#my love for this little fucker grows every day

[rapidhighway]

uh night mode engaged sparkle on!

[skzdarlings]

bets and situations ; skz ; minho x reader

original ask: requested by anonymous: minho and “is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them?” please

pairing: lee minho/reader content info: rivals to lovers. street racing. stubborn!reader. placing bets, betting sex (still explicit consent), fucking vs making love. outdoor sex. sex on a car. explicit sexual content. word count: 3400 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

-

Sure, you are a little insufferable. 

But Lee Minho is worse. 

He carries himself with an elitist pomposity, like he is above the other drivers just because he once raced professionally.  Trophies or not, he is out here with the rest of you, illegally racing cars down desert roads, placing bets in the dead of night. 

You were content until this fucker came along.  Lee Minho and the stupid pretty face that won him fan clubs and brand deals.  Ugh.  You hate him for having that life and for giving it up when it is a fantasy for you.  The world of professional racing is notoriously hostile to women.  You admit there is a tinge of bitterness on your side of every interaction, but he goads you like an asshole.    

He arrives with his usual entourage.  A couple of them are racers, though not professionals, and a couple just spectate and mind his vehicle.  He has a nice car, almost as pretty as him.

You whistle as he approaches.  He looks at you with his usual exasperation, delicate features pinched with annoyance.  His hair was a vibrant red in his racing days, quite the act of showmanship, but it’s a natural dark brown now, framing his mean, stupid, handsome face.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you say.  “Finally gonna grow a pair and race me?”

His scowl turns to a bitchy little sneer.  He laughs sarcastically. 

“Not worth the mileage,” he says.  He shoulders past you, his leather jacket against your denim.  “Winning against a little girl does nothing for my massive ego.”  He says this with a sarcastic flourish, mocking your derision of him. 

You know the comment is a deliberately cheap shot.  Unfortunately, in reality, Minho is the least chauvinist racer you have ever met, treating the women here with the same basic dignity as the men.

It’s just you he hates, because you hate him too.   It was inevitable.  You were hostile when first meeting.  You challenged him to a few too many personal races.  You were a sore loser and even worse winner.  What started as an effort to prove something spiralled into a rivalry. 

You won the last couple races.  You gloated a little too hard and now he is refusing to race you again. 

“Sure,” you say.  “Sounds to me like you’re scared to lose for the third time in a row.” 

He just keeps walking, ignoring you, which is so much more infuriating than when he snaps back. 

You decide to keep your distance tonight.  If you continue to agitate yourself, you are going to develop a stress aneurysm.   So you keep to your own group, race your own races, and collect your own winnings. 

But, ugh.

He is right there. 

Just in the corner of your eye, just skirting the periphery of your space, just breathing the same night air.  When you are looking at him, he captivates you.  When you look away, he is like an impossible itch, begging for your attention again.  You constantly catch him looking at you too, which does not help matters. 

By the end of the night, you feel like a live wire, all electricity and unbound energy.  Not a single race has satisfied you.  You won three of four, making way more money than you lost, but it is not enough.  It is never enough.  You already know how good you are.  You know you can beat most of these guys blindfolded. 

Your only perfect match is Lee Minho.  The only victory that matters is that one. 

As the crowd disperses and everyone departs, you march towards him.  He is saying goodbye to his crewmates, his back to you, but his buddy cracks a grin when he sees you coming.  He smacks Minho on the shoulder before turning away. 

Minho turns around with a befuddled look on his face.  When he sees you, it slackens to that unamused vexation.  He pockets his hands in his leather jacket and slouches against his car.  He shakes his head as you stomp up to him. 

“One race,” you say. 

“No,” he replies, without missing a beat. 

“Why not?”

“Because I said so,” is his insufferable reply.

“That’s not an answer,” you say.

“That’s too bad.”  He gives you a final shrug then turns, opening his car door, preparing to leave. 

“Wait,” you say. 

You heart is racing.  Somehow, you feel like tonight is different from every other night.  Maybe it is the perfect crispness on the breeze, the remarkably clear sky, or maybe just the way those jeans seem to hug his thighs.  Stupid hottie.  You will have him and his attention.  You will get the better of him, one way or another.  It was all leading to this. 

“One race,” you say.  “A bet worth the mileage.” 

“I don’t need your money,” he says.

“I’m not offering money,” you reply. 

Finally, he closes the car door.  He sighs, a very loud and dramatic sigh, like you are the biggest inconvenience on earth. 

“What are you offering?” he says, facing you.  The disinterest in his tone is betrayed by the curious sweep of his gaze, an up-and-down perusal like he expects to find his prize somewhere on your body. 

Oh.

You feel flushed inside, realizing that it exactly what he is thinking.  Looking at you with a hungry, lecherous gaze, anticipating you are about to offer up yourself as a potential prize. 

It makes your heart stutter and your lips do the same, your next words all tangled up on your tongue.  It did not even occur to you to offer such a thing.  You hate him, so of course you would never think about him that way.  But now that he is looking at you like that, his expression coloured with interest and suggestion, you find yourself too shocked to even parse your feelings. 

The only thing that is obvious, abundantly obvious, is the punch of heat in your gut.  No, lower.  Heat that curls up inside you and makes you second guess.  Heat that is curious about the look in his eye. 

Then you shake your head.  You resist the urge to smack him for throwing you off.  You were in control and now you are flustered. 

“Not me,” you snap. 

His eyes, which have made their way down your whole body, follow the same path up.  He meets your gaze eventually.  Then he says nothing, because he is the worst, and just lifts an eyebrow at you. 

“My car,” you say, with no-nonsense finality.  “I bet my car.” 

He blinks at you.  Long, slow blinks like a cat.   It takes him a second to find a sentence. 

“Your car,” he says.  He tilts his head and squints, looking at you with scrutiny, like he is trying to see through your ploy.  “And what do you want if you win?” 

“Admit I’m the better driver once and for all,” you say.  The words feel a little foolish leaving your mouth.  You have been chasing the high of that confession, aggravated every time he dodged it, but saying it out loud makes you feel needy.  You clear your throat and stand straight like you are unbothered.  “That’s all I want,” you say.

He rubs a hand across his jaw, laughs incredulously, then swings his arms out at his sides. 

“Fine,” he says.

By now, everyone else has gone.  It is just you and him under the streetlights, the long empty road stretched across the dunes ahead.   You stare at one another, like there is no road and no sky, no world at all outside each other.  It is intense and all-consuming.   

You hold out a hand.  He takes it and yanks you closer to him.

“I would have told you that for free,” he says.  “Since it’s the truth.  You just had to ask.”

Now it is your turn to blink, looking at him with shock.  You would have been less stupefied if he called you a tirade of rude names, or tried to weave doubts in your mind.  Instead, he smiles at you, and it is not half as smarmy as usual.  He drops your hand and turns away, leaving you gawking at the air as he ducks into his car. 

He honks the horn, snapping you to attention. 

The heat rushes back in a hurry.  You swallow, then walk to your car on suddenly shaky legs. 

-

He wins.

Of course he wins.

You were distracted by his parting words.  You and him are so closely matched in skill that a fleeting weakness is all it takes for one to overtake the other.  You were faring well at the start, but his engine revved and your attention strayed.  Your prize was somewhat nullified by his confession, your behaviour embarrassing in hindsight.  You bet your car.  What were you thinking?

You weren’t.  And it was all his fault.   

Your car skids to a screaming halt just seconds after him.  You smack the steering wheel with frustration. 

Maybe I should have just bet my body, you think to yourself, a thought that has you shivering from something other than adrenaline.  Thoughts like that are not like you.  And Lee Minho is the last man on earth you could ever want.  Even though he is simultaneously the only man you want, or at least the only one with an opinion that matters, the only man whose attention you ever want.  He is always the highlight of your night. 

Oh god, you think with a nervous twist in your gut, I like that arrogant loser. 

Facing him is hard and it has nothing to do with losing your car. 

He is not gloating because he is not the type.  He is just leaning against his vehicle with his arms crossed, watching your nerves and passion get the better of you.  He does not flinch when you get right in his face, huffing from exertion.

“Do-over,” you say.

“Absolutely not,” he replies. 

“You got in my head on purpose.” 

“I can only do that if you let me in,” he says, looking smug.

“One more race,” you insist. 

“You have nothing left to bet.”

“Me,” you blurt.  “I bet myself.” 

You feel some satisfaction at the flicker of surprise that creases his brow, but then he is just staring and blinking again.  Your heart still thinks it is in a race, stampeding so far ahead that your whole body is awash with heat. 

“You,” he finally says.  His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, then he tilts his head in that studious way. “What does that mean?” 

You feel so hot it is making you a little woozy.  It’s just aftershocks from the race, you tell yourself, even though that heat comes from somewhere much more intimate. 

You cross your arms stubbornly.  You look away.  You even stomp your foot. 

“You know what I fucking mean,” you snap. 

“Is that how you usually get out of these situations?” he asks in a teasing tone.  “By fucking your way out of them?”

You refuse to answer.  You arms are still crossed, your face still turned.   

He touches your chin, a painfully delicate touch.  Whenever you do fuck someone, it is hard and fast, like everything else you enjoy.  Your greatest rival should be touching you with the roughest touch of all, but it is the very opposite.   It is a suggestion of a touch, little more than a caress as he turns your face to his.  You swallow until the intense focus of his sharp eyes. 

“I don’t fuck like that,” he says.  He bats his pretty eyelashes while smirking like a devil.  “I don’t have to make bets.  I make love to people because they want it.  Sorry.”  He rolls his eyes and turns away, wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic good-bye wave as he slides into his driver seat.  “You can keep your car.  I don’t want or need it.  Good night.” 

You put yourself between the door and car, stopping him from closing it.  He looks at you, eyes narrowed more intensely. 

“Now, now,” he says. 

“I’m a big girl,” you snap.  “I don’t need you protecting my honour.  I wouldn’t offer to let you fuck me if I didn’t mean it.” 

He stares at you, contemplative behind those dark eyes.  He has just returned your vehicle so you have no reason to make another bet, other than to prove the veracity of your previous offer: that you do want to fuck him, even if you don’t want to admit it.

“I told you that you can keep your car,” he says. 

You are amazed smoke is not blowing out of your ears, considering how hot your face feels. 

“I heard you,” you say. 

He gets out of the car slowly, holding your gaze the entire time.  You take a step back. 

Then he walks at you, which forces you to take another backwards step.  Step by step across the tarmac.  The breeze tousles a bit of his hair, but nothing stops his stride and his eyes never leave yours. 

You find it difficult to catch your breath.  Garnering this man’s undivided attention has been your only goal for months, and the reality of it is heady.  He is intoxicating. 

It seems the feeling is reciprocated, given how he looks at you, which just makes you stumble in your backwards trek.  He catches your wrist, tugging you upright, yanking you closer.  You collide with his chest, disoriented from so little. 

“So,” he says.  “If you win, we fuck.  And if I win, we make love.  Is that correct?” 

“Whatever, there’s no difference,” you say.  You are instinctively combative when flustered, redirecting the source of your embarrassment to confrontation. 

It seemingly works.  His attention diverts and he says, “Yes, there is.”

“No, there isn’t.” 

“Yes, there—”  He stops himself from retaliating with the same childish rejoinder.  He props his hands on his hips, shaking his head at himself as he stares up at the stars.   

Eventually he huffs, rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, then looks at you. 

“Fine,” he says.  “We’ll race.” 

Your heart is already revving like an engine.  You take another couple steps back to smirk at him triumphantly.  You walk right into your car, that smug face dropping in surprise.  It gives him the opportunity to crowd you against it, planting his hands on either side of your head.  You hold your breath. 

“You have to pass my test first,” he says. 

“Excuse me!”  Your own incredulity resounds.  You smack his chest but he does not move. 

“It’s just two questions,” he says.  “You’re a smart girl.  You’ll figure it out.” 

He is tormenting you.  You hate him.  You hope he never stops. 

“Fine,” you snap.  His smirk makes your whole belly swoop with anticipation. 

“Good,” he says, then stands back. 

You hold his stare, refusing to show any weakness.  At least you can catch your breath in the space between you. 

Then he says, “Get on your knees.” 

Your legs are already shaky – from nerves, from the dwindling adrenaline of your race.  There are a lot of reasons your knees buckle.  Plenty of explanations for why you do not hesitate, sinking to your knees right there on the road. 

Your gaze drops, flustered by his demand and your response.  You look at his shoes, all black, well-worn, scuffing the tarmac as he steps towards you. 

“Now tell me,” he says, then gathers a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back.  He meets your gaze as he says, “Is this fucking or making love?”

Then his fingers are in your mouth.  You let him in without any hesitation, like your whole body is instinctively attuned to his.  His grip is firm, his fingers relentless, undoubtedly fucking your mouth with the sloppy, mean thrust you would expect from an enemy.  Still, it feels good, unbelievably so, your mouth wet and hot and his fingers sliding over your tongue, the soft suction of your lips making his eyes blaze and his throat bob as he swallows. 

When he slides out, a trail of spit connects his fingers to your lips.  Your lips quiver with a shuddering breath. 

“Well?” he says. 

You swallow, but eventually manage a weak, “Fucking.” 

“Good,” he says, grinning that wicked grin.  “That’s one out of two.  How about this one?” 

He drops to his knees.  You are face-to-face now, kneeling on the road in the dead of night.  There are no witnesses to this scene except maybe the stars, the clear night revealing all your secrets. 

His face is as open, his expression suddenly so devastatingly soft and vulnerable.   Your breath stutters before he even moves.  He cups your cheeks with both hands and draws you to him.

Your eyes close when your lips touch.  He strokes his thumbs across your cheeks and licks into your mouth with decadent slowness, like he wants to savour every second of your taste.  Your mouths move together like they were made for each other, never racing too far ahead. A perfect give-and-take. 

When he stops, you feel dizzy and bereft, but only for a second.   He cups your jaw and tilts your face just so, then his fingers are parting your tender lips and the taste of him is on your tongue once more.  Your eyes close and you moan thoughtlessly, bobbing your head to the gentle rhythm he sets. 

“This,” he says in a feathery-light voice.

You shiver as he slowly withdraws his fingers.  He wipes his thumb across your lips to clean you.  You let him cup your chin and tilt your face, this time so he can look you in the eye. 

“Tell me what we’re doing,” he says.   

The suggestion makes you throb.  You are hot and aching when you admit, “Making love.”

“Good,” he says, then pecks your lips before rolling onto the balls of his feet and shooting upright.  “Now we can race.” 

-

It is a perfect draw. 

You are both distracted.  When you slam on the brakes in the same place at the same moment, it is with a singular purpose in mind. 

Doors slam.  You meet in the space between your vehicles. 

“I won,” you say, just to be argumentative. 

He is shrugging out of his jacket.  It his the ground.  He does not break his stride, already going for his belt.  Your knees nearly buckle again. 

“Fine,” he replies.  “Then get over here.  I’m fucking you on the hood of my car.” 

Fucking you is exactly what he does.  It is not making love.  He strips you methodically, your jacket and shirt and bra.  Your jeans get shoved down past your knees and he bends you over the hood, still warm from the purring engine.  You are hot and frantic, cheek pressed to the hood of your rival’s car while he works you open and shoves himself inside you. 

You make a sharp sound then a low moan, hands plastered to the hot hood.  He fucks you like he races you, without holding anything back because he knows you can take him. 

It feels as primal as a race, the animal instinct that conquers you in a rush of adrenaline.  It is your singular focus, the steady thud of him inside you.  You do not care about appearances, about seeming ridiculous, meeting every thrust and moan with your own.  He sounds good and feels better, your bodies in harmony, chasing each other to the finish line. 

He yanks you up, your back arching as he turns your head for a kiss.  It puts you over, clenching hard around him, setting him off.  He makes a soft sound then groans with pleasure.  He stays there for a minute, both of you breathing hard.

“I want you to keep your car,” he finally speaks, “because I need you to come back tomorrow and race me again.” 

You gasp when his hand moves between your legs, working you up again, slowly but surely.   

“Because next time I’ll win,” he says.  “You sounded so good getting fucked.  I want to see your face when you come on my cock again and again from making love.”

“Won’t happen,” you say, even while your on the cusp of doing just that. 

“Mm,” he says, then laughs that light, evil laugh as you come all over his hand.  He kisses the side of your head and says, “Wanna bet?” 

[rklve]

RAINY DAYS | JEON JUNGKOOK - PART ONE

summary: your life choices left not only yours, but jungkook's heart broken in peaces. now you're back in town, and just like pluto, even if it's cold and dark, he tends to orbit around his sun forever.

➣ pairing: jk x f!reader

➣ genre/au: exes to lovers; angst; slow burn; fluff; smut (eventually).

➣ 3.4k words

warnings: e2l. oc broke koo's heart :( but she did not mean it. they both overthink too much. jk is such a pet dad (BAM IS HERE YAY). oc is a confused mess. mutual pining. cursing. a lot of angst (sorry!). jungkook is a simp, head over hells crazy about oc. fluff bc why not. tae is bitter asf but he's right on this one. jk is the best boy I WANT HIM!!!!!!!!!!

song inspo: rainy days — V

wish I knew how to find the way right back to you, on rainy days like

part one | part two | drabble one

“I can't take it anymore,” Jungkook says as he stumbles for the seventh time on his feet walking around the living room “I’m losing my mind, Bamie.”

The dog looks at his owner with his head pointed sideways as if he understands what he’s been sorrowing about for the past 10 minutes. The rain pours angrily outside the apartment, Jungkook sighs as he realizes talking to his big ass puppy won’t solve any of his problems.

“She’s like, 5 min away from us, Bam! I should text her, right?”

He looks over his phone again, your instagram story is open and a picture of a window full of raindrops is seen — he knows where you’re at, you’ve both been to that coffee shop over a hundred times for the past years now. Can’t remember the last time he’s been to that place ‘cause he couldn’t stand the thought of being there without you. Now he’s wondering, wondering, wondering. Wonders if you’re back for real this time. If you are alone. If you are thinking about him too. Wonders what would happen if he just replied your story right now.

@jeonjk97: heard it’s the best caramel macchiato in town 👍

No— that’s too lame. Quickly erases the message.

@jeonjk97: want a ride home? it’s pretty bad outside. 

Throws his phone on the sofa as he realizes he doesn’t know if you would accept his offer, doesn’t know if you’re sharing an apartment with Lola again either. Realizes he doesn’t know anything that’s been going on with you for a while now. More than what you let your 897 followers on Insta know too, at least. Blames himself for it, but knows it was for the best. Misses you like a fucker anyway.

“I should just call her.”

He picks up his phone, then also realizes he deleted your number months ago so he wouldn’t call you whenever his drunk ass thought it was the right thing to do. 

“For fucks sake, grow some balls, Jungkook” he whines angrily at the air purifier as if it is the source of his problems. “Okay, Taehyung will know what do.”

He calls his best friend quickly, and prays Taehyung picks up before he grabs his car keys and drives himself to the colorful little cafe at the end of the street. Remembers how much you loved that place and the cookies they served. One caramel macchiato with extra topping and two medium chocolate cookies. You always ordered the same thing. Every damn time. Said it was in you, to never let go of the things you loved. You let go of him anyway.

“Jungkook-ah! Why are you calling? I told you I can't go out—“ 

“She’s back in town.” He cuts Taehyung abruptly and suddenly the other line is mute as well. Probably doesn’t believe it’s happening just as Jungkook didn’t believe himself minutes ago. 

“Man, are you sure? Like, back for real?” he says, and Jungkook swears he can hear the disbelief in his tone from the other side. Yeah, he knows Taehyung is full of his late night calls to talk about you. Knows he is the one that’s been listening to it for months now —besides from his dobermann, of course— he’s the one who gets it, ‘cause he’s the only one who feels bitterly betrayed too. You were one of his best friends and yet, he didn’t knew your plans to move out from Busan as well. 

“Aish, I’m not sure hyung. But she posted a picture a little while ago at the cafe down the street.” he blurted out, “Can’t even think straight now, man. You think she’s back for the holidays?” 

Taehyung wondered for a little while. It was still August, Chuseok was weeks later. He didn’t say it out loud, but it wasn’t like you to drop work for so long, even if it was to visit your hometown. Nevertheless, he didn’t want Jungkook to get his hopes up. He knows how he is. Doesn’t want to see his friend’s heart breaking all over again.

“Mmm. Maybe, don’t know.” he sighed out loud “I thought we agreed to unfollow her after the second month.”

He hears Jungkook’s sad chuckle on the other side of the line, “Yeah, we did.” 

Taehyung knows Jungkook wouldn’t bring himself to do it tho, and now he just confirms it. Being a little bit more resentful than Jungkook gave him the motivation to do so, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been missin’ your ugly face. 

“Ok, so I need you to refresh my mind now. Tell me something so I won’t step outside that door right this second and make a fool of myself.” Jungkook continues to talk as if he’s been charged on 220W. And maybe he was. His heart has never beaten so fast for the past twelve months. His hair is all over the place from the countless times he grabbed it since he saw your photo. The tip of his fingers are tingling. Yeah, maybe he’s been electrocuted or something.

“Go.”

“What?” Jungkook says in disbelief. Doesn’t think he hears straight, ‘cause Taehyung would be the last one to say such a thing. 

“I said go, Jungkook.” he sighs for what it seems to be the tenth time on the phone call. “I know you need this. You haven’t been yourself for so long now. You two have to talk properly at some point.”

“Ay, how frustratin really—” he tsks.

“For real, man. Go. Now.” he firmly says “What’s the worst she can do, leave?” Jungkook senses the bitter words coming from Taehyung’s mouth. He knows he’s not mad at you, just hurt. Knows Taehyung would forgive you in a heartbeat if you said how sorry you were for everything that went thru. Wonders if he would forgive you that easily too. But he knows his friend is right. He needs closure. Needs this.

“Yeah. Right.” he bites his lips and looks around. Sees Bam looking at him, as if he’s expecting an action from him too. “I’ll talk to you later, bro. Thanks.”

He turns off the phone and grabs his car keys tightly. Yeah, he’s doing it. Won’t think too much, it’s better this way. He will get in the car, drive for 5 minutes. Enter the coffee shop. Order. Pretend he doesn’t know you’re there. Eventually look over the spot he knows you’re at, the same table over the corner where you two always used to sit together, by the large window. Grab the coffee and go over casually, ask how you’ve been. Offer you a ride home —to your parents, probably, since you moved out from your apartment on the neighborhood for a while now. Say it’s because of the rain, he knows you hate to ask for Ubers on the rain. Didn’t trust just anyone driving on bad weather. Such a smart girl. He misses the shit out of you. 

“Damn, ok. Pack it up, man.” 

He calls Bam to his house and watches as the dog quickly follow his lead, as if he knows Jungkook is too anxious to play around right now. “Dad will be back soon, okay? Behave.”

And so he checks out his hair one last time on the mirror at his bathroom and goes before he changes his mind.

The drive is pretty quick. It’s actually a route he does walking, but it’s still pouring rain so he’s carrying on. On a rainy day. To a coffee shop. To get a coffee he could have made at the comfort of his home with his own little coffee machine. But it’s okay, he will just play pretend for this time.

He stops the car and just realizes he forgot his umbrella. “Are you fucking serious, Jungkook?” 

Great. Brilliant. He feels so fucking dumb right now. 

Thankfully, due to the cold season he was wearing his black sweatshirt and sweatpants so the rain wouldn’t do so much damage. He quickly got off the car and ran inside the cafe. 

Surprisingly, it was full for a rainy night. Perhaps everyone had the usual thought; too lazy to make their own foods, they step out to grab something warm on the best coffee in the neighborhood. 

Jungkook plays the script on his head over and over again as he whipes his hair side to side like a fluffy dog to get rid of the water that soaked it a little bit. 

He looks ahead to the counter and his mind goes blank as he sees you over there now. At the little chair on the middle of the cafe. You seem lonely, messing with your hair a little bit, making a braid with a single tiny lock. It’s an old habit to make time pass, and Jungkook hates he remembers every little detail about you. His heart now has stopped, dropped to his knees. He really misses you. 

“Bee!” the waiter calls, and Jungkook recognizes the nickname. Knows it’s you, ‘cause he’s the one that gave it to you years ago. Used to call you bee just to make fun of you, ‘cause you’re such a sweet tooth. Never met someone that loves sugar more than you do, so he started to call you that since you two became friends.

He watches at the end of the waiting line as you get up, straight your hand and pick up two cookies in a little pink plate. Chocolate chips cookies. Your favorite. His favorite as well.

You start to eat slowly so he averts his eyes. Doesn’t want to be catch staring and look like a fucking weirdo. It’s not like he drove here to see you. Talk to you. Not at all, the coffee here is great. 

Finally the line walks and it’s his turn. “One black coffee, please. No sugar.” He says softly and suddenly feels his neck start to tingle. Knows you just realized he’s here, and you’re staring at him. Pretends he doesn’t tho, so continues to talk to the waitress as she asks who she would call when it’s ready “JK.” he says, then turns around to look for somewhere to sit and wait for the order. Looks over the table that you originally were, the one you posted a photo of. Then realizes now there’s a couple there, laughing together and taking pics of each other. He knows you. Knows you most likely offered the clingy couple the table, cause the house is full, and you wouldn’t take the table just for yourself. Even if it meant you would end up eating by the counter on the little puffed chair, you loved to drool over the pastries anyways.

He slowly looks the other way. Knows you’re on this direction so he has to be careful. You’re looking down. Seem sad all of the sudden and he just wants to hug you. For fucks sake. This is harder than he thought. 

He sighs again as he realizes the only spots available are the 2 chairs on your right. He chooses the one that’s a little bit far just to be safe.

As he walks down, his chest tightens a little bit more. Now he doesn’t know what he’s doing here. It was a bad idea. Doesn’t even remember what the plan was at the first place. 

He can smell your perfume as he walks past you and it’s like someone punches his stomach. Your sweet smell fills his nostrils and he just wants to be closer. Shove his nose on your hair like he used to. Then go down your neck and feel your skin respond with little goosebumps as he moves along it softly. Damn it. Jungkook wants to curse the life out of you but he can’t even bring himself to be mad right now. Only knows he misses you. Your touch. Your kiss. You.

Finally he sits and pretends as if he didn’t notice you there, continually looking over his phone as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world trying to figure out what to do next.

“JK!” The waitress calls him and he’s put out of his own world, looking up right away. You seem to be startled too as you look directly at him. You two look at each other for what seems to be minutes in a trance. You give him a tiny smile. He gives one back.

“JK!” he hears the call again and pulls himself out of the trance, going to grab the coffee from the waitress who’s on your left side. He pays for it and looks at you again. You’re still looking at him. Kinda unsure on how to act, he figures. It’s okay, cause he doesn’t know how to either. 

As he sits, now on the chair closer to your right, he looks straight ahead and takes a gulp of the coffee. “Fuck!” he curses and pulls the coffee cup away as he burns his tongue with the damn thing.

You laugh thru your nose and his ears rapidly catch the sweet sound he used to hear all the time. Looks sideways to you, “Funny, huh?” he feels the air a little bit less heavy now, and he’s relieved.

“You just never change, Koo.” you say, still with that damn smile on your face he adores so much. He can’t take his eyes off of you. Realizes he never got over you, not even for a second. Probably never will.

“Don’t call me that.” those damned butterflies on his guts as he digests what you’ve said. You know it’s his favorite nickname. Knows only you call him by it. Knows he melts alway with this shit everytime.

You’re staring at him like that. So pretty. Soft brown sparkly eyes he missed so much. Now they seem to start hardening. “I’m sorry.” You say with a broken voice, and he feels the air shift all over again in a matter of seconds. Doesn’t know if you’re apologizing for the sweet nickname. For leaving him. For not calling. For not coming back. For everything. 

“How’s everything?” He tries to ease the air back again. “It’s been a minute.”

He sees the corner of your lips tremble a little bit and you gulp. His chest pangs. Wonders if he did the right thing by pretending you never existed for the past months now. Just wants to make up for all the time both of you lost.

“Yup, it has.” You reply after a while. “I’m doing okay. What about you?” 

You look up at him like everything is okay. If he didn’t know you, he would believe you were. But he knows better. You can’t hide anything from him, really. At least that’s what he thought. Knows he could be wrong, just like he was a year ago too.

“Cool. I’m cool.” he licks his dry lips and starts to think about his next move. Mind starts to blow up, a trillion thoughts at the same time and he’s back at it again. Can’t put his neurons to work properly. You’re actually right here in front of him, how is he supposed to?

Seems like you’re struggling yourself too. He doesn’t know if you’re trying to come up with an excuse to leave right now, or trying to find a subject in common as well.

 You stare at your now half eaten cookie like it’s the most valuable thing in the world. The other one is already on the bag to go. You probably were planning on taking home to eat when the late night sweet crave hits you, like he remembers. Will put it on the microwave so it gets warm again and take a cup of milk with you, like you used to. Turn on netflix and watch one of those lame cooking programs, ‘cause you loved to waste your time watching people losing their heads to make giant chocolate sculptures. He secretly loved watching it with you. It’s the reason he watched every episode back and forth while you were away too.  

“Is Bamie okay?” you murmur, now staring at your coffee cup with a little smile, thinking about the little puppy. Remembers how energetic and loving he was. Just like Jungkook. “You haven’t posted him in a while now.”

His tongue feels bittersweet again. He’s somehow happy knowing that you’ve been catching up with his life throught social media, even tho he disappears once in a while. At the same time, he’s sad. You could have been there for Bam. Should have, since you are the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Said he needed a little friend to match up with his chaotic energy. He ended up convinced and adopted the little guy. You always tended to get the best of him. Promised you’d help him to take good care of the baby, but only spent three months with Bam. Still, it’s like the puppy knows something is missing. Every night he looks over the door at any noise, like he’s expecting you to come throught it. Just like Jungkook used to do for the first months back then. 

“He’s great, actually. Bigger than I expected him to be. Eats like a fucking bear.” he giggles a little remembering his big boy. “He’s loud too. Don’t know how the neighbors still haven’t ganged up against me to kick us out of the apartment.”

You giggle alongside him imagining the chaos those two must have been doing together. “I figured. You always have spoiled him too much. Told ya he would get bad habits.”

“Hey! You spoiled him too!” he throws it right back. Remembers how you used to let Bam sleep with the two of you on bed. It took him months to break that habit from the puppy’s routine.

You look up at him and smiles. Bright now. You know he’s right. You’ve treated that puppy like it was your own son. Kinda misses the three of you together like a big happy family.

Suddenly a loud thunder is heard and both of you look out the foggy window at the same time. The sky is even darker now, angrily pouring rain like it’s the end of the earth. The coffee shop is emptier. Everyone outside your bubble must’ve realized that it was no longer safe to be out in the streets. But here you two are. Letting time pass by, enjoying each others presence even if it’s kinda weird. Kinda sad after all these months apart.

Jungkook knows it’s time to act. Step up and do what he was planning since he left home. Can’t bring himself to. Is too scared you will say no. Too scared you will let him down again. 

“I think I should get going.” you say softly wrapping up what is left of the cookie and putting it on your bag over the counter. “The weather is getting worst.”

“Want a ride home?” Jungkook quickly says before he looses the sudden courage. Sees you're taken aback so he continues, “I know you won’t be able to catch an uber or taxi right now.”

You still wonder a little bit. Jungkook’s anxiety is bubbling up again as he waits your answer. Why can’t you accept a simple offer? You can’t stand the thought of being around him? Do you hate him? Perhaps you don’t want him in your life ever again. You want to stay like this. Just be somebody that he used to know.

And that’s what scares him the most.

“I brought an umbrella” you finally say. Jungkook frowns. Knows you have no umbrella with you, he would’ve seen it by now.

He puffs. Knows it’s bullshit, but won’t call it. “Right. Suit yourself.” Then he gets up, forgets his full coffee by the counter, now cold. He feels fucking cold too. Already regrets coming to this stupid cafe, in this stupid weather, for no stupid reason. He takes his sweatshirt off and puts it over his head so the rain won’t get to him this time. Opens the door.

“Jungkook! Wait!” you suddenly say. “I actually didn’t.” you say pouty, coming up to him.

He doesn’t say anything. Just takes his sweatshirt, puts it over your head instead. He was wearing his taegeuk warriors jersey underneath it, will definitely get soacked but can’t bring himself to care at all. Just cares about you. Holds the glass door for you just like old times. You look up at him with your big doll eyes and he can’t do anything but look back. It’s like you want to talk through them. He wonders what’s going through your pretty little head right now. Probably overthinking too much, just like he does. 

“C’mon," he softly says "Let’s get you home.”

yayyy there it goes! my first ff ever i'm so happy <3 this was supposed to be an oneshot but i got carried away and wrote more than i expected so i had to cut it off hehe

also, please be aware that english is not my native language so i’m sorry if there’s any typos 🥹

i'll upload part 2 soon! if you want to be tagged pls comment under the post :) thanks for reading xx

[readychilledwine]

Cassian who after you two realize you’re pregnant slowly stops doing as much training to spend time with you and your growing body.

Cassian who slowly starts eating the foods you crave so you don’t feel alone in the weird things you’re eating

Cassian who slowly starts getting a “dad bod” towards the end of your pregnancy, still keeping his muscle mass in his arms and legs, his abs are just starting to get a little more full.

Cassian who realizes you’re starting to like the dad bod more than the straight hard ass muscle and after the little babe is boring starts taking more days off of training to stay in his new body shape for you

I'm. Salivating.

Dadbod

Summary - After the pregnancy and birth of your first daughter, you aren't the only one dealing with body changes

Warnings - insecure Cassian, suggestiveness and implied smut, teasing from Rhys and Azriel.

A/N -i want everyone to know what my vision of a "cut dadbod" is. It's Jason Momoa in Aquaman. He's lean, muscular, and cut, but he's not what cassian would typically be of rippling muscles and abs you can wash laundry on. So, I attached a picture of the image that came to mind while reading this 🤤🥴

Your honor, I need him. Sexually.

Cassian sighed loudly as he looked himself over in the mirror. There was no denying he had put on weight with your pregnancy, and especially with the pressures of fatherhood and a newborn, but Mother above you wanted him.

Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth as your eyes slightly glazed over, focused in on his strong arms and shoulders, on his chest, his stomach. Yes, cut abs no longer sat exposed all the time, begging to be licked between every ridge, but there was something about how his build now accentuated the v of his hips, how it highlighted his still trim waist without distracting from it.

Your mate was the most attractive male you'd ever laid eyes on. Not Rhys. Not Azriel. Not even the countless high fae you dealt with daily. None of them could hold a candle to Cassian and none ever would.

"I can feel you staring. I know I've gotten out of shape, you can just say it." His voice was laced with sadness. You could feel his disappointment running down the bond as he picked up your daughter, bouncing her as he smiled.

That was the other attractive thing about Cassian. Watching him be a father. Watching him with his daughter. Seeing his excitement over having a little girl. Cassian never expressed disappointment. He never made snide comments about your failure at providing a male, no. Cassian cherished her, his little baby bat, and thanked you for her profusely.

His love for her was part of why he had "Let himself go." He had gone from hours spent on the roof, training the priestess, training with Azriel and Rhys, training Feyre to each group receiving an hour of his time instead of his whole day. He wanted to be with her, not locked on the House of Wind, stuck hearing her small cries as the doorways carried them to him.

"Cassian, you are the sexiest I have ever seen you," you finally answered him, lip going back to your teeth. You wanted him, needed him. You two had not touched each other in so long.

"You don't have to lie, sweetheart. I know I'm not-"

"Stop it," it came out more forcefully than you had wanted. "I like your body. I love the way you look. I still want to fuck you senselessly daily. Just stop."

That conversation had changed everything. Cassian would never admit it, but he enjoyed having his days to himself. He enjoyed only allowing training to ocuppy 3 to 4 hours of his day versus almost 8.

And Gods, he loved how you looked at him now. He loved how much more you two snuggled, how you seemed more comfortable laying your head on his chest.

"Good morning, fuckers." Cassian effortlessly flipped the crepes he had been making for you when he heard Rhys and Azriel sit down at the kitchen island. "What do you want?"

Rhys looked at the unhealthy breakfast, one you constantly craved during pregnancy. "When do you two plan on being back to hard training and dieting?"

He knew Rhys was asking out of curiosity, but Cassian couldn't help but growl, more concerned about Rhys possibly mocking your post pregnancy body more than Cassian's own new dad body.

Azriel's spine straightened at the sound as he shot Rhys a look. "What our brother is trying to say, Cass, is we miss training with you all day on our days off, and we are concerned you are not taking time for yourself anymore."

The look Cassian gave them felt almost like he was attempting to murder them. Like he was warning them of the line they were risking. "My mate needs me and appreciates my help with our daughter. I like my current schedule. When she is older, will I maybe go back to a more training heavy schedule? Possibly. But for now, I am doing what's best for me and my family." And my sex life, he thought silently to himself as images of you riding him last night came to mind.

"We are just concerned, Cassian," Rhys stated softly. "About your growing daddy tummy." His smile broke out as he poked Cassian's abs, eyes widening over still feeling solid muscle below a slight layer of skin. "What the fuck?" Rhys stood, walking over to Cassian. "How are you still so fit?"

"He's fucking perfect, isn't he?" You walked into the room, a small head and wings poking out from the body wrap you were using to carry the daughter you shared with the general. "Delicious."

Azriel chuckled, moving to you to take the babe, but unsure if you meant the crepes or your husband. "As long as you two are happy, that's all that matters. I just was worried about your mental health, Cass. Mother knows your a vain creature that loved his abs more than breathing."

"Or eating."

"Or drinking."

"Or fucking," Rhys and Azriel went on as you moved to Cassian, arms wrapping around his strong biceps.

He looked in the mirror again that night, holding his daughter as he stared at his abs. This current body was a reminder to him of how life had changed, of the growth you two had done, the small life that was now phsyical evidence of the love you two shared. "Dad bod," he finally said. "I'd rather have my dad bod."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

[pedge-page]

Plushies : Bonus

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Plushies Series Masterlist

Lactation, Bump

Can be read as standalone

Notes: Starting to think Plushie!Joel and Belly bump/lactation!Joel are in fact, the same Joel x reader couple but at different points in their lives. Plushies takes place when they're young and dating and breeding kink happens after they've been married or at least moved in and long term committed. So here's a fic that joins the two!

Warnings: assisted masturbation, stuffed animal masturbation, pregnancy kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pet names, language

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You hadn't exactly planned on getting pregnant. You wanted to switch birth control plans to another dosage to help alleviate some of the hormonal side effects of your current brand. Joel did not take the news of having to practice safe sex for at LEAST 6 MONTHS too kindly.

Anyway, that was 4 days ago when you had officially switched over your pills. You now find yourself pinned in full mating press with Joel over top you, your ankles locked around his ass as he's already dumping an extra big load of his seed deep inside you after YOU had ripped the condom off his dick in a desperate haste to have him inside you 10 minutes ago.

And when you had to bare the news to Joel, oh my FUCK was he elated. He fucked you every way till the cows came home. He kept insisting the plushies stay ON the bed each time you made love so the baby (which you had to remind him was no bigger than a seed at this point) had a soft and loveable daddy that liked soft and loveable things.

Once the initial wave of morning sickness and irritability passed, you were just as much of a horndog. He'd come home and find you sitting on your giant Costco teddy bear, humping its legs while hugging it. He could see the small but new little bump in your lower tummy clearly pressed against Teddy's large cotton stuffed one. Joel made you ride so many plushies, asking you how each one felt as you gushed on them, all the while gently planting his palm at your tiny swell.

Sometimes you wondered if he was actually asking you or if he was asking the baby which one felt right.

He'd fuck you with you you on top, pushing two plushies against your tits to "practice feedings", loving the way your sensitive nipples rubbed against the beaded noses. Or planting you on your back with a soft flat plush under your back so you were comfortable as you spread your legs wide and welcomed his fat cock into you again.

Joel would find excuses to massage you as often as possible, making you sit in his lap, back pressed to his chest as he rubbed your shoulders, your aching and swollen tits, and of course your little pulsing pussy, who was just dripping of her own accord whenever. It'd be the perfect opportunity for him to peer over your shoulder and rub a stuffed animal between your legs, loving how each week, he could see less and less of the plush and his hand, slowly becoming obscured by the growing baby on the way.

Joel's naughty appraisal was off the roof. Only difference was now babygirl, kitten, whore, slut, were replaced with baby momma, little momma, momma hen, or just straight up Mommy (THAT one surprised you the most).

And oh HELL did he eat up his Daddy appraisal, constantly reminding you "fuck yeah, Daddy fucked ya up so good, put a baby in ya" or "Papi's gonna keep you round all fuckin year, pump ya full of baby batter" with "Love breedin ya, gonna make me the happiest fucker in the world" and "Daddy's gonna give you a whole fuckin kintergarden".

At night, when he thought you were asleep, he'd brush your hair lovingly, hand caressing your naked round belly, surrounding you in plushies and whispering to the baby, asking which one they like best, gauging based on how much the little feet kicked up inside you to feel the stuffed animal through your skin. He'd kiss your tummy, and barely above a whisper, tell his baby how excited he is to meet them soon.

Least to say, as unexpected as it was, Joel was thrilled to be a dad.

-

"No peeking."

"Joel I can't even see, please move your hands, I can just close my own eyes."

"No no, I got you OH NOT RIGHT THERE ok right—ok perfect. Aaaaaand—" he removes his palm from your eyes.

Your eyelids flutter open, adjusting to the bright light. Joel had just finished building the baby room, complete with custom shaved and engraved wooden crib he spent all week making.

You instinctually caress your growing belly, smiling in awe. "Oh Joel, it's so—" your eyes scan the room, lost for words at his beautiful work.

He rests his chin on your shoulder, his arms wrapping around your middle securely over yours. "Ya like it?"

You loved it. Soft and sweet, touches of little details in the woodwork, spoiled with bunnies and floppy ears, a smoothly sanded rocking chair in the corner, cloud brushed skys painted on the walls. You glaze over the crib before something catches your eye, doubling back. You seeing the contents inside more clearly, a cotton pink blanket, some onesies, and--

Your infamous Kitty plushie.

You smile drops as you rush and bend over haphazardly with your swollen belly in the way, snatching the plush out of the crib like it was diseased. You hold your arm out and stick it right in front of his face. "Joel what the FUCK is THIS doing in here??"

"What? It's your kitty! For the baby!"

"Not THIS kitty! This one's— its— filthy!"

"I washed it. Like in the actual machine. Not the tub. It's clean."

"She will never be clean of her sins, Joel Miller."

"Oh now its a she?"

"Burn. This." You growled, the animal helplessly jiggling with each word.

"Being so harsh to Kitty, she don't deserve that," he said, taking it from your hands and cradling it gently, kissing its squishy head.

"Burn it or I'm buying that pregnancy pillow and kicking you on the couch where you can share with Kitty for the rest of the year."

"I'll go get the wood for that fire."

[kiradrabbles]

Ticci Toby x Afab reader NSFW alphabet

(hello! i may do an AMAB version of these if someone requests it :) in any case, enjoy!!)

A = Aftercare Toby isn't an expert on aftercare. He's mostly inexperienced with sex generally, and even then because he can't feel pain, temperature etc. he's not quite sure what exactly you need. But he'll get you a towel, and awkwardly offer you some water or a snack, hold you as close as possible and conk out on your tits cuddle you to sleep. Or he'll shower with you, but that ends up in another round usually. If you tell him anything specific, though? He'll make sure to do it every time, albiet a little nervously the first few. If he's bruised you by accident he'll kiss where he bruised and apologise, maybe get you an icepack if it really aches. And if you can't walk well? He'll carry you round 'till your legs work again.

B = Body part (his favourite body part) For an AFAB partner Toby is a tits man no question in my head. He's just.. A tits guy, what can I say? Flat chests, large chests, any. He'll smother his face in them and bite them and kiss them- also cuddle actually. Just use them as a pillow. Depending on how sensitive you are he'll incorporate this more or less into sex.

C = Cum Toby loves seeing his cum on you. That's it. He's messy too. He'll give backshots, face shots, tummy shots, anything and everything. This man is a menace.

D = Dirty secret Probably the fact that he's masturbated to you like.. A lot. And he has a ton of pictures he does it to. He isn't ashamed of it per se, he knows you know he finds you incredibly attractive, he just thinks you'll be creeped out by it.

E = Experience I headcanon Toby as a virgin, so you'd be his first.. Everything. Kiss, handjob, head, etc. So he's inexperienced - but he makes up for it with passion! Think about it, when would he have done all this? He was homeschooled for the majority of his life, and even then when he was at school he got bullied like hell for his tourettes. After he became a proxy he probably wouldn't have gotten the chance either. I guess he could have like.. Done some non-con stuff with a victim, but I really can't see him doing that idk.

F = favourite position He'll fuck in any position, but his favourite? If he's topping, this man will use his operator strength. He'll literally pick you up and fuck you. On the table, against the wall, he'd fuck you against a tree if you let him. He likes the power, and the view. Plus if you're held against him he can easily pop a titty in his mouth. If he's bottoming/taking it, mating press with him underneath. He likes the way you have a good view of his face, and can watch him moan and squirm. Plus he just likes the sensations.

G = Goofy (whether or not they're serious during sex) It depends, for Toby. Some days he's up for rough animalistic sex when he's feeling really pent up or stressed, During this he won't be exactly.. Serious, but he'll be too focused on everything else to mess around or make jokes with you. Otherwise? He can goof around a little. Play with you by picking you up and throwing you onto the bed, or biting places he knows you're ticklish.

H = Hair I think he'd be decently well trimmed down there. He wouldn't let it grow out into a bush, but he wouldn't be clean shaven unless his partner wanted it specifically. He also usually has a happy trail fuck you. Body hair? I feel like he doesn't bother to shave it (again, unless his partner prefers it). So he'll have hairy limbs and armpits. He also has some light stubble, which he shaves whenever he remembers, so it varies from clean shaven to the begginings of a beard.

I = Intimacy This man is NOT used to intimacy of any kind. Considering he only every got love from his dead sister? This fucker is probably so easily flustered, sexual or not. Anything non-explicitly sexual but still loving probably turns him into even more of a stuttering mess than he already is. Please kiss his scars and call him handsome and pretty and tell him he's deserving of love despite his disorders I'm BEGGING. Sex wise, again, it depends. Some days he'll just go wild during sex, if he's pent up stressed or just feels like it, other days he'll kiss you romantically and compliment you in between thrusts. He'll also adjust based on your preference.

J = Jerking off He jerks off once or twice a day, usually before missions and bed. He can't get a boner during missions (that would be awkward if nothing else) and doing it before bed is convenient. He isn't addicted to it or anything, and has gone a week or two without doing it on long missions, he just prefers to do so. Especially to a picture of his beloved.

K = Kink(s) Toby is a total freak in the bedroom. I'm talking period sex level freak. It would probably be easier to list what kinks he didn't have. But a few specific ones spring to mind. • Praise kink. Toby is happy to give compliments during sex, but receiving them? Oh lord. He's spent most of his life without compliments or praise, so having you do it to him during something so intimate? He'll turn into a blushing moaning mess. This one is more for when he's bottoming. • Primal play. Like I said before, he's a pretty animalistic guy. He'd love to (with consent ofc) chase you and tackle you down, or play hide-and seek and fuck your brains out when he finds you. Or just hold you down and breed you like an animal. • Cumshots. I mentioned it earlier but this man loves seeing you covered in it. Not only is it straight up hot as hell, he also thinks It marks you as his in a way. Possessive lil shit. • Begging. He also loves it when you beg for him, or he begs for you. He's into it both ways. When you beg for him it's hot because it's reassurance that you want him and find him attractive. Him and no one else. When he begs for you it's hot because he's being vulnerable, and theres something about being that desperate. • Marking. I'm talking biting you, scratching you, hickies and fingerprint bruises on your thighs. He'll kiss them better after the act of course, but in the moment anything that he gives to you makes him go haywire.

L = Location This man will do it anytime, anywhere if you're both feeling it. Bedroom, couch (if the other pastas aren't home), forest, you probably have to persuade him not to do it in alleways sometimes. Or just do it, if that's your thing all power to ya. He does slightly prefer private places though, as that way you can go for longer.

M = Motivation (what turns him on) What doesn't? One particular thing that comes to mind is seeing the marks of what he did the next day, especially if you don’t hide the hickeys with a scarf when out in public. It's embarrassing (and sometimes he feels guilty even when you assure him it's fine) but it also sends something in him crazy knowing you're displaying that you're his in public. The smallest things can get him in the mood, though. You stretching, wearing his clothes, complimenting him, sweating, anything and everything. Sometimes nothing, sometimes just seeing you.

N = No (boundaries) Shit and vomit are.. No go's for him. (He'll try piss if you're really eager). DDLG and Daddy in general make him feel predatory and gross, and also anything father related remind him of his dad which is.. Yea, not sex thoughts. And also voyeurism. Remember I said he was a possesive lil shit? Yeah. He ain't sharing you with no one.

O = Oral He loves oral, both giving and receiving. If he had to choose, though? He'd prefer receiving. He loves seeing you gag on his cock, and of course, cumming all over your face. (he'll clean you up after ofc). Not to say he doesn't love giving it either. This man loves eating. He thinks the noises you make are cute - and he also would not mind you sitting on his face.

P = Pace He's usually fast paced. He loves fast rough sex, both of you moaning and yelling and grabbing each other. Sometimes he'll force himself to slow down though, either to tease you or to make the most of it and enjoy every second, especially if he has a long mission coming up and won't see you for a while.

Q = Quickies He prefers longer sessions with multiple rounds, but he's fine with quickies. Sometimes he just needs to bang your brains out before a mission.

R = Risk You're in the slendermansion, everything is a risk. The walls are thin as fuck - at least you think they are? You've never heard anyone complain about you and Toby, but you've never heard anyone complain about the screams of whichever victim Jeff has brought home for some reason. Toby finds it hotter when theres a risk of getting caught. After all, worst case someone else gets shown point blank you're his, and it's cute seeing you try stifle moans.

S = Stamina This man. Can go. For hours. If you let him. The operator strength affects more than just his strength if you know what I mean. By the time he's done you're usually all fucked out. I'm talking multiple rounds, maybe a minute break between them? If you date Toby get ready to be able to hardly walk for a lot of the time. And you best believe he's a smug shit when he carries you around after. "O-oh babe, sorry, did I fuck your brains out t-too hard?" and he will make you say he did.

T = Toys He doesn't usually use toys, except maybe ropes or vibrators if you're into that stuff. Except. Srap-ons. Peg this man. He won't tell you, but this man is PEGGABLE. And he WILL enjoy it and start moaning your name. Trust guys. He's also pretty skinny (lean, but skinny) so if you use a big enough strapon he'll get a stomach bulge.

U = Unfair (teasing) Usually he can't really tease you during sex as he's too busy fucking your brains out (or getting his brains fucked out) but as with pace, he can slow it down a little sometimes. And when he does you best believe he'll tease the shit out of you. He'll make you beg for it, and he WILL drag it out as long as possible. Probably try his hand at edging you. (but it's fine if you edge him back he'll become a stuttering fucking begging MESS)

V = Volume/Vocal I imagine Toby isn't the most vocal of men, but you will know when he's enjoying it. Moaning, grunting, even growling. Sometimes he'll stutter out short sentances too. "F-fuck, tight-" "gonna split you in half baby-" "Mach w-weiter" (keep going) "Please, p-please please-" shit like that.

W = Wild Card (misc) Toby speaks fluent German, as his parents were 1'st gen immigrants from Germany. (it's canon confirmed he has German ancestry but not more specific than that, so that's more of a headcanon.) He does some sex talk in german, especially when he gets In the heat of it. "Oh mein Gott" ( oh my god) "V-Verdammt, das fühlt sich so gu-gut an" (Fuck, that feels so good) "Ich l-liebe dich, härter bitte" (I love you, harder please)

X = X-Ray Toby is skinny, but lean. And deceptively strong. His whole body is covered head to toe in scars - stomach, chest, arms shoulders legs. Everywhere. He has no tattoos save for the operator symbol on his wrist. He's 5"10 in hight. In terms of his member, he's pretty big, a little larger than average at about 7.5 inches, give or take a few depending on just how hard he is too. He's pretty girthy as well, so get ready for the ride of your life.

Y = Yearning (libido) High libido. Horny fucker. Literally so horny, he's pretty much ready for it any time anywhere. Especially when it's related to you. You could probably look at him funny and he'd wanna fuck.

Z = Zzz It's 50/50 whether he'll pass out after sex or not. If he does he cuddles you close though, probably whispering nice things and calling you pretty. Just resting on you, playing with your hair or letting you play with his.

[ifyoucandaniel]

i know we all love our jason “reads classical literature and makes obscure literature references” todd, and usually damian is the other reader in the family and they either bond over their love for classical literature or try to kill each other. however i would like to take this a step further and say that EVERYone in the batfam are big readers. i come from a big family and all of us read in some way or another so here are my headcanons for the bats:

jason, as we know and love, is a massive classic literature buff. pride and prejudice, the brontë sisters, the iliad (he swears achilles and Patroclus are the greatest love story of all time), etc. he IS pretentious and everyone groans when classic literature is brought up in any debatable capacity. however his all time favorite book is the princess bride and he would die for buttercup. when the whole family starts watching jujutsu kaisen, jason reads the manga just so he can spoil things for damian that never actually happen. the day a new episode comes out jason tells damian panda was actually a spy and kills megumi. damian tries to kill him with his cereal spoon

while damian was with the league talia made sure he was sufficiently educated in classic literature in all their original languages, and he doesn’t mind a good classic. however i think he actually reads a lot of manga and children's classics. he read where the red fern grows and old yeller and cried, but he won’t ever admit it. he loves shonen and shojo manga, he really likes naruto and attack on titan (i can’t really decide what i think he’d like actually)

Dick is a smut slut girly!! he is in a bookclub with babs and steph where they read the sluttiest books to ever make it through publishing. He read ACOTAR and was constantly facetiming babs to rant. they're currently reading haunting adaline. Bruce once asked what the big deal was when the girls were talking to dick about fouth wing in the kitchen and they all looked at him with such offended expressions he never asked again

tim is also a pretentious fucker, but he reads dark academia. he will ride or die for Donna Tarte, his copy of the secret history is always on the desk by the batcomputer and he takes if we were villians on patrol with him. jason fucking hates his books and they're always fighting on who's taste in books is better. jason actually really loved a little life a cried seven times while reading it, but he would rather die than concede

steph is an AO3 girly!! she's part of the slut bookclub with dick and babs, but at heart she's an ao3 girly. she's also written her fair share of bruce wayne x batman fanfics. she once read a superbat fanfiction out loud to the boys and dick was absolutely enthralled, duke was morbidly facinated, damian had never been more disgusted in his life, and jason laughed so hard he almost threw up

duke reads a lot of comics (spiderman is his favorite because i say so and the MCU is their comic world), and he likes X-men and wolverine. he also really likes high fantasy and has read every book brandon sanderson has ever written

Cass like romance novels and ya books. damian acknowledges her taste in books after she defends his stance on harry potter and percy jackson being classics when jason tries to argue that they don't belong in the same category as his books. she read the cruel prince and convinced bruce to get her a snake she named percy. she reads books damian recommends and he would never actually say it out loud, but he secretly loves sharing his books with her and feels a lot closer to her because of her willingness to read what he recommends

bruce isn't typically a reader (he's too busy serving justice and kicking ass) but he will read books that his kids ask him to. he read the entire wheel of time series with duke and would go on patrols with him after just to talk about it. he read the golden compass to dick when he first took him in, and he read all of jane austen's books after jason told him he must be illiterate if he'd never picked up a classic

now what about alfred...

i dont have time to do everyone else and this is super rushed, but I just couldn't stop thinking about dick and babs having a little book club and reading the sluttiest books ever

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

mutual 1: sorry the update for my webcomic this week is a bit late! i really had to rush it so it prolly looks really sloppy lol [some of the most sophisticated comic art ive ever seen]

mutual 2: call me uterine lining the way astarions cervix got me bleeding profusely

mutual 3: do you think nanowrimo will give me a posthumous pity publishing deal if i mention it in my suicide note

mutual 4: okay fine i finally started revolutionary girl utena

mutual 5: does columbo know the service he did for butch lesbians. for all of us

mutual 6: wish you were here [blurry picture set of conifer woods in early autumn evening, taken as if frantically running down a winding trail]

mutual 4: im pretty hardy i dont need the trigger list but thanks for looking out for me guys

mutual 7: good morning lovelies another day the wizard tried to best me and another day i successfully locked him in the spare bathroom lol hope u like drinking shampoo fucker

mutual 8: here is a zip of every yuri manga scan i have and here is a backup in case i get dcma'd. the himejoshi lifestyle will never die

mutual 9: i wish i could go back in time to the shinzo abe assassination and ask to hold the doohickey

mutual 10: here's my essay on how wanting to be loved is the same as wanting to be eaten. three paragraphs in you'll find out that this is 100% tied to an obscure beauty and the beast manga i've been reading lately and how much i want to fuck the beast

mutual 4: oh thats why there was the trigger list.

mutual 11: YOU CAN'T LOCK ME IN THIS BATHROOM FOREVER

mutual 12: why do i have to defend my thesis to people i dont even respect. im not dickriding you just give me the degree

mutual 13: its just me and this scab ive picked into my scalp against the world

mutual 14: my little dragon got glazed and is ready to go into the kiln! everyone wish him good luck!

mutual 3: nvm i am a beautiful genius. perhaps the most beautiful genius of all

mutual 15: i think we should give david lynch rpgmaker and whatever happens happens

mutual 16: kpeyboaatrds brpokem gpuys

mutual 17: also heres my work in progress glossary of mixtec words! i still have a long way to go but i love being able to preserve my roots even in this small way

mutual 4: i just finished the black rose arc. question: what

mutual 18: i need emet-selch to be my wife

mutual 19: i need glados to be my husband

mutual 20: visited the ocean today!!! <3 beach pics!!! there is a darkness growing within me

mutual 21: the forms for my legal name change came in. pls vote in this poll of what my middle name should be: Dill Pickle (Dickle for short), Optimus Prime, Tumblr User Gorgonicteratologist, Smeve

mutual 22: just finished my 100th book of the year! this weeks read was the uses of enchantment by the psychologist bruno bettelheim,

mutual 23: reeses penis butter cups lol

mutual 4: i need to hunt akio for sport

mutual 24: oouugghhrgh. hot. dog.

mutual 25: your favorite character or fictional other would want you to brush your teeth and wash your face so you're well rested and wake up feeling refreshed! make them proud!

mutual 26: being a delivery driver isnt the worst job ive ever had but i do keep wondering what itd be like to drive off into the wild blue yonder one day and not come back

mutual 27: weird dog? [phone picture of critically endangered stork]

mutual 28: i think the two phone line polls in front of my house are having a lovers tryst. no way to prove it tho

mutual 4: WHAT

mutual 29: while you bitches are balduring your gates or finalling those fantasies im doing what a REAL gamer does. playing a b tier rpg that came out in 2004 for the 18th time

mutual 30: ^ real. hamtaro ham ham heartbreak is a masterpiece of interactive art. im not even going to call it a video game at this point

mutual 4: THAT'S HOW IT ENDS?! ANTHY?

mutual 31: can you help me pick which drawing looks better: 34% overlay or 36% soft light?

mutual 32: new video essay out. its called disability in video game narratives: final fantasy 14's most reliable fault. i churned the script out over an all-nighter and my mic crapped out halfway through but by god i did it

mutual 33: my new zine bundle is out! if you buy it you also get a discount on all my game jam games! i really cant wait for you to play them!

mutual 4: yall should watch revolutionary girl utena

[eeeeuuughggg]

How do u feel abt Larry headcanons? I loved your sal hcs

larry johnson hcs

note: ok,, i'm so happy i'm starting to get asks ‼️

it's no secret that's he's a massive stoner. he smells kind of similar to sal except the weed smell is a LOT more potent and he probably uses axe body spray...

his first bong was probably a gatey. mainly uses blunts for when he's have a long smoke sesh - cus after all, they do take longer to burn and taste better cus they're a mix.

most dates r typically smoke sessions or he'd definitely take you to an abandoned place to tag your names or initials.

omg omg ok when he's high he DEFINITELY goes and raids the nearest 7/11. he always wants donuts and he will ravage that shit like it's the last donut on earth and he's fighting to have it😭

we all know he's a bit lanky, but he wins pretty much every fight he's in. he's kind of feral. he throws a mean ass punch bro

he has a loud ass stereo in his room and BLASTS music w it. like room shaking, ears ringing, eyes vibrating typa blasting...

he gets suspended sm. like, suspended so much it's a miracle that he hasn't been failed a year level due to his attendance.

none of the teachers really care too much about his smoking, they don't get paid enough to give a shit anyways.

i'm kind of conflicted trying to decide between whether he's an ass or tits man. regardless of gender, he loves all parts of ya regardless tbh.

oh my god, he totally watches midnight gospel when he's high. he's like "yeaaa man,, this shits deeeep"

he fucking loves piercings. no doubt. has an eyebrow piercing and a tongue piercing. was so sad when he found out he couldn't smoke for a bit until his tongue piercing healed. (he did it anyway and just used the antiseptic spray after his sessions)

he watches band documentaries like they're the most sacred thing on earth. has a whole youtube playlist for them with literally every band he likes. he's not a big fan on documentaries, obviously, but music ones are just different.

goes to kmart and prints out the worst pictures of his friends to glue into his locker and not so subtly point them out to his friends.

he collects cool looking lighters. mainly bic but he has a few zippo ones. he thinks the funky patterns are rad as fuck and just has a little container full of lighters under his bed.

he has like 7 half drunk water bottles on his nightstand and they grow by the day. nah they grow by the week, mans is obviously the most dehydrated fucker you'll ever meet.

majority of his wardrobe are dirty ass stained band shirts and baggy jeans. notable mentions are studded belts and crusty ass socks with combat boots and converse.

when it's winter, you will NOT see this man without a beanie. they're a must have. he jus gets a little chilly

if you gave him a friendship bracelet or something, he will NEVER EVER take that shit off. he treasures it like it gives him superpowers or some shit

he probably spits a little when he talks 😭

yuck it's still kind of short sorry but i do hope you enjoyed this, anon !! 🙏

[archangeldyke-all]

Are your Sevika requests still open? 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

I have this idea in my head that I can't get out. I'm not a huge fan of the concept of having kids (not for me!) but I can't help but think of Sevika very slowly changing her attitude and priorities around fighting for the cause because she just found out she's gonna be a dad in the future. Her hesitating around something Silco asks or mentions and her being like "I..I got a kid on the way." Cis or trans Sevika, doesn't matter either way

sevika requests are always open :) and this is the cutest thing i've ever heard.

i don't want kids either, but for sevika?? i'd have so many of her kids that the doctors would have to tell me to stop before my body gives out.

men and minors dni

you and sevika don't want kids. it's not in your plan.

sevika's got a dangerous job. it took years of convincing, years of proving to her that you'd be okay without her, that you want her just as she is now, for her to finally give in and make you hers.

and you're perfectly content.

she works horrible hours and comes home beat up more often than not, but you take the time to patch her up each night, and the two of you spend every free second you have together.

she moved you into her place on your fourth date, and you've been happily living together ever since.

and two years ago, when she shyly shoved a tiny box in your hands and nervously looked away as you opened it, mumbling under her breath a question you could barely make out ('i was wonderin' if you'd like to maybe spend forever with me?') you said yes, with no hesitation.

you guys didn't get married. weddings in zaun are incredibly rare, saved only for the wealthiest, and getting a marriage certificate from piltover for two zaunite women is nearly impossible. but, you had a little ceremony in the last drop (which was really just an excuse to throw a rager) to commemorate your eternal love for one another.

and since then, you've been perfectly happy with your little life.

but, accidents happen.

accidents like sevika swearing she'll pull out, begging to feel you without the condom, then cumming the second she pushes inside of you, whimpering and apologizing and cursing your hot, wet cunt.

accidents like you sleeping through the alarm for your pill.

accidents like sevika forgetting to grab a plan b on the way home, too busy fiddling with the tooth some goon knocked loose in her jaw to remember.

and, usually, these accidents lead to nothing happening. so you and sevika assume it's safe to keep letting them happen.

but then, your period's a week late.

and then two.

and then you take a pregnancy test, and it comes out positive.

and then you take three more, and they're all positive too.

you're paralyzed with shock and fear. you spend the entire day sitting in the bathroom, staring at the positive tests on the counter, crying and laughing, then crying again.

the thing is, you're not opposed to having kids. and now that you know you'll have one in nine months or so, you're fucking elated. but you know sevika doesn't feel the same. and the thought of losing her because of the cells growing inside of you, the thought of having to choose between sevika and the tiny little fucker you're already in love with-- it kills you.

sevika comes home to find you having a panic on the bathroom floor.

"babe, you'll never guess what silco did toda-- what the fuck!?" she exclaims, immediately dropping to her knees and gathering you up in her arms. "baby-- what's wrong? are you hurt?" she asks, grabbing your face in her hands and forcing you to look at her, her eyes flying over your body, checking for injuries. you just cry more, already mourning the loss of her touch that you've grown so used to.

"i-i-i'm sorry." you cry out. sevika blinks at you.

"for what?!" she asks. "baby, you're freaking me out, what's going on?" she asks, panic in her eyes.

you take a shaky breath then reach up to grab one of the tests on the counter behind you, sobbing as you bring it down to hold against your chest.

"i'm sorry, sev, i c-can't-- i don't think i can--"

"what's that?" she asks, gently reaching for your wrist to pull your hand away from your chest.

you gulp and bite your lip as you open your hand, letting her get a good look at the test.

the confusion on her face melts. a stoic look takes its place as she blinks down at the little plus sign on the little plastic test.

you look away from her face, too heartbroken to watch her process the news. tears stream down your face as sevika's hold on your wrist goes shaky, and you prepare yourself for her to pull away.

only, she doesn't.

if you had looked, you'd see the hesitant little smile pulling at the corner of her lips. if you had looked, you'd see the way she gulps like she always does when she's surprised, the tears welling up in her eyes, the way she took a silent gasp as she blinks down at the test in your hands.

you're shocked when she pulls you toward her chest, hugging you tight against her body.

"sev-- don't." you whimper. she blinks down at you.

"what-- whaddya mean 'don't'?" she asks. you take a shaky breath.

"if you're gonna leave just leave-- i can't-- you can't be nice to me, it'll kill me." you say.

sevika's heart breaks.

she's never wanted kids. and you're fine with that.

but the second she saw the test, something happened inside of her, something swirling and giddy and nervous. something kinda like how she feels for you, but a little different. a little deeper, a little less hot and a little more familiar.

everything else in her world fades away. the stories she's been dying to tell you all day, the fire in her heart for zaun, the sounds of drunkards stumbling by your apartment, it all goes silent. it's just you and her, and in that moment, sevika realizes that maybe a kid wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. especially not with you.

sevika kisses your forehead, tears welling up in her eyes at the sound of your muffled sobs.

"i'm not leaving you baby, don't be ridiclious." she says. you cry aloud at her words, wrapping your arms around her back and clawing at her shoulders, trying to pull her impossibly closer to you.

"don't say that." you whisper, shakily.

"i'm not just sayin' it. i mean it. we promised each other through thick and thin, right?" she asks. you nod against her.

"but you don't--"

"i don't care." she says. "i'm a fucking idiot, you know that." she says. you let out a shaky laugh. "i'm not leaving." she says again.

in your first trimester, sevika's still a little hesitant-- still a little distant.

she's not sure how to handle all the emotions in her body, all the love and anxiety swirling up at all times. she puts her energy into making you comfortable, holding you when morning sickness takes hold, stocking up on prenatal vitamins and your favorite snacks, pampering you even more than usual.

this, she can handle. she loves taking care of you, she loves babying you, and with all the anxiety in her mind surrounding the baby, caring for you helps her quell it.

she doesn't talk about the baby much. she's still too nervous to talk about it.

but in your second trimester, you start showing. no longer just a little extra fat on your stomach, your baby's actually visible now. your shirts start riding up your abdomen, a little swell peaking out every time you stretch or move, and she can no longer ignore it-- there's a baby in your belly. and it's hers. and it'll be here soon.

you wake up many nights with gas or aches, and find sevika already awake, a furrow in her brow and her lip between her teeth as she gnaws on it. you ask her what she's thinking about, and she just curls around your body and kisses you back to sleep.

sometimes, you wake up to her hand hesitantly rubbing your belly, like she's scared to touch you. you just rest your hand on top of hers, interlacing your fingers and keeping her hand on your stomach while you both fall back asleep.

if she was better with words, if she had the words to express herself, sevika would tell you that she's scared. she hasn't even met the little fucker yet, and she already loves it more than anything else in her life. it terrifies her, for all the same reasons you do. she has a dangerous job, and second in command to a revolution isn't a suitable job title for a new mom.

sevika knows what it's like to grow up without a parent.

sevika knows what it's like to grow up with a jaded parent, too, someone who's closed their heart off to the world to avoid being hurt, and in turn can no longer love. and she doesn't want to do that to your baby. she doesn't want to do that to you either.

and at work, when she gets in scuffles, or gets a knife drawn on her, or gets shot at, it takes her twice as long to catch her breath.

since meeting you, she's always seen your face flash before her eyes when she dodges a fatal hit. and now, it's ten times worse.

sevika was never scared to die before she met you. and then, seemingly overnight, she became horrified of dying-- scared of what her dying would do to you. she can barely stand seeing you suffer from a headache, the thought of leaving you behind, the thought of breaking your heart like that-- it nearly kills her.

and now she's got a kid to think of too.

so, one late night, sevika approaches silco with a grimace on her face and a case of fancy imported cigars in her hands.

he knows something's up. he's known for months. but he lets her stutter out an explanation as she pushes the case across his desk.

"i-- i think you need to find a new number two." she mumbles. he raises an eyebrow at her.

"second thoughts about the cause?" he asks, flipping open the lid of the case and grinning at the quality.

"no, never." she spits out. silco chuckles and holds a hand up, reassuring her that he was only teasing.

"it's your wife?" he asks. sevika blushes at the word 'wife' like she always does, then looks away.

"no. she's tough, she'd be fine without me." she says fondly. "i..." she gulps then takes a deep breath. "we've got a kid on the way, silco." she whispers.

he freezes, his jaw dropping in shock. sevika never calls him silco, no matter how many times he insists she does. she's serious.

"i didn't take you for the mothering type." he says. she chuckles.

"no, neither did i." she says with a shrug. "but... i'm not mad about it." she says. "i'm... actually really excited." she whispers.

silco laughs, then rises from his seat, rounding his desk to shake sevika's hand. it's the closest to a hug the two of them will ever get.

"you'll be an amazing mother." he says sincerely. she has to blink back tears at his words. "come, let's smoke to celebrate." he says, waving her over to his desk.

the two of them spend the night negotiating a new position in silco's crew for her. she'll stay on as his consultant and strategist, and take on more responsibilities at the legally run bar and club downstairs, but he'll be finding somebody else to take on the more dangerous and criminal aspects of her job.

sevika doesn't tell you for a few weeks, until the change is complete.

she stops coming home with bruises and scrapes. she starts being lot more openly lovey dovey, no longer waiting for the dark of night to place a hand on your stomach, praising you at any chance she can get, even buying parenting books and beginning the 'babyproofing' process.

you don't ask her what's up, knowing she'll tell you in time.

and one day, you get home from work to a home cooked meal and candles on the dinner table.

sevika grins at the sight of you. you fawn at the way she walks you to the table, pulling the chair out for you, pressing kisses to your head and shoulders.

"what's going on?" you ask, giggling as she sits beside you. (she never sits across from you, she can't touch you from the opposite end of the table.)

"i'm in love with you." she says. you laugh.

"we've been married for two years sev, you better be." you say. she laughs, and kisses you again.

"i've never been more excited for my future in my entire life." she says quietly against your lips. tears well up in your eyes as you grab her hand. "we're having a baby." she says reverently, like it's the first time she's finally processing it. you don't tease her for it, you just squeeze her hand in yours and kiss up the tears that race down her cheeks.

"we are."

"and it's gonna be here in three months." she says, a beaming smile on her lips. you smile right back and nod.

"it is."

"i... i want to be the best mother i can be for the little fucker." she whispers, staring down at your stomach. "i want to be the best wife i can be for you." she adds on, her eyes flicking back up to you.

you nod at her, still unsure of where she's going with her conversation.

"and i can't do that if i'm dead." she says. you blink and nod and she sighs. "i talked with silco. we got a new arrangement for me at work." she explains. "just paperwork from here on out." she says. "i'm gonna get all lazy and weak sittin' behind a desk but..." she shrugs. "it's worth it for you two." she says.

you abandon dinner to fuck sevika on the dining room table.

(it's not a big deal though, sevika's never been a good cook, and she tried her best, but the food that grows cold on the table was already burnt and unevenly cooked and so over-seasoned it was basically just a pan of garlic powder.)

silco, surprisingly, is incredibly invested in the little fucker. sevika comes home once or twice a week with a new onsie or toy for the baby, gifted to her by your kid's self-appointed god-father.

by your third trimester, sevika's more excited than you are for the baby to come into the world, which is a hard feat, because you're constantly achy and sore and peeing and bloated and uncomfortable and cursing sev for ever putting her hands on you in the first place. she takes all your complaints in stride, endlessly spoiling you, constantly massaging your feet and tits and shoulders, pressing kisses against all your hormonal acne and strange patches of hair, accompanying you to the bathroom the fifty times you have to go a day.

and when your daughter finally arrives, sevika cries like a baby the first time she holds her.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[justmeinadaze]

Date Night: Roleplay (Steve X You)

A/N: I was watching Modern Family and that episode with Claire and Phil doing the role-play at the hotel gave me this idea lol

Warning: Married couple Steve Harrington and Fem Reader, SMUT, role-play, daddy kink, slight choking, dirty talk. FLUFF, these two are high school sweethearts with playful banter who love each other.

Word Count: 2748

Steve sat at the hotel bar after a long day at work slowly sipping on the drink the bartender gave him. His suit felt like it was sticking to him but the last thing he wanted to do at that moment was go home to change and go to bed. The strong smell of perfume filled the air and as he turned to see where it was coming from you sat down beside him ordering a drink with a confidence that made him swoon. 

He couldn’t help but stare as you patiently waited. The little black dress you had on hugged your curves in a way that had Steve salivating. Your gorgeous high heeled foot swung as you crossed your legs together. 

“Are you trying to be subtle? Because if you are, you are failing.”, you giggle as you flash him a sultry smile. 

“I’m…shit. I’m so sorry. I’ve just never seen a more beautiful woman.”

The bartender hands you your martini as your smile grows. “I’ll tell my husband you said that.”

He blinks, silently giving himself a pep talk as he makes his move. “Well if you don’t mind me saying, your husband must be a moron.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

Steve leans in a bit closer to you and you try to control your eyes from rolling back at the sexy scent of his cologne and aftershave. 

“Because if you were my wife, you’d never make it out of the house dressed like that because I’d rip it off your body and fuck you till you were screaming my name.”

His honey brown eyes watched you with amusement as your sexy smirk faltered a bit at his confession. 

“Hm. Well someone is cocky. What IS your name?”

“Steve. Steve Harrington.” He reaches out to shake your hand and you provide him your own telling him your name as well. 

“I knew a Steve Harrington in high school. He was a bit of an asshole.”

He chuckled and it comforted your nerves as a bit of his personality fell through. “Most Harringtons are, I’m afraid. Even I was a bit of a fucker in school.”

“What made you change?”

“My wife.” You blushed and he playfully craned his neck to follow your eye line as you tried to look away. “Uh huh. She was so beautiful inside and out. I knew after our first conversation I would do anything for her.”

“Then what are you doing at a hotel bar, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve obnoxiously sighs as he turns around and leans his elbows on the counter. “Oh, ya know. She’s too busy at home taking care of our three rotten children.”

“Oh, oh, okay.”, you laugh and he beams widely in your direction. “I’m sure they aren’t that bad.”

“What about you? Where’s your husband?”

“Probably at home fixing his hair in the mirror while our three ADORABLE children run around the house causing havoc.” 

“I’m sure his hair is fabulous.”

He scoots his chair closer to you till his slack covered knees are pressed against yours. You both talk about trivial things as you continue to sip your drinks and exchange the occasional flirty touch. The urge to reach out and caress his face or run your manicured nails down his button-up shirt covered chest was killing you.

Steve knew you were struggling and it was making the bulge in his pants get bigger every time you readjusted your legs to rub your thighs together. A man in the lobby sat at the hotel’s piano and began playing a slow song that had you slightly swaying in your chair. 

“Do you want to dance with me, Y/N?”

You smile as you nod and he tenderly takes your hand, helping you out of your chair, and leads you to the makeshift dance floor. As he placed his hands on your waist, you clasped your hands around his neck. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“Just how glad I am that I met you.”, you answer. “What about you?”

“Same. I’m also…no. I shouldn’t say. I’m a respectful gentleman.”

“Uh huh.”, you giggle as he smirks. “How about we make a deal Mr. Harrington? How about from this point forward…” You pull him closer till feel his groin press against your body. “…you’re allowed to be completely disrespectful.”

Steve groaned slightly as his forehead leaned against yours. “I was thinking how sweet you probably taste between your legs. How bad I want to make you cum on my tongue in that sexy dress. I want to show a naughty girl like you things that your husband never could.”

 Your hands almost roughly tug his lips to yours. “I have…a room…if you want to…”

He hastily nods and you grab his hand powerwalking with him towards the elevator. As soon as the doors close and you press the button for your floor, you jump into his arms, kissing his lips before he trails them to your neck and sucks on the flesh making you moan. 

All too quickly, the elevator dings open and you both pry apart as you lead him towards your room. 

As soon as the key clicks it open, you’re both tumbling through as your mouths mingle together. Pushing you against the wall, you tear at his shirt as his palm reaches between your legs to yank down your silky, lace underwear. 

“I half expected you not to have any panties on.”, he chuckled, throwing them to the side. 

“I have to make a bit of a challenge, Mr. Harrington.” Your hands fumble with his belt as he continues to kiss on your neck, letting out a humid breath against your skin when your palm makes it through the waistband of his boxers and rubs against his cock. “Fuck…so big.”

Steve grunts in pleasure as he takes a hold of your hips and lifts you onto a table near the front entrance. 

“Are you sure you still want to taste me in this dress? Because I’m dying to feel your mouth on my body.”

“I’m a man of my word, honey, but how about we meet in the middle?” His lips attach to your throat again as his fingers yank down the top half of the fabric exposing your tits to his to tongue as it glides down your chest and plays with the erect nub. “Fuck, baby. The sounds you make are so fucking sexy.”

Steve descends to his knees, teasing you as he tenderly kisses along the inside of your thighs. 

“C-Can I ask you something?” He responds with a gravelly hm as he gets closer to your core. “What’s your fantasy?” The man freezes as his beautiful eyes look up at you with confusion. “I mean…is there something you’ve always wanted to do with your wife that you felt like you couldn’t?”

Rising to his full height, he leans his hands on either side of you and you see the game you two are playing begin to recede from his gaze. “No, no, no Mr. Harrington. Come back to me.”, you coo in a loving tone. “I meant…for example…when my husband and I make love he whispers sexily in my ear all these dirty things and I just fucking love it.” Steve grins when you giggle. “I just sometimes wish…he’d take it a bit further. Not all the time but…just be a little…rougher with me. Fuck me. You know?”

He nods, his eyes looking past you for a moment before coming back to yours with a smile on his face that could make the devil blush. After kissing your lips again, he brings two of his fingers to your mouth and without hesitation you eagerly suck on them, running your tongue over the pads and around his knuckles. 

“I love making love to my wife. She’s always so open minded about everything that I’m surprised sometimes. But…there is one thing…I’ve always kind of wanted to hear her say but I was nervous she’d think I was weird.” Sliding his fingers out of your mouth, he uses his other hand to grip the back of your neck as he thrust his two saliva coated digits into your entrance.

“Sometimes when I’m jacking off, I imagine her saying it and I just—fuck—I cum so hard.”

“What is it? Tell me, baby.”

You panted against his lips as his pace quickened ever so slightly. “I can fuck you the way you want to be fucked. I can give you want you need, sweetheart. Let Daddy take care of you.”

“Fuck me.”

His fingers moved so fast the sound of your slick echoed off the walls. Reaching for his wrist, you futilely tried to push his hand away as he made you cum. Your nails clawed at his chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“Please. Please, Daddy. I want to feel your mouth on my pussy. Please.”, you beg. 

Steve practically growled at the name as he lifted you again and carried you to bed. “Mmm—come here, honey.” He positioned you till you were straddling his face and you mewled when his tongue licked a stripe through your folds up to your clit. “Fuck, Y/N. You taste so fucking good.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as he got lost in you, his tongue lapping at every part of your sex before wrapping his lips around your nub. Leaning back, your hand tried to reach for his cock but his pants were in the way. Steve felt you struggle and released his grip on your thighs to shuffle down his slacks enough to spring his length free without him having to stop devouring you. 

Licking your palm, you stroked him as best you could from the angle you were in causing his moans to vibrate through your core. 

“Y-yes, D-Daddy—fuck—don’t stop.”

His hips rutted up into your fist as his face pressed further inside of you. As the coil began to wind, your hands flew forward to pull on hair as your hips grinded against his lips. His long, muscular arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you to him as your body trembled and you came. 

“Fuck…good girl, baby. Coming hard like that.” 

You twitched on top of him as he placed tender pecks against your nub, carefully licking at your arousal as he continued to taste you. 

When you finally let you go, you glided down his frame and pressed your lips to his. 

“Fuck me…please…I need to feel you inside me.”

“Keep begging me like that, baby. I kind of like it.”

You both whimpered as your grinded your dripping pussy lips along his now extremely hard and leaking cock.

“Please, Daddy. Please fuck me. I need you to make me cum again with your dick. Please…”

Abruptly, he flipped you on to your back and lifted one of your legs over his shoulders. You whined as he continued to tease you, dragging his mushroom tip over your clit.

“You need Daddy’s cock, baby?” When you only nod, he abruptly leans forward and wraps his massive palm around your throat. His eyes continuously scan your face, fearing he may have taken it too far but when you moan and bite your bottom lip, it takes every fiber of his being to remain in control and not just cum right now. “Say it, honey.”

“I need your cock, Daddy. Please. I need you to stretch me open. Please—ahh my god…”

As you were talking, Steve gradually guided himself into your core, grunting at the feeling as your cunt clung to him and pulled him in. With a vigor you had never seen before, he roughly dropped your legs and wrapped them both around his waist as his entire body fell against you and he slammed his hips into yours.

Your fingers raked through his hair and down his back as he hid his face to the side of your own, whispering and groaning in your ear as his cock punched into every sensitive spot inside of you. 

“Fuck, Y/N…your so fucking warm and wet…just leaking all over Daddy’s cock, baby. Yeah? That it? Is that the right spot? Mmm—Jesus—I love the sounds you make. You’re mine, honey. No one can take my cock like you can. No one feels as good as you do. I love you so much. Fuck…”

Your eyes rolled back as your pussy began clenching around him. Steve knew…he knew your body like one else, pushing up on his hands as he watched your face, pounding his hips into yours as he watched you come undone. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Cum all over Daddy’s cock.” His lips quickly cut off your scream as came hard underneath him, swallowing your moan as he thrust into you faster trying to make your orgasm last. “I know, baby. I know. I know. It feels so fucking good. You’re doing so well.”

“C-cum, Daddy.”, you whimper as you ran your tongue along his bottom lip. “Please. I need to feel you cum inside of me.” Steve’s forehead fell on yours as he chased his high, his heavy breathes fanning your face. “Look at me, Daddy. I want to watch your face as you cum.”

As your fingers reached to pull his hair, his hands gripped your wrists and held them against the mattress as he did what you asked. His beautiful brown eyes were incredibly glassy with want but you saw something else that made you breathily chuckle. 

“Steve…you…I can’t cum again, baby.”

He smirked as if to say he accepted the challenge, his gaze never leaving yours as he thrust into you so hard the bed shook. You pushed against his grip but he knew you weren’t trying to escape or in pain. You desperately wanted to touch him like you always did. Your cunt gripped him again and he grunted at the feeling as his smile grew.

“Keep your eyes on, Daddy, baby.”

As his face began to contort with pleasure, it was enough to push you one final time as you repeatedly moaned his name as you came. After getting what he craved, his eyes flicked to yours before squeezing shut and with a few more sloppy thrusts he released ropes of his seed deep inside of you. 

Steve’s body collapsed on yours and your arms promptly wrapped around him as he released you from his hold. He doesn’t remember when he fell asleep but when he woke up again, you were steadily breathing as your fingers played with his hair and your lips occasionally kissed his forehead. 

“Shit. Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s ok, old man.”, you giggle as he leaned up on his elbows to kiss your nose and move some of your damp hair out of your face. “You only slept for 20minutes. Now normally I wouldn’t complain but can you pull out please, Daddy.”

He chuckles to himself as he lifts his hips, mumbling apologies as your face scrunches in pain. 

“That wasn’t…I wasn’t too rough right?”

“No, baby. I’m just sore.” Your fingers reach up gently caress his cheek. “I like it though…feeling you through out my day.” Steve grins as he rests his chin on your tummy, looking up at you with nothing but admiration. “You could have told me, you know? About the Daddy thing.”

“I know. I just…I don’t know. I didn’t want you think I was a pervert or something.”

“Well, you’ve always been a pervert but not because of this.”, you laugh when he jokingly rolls his eyes. “Do…do you want me to incorporate it? I don’t mind.”

“Jesus Christ. How did I get so lucky to marry the coolest fucking woman?” He grins as he watches you blush. “No, we don’t have to do it every time. I like hearing you whimper my name.”

“Same. With the rough stuff, I mean. I’m definitely down for more roleplay, Mr. Harrington.”

“Speaking of you looked really beautiful in that dress. If I had known I would have bought a nicer suit or something. That was just my work outfit.”

“I still think you looked handsome.”

When you sigh, he climbs up the bed and lays on his back, yanking you to his side as he holds you tightly. 

“What are you thinking about now?”

You beam up at him as you tenderly kiss his lips before laying your head on his chest. 

“How lucky I am that I met you.”

####### Date Night Series

[yanderemommabean]

I love doctor Lee so much. Half of my brain is like 'haha he's so cute, he has a snake called Gilbert that's adorable'. The other half of my brain says:

'what if you were a patient at the hospital's mental ward, and Dr Lee was assigned to your case? He's generally caring and sweet, checking in on you every day to make sure you're alright.'

What if Lee comes in, asking you about side effects of the new medication that you're trying, but the line of inquiry soon grows uncomfortably invasive. Have you been feeling happier? Have you experienced a decrease in libido? How frequently do you think of masturbating? Do you think of anyone? Do you think of him?

Lee's a bit too friendly, actually. He examines you in ways that aren't strictly necessary, asking for you to disrobe so that he can check to see if you've injured yourself. The nurses would ignore you if you told them about what Lee does. He's already warned the staff that you're not the most trustworthy. Nobody would believe you. You're his lovely little patient, and he hopes that one day you'll accept it.

“I-I want to change doctors…I have a right to do that don’t I?!” you asked in a hushed, panicked voice. The nurse sitting before you sighs in annoyance, and while you don’t blame her, you’re also hurt because to her you’re just another patient causing problems.

“Dr.Lee has already notified us about why you’d want to change. You’re so lucky he hasn’t fired you as his own patient! You trying to get those drugs from other doctors could put you in jail you know? Lee is trying to actually help you”

You grit your teeth in frustration, trying not to lash out and shake the woman to get her to pay attention. You’re clearly not a fucking drug addict, or some psycho patient to just ignore. “No! No listen to me! Please!”

“Ah, I see our little butterfly is awake and eager today!” a deep, amused voice purrs from behind you. “Mrs. Williams, Ill take it from here. Go on, take an early break! It’s almost the holidays, you could use a bit longer to relax after working such a hard shift for me”.

Your face drains of color as the nurse happily leaves, thanking him as she walks away with a pep in her step. You shiver as he nuzzles into your shoulder and inhales deeply, murmuring something about how he loves the scent of your hair.

“You know, you trying so hard to escape me…It should make me mad” he sighs deeply, as if trying to keep himself calm. His hands wander down to clasp yours, pulling your knuckles up to his lips as he kisses them. “It should make me want to kill…but you have this way of being adorable even when panicked and upset”.

“You’re a sick fucker if you get off on me being terrified of you!” you hissed, trying to pull away, only to be yanked right up to his chest, face forced to look up at him as he grabs your chin. “Oh no no, dear butterfly, I don’t think you’re sexually appealing when scared. I think you’re adorable when scared of me. I get protective of you when you’re scared”

He forces you to press closer as he noses up the column of your neck, kissing right behind your earlobe “What makes my cock rock hard is knowing you can’t escape me, and that every night I get to indulge in you and your body…even if you insist that you hate me”.

You brokenly sob as his teeth begin to tease your skin, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to make your body betray you. “I feel those shivers” he states with a smirk, turning you to face the wall as he presses right against your back “I feel the way your body craves me, butterfly. Why must you always deny it? If you would just let me love you, this wouldn’t be so hard anymore”.

His hands cup your crotch, fingers pressing down firmly to massage and grope you, making your thighs tighten and shake as your breath quickens. “I-I hate you. I hate you!” you scream, but your voice soon becomes breathy and shaky while his hands slip into your underwear with ease. “Say that all you wish darling, I'm a professional. I know when my patient is lying to themself”

(Hiya! Sorry if this isn't up to par, I'm still recovering and work is kicking my ass mentally lol, but I love these types of scenarios! I hope you enjoyed! -Mommabean)

[the1975attheirverybest]

Queen of hearts

Acknowledgements and Disclaimers: this one goes out to all the moms out there. New moms. Experienced moms. Mom-to be. Yall are heroes man. All the love.

Shout out to the mutual who helped answer my pregnancy questions. Thanks for letting me pester you. You know who you are. Any mischaracterizations of pregnancy, labor, or postpartum are completely my own.

Warnings: brief depictions of labor. Mentions of depression. Also not proof read.

***

9 months had flown by like a dream. The whole thing had felt like a movie. And Matty, having made a career out of making life feel like a movie, was wary of the whole thing. Of course they’d had their ups and downs. Worrying over what constitutes a good parent and whether they were going to fuck this child up before it even had a chance to grow up and make its own mistakes. The occasional shock over how powerful and real hormone fluctuations can be. The Braxton Hicks scare. The late night cravings and the crying (some of which was done by him, if he’s being honest). Arguing over baby names, if the kid should be allowed to play football before a certain age lest they get injured. If, being the child of artists meant that the child would be sign up for music and art lessons, or if they would wait and see what the kid naturally gravitates towards. If gender-neutral clothing was inherently boring and lifeless, or, if it was ‘too woke’ to have a baby girl in a car onesie or a baby boy is a butterfly onesie. It was, after all, a pregnancy, not a walk in the park. But he’d loved and welcomed every bit of it. And so had Jo. He’d swelled with joy watching her nest and acquire baby clothes, paint the nursery, and start a vintage stuffie collection. He’d helped her curate a little library of children’s books for kids of all ages, to make sure their baby would be guaranteed a great start, no matter how advanced they turned out to be (Jo and Matty, were, of course, convinced that their child would be a genius). Looking back, even the labor and delivery process seemed perfect.

Jo had screamed at him the whole day.

“We can’t actually go to the hospital just yet. I called. The front desk woman told me to stay put and put on some yoga music.”

Jo had unleashed a string of obscenities upon him that he has chosen to omit from memory ( he remembers them perfectly. She had asked him if he was a demented fucker or if he would like this baby to come out or a teeny tiny hole in his penis instead). He had laughed, told her that she was funny and that he was falling in love with her all over again. She’d thrown the tv remote at his head, missing narrowly.

His gravest mistake, however, was trying to document everything. He’d brought a film camera into the delivery room, which the nurses had balked at. But Matty has been used to being called eccentric so he didn’t care. He wanted to remember every single moment of this day forever. And, when Jo had failed to convince him by making the same arguments that he often proposed at his own shows, for his own fans to put the camera away and just be in the moment, she’d decided to teach him an lesson by choosing not to warn him about the messiness of childbirth. The next thing she heard him say was “oh. So much blood.” Before he’d dropped the godforsaken camera to the floor, smashing it to bits. And ridding everyone of its evils forever.

“Oh my god, she’s here, Jo! I can see her head!” He’d rushed over to her, with tears in his eyes, squeezing her hand. “C’mon, Jo. You’ve got this! One more push.”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. It’s too much. I just- she’s gonna have to stay in there forever.”

“‘fraid we can’t do that, Josephine” the doctor shook her head. “She’s almost out which means it’s tight on her now, if you don’t push, you’re hurting her.”

Jo instantly burst into tears.

“No, no, no! Baby don’t cry!” Matty cooed, then turned towards the doctor. “Why the fuck would you say something like that to her? Right now, as well! are you TRYING to upset my wife right in the middle of the birth of my child?” He hovered over Jo protectively, wiping her sweaty forehead with one of the rags that the nurses had brought in, and kissing her. “You’re okay, Jo. Our baby is going to be okay. Deep breaths, yeah?”

“You promise?” She whispered, too embarrassed for the nurses and doctor to hear.

Matty swears, this, was the moment that he became a dad. Knowing that his wife and child needed him to be the sane and steady one for the first time completely changed him as a person.

Though he had no business making these promises, he’d never felt more certain of anything in his life. “I promise, my love. I’ve got you. And you’ve got our baby. She really needs you right now. So….lets do this, yeah?”

Jo nodded, watching the nurse approach and take her hand to pull her back into position.

“C’mon,love. One more push?” The matronly lady encouraged.

Jo screamed as she gave it her all, Matty’s hand in hers.

“Great! You’re doing great, Josephine! Give me one more push!” The doctor smiled.

“You said that last time! Every single time you say this is gonna be the last push! You’re fuckin lying.”

With tears in her eyes, Jo screamed and cussed out everyone in the room, pushing with all her might, until finally, the baby was out. She heard cheering and congratulations erupt around the room which was her cue to lay back and finally relax.

“Dad, Would you like to do the honors? cut the umbilical cord?” The nurse had asked.

“Oh? I- erm I …should. But I don’t wanna leave you? But also I don’t wanna leave…her- I….” Years later, Matty would realize that it was, in fact, this moment, that had made him into a dad. The moment that he felt conflict between choosing to stay by Jo’s side and hold her hand through what she had just accomplished , or let go of her hand to go meet his daughter instead.

“Go, Matty, go.” Jo had encouraged him, her voice weak from screaming. She nodded as he hesitantly loosened his hold on her hand.

“Let’s fuckin do this!” His shaky hands took the surgical scissors from the doctor and made the cut. “Oh my fuckin god, hiiii” matty cried as he met his daughter for the first time. He almost reached out to take her into his arms but, then, realized that it should be Jo who gets to hold her first.

“Would you like to-“

“Yes, oh god, yes, please?” Jo sat up straight.

Matty, with fresh tears still running down his cheeks, leapt into action adjusting her pillows to support her back as she leaned forward to receive her child.

“Oh god, Matty, look. She’s so….”

“Perfect.”

Everything, about Sophia, from conception to birth, had been perfect. So, it was a complete shock to Matty (and to Jo) when things changed postpartum.

It all started with Jo sleeping in a bit more than usual. At first, Matty had written it off as her body recovering from labor. After all, she’d literally housed, sheltered, and built a human being from scratch for 9 months. She was entitled to a little bit of extra sleep if that’s what she needed. Besides, he saw this as his opportunity to step in. While Jo was pregnant, Matty felt limited in how much help he could be. He flew back and forth in between tour dates to be at doctors appointments, and to help purchase the crib and pick out the nursery colors. He drove across the country to make it to specialty bakeries and shops to fulfill the strange flavor combinations of pregnancy cravings. But none of it was comparable to literally being pregnant. So, it was only fair that he take on some of the work now that the child was born, and let Jo get her rest.

He wanted to be the best dad he possibly could. So, he dove in head first. And he missed the signs. It wasn’t until he was holding Sophia in his arms, looking at Jo, as she laid in bed, saying “it’s a baby, Matty. All it does is cry and sleep. What does it want from me?” That he realized something was deeply wrong. By then, it was too late.

Matty walked around the messy house, eyes blood shot and sore. Whether it was the crying or the lack of sleep, he wasn’t sure. He went into the kitchen, pulling out a massive trash bag and hauling in all the empty takeout containers that had been sitting there all week, shoving them all into the trash bag. He needed to step up his housekeeping game. At this rate, they’ll be living in squalor by the next few days.

He pulled the only clean mug left out of the cupboard and reached for the coffee machine that had been on since this morning, pouring himself a cup.

“Fuckin hell.” He whispered at nothing in particular. What time was it? What day of week or month even was it? He tapped his phone screen for answers. It was a Wednesday in the middle of the month. Just shy of noon. He knew that the best thing he could possibly do for his family right now would be to admit that he’s in over his head. And ask for help.

***

“Where is she now?” Adam asked, stirring the sugar into Matty’s tea before placing the mug in front of him.

“home. Erm….the cleaning service is working on the house. Her mom is there, too, to watch Sophia while she showers and stuff, so….”

Adam nodded, at a loss for words. He squeezed Matty’s shoulder gently.

“What do I do? How do I fix this?” Matty’s eyes darted between Adam and Carly, who wizzed around the kitchen, preparing dinner, with her son at her feet.

“You can’t fix it, mate.” Adam shrugged. Sheepishly.

“I know; I know. But- what do I do?”

Adam simply rubbed his friends back, searching his brain for any words of solace or wisdom.

“Matty, have you eaten anything today?” Carly asked, with her back to him, standing at the stove and stirring something that Matty couldn’t quite see.

He was offended by the question. He’d come to her with the biggest problem he’s ever had to face and her response was to ask if he was hungry? Speechless and indignant, he shook his head. “I have not. No.” He gritted, anger palpable in his voice.

Carly knew better than to take it personally.

***

Carly and Adam exchanged a look. Adam nodded, rising to his feet and taking his child from between his mother’s legs. “C’mon, little man. It’s time for bed. Let’s get into the bath. Give mummy and uncle Matty a bit of time to chat.”

Carly walked over to Matty at the dining table, setting down two huge containers in front of him. “This one’s soup. This one’s chicken and veg. Take them home. Freeze the leftovers and defrost as needed.”

“Carly, I-“

“Comfort food is good. For both of you.” She smiled brightly. “She won’t have an appetite but keep offering it to her anyway.”

“Right.”

“I’m gonna send you a list. Maybe pop into the shops on your way home and buy some of it. Baby cream, nipple pads, stuff like that.”

Matty nodded, dutifully.

“I’ll speak to Patricia and Charli and everybody. We’ll start a rotation. Check in on her and- maybe even send you off to the store a few times. There are just some girl things that she might not have on. Just some bits and bobs to make her life easier.”

“Hmm. Yeah. I suppose.”

“Matty, darling, you know who you need to speak to here. Who she needs to speak to. And it isn’t me, and it isn’t Adam, or George, or Ross, or even a doctor who will rattle off some statistics at her. Why haven’t you done it yet?”

***

Carly was right. Matty knew the person for the job. The reason that he hadn’t called his mom yet was because he was ashamed. Ashamed to admit, in front of her, that he had failed. He’d failed his wife. Failed his kid. Failed to do what he claimed his mother’s struggle had taught him. Failed to be patient, failed to be empathetic. He expected too much from her and he resented her when she wouldn’t rise to it. And he hated that about himself.

But his mom was always there. All he needed to do was call her and say “mum, I need you.”

Denise rushed over.

“Oh, matty, it’s okay.” She placed her hand over his. “It’s different when it’s your partner, isn’t it?”

“Why, though? It shouldn’t be! It’s not like she’s any more or less of a person, a woman, or a mother than you were when you had me!”

Denise rolled her eyes. They both knew Matty was smarter than this. “Yeah, but that doesn’t matter, does it? You were 17 when I told you about my depression. It had been 17 years. You’d seen me differently. And you knew I loved you because you’d felt it your whole life. You were only finding out about that stuff after the fact. This is not the same. Besides, the way that you feel about your partner is not supposed to be like the way that you feel about your mother, or if it is then I haven’t done my job raising you right.”

Matty frowned and licked his lips, searching his brain for a clever comeback.

“You feel like you’ve been abandoned. Like she’s left all the parenting on you and you’re trying your best but she’s not giving you much to work with.” Denise simply stated.

Matty laughed in disbelief. “That’s absurd. She hasn’t abandoned me.”

“Course, she hasn’t. She’s got an illness, she’s not a bad mother. But that’s what it feels like. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared. You’re a new father too. You’ve got no idea what you’re doing and you want to be able to do turn to her but you can’t.”

“I- “ matty turned tongue-tied. Unsure how to respond. It made him uncomfortable to have his unspoken thoughts said out loud for him. “did dad ever…?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask him. I didn’t really speak much to him at the time. Sort of….blamed him for it, actually. A part of me felt like, somehow, he had done this to me or something.”

Matty listened, wondering if Jo felt that way about him.

“In fact, why don’t you go do that right now. Call him round. I’ll get upstairs and check on Jo.”

***

Tim left Matty flipping through old photo albums and went to answer the door, smiling wide and proud when he was met with Louis at his brothers doorstep. “You’re joining the crew?”

“You didn’t think you’d have a party without me and I wouldn’t find out about it, did ya?” Louis winked. “Nah, mum called. Said to come to Matty’s instantly.”

“Get in there!” Denise appeared behind them. “And don’t call it a party that’s insensitive.”

She shut the door, beckoning both men to huddle in the corner with her.

“We’re all here for one thing and one thing only.” Denise spoke with the command of a military officer issuing orders . “To watch the baby for the next two days. We work in shifts. Louis, you’re young and still have your back. You’ll take the overnight shift. Tim you start now. I’ll step in between you two.”

The two men exchanged a smile, nodding.

“And if you want to be here off the clock, you are not a houseguest. You don’t just sit sound and expect to be catered to. Consider yourself a contributing member of the household. Roll up your sleeves and see what needs doing around here. Let’s give them some time and room to figure out what Jo needs.”

***

Matty felt his heart shatter into a million pieces inside his chest when he walked into their bedroom and saw Jo, hugging the duvet, with tears in her eyes.

He rushed over to her, but as he reached for her hand, he recalled all the times that he’d tried to initiate any form of physical intimacy over the last few weeks —a hug, a cuddle, a kiss, sex— only for her to turn him down. He pulled away, hesitant, and not wanting to pressure her into anything. He wasn’t sure if these attempts were his way of trying to comfort her or if it was himself who needed the comforting. He would never think that he could possibly understand what she was going through, but, he couldn’t deny that he needed her, too. So much so that he was certain a simple touch from her would bring him to his knees.

“Jo, Darling,” he whispered, “fuck. You have no idea how much I wish I could kiss you right now.“

Jo blushed as if it were the first time that he had ever looked at her that way.

“Your mom- Denise, she…well, she and I talked. I don’t think I’m okay, Matty.”

He sat on the bed, looking at her. She was a shell of the person that he’d fallen in love with. “It’s alright, baby-“

“How can it be alright? I’m a mother! I- I’m a danger to my own child. When I should be her first and fiercest protector!” Jo yelled, sobbing into her own hands.

The sound of her crying was worse than a knife to Matty’s chest.

“Well, it’s a good thing she’s got me, then, isn’t it?” Matty pulled her into his lap, laying her head against him.

“I love her…” Jo tried to convince herself of her own words “ I want to love her.”

“Course, you do, Jo. You’re just not able to feel much of anything right now. Because of what you’re going through. But, we’ll fix it. I promise. We will.” He planted a kiss to her head “I’m sorry, honey. I’m really sorry I let it get this bad.”

“Matty, it’s not your fault-“

“No, it is. I- I thought that I was being a good dad by prioritizing Sophia over you. I thought it was what I was supposed to do. I thought it was what was best for us all.” She felt Matty’s tears dripping down onto her hair. “But it’s you, Jo. You’re what’s best for all three of us. Sophia and I need you. We’re nothing without you.”

Jo wished she had the will or capacity to comfort him, to want to hold her daughter in her arms. She knew it must be difficult on him, and she hated being a source of his pain.

“I’m sorry, Matty-“

“No!” She felt him stiffen. “Don’t. Don’t apologize. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, you hear me? You’re not alone. Neither are Sophia and I. Look how many people it took to get us to talk” he giggled at the thought. “Look how many people love you and want to support you.”

He saw the beginnings of a smile on her face. “Carly has practically started a catering business trying to feed us. You should see our kitchen. It’s never been this stocked up even when we’re both at home.”

Jo let out a small chuckle, the first since Sophia was born.

To Matty, that small sound was like finding water in the middle of wandering the desert.

***

Matty walked up and down room at the pace that he had discovered was most comfortable for baby Sophia to nap. He rocked her gently in his arms whispering, “you’re gonna be a sweet quiet girl yeah? Look at mommy. She’s so pretty when she’s asleep next to your crib, don’t you think, Soph? You take after her, that’s for certain. Let’s go get mommy a blanket, yeah? Shall we? Look at you! Taking care of mommy already. Bestest baby in the world, you are.”

[prince-liest]

THE DEED HAS BEEN DONE AND THE SHRIMP HAVE BEEN MOVED

The old SHRIMP CUBE, for posterity:

There’s a buce-covered little mopani wood log in there that isn’t very visible because of the sheer amount of salvinia on the surface, which I’ve moved to the main 20 gallon because I LOVE mopani wood and I also love how the buce rooted into it. I also moved the crypt in - it’s fun to see how different it is from the other two crypts that I bought from the same tissue culture, just from growing in a different tank. The ambulia is getting tossed, unfortunately. I love how dense and fluffy it is in low tech tanks, but high light and CO2 make it super leggy in the community tank and I hate it.

I want it on record that I started with ONE of these fuckers. I like the look and stick-together-ness of it a lot more than duckweed. I just got the first volume of Stars of Chaos in the mail and the intro page had a very poignant note on it that was completely lost on me because it specifically referred to duckweed and I’m traumatized from painstakingly picking tiny bits of it out of every plant my classmate has ever given me. I REFUSE TO SUCCUMB TO THE INFECTION.

Anyway, the move went well apart from me finding one tiny little baby shrimp and the tetras trying to eat it (probably the loaches will get him, RIP and apologies little buddy, it’s very unlikely that a shrimp colony will manage to reproduce in this tank even if the adults are going to be left alone), and it kinda strikes me how full and vibrant my community tank looks now. I have a couple of more changes I want to make (rip out the rest of the rotala macranada, let the ludwigia super red grow in instead, and refill the sand bank) but aside from that it just... looks really amazing now, especially compared to how much it’s grown from its starting point.

Here’s day 1:

And here it is today:

:D

[jinwoosungs]

{ 97 }

pray for me.

nicholas d. wolfwood x single.mother!reader

warnings: unedited; thirst post; minors do not interact.

by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.

the night was cold, seeming to pierce through you as you struggled to maintain your balance whilst running across the streets of jeneora rock. your voice was hoarse, crying out your son’s name as you searched for him with a desperation. 

you couldn’t believe how this all started simply because you wanted to make your son happy. due to how you were in charge of closing shift at the diner, you were given little choice but to take him with you. in hopes of keeping your son preoccupied, you had gifted him a rainbow colored ball all while telling him to remain inside the diner’s break room. 

you had listed off some rules for him to follow, and truly believed that he would behave himself. so when it came time to close the diner after you had finished cleaning the place, you could almost feel your heart drop to your stomach when he was nowhere to be seen in the break room. 

the cold sweat was felt pooling against the nape of your neck, and when you searched around for him while bathed in complete and utter despair, you swore your heart broke upon seeing how the diner’s back door was left wide open. 

and that was all the urging you needed to come rushing out of the diner. 

having your son when you were just 20 years old, being a consequence of a one night stand you had hoped would lead to something fruitful due to your loneliness- 

but oh, how wrong you were at the thought. for when the man who had helped fathered the life growing deep inside of you found out you were carrying his child, he had ghosted you within mere seconds. you recall just how terrified you felt at the thought of becoming a single mother. 

since the moment you were born within the cold and barren world, you had always been alone. your memories were filled with yearnings and daydreams pertaining to how you would find someone who would love you unconditionally and raise a family with them. and despite how you found yourself loathing the man you had slept with-

you couldn’t bring yourself to carry any amount of hate towards the child growing from within you. 

each day, your heart simply grew with an intensity for your baby boy, not stopping such powerful emotions from becoming stronger even when he was born. for five long years, you spent caring for him, growing with him as he helped you learn to love yourself.

you had to find him, for if you lost him, then you would have no reason to live. 

your voice echoes throughout the sleepy town, becoming hoarse when a familiar, shrill cry was heard, the sound of it piercing through your very heart. 

“MOMMY!” you follow the sounds of your son’s terrified cries, leading you to an alleyway as you were face to face with a powerful man trapping your son within his arms. he held your child in a powerful grip, close to breaking his arm just as your adrenaline reaches its peak. 

“my, i was hoping that by catching this little brat, i’d be able to get your attention.”

“you fucking bastard, unhand him at once.” you automatically stalk closer to him, having every intention of ripping those damn hands away from your son when the sudden appearance of a gun pressed against your child’s head makes you stop dead in your tracks. 

“if you take a step forward, i’ll blow his fucking brains out, and if you refuse to cooperate, heh. i might give you the same treatment as well.”

you were close to screaming, about to ask this fucker just what he wanted when you felt a sudden presence coming from behind you. from your periphery, you saw what looked like a hefty metal cross. the faint scent of cigarettes were all that filled your senses, and you found yourself turning back to look behind you. 

he wore a bored expression on his face, eyes hidden beneath a pair of sunglasses as a cigarette hung loosely from his thin lips. keeping his gaze on the bastard that still held your son hostage, he gestures at you to take a step back before aiming the cross at him. 

“don’t you know it’s rude to separate a child from his mother?” 

you weren’t given a chance to breathe when a sudden, pulsating beam of light was suddenly aimed at the prick and your son-

oh dear gods, your son...!

your eyes water for the briefest of seconds, opening as the tears streamed down your face with you reaching out to him-

only to feel the same, strange man in the suit step closer to you, all while placing the child within your outstretched arms. your heart began to pound, racing anxiously from within your chest as you felt as though it were close to imploding. you look into that man’s eyes, seeing his gaze soften just the tiniest bit at the sight of you clinging to your son. 

“i...i don’t know what to say-” you trail your eyes forward, trying to see just what had happened to that bastard only for your savior to step directly in front of you, as if trying to shield you from such a malicious sight. 

“i wouldn’t if i were you.” he warns, voice turning deeper before letting out a grunt as he tosses his cigarette to the side. with a soft coo in your voice, you could still hear your son whimpering with fear. “mama, h-he destroyed my ball, the one you g-gave to me. and i d-don’ want you to be m-mad at me.” you continue to comfort him, telling him that it was more than okay, and that you were happy to buy him a new ball later. 

his tears were still felt staining the front of your shirt, but all you felt was a staggering relief that he had been saved. “i...i don’t know what else to say, i- thank you.” 

your gaze remained honed in on his form when you beckon him to tell you his name. the man seemed hesitant, looking away from your gaze before letting out a sigh. “it’s nicholas, nicholas wolfwood...” he trails off, holding his giant weapon across his shoulder before lifting a hand to grace at your features, gently framing at your cheek, “and besides, there’s no need to thank me. a kid needs his mother to grow up healthy and strong.” 

knowing that you would do anything to show this man simply known as nicholas your gratitude for saving your entire world, you muster all the courage you had and ask him to escort you back home-

and much to your shock, it works. 

------

by the time you came back to the safety of your apartment, your son was all but worn out. you settle him back within the comfort of his bedroom, tucking him into bed before pressing a lingering kiss against his forehead, whispering your love to him once more before exiting his room. 

you close his door and look behind you to see nicholas standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room. he had his massive weapon settled over to the corner of the room. your heart was pounding, nearly choking you with its anxious beats when you step closer to him. “can i offer you anything to drink? or to dine on, for that matter?” 

nicholas meets your gaze before shaking his head, “ah, no. that won’t be necessary. since you’re already home with your kid, i should probably go.” 

your mind was spinning, desperate to somehow show him just how grateful you were to him for saving your son. stepping closer to him, your hands slowly reach up to remove the sunglasses that hid his eyes from your curious gaze. he keeps staring at you with an unreadable expression, yet you couldn’t help but admire the beauty of his rich, dark cobalt gaze before bringing yourself even closer to him. clutching at the front of his dark suit, meeting his eyes for the briefest of moments before your lips collided with his in a bruising kiss. 

you could feel him groaning, unable to hold back his own desires for you when his arms come to wrap themselves around your form. you kept pressing yourself closer to him, letting out a soft whine of his name when he pulls away from your heated kisses first. 

“oi, this doesn’t seem fair. i don’t even know your name yet- oh, fuck.”

you cut him off by gently nipping at the base of his throat, telling him your name in a sultry voice before pulling away from the lanky man. you tug at his wrists, giving him no choice but to follow you as you lead him to your bedroom. 

your clothes were strewn all across your room, leaving you both bare as you began kissing your way down nicholas’s body. his pale form was surprisingly built as you admired the lean muscles that seemed to decorate his frame. his hands kept delving themselves within your hair, letting out a grunt here and there each time you gave a few nips against his skin. 

you continue kissing your way down his body, placing a lingering kiss against his chest, where you could feel his heart beating from beneath your lips before going lower...and yet lower still. you didn’t stop the way you trail your lips down until you reached the slight trail of dark hair leading down his abdomen. you admire the prominent v shaped dip seen against his hips and felt your mouth water when you came face to face with his throbbing erection. 

filled with the need to please him, your hands slowly began to stroke him, forcing a loud groan to escape from his lips. “you must behave, mr. wolfwood, or else you’ll wake up my darling son...and i would be forced to stop.”

“nngh...!” your words succeeds in making him bite against his fist, feeling your lips kissing at his inner thighs as he fought back the urge to thrust his cock inside of your mouth. pressing one last kiss against his thighs, you return your attention back to his aching shaft, admiring how pretty it was for a brief moment before descending upon him. 

your lips wrapped themselves around his mushroom tip, feeling a moan escape from the confines of your throat when nicholas arches his back against the bed. you feel him suddenly dart forward, remaining stiffened and upright against your bed when he feels you take him in. your hands worked on pumping whatever couldn’t fit within your mouth, feeling your own core fluttering with absolute need for him each time he lets out a breathy moan of your name. 

unable to handle the ache for much longer, you remove one of your hands away from his girth to reach down against the aching flower between your legs. the way you slowly began touching yourself while keeping sucking at his shaft doesn’t go unnoticed by nicholas when he suddenly lets out a strained whisper of your name. 

within seconds, you found yourself suddenly pulled away from his cock as nicholas’s arms were wrapped around you. he grunts, sitting up so that you were now pressed against your bedsheets before spreading your legs. once you were wide open for him, nicholas leans down to devour at your slick walls. 

he was relentless when it came to pleasuring you, the all-consuming pleasure you felt was enough to make your back arch against your bed. now, you were the one who struggled to keep your moans quiet, biting down against the back of your hand with such intensity that you could feel your teeth imprint against your skin. 

the squelching sounds nicholas made the moment he introduces a slender finger within your gummy walls was enough to make you cry out. you were so close to reaching your completion- ready to spill yourself inside of his mouth when he suddenly pulls away from you. 

almost immediately, your hands reach out to him, ready to let out a string of protests when nicholas wraps your legs around his waist, tracing at the outer lips of your slick walls before thrusting himself deep inside of you. you could feel the scream of pleasure nearly become ripped from your throat had it not been for the fact that nicholas had surged forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

“careful, you need to keep quiet, remember?” nicholas’s voice had taken on a darker tone, making you tremble at how sensual he sounded while shamelessly licking away the tears of pleasure that fell down across your cheeks. 

it has been far too long since you had been intimate with any man. your days and free time were dedicated to caring for your son, and thanks to nicholas, you were finally able to feel like a woman. as if experiencing some form of  enlightenment each time nicholas’s hips met with yours. 

you could truly feel every inch of him as he pounded himself into you, the obscene sounds of your union making you roll your eyes back in response. you were so close, so close to reaching your high as you felt whispered phrases of “oh god oh god oh god, this feels so good, nicholas...!” 

“that’s right.” he leans down to press a kiss against your swollen lips, biting down against them before hoarsely telling you, “pray for me, pray for me to bring you to heaven as you come.” 

that was all the urging you needed to feel the coil snap within your abdomen as a silent cry was felt escaping from your lips. your walls began to convulse around nicholas, trapping his cock deep within your womb as your walls began to milk him for all he was worth as he shoots his seed deep within your core, painting your slick walls white with his release.

truly, it had been so long since you felt such an intense release, making you fall back against your bed with nicholas landing on top of you. a light sheen of sweat was seen all across your skin, and his heavy weight was actually quite comforting to you as you felt his lips press lingering kisses against your damp neck.  

feeling exhausted, you tilt your head over to press a kiss against his cheek, thanking him once more before allowing yourself to succumb to your exhaustion.

------

the coldness you felt surrounding you was what ultimately rouses you from your peaceful slumber. 

you sit up in bed, letting out a soft gasp of nicholas’s name-

only to find that your bedroom was completely empty. 

your heart breaks at the sight, making you get out of bed as a faint soreness was felt between your legs. with shaky steps, you pick up your clothes and put on the shirt you wore last night, still smelling the faint scent of sweat and cigarettes lingering against your skin. 

coming out of your bedroom, you saw that it was still early in the morning and that your son was still asleep. despite the ache you felt from nicholas’s sudden disappearance, you knew that it was for the best-

and besides, you still had your son to love and care for after all. 

trying to ignore the fact that nicholas’s cross was nowhere to be seen, you were about to check on your son when the sight of something colorful catches your attention. facing the object, you felt your heart suddenly race with anticipation once more, seeing the sight of a new, brightly colored ball settled against your table with a folded piece of paper next to it. 

your steps were shaky and uneven, coming closer to your table as you lean down to get the note. unfolding it, you suddenly felt a warmth coursing through your veins when you read the following words written in a hurried scrawl:

for your kid. 

i look forward to seeing you again someday. 

-yours

ndw.

a.n. - hhhhh forgive me father for i have sinned. dear god is nicholas d. wolfwood an attractive man.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[hairmetal666]

Steddie Notes BONUS PART

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Eddie wakes up to an empty bed. He’s a little surprised, honestly, since he had his heart set on first anniversary morning sex. Though, based on the smells wafting through their apartment, Steve’s making breakfast, which is an acceptable alternative (plus, if he has it his way, they aren’t leaving the bed again today).

The digital alarm clock on his bedside table is obscured by a Composition Book he doesn’t remember bringing to bed. He reaches for it before his brain registers the red ink dragon sketched on the cover. His hands tremble as he flips it open, but the first few pages are written in his own scrawl. Steve’s handwriting doesn’t appear until 10 pages in and Eddie’s heart stutters at the sight.

March 28, 1986

God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. So, so fucking sorry. I can’t— I’m sorry. I should have been there, I should’ve protected you, I should’ve kept you safe. 

You wouldn’t be part of this if it weren’t for me. Robin and Dustin keep telling me that's not true, that Chrissy was already cursed but. Robin is here because of me. Erica-fucking Sinclair is here because of me. And now you. And you’re dying. And it’s my fault. 

I don’t even know what I’m doing right now, but I can’t just sit and wait, I’d lose my mind. Anyway. You left this notebook in my trunk, and I hope you don’t mind that I’m using it. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been this terrified in my life, Eds.

Please don’t die on me. I can’t live in this world without you. 

March 29, 1986

Hey Eds

You made it through the night. I can’t fucking believe it. I ripped Robin’s shirt when the doctor came in to tell us that you were out of surgery and stable, and then he dropped the bomb that your chance of surviving the night was 40%. Forty-fucking-percent. I guess you beat the odds, babylove.

I’m with Uncle Wayne at your bedside. He threw a fit to make sure I could be here whenever I wanted, and that everyone could visit.

You’ve missed some wild shit, Munson, you’re going to be so mad when you wake up. 

Come back to me, sweet boy. I can’t take this.

March 30, 1986

Made it through a second night, babe. 

I hope you wake up soon. 

Miss you like crazy. 

I keep looking at you in this hospital bed, and you look so fucking small. I hate it. You’re the loudest voice in the room. You don’t just take up space, you demand it. It’s killing me that I haven’t heard your voice in days. And my brain, it keeps filling in things you would say, and I wait for you to speak up, but of course you don’t. It’s a kick to the balls every single time. 

The thing is. 

The thing is that I need you to wake up, Eddie. You can’t leave me. I made up my mind a long time ago, we’re spending our lives together. And it can’t fucking end now. It can’t end because of this. 

And I need you to open your goddamn beautiful eyes so I can tell you how much I love you. You don’t get to go before you hear me say it, do you understand?

I love you. You’re it for me. I’ve never wanted a forever as much as I want one with you. So, you have to wake up, yeah? You have to wake up so we can grow up, have a family, have a life together. 

Promise you won’t leave me, Eds.

March 31, 1986

You woke up, you motherfucker. The doctors kicked me out to look you over and I cried so hard in the bathroom that Robin made El break down the door with her powers. 

Thank you for coming back. I won’t ever let you go again.

April 7, 1987

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m giving this to you, babylove. It’s been a year. Look how far we’ve come. 

✏️✏️✏️✏️

September 18, 2015

It’s way too fucking early for Eddie to even be awake and he has the day off. Steve asked him to take vacation months ago, didn’t say why, and now that fucker has the audacity to not even be in the house. And like, sure, they’ve been together for close to thirty years, and Eddie knows that Steve goes for a run at the ass crack of dawn.

Still pisses him off, though. 

Eddie huffs down to the kitchen to get coffee started, doing a double take when he sees a familiar black Composition Book with red dragon on the cover. 

He walks towards it slowly because this has been framed on the wall since their first anniversary, way back in ’87, and Steve isn’t home.

Eddie opens it, re-reads the panicked, lovesick notes Steve wrote in the hospital, doesn't bother to fight back the tears. He gets to the last letter and the paper is stiff and wrinkled, like it took water damage. Eddie flips the page, grief already pumping through his veins.

What he sees instead is college-ruled notebook paper, glued in place. It reads:

“I fucking hate this class.”

“Tell me about it.”

“trig. You?”

“Algebra 2 :(” 

A sound escapes his mouth, something between a laugh and a sob.

“Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me...”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of beautiful, Munson?”

“Watch. The. Movie. This is the last time we get high first if this is how you behave.”

 “What are you gonna win me at the fair, Harrington?” 

 “If you’re nice to me, probably something cute.” 

“Eddie…I think I really like you

You’re my favorite person in the entire world

Some days you’re the only thing I can think about

I want to wake up in bed with you everyday

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you

Do you like me? Yes or No”

“What are you doing about Hellfire?”

“Huh?”

“If the game is Friday. Lucas can’t do both.”

“He made his choice.”

“You ever been in love?”

No, but I think I’m falling”

“I love you, Eddie”

All the sketches of the sailor boy and the rockstar are there, even the one Eddie stuck to the poster in his room, though how Steve managed to get that is anyone’s guess.

There are pictures too, Eddie and Max still recuperating in the hospital; Corroded Coffin performing at the Hideout; them holding the keys to the bar, Steve shirtless and hammering something while Eddie looks on, with the increasingly popular bands Eddie booked to play their must-see Friday night slots; Steve on his first day of college and one of him jumping into Eddie’s arms in his graduation gown, mortar board slipping off his head; In the hospital cradling their twin girls with Max giving a weary thumbs-up between them. Shot after shot of their family, their life, their dreams coming true. A scrapbook of their lives together, big moments and small; good and bad. 

Eddie’s crying freely as he flips through the rest of the book, still fucking astounded that Steve is the love of his life, that they’re making a forever together.

Eddie flips to the last page. Stops dead. 

In Steve’s looped handwriting, unchanged since high school, it says:

“Eddie, 

         Will you marry me?”

“What the fuck?” He yelps, standing up fast enough that his chair crashes to the floor. 

He turns and Steve— his reason for being, the man that brought him back from the dead—Steve Harrington, is down on one knee, something silver glinting in his outstretched hand.

“Eddie,” he says, his voice a wreck. “Marry me?” 

Eddie crashes to his knees, shoving at Steve’s shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

Steve laughs. “Is that a yes?”

Eddie laughs too, but it quickly morphs into a sob, “Of course it’s a yes, Steve. Of course.”

Hands trembling, Steve slips the ring onto Eddie’s hand. It’s a thin silver band with skeletal hands contorted into an infinity symbol. 

They fall into a kiss that rips the breath from Eddie’s lungs, but then that’s nothing new. When they finally pull apart Eddie asks, “why today?”

Steve blushes and grabs at the back of his neck. “Thirty-one years ago, I walked into Mundy’s class and found a note on the window ledge.” 

“What the fuck.” Eddie’s mouth drops, his heart stuttering. This man.

“Once I figured out you leaving that note was going to be one of the most important moments of my life? I made sure to never forget.”

“Baby.” Eddie pulls Steve in for another kiss. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Steve tugs at Eddie’s hand. “C’mon.”

“Where we going?” 

“The girls will be here in a couple hours, and I have some things I want to do to you before they’re home.”

“The GIRLS?” Eddie shrieks. “How the hell long have you been planning this? Did they KNOW?”

“Since the end of June,” Steve answers without missing a beat. “And of course they know. Everyone knows. I asked Wayne for his blessing.” 

Eddie can’t speak, his heart crashing in his chest as he, once again, thanks whatever entity made it possible for him to have this.

“I’ve been in love with you for over half my life, Eds. I wanted to do this right. You deserve it. We deserve it.” 

He pulls Steve into his arms, kissing him hard enough that their teeth clack, but neither of them care.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

When they come home from dinner, as Steve reaches in his pocket for his keys to let the entire family in the house to celebrate their engagement, he finds a gum wrapper tucked in with the metal. He unfolds it, the words within unfurling in his heart, his soul.

"Thank you for giving me forever, sweetheart."

Edited: check out the full version on ao3!

This is officially the end! I hope you enjoyed this little (long) bonus part. Thanks for reading! 💜💜💜

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