rather long drive, but you could manage. Although you were upset that you still needed to be blindfolded, but at least you were in the van.

Since it was so early most of the others were half asleep, but you were full of energy. Even if you couldn’t see anything with tinted windows and blindfolds you kinda wanted to stay up. That was the plan, yet once you were on the road you started to feel sleepy. You shook your head, fighting the drowsiness, but this didn’t feel normal. Not long ago you were wide awake, and now you were yawning and feeling sleepy. You mumbled Jisung’s name, but ultimately passed out as you slumped down in your seat.

♥♥♥♥♥

“… y/n… y/n… wake up, we’re here.”

You slowly opened your eyes to see morning light creeping into the van. You climbed out and yawned, stretching your limbs as you regained your senses. For a moment you thought back to what had happened before, but then you remembered where you were. This was the real world. Your eyes immediately took in your surroundings. You were in another town, but right away you could tell things were different. The area didn’t seem to be as clean as or as pristine as the other town, but it certainly looked worn and lived in. At the moment the streets were mostly empty, given the fact the sun was barely rising. Then you took in a deep breath, noting the air wasn’t as clean as you were used to.

“So… what do we do? What can we do?”

“Just like before, we can explore.” Hyunjin said. “Let’s see what’s around.”

After doing a headcount and reminding everyone to stay close, Chan led the way into town. He had his phone and a paper map in hand, keeping in mind where they were and how much time they had. There was a nice stillness in the atmosphere. The world around you was slowly waking up and you were there to experience it. Although even in the early hours of the day there was still life. The smell of bread soon caught your attention and you asked to investigate. Not long after the group had come to a bakery. Eating warm freshly baked bread for breakfast was such a wonderful treat. It wasn’t your first time eating such a thing, but there was a different taste here. Not a bad thing, but certainly something you couldn’t describe.

While you continued exploring more and more people appeared on the streets, and more places came to life. The slow build of a crowd didn’t worry you, but you did realize something else. All the scents were overlapping, one not really overpowering another. You couldn’t really tell who was an alpha or a beta, but you were intrigued nonetheless. This was the first time you had ever been exposed to beta scents. It wasn’t until you all went into a little shop that you actually got a better idea. As you browsed the items someone stood a few steps away, examining something. Their scent hit you and you immediately knew it wasn’t an alpha or omega. This type of scent wasn’t imposing, it was calm and even, creating a sense of peace.

Those scents out in the world mixing with the alphas was probably what made it easy to freely walk around for you without feeling nervous. Of course you were more used to alpha scents now, but the betas were certainly helping. In the end you got some small souvenirs and ventured out into the streets again. Things were louder than usual, and that’s when you realized there was something going on. Soon there were cheers and screaming, and you all discovered a festival was taking place this morning. Certain streets had been closed off to allow for a parade to pass through. Without asking or thinking you took Jisung’s hand, and grabbed Felix, then the three of you were running towards the crowds to see what was going on from up close.

“Wait!”

You were too excited to listen to anything else. You wanted to experience something new, something real. That gave you the energy to push into the crowd and make your way to the front of the barricade. There you saw what you had only ever seen on TV. Wonderfully decorated floats rolled past as people danced and threw candy and other items onto the cheering crowds. You weren’t sure what was being celebrated, but you were captivated by the colors and energy. This all looked so fun and you were truly enjoying yourself. That is until you felt someone grab you. Immediately you assumed it was Chan or one of the others, but when you looked over you found yourself face to face with a stranger.

“Uh… can I help you…?”

“Maybe. I’ve never picked up on such a nice scent.”

“Oh… um… thanks.”

“Tell me, are you mated?”

“Excuse me!?” You yanked yourself free. “That’s none of your business!”

“I’m just saying, regardless, I can offer you a good job. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t go to waste.”

“I’m not interested.”

You stepped closer to Jisung and Felix, but that’s when you realized this stranger wasn’t alone either. A few others had surrounded the three of you, and now your resolve was starting to crack. You weren’t sure what to do.

“I suggest you reconsider.” The stranger’s eyes glowed red. “For your own sake and your friends.”

You got tense seeing those eyes staring down at you, hands desperately reaching for Jisung. Things were going so well. You thought to scream for help, but you didn’t know if that would actually do anything. The crowd around you was loud and distracted, maybe no one would even notice if you got dragged off. Only now did you realize maybe you shouldn’t have run off, let alone drag Jisung and Felix along. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t think straight, freezing up as fear took hold of you. It wasn’t fully you, but you couldn’t do anything as the alpha was paralyzing you. So all you could hope for was a miracle.

[kakao-lovey]

── .✦ The best subliminals of all time ++ my results

Hi Lovies! I've been a fan of subliminals since the moment I got access to the internet, and can confidently say I know my way around them. Note, though, that I did take IRL steps to achieve these results besides subs; however, I think I can give a huge chunk of the credit to them for the luck, discipline, and motivation I needed. So, in no particular order:

I Want It I Got It's A+ mindset subliminal

Not only are IWIGII's subs extremely powerful, they cover all bases. Mindset is a huge factor in achieving academic success, and it's something not often covered in your standard 'Good grades' subliminals. ۶ৎ My results (Last term):

~ A term average of 90% ~ Chemistry 98% overall, Biology 96% overall, Physics 85% overall ~ Maths went from 43% (Term 1) to 92% (Term 4) ~ Best overall (Whole year) in English and German first language ~ A bronze scroll for academics:

2. Baejin Cafe's emergency clear skin sub

Baejin cafe is my favourite subliminal maker of all time, and this isn't the last time you'll hear me praise their subs. They are intensely powerful, and really go down to every last detail. Here's a snippet out of the benefits: "your skin literally looks poreless, completely even skin tone (both face and body), permanently concealed skin, blemishes don’t even exist in your dictionary, one listen of this is equivalent to the best skincare routine applied for years; one word about your skin is FLAWLESS. your skin is absolutely clear forever; regardless of whatever you eat, the season or anything you do!! your skin is like you have the healthiest diet ever, healthiest water intake and the most perfect skincare routine, completely clear and clean skin throughout, your skin literally looks reflective cause it’s so clear ♡"

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(No filter used, images are two months apart) [Image ID: Two photos, one taken before listening to the subliminal of a face with inflammatory acne, the second taken after listening to the subliminal with clear skin] 3. Mii - Too much money.

A classic, but popular for a reason. Just one or two listens are almost guaranteed to get you your desired amount of money.

۶ৎ My results

~ Allowance bumped up from 100 NAD (5 USD) to 200 NAD (10 USD) per month ~ Received money for my academic awards, and as a gift for my birthday

[Image ID: A handful of Namibian dollar banknotes] ~1000 NAD (50 USD) (Sorry for poor image quality) 4. Baejin café - Success energy

This is an all-in-one, listen-to-it-while-you-sleep subliminal with heavily detailed affirmations for everything in your life to go perfectly. It can be used as a booster, to manifest a specific achievement/item/person, or to play in the background to sprinkle some cinnamon-sugar on your daily life. ۶ৎ My results ~ Found a kind, heavily overqualified doctor to prescribe me a medication I really needed ~ Got a job as a waiter for a ball, did it perfectly and got a letter of recommendation ~ Won all three of my division's squash games despite having played for only a few months ~ Manifested lots of small things, gifts, food, to find lost objects ~ Found out I am inheriting an insane amount of money when I turn 25 5. Baejin cafe - Mental health + healthy lifestyle

Whenever I feel depressed or overstimulated, I have a nap with this looped in the background, and I wake up feeling fresh and happy. ۶ৎ My results ~ All of my toxic ex-friends left me (Which may sound like a bad thing at first, but it really helped my mental health overall) ~ I recovered from around five months of hypomanic-depressive mood swings ~ I recovered from a very bad thing that has to do with food ~ I became actually happy with my life <3 That's all! Thanks for being here, and keep me updated if you decide to use any of these subs!

[ireadwithmyears]

My Heart is Yours, and so are my Brothers

Pairing: Tbb Echo/fem reader

Word count: 6.5 K

Gift for: @eclec-tech for the @cloneficgiftexchange 2024 life day exchange

Prompt: clone asks reader to be part of his family

Tags/warnings: Light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, mentioned past familial issues/toxicity, (I tried to keep it vague), insecurities, domestic/romantic fluff, found family, soft and cosy life day feels

Summary: You have always felt like you don’t fit within your own family. Echo is determined to show you that in his, your place is not something you have to earn, and the love they show you is nothing short of unconditional. And if that takes you overworking yourself, a life day baking mishap, and your beloved scooping you up and offering out a helping hand as soon as you show signs of beginning to fall, well... sometimes, that’s just how it goes.

Authors note: This was written as a gift for Amber, who has become such a good friend to me and ironically, is also my usual beta. We had, actually, briefly joked and giggled over the idea of one of us being paired with the others prompts... until it actually happened. So, I would also like to thank Carol: @clonethirstingisreal for betaing this work. It was a huge relief knowing that you could step in for this one, as I didn’t want to ruin Amber’s surprise by making her also be the one who has to edit it, because how mean would that be? This story can also be read on my ao3(check pinned for link) and I truly had so much fun writing it. Dare I say, one of the writing highlights of my year 😉 if you enjoy, please consider dropping a reblog. Sharing is always so so appreciated, as well as comments. Happy holidays, and happy life day🎄❄️

Waking up to the piercing shriek of your smoke detector, you think, your brain still groggy and slow from your impromptu nap, is definitely not a good sign.

Your heart is pounding, rattling furiously within the confines of your chest, your mind and body still trying to comprehend going from out cold on the couch to frantically running around the kitchen like a maniac, swiftly opening the oven door to discover what is no doubt the source of the alarm’s high pitched wails

It’s only after using a hastily dampened towel to smother the flames, vigorously flapping it 

around to beat out the lingering smoke, that you’re still hammering heart rate finally begins to slow, and you allow yourself to take a drawn-out, steady breath, forcing yourself to calm as you anxiously peer into the oven.

You can tell, just from the acrid stench, that it’s bad. 

Still, you’re not prepared to find the batch of freshly made cookies, each patiently dusted with a generous helping of sugar so that each chocolate surface appears as if snowflakes had found their landing place there, are nothing but crumbling, blackened crisps against the stark white of the baking sheet in the tray.

You shouldn’t have sat down, you think, strangely detached as with shaky, oven mitt-covered hands, you remove the tray from the oven, setting it down on the counter and gazing at what was supposed to be your life day offering to Echo’s family, to express your gratitude at their generosity for inviting you to their festivities.

It meant more to you than they would ever know. 

They didn’t know that your own family looked down on you with disappointment. They didn’t know that you had fled to Pabu precisely with the intent to walk away from them in an effort to save yourself from more hurt. They didn’t know that you, stupidly and still with the embarrassing desperation of a child who might do anything to earn even just a smile of approval from those around her, want, need them to approve of you, and not just in the way that family members do because she’s their  brother’s partner, but in a way that feels like they genuinely like you, and actually want to have you around.

But regardless, they still showed up at your door. Hunter, who you’ve only shared passing greetings with and who has, up until this point, been virtually a mutual acquaintance, and Omega, who despite having only caught glimpses of her around the island when she takes her hound out for a walk, had beamed at you, bright eyed and familiar, as if you had known each other for years.

It had touched you, and Hunter’s evident warm and sincere invite to their Life Day celebrations had made you just as excited as it did become a source of anxiety over the following weeks.

Nights where you should have been sleeping, instead were spent tossing and turning, trying to plan out every aspect. What you would say, what you would do, what you would bring to express your thanks to them.

Well, here it was, you think, suddenly grim. All your planning had amounted to what was now laid out before you in a charred, stinking heap, served on a tray.

Perhaps, if you were thinking logically, you would have shaken your head, let out a sigh of discontent before dumping the burnt cookies into the compost, giving yourself five minutes to take a break, then rolled up your sleeves, set your shoulders, and jumped right back into making a second batch, being extra careful to pay attention, never straying from focussing on your task.

Unfortunately, though, you weren’t, at present, thinking logically in the slightest. Thanks to the lack of sleep you had so desperately tried to ignore until it creeped up on you when you had collapsed onto the couch once the cookies were in the oven, and the stubbornly persistent overwhelm that you had convinced yourself you weren’t actually feeling, which had worked, at least until now.

Until you look down once more to survey the mess that had come out of a whole afternoon’s work, that you had so diligently, with both nervous and eager anticipation, been fretting over to make the perfect gift, the façade of composure, of pretending that the anxiety that had been stirring in your stomach for weeks was, actually, just excitement, cracks. And once it does, it’s easy for the whole thing to come down, crumbling around you as if it’s as fragile as the chipped and breaking edges of the cookies on the tray in front of you.

So, instead of reacting reasonably, your actions fuelled by logic, your response is to turn, press your face into your baking apron, and burst into tears.

It’s silly, you know, from the very first sob that claws its way up your throat despite your valiant attempt to stop it, that your reaction is so, so unjustified given the situation. They’re just cookies. They just got burnt. A new batch can be made and somewhere, deep down, you know all of this. 

But well, your mother always had a habit of calling you overly sensitive as a child, punctuating that remark with a signature roll of her eyes. Your father would pipe up, in a tone that probably meant to sound more encouraging but just ended up coming across as condescending, “you need to grow some thicker skin, kid.”

This is solid, concrete proof that this particular piece of advice had never truly been heeded, or, if you’re honest, had never really been understood to begin with.

Your breath hitches in your throat, because the desire to push back the tide is still present, if not to stop, then at least to muffle, to not hear the discomforting, ugly sounds you make when you cry. Still, the tears fall, and quiet, broken whimpers and sniffles fall from your lips anyway.

And then, because apparently this day just seeks to prove how absolutely bad your luck is, Echo takes this moment to walk through the door of your shared small house.

You hear the sound of an umbrella being folded, boots being rhythmically stamped against the doormat as Echo steps inside, evidently trying to rid his boots of the dried mud that gets clumped together in the creases, so common this time of year on Pabu, and the quiet hiss of the door as it slides back into place behind him.

Then, in a murmur that carries from the small alcove into your kitchen, he calls your name and instantly, you freeze. For some reason, you believe that if you can just stand as still as possible, if you can bite down on your lip hard enough and not make a single sound, not even a breath, he won’t see you, won’t know that you still get upset and cry over little, seemingly inconsequential things like this, which is completely ridiculous, you know. But still, you’ve already established that right now, your actions are dictated by nothing more than pure instinct, and, at least today, your instinct is incredibly off target.

There’s a brief pause, the sound of Echo bending down, hastening to remove his boots, then a quick, light pitter patter of footsteps against the floor as he moves through the space to find you.

There’s a soft breath, an oh of realization as he steps through the threshold of the kitchen, standing completely still as he observes, pausing to take in, what must be, quite the sight before him. You, on the other hand, don’t look, don’t want to see the mixture of both pity and confusion that surely is displayed in his eyes. So you don’t, keeping your face covered with your hands, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“Oh, cyar,” he breathes, and his voice isn’t mocking or disappointed or underlined with the sharp bite of disapproval, but instead it’s soft. It’s warm and smooth which only serves to remind you of the honeyed hue within his golden eyes whenever he looks at you and it’s soft, so warm, and so soft that your resolve melts in the sincere, empathetic face of it, and you’re moving towards him before he’s even finished speaking.

“Come here, ner kar’ta,” he says, his voice a low, gentle murmur as he opens his arms, just in time for you to come scrambling, throwing yourself into them with a muffled sob against the material of his sweater, pressing your face against his chest and clinging onto any part of him you can reach. There’s a soft puff of breath that you feel lightly ruffle your hair before his lips gently press against your forehead, lingering there as he whispers “That’s my girl. See? I have you. We’re okay”

His scomp arm is a heavy, familiar weight as it runs along the small of your back, settling at your waist as he guides you closer. He doesn’t needlessly comment. He doesn’t pepper you with questions or demand an explanation of what’s wrong.

Instead, he simply tucks your head beneath  his chin, his hand gentle as it lingers to brush through and stroke your hair. He holds you in his arms, slightly swaying on the spot, the slow, repetitive back-and-forth as he rocks you, settling your uneasy heart as you sniffle, quietly allowing yourself to give into the tears. 

The only sounds that fall from Echo’s lips aren’t so much words as they are just familiar, soothing noises. The soft “shh,” as his hand gently cups the back of your head or the gentle, barely there kisses, lightly scattered across the top of your head and the quiet, steady exhalation of breath that you become more and more aware of as your tears begin to slow.

“Hey, beautiful,” he says, his voice a low, gentle rumble as he pulls back slightly, noticing you peeking up at him through watery eyes and stroking his hand along your cheek, brushing away your tears with his thumb. “Rough day?”

A sound that could either be classified as a laugh or a small, broken sob is pulled from your lips as you look up at him, nodding your head. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, your cheeks flooding with heat. “I didn’t mean to react like that, I just.”

“Shh,” he lightly cuts you off by leaning forward, lips a soft brush against yours as he lingers there, warm, golden eyes intent as they search yours, taking in your expression, the drying tear tracks on your cheeks, the dark circles beneath your eyes.

“When’s the last time you got a full night's sleep?” he asks, and the question feels so off-topic that for a few seconds, you blink up at him, looking bewildered before you shake your head, shrugging.

“I, I don’t I um?”

Apparently, your hesitation and seeming inability to come up with a suitable answer is confirmation enough, and Echo, making a small, exasperated gesture with his scomp, clicks his tongue with disapproval.

“That’s what I thought,” he sighs, a hand running over the back of his head as he looks down at you. “Right, well, let me worry about cleaning up here. I want you to at least sit down and get some rest.”

“I can’t,” you sputter, your eyes widening. “Echo, me taking a nap is the exact reason why all of this,” you gesture towards the burnt cookies on the counter, “happened. I need to get to work on a new batch so that I have something to bring over to your family’s house for dinner tomorrow.”

“And we will,” Echo’s voice is patient, but there’s an underlying, stern edge that’s crept into it that breeches no room for argument as he ushers you into the living room, hand on the small of your back as he guides you over to an armchair. “But, cyar, you’ve just told me that you’ve already taken a nap?” he asks, folding his arms.

“Yeah,” you say, your lips tilted downward in a confused frown as you turn to look up at him. 

“And isn’t a nap supposed to make you feel more well rested afterward?” he asks, the question clearly rhetorical as he takes your chin in his hand, thumb pointedly brushing along the bag beneath one of your eyes. 

The silence he gets in response to that remains uncontested, and he smirks, satisfied in the knowledge that he has you beaten.

“No arguing with me on this one, princess,” he says gruffly, which makes you glare at him even as he lightly pushes your unresisting body down into the armchair, moving to pull out the Ottoman from beneath. “I’m not asking you to sleep. Just rest while I clean up the kitchen. We’ll figure everything else out once I’m finished, okay?” 

“Fine,” you huff, looking up at him with a stubborn set to your jaw before you add “but only if you kiss me first.”

Echo’s chuckle is warm and deep, his eyes soft as he leans down to oblige you, first brushing his lips against your forehead, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, lingering at each spot.

“Now that, I can gladly do,” he murmurs, his voice a soft breath that brushes against your lips before he’s closing the distance, his lips pressing against yours in a warm, tender kiss.

When he pulls back, your eyes flutter open. Echo’s smile is small, but sweet and conveys the infinite amount of affection that he holds for you as he moves, retrieving a neatly folded throw blanket, from where it’s been draped over the back of the couch. He unfolds it, letting you see the depiction of a group of tookas snuggled together in front of a fireplace that’s been illustrated on the soft fabric, before moving back towards you, wrapping it around you, taking his time to make sure that you’re bundled up just right, movements soft and careful as he does.

“Just rest, Cyar’ika,” he reaffirms, pressing one last kiss to the top of your head before straightening, moving back towards the kitchen in long strides. “We’ll sort everything out, I promise.”

And because it’s Echo, and Echo always keeps his promises, you actually believe him.

*

Surprisingly, once you’re sat down and comfortable, you find it easy to, if not fall asleep, simply drift and allow yourself to zone out.

You can faintly hear the sounds of Echo moving around your kitchen. There’s light footsteps, water running as he does the dishes in the sink, the soft, warm rumble of his baritone as he quietly hums an unfamiliar tune. Your eyes drift close, and the next time you let yourself float back into awareness, he’s there, smiling down at you, a beloved pair of your slippers tucked beneath his arm, a steaming mug held out as an offering in his hand.

“Careful,” he cautions you as you eagerly reach for it, making sure it is securely held within your grasp before letting go. “It’s still hot.”

You look down to survey the contents, a smile pulling at the corners of your lips as soon as you register the warm, sweet scent of hot chocolate. He’s piled it high with marshmallows and whip cream, which he’s always rolled his eyes at you for adding.

“I don’t get it,” he would often say with fond exasperation, arms folded across his chest. “Why do you need to add extras? It’s already sweet to begin with.”

Seeing that he has evidently so lovingly prepared it in the way that you enjoy pulls your lips upward into a smile and you beam at him, your eyes lighting up for the first time in what feels like days. 

You grin up at him, indulging yourself in a tiny sip, your eyes closing with delight before you utter a quiet, but sincere thank you. 

“I still think it’s too sweet with all that,” he grumbles, a small, perplexed crinkle between his eyebrows as he sinks to his knees at your feet. “But anything for you, Cyar’ika.”

He gently takes one of your feet in his hands, seeming to contemplate it as he sets the pair of slippers at his side. 

“Have you considered,” he asks idly, scomp carefully resting on your ankle, as with the other hand he curls one of his fingers, lightly pressing his knuckle against the overworked arch of your foot. “That you’ve been doing too much?”

As if to accentuate his words, he slowly begins to rotate his wrist, the drag of his knuckle a gentle, but steady, pressure that instantly causes your eyes to flutter closed. It feels good. It feels wonderful, actually. He’s working with obvious deliberation and care, but he’s also, quite effectively, digging into sore spots and tendons that you didn’t realize you were carrying, and the relief is instantaneous.

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you admit, unable to bring yourself to open your eyes and look down at him. “For them and for you.”

He hums, a quiet understanding as he lightly grasps your Achilles tendon between his thumb and index finger, slow and gentle as he strokes towards your heel. He’s quiet for a moment, remaining completely focused on you, thoughtful as he keeps up with his task.

“Well,” he murmurs, lips twitching upward as he gently pulls at each of your toes, slight tugs to coax tension to release in each. “As nice as that would have been, I think I’ll be much happier helping you bake the second attempt.”

He gives you a rueful grin, easing one of your slippers onto your foot with a small assist from you before moving to repeat his prior treatment with the other.

“You’ll have to teach me, though,” he says, voice apologetic. “I’m afraid I’ve never been much of a baker. But, I’m willing to learn, and hey, we can finally put some of those scomp attachments that Tech has fitted me with to use.”

You laugh softly, your lips pulling upward into a matching smile. Tech, when he had miraculously found his way back to his family, returned needing extensive recovery and physiotherapy, with so many of his bones having been broken or shattered, including in his fingers and hands. To regain the dexterity that he once coveted, he was often found working on some project or another, requiring a constant flow of them to keep his agile and ever working mind occupied until the medics would allow him to walk again.

Crosshair, being Crosshair, had very limited patience, only sitting long enough to allow his brother to fit him with an appropriate cybernetic, fiddling with and rewiring servos to make it more effectively attuned to him. But, once he had started suggesting certain modifications, Crosshair had stomped off, rolling his eyes and tossing over his shoulder “I’m not a droid, Tech. It’s fine, just leave it,” in his seemingly trademark annoyed tone.

Tech had pressed his lips together, and you had wondered, still on the outside and learning Echo’s family as you were, if he was hurt by Crosshair’s vehement rebuttal. Echo, standing beside you, seemed to come to a similar kind of conclusion, but had only stepped forward, laying a hand on Tech’s shoulder, sitting down beside him at his workstation.

“He might be opposed to adding some cool attachments, but I’m not,” Echo declared, giving his brother a light nudge. “What do you say, Tech. Think you can make me something I can use to give Crosshair a good smack?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of practicality,” Tech explained, hands folded in his lap. “Perhaps a flipper or spatula to ease the burden of cooking somewhat.”

His eyes, when he had looked up, were sparkling with amusement, and his lips tilted upward into a small, but evident smile when he had continued by saying, his voice nonchalant, “But I believe your idea also holds certain merit. If you have the patience to let me experiment, I believe we can do both.”

*

Luckily for Tech, Echo seemed to possess an infinite amount of patience to let him fiddle, his scomp sometimes attached, sometimes laying on the table between them, their heads bent low as they quietly conversed with each other. 

Echo was more than content to just sit and talk, of different attachment ideas, their uses both on the field and in simple, daily life, or of everything and nothing. You watched, quiet but observant, as Echo in his casual, straightforward way, brought Tech up to speed on the goings-on of him and his brothers whilst he was gone and inexplicably, you watched as Tech, still hunched over his work with his hands tangled amidst wire and components, allowed his shoulders to begin to soften, slowly pulling away from his ears as he listened to his brother talk.

You suspected that this was Echo’s way of making up for lost time with Tech, and for your part, you were more than happy to just be a silent, but present observer and support, there to reach for and squeeze Echo’s hand, or, if necessary, talk with him late into the night when you noticed his small tells of guilty, self blame ridden thought patterns starting to creep in.

Regardless of how it had initially started as simply mobility and skill recovery, Tech had, with the input of Echo, designed quite the variety of inventions for Echo’s scomp, one of which, you now found yourself in your kitchen, getting to test out its effectiveness for the first time.

“I have to say,” you murmur, arms wrapped around his waist as you observe him from behind, your chin lightly resting against his shoulder. “You’re doing a much better job than the stand mixer ever could.”

Echo stands, the attachment to his scomp lowered into the glass bowl, whirring as it stirs the ingredients. The mix looks smooth, slowly coming together in a blend. Echo lets out a low chuckle, and you can feel its slight rumble as he turns, retracting from the bowl and raising his scomp to give you a small salute.

“Happy to be of service,” he says with a smirk, startling slightly as a flake of the dough takes the opportunity to fall from the attachment, landing on the tip of his nose.

It’s your turn to giggle, and your hand stops him from instinctively moving to wipe it away as you rise onto your tiptoes, hurriedly exclaiming “I got it. I got it,” before you lean forward and, not giving him the time to protest, cheekily licking it off.

“You’re quite the opportunist,” he muses, moving towards the sink to remove the attachment and place it in a pile to be cleaned.

“Can I have what’s left on that?” you ask and he turns, a hand on his hip and his lips pressed together.

“Are you kidding? No,” he says, both exasperated and mortified. “That is so unsanitary. Meshla, do you realize how many diseases you could catch from eating raw cookie dough?” he asks, turning back to the sink.

“It was worth a shot,” you sigh in defeat, looking at the bowl of now mixed cookie dough with longing. You’re not usually this impatient and peckish for scraps. But really, after your first tried and failed attempt, you’re hungry, and eager to taste test the fruits of your labour

“What next, boss?” Echo asks a moment later, returning to your side and drying his hand on a tea towel.

“Now,” you say, beaming as you hold out an ice cream scooper to him. “Comes the fun part.”

*

“Perfect,” Echo murmurs in satisfaction, watching as the round ball of dough falls from the scoop into your waiting, cupped hands. 

The two of you had decided it would be easiest, and move faster, if it was done this way. Echo, working with a lot more precision than you had when you had been doing this on your own, using the ice cream scoop to separate the dough into little balls. And you, after retrieving them, dunking them into a bowl of white sugar, rolling each around until each surface had a generous amount dusted on, and setting each on the lined baking tray.

“This probably wasn’t how you envisioned spending the night of Life Day Eve,” you say quietly, your words tinged with a note of regret.

“None of that,” Echo gently chides, his shoulder lightly bumping against yours. “I’ve already told you, Cyar’ika, I really don’t mind that this is the way that it turned out.”

You’re quiet for a moment, and sensing your lingering hesitance, he continues. 

“You’re worried about spending time with them, aren’t you?” he asks, and his words aren’t accusatory, just a soft, knowing observation and you swallow, your eyes intent on your work as you nod your head slightly. 

“Yeah,” you admit, your voice barely a breath. “I know I’ve met all of them and have even spent time with a few of them when you come to visit, but this is different.”

“I understand that,” Echo murmurs, and from the sincerity in his voice, you can tell that he really does. “This feels more official than all of those other times?”

“Yeah,” you agree, setting the next ball on the cookie sheet and turning to receive the next one. “Life Day is all about family and mine... let’s just say they wouldn’t be overly thrilled to see me standing out on their doorstep if I showed up tomorrow for their celebration.” 

Echo hums, and the silence that follows is comfortable, thoughtful as he turns, contemplating you from the corner of his eye.

“But my family will,” he says quietly. “You know that, right? They’re really happy that you’ve agreed to come. Especially Omega. She’s been chattering my ear off about how excited she is to see you every time I’ve gone over to visit them.”

His mention of the girl pulls your lips up into a slight smile, but the sound you make is noncommittal and he frowns, taking a step forward, catching your chin in his hand.

“I need them to like me,” you say, trembling at the vulnerability in your own voice. “I need to do something, give them something so that I don’t...”

“Shh, sweetheart,” Echo softly interjects, thumb lightly brushing over your lips. “You don’t need to do anything. I promise, cyar, they already love you.”

“I doubt that,” you say, unable to hide the edge of residual bitterness that even now, still lingers in your voice. 

Echo is patient, letting out a breath, the backs of his knuckles gentle, unhurried, as they run along the curve of your cheek, as he takes a breath to carefully collect his next words.

“I know that your family has made you feel unwanted,” Echo says, after a moment's pause to collect himself. “And I know that a couple of words from me aren’t going to change how much that hurt you.”

His hand is, yet again, lightly nudging at your chin, bringing your eyes back up to focus on his warm, concerned golden depths.

“My heart is yours,” he says, his voice just a whisper, but still managing to carry the stone heavy weight of a promise beneath it. “And, if you want them to be, if you let them, my family will be your family, too.”

“Do they want that?” You ask, unable to hide the waiver in your voice.

Echo’s eyes soften, and you can’t help the way you nuzzle into his touch as he cups your cheek in his hand.

“They do,” he affirms, voice certain and steady. “And if that’s something you want, all you have to do is say so. I promise, cyar, whenever you’re ready, they’re waiting for you with open arms.”

“Y- you’re sure?” You ask in a shaking voice, and at the first glimmer of tears in your eyes, he’s reaching out, pulling you to his chest and holding you in his arms.

“I’m sure,” he says, without a glimpse of hesitance in his voice. “You don’t have to make any grand gestures for them to accept you, ner kar’ta. You just have to be my girl.”

He drops a kiss to the top of your head and, despite the blush that’s crawling up your cheeks, you squirm, tilting your head, going up onto your tiptoes to capture his lips with yours, to which he surrenders happily.

When you pull away, your cheeks are flushed, your lips slightly parted, and your voice breathless. 

“I, I think I can do that,” you murmur, looking up at him with a shy, barely concealed mix of nervousness and hope playing on your expression.

“I’m glad,” Echo beams, and the smile he gives you is a dazzling thing to behold. “Trust me, cyar, it’ll all turn out. You’ll see.”

You’re not really sure what he means by that, but, as you turn back to finish arranging the rest of the cookies, you decide that he has never led you wrong before, so you might as well take him at his word.

*

“Beauties,” Echo comments, bending to retrieve the cookie tray from the oven. “Now these aren’t such a bad batch, are they, meshla?”

Maybe it was the weight that you suddenly found had vanished from your shoulders after your and Echo’s chat, maybe it was just the late hour and the oven timer going off sending you a prolonged burst of energy. But you couldn’t help but bounce on the balls of your feet, peeking over Echo’s shoulder to catch a glimpse at the now perfectly baked, lightly sugar frosted chocolate crinkles.

“I know we should wait until tomorrow so that we can share them with everyone but...” you trail off, the indignant grumble of your stomach interrupting whatever excuse you were about to make.

Echo laughs, throwing his head back as his eyes sparkle with merriment. An arm wraps around your shoulders, and he tucks you against his side, looking down at you with a small grin.

“We made them. We deserve to taste test them,” he declares, and before you can protest, he swipes the nearest one from off the tray. “Want to share?”

You smile, nodding your head and helping him to break the cookie in equal halves.

“Cheers,” you grin, lightly bumping your half against his. Raising it to your lips, you indulge yourself in a large bite, closing your eyes and letting a soft “Mmm,” fall from your lips. It’s still warm, soft and gooey chocolate that melts in your mouth that reminds you, so quintessentially, of the holiday, and for once, only the good parts come to mind, as you watch Echo follow suit, though his first bite is much more delicate than yours. His eyes flutter close, and before you know it, both of you are looking at each other, your halves of the cookie gone within seconds.

You both smile, soft laughter falling from your lips as you both trade glances towards the tray, tempted to reach for another, but making a valiant effort to resist.

“Look at me, beautiful,” Echo hums. “You’ve got a little something right...”

He dips his head, leaning in, fingers delicately tilting your chin upward, lips warm as they brush against yours. You gasp, unable to hide a slight shiver as his tongue gently sweeps over your lips and he lets out a soft hum, fingers lightly teasing along your side, his hand eventually coming to rest at your hip. 

The kiss is sweet, filled with tenderness and topped with the lingering traces of sugar that Echo chases away with his lips. 

Faintly, as he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, feeling the soft puffs of air as you both try to regain your breath, you register the distant chimes of a grandfather clock, 12 rings of its bells to signify midnight, ringing in the new day with its song.

“Happiest of Life Days, Cyar’ika,” Echo whispers, a soft breath against your skin. 

“Happy Life Day, my love,” you say, your voice equally as soft.

Then, as the distant, echoing chimes of the clock ring and fade into the night, you cradle his face in your hands, tilting your head to kiss him again. You feel, for the first time in your recent memory of Life Days past, a sense of rightness, of knowing that here, with his warm body lightly pressing you against the counter and his soft lips settled against yours, content, it seems, to linger there until all coherent thoughts have been chased away from your mind with each teasing touch, that this is where you’re meant to be.

That somehow, despite having convinced yourself that you were never going to find it, you think that finally, truly, his arms might just be the safe, comforting place that you choose to call home.

*

“We made you a gift.”

Omega is beaming with excitement, almost on her tiptoes as she bounces on the balls of her feet with a wide smile, and looking down at her, it’s impossible not to be captivated and taken in by her infectious joy as she produces something from behind her back. 

Despite Echo’s stream of reassurances that all would be well as you left the house this afternoon, picking your way through rainy pathways and hopping around puddles, you still look to him now, reaching for his hand to feel the reassuring press of his fingers against yours.

“You did?” You ask, unable to hide the note of startled surprise in your voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t bring something for each of you. I didn’t know what you would like and...”

“It’s a gift,” Crosshair cuts you off, folding his arms as he leans against the wall.

“We do not expect nor require you to provide anything in return,” Tech states, much more kindly as he gives you one of his small smiles. “We merely hope that you enjoy it.”

“Hunter did the carvings,” Omega says, very carefully lowering something into your hands. “But we all contributed in one way or another.”

You look down to find a snow globe, rested atop  a circular, wooden stand beneath, cupped within your hands. Inspecting it closely, you find that indeed, there is something to signify each brother within the carvings of wood that decorate the base. From the small carving of Tech’s goggles, to Hunter’s skull emblem and Crosshair’s tattoo. 

“I made the snow,” Omega declares proudly. “And Wrecker took the photo.”

“What photo?” You ask and Wrecker grins, leaning across you and touching a small, unnoticed button at the top of the glass. 

A holoimage slowly fades into focus within the glass orb, snow lightly swirling around it. It’s of you and Echo, sitting out on a porch swing and snuggled beneath a blanket. You remember how the rest of them had teased you both, saying that it wasn’t even that cold outside and was the blanket really necessary?

Wrecker, in particular, had let out a booming laugh, claiming that since the two of you seemed to run so cold, maybe it was a sign that the two of you were perfect for each other.

“Aw, look at the two a ya. You can keep each other warm,” he had grinned, and you can remember him snapping the photo shortly after that.

“We all have one,” Omega continues, pointing to the mantle above the fireplace where indeed, you see a line up of six other snow globes. “You can take yours home, or you can set it with ours, if you want to.”

“You, you would be fine with that?” You ask the room at large, scanning their faces. For some reason, it feels wrong, and you don’t want to insert yourself into their already established Life Day family traditions.

“Why not,” Hunter grins, gesturing to the mantle. “You’re one of us now.”

“Y- you’re sure?” You ask, unable to hide the waver that’s crept into your voice.

“Of course we are. You make him so happy,” Wrecker beams, and before you know it he’s enveloped you into a fierce, tight hug that simultaneously knocks all the air from your lungs while also, at the same time, making you feel like you’ve just let out the biggest sigh of relief. He lifts you off the floor, which makes you let out a sound, somewhere between a startled gasp and a laugh. “That seems like as good of a reason as any to me,” he continues, suddenly gentle and steadying as he sets you back down.

“It’s true,” Crosshair snarks, watching as he idly twirls a toothpick between his fingers. “I’ve never seen him look like such a lovesick puppy before,” he says, pulling a disgusted face as he slides the toothpick between his teeth.

“Oh, shut up,” Echo grumbles, but when you turn to him, he’s ducking his head, his cheeks having gone slightly pink. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Omega declares, lightly elbowing Crosshair in the ribs. He pretends to give her a glare, then, as payback, lunges forward, easily grappling her and beginning to attack her with tickles. The small house is momentarily filled with her shrieks and giggles which ends with Batcher, torn between which of her owners needs to be protected from the other, shoves between the two of them, nudging her snout at both sets of scrabbling hands to entreat them to pet her and give her head scratches, which both happily oblige her demand.

“You are by no means obligated to,” Tech cuts in, smoothly redirecting the conversation back to you. “It is our gift, and you may do with it as you wish. But, if you would like to place your snow globe alongside ours, we have made a space for you, right beside Echo’s.”

“I would,” you admit, voice soft, wistful.

Echo rises to his feet, his hand held out in a silent offering. After a moment's pause, you take it, letting him guide you towards the blazing heat of the fire that warms your toes, caressing up your legs as you get closer.

With hands that are shaking despite the warmth, you lift your snow globe, careful and gentle as you lower it down into the spot that they’ve made for you, smiling as it fits perfectly beside Echo’s.

“There,” Echo murmurs, and the smile he gives you is soft, speaking volumes of his affection.

An arm curls around your waist, and you melt into him as he pulls you against his chest, letting out a happy sigh as warm lips brush against your forehead. When he speaks his voice is low, soft, and meant for your ears alone.

“Welcome to the family, Cyar’ika. You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here.”

When he leans in to kiss you this time, standing by the fire and in front of all of his family, you start to get that same feeling you got late last night, when you had shared your first Life Day kiss with him. Only this time, it’s not a glimpse, or an echo or a maybe. When you tilt your head, rising up onto your tiptoes to meet him, warm contentment settling over you like a soft blanket, you know, without any second guessing or lingering reason to doubt, that he is your anchor, your lodestar, and, most of all, that Echo is your home.

•Thank you to @strangergraphics for these adorable Christmas themed dividers