#i hit the surface too hard and passed out lol

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

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Word Count: 10k

A SPECIAL HAPPY BIRTHDAY POST. (I’m 28 y’all)

Chapter contains: brief pregnant!reader, babies/kids…this is like a lil collection of blurbs. I have some head canons about each OC I can post if you’d like xoxo

I had ideas about their kids for ages, lol. This crazy lil family is chaotic

Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for without you two this fic wouldn’t nearly be this good

Third trimester is a bitch. I barely have the bandwidth to write lately. I hope you enjoy

Two pink little lines stare back at you as Eddie turns the shower on, completely oblivious to the manic state you’re in.  

He offers you to join him, a temptation you decline with an intense amount of reluctance. You just claim you need your own bed, which was true.  

Eddie missed four weeks of work while you were on your luxe honeymoon, which means he now has several fires to put out. It keeps him busy for the week, making the doctor’s appointments and blood work you do that much easier when he passes right out on his couch at the end of his long days.  

The following week, knowing you're pregnant but not being able to tell him is pure torture. It doesn't help that for some odd reason Eddie seems more lovey, more affectionate. Your first instinct is to chalk it up to your newlywed status, but his affection feels different, the way his arms wrap around you each morning to wake you up, his gentle voice low in your ear. It's driving you up a wall not being able to share your secret with him.  

He seems to consistently have a hard time letting you go to leave for work (not that you’re complaining.) Though eventually you have to practically push him out the door.   

The ultrasound is nearly dull, the implantation in question is only a bundle of cells, but once you get a photo from the tech at the end of the appointment, it’s the very thing you needed to tell Eddie.  

After another early night of falling asleep you empty the face of the fridge, yanking every magnet off as you place the sonogram on the silver surface with a pink heart magnet right at his eye level.

-  

Eddie wakes in the middle of the night, a sudden urge to rise hitting him out of nowhere. His arm tightens around your waist, admiring your pretty face as he kisses your cheek. Your face falters only the littlest bit, twitching your muscles to shake off the tickle of his stubble.   

He finds himself starving, craving something only a feral racoon would also be satisfied with. He rubs his eyes as he walks down the steps. Sometimes he thinks he’s going to see you back in the kitchen chair in the dress and bathing suit, Dylan searching manically for a parking pass as if Eddie has imagined this whole dream scenario. Your love is just too good not to think he’d made it all up at times. He smiles to himself as he turns on the stove light, turning to the fridge for a snack.   

He feels frozen by the blank fridge at first, wondering where all the magnets got to. The black and white image staring him dead in the face suddenly registers, the heart shaped magnet falling to the floor as he rushes to pick it up to make sure his tired eyes aren’t fucking with him. They bulge out of his head when the significance of the photo occurs to him, and the hunger that woke him up seems to vanish.

His long legs take the stairs two and three at a time as he rushes back to you, hurling himself beneath the covers.   

The cold of his arms startles you, a gasp leaving your lips from the shock as you abruptly awoke. “Hmm?”  

“Are you fucking pregnant, sweetheart?” His eyes are unbearably soft, melted pools of milk chocolate staring intently at you.

A burst of sleepy giggles leaves your mouth, turning your body so you don't have to crane your neck. “You got up early.” You comment, weaving your fingers into his curls.   

“Skip the pleasantries, love.” He dismisses, scooping his arms beneath your back. “Are you fucking pregnant?”   

You pull him in for a kiss, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him down against you. “What’s the sonogram tell you?”    

He chuckles against your lips, his thumbs swaying against your smiling cheeks. “You’re a little shit, you know that?” You nod, absentmindedly playing with his curls. “Fuck, I’m so excited right now, baby.”   

“Really?” You ask him, grinning.   

“I just found out my wife is having my baby. Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks, rutting his hips against yours desperately. “I’m rock hard, sweets.”   

Lucky for you and him, you opted for a pair of tiny panties and a t-shirt to bed, feeling his hardened cock against the thin lace fabric of your panties. Your fingers fumble to his boxers, hurriedly pushing them down his hips. “Then fuck me.”   

Eddie gently pulls the fabric aside, exposing it as his head perfectly brushes against your entrance. “God, my girl is soaked for me, ain’t she?”   

Your thighs tighten around his hips, jaw dropping as he teases you. “Want you, please, Ed.” Your eyes squeeze shut, relishing in the feeling of him pressed against you 

He pushes in, arms wrapping themselves around your torso. “Oh my god you’re having my fucking baby,” Eddie mumbles, face curling into your neck. “Gonna see your stomach all big when you’re carrying my baby, sweets, and you’ll be even hotter than you are now. Which I thought was impossible.”   

No words come to mind, mouth open and gasping at the way he moves in you. The cotton of your shirt is too hot, your hands shakily grabbing at the fabric to take it off. Eddie admires the sight he sees as your piqued nipples fall out of his faded black t-shirt, his eyes glazed over as he stares down at them. A moth drawn to the light, he dives into one, curling his tongue around the nipple with the perfect mix of teeth, pulling little mewls from you.  

“Fuck, we’re gonna be the happiest little family,” he chokes, kissing from your breast up to your neck, his voice filled with emotion.  

“Love you,” you sigh, gasping into his open mouth as his hips hit you harder.  

Eddie smiles, a wicked little grin as his hand curves over the swell of your tummy, thumb petting it gently.  

“Hold on to me, sweetheart. Hold on to your baby daddy,” you grin the line, wonderfully cheesy, but Eddie feels the way you tighten around him. Your arms curl around his back, pulling his body against yours.  

“Eddie, make me cum, please.” 

“Hold on, baby, I’m almost there, hold on,” he stutters, his deep voice starting to falter. His lips bend down to your ear, gasping desperately, bordering on whining. “Fuck– cum with me.”  

His lips wrap around yours, delicately connecting his tongue with yours as his hips stutter a final time, the little moans vibrating against your lips as he fills you up. As you collapse on the bed, sweaty bodies intertwined, he spends the twenty minutes until he falls asleep cooing, whispering in your ear how excited he is.  

You wake up the same way, with rounds two and three before he begrudgingly trudges off to work. 

- 

The sun accounts as a natural alarm clock as Dylan stretches his limbs wide, turning to face his girlfriend. His arm falls over Maya’s form, pulling her in as he starts to wake up. “Morning, Dylan,” she whispers, her pink lips spreading into a smile.  

He pulls her back against his stomach, hiking his legs under hers. “Mornin’.”  

She hums as he kisses the back of her neck, giggling as he takes a deep inhale of her shampoo. “You work today?”  

“No,” Dylan answers, caressing the strip of her exposed skin with his thumb. “I am seeing my dad today.”  

She smirks, turning to face him. “And your stepmom?” Dylan grits his teeth, tickling her stomach until she begs him to stop, hunching over the arm around her. “Okay, I’m sorry!”    

“Mmhm. I’m telling them, did you want to join me?”  

Maya squishes her face, seemingly debating on pros and cons. “I’m gonna pass on that, respectfully.” She can feel the questioning look Dylan gives her. “I have a long shift today, and I am exhausted.”  

“Next time, I’m dragging you with me,” Dylan insists, squeezing with his arms wrapped around her.  

“I’m counting on it.”  

As soon as Dylan opens the door, he listens in, waiting for a sound that never comes. Good, he waited long enough to come. He wanders into the kitchen, meeting his dad drinking orange juice straight from the carton. “Dad?”  

His dad freezes, removing the spout from his mouth, and wipes his face hurriedly. “Hey bud.”  

Dylan raises his eyebrow at him, pointedly glancing to the carton and back to him.  

“Don’t tell my wife.”  

Dylan smirks, rolling his eyes. “Speaking of the devil, where is she?”  

“Upstairs.”  

As if your ears are burning, the two men’s ears pick up the particular sound of someone coming down the stairs. Eddie prays you come downstairs with some clothes on. Your face lights up when you see Dylan, welcoming him into your arms without a second thought. “Dylan!” The familiarity you two share is still new, but wrapping him in a hug is like second nature at this point. “What brings you into this part of the world?”  

You leave the embrace, backing straight into Eddie’s arm. “Actually, I have some news I wanna share with you guys.”  

Eddie’s hand tightens around your arm, he’s mentioned Dylan talking about proposing last month, and this news felt right around the corner. He feigns ignorance, innocently asking, “Oh, what news would that be?”  

Dylan’s cheeks bloom in red, glancing down to his feet sheepishly. You just hoped you wouldn’t have to travel to a destination wedding while largely pregnant. “Uh, we–or, Maya,” he clears his throat, a laugh stuttering through it, “Maya’s pregnant.”  

The first thing you do is glance at your husband, both sporting wide eyes and slacked jaws. To say you’re surprised is a grand understatement.  

“Not the news you were expecting?” Dylan asks, watching the two of you share a silent conversation.  

In sync, the two of you switch back to him, twin smiles on your faces. Dylan had no idea what either of the faces in front of him could possibly mean, and there’s a part of him that wonders if this is happy news for either of you.  

“Um, no, actually,” Eddie barely holds back the sound of laughter in his voice. “That’s, that’s fantastic news, Dyl.” Truly, fantastic news. Eddie has been looking forward to being a biker grandfather since Dylan showed interest in being a father.  

You smirk, leaning into his shoulder. “How far along is she?”  

“Uh, 8 weeks, or so,” Dylan answers, squishing up his face comically.  

“Oh wow, so a week behind me, then,” you say nonchalantly, nodding at Eddie.  

“Wait, what?” Dylan asks, making sure he understood that correctly.  

You giggle, nodding as you sit your head in Eddie’s neck. “Yeah, I’m pregnant too, ironically enough.”  

Eddie leans into your ear, “So you’re gonna be a mom and a grandma in the same year…”  

Your eyes widen. “To think, I was just getting used to the idea of being a mom.” You lean back, meeting your husband’s pretty brown eyes. “Are we sure the kid’s gonna call me grandma?”  

Dylan picks up the conversation right away. “I mean, unless we’re gonna be completely honest with them, it doesn't make sense otherwise. You’re grandpa’s wife, therefore grandma.”  

Am I mom, then, too? You think to yourself, knowing you’ll point it out later. Your stomach rumbles, turning around to the counter to start making a breakfast of sorts. Your eyes hit the open orange juice jug and the lack of cup. “Did you drink straight out of the carton, again, mister?”  

Eddie avoids your eyes, looking at his son. “Hey, I didn’t say anything,” he surrenders, having a seat at the island.  

“How’s Maya been handling the pregnancy so far?” you ask, grabbing a pan from under the cupboards. “Because morning sickness is no joke.” You pause, leaning on the counter. “Not just in the morning, either.”  

“I think it’s some nausea, a bit of acid reflux, but to my knowledge she hasn’t been sick,” Dylan says, taking out his phone to text Maya about the news.  

“Bitch,” you mutter, the tone in your voice clear you’re joking. “We can’t all be so lucky. Eggs?”  

Dylan nods, grinning at the text Maya shoots back. “So dad, you’re gonna have a kid and a grandkid the same age as each other?”  

Eddie shrugs, taking another large sip from the carton. “Since my girl showed up, my life hasn’t been normal, and this just means it will never be normal again.”  

“You’re welcome,” Dylan laughs, rolling his eyes at the exasperated look you shoot at him.  

- 

Dylan’s phone buzzes, glancing at the unknown number as Maya fades in the middle of her sentence. “One minute, babe, I’m expecting a call from the interview I just did last week. Dylan Munson, speaking.”  

“Oh, Dyl-pickle, you sound so big!” Only one person has ever called Dylan that. He gulps, the sound of her voice bringing up old, sore emotions.

“Brooke. W-why are you calling me?”  

“Brooke? C’mon, I’m your mom, sweetheart,” she whines, her voice the sound of nails on a chalkboard.  

“Really, are you?” Dylan asks, getting up from the bed and starting to pace the hallway, his anger already building. “Ok, what college did I go to?” Silence. “What did I major in? What year did I graduate high school? When did I have my first kiss? Who’s my current girlfriend? What’s my best friend’s name? What sort of vehicle do I drive?”  

She doesn’t answer a single question, instead giving stuttered empty answers. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer any of that… We haven’t exactly been talking for the last fifteen years.” She says, somewhat accusatory.

Dylan sighs, rubbing his face frustratedly. “What, your phone didn’t work all those years?”  

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m not the only one who had a phone,” she protests, sounding incredibly defensive. 

“Yeah, well, you also weren’t a child for 8 of those years who begged his dad for his mom to come to one thing that was important to him,” Dylan retaliated, angry at her gaslighting. “My dad had your number, always left voicemails inviting you to my soccer games, to award ceremonies, to my birthdays, and you never answered a single call, let alone showed up.”  

“I’m sorry, Dylan, I am, but I was young then, you can’t blame me for wanting a fresh start.” 

“Actually, I can,” Dylan answers, now done with this conversation. “You had eight years to be a mom before I finally gave up on you. You don’t get to pick and choose when to be my mom, now.”    

“I’m sorry that hurt your feelings, Dyl. But I have two boys, and they really want to meet their older brother. Would you come down for lunch one day?”  

He nods, knowing that this sudden need to be a mom again wasn’t going to come for free. “No. I have no interest in being your life. Not since the day I turned 18.”  

“C’mon, Dyl–” 

“No, mom–Brooke. No. Don’t call me again, please. I need to go now.”  

She starts another sentence, but Dylan hangs up on her before he hears it. When he walks into the bedroom he shares with his girlfriend, he crawls into the bed next to her, feeling like the ten year old whose life got torn apart.  

It looks like Brooke still has that uncanny talent for making everything about her.  

- 

Eddie sits in his office, a small room decorated with frames filled with the faces of those he loves and papers strewn around the desk. He’s going over the receipts and payments, and silently regrets not having hired an accountant by now, but he’s far too stubborn to admit it.  

There’s a knock on the door and Eddie looks up in relief. Please, let there be a disgruntled customer to save him from the numbers. “Come on in!”  

Connor, one of the new apprentices he hired only a few months ago comes in, looking timid. The first few months he has a new hire they’re usually shy, and when their self confidence in their ability to do their job kicks in, Eddie truly starts to miss it. “Uh, hey, boss, there’s a client out there who wants to speak to you.”  

Eddie chuckles, leaning back in his chair as he rests his feet on his desk. “Don’t, don’t call me boss. What do they want?” 

Connor screws up his face. “Uh, I forgot to ask.”  

“Always ask, man. Tell them I’ll be right out.”  

“Alright, I’ll tell her.” Eddie sighs in relief, women tend to be more understanding.  

“Hey, send in Joe, will ya?”  

“On it!”  

Joe, a man who’s worked for Eddie for 20 years, older by ten years, walks into the office just a moment later. “What’s up, Ed?”  

“Give the lady a talk, will ya?” Eddie asks, scratching the itch on his right forearm. “Ask her what she wants.” Joe, tall, dark, and quiet, nods and shuts the door.  

He’s back in the office in seconds. The door’s loose knob has barely clicked shut before it’s abruptly opened again. “That fast?”  

Joe shakes his head, his eyes wide with a grimace on his face. “Uh, no, it’s…it’s Brooke.”  

Eddie scrunches his face up. “Brooke, like…Brooke?”  

“Yeah. You want me to–” 

“No it’s okay, I got it,” Eddie insists, a pit forming in the depths of his stomach. He rubs his face tiredly, fully unprepared to deal with this. 

“Dude, you sure?” He asks, having been with Eddie through the divorce.  

“Seriously, I got it. Thanks, man.”  

Eddie gets up from his desk, catching the eyes of his long-time employees on his way to the entrance of the garage. He’s fine. He’ll be fine.  

There she stands, looking around the garage holding her purse with two hands. She’s dressed like one of those Instagram moms, high waisted jeans with a loose blouse tucked in under a long coat. Her eyes land on him, her face lighting up as she exclaims, “Wow, the garage looks great!” 

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, sighing. “Is there a particular reason for…”  

Brooke smiles, and Eddie could almost see a genuine human behind the mask. “Um, do you mind if we go into your office?”  

Eddie raises his brows, perplexed. “I really don’t see the necessity for it.”  

“It’s not really a conversation to have in front of the guys, Eds,” Brooke comments, shuffling her feet as she crosses her arms.  

Eddie winces at the nickname she calls him. She really doesn’t know him well enough to call him such anymore. The audacity of it astounds him. “I’m not Eds to you…and my office holds things that are precious to me, that I honestly want to keep out of this conversation.”  

“Like I haven’t already seen pictures of your little wife,” Brooke grimaces, her tone switching from sweet to condescending in a split second, her eyes rolling. “Congrats on that, or whatever.”  

Eddie blinks, too exhausted to argue. “Alright, come on.”  

It's not like Brooke hasn’t been in his office before, Eddie thinks, they were happily married, after all. She looks around at the changes, her eyes seemingly fixated on where photos of Dylan’s previous achievements are proudly displayed. “Wow, he looks just like you,” Brooke mutters, a look on her face that Eddie can’t quite place.  

Eddie assessed the bulletin, Dylan’s graduation, first school dance, the Munsons spending a weekend at the Harrington’s, it certainly spelled out to her what she missed out on.  

He clears his throat, quietly asking for her to continue. “Right, um, I was wondering if you could talk to our son.” 

“Our son?” Eddie asks, barely holding back his laughter. “Last time I checked you said he was my son.”  

Brooke ignores it, faltering in her seat. “I tried calling him last week, but he shut me down.”  

“What do you need me to talk to him about exactly?” Eddie leans against his desk, his hands gripping the edge.

Brooke blinks, tilting her head. “When did you cut your hair?”  

“Irrelevant. What do you need me to talk to him about?” Eddie enunciates, already feeling the exhaustion of her mere soul sucking presence.

“My sons are asking questions about him, and they would like to meet him.” She inhales, as if preparing herself for what she was about to say, “I would love to reconnect with both of you, honestly.” 

Like an anvil, Eddie feels his stomach pull him all the way down into the floor. The silence she’s given him and Dylan for the last fifteen years has been stable, reliable even. The most reliable thing about her. This is turning off the road into a ditch with nothing to instigate it. “What did he say?”  

“Uh, he had no interest in it,” Brooke shrugs, leaning back in her seat.  

Eddie nods, having expected it. “Brooke, those pictures on the wall? My son spent so much time begging me to call and get you to at least one event, one time just to show that you still cared about him.” He pauses, watching her avoid his eyes. “I left dozens of voicemails in your inbox, and I know it was your inbox, because I remember the day it went from Munson to Prescott. I begged you to show up. Just once. The last time I did was for his graduation, but by then I had stopped telling him.”  

“He told our lawyers and the judge he wanted nothing to do with me. Forgive me if I thought he was telling the truth,” Brooke huffs, her voice sounding defensive.  

“He was a child, Brooke!” Eddie deadpans, narrowing his eyes. “A child hurt by his mother’s actions tearing apart his happy family. Staying with the stable parent was probably the more appealing option.” He scratches at the stubble on his face, glancing over to the sonogram sitting on his desk. He’d hoped Brooke hadn’t caught wind of that news, yet. “At first, he was really hurt, but after a while, he just wanted his mom. Who never showed up.” 

“Well, I might be a little late, but doesn’t it count for something that I’m trying, now?” She asks, folding her arms across her chest. 

“I think it counts more that he’s about to be a father and he has no interest in including you in his kid’s life.”  

Her eyes bug right out of her head. “Wait, what?”  

“Mmhm. Seems he’d rather give what was supposed to be your title to someone he’s known for less than a year.” Eddie flickers to the photo of you he has framed, a portrait of you surrounded by the sunset in your wedding dress. “You had eight years, Brooke. Eight. You don’t get to decide to be a parent when it’s convenient for you. I never had that luxury. I had to pick myself and my son up and find a way to get through it emotionally without falling apart at the seams.”  

She seems to start talking, but Eddie is on a roll. “I finally feel like I’m living my life, and not just surviving. If you reached out five years ago, I probably would’ve said yes. I even had a low enough self-esteem to hope it would mean something more…but now I have this woman, this beautiful person who showed me how much she believes I’m worth, showed me how much I am worth. Brooke, no offense, but when I look back on it, especially comparing the two, you treated me like shit.”  

“Uh, okay,” Brooke mutters, holding her hand out. “I did not treat you like shit.”  

“You never stuck up for me with your parents, forced me to do things I was uncomfortable with all the time, gave ‘our’ son’s teachers hell all the time, and, oh yeah, left me for the person you told me not to worry about. So, no I will not be talking to my son. If he comes to the conclusion to reconnect with you, then fine. But I will not be participating.”  

“Wow, you’re being harsh.” Brooke complains, grimacing. “Eddie, I was young. I made a few stupid decisions.”  

“You know, my wife is a bit young. Somehow, she already knows not to act like a stone cold cunt.”  Brooke stutters through an empty response, completely rendered speechless. “I think we’re done here.”  

“I’m not done!”  

“Well, I suggest you be by the time my pregnant wife gets here, because she’s not your biggest fan.” It gives him the utmost satisfaction to start looking through the papers. He glances back up to her expectant expression. “Safe travels back to Boston, hmm?”  

Eddie swears the smile on your face in the photo of you grows, glad the backbone he needed seems to have finally grown. “You’re not going to even–”  

“No. I’m not. I’m done here, Brooke. Give Kevin my condolences, yeah?”  

Brooke nods, reluctantly understanding she wasn’t going to get what she wanted. Eddie had indeed grown the self-confidence she never saw when she was with him. “Condolences?” 

“Yeah, for still being stuck with you. Close the door on your way out.”  

Brooke’s nostrils flare, her jaw locking. She turns around without another word, the slam of the door echoing through the garage as she storms out, every click of her heel enunciated.  

Moments later, Joe pops through the door. “Everything, ok, Ed?”  

Eddie looks up, his dimples pronounced on his face. “Oh just, peachy, Joe. Mind if I take off for the rest of the day?”  

“I would be concerned if you didn’t, man.”  

- 

The ringing of your phone stirs you from your slumber, having passed out on the couch mid snack. An app you downloaded on your phone for the pregnancy said the first trimester would have you feeling quite sleepy, and you didn’t believe it until you find yourself constantly falling asleep during your off days, and exhausted at work when you really shouldn’t be.  

Your sister’s name lights up the screen, and the quick assessment of the movie tells you you’ve been asleep for at least forty-five minutes. “Hey, Viti.”  

“Hey, sis,” she greets, an airy tone in her voice. “Sounds like you just woke up.”  

You haven’t broken the news to your family, yet, waiting to present the information in the form of a present next time you and Eddie make your way over to your parents’ house. “Had an afternoon siesta,” you sigh, watching the movie you’re tempted to restart. The twist of Carlisle’s death just isn’t the same if you don’t build up to it. “What’s up?” 

She sighs, a habit you’re all too familiar with. “Spit it out.”  

“Okay,” she starts, gaining her courage. “Me and Arlo got together the night of your wedding.”  

If you were attempting to get rid of any sense of sleep, it disappeared within a second. The information takes a second to register, eyes darting around the living room filled with wrappers you have yet to throw out. “Harrington?”  

She laughs, probably expecting a much worse answer. “Do you know any other Arlos?”  

“Guess not.” You pet the bangs in your eyes away from your face, trying to remind yourself of the look on your baby sister’s face when she was slow dancing with him. “Ok. How did it happen?” 

“You’re okay with this?” She asks, your heart melting at how little her voice sounds.  

“It was never my choice, Vi,” you answer, using the remote to restart the movie. “If you like him and trust him, then, yeah, I’m okay with it. So how did it happen? Tell me all about it. But if you’ve slept with him, then maybe not all about it,” You chuckle. Viti sighs exasperatedly and you can practically hear her eyes roll through the phone.

“Um, so we were kind of flirting a lot after the family dinner. I thought he was just being nice, but I was willing to be his friend. It got a bit more intense at the wedding, and he asked me to dance…”  

“I saw,” you admit, granted you only saw because Eddie pointed it out to you. “What happened after that?”  

You can hear the smile on her face. “He led me to a hallway, and then we went to the hotel room I was staying in…” She trails off sheepishly. Oh, that's all you need to know.  

“Damn, girl!” you laugh, opting to push away the mental image and simply be your sister's friend right now.  

“We went to dinner last week,” she says, a giggle laced through her sentence. “I really, really like him.”  

It had to be Arlo Harrington. “Then I’m really, really happy for you. Have you told everyone else yet?”  

“You’re the last to know, to be honest. I think Eddie even knows at this point.” You roll your eyes, because of course that’s why he was so peculiar this morning.  

“Just because I don’t necessarily approve of the choice of boy doesn’t mean I won’t be happy for you. Plus, I could get used to him, after all, Steve isn’t so bad.” That’s a damn lie, Steve Harrington has become one of your favorite people. “Tell me you got out of the hotel room before mom and dad discovered you.”  

“We heard them coming down the hall…” she says, giggling. “We were dressed as they were about to come in the door. Luckily, they were both pretty drunk, so they didn’t really catch on to what was happening. Well, until the next morning at brunch, I guess.”  

Note, send a text to your mom asking about what her perspective was, because there’s a chance she knew more than she let on. You think to yourself.

“Anyway, four weeks in Cancun. Spare me the dirty details but tell me all about it,” she giggles, moving the phone away from her face, “shut up, stop, shut up!’ 

“Let me guess. Arlo?”  

A burst of giggles runs through her body and you can hear the smile on her face. “Maybe,”

“You couldn’t wait until you were alone?”  

“She’s not really alone all that much these days,” Arlo’s voice rings out. You can picture the smug smirk on his face.  

“Arlo!” She chides him, and yeah, this might not be so bad, you decide.  

“I’m gonna let you two go,” you offer, dismissing any protests she let out. “Also, without the dirty details there’s not much of the honeymoon to tell. Well, except one thing.”  

“What?” 

“You'll have someone new to meet in seven months!”  

“No way!” 

- 

If there’s one thing you know, it’s Christina Perri’s A Thousand Years is the song for the last credit scene of the Twilight Series. As each character is shown with the corresponding credit, it gets closer and closer to the main cast.  

It might just be the hormones, but this round of credits just seems to hit differently, tears spilling down your cheeks as it gets to the Cullen family. The front door to the house slams shut, announcing the arrival of your husband. Odd, he’s about three hours early.  

The weight of the cushion next to you sinks down with a comforting arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your head falls easily into his embrace, curling into his lap as you sniffle. It’s ridiculous, the irrational reaction that takes over you, but damn do the editors know how to elicit a reaction out of the audience.  

His hand pets your shoulder, kissing your forehead. “You crying at Twilight?”  

You nod, furrowing your eyebrows. “Lose the smug attitude, mister. This is your doing.”  

He laughs under his breath, petting your hair. “Hmm, that’s not how I remember our honeymoon.”  

You tilt your head back to look at his face, fretting at the curls that are starting to resemble closer to a mullet. “Just because I begged for your babies does not mean you had to listen to me.”  

He rolls his eyes, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips that takes the breath out from your lungs. As he backs away, he hums with a peculiar look on his face. “What’s on your mind?” You ask, your brows knitting together.

Eddie sighs, petting the bare skin exposed on your hip. “Minor Brooke update, today.”  

Your brows instinctively rise, feeling every little muscle in your face tense up. “Oh?” 

“Yup. Are you interested?”  

You close your eyes, asking any entity out there listening for a lick of patience. “You piqued my interest. Lay it on me.”  

Eddie can’t beat around the bush, or he would never say it. “She came into my work today.” He pauses, allowing you to absorb the information before continuing. “Requesting that I convince Dylan to…let her back into his life, so to say.” You squint, remembering the few times that Dylan had confessed about his mom to you, always finishing by claiming he wants nothing to do with her and never will.  

“Yeah, good luck with that,” you comment, watching his eyes flicker back and forth between yours.  

“She reached out to him last week and when he refused, I guess the next most logical step was to drive the six hours from Boston and corner me at work.” Your teeth grit, angry at the fucking gall that fills Brooke whatever-the-fuck her last name is. God forbid Steve or Eddie ever accidentally tell you what it is, because the day it comes her inbox will be flooded with just a little piece of your mind, and she'll be lucky if profanities are the worst things you say.

“What are you thinking?” He asks, having watched your face move through the storm of emotions.  

“I was thinking that I fucking hate your ex-wife and if she has no haters then I’m dead,” you answer, dead panning.  

“I love you,” he sighs, tugging you in against his chest. “Are you hungry?”  

You look at the wrappers decorating the mahogany coffee table, “Surprisingly yes.”  

“Lets get a real meal in you, shall we?”  

- 

Eddie is present at every doctor's appointment, every ultrasound, birthing class, and even at 20 weeks, when you were inexplicably spotting, stayed with you throughout the 7 hour wait at the ER. He certainly helped you hide from the embarrassment of the doctor explaining the bleeding seemed to be brought on by intercourse and to start being a bit more careful.  

Only one time does a health care worker mistake Eddie for being your father, a mistake quickly fixed at the death glare he gives her. You don’t know how, as you look nothing alike and he has been doting on you too affectionately to be a dad, but you can’t help teasing him by calling him daddy as soon as she leaves the room. 

Well, that’s a lie.  

There is one other time he’s mistaken for your father, running into the maternity ward and anxiously stating your name to the front desk of labor nurses. The head nurse, a woman bearing silver streaks in her hair, calmly tells him to relax and sit down, only the baby’s father is allowed in the room with patients.  

“Well you better take me to my wife, then,” he deadpans, his eyes harsh enough to shoot daggers if it were physically possible. 

She stutters through her response. “Oh, you-you’re her husband? I’m so sorry I assumed–my mistake, she’s in the third door on the left.”  

He rushes to the door, ignoring her last pleas for forgiveness. He was far too busy focusing on how he knew he shouldn’t have gone into work when he knew you were due to go into labor any day now. He knew he should've told them to ask Joe for the solution, as he was basically acting owner while he was away.  

When he bursts through the door, you’re sat on the bed in the room with Bethany petting your face as you push through a particularly hard contraction.  

He waits and watches anxiously for you to get through it before announcing his arrival. As soon as your eyes land on him he sees your face crumple in relief and your hands reach out for him. “Baby,” you whine, seeking the comfort of his shampoo and cologne.  

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, planting a big kiss on the hand that was reached out. “Thank you so much, Bethany, for taking her.”  

She shrugs, dismissing his over exaggerated gratitude. “She’s been a champ. Let me know if you two need anything.”  

Eddie pets your hair, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. “How’ve you been, baby?”  

“Only been an hour, and I am so over labor,” you whine, smiling pathetically. “Thanks for coming so fast.”  

Eddie was surprised he didn’t get pulled over, going 90 down the freeway. He turned a 20 minute drive into 8. “Made any progress?” 

“I’m only one centimeter dilated. We could be here for a while.” 

“I’m here every minute,” he says, grabbing a chair to sit by your bed. “I believe in you. We’ll listen to Taylor, listen to a smutty audio book, watch a true crime series, whatever you want, baby.”  

- 

True to his word, he allowed you to blast your Faves Spotify playlist, watched a few episodes of 48 Hours with you, and even sat with you as he let you play with the makeup you had packed in your hospital bag on his face.  

You made him look like a Captain Jack Sparrow, giggling as he animatedly talks in a pirate voice. The best thing about Eddie being there is that he wards off your parents and others who wish to visit you in your labor and acts as your advocate when the nurse is too rough with you and requests a new nurse immediately. Well, and his presence alone puts you at ease, of course.  

It feels like forever, but you’re eight centimeters dilated when a familiar face walks down the hall, passing his father as he carries the millionth cup of ice chips you requested. “Bud! Did someone text you about–” 

“She told me when Bethany was driving her to the hospital, but that’s actually not why we’re here,” Dylan sheepishly admits, his shoulders shrugging up to his ears as a pink blooms across his cheeks.  

“We?” Eddie catches on, blinking. “Is Maya also..?” 

“Yeah, we got here about three hours ago,” he squinted one eye comically, crossing his arms. “She’s about halfway there, now I think.”  

“Wow she’s progressing a lot faster than we did,” Eddie comments, it taking you far more than three hours to get to five centimeters.  

“It would be ironic wouldn’t it, if they had the same birthday?”  

“Irony is one word for it,” Dylan chuckles. “My girlfriend asked for ice chips about eight minutes ago, and she is not patient, so I’m going to get back to it.” 

“Let us know any updates, won’t you?”  

“I bet my kid will be born before yours,” Dylan answers, only somewhat joking. 

“Oh, you’re on, dude.”  

- 

As nurses and the doctor rushes around you, frantically assessing the baby while helping you with the afterbirth, birthing the placenta and ridding the bodily fluids that came out with the infant. Eddie cut the cord, watching carefully as the nurses quickly washed his newborn son off.  

He’s simultaneously whispering sweet nothings against your cheek, how proud he is of you, describing your son’s dark hair, his little mouth opening as the nurse's hand gently washes it. “Did so good, baby, so good, I’m so fucking proud of you.”  

“Is he okay?” You whisper, eyes half open as you stare up at your husband’s brown ones. “J-Josh, is he okay?”  

Eddie knows exactly what you’re asking, making sure his limbs are working, that he looks healthy, that the nurses don’t look too concerned about their results. He can’t help but answer, “He’s perfect.”  

Your favorite nurse, the one who got assigned after Eddie demanded it, brings him over swaddled in a hospital blanket and tucks him into your arms. The hormones and adrenaline overwhelm you as you stare at his face, selfishly grateful he looks just like his father, happily staring at the little button nose.  

“I love you,” when you stare up at your husband, you’re expecting his eyes to also be planted on the newest member of the little family. Instead they’re shiny and planted on you, his expression drenched in pure love.  

“I love you,” you sigh, leaning in for a sweet kiss. “He’s so perfect.”  

“I fucking love you so much.” 

The love fest eventually dies down, all the medical aides surrounding you finishing up and leaving the room as they steal one last glance at the happy little family.  

You’re lost in your own little world when Dylan runs in, seeing the little addition sat on your chest. Eddie looks up to face Dylan dressed in a hospital gown and a hairnet. His face is lit up with the same joy as the room is filled with. “You wanna meet your grandson?”  

Eddie nods, quickly stopped by his wife still lying on the bed sitting in the afterglow. “Go,” you insist, petting at the soft hair on your son. “Say hi for me.”  

He smiles, placing a gentle kiss on your knotted hair, followed by his newborn. “Be right back.”  

On the way over to the emergency surgery room Dylan explains that the umbilical cord ended up twisted around his son’s neck and they took Maya straight into an emergency C-Section. He sat with his girlfriend as they emptied the contents of her abdomen to allow the newest Munson to come into the world.  

Eddie asked several times to make sure it was okay if her father in law, her boyfriend’s father, to go into a room where she is this vulnerable. Dylan insisted that she said it was fine and since Eddie was here for the birth of his son it would be cool for him to meet his grandson, too, within the same half hour.  

Miraculously, after getting in his own scrubs, Eddie wanders in with Dylan as Maya is finished with her stitches. She’s still loopy from the general anesthesia, holding her newborn on her partially covered chest.  

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Eddie asked, knowing how against visitors you were.  

“Just come say hi to your grandson, Eddie,” Maya chuckles, passing up the newborn. “Meet Jace Edward Munson.”  

“Edward?” Eddie laughs, barely holding the mist that comes to his eyes. “What?”  

Dylan scrunches his nose, tilting his head to face the newborn now in his father’s arms. “You stepped up when she left. You were everything to me. You may have stolen a girlfriend, but that is small beans in the grand scheme of things, you know?”  

“Jace and Josh,” Eddie muses, laughter bubbling up his throat. “God, they even sound like twins.”  

- 

Kayla smooths over the dress she wears, nervously looking around the classroom. Are there enough learning centers set up? Will the children like the home center she put together? Will there be any difficult teachers during her first year?  

 For the first time, she’s on her own, placed in the very class she had spent so long working toward, kindergarten.  

Her little classmates with their parents, usually mothers, wander in with wide eyes, nervously holding onto their sleeves and looking around anxiously. She talks to each little one at a time, welcoming them and offering them many activities to distract them from wanting to stay with their parents.  

One little boy doesn’t need much, or any, peeling off his father as he runs in, his shaggy brown hair rustling in as he bolts straight to the building blocks. His dad walks in right after, carrying his bag dressed in a leather jacket and acid wash jeans.  

“Hi,” he sighs, sounding tired. “That’s Dylan.”  

“M or H?” Kayla asks.  

“M.”  

“Dylan, can you grab your bag from your dad and put it in the cubby?” Dylan runs to grab his bag from his dad, shouting in slight frustration as he’s pulled in for a hug. “Yours will have an M next to your name!”  

He listens, but doesn’t look back as he runs back to the blocks.  

“I’m Eddie,” the father says, holding his hand out. “His mom, Brooke, will pick him up after school, uh, she’s a bit of a hardass, so just beware.”  

Oh, goody. She gives him a strained smile, insisting she’ll be able to handle it.  

Eddie and Dylan end up being one of his favorite pairings for the year. But when Brooke walked in, she knew it became a big deal for something as small as Dylan putting his book in the wrong pocket in his bag.  

Kayla got along great with Eddie, as they turned out to be the same age. They saw one another around the school as Dylan got older, even became someone Dylan could rely on for a maternal figure when his parents ended up divorcing in fifth grade.  

About twenty one years after initially teaching Dylan, she’s a veteran teacher in her own right, having a monopoly over classroom #3 as she continues to be the answer for dozens of individuals when asked their favorite teacher.   

She sits in her lumbar chair that her coworkers raised the money for the previous Christmas as she finally is able to look over her newest class list. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until she came across 9th and 8th from the last name, two boys with J initials and the last name Munson. She’d been wondering if she would ever have the pleasure of teaching Dylan’s boys, or if he decided to skip town like most of his classmates.  

Their birthday right next to their attendance names indicated they had the same birthdate, so she was safe to assume she would have another set of twins. If they were anything like Dylan, they would be a fun sort of challenge for her, that she was sure of.  

On the first day the following fall, she keeps an eye out for her former student, keeping in mind it could very well be the mother that decides to drop them off.  

As she’s helping a particularly shy child settle into her classroom, she notices a parent helping their kid out of the wind breaker they’re wearing. As soon as the little girl is settled she goes to them welcoming them. She immediately recognizes the parent. “Dylan!”  

“Oh, Miss. Thompson! I didn’t realize you were still teaching!” He sheepishly admits, looking at the plaque now containing her married name.  

“I am just married, now,” she answers, answering him the same way she would a student out of habit. “Now, who do we have here?”  

“I’m Jace,” the little boy answers shyly, brown hair of this father but stark green eyes.  

“Well, Jace, would you mind finding your name at one of the cubbies for me? I think you’re put right next to someone named Josh,” she tells him, watching for any recognition of the other name she thought was his twin.  

“Oh, sweet!” Jace exclaims, running with his Pokémon bag.  

She gets up from her squatting position, her knees far too achy for doing it continually like she still is. “So, there’s another Munson on the class list, would you know anything about that?” 

Dylan chuckles, sighing. “Well, about that–” Dylan is interrupted by a little boy with dark hair hugging him, exclaiming his name. “Hey, Josh, we were just talking about you!”  

Josh laughs, tugging on Dylan’s arm. “Is Jace here?” 

“Yeah, he’s playing with the dinosaurs, if I know him.” 

“Cool!” Josh runs straight off, meeting his supposed relative at the play carpet.  

Kayla turns around in confusion, questioning what just happened.  

As if answering her, in comes another familiar face, holding a bag that looks comically small compared to his tall stature. “Ah, Kayla. I was wondering if you were still here.”  

“Eddie!” She greets him, giving a very frank hug. “I have to admit, I am very confused.” 

“That’s okay, you wouldn’t be the first,” Eddie comments, crossing his arms. “Me and my wife had Josh at the same time Dylan had Jace. They’re assholes, they like to gang up on adults, but don’t let them intimidate you, they can’t with their adults anymore, so they try it on teachers.” 

“Takes a lot more than that to intimidate me,” Kayla answers, looking back at the boys who gained ownership over the carpet with dinosaurs and cars. “I appreciate the warning, though.” She looks back to her old friend, seeing the smile lines on his face, still carrying his son’s things. “I’m happy you found someone, though.”  

“Thanks. His mom will pick him up after school,” Eddie tells her, going to the cubby with his kid’s name on it. “She’s not as bad as Brooke, so there’s no worries, there.”  

“Alright, can’t wait to meet her.”  

Eddie and Dylan share a look, one that Kayla misses as she starts to welcome in a few new classmates.  

- 

The bell rings for lunch for the rest of the elementary school and end of day for the kindergarteners. Mrs. Franklin, or Miss. Thompson, as Dylan knows her, helps all her students with their backpacks and jackets. It’s one thing to manage five-year-olds, it’s another to get them to stop wrestling and help them simultaneously.  

The Munson boys are certainly no help, Josh trying to stick his finger up Jace’s nose, pinning him down on the dirty floor as Jace wiggles underneath him. Kayla wished Josh would stop telling Jace he’s his uncle and he has to listen to him, that way she wouldn’t have to hold back her laughter so hard.  

“Okay, Mr. and Mr. Munson, break it up, your parents will be here any minute now. Get up.” They both switch their glances up to her, eyebrows raised over wide eyes. “Get up.”  

They roll their eyes, Josh reluctantly getting off Jace slowly and helping him up. Slowly but surely, parents start to pick their kids up, both Munsons waiting for their parents anxiously. You wonder in with your youngest, a little three year old by the name of Stevie. She holds onto your pointer and middle finger anxiously, eyes darting around at the unfamiliar noises and faces.  

Your son is seemingly nowhere to be seen, usually seen with his counterpart but you can’t see him around the crowd of parents kneeling with their kids and asking how their day was. The teacher,  someone both Dylan and Eddie insisted is the best in the school, approaches you kindly to ask which kid is yours.  

Before you can even answer Josh runs into you, happily glancing up at you as he wraps his arms around your legs. “Hi, baby,” you greet him, kneeling down as you pet his sweet face.  

You miss the peculiar look Mrs. Franklin, or Kayla as Eddie referred to her as, gives you. Surprised to say the least that the Mrs. Munson she has yet to meet is so young. Her brows furrow even further when Jace notices you, yelling, “Grandma!” as he also runs for a hug.  

“Were you boys nice to Mrs. Franklin today?”  

“Of course!” Josh smiles, and you squint through his bullshit.  

“Well we’re gonna make sure to be nicer or we’re gonna have to lose our tablet privileges, won’t we?”  

You get back up, smiling at their grumbly faces. They never listen to new adults, it was a field day at their first day of preschool. One glance to their teacher’s observant face told you all you needed to know. “Eddie didn’t warn you, he?”  

“No, but they did have a peculiar look on their faces when I mentioned meeting you. Should’ve known better, with those two,” you tilt your head, curious at what she meant. “Seriously, your husband needs to tell you more. I taught Dylan when he was in kindergarten.”  

“Oh!” you exclaim, somewhat surprised. “That’s really cool! Were you surprised to see Eddie wi–” 

“With another kid,” she interrupts, laughing, “yes, I was. I’m happy to see that he found someone else, Brooke, was, well, she was not a nice person.”  

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of your husband’s ex-wife, this being the first person she meets outside Eddie’s inner circle to having even mentioned Brooke. “So, I’ve heard.”  

“Hey mom,” you hear behind you, you shove the owner before you even see him, rolling your eyes.  

It’s very recently become a silly habit of Dylan’s to call you mom, due to your son asking why his brother calls his mom by her real name and not mom like he does. After the best attempt at explaining Dylan has a different mom who is no longer around, Josh is still confused and insists that you still act like his mom, so therefore, are Dylan’s mom. 

It was awkward at first, but now it’s a little inside joke. If you were told when you first got together with Eddie that Dylan would be referring to you as a maternal figure, you probably would’ve hit them on the head for fucking with you.  

“Hey, kiddo,” you tease back, mocking his twisted face expression. “They were apparently giving her a hard time today.”  

“Of course they were. You know we can ask one of you to switch classes, right?” Dylan asks, an aura of authority in his voice.  

Their eyes go wide, even though it was a threat in their preschool room, they have yet to consider this. You didn’t want to resort to threats but with their shenanigans, it's literally one of the only things that will work.  

“C’mon, your dad is making your favorite for dinner,” your shoulder cascades around Josh’s shoulder, telling him to say bye to his nephew and that he’ll see him tomorrow.  

Two years later, Stevie shows up with her dark curls down to her shoulders after her father, giggling as she says hi to the teacher.  

That was the last time Kayla taught one of Eddie Munson’s kids. Or, so she assumed.  

- 

The double doors to the high school flew open, big black boots echoing as the large leather jacket trails behind a slim torso. He takes the immediate left into the office, his presence large, with grey streaks leaking into his roots and an angry look on his face.  

The kind administration lady looks up to his expectant face, the curiosity quickly melting into confounded terror. “Can I help you?” 

“Apparently Stevie Munson is in the office right now?” Better be a damn good reason for peeling me away from one of the only moments I have left alone with my wife, he thinks, eyes observing around the office.  

“Yes, she is, uh, are you her–” 

“Her father, are you going to let me in the office or do I have to let myself in?” 

The surprise that fills her features would be charming if Eddie wasn’t so fucking annoyed. He’s used to the assumption by now, but for the moment he just doesn’t have any patience in his body.  

“You can go right ahead, Mr. Munson,” she peeps out, gesturing to the door marked Principal. Eddie’s not sure why he even asked, or how he had the foresight to ask, first. He’s surprised, honestly.  

The door opens to face the school principal, his daughter and a boy sitting two seats away from her nursing his face with an ice pack. “Mr. Munson, welcome in! Have a seat.”  

“No thanks,” Eddie answers, polite, but curt. He looks at his daughter, “What happened?”  

She opens her mouth to answer but is interrupted by the bald principal, “I didn’t ask you, I asked her. What happened?” He directs his attention back to his daughter.

She smiles at him, the same sweet smile his wife bares. “This guy touched my ass under my skirt, so I punched him in the face.”  

Eddie’s brows raised, teeth gritted as he sends a daggers at the boy he is now aware assaulted his daughter. “I’m sorry?” He asks, now directed to the principal.  

“So she says,” the principal says, eyes widening at how Eddie manages to look murderous. “Granted, even if Mr. Jackson did do that, it’s not a good enough reason to assault him. She will be suspended for two days.”  

Eddie laughs, loudly, shaking his head at the gall, the fucking nerve. This principal is extremely lucky it was him who answered his phone and not you. “Really? My daughter got sexually assaulted and your reaction to her defending herself is suspending her? Are you fucking kidding me?”  

“Mr. Munson, if you could please calm down and have a seat,” he starts, gesturing to the chair, yet again.  

“Oh, I am calm. You don’t want to see me angry,” Eddie answers, the Hulk flashing through his mind. “You deciding to punish her tells me exactly why this little shit felt confident enough to lay his hands on her, to begin with. I just think about all the other girls he’s done this to, too afraid to speak up, I wonder how many times he’s done this with no consequence to feel confident enough to touch under a skirt. What the fuck is this place? No-tolerance bullying policy? Utter bullshit.”  

“Mr. Munson, calm down before I call security–”  

“Don’t make me laugh. Seriously. Don’t.” Eddie sighs, pinching his nose. “If you do suspend her, I will press charges against him and I will sue this fucking school. If you punish him, like you’re supposed to, take him off his team for the season, put him in detention for a month, I don’t care, something with fucking consequences, I won’t. You decide.” 

He looks down at the little shit, whimpering as he still nurses the barely there bruise. “You better hope I don’t hear you doing this shit to any other girl in this school, or you won’t get into any college in the country.” He pauses, opening the office door to an audience. Maybe he was louder than he thought he was. “C’mon Stevie, let’s go get some fucking ice cream.”  

When you heard about how your husband stuck up for your daughter like that, you got on your knees for him in the bathroom. That might’ve cheered him up a bit.  

- 

The sounds are familiar yet foreign when you wake up to the blindingly white room, the chatter in the hallway and some heart monitor beeping. Two people immediately come into focus, Josh, sitting at the end of the bed on his phone, Stevie sitting concerned by your head.  

You moan, sitting up in your bed annoyed at the stark contrast of the back of your eyelids. “What the hell?”  

“Mom!” Josh shouts, getting up and standing on the other side of his sister.  

“Mom,” Stevie runs out of the room, calling for a doctor.  

You look to your son, brows furrowed. “What happened?”  

“You passed out at the grocery store. You fainted and you didn’t wake up until just now.”  

Your brows raise, because you haven’t felt off even the slightest. The dizziness hit you out of nowhere, going from fine to woozy in two seconds and falling flat on your face. “How long ago did that happen?” 

“Like twenty minutes? The ambulance got there pretty quickly,” he admits, turning his head to his sister and the nurse coming in the door. 

“Mrs. Munson! So glad to see you awake. I’ll let the doctor know and he should be able to give your results,” she says, sweet smile as she turns away.  

Stevie’s bottom lip is stuck out, quivering as she grabs the hand containing an IV line. You thought that was a bit much. “Stevie, I’m okay.” 

“Are you sure, because I heard the nurses saying it’s not normal to stay out that long after fainting. What if you’re sick?”  

“I’m okay,” you insist, watching both their worried faces. “Fuck, you called your dad, didn’t you?” 

“Uh, yes! He would’ve killed us if we didn’t!” Josh laughs, leaning back in his chair.  

As if summoned, your husband pokes his head in, his eyes wide as he walks in the room, hands out to you as his long legs take him to the head of the bed. “Fucking Christ.” 

“Hi, baby,” you greet him, leaning into the forehead kiss that he gives you. “I’m okay.” 

“Fainting in the fucking grocery store, fucking hell. My god, baby.” He looks over to his kids, “What tests have they done, so far?” 

“Just a blood test, I think,” Stevie shrugs. 

“They might do an MRI but that could take weeks of waiting.” Josh offers no comfort to his dad despite his best efforts.  

“I’m okay, really.” You insist to all their worried faces. “You didn’t call anyone else, did you?”  

“Uh, we called Dylan,” Josh says, wincing at your annoyed face. “And Jace.”  

“Fuck,” you mutter, intertwining your hand with Eddie’s rough one.  

The doctor doesn’t come as quickly as the nurse promised, but he comes within two hours. “Oh, hello, you have quite the visitors, don’t you?”  

You shrug, rubbing his thumb as it anxiously rubs your hand.  

“We have the results, inconclusively.” The air is tense, every one of the family seemingly expecting terrible news. “Congrats! You’re pregnant.”  

You knew nothing was wrong, but this was not what you were expecting. You’re forty-two, Eddie is nearly seventy. You weren’t even sure he could still get you pregnant. You meet your husband’s eyes, sharing a bewildered smile.  

In the meantime, shouts of disgust from your teenage kids fill the room, standing up with tense shoulders.  

“Gross!” 

“Ew! I didn’t even know you guys still did it! Oh my god! Ew!!!!”  

You bite your lip, shrugging. “Are you wanting to be a father to a newborn at almost 70?”  

Eddie smirks, leaning in for a kiss that makes your kids jeer again. “Bring it on, baby.”  

Steve calls an hour later, concerned for the text his name sake sent him. When Eddie informs him, you’re pregnant, twenty years of karma hits tenfold.  

When Steve and Jocelyn said they were pregnant with Eliza fifteen years after having Dustin, Eddie spent the pregnancy making fun of their oopsie baby. Asking if they knew what protection was, joking how they still had sex, telling them to keep it in their pants, the works.  

Now, Steve was more than happy to return the favor. “A baby at 70, you old bastard? What was that you told me twenty years ago? God, I’m surprised you two still do it, considering how low Eddie’s ball sack must be hanging.”  

“You wish you could see my ball sack, you asshole,” Eddie teases, laughing with you as you sigh. “You’re just jealous I can still keep it up, you geriatric bastard.”  

- 

Five years later, when Eddie and Kayla are older, he wanders into classroom #3 for the last time, holding his third son who ends up being notoriously clingy towards his older father.  

It’s ironic to the both of them how Eddie has a son for both Kayla’s first and last year of teaching, keeping tabs on one another for the duration of forty years.  

Eddie doesn’t say anything, letting Tommy down and dismissing her questioning look. Don’t wanna talk about it.

By the time Tommy is 18, Eddie is too old to give a shit, wondering constantly what Wayne’s opinion will be when he ends up knocking on heaven’s door.  

When you got into your sixties, Eddie was full of gratitude, thankful that you will no longer be confused for one of his kids despite his actual kids all calling you mom. He makes fun of your vision, stealing his reading glasses constantly despite his constant insisting that you get your own pair.  

Despite the smile lines by his lips and his eyes, the sunspots decorating his skin, you still stare up at him like you did when he was forty-seven.  

Your lives were forever intertwined from the moment you saw him, from the moment he saw you. He lies down in your bed next to you for the millionth time, his hand caressing your side, pressing kisses on whiskered lips, it doesn’t occur to you to ever be anything less than woefully in love with him.     

———————-

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[ranaiki]

Random Obscure Things You Can’t Do with a Tongue Piercing:

I made this list for fun, but who knows, maybe it’ll be useful for fellow writers or anyone weighing the pros and cons of getting a tongue piercing...

1. Play poison dart frog :(

2. Blow bubbles with bubble gum

3. Lick a beater (doable, but that mfer gets caught on all the prongs)

4. Stick your tongue out at people (normally), or do so without looking like a fool. I used to do it habitually, it was like a whole thing, but it becomes much harder cause you have to allow room for the piercing to pass through your teeth as well, and its much less forgiving than a squishy tongue.

5. Get hairs from your mouth easily? Idk. It gets wrapped around the stem and for some reason they’re just really hard to pull off.

6. Have normal levels of spit. I’ve never in my life had issues with producing too much saliva but I do now. Drooling becomes wayyy too easy and I spit while talking on accident. I don’t think this happens to everyone, but it’s a known thing.

7. Lick/eat popsicles and ice cream bars easily. It can hurt when it gets super cold, and also gets caught on things. This subsides the longer you have it, and might also only apply to people who are more sensitive. Like my teeth? Cannot handle the cold, so naturally my tongue struggles too. Easy way around it - just use your lips instead but it’s still not the same as before (and this doesn’t apply to ice cream biters... you heathens)

8. Keep your tongue in your mouth! (Jokes) It’s addicting to play with, and for someone like me who can’t help but fidget, I often play with the piercing without even noticing.

9. Blow raspberries (might be possible depending on placement)

10. Kiss without it hitting the other persons teeth. It made for a very strange first kiss imo, but it becomes easier with practice.

11. Do tongue tricks.... so sad my skills have gone to waste. Hot dog is about all I can do now, but once upon a time I could do clover, 180°, spoon, and the s-shaped one.

12. Be seen as a prude. A lot of people jump to the dirty side once they see it, but not all!

13. Make the waterdrop sound with your mouth. Another one that’s kind of doable, but really difficult. Used to be able to do it and impress people but alas no longer

14. It can be uncomfortable to lick something solid? Not that you ever do that much anyways... but like, say you lick someone’s arm or a wall or something - it’s much more likely to drag along the surface, and it tugs a little. It doesn’t hurt, just not super comfy. Squishy things are fine tho lol

15. Same idea as no.14, but licking things that aren’t very lickable is also very uncomfortable, even more so than solid things. Like blankets, fabric, paper... you get my drift. And yes, this is tried and tested. You’re welcome.

16. Always be 105% comfortable with the piercing. You get used to it, and barely even notice it most of the time, BUT, and it’s a big but, every once in a while it can feel so overwhelming. Like, if I’m overstimulated, half the time my body pinpoints on it, since its always in my mouth. There have been times I’ve wanted to rip it out because I was so overwhelmed, but of course as soon as I calm down, it feels fine again.

17. Eat super sticky things. It’s fine for the most part, but can get tricky. I have a hard time with Starbursts – they like to wrap around the piercing stem, which is hard to deal with! Jolly Ranchers are also more difficult, as the piercing sticks to the candy and then gets pulled when it moves.

18. More to come!!

[sentientgopro]

Tomorrow marks one month since I cracked. 2 things have become very apparent over this time.

1: This is gonna be a long and hard year and a half before I can transition. The month has already felt wild, the disconnect between the change in mental state and actual, y'know, change, has been really jarring and will only get more so the more time passes with nothing changing.

2: Just how much I was wrong about at first and how much stuff there was under the surface. Sentences like "I don't feel dysphoria" and "I can easily be a guy for a while" spring to mind. lol. lmao even. It was only like a week and a half ago I was saying the name I think I like means nothing to me and is just a nice name and that itd probably stay that way until late into transition. But nope, I'm already kinda starting to feel that name. Atleast like 2 and a half years before I can actually start using it. Great.

For all the negatives, there's one thing that has persisted since day 3 and that is the permanent mood improvement. Not being able to transition till I can move out sucks, but it gives me something to look forward to, which it turns out I was in dire need of, with my only real reasons to live being reasons not to end it yet, as opposed to reasons why I should live. But I see it now. A happy future is very much within my grasp and I WILL make it happen. Being in a better mood has made it easier to get stuff done on a day to day basis, and getting stuff done makes me feel even better. I've been on an upward spiral that's doing pretty good at counteracting the downward spiral of increasing dysphoria.

That's more of a recap, and now that the dust has settled a bit for now and I haven't bren having as many big realisations about it, I've started thinking, "why now?" Its not like I didn't know about trans people. I've been involved in trans spaces for years, I've been having these kind of feelings for years too. What actually was it that truly set it off? Like, the true moment of understanding was my first scroll through r/egg_irl but what was it that compelled me to do that?

Idea one was my first real feeling of euphoria. I kinda knew what it was at the time, I just ignored it. A month or two prior to cracking, my hair was at the longest it had ever been (which is not long at all.) It was the first time that the bits of hair infront of my ears (normally just a short spike shape as part of my fade) was long enough to dangle on its own as opposed to being fully stuck to my head. Something about having dangling hair like that felt good. I knew why, I just ignored it. I wonder if that specific feeling had been a bit of an early kickstart into this realisation? Either way, I was told to get a haircut shortly after (theres a reason my hair never gets very long) so I didn't dwell on it.

The only other factor I can really think of that was different just before cracking was watching Gen V? In short, Gen V features a character who can switch between masc and fem in an instant. In my interpretation of the show, this doesn't inherently make them genderfluid, but the power serves as an exaggeration for presenting (so them being masc is comparable to boymoding.) When looked at from that perspective, their writing strongly reflects that of a trans character and it kinda hit a certain spot for me. But honestly, I really don't think that was the actual catalyst.

The only real conclusion I can draw from this is that there was no actual catalyst. For a fair few days before fully cracking, I felt something was off, and I knew exactly what it was and what was about to happen, even if I didn't admit it to myself. So I think my cracking must have been a very gradual thing with no real catalyst.

There was more I had to say here, but its a fairly different topic and got really long, Ill save it for its own post. This has perhaps been one of the wildest months of my life, and also one of the most normal. As much as I hate that nothing has really changed, the better understanding of myself Ive gotten has been massively benefical. Besides, knowing is half the battle and I'm pretty much there already.

[set-phasers-to-whump]

dead on your feet

prompt: can't pass out

whumpee: sakari nurmi

fandom: karppi/deadwind

hi what's up!! here's a fun fic for a prompt i haven't ever explored before (i myself am shocked i didn't do hidden injury lol). i had fun with this one, hope you enjoy!

“You’re sure you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary when Mr. Virtanen was here for his last training session?”

“If I noticed anything, I’d have told you,” insists the gym trainer they’re questioning. He shifts from foot to foot and looks at the door. “If you’re not going to ask me anything else, I have a class in five minutes.”

Something has been lurking just under the surface in Sakari’s mind throughout this brief interview. He can’t quite put it to words, but he just knows something is up with this guy. 

A door near the back of the room opens just as he realizes what that something is. “You’re waiting for someone, aren’t you? Someone specific.”

Sakari turns his attention to the person who has just come through the door. She’s not dressed for the gym, and she looks thoroughly surprised to see him and Karppi standing there. 

“Run!” shouts the trainer. 

“Duck!” shouts Karppi, at the same time.

Sakari catches the movement out of the corner of his eye and steps out of the way, but he isn’t fast enough to completely escape the impact. The weight plate that the trainer swings at him connects with the side of his head and a white light explodes behind his eyes. 

He hits the floor hard and the impact knocks all of the air out of his lungs. The heavy breath he lets out coincides with the first wave of pain that radiates through his head. He makes a noise of some kind, though he can’t actually hear it. 

He closes his eyes and the whiteness is still there. He opens them again and stares up into it instead. His head feels hot. It hurts. He can’t think, is barely even conscious. 

For a long while - or at least for what seems like a long while - the pain is too great for him to be aware of anything else. Eventually, though, he’s able to think. And what he thinks is, it would be really nice to pass out right now. Then the pain would be gone. He closes his eyes again and tries to force himself to lose consciousness. 

“Nurmi!” 

It takes a moment for him to parse the voice, and another moment for him to register the hand on his cheek and the pressure on the side of his head, right atop the epicenter of the pain.

“Nurmi!”

He opens his eyes. The whiteness is fading, becoming spots instead of a field. He can make out a blurry shape above him, which he gathers must be Karppi. 

“Don’t pass out.”

“But I want to.” The words come out muffled, slurred together. He can’t feel himself speaking. 

“You can’t.” 

He closes his eyes again anyway. 

Karppi taps him on the face. A fresh wave of pain crashes through his head. He sort of groans, sort of whines, at the increased pain. 

“Sorry. Keep your eyes open.”

He opens them. “What’re you doing?” he mumbles. Whatever the pressure is on the side of his head, he’d very much like it to stop. It’s only making everything worse. 

“Keeping you awake.”

He knows that. He clumsily raises a hand and gestures to the problem. “This.”

“You’re bleeding.”

He is?

“You were hit in the head with a metal plate. Yes, you’re bleeding.”

Oh.

He supposes he should be glad that Karppi is stopping the bleeding. But he thinks he’d rather be bleeding than experience the pain of her stopping it.

An indefinite amount of time passes like this, him flat on his back on the floor of the gym, pain coursing through his head in horrible waves, and Karppi above him, keeping him awake and pressing on his head and generally doing things he’d really rather she not be doing. 

At some point, the white spots fade away and he can see more or less clearly again. The pain mellows out slightly, still very much present but not as completely overwhelming. He can feel the blood now, sticky and damp on the side of his face and beneath the fabric Karppi is still pressing to his head.

Then there’s a lot of noise and movement, and the pain spikes again. Karppi moves away and he recognizes a paramedic above him. He figures that everything is handled now, which means he doesn’t need to stay awake any longer.

He closes his eyes, but remains, despite his best efforts, conscious. 

The paramedic touches his head and neck and asks questions which are answered by Karppi. Sakari doesn’t pay too much attention to these. Then, he’s pulled slowly to his feet and guided to sit down on a bench. The paramedic begins speaking to him after the wave of dizziness this movement causes passes. 

“What’s your name?”

“Sakari Nurmi.”

“What day is it today?”

“October fourth.”

“Do you know where we are?”

“A gym. I don’t remember the name.”

“Do you know what’s happening?”

“I got hit in the head.”

The paramedic nods, evidently satisfied with his answers. “Quite badly, too, from what I understand. You’re lucky you didn’t lose consciousness.”

He supposes he’ll need to thank Karppi for that, though he hadn’t appreciated it at all.

The paramedic continues. “We’d like to take you to the hospital so they can rule out any brain injuries, but because you haven’t lost consciousness and are fully alert, it isn’t strictly necessary.”

“You’re going.” This is Karppi. 

Nurmi thinks she is being a bit unfair. “Would you go?” He thinks they both know she wouldn’t.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to go.”

This is how Sakari finds himself sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, head freshly bandaged, waiting for a doctor to tell him the results of the scans and tests they’d run. Karppi is off getting coffee - for herself only, he’s not going to drink the hospital stuff - and he is wishing he had something to do. His head still hurts, but it’s not nearly as bad as it had been before, thanks in no small part to the painkillers they’d given him. 

The doctor comes back into the room before Karppi returns with her coffee. The news, she tells him, is not all bad. He has a concussion, but nothing more serious. She tells him things he must avoid doing (though he’ll probably do some of them anyway), and when Karppi gets back, she tells her that someone must be with him at all times for the next two days. 

“Okay,” Karppi says, and that is that. The doctor tells him he is free to go and then they’re in the parking lot and the cold wind is making his head sting beneath the bandage.

“Do you need anything from your house?”

“What?”

“Do you need to get anything from your house?”

“Why?”

“Weren’t you paying attention? Someone has to keep an eye on you. You’ll come to my place.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not asking.”

They stop by his house.  He packs a bag and wonders what would happen if he just stayed inside. Probably Karppi would come banging on the door, and that would just make his head hurt worse. He decides against it and walks slowly back out to the car. 

He stares out the window in between long blinks on the drive over to Karppi’s place. They aren’t moving fast enough for the scenery to blur too much, but it makes him feel slightly disoriented all the same. He ignores it as best as he can and is very glad when they at last arrive. 

Karppi’s apartment is quiet. It is still the middle of the day - he wonders briefly whether Karppi has called them both out of work early - which means that Henna and Emil are at school. He settles himself on the couch, and Karppi offers to order food. 

For once, he isn’t hungry, and the thought of food makes him feel slightly nauseous. Karppi shrugs. “Let me know if you want something later. We’ll probably get pizza anyway.”

“Thank you.”

He stretches out on the couch, closes his eyes, and finally is able to fall asleep.

thanks for reading!!! hope you enjoyed and hope you have a good night/morning/afternoon/whatever!

[redsthebeststick]

A oneshot that I put on wattpad lol:

They all hurried to the shore, laughing and pushing each other, trying to get to the water first. Aqua was with them,(one of my own characters read lost and found for this to make sense lol) but he was only going to be there for a certain amount of time as they were staying there late.

Red of course got in first and starting swimming out. They all followed, Yellow and Blue making sure Aqua didn't go too far into the water. Everyone splashed around and threw a volleyball around. Mango had actually come along and was sitting on the shore, watching the others, as he wasn't really a big swimming fan. A few hours passed and the sun started to set, which followed with Aqua being taken home. They were all getting pretty bored, so Green hired a jet-ski and everyone took turns to go on it. The sky was a blazing not orange and pink as the sun started to disappear behind the horizon. 

"My turn!" Said Red who was the last to go.

She set off on the jet-ski and rode off into the horizon. She was excited as she planned to stop the jet-ski and swim in the deep for a bit, to see all sorts of sea life. Of course Red was fascinated with that sort of stuff.

When she got fairly deep, she turned the engine off and put on her snorkel, diving into the water. The bright sun lit up the whole underwater, so all the fish and coral she saw was very bright and colourful. There was all sorts of fish and tropical beings, all very pretty and amazing.

Red smiled and looked around. Red could hold her breath for quite a long time, so she was happy diving quite deep. s she was looking around, she felt a weird feeling inside her stomach like something was wrong. Suddenly, a loud 'whoosh!' was heard and she turned around to see in the distance, a great. White. Shark. Coming right towards her.

At first, Red didn't panic as she knew that was the worst thing to do and the creature might not even be angered, in which case it would just hopefully leave her alone. Alas, the creature actually sped up and shot towards Red. This was Red started to worry and suddenly, the great white swam right at her and she narrowly dodged it. The shark swam back round to face Red and that's when Red knew...she was in real danger. The shark shot at her again, and even though it didn't get to bite her, it swam right into her stomach and he swam across the top of it in panic. Red tried to remember what to do f ever in a shark attack, and then she remembered to make sudden movements and punch the shark in the nose, eyes or gills. However before she could do that the shark attacked her again, ripping a cut in her arm. Red wanted to scream in pain, but of course she couldn't, and she swung a hit at the shark with her other arm, punching it in the eye. The shark mostly didn't take any notice of this and opened its jaws to bite Red again, this time Red avoiding it. The blood from the large cut in her arm spread in the water, and Red swiped it at the shark in a scramble of terror and panic.  The shark bit at Red again, forming a large but of her leg this time. 

Back with the others, SC started to fee like there was something wrong.

"Ugh I have it."

"What?" Asked Green.

"That feeling."

"What that something's wrong?" Said Green.

"Yeah..."

"Look, it's Red, she's probably just met a dolphin or something like that, you know how much she loves the ocean." Said Green, looking at SC.

"Hmm...I guess your right." Said SC, feeling slightly reassured by this.

Red turned to the shark and in a final act of desperation before she ran out of air, kicked it in the nose as hard as she could, causing the shark to turn away and flee. She struggled up to the surface and gasped for air when she got to the top, she climbed onto the jet-ski, breathing heavily. She was having a panic attack. Red tried to drive the jet-ski back, but her hands were shaking to much, so she just sat there, sobbing and trying to cover the wounds with her bare hands. She ripped a piece of her shirt off to cover the wounds, but it bled right through. Properly hyperventilating now, she looked down in the water and thought of how she was going to alert her friends, but she didn't see any way of doing that. She was going have to wait. But what if she bled out? 

On the shore, the others were still waiting, most of them now sitting down and chatting with each other. Everyone had expected Red to take a while, so they weren't worried. An hour passed and that's when they all started to worry, as the sun had set and it was now almost pitch black.

"You know, she's probably just lost track of time." Mango tried to reassure everyone, but even he, who wasn't an overthinker and the adult in the group, was worried about her.

Red was still sat on the boat until she finally made the decision to swim to shore. It was quite a long way, but she didn't care. Her hands were still shaking and the jet-ski had run out of gas, so she jumped into the now freezing water and started swimming. The water felt like it was freezing her inside out, but her survival instincts had kicked in and she was only focusing on that one thing. Surviving. As she got closer to shore, the others spotted her and started shouting and screaming her name. Her chest was aching, her body was freezing, her wounds were burning, but she didn't care. Red stumbled up and knelt down in the sand, still waist high in water but not being able to stand anymore. Despite being fully clothed and dry, SC waded over to her. She tried to stand up when SC was coming over to her, but just ended up falling into his arms. He and the others carried her onto dry land and Yellow and Blue ran to the nearby car to get the med kit. They came back soon after and quickly covered her wounds in bandages and compresses. No-one had time to ask questions, because by this time Red's whole body was shaking and everyone was wrapping towels around her. Red's eyes were slowly drooping and flickering closed. She was so tired.

"Don't let her fall asleep! She could have concussion!" Said Yellow urgently.

"Red Red Red l-look at me, look at me!" Said SC, holding her head.

Red's eyes flickered back open and she looked up at SC.

"S-Stay with me..ok?" SC said softly, giving her a loving smile.

She weakly smiled back and used all of remaining energy to stay awake for as long as she could. Luckily, Yellow and Blue were able to have a quick examination, clearing that she didn't have concussion, but she did have internal and external bleeding and she needed to be taken to hospital.

Thanks for reading! You guys on tumblr get this story first I haven't posted it on my wattpad page yet lol

[coffeeandritalin]

Questions and intrusive thoughts as I watch episode two of Cang Yue Jin Ming/Till the End of the Moon. (Possible spoilers ahead.)

"Let him suffer a little for now." - Like... no... like... my pal... this is how you create demon gods -_-

Oh she's going to let him get up

WHAT!? SHe actually let him kneel all night? WTF!?

How do you sleep with that huge hair accessory on? Why aren't you sleeping under the covers!? Why aren't you sleeping on the pillow!? What is happening here!? Is this some cultivation thing I'm not aware of?

Her over-determination to be prejudiced against him in order to create tension and misunderstanding between them is a little bit too much for me. (But to be fair, I also did not have to go through witnessing everyone I care about get murdered by him so *shrug*. I think it's just hard for me to be on her side because I know (or think I know) that the story is about how he does have the possibility for good in him... idk.)

Ooooh here's the elder sister. LOL of course she's an absolute angel and handing out food to the poor compared to the vicious Ye Xiwu who pays people to "abduct" her and makes her husband kneel outside in the snow for 3 days X-D

Lol the maid and master aren't even trying to talk about this in hushed voices. The people are definitely here for the congee AND the gossip. I bet they're all huddling together after they get their bowl of food so they can all string together everything that's been said.

Okay, yeah. The older sister looks interested in the Sixth Prince. Why don't they just get married then?

Ooooooh hand touching

Huh magical telepathic evil crow

Wait why would Tantai Jin also not appearing in front of Sixth Prince mean Sixth Prince will fall for Ye Xiwu? Is this implying that Sixth Prince is bi?????

You didn't close your door before going to spy on him? Like... this is how ... YOU'RE LETTING ALL THE HEAT/AC OUT!!!

Yes, please have just a tiny bit of sympathy for him. (I totally get where she's coming from with her prejudice. I just... want them to.... kith. Is that so much to ask for? *hides face behind hands*)

Ok... real talk though. He's been ostracized and bullied and tortured all his life. The fact that he's not out and about just kicking people already - I feel like this says something about his actual (not devil-influenced) nature. But also, like his level of apathy and disregard for himself just hurts T.T. (Like, I get part of his deal is that he can't display/have emotions or something like that.... but this apathy feels different from that. Like, I didn't expect them to hit this real this early. Geez.)

Why... why would you tell someone that? Like... that doesn't seem like much motivation for him to be patient and keep holding on...

It's the dead of winter! It's cold as f*** outside. Why do you have the window open!? You're letting all the heat out!

Where is this bone located? .... >.> ... >.> don't think it don't think it don't think it penis don't think it don't think it

So is he just going to continue wearing his wet inner clothes? Is this not how one catches colds and fevers and die in ancient dramas?

Or did they prepare inner clothes for him? Because they seem magically dry now.

Is she... sleeping fully clothed? And with the headpiece still on? (Like I'll give a pass for before since she unintentionally fell asleep, but...) *pinches nose bridge* Like this might be the most unrealistic and nonsensical part of the whole drama for me.

There's only one pillow on the bed. Why would you think that he sleeps with you?

X-D Chuntao is like her baidu X-D I love it

OH Thank you! You're having a revelation.

Okay... but like... how does the whip not create a princess and the pea situation? The whip is just placed under the one-inch thick mattress. How does it not create a bump in the mattress surface? Did they carve out a little whip-shaped hole for storing the whip so that it doesn't create a bump?

He's just going to sleep with bloody clothes on. Actually no. Bigger issue. He's also sleeping fully clothed. This is ridiculous. Like how does the hairpin thing not accidentally poke a hole into his head?

Ah yes... the classic one-person-has-a-fever-so-the-other-person-has-to-cuddle-them-scene

or maybe not

Poor Chuntao. The poor maid just wants to sleep.

Ok. At this moment. I can totally understand Chuntao needing to stay fully clothed when going to sleep. But she's the only one who gets a pass at the moment.

I love how in ancient dramas, passed out/comatose patients are always so cooperative and manage to drink their medicine.

Why is the fever still so high? Like, d***, how effective was Chinese herbal medicine back then? It's been less than 2 minutes since you've feed him those meds. (Although, tbf I guess she also doesn't know how the medicine from the mortal realm works.)

Immortals get fevers.

So she makes it seem like she has no experience being a mortal. Does that mean that immortals don't come from mortals cultivating into immortality? Or do they get their memories wiped when they do become immortals?

You're going to make him sleep sitting up? Also, do really only have two blankets? Isn't this supposed to be some very powerful military family? Everyone is allotted one blanket and that's it? I guess they gotta stay frugal in case war randomly breaks out.

X-D X-D X-D actually she is possessed

Why... why does her family spoil her like this? Is it just because she's the youngest? They spoil her... but apparently only with food and attention but not with blankets.

Ah... I feel like they're setting things up to pit Ye BingChang against Ye XiWu with how much they dismiss YBC and spoil YXW. I would be hella resentful if I was YBC.

Also, like why does everyone in this family randomly dislike (or at least not think highly of) YBC? She seems like the standard definition of a well-behaved daughter.

Who wouldn't like her? Apparently the rest of your family...

What's in the dish wash tub? Are those blocks of ice? Oh. Yes. They're blocks of ice to torture him.

He can control flies? Is this like Gandalf talking to moths?

Ok but then how did you know it was her who drugged the pastry?

Oooooh that's why she got married to him and before her older sister.

Also, guess this is why she needs Tantai Jin to not appear in front of Xiao Lin too. Cancel the bi-Xiao Lin theory.

Also, how serendipitous that drugged-her just happened to run into drugged-him. Did that aphrodisiac also have a homing device built into it?

Why would she tell him the truth though? Just want to make sure her hubby has blackmail material against her?

[shootsun]

I'm not dead!

just...seasonal depression kicks my ass every year and i wasn't expecting it to hit so soon lol

have an original short horror story to celebrate spooky season

tw: dead thing(s), trypophobia warning, drowning mention/implied drowning, bile mention, hair, mild violence, horror themes

/if you really wanna set the mood, I'd recommend listening to this video (it's apparently audio taken from a video/horror game, there are no jump scares, nor loud noises, just quiet humming)/

---------------

The surface of the lake, usually a constant source of movement from the currents and wind alike, is still and flat as a sheet of obsidian. It holds no reflections, swallowing the dim light of the stars in black water, and fog hangs above it all, so thick he can barely see the trees on the other distant side.

He can't quite remember how he got here.

It’s beautiful, and he almost takes a step closer to the shore, but he freezes when he hears the stilted humming of a wordless song echo out from deep within the mists. He can’t tell who’s singing, but as seconds slip by, the song grows more and more familiar.

Surely it…it wouldn’t hurt to go closer, right? The voice is calm, and it’s like he can feel the humming curl into his brain. He just wants to know why it's so familiar.

One step, a shuffle of his sneakers, and then two, and then he blinks, feeling icy water splash up his shins. He’s almost knee deep in the freezing lake, and its touch burns as water soaks through his jeans and seeps up the fabric. It shocks him back into thinking, and immediately, he swears and stumbles backwards, almost slipping on the stones and thick mud.

The water splashes and ripples around him, almost loud in the eerie silence, and he realizes that the humming has stopped, letting the noise of him fumbling around in the lake slosh out over the no longer still water.  

His breath hitches, caught in his throat; he needs to move, to get out of the lake, but the humming returns, closer now, and his mind seems to grow fuzzy around the edges.

Something splashes in the distance, and blearily, he looks at the slow ripples as they make their way across the lake and curl past his calves and onto the shore behind him.

There’s a breath taken in the humming, and it whistles, like through torn lungs, and he blinks, taking half a step backwards when the voice comes back stronger.

He freezes once more, but it’s not as hazy this time, with each break in the song, the fear creeps a little closer, the urge to run a little louder, but it’s too late. He can see what is singing.

The ripples are small waves now, and the source is silhouetted against the fog, wading through the murk as if it were only a few feet deep, and not twenty where it stands.

It’s thirty feet away, fifteen, ten – and with each step it takes, the humming grows, echoing tenfold until he can’t hear the tune any more, but rather a roaring of whistling air as it passes through the holes in the body that approaches him.

He closes his eyes, trying desperately not to see the dead thing that reaches for him, but the monster is imprinted on the back of his eyelids.

It’s covered in holes, tiny, little holes, across every expanse of visible skin, like thousands upon thousands of tiny fish had eaten away at doughy flesh, leaving nothing but this thing behind. Water sloughs from the lower pits, suspiciously dark and chunky. The noise, the humming, emanates from every other crevice, and he flinches as something cold and wet trails across his cheek, and then the other.

It rasps something out, its voice too close, far too close, to his ear, and he can hear the wet clack of teeth click with every word, but he can’t focus on what it whispers to him. It laughs, and he flinches again, the wet, sticky, feeling on his face never leaving. 

Maybe if he thinks hard enough, it'll vanish.

'Take a deep breath and count, count to ten, and it'll all be a dream,' he tells himself, but the noise buzzing in his ears calls him a liar.

He sucks in a breath, and feels it freeze in his lungs as he opens his eyes. What he notices first are what he assumes are swaths of black, dripping, fur on the arms that extend towards him. His eyes flick down, and his heart rate triples, the strange texture forgotten.

It’s touching him – holding onto his face with rotting hands.

He chokes and tries to wrench himself away, but the hands only press deeper into his skin, and bile churns in his gut when he registers he can feel the holes in the hands against his cheeks.  

Thrashing wildly, he jerks backwards, only for his feet to sink deeper into the freezing mud and send him falling back into the lake.

Frigid water coats him, and the urge to gasp is overwhelming, his lungs screaming for oxygen as everything starts to hurt and the thing follows him down into the black lake. 

What he thought was fur turns out to be hair, long stringy black hair, that surrounds him as he fruitless flails against the dead hands.

Under the water, its white pitted face seems to materialize inches away from his nose, and he stares into empty sunken eye sockets as the black hair floats around them. There are holes in the flesh of its cheeks, its chin, it’s forehead. 

He can’t look away, and its teeth, all green and bone shown through chewed lips, curve into a smile before the tendrils of hair lash around his wrist, his neck, forces its way down his throat and up his nose and through his eyes and it hurts, it’s so cold and it fucking wiggles its way inside and he can’t breathe and he’s dying surrounded by humming and hair and-

He shoots forward, screaming and entangled in his bed sheets, his hands slamming towards his face to rip the hair out of his nose, his mouth, his brain, but there’s nothing there but his own skin.

Sweat soaked, but whole and alone, no rotting hands, no black hair, no water.

Frantic eyes bounce around the room, terrified and desperate. His lungs heave, and he sobs, curling his knees to his chest. He’s alone, he’s home, in his own bed. 

'A dream,' he mouths, afraid if he speaks, the noise will shatter the sight of his bedroom and drag him back into black water. 

Shaking, he backs himself to the wall, and tracks the moon through his window till the sun bloodies the morning sky.

He waits until midmorning, when the sun has coated the room in a pale-yellow light, before he moves from his corner. Crawling to the edge of his bed, he takes a deep breath and sighs out through his mouth, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion. He lets his feet swing to the floor and they land with a squelch.

Ice floods his veins as he shakily looks down.

It’s only then that he sees the still wet, muddy footprints that traipse through the house, all the way from his front door to his bed.

[pandagoreng]

Facebook memories just made me remember that when I was a teenager, I used to like writing notes about whatever it is that was in my head— mostly about relationships. I was definitely young and dumb, but my notes were somewhat valid because I was in a relationship or a situationship lol.

This made me want to start writing it again, but because I have not been in a romantic relationship for so long (haha), I am actually triggered to write about how healing comes in waves.

I was too young to define whether the relationship that I was in was toxic or not. But coming out from it, I felt a carved loneliness for the very first time. It was not my first letting go of someone, but perhaps because of my age, I was more aware and conscious about what my heart was feeling. I had to hit my own chest because hurting my physics would somewhat lessen the heartache—or so I thought.

I clammed. I cried. I shut up and shut down. I pretended I was busy, but I went to the bathroom and cried. Apparently these moments were still very vivid in my head, and that made me wonder— if I have not forgotten about it, does this mean that I have not healed, am not healing, and am bound to my past?

______________________

There was this time when I was still vulnerable and a person came around, trying to just be there. I was not ready. I kept creating lines and tried to find their most littlest mistakes, so it could convince me that this was not the right timing, and that person is not the right one. I had to create a fake sense of being in control rather than leaving it to an unforeseen open ending, because I fear abandonment.

On and on, when this person finally got tired of waiting and actually left, I would wonder— Was I not that worthy? Was it that easy to leave me out? Am I not special?

I blamed the timing when I shouldn’t have blamed anyone, really. I shouldn’t even have blamed myself, because I hadn’t known better that time.

Flings after, it was easy to shove everyone off. I was prioritizing myself, my growth, my interests. I was surrounded with friends, I didn’t have the time to fall in then loneliness pit. I didn’t realize that the wall I built is now sky-high.

Years passed by, everyone close to me had moved on to a new life stage. Instead of jealousy, I’m only feeling strong and independent. I literally treat myself like a queen, and I’d accept no less than what I deserve. But this time, loneliness creeped in and stayed a little more while before I push it off again.

Believing I am now standing invincibly on my feet, I said “Okay, let’s try again. Let’s see where this goes. No matter what they did to me, I’d still feel good about myself anyway.”

Boom! Jinxed.

I felt worthless. Again.

The cycle repeats: they came - I created lines - I pushed them away - they left - I felt worthless. Why am I still feeling this way? I made sure that I had 100% confidence in myself when trying it out. Why do I sink still?

Being more honest now, I finally talked it out with some of my closest friends and they reminded me that healing is not linear— it comes in waves. Ah, right. Why am I so hard on myself?

Some days I’d feel invincible, my self-love soars— but someday I may fear abandonment, I might cry over defining my self-worth based on how much they are willing to love me.

But hey, after every cycle, it takes me a shorter time to get back up. Once I realize it’s time to get out from my head’s loop, I swim to the surface and I’m fine again. I always go back loving myself. This is my kind of ‘healing comes in waves’.

No matter what kind of healing you need to go through right now, even with those battle scars, you don’t need to be ashamed of anything. Do remember to go back loving yourself and treating yourself right, because no one can love you more than you do, ya? :)

#healing

[dollhouse-tales]

*looks at Basilyn and Angyami- * I heard the word ship, so i can here for the good stuff 👀/ih

OKAY OKAY OKAY SO

Basilyn and Angyami,,, There are a couple AUs I was thinking about them in,,,

---

From the theatre side of things, Basil and Rosalyn are both in the art isle essence as two art understudies,,, and I imagine them working together. Basil using his sewing and fabric knowledge to show Rosie how farbic would look draped over something, so she can make her sculpture as accurate as possible??? so cute!! Or them going on inspiration dates??? wahhh,,, art duo,,,

Basil also has an official theatre counterpart who's a supernatural gardener. He's an immortal doll created by the Beldam and he just takes care of exotic flowers on the surface,,, and I could imagine Fear seeing him take care of the flowers from the window <333

As for AUs... I think flower shop AU would be a fun one because they're both just a little bit associated with flowers/ih but how fun would it be if Basil owned a flower shop,,, and Rosie owned a store next to his,,, I think a detective au with these two would also work so well. Imagine them being partners in the business, and fighting together,,, solving mysteries together,,, imagine Basil got his signature scars taking a hit for Rosie AHHHHHH (I say signature as if every version of basil has them when it's really just the IDV version lol) also imagine them doing good cop bad cop but Rosie's getting WAYYY too into being bad cop. She'd be an adorable bad cop. Hedgehogify the suspects/j

---

Angyami has been getting so much content from magic mal theatre lore drops to the white day au to that shipnon going on your blog with their burning questions, it's hard not to think about them KSJDFKJSDNF

i think i'll skip over their theatre ship content for now because it's just Agaric going "okay but that's kind of hot" after being murdered for the 39402934 time and we all know it/j

my first thought was. what if au or story but they're BOTH villains??? because we have Red Text and Slasher Yami [whom I have not shared much about yet. but my messed up mind knows exactly how I wanna go about Slasher Yami <33], I'm sure there's an Angel,,, somewhere out there, being hot and evil. But what??? What if both evil and hot??? when will we have that??/ih

*shoves bin of various ideas aside* i am very normal about them I swear.

Also like... imagine an AU where Angel's some type of traveling salesman who takes custom commissions [which is how he makes a living to be able to live this life??] and he meets Yami, who's a local to the area?? Maybe he's like Hu Tao, who helps the deceased rest, and helps lost spirits pass on??? so many ideas so many thoughts,,,

Or an artist muse au, where Angel's a part of a rich or well-known family and he has Yami as a muse??? Using him as a model for his ideas, getting his input on ideas, just things like that,,, and him slowing falling in love with everything about Yami because he just,,, heheheh

Also just thought about this, but what if. TWST AU, or something similar where all the IDV ocs are sorted into 1 of 7 dorms based off some type of criteria. Yes there would be what is essentially an overblot but that's the fun part. Imagine the chaos of essentially a bunch of adults with the impulse control of 12-year-olds just slinging magic around without much of a care.

Chaotic.

[theotheroccassionalfanficwriter]

Lol I decided to be brave and not to hide using the anon mask. 🌝🤡

Have you ever thought about this NSFW/Explicit possessive Zhongli pounding reader in front of their stalkers? Like, there are these weird stalkers who always take a peek at reader whenever they got the chance. Zhongli finally had enough of it and decided to show them who owns this puss—🤐

"Pity. A mere human cannot touch what's mine. You see this seal on her abdomen? Yes, it means my seed is there to take place."

🥵💦 water pls

Thank you for waiting! ╰(￣ω￣ｏ)

Also you're tougher than all of the U.S. Marine for going non-anon lmao mad respect (≧∀≦)ゞ From the moment I saw your asked I knew it would awaken something in me and it did lmao it took me so long since I had to make sure I'd have enough horny vocab for this lmao and so let me water and quench your thirst now lmao.

Thanks for the first ever womb tattoo ask. Photo of the womb tattoo included.

CW: Public Sex, Mind Break, Dub-con

Marking You Gently

Summary: Zhongli appreciated how you were honest with him by revealing how your past lovers were run off by the amount of stalkers you had and he was pleased with how dependent you were on him to get rid of them, he just never thought he'd have to resort to drastic measure to stake his claim not that he was complaining.

--

Zhongli was keenly aware of your innate ability to attract stalkers. This much you had admitted to him when he had been on the receiving end of a particularly foolish one. Of course, this had not deterred him from courting you at all, if any, he had enjoyed the challenge of keeping you safe and staking his claim on you to your stalkers.

And you were so cooperative too, you had let him gift you accessories in his colors and wore it proudly on a day to day basis. That you spent most nights in his bed and company only made his win sweeter. Zhongli strived to ensure that you would be happy and content in a relationship with him and if that meant curbing his own stalkerish tendencies...well...it was a small price to pay.

It was this confidence that led him to not properly pay attention when one of your stalkers had gotten particularly...courageous.

“Zhongli~” you whined at him, worry and annoyance in your eyes, as you clung to his arm. Your soft breasts and erect nipples were a welcome sensation to his arm, “I can’t find some of my panties~”

Zhongli thought for a moment, trying to remember if he had forgotten to return some of your panties he had used to fap with, “Have you checked the laundry?”

“I did!” You were tearing up, voice about to cry “I-I think some of them got it again…” You clutched at his arm tightly shivering at the thought of your stalkers being able to easily invade Zhongli’s tightly warded home.

At your words, all thought of fingering your bare pussy fell out of Zhongli’s mind, he didn’t like seeing you scared and teary eyed. He kissed your forehead, removing his arm from the tender clutches of your soft breasts and enticing nipples to give you a tender hug of comfort.

“Why don’t you accompany me for a while? Until I catch those disgusting vermin?” Zhongli offered, soft smile on his face as he gently rubbed your back.

“Will Hu Tao be fine with that?” You asked, uneasy at inconveniencing the first boyfriend to ever care about you this much.

“Of course” Zhongli replied, kissing you sweetly on your lips.

It was easy then to use sex to calm your frightened self, Zhongli’s kiss grew heated and lascivious as his hands drew teasing circles on your ass and thighs, squeezing it in intervals before teasingly grazing on the folds of your pussy. He squeezes your ass cheeks, spreading it apart before he firmly places his hand below your ass to grab you up.

You cooperate with him, moving your legs to firmly hug his waist, your wet pussy rubbing against his erect cock. You moaned into his kisses, body shivering with delight as you clung to his body.

“Mn~” You moaned as your tongue entwined with his.

The wet sound of kissing seemed loud in Zhongli’s quiet apartment, the panting noises coming from the two of you could be heard clearly. As Zhongli placed you on top of his dining table, hands going under your shirt to fondle your soft breasts and play with your erect nipples.

“Haaa~” You panted as your body arched with pleasure, Zhongli’s long and thick cock was rubbing against your clit.

“Just leave everything to me” He said, as he laid reverent kisses on top of your stomach. Leaving a trail of hickeys that led to your throat. He had already ripped your shirt off your body, exposing your breasts that still carried last night’s marks and your erect nipples which still had his teeth marks surrounding it.

“Forget about all those unpleasant things, my love” He crooned as he kissed you on the pulse beside your neck. His free hand was teasing your wet pussy, fingering it until he knew that you would be able to take all of him all the way in.

“Zhong-” You moaned “-please! Put it in!” You begged brokenly as his masterful ministrations on your body left you a panting and moaning mess.

Zhongli hummed in satisfaction, “And what do we say?”

“Plea-please” You began shakily, “put your co-cock in my slutty pushy!”

You fumbled on the last word, moaning it out as Zhongli thrusted his thick cock inside you in one strong move, not bothering to wait until you finished speaking. He moved his hips back and forth, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot again and again until you could only moan and call out his cock with a loving voice.

You were oblivious to the predatory grin in Zhongli’s face or the way his eyes glinted dangerously as his mind thought of a solution to your ability to attract stalkers. He licked his lips, growing aware of the change in his teeth to fangs.

He bent over to suck on your nipples, his hands preoccupied with keeping your legs spread apart as he thrusted his cock against your wall.

You keened, your body arching and pussy clenching on his dick as you came, Zhongli moaned as he came with you, spilling his seed inside your clenching pussy and uterus, he spilled so much cum, as if he had not just creampied you last night until the early hours of the morning.

He collapsed on top of you as you lay limply on the table, panting and pussy twitching from the earth shattering orgasm you had.

“Have you heard of womb tattoos?” Zhongli asked as he lovingly and gently cradled your face, kissing you on your cheek.

You blushed, “No, I haven’t.”

He hummed, not bothering to unseathe himself from your warm and comfortable pussy, “It is typically used for lewd purposes,” Zhongli explained as he let his hand drop from your face, gently tracing a line from your neck, passing through your left tit, playfully rubbing your nipple, before he ultimately ends it on the area above your crotch “But it can also be used as a way to repel...shall we say your disgusting stalkers?”

You let out a soft “oh!”

“Would it be painful?” You asked, worried that tattooing it on that area would be too much for your pain tolerance.

“It wouldn’t” Zhongli assured you “I would never let you feel any pain.”

He smiled at you with so much affection that you easily agreed to his solution, you didn’t bother to give any input to what Zhongli was going to do, you had so much trust in him that you simply waited for the day he’d marked you and solved your most annoying and hated problem.

You hadn’t thought to ask what it would do, believing that Zhongli would make the tattoo a repellent against your stalkers. Which wasn’t wrong per se, it wasn’t until the tattoo was put into use did you register what it would actually do.

--

For Zhongli, it was normal blissful week of having you in his arms, regaling you with Liyue’s rich history and flirting with you as a gentleman would. It was his day off, and thus he had brought you to Wangshu Inn for a short staycation for the weekend. His strong presence at your side had deterred even your most courageous and stubborn stalkers, not that it had stopped them from trying to take a peek at you when you bathed or changed clothes.

A quick petrification to some of the most vile ones was an easy way to scare off the rest of them. By the time he was done turning some of them into stone, you were finished with your business and happily ensconced yourself into his arms. Purposefully not paying attention to the new additions on the inn’s decoration.

“Shall I take you to solve some geo puzzles?” He offered, his hand resting lowly on your hip, just above your crotch, firmly gripping you at the sides.

“Okay~!” You happily complied, leaning even closer to him much to his visible satisfaction.

While you were happily clinging into Zhongli, listening to his engaging explanation of how the mechanism worked and its purpose, you were unaware of the group of stalkers that were watching you from behind. They were lying on the ground, using the natural reflective surface of the water to take a peek at your crotch that was exposed due to the crotchless panties Zhongli had you wear underneath your clothes.

From their binoculars, they could see how wet you were, cum dribbling slowly out of your pussy that had them salivating and achingly hard. They were imagining that it was their cock being shoved to your exquisite pussy, that it was their cum that was dribbling down the folds of your thoroughly used cunt.

They were so immersed in their fantasy that they had not noticed Zhongli’s murderous glare as he sealed them together as if they were Azhdaha.

“It seems that none of you had learned the lesson” He spoke coldly, glaring with complete and uncharacteristic derision in his eyes as he watched them visibly turn pale.

You stood behind Zhongli, trembling with fear, you had never seen him quite this mad. It wasn’t until he had pulled you to the front, your dress shoved up to your waist and exposing your wet cunt and glowing tattoo did your heart start beating faster.

“Zho-zhongli?” You called out to your lover, trembling in his arms, as your legs shookt from the lecherous looks of your stalkers.

“Don’t worry my love, it’s about time for them to know who owns you” He whispered in your ear, making your pussy visibly throb and grow wetter.

You could feel your mind slowly turning hazy as your body heated up. The tattoo glowed brightly as Zhongli began fingering you. You were helpless and growing weaker, only capable of leaning on his chest, weakly grasping on the sleeves of his clothes as you began to moan.

Your legs automatically spread themselves, exposing the pink and cum-filled inside of your pussy, letting your stalkers know that Zhongli had thoroughly fucked and came inside your pussy earlier.

“Zhong-nnn!” You tried to call his attention, wanting to put a stop at his action but as his fingers curled inside your cunt, you let out a seductive moan that went straight to the cocks of every male in your vicinity.

“Good girl,” Zhongli praised as he watched your hand reach for the zipper of his pants, “Show them how much you want my cock.”

You nodded, eyes hazy, as you turned around and shakily knelt on the ground, your hands fumbled to get his cock out. You happily mouthed through the fabric of his pants as you tried to get his thick and long cock out of its constraints. Zhongli’s large hand was a comforting weight on your head, petting you as praises flowed out of his mouth.

“Such a good slut, not needing more instructions on her master’s part” He praised “Look at you happily fucking your mouth to my cock the moment you see it.”

You senselessly blowed his dick, tongue swirling on its tip and swallowing all of length until it hit the back of your throat again and again. You had long since forgotten about your stalkers or the fact that you were giving them a show.

Your mind was filled only with the thought of Zhongli’s cock and his cum. You whined when you felt him pull away, crying at the lost of the warm and comforting weight of his cock on your tongue.

“Shhhh” He appeased you, “turn around love, put your hands on the wall of the seal.”

You did as he said, body automatically positioning itself to a lewd pose, your tits were pressed on the wall of the seal, making your stalkers gulp and try to reach for it only to be electrified by the seal’s wall.

Zhongli smirked at their audaciousness.

“Cock~! I want your want cock~!” You cried out as you bent your body further, until your ass was pushed up to the air, shaking your hips to entice Zhongli. Your legs were spread apart to show him the pussy he loved and owned.

“Good girl” Zhongli purred as he took his cock and guided it to the folds of your pussy. He teased your cunt, sliding the head of his cock up and down the wet folds of your pussy making you whine and try to push your pussy towards his cock.

He slapped your ass, “Behave.”

You did as you were told, there was no autonomy in your mind anymore, the glowing symbol on your abdomen had thoroughly wiped out any sense in your brain. Zhongli had reduced you to walking, talking flesh light.

With a look of superiority, Zhongli thrusted his cock inside your waiting pussy, he maintained eye contact with your stalkers as he fucked you from behind. He mercilessly plunged his cock in your abused pussy, ramming it again and again against your cervix, the pain turning into pleasure. Each thrust of his had the tattoo glowing drawing attention to it as you moaned and drooled from the pleasure. You were no longer the proper and energetic lady that was known in Liyue.

Zhongli’s cock and womb tattoo had reduced you to this lewd slut that craved his cock and cum. Your mind was filled with sex and pleasure, begging him for more,

“Please! Give me your seed!” You cried “Breed me! Ahn~!”

Zhongli watched as some of your stalkers threw away their dignity and started fapping to your lewdness.

He pulled you away from the wall, hoisting you up and fucking you as your arms automatically wrapped itself backwards on his neck. He made out with you sloppily while his cock fucked your pussy, bulge visible on your stomach and slightly deforming the glowing tattoo.

You came from the immense pleasure but Zhongli didn’t bother stopping even as you lay limp and unconscious in his arms. He kept on fucking you, hands groping your wildly bouncing chest as your stalkers started pumping their cocks faster.

He turned to them and taunted, “Pity. A mere human cannot touch what's mine.” He placed a kissed to the side of your throat as his eyes grew darker and his voice dripped with possessiveness that belonged to a dragon, “You see this seal on her abdomen?”

He smiled darkly as he saw recognition on their eyes, it was only natural for them to know what it was considering that they all had the same thoughts towards you. The difference was that he had won and they were losers, pitiful humans who would never have you nor have you sire their spawn.

With great delight, Zhongli crushed all of their dreams as he confirmed the worst of their thoughts, “Yes, it means my seed is there to take place."

And then he spilled all of his cum inside your pussy, spilling it all the way through your uterus as the mark glowed brightly before slowly dimming and sinking back beneath your skin.

It was a clear sign that Zhongli had successfully impregnated you.

“Don’t ever step foot in Liyue again” He ordered, eyes glowing bright as he cursed them out of the land.

He left with you in tow, fixing your clothes and pushing back the cum that dripped on the inside of your thighs back to your pussy. Zhongli smiled at your sleeping form, content and pleased with the knowledge that none of your stalkers would ever bother you again.

“I wonder how you would act with other variations of this tattoo?”

[frenziedslashers]

Lol hello again! I have returned with another oddly specific headcannon ask. Could you do headcannons on how the Sinclair brothers would react if their s/o sneezed so hard and so aggressively that they hit their head on a surface and pass out?

Sinclair Brothers reacting to s/o sneezing and hitting their head:

Bo Sinclair:

Bo wasn't really sure what was going on at first.

One second he heard you sneezing, the next he heard a loud "THUMP"

"You alright, darlin'?" He'd ask, before reaching up from his spot to investigate what happened

If you're holding your face or bleeding he may freak out a bit.

He'll grab your face in his hands with a scowl

"What the hell did ya do?"

After you explain it he'll just roll his eyes and tell you to go and sit down on the couch. Getting you some tissues if your nose is bleeding

He'll get you an ice pack too and kind of just hold you.

He might make fun of you for a while after, too. Unless you get bothered by the teasing, then he might stop.

Lester Sinclair:

Freaking the fuck OUT

"Are you okay?" "What the hell did you do?" "Are you bleeding? Fuck, you're bleeding, sit down."

He'd be running getting you tissues and ice, coming back with a whole first aid kit, too. Reaching out to hold you while you sat in the chair.

"Lest, I ain't dyin'." "You don't know that, what if you bleed out, or- have a concussion or somethin'!"

He is very much a worry wart, and since he's worried, Jonesy is as well.

You'd have to fight for room to breath between Lester and Jonesy smothering ya In affection.

Vincent Sinclair:

Much like Lester he is freaking out

Just he is a bit more collected than his little brother

It would be a good way to get him away from his work, and you might even tease about it when he races to your side with the tissues and ice-packs

"Shit, might have to do this more often if it gets you away from your work this easy."

He'd definitely scowl at you, and sigh at your words.

Please never do this on purpose, though. He loves you too much to have you hurting yourself to try and get his attention

He would take the rest of the day away from his work to hold and make sure that you're okay.

Would definitely do anything you ask him to

Expect to be pampered.

[subspencer]

Okayyyy so I’m in a hotel rn and in the bathroom there’s a big tub and right next to it is a shower and a wall that separates it BUT half way up the wall is just a giant window so if you’re in the shower you can watch someone in the tub and I literally can’t get the thought of arriving at a hotel on a case and seeing that set up and waiting until Spencer is in the shower before “innocently” taking a bath at the same time and then teasing him by masterbating in the tub while he watches in the shower before yk,,, shower sex 💀 okay it’s late and I need to sleep apparently 😂

okay so i changed it a little bit but ! whew ! it’s finally here (sorry this is over a month late lol <3). reader can be gender neutral. 

cw: mutual masturbation, perv!spencer.    wc: 1.4k

Spencer had this small, annoying rule. Whenever the team was out on a case, sex was off the table. Something about maintaining focus, or whatever.

He was fine with sharing the same room, but no sex. And sometimes, that made it so much worse. He was always at a fingertip’s length away, curled in bed next to you while you slept in his arms. Pressed closely together, but only in the most innocent of ways. 

This self-imposed rule your boyfriend had was, in summation, fucking stupid. Because how did he possibly think that abstaining from sex would improve your focus on anything? If anything, you were wound even tighter after days of busting ass at work and nights without any stress relief. 

He could sense it had that effect on you. Before bed that night, Spencer crawled onto the mattress behind you, planning on doing something small to help with that. He would’ve let you spend hours mindlessly scrolling through your phone, resting your head on his chest while he played with your hair for as long as you needed to feel a little more relaxed. 

Instead, you swatted his hand away as soon as he got near you.

“Fuck off, Spence. I’m not in the mood,” you grumbled. He knew from prior experience that playing with your hair sometimes had the opposite effect of relaxing; it tended to lead to more physical places in no time. Things that Spencer ruled against doing while on cases.

“Fine,” he sighed, rolling off the bed. “I’m gonna shower first, if that’s alright with you.”

“That’s fine,” you rolled your eyes, barely containing your annoyance as you flipped over to your side, continuing to scroll through your phone in an effort to ignore him. The sound of his footsteps rescinded towards the hotel bathroom, and you tacked on, “I just think it’s rude that you don’t want me to join you!”

Spencer laughed at your stubborn display, walking into the bathroom as he shed his clothes. When you didn’t hear the door close right away, you snuck a small peek behind you. You could see his reflection in the bathroom mirror, slowly fogging up from the steam. Still, you got a good eye full of his bare torso, toned and speckled with the occasional, tiny freckle or mole. 

“We’re on a case,” he reprimanded, poking his head out of the doorframe to give you a stern look, right before shutting the door behind himself. “We can do that when we get home!” 

You groaned and flipped onto your back, irritated as ever. If Spencer was so adamant about his no sex on cases rule, then you figured you might as well get some rest. But several minutes of tossing and turning later, you remembered that the hotel room also came with a decently sized bathtub. And what better way to actually relax than with a bath?

You grabbed your towel from its discarded place on the armchair, stripping down and wrapping yourself in it before padding toward the bathroom. Spencer squeaked when he heard the door open, a little out of surprise as he saw your shadow through the foggy glass shower door as you walked inside.

“I told you, we can’t,” he said with the slightest bit of disappointment.

“Relax, Spencer. I’m here for the bath, not you.” You ignored the shower and moved around to the other end of the bathroom, running water into the tub that was situated behind a tiled wall that separated it from the shower.

He sighed, half relieved and mildly offended, and dropped his guard. He dipped his head back under the shower stream, letting hot water run over his face and through his hair, beading down his body. When he looked back up, he noticed something.

A small window on the tiled wall of the shower, looking directly at the bathtub.

You had your back to him, bending down to test the temperature of the running water on your hand as you waited for it to fill up. The tiny bath towel doing barely anything to cover you. 

Spencer tore his eyes away, an instinctual reaction telling him that he probably shouldn’t be looking. But just as quickly, he peeked again, in time to catch you dropping the towel and climbing in. He couldn’t see anything under the foaming bubbles, but he could see your face as you turned to rest your head against the other wall.

Your eyes were closed as you leaned back, sinking into the soothing warm water. He hadn’t seen you look so calm this entire week, and it made him smile to see you this way. But then he saw your chest rise and fall with a deep sigh. Followed by a tiny whine that he could tell you were trying to keep quiet. And suddenly he wasn’t looking at you with adoring eyes anymore. 

He pushed his wet curls back and stepped closer to the window, watching to see what you’d do next. Maybe he was dreaming about it. Maybe he was more affected by his own rule than he thought, and this was his brain getting back at him for not giving in sooner. But moments pass and he knows he’s not imagining it.

Your hands were under the water. The only thing he could see was your face and your knees bent upwards, leaving him to guess what was happening under the surface. Your bottom lip slipped into your mouth, held firmly between your teeth as you lolled your head to the side, and he knew. He’d seen that face enough times.

Hot water ran over his shoulders as he pressed as close to the window as he could; feeling only slightly guilty and inappropriate for observing you do such a private thing. But he’d done that to you several times before, so surely he could justify himself for peeking in. 

A whimper escaped your lips, and his hand moved down to find his cock, absentmindedly wrapping his fingers around it as you continued. One of your hands came up from the surface just briefly enough for him to see you wrap it over your chest, tugging one of your nipples, and he started to move his own against his length. 

He picked up pace, trying to keep his own moans at bay when he saw your legs twitch. A sure sign that you found a perfect rhythm for yourself. Your mouth fell open, and he’d trained his eyes on you hard enough to be convinced he saw your lips silently speak his name. His hips bucked into his palm. His other hand slammed down to the wall, bracing himself against it as he drew himself nearer to orgasm. 

Your eyes screwed even tighter as you felt a knot in your lower stomach wind up. He fucked up; moaned out your name too loudly, and you opened them, quickly finding him in front of you, behind the window. 

Even with the surprise, you were too close to stop. And when you realized what he was doing behind that wall, you couldn’t possibly have. You mewled his name loud enough for him to hear, rolling your hips to grind yourself against your fingers as the knot grew. 

Spencer’s perfect lips parted. Hearing you say his name like that brought him so fucking close. He wanted to forget his own stupid rule. He was half a second from telling you to come in here and join him, to take you against the shower wall. But he didn’t last. As soon as he heard that familiar, high-pitched whine coming from you as you hit your orgasm, he was painting his release all over himself, covering his hands and abdomen and some of the tile. 

His head dropped against his shaking arm that managed to support him through it all. When he collected himself and looked up again, you were gone. The water was still moving from when you must’ve gotten out. 

The glass door opened behind him as you stepped inside, already dripping from your bath. 

“You know, they recommend showering after baths…” you joked, moving under the stream of hot water. Spencer stepped closer, water now running over both of you as the gap between you came down to an inch. You ran a finger over his belly, wiping a small bit of his come before it washed away, and held it up to him before cleaning it off your fingers with your mouth. “Just to make sure you’re all clean.”

[dreamsfreckles]

[6:57p.m.] Whatever Idiot

~

Dream x reader

Fluff

Wholesome bf content 😌 - enjoy!

~

You furrowed your brows in thought.

As much as you loved watching him game with his friends, you got bored sometimes. It’s not like he left you out or ignored you, but today you were craving a little extra love from your 6’3 boyfriend. “Dream,”as his buddies called him, was playing minecraft yet again, just messing around in the SMP. You came to his house an hour or two ago and talked for a bit before he hopped online with the boys. You didn’t mind, of course. Sometimes you’d play with him, while other times you’d just watch; either way it was equally as entertaining. However, today felt super long, even kind of rough. All you wanted to do once the day ended was to fall into your wonderful boyfriend’s arms... But that was kind of hard to do when he was sitting in front of his desk, clicking away on his keyboard and mouse.

You debated your options.

You could bother him to attract his attention, or you could patiently wait for him like the good girlfriend you are...

After much reluctance, you simply decided to just lay on his bed and scroll through tiktok for the time being.

As you aimlessly pass by hundreds of videos... One of them catches your attention.

There’s a video of a girl setting up her phone on a surface to point at a boy who looks to be gaming on a computer.

That looks familiar to your situation...

She then proceeds to walk over to him, sit down facing him in his lap, and then hug him closely whilst he continues playing on the device.

Your heart flutters watching the video.

That was so cute... What would Clay do if you did that to him..?

Glancing up to him from your spot on his bed, you analyze his set up. Is there room for you to fit in his lap? Is there anything that you could potentially knock over? You sit up more to get a better look. He has space in between himself and the desk that looks to be enough space to crawl into... He also looks calm, so you shouldn’t be interupting anything special...

Deciding that this was your chance, you softly stood from your spot on the bed and padded over to the side of him.

“No, Sapnap, you can’t build that here, it’s-“ Clay spoke into his mic, probably ordering Sapnap around.

With a flushed face, you move to stand more in front of him, causing him to look from his monitor, up to you.

“Babe-“

You wordlessly swing your right leg over his thighs and gently sit yourself down in his lap, facing him, and then wrapping your arms around him. Clay froze, his face heating up as he processed what you just did. You relax into his embrace and nuzzle into the side of his neck.

Finally content with your guys’s proximity, you sigh out the four words you have yet to say to him that night.

“I love you, Clay.”

With his game already paused and mic muted, Clay wraps his arms around you and rests his head on yours. He was smiling, his heart filled with warmth. He didnt realize how much he missed being this close to you.

“I love you too.”

After hugging in silence for a few minutes, Clay’s curiosity got the best of him. “Baby?”

“Hmm?” You breathe out.

“Whatcha doin’?” He asks softly.

“Huggin’ you.”

Clay chuckles, closing his eyes once again, and rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“You are being very cute right now.” He confesses, with a light smirk.

Your lips lift into a smile. “I know.”

Clay lets out a soft wheeze, running his fingers through your hair. “Was I ignoring you too much for your liking? You feeling clingy?” He asked jokingly.

You squeeze him a little tighter. “Lil’ bit.”

Clay chcukles, yet again, and crushes you harder into the hug, causing you to let out a strained squeak. “ClAy! tOo mUcH!” You mangage to yell out, successfully making Clay bubble into a fit of wheezes and giggles. Finally feeling merciful, he lets go of you and allows you to sit up and look down at him. Clay gazes at you with stars in his eyes. Every time he looks at you, a wave of excitment hits him. Being with you was always fun; even if you both were sitting in silence, scrolling through Instagram, or watching youtube together.

Clay’s mind started to wander to how you both got into this situation in the first place. You must’ve gotten a little bored while he was playing. You were usually quite content when he played. Maybe you weren’t. Were you always bored when he played? Were you getting sick of his gaming habits? Worry flashed over Clay for a moment. No... You would say something if you got bored... right? Clay didn’t think it was that deep. If there was a real problem, you probably wouldn’t be in his lap...

Right..?

“Clay?” You broke him from his trance. “Oh.” He blinked. “yeah?” You giggled at his dopey face. “You looked a little concerned for a second.” You admitted, bringing your hand up to his face to pinch his cheekbone. Suddenly, a thought washes over you. “Wait.” You panic. “Is there something on my face?” Clay almost laughed. Almost. He felt a wave mischief wash over him. “Yes, actually.” He smirks. “There’s a very tiny spider on your forehead.” Your eyes widen for a moment and it looks like you’re about to spaz out; but before you do, you realize the look on his face is most definitely cap. You immediately glare at him and smack his shoulder. “I hate you.” You scoffed, getting up from his lap. Clay giggles and tries to tug you back. “Wait, I was kidding!” He draws out, whining at your departure from his lap. You hop back into your original spot and scoff. “Yeah, whatever, go back to blowing George or something.” Clay’s jaw drops at your words. “WhaT DID YOU JUST SAY?” He starts to get up from the chair. You look up from your phone, knowing what’s about to happen. “Nope. Nope. Go back to your desk, I’m not starting this with you again.” You deny, shaking your head and directing him to sit back down. Clay stares at you in disbelief. “Wh-“ he looks back to his computer and then back to you. “What do you mean ‘starting this again’-“ he mocks in your voice. You burst out laughing, denying him from coming any closer. “I meAN-“ you say exhasporatedly. “We both know what the fuck you’re about to do and I CAN’T-“ before you could finish your sentence, you were already being thrown over his shoulder. “CLAY!” You screech. “I’M SERIOUS CLAY, I CAN’T-“ Clay shakes his head, already done with you. “Nope you got on my nerves, this is your punishment.” Clay walks out of his room, through the kitchen, and out the patio door, heading straight for his pool. “CLAY I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU-“ and with one final curse from you, Clay flings himself, with you over his shoulder, into his backyard pool.

Clay is already laughing as you rise to the surface of the water, a glare on your face. Clay is wheezing with laughter. You almost felt concerned that he wasn’t breathing. Almost. As his wheezing turns to laughing and laughing turns to giggling, he finally was to the point where he could function. You raise your eyebrows. “Done?” You ask. Clay lets out one last chcukle, walking towards your body half submerged in the water. “Not quite.” He states suggestively, walking up to you until you’re an inch apart in the middle of the pool.

Now, there’s no way you’re letting him back you up against the pool wall like some PUSSY. So you stood your ground in your sopping wet sweatshirt. If anything, YOU were the one who was going to be backing HIM up against some wall.

Clay stares at you expectingly, water driping from his wet hair. You stare right back at him, no sign of emotion. He looks back and fourth between both of your eyes, trying to make you break. However, your stare is much stronger and is quickly causing Clay to panic. You stare harder. ‘Break, break’ you chant in your head. Clays eyes squint. You follow suit.

Clay blinks.

“FUCK”

“HAHAHA IDIOT I WIN!” You rejoice.

Clay sighs, running his hands over his face. “Whatever.” He deadpans. “Lets just get out of here.” He mopes, walking to the stairs of the pool.

You giggle. “Someone’s a sore loser...” you poke, causing Clay to look back at you with a fierce look in his eyes. You laugh and swim up to him, latching yourself onto his wet t-shirt-clad back. “Stop giving me that look, you puppy. I know who you truly are.” You smile up at him innocently. Clay rolls his eyes and smiles.

“Whatever, idiot.”

Lol, hope you liked it! This was my first try writing with the dream team and I plan to write more! Let me know if you have any feedback! Also, I can take requests if anyone is interested :3 thx!

[nanaminokanojo]

[10:00 PM] Ryomen Sukuna

LOG 14 OF MY JUJUTSU KAISEN TIMESTAMP DRABBLES

CHARACTERS: Sukuna X You WORD COUNT: 1,202 GENRE: fluff | kinda smut? | kinda angst | salaryman Sukuna TRIGGER WARNING: nudity | some touching lol | profanity | possessiveness | unhealthy amounts of jealousy lol SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

photo/fanart credits to @/Natsushio on Weibo

"Baby."

Sukuna knows you heard him. Still, you continued walking as if you didn't, going ahead of him about ten paces ahead, your posture and the overall attitude in your gait speaking volumes of your current mood. He easily kept up with you, placing an arm over your shoulder, but much to his surprise, you shrugged it off you and walked the remaining expanse of sidewalk towards your shared apartment. He just watched in annoyance as you walked into the lobby and got into the elevator before him.

"Trouble with your princess?" this nosy grandma, who lived at one of the units at the first floor, asked.

Sukuna just smiled awkwardly, bowing slightly as he passed her by on his way to the elevator. When he finally got into your unit, he found your coat lying on the hallway, picking it up only to see your jeans a few steps ahead then your shirt. He finally found you in the kitchen already wrapped in a robe which you didn't even bother tying up, agitatedly pouring yourself a glass of wine, the cerise liquid sloshing around the glass violently.

You were behaving rather out of character, making a mess out of your clothes when he knew just how much you hated it when he leaves his things scattered about. On top of that, you left the cutlery drawer open with the corkscrew you used on top of the counter, droplets of red wine littering the granite top. You just passed him by without saying anything, refusing to look at him on your way to your bedroom.

I see how it is, he thought, taking long strides to the direction you went. He eyed you sternly, having had enough of your attitude. "Y/N, what's going on?" he demanded.

You flinched visibly at the way he addressed you. He doesn't call you by your name unless he was dead serious about something. "It's nothing. Don't mind me."

"Woman, don't tell me it's nothing when –"

Before he could finish, you walked into the adjoining bathroom, turning on the tap to the tub to tune him out. You were evidently being passive-aggressive now, and he detested it when you did that.

"Just go back to your party. I'm sure everyone's wondering where you've gone," you told him, picking up your glass from the dresser top. "Especially Miss Hanako." You shot him a sardonic smile before taking a swig out of your wine, the way you said the woman’s name dripping with vitriol.

And then it hit him. You've been dishing out barb since you told him you wanted to leave the company party he was partly hosting for his department. You did so when the secretary to the president arrived and started chatting him up. He was now thinking your behavior thereafter had something to do with it. You were fine before that so it could only mean one thing.

He didn't know whether to laugh or what at the thought of it. When he decided to pursue you, he didn't have qualms about it even if you were a good six years younger than him. He knew how problematic it could get having an immature partner, but that's where you were different. You held yourself with such confidence, grace and equilibrium way beyond your age, you shared the same pragmatic mindset he had and you didn't seem to have a proclivity for drama like others your age. You hardly ever fought because of petty things and he loved that about you.

But then, you're still young and he didn't hold it against you that you're suddenly acting like a brat. If anything, he was happy about it because you were never ever jealous. It sometimes made him doubt how you felt about him when you yourself would be pointing at other chicks for him to look at while saying things like, "Baby, look at her ass. Damn, she's sexy." And now that the green-eyed monster is rearing its head to the surface, he couldn't say he didn't like it.

"What about her?" he asked cautiously, making you jump the hoops.

You sneered, the action very intimidating despite your angelic features. “Oh, I don’t know, Sukuna. You tell me. You seemed to be enjoying her company. Don’t stop at my expense.”

He leveled his expressions to you. “Well, she is something, isn’t she? Smart, too.”

“Yeah, you deserve each other,” you hissed, the anger flaring up in your eyes making him stir alive.

“But she’s married.”

“All the better!” Seeing through what he was doing, you turned towards the bathroom and slammed the door shut. He didn't hear you lock it so he followed suit.

"If you're jealous, just say so already!" he told you. He wanted to hear it out of your mouth.

"Why would I be jealous? She looks like a bad rip-off of 80s Brooke Shields!" you spat, confirming his thoughts. You climbed into the bathtub sulkily, eyes on the bubbly water.

Sukuna knew he shouldn't even be thrilled about the prospect of it. If you were jealous then that means you were kinda doubting him in terms of his loyalty to you, and he should not like that, but at the same time, you were also being possessive which you rarely do. He couldn't help it.

Loosening his tie, he began shedding his clothes off, stripping naked before you, revealing the tattooed expanse of his skin and his impressive musculature as he tossed one garment after the other.

"What are you doing?" you asked as he approached, the way you mumbled the words causing him to just sigh, feeing defeated at how endearing you looked hugging your knees to yourself. "I thought I told you to go back to your party."

He didn't say anything as he went into the tub, sitting opposite you, but it wasn't long before he was pulling you towards him, positioning you between his legs so your back was pressed against his hard chest. He then began planting hungry kisses on your neck, down to your shoulders, his large hands wandering all over your body, one already having found itself on your breasts while the other coaxed your head to turn towards him so he can kiss you, his movements urgent yet languid and gentle.

"I'm all yours," he breathed against your lips, grinning. "You know that, right?"

"I know." You shrugged, facing forward again. “I don’t like the way that witch was touching you though. And you were all smiles about it, too.” You smacked him on the thigh, eliciting that deep laughter you adored no matter how mad you were at him. “Don’t laugh! It’s not funny.”

“It kinda is.”

“If you even think for a second that anyone can have you, Ryomen Sukuna, you’re wrong.” You looked him in the eyes, your dark orbs boring into him while your hand touched the side of his face, your crimson-painted nails looking like claws against his cheek. “You’re mine.”

He wrapped his arm around you, kissing you on the temple before placing his chin on your shoulder. "Jealousy is ugly, baby," he whispered in your ear, "but I gotta say, you wear it so well."

-END-

Okay. Before I get another "untimely (and unsolicited, if I'm allowed to say) lecture" about the etymology of the word "Ryōmen (両面/りょう)" meaning "two-faced/two-sided" and not a surname or given name , let me say it now, I KNOW, but thanks anyway. Sukuna and I are neighbors, just 4 hours by train. Geez. However, I am using his whole name in literature form, so if I do switch it up and use it as a surname for him (cause heaven forbid, the Kamigami rain hell on me) it's all for fun and literary creativity. No need to get too pressed over it.

No more fighting on my comments to point this out @fushigummy @kenkinori XD

And I have nothing against the 1980s or Brooke Shields. *waves at her fans*

It's established. I love bathtub scenes although I detest the idea of stewing in my own filth. But yeah, look forward to more bathtub drabbles.

I say too many things. Bye.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20210603]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[tarousprettybaby]

Our Alone Time (Day 6)

Day 6 of Kinktober: Amajiki Tamaki

Kink: Body Worship

Word Count: 790

Warning(s): MINORS DNI, super soft smut, afab reader, implied creampie (no glove, no love lol), lots of praise, use nicknames’ baby’ and ‘bunny’ let me know if there’s anything else.

Notes from the Author: Hola chicas, how are we doing? I'm sorry for the major delays in these stories. I've been extremely uninspired and just facing writer's block. Life has been good but writing itself hasn't lol. But now I have this and hopefully another story I'm missing too!

================================================“Baby? Bunny..? Y/n where’d you go?” whispers a nervous Tamaki. Damn it, he thinks. He had told you not to go running off all excited. You two needed to stay hidden, innocuous...

Of course, it doesn’t take long for him to find you. Or rather, you to find him.

“BOO!!” you shout while dropping down the tree branch; Tamaki had just passed. Said male let out a surprised squeak, one that you’d later have to tease him for being so cute. “I scared youuuu. Didn’t I, mister. Halloween’s not scary at all?”

A pout graces Tamaki’s face at your words but softens as he hears your obnoxious giggles of delight. It wouldn’t hurt if I just…got her back. As he thinks this, his body melts into the floor, something that your still amused mind doesn’t catch until it’s too late. And just as it registers that your lover has left you, something slimy wraps around your ankle, yanking you towards the darkness of the forest.

Your eyes glue themselves shut as the thing yanking you doesn’t let up. Screams and gasps leave your throat as you’re pulled, twisting and turning, through some trees and past some rocks before you’re stopped into a surface.

Silence overtakes the scene, only your heavy breathing and the idle sounds of the forest surround you before a voice interrupts.

“Sooooo, was that the right kind of scary?” Tamaki chuckles nervously, and it’s only when your eyes connect that he genuinely starts to panic and ramble. “Oh, Bunny! I didn’t do too much right. I-I meant it in g-good fun; I didn’t go too far right. Nothing’s hurt, nothing’s wr-wrong right?” the latter of his sentence is accompanied by his hands beginning to roam your body urgently, looking for bruises or cuts that could’ve been sustained.

Even after literal centuries, he never stopped being so attentive, did he? You think with a shake of your head. The action must’ve accidentally answered his question as his eyes widen comically, and he begins babbling apologies again.

You silence him with a rough push of your lips against his, a smooth rhythm taking over the action quickly from sheer familiarity. Your lips reluctantly leave his as you press your forehead to his.

“I’m wonderful, darling. I’m sorry if I worried you.” You say softly. And while you see him wanting to ask if you’re sure, you don’t let him, stealing another sweet kiss from him.

Neither of you is exactly sure how you had gotten here. Naked and writhing in pleasure on the floor of a random gazebo you happened upon. But neither of you care either.

“Aghh, Tamaki. You feel so good; you make me feel- mhm- make me feel amazing, love.” You moan out. You’re grinding on him, slow and hard, so his cock will hit all the right spots within you. Every roll of your hips causes both of you to call out for the other.

“Bunny, ugh~ You’re so perfect. Feel so good massaging my cock like that.” His hands reach to grope at your hips, rolling and kneading the flesh in his hands. “A l-literal -shit- goddess. I’m so lucky. So lucky~” his words trailing off into more groans as you begin to pick up the pace, chasing your high.

Your hands grasp hard onto his shoulders, digging into the muscles. You’re definitely leaving marks, but Tamaki doesn’t care; he can only babble out more praises. Your hips meet each other in tandem, desperate for more pleasure. More, more, more. It’s an all-consuming feeling.

“Tamaki, fuck, baby, I’m so so close. Need more, need more of you. Please, ah- please give me more!” you moan desperately, eyes connecting with your lover.

And who is he to deny you?

“A-anything for you, bunny. So perfect for me, so beautiful for me. Agh, gonna cum!” he moans into your neck, licking and biting it over again. His hand finds its way to your clit, before rubbing rapid circles into it, the feeling causing you to arch into him.

“Gonna, gonna cum Tamaki. Tamaki~” you gasp out in need, just as you’d find your peak and fall over it, not even a second later comes Tamaki following you into depths of pleasure.

You both barely have the time to enjoy your high and subsequent return before you hear the sound of rustling and voices murmuring. Your heads whip towards the other, eyes slightly widened in panic.

“I believe that’s o-our cue to vanish, darling.” He whispers as softly as he can, and you nod rapidly.

“Until next time?” you say, nuzzling into him.

“Yes, of course.”

And as if the two of you were never there, you vanish just as flashlights brighten the area you had laid.

================================================

©Tarousprettybaby 2021-2022. please don’t repost work.