#outside of that i am very excited about this prompt

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

somnophilia with John wick from the prompts? 👉🏽👈🏽

jw & fem reader

gif by the wonderful @scarlettspectra. TRIGGER WARNING(s) Somnophilia (from Latin somnus "sleep" and Greek φιλία, -philia "friendship") is a paraphilia in which an individual becomes sexually aroused by someone who is unconscious. & a bit of exhibitionism

You had waited for him all day. Flitting around the house, cleaning and cooking and making sure everything was in line for his arrival. Wearing his favorite dress, playing his favorite music on the stereo, chilling a fresh bottle of his favorite bourbon.

A month and a half. That’s how long it had been since you last saw the person  whose presence gave meaning to your life. So, naturally, you were brimming with excitement, heart pattering wild and strong in your chest, body giddy and jittery—unable to regulate haywire nerves. John was coming home. 

He wasn’t often gone for this long. It was an important job. Something involving a very, very rich man paying him to complete a very, very difficult task. Of course, you knew what his tasks usually included, but didn’t like to think about it too much—couldn’t think about it too much…

It was just hard to imagine…your John killing someone. The same John that took bugs outside instead of squashing them, who cleaned up his bar table and tipped more than generously, who always held the door open and returned shopping carts. Who was sweet and kind and treated you like you were made of paper-thin glass unless you specifically requested otherwise. 

The text comes in mid-evening, just as you’re putting his untouched dinner away and cleaning up the kitchen. Hey, dollbaby, my flight got delayed until tomorrow at six AM. I’m sorry. Don’t stay up worrying about me.

It’s disappointing, but you have to admit you’re used to this. It just comes with what he does, and you’ll gladly endure it with a smile for him. However, that doesn’t mean you can grant his request and stop yourself from worrying. With a little sigh, you type back: Okay, John. Love you.

I Love you, too.

You try and pass the time; go for a late swim, read a book, snuggle up on the big leather couch to scroll TV channels for movies. Except none of that works to distract you from John’s missing shadow, and you just end up with your head buried in a throw pillow, inhaling his residual scent and pretending the cushion is his chest.

You decide to invite some friends over for a good distraction, and they bring card games and beer and wine. You have your own stash of alcohol, so between you and three of you closest, you end up drinking a little too much and passing out halfway through game night. 

John finds you in the icy blue light of breaking dawn, breathing even and slow and slung haphazardly on top of your mattress. The residual burn of spirits heat your skin ruddy, and you have long since kicked the comforter off to leave yourself bare and unsuspecting of the hungry wolf who’s cock fattens at the sight of you—his big tshirt snuggling against your curves, the hint of a panty seam visible along the soft skin of your hip

He discards his clothes into a pile on the floor, too starved for flesh to care about being his usual tidy self, and climbs on the bed to run the tip of his tongue along that delicious cut crease of supple flesh.

You stir and whine, hand coming up momentarily to bat the tickly feeling away, only to weakly fall back down onto the bed, its task lost in the dark deep of your slumber. 

With a wicked grin, he moves his mouth down your thigh, licks into the seam behind your knee, then treks a wet path of kisses over your calves. You squirm and kick, trapped by heavy sleep, defenseless under his tongue.

He knows that, by now, you’d be begging him sweetly to make you cum, arching up into his teasing mouth for more, hanging on to his beautiful throw of silky hair as he laps at your panties. Always so impatient, his sweet girl. 

God, he missed you. Missed your smell and taste, the way you buck your hips, that little tender space between thigh and cunt that makes you squeal when he flicks it with his tongue. 

He nudges your panties to the side to reveal an already glistening wet and swollen pussy, your clit ripe and fresh, ready for his mouth to pluck and taste. Even in your sleep, you’re more than ready to sheath his cock.

He suckles at your folds gently while you stir awake with a sleepy little moan. “J-joh-jjj,” you slurr, gripping at the plump pillows while your cunt tenses and thighs attempt closing. 

So sensitive in that foggy place between sleep and wake, with his familiar mouth on you, impatient and insistent.

He holds your thighs open and eats—devours your cunt sloppily from the back, groaning about how good you taste and how much he missed it. “It’s okay, baby, no no no, come’ere, I gotcha. That’s my girl.” Two fingers curled inside, coaxing a fast approaching orgasm from your perfect little pussy. 

“Gonna, gonna-ah c-cum,” you tell him, clenching on his fingers, once shy clit now grinding down onto his tongue. You’ve just missed him so much, and it’s been so long, and you haven’t even touched yourself at his specific request, so it’s no surprise that it only takes seconds of cunnulingus just the way he’s learned you love it to have you soaking the sheets below your hips. 

“Good job,” he coos, bringing you down with little kisses to your puffy lips and chafed thighs, sucking his fingers clean and closing his eyes against the savory flavor of your slick. “You okay, babydoll?” 

“Uh huh,” you tell him, still twitching from the heavy orgasm, eyes threatening to close again, too tired to wipe the little bit of spittle off your chin. 

You feel him shift behind you, and then his thick tip press against your still spasming entrance, ready to overwhelm and overstimulate and leave you a babbling mess. His cock is built for your pleasure and demise, and as he enters, invading and pillaging the sensitive walls of your cunt, your eyes fly open and you sob into the pillow.

Something like, “o-oh fuck-“

“Shhh, baby.” His warm touch finds the base of your skull, that soft tug on your unkempt tangles guiding you back into his slow, deliberate thrusts. “Your friends are in the living room, gotta be quiet for me.” 

“Y-yeah Jo-ohn.” You try and tell him just how much you missed him, but the words jumble and stick, translating to half-muffled moans. Tears bead at your waterline in submission to that first stretch of his unfairly girthed cock. 

He understands your incoherent babbles perfectly. “Fuck,” he growls, tip kissing your cervix, “I missed you, too. Missed this tight little cunt.”

You have to bite down on your knuckles to keep the animalistic sounds of pleasure at bay, as he fucks you. So often, this beautiful man makes love to you, slow and soft. This is not one of those times. 

If you could think, it would be about how loud the sound of his hard pelvis clapping against your soft ass is, as he chases that otherwise unobtainable high that only your cunt can bring—that he thought about every single minute he was gone…the reason he’s alive.

You’re sobbing from it all—the way he splits you open so perfectly, the tiny dark whispers of reassurance, the fact that he’s alive and well and all over and around you; big hand pressing your lower back down for better and deeper access inside your cunt.

The way he just knows, even in his own rough desperation, how to unravel you—make you see the cosmos and beyond, into the soupy blackness of unexplored universe. 

“You coming again, baby?” He doesn’t have to ask, because he knows you are, more than familiar with the way you unfold and shatter. 

“Y-yeah-huh.”

He puts you on your back with practiced gentleness, and cups your sweaty cheeks in his hands before sucking your bite-swollen lower lip into his mouth, managing to stay buried inside you through the easy transition, swallowing your whimpers while his cock works out the final flutters of your orgasm. 

“Oh, John,” you say, when he stops licking at your throat to allow the both of you some much-needed, panting breath. “F-fuck, John.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he says, brushing the sweaty hair off your temples and pecking tiny wet kisses over your face. “I gotcha, it’s okay. Johnny’s here. Open your pretty eyes, let me see you.” 

In a deep, stuttering thrust, when you clamp like a vice around him, he loses himself inside of you, and you are with him. Utterly overtaken, love burning through your blood, body singing in rapturous heavenly choir. This is as close to the pearly gates you will ever get, you think, as you float down from the high. 

There is a cut on his temple that you failed to notice, and you touch just below. “You got hurt.” 

“I’m better, now.” 

With him nestled beside you, arms wrapping around and sheltering your body with his own, legs supporting your bottom and cock still softening inside your cunt, you feel sleep creep back up like an old friend.

It isn’t long before he’s succumbed to it, himself, happily snoozing nestled in your hair. You don’t know what he’s been through in that long stretch of absence, but it doesn’t matter now. 

He’s here with you, and that’s enough.

[silhouettecrow]

365 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 199

Adjective: Unknown

Noun: Raven

Definitions for those who need/want them:

Unknown: not known or familiar; (of a performer or artist) not well known or famous

Raven: a large heavily built crow with mainly black plumage, feeding chiefly on carrion; the constellation Corvus

[sysig]

You don’t get to pick your own nickname, Spamton, that’s like the whole point (Patreon)

[drunkkenobi]

Hi bb, ty for the prompt to write my thoughts!

So I can't get on tumblr at work anymore unless I go outside to get good signal on my phone so I have only been privy to what's going on here today from friends on discord. So maybe I'm missing some nuance or the what my mutuals think and I apologize in advance for that but I'm going to speak plainly.

This is the only way Watcher is going to survive.

The view counts have been steady through Mystery Files season 2 but they aren't, like, astronomical. A video with a million views nets a channel between $10,000 - $30,000. Guys. That's nothing for Watcher. They have to pay each of their 25+ employees a salary with insurance and benefits and for everything else their channel requires. Steven said in the video today that a season of Ghost Files costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. I don't think everyone is hearing that part and understanding how much money that is, especially compared to many other YouTubers they watch. I'm not an expert on other YouTubers but I look at the Sims people I watch. They are successful with views in the hundred k range because they are a company of one. Themselves and maybe paying a freelancer to help edit their videos. For one person, the stakes are lower and the potential for profit is higher! Especially for gamers that are filming in their homes. YouTubers like this, making niche content on the cheap, are who is going to make it in YouTube now.

Watcher is none of those things. They have, from day one, wanted to make high quality unscripted content. All of their shows are shows. They aren't just "Ryan and Shane do [thing]" or "Steven eats [whatever]". They are shows, like ones you see on cable TV or any streamer. And shows are not cheap. Unscripted is cheaper, sure, than scripted. But that doesn't mean cheap. Especially not with the sheer production value we've seen on all their shows, in particular Ghost Files (hundreds of thousands of dollars). That is how much something like Ghost Adventures costs, which is on Travel Channel, an actual TV network that puts up all those costs.

So. That's why Watcher has to pivot to survive.

I think it's a great idea, personally. And yes, I am in a position where I can financially afford it no problem, which I know is a privilege! I am very lucky in that regard. And I understand that many people are upset they won't see the boys as easily on YouTube anymore. That is valid! But they have openly said they are totally fine with password sharing and I think that's a great way to cut down on costs for some folks. Also right now there's a great deal on the yearly sub for early subscribers. $40 for a year is cheaper than any streaming service and it doesn't go to anyone other than Watcher.

I understand that people feel hurt and blindsided, but I think Watcher is also feeling this too. They have been so excited about this and being able to make whatever they want without having to worry about sponsors and now they're mostly seeing anger directed their way. Especially at Steven. Steven is not rich. You know who's rich? David Zaslav, a man who is single-handedly ruining Warner Brothers and making himself a billionaire while he's at it. THAT is the kind of person we should be directing our anger at streaming prices and quality of the media landscape at. Not one small business that is just trying to survive so they can continue paying their employees.

And one more thing. I've seen folks saying they'd rather watch more ads than pay and while I get that, that's not going to help Watcher make what they want. YouTube famously demonetizes videos with swears which is why I can't watch a video with DRAG QUEENS without every other line being bleeped and Watcher has been so good about not bleeping their content because they know we would hate it. And YouTube does this because of advertisers. Advertisers only want to appeal to the most broad of audiences so that means not supporting anything slightly left of center. Having to deal with ads sucks from the creator perspective and does not help them in the long run.

Anyway, this is all a bit rambling, but these are my thoughts on WatcherTV. I'm extremely excited to subscribe and make them make more Weird Wonderful World. I hope to see you all there.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

💬 I’d love to put Pin and Joel in a compromising position (as innocent or as spicy as you like) where someone walks in on them. Specifically either Ellie or Tommy. Someone that will make Joel burn bright red with embarrassment as they rib him mercilessly. And even though Pin would normally be mortified seeing Joel squirm is so endearing and hilarious for her.

(P.S. huge fan girl of your writing ♥️)

Rookie Mistake

Seams sleepover micro drabble request | 590 words | warnings: rated a very light E, making out and touching in a semi-public place | can be read independently of the series but is part of the Seams universe

This is an extension of Hallow'seams, following immediately from the end of that drabble. I recommend a re-read it before diving into this one!

Joel knows it’s a rookie mistake. It’s embarrassing, really.

But when it comes down to it, it’s your fault. All the blood from his head rushes south once he spots that little costume of yours, until the only thought left is to hold you to your invitation.

‘And what does my champion demand as punishment -'

He never thought much of the toolbelt, a hand-me-down he picked up at the local shop in his first weeks in Jackson. 

But on you, it’s something else. Gripping the well-worn leather, he manhandles you across the small space of the bathroom to press you against a waist-high cupboard, and you take the smack on your ass as a cue to hop onto the surface with a grin.

And with that, he’s fucking throbbing for you, straining against the cheap, fake leather gladiator skirt. He knows not much can happen here, but the sound of the party just outside the flimsy door lends an excitement that makes his breath ragged.

Tipping you back so that you’re leaning against the wall, he pushes your legs apart to stand in between them. He pulls roughly on the toolbelt, prompting a gasp from you when he jolts your hips into his, rasping, ‘How am I supposed to look at that from now on, huh?’

‘Let’s just hope Tommy doesn’t borrow it,’ you sass back.

He growls at your retort, as if he can get any harder than he already is. ‘I got half a mind to tell you what to do with that smart mouth, sweetheart -’

Grabbing the scruff of his cape, you pull him in for a hard kiss, the boldness coaxing a deep groan out of him as he presses into you, big hands palming your ass and pulling you flush against him, hips rolling, rubbing his clothed cock between your thighs, chasing friction through the layers -

‘Holy shit!’

It takes Joel a second to pull back from you, the beer in his system rendering him slow to respond to the sudden interruption. But still, his first instinct is to shield you from whoever it was that showed up at the door.

That whoever turns out to be his little brother, in a baker’s costume (Maria is the oven with the bun, get it?), with a shit-eating grin on his face, leaning on the doorframe like the cat with the cream.

‘Get the fuck out of here, Tommy!’

‘I don’t know about that, big brother. Looks like you need me to rescue you from the big bad contractor trying to get under your skirt,’ he grins and waves at you over Joel’s shoulder. ‘Hey, Pin!’

Going beet red, fists clenching, Joel spits out, ‘Goddamnit, I mean it, fuck off Tommy!’

‘I wish I could, but Maria needs to pee. You know how pregnant women are.’

Breathing a frustrated breath through the nose, he grunts. ‘Fine. We’ll be right out.’

The door closes with a thud, and with an embarrassed groan, he presses his forehead to yours. ‘Sorry my brother’s such a dick, sweetheart.’

‘I heard that!’ comes Tommy’s indignant reply through the door.

You laugh, combing a hand through his tousled hair, but your glazed eyes tell him that you’re no happier at the disruption than he is. ‘What else are little brothers for?’

Making room for you, Joel catches you when you hop off the cupboard, and just so you know that the night is far from over, he slants his lips over yours in a heated kiss.

‘So - your place or mine, sweetheart?’

Note: Thank you for this request @pedroacrossthestreet! It was so fun to revisit Hallow'seams, and I absolutely had to have Tommy walk in on them, you know that man would give Joel shit for months to come 😉

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the divider.

[ijustwant2write]

Reunion Of Sorts-Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader

(GIF credit to @mrsbridgerton)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi! If your requests are open I'd love to request an Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader where the reader's Simon's sister. Prompts 14 and 15 please? Thank you so much, your works are amazing!’

14) 'It's only good news depending on how you look at it.'

15) 'I just wouldn't have expected this!'

Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader, Simon Basset x Basset!Reader (siblings), Daphne Bridgerton x Reader (platonic), mentions of Bridgerton family

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Just extreme fluff!

                                            *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you quite alright, (Y/N)?" Simon asked his sister as they journeyed in their carriage.

(Y/N) had started fanning herself a little faster."I don't know why I'm so nervous. I just hope to make a good impression."

"Of course you will. I'm sorry you haven't met them sooner."

"I could have at least met your wife at the wedding, if I had been invited."

"We have been through this, (Y/N)."

"Yes, and I'm not trying to argue with you, Simon. I know you married in haste, and I know why, but you must admit, you've left this far too long. You have a son now!"

"You have been cooped up in that house with your matron as father intended. I think she would have had my head if I tried to get you out of there."

They laughed together.

"Simon?"

"Hm?"

"I am very excited to meet your wife and my nephew."

As usual, the Bridgerton house was abuzz with excitement and chaos. Eloise didn't understand why she had to dress up so much for this visit, Gregory and Hyacinth were bombarding everyone with questions about Simon's sister, Colin and Benedict tried but failed to escape the madness, Anthony watched everything unfold and Daphne nervously bounced her baby boy on her knee.

"Daphne, do not fret. His sister will love you." Anthony tried to reassure his sister.

"What if she's like their father? What if she heard all the rumours about us and judges me for it? Simon has never spoken of her, I have no idea what to expect."

"I met Simon's sister many, many years ago. She was nothing like the things you are dreading. (Y/N) was a lovely, respectable young lady, I'm sure she hasn't changed."

Daphne let a small smile grace her face, trying to convince herself that everything was fine. Simon had kept his family such a secret, she just wanted to ensure that his sister would want to stay and be part of theirs.

Simon playfully rolled his eyes as (Y/N) asked how she looked, not in vain, but in anxiety. Her dress was beautiful, her hair perfectly in place, her jewels glistened but they weren't ghastly, nothing was wrong. Her nerves were getting the better of her. Just as she was about to ask again, the carriage stopped. Simon chuckled at her panicked look, already stepping outside.

He held out his hand for her."You'll be absolutely fine. Just be you."

(Y/N) took a deep breath before taking her brother's hand, being extra cautious to not fall on her face, especially since the entire Bridgerton family were stood on their front steps.

As head of the household, Anthony was ready to start introductions, until (Y/N) lifted her head, showing her dazzling features. He had only admitted to himself that he had a fancy for her when he was younger, though who wouldn't? She was beautiful, smart and didn't try hard to impress anyone; she was just joyful to be around. (Y/N) had never pined for Anthony or tried to grab his attention at every moment, or any man for that matter. He definitely considered her a friend, he was somewhat angry at himself he hadn't written to her over the years. But seeing her now, it was a mystery as to why she hadn't been married yet? That was quickly solved when he remembered Simon was her brother.

Simon stuck beside his sister until Daphne stepped forward. They shared a short but loving kiss, before Simon took their son into his arms, cooing and laughing as the baby gurgled. (Y/N)'s heart melted at the sight.

"Oh, how we've missed you." Violet beamed, greeting her son-in-law.

"I apologise for the delay, the weather was not suitable for travelling. Nevertheless, everyone, this is my sister, (Y/N) Basset."

(Y/N) curtsied as all eyes were on her."Thank you for welcoming me into your beautiful home. I have been so excited to meet you all."

"Well, why don't we go inside? We can have proper introductions in the warm." Daphne hid her nerves, presenting herself well.

Everyone agreed, leading (Y/N) inside. The family lined up like soldiers, with Anthony stepping forward to introduce everyone.

"I hope I don't have to reintroduce myself." he teased.

"Of course not, how could I forget you, Anthony? After all the trouble you and Simon got into?"

He chuckled, but cast a worried look towards his mother. He quickly continued.

"My mother, Violet, sisters Daphne, Eloise and Hyacinth, and my brothers, Benedict, Colin and Gregory."

"And your nephew." Simon added.

(Y/N) reached out a finger for the baby to hold."Yes, he's bigger than I thought he would be."

"Children do grow so fast." Violet said.

"But you're here now to see him grow." Daphne quickly added. "And we're all very happy that you're finally here."

Everyone knew that it was Simon who had kept (Y/N) away. He loved his sister with all his heart, which is why he never saw her; she was living a happy life, he didn't want to dampen that.

"The chefs have prepared a marvelous lunch. The table is all set if you are hungry now?" Voilet asked.

"Oh, yes, as long as everyone else is."

As soon as (Y/N) agreed, Colin, Eloise and the two youngest were off. They were starving, even though they had eaten only a few hours ago. (Y/N) giggled to the relief of the others. They slowly followed behind, but Simon was hesitant. (Y/N) gently nudged him forward.

"Go, see your family. I have all the time in the world to get to know Daphne."

Simon thanked her, still carrying his son as his other arm wrapped around his wife. Another arm appeared in front of (Y/N), ready for her to take it.

"May I escort you to the table?" Anthony said.

"Thank you, I much appreciate it."

They both knew they were being dramatic, though it was sweet of Anthony to make the gesture.

"How many years has it been?"

"Too many."

"I'm sorry your brother hasn't involved you. If the...situation between him and Daphne had been different, I know you would have been here straight away."

"I know. And I understand how stressful that all was. But as said before, I'm here now. I must say Anthony, I have missed you."

"Really? Even after all those times Simon and I riled you?"

"Yes. Although annoying, you both had your tender moments. I remember one evening, you and Simon were returning from your club, and you both had found yourselves in a quarrel with some other members. They followed you home, and I was waiting by the back gate to sneak you back inside. They were closer than expected, and do you remember some of the horrible things they said to me?"

"Unfortunately I do. And I unfortunately remember what happened next."

"It was very chivalrous for you to defend me, though you needn't have fought. Your nose wouldn't stop bleeding!"

"But you were right by my side, holding a handkerchief for me."

"Yes, because if you got blood on the carpets, you would have something worse than a bruised nose."

The pair were laughing to themselves as they walked into the dining room. Most were already seated. Anthony guided (Y/N) to her chair, next to Simon, who stood to tuck it in, but Anthony beat him to it. Simon watched his friend's moves very closely, knowing deep down that Anthony was just being polite; however, he wasn't too fond that they were sat opposite each other, able to gaze into each others eyes.

Simon tapped his glass with a knife once everyone was sat, standing with said glass in his hand."Before we begin eating, I would like to propose a toast."

Everyone immediately grabbed their own glasses, except Eloise, taking her time as she huffed; couldn't they at least toast after the meal?

"To my sister, (Y/N). I am so happy that you're here with me, with us. I'm sorry I haven't been a better brother but that will change now. And I can't wait for you to get to know this loving family, who made me one of their own, as I know they will you."

"To family." Benedict finished.

"To family." Everyone cheered.

"Now the food. Please." Eloise needed a plate in front of her.

All through lunch, Simon kept a close eye on his sister and Anthony. He was awful at keeping up with conversations, slow at eating, he just had a weird feeling when he glanced at them both. Simon constantly apologised to Daphne, blaming the long journey for his daydreaming.

However, Anthony and (Y/N) might as well have been dining at their own table. They were in full conversation, of course others chimed in to join, but they couldn't stop reflecting on the past and laughing. It was impossible to not notice how well they were getting along, and Violet had a glint in her eye as she saw how much Anthony was smiling. He never smiled this much, and the way he was looking at (Y/N) reminded her of how her husband used to look at her.

After dinner, they retired to the drawing room, sipping on fresh lemonade as Hyacinth showed off her new skill on the piano. Simon sat with his child in his lap, Daphne by his side, and although he was thoroughly enjoying the time with his family, he couldn't stop gazing over at his sister.

Unsurprisingly, (Y/N) and Anthony were cosied up, still smiling ear to ear as they continued talking. How could they have so much to talk about?

"Let's put him to bed Simon, for a nap. He's getting fussy." Daphne interrupted his thoughts.

Simon didn't want to cause a scene, agreeing to put their son down together. Even as they left the room, Simon's eyes lingered, and he immediately became tense once they were out of sight.

"Has my brother dazzled you?"

Simon was quiet as he laid down his son."Hm?"

"Well you haven't stopped staring at him all night."

He sighed."Was I that obvious?"

"You were indeed. Would it be so bad?"

"What?"

"Would it be so bad if my brother loved your sister?"

"Daphne-"

"Has he been disrespectful? Has he done her wrong? Has he done anything that we did?"

He was stumped. Although his brotherly instincts were kicking in, wanting to protect (Y/N), realistically he knew Anthony would never hurt her. Anthony was trustworthy, he knew him inside out and just from tonight, there was something there.

Simon didn't reply, but Daphne knew he wasn't ignoring her. She could see him thinking it all over as he walked to the window.

"It's only good news depending on how you look at it."

"I know, but it will be fine-"

"No, look!"

Daphne quickly joined her husband at the window, trying to see what he was looking at. Down in the gardens was Anthony and (Y/N) taking a stroll. The pair were lit by the setting sun which was casting a beautiful orange and pink glow across the garden. Although they had not stopped talking through the afternoon, now they were silent, both silently worrying that the other had no more to say.

"(Y/N)-"

"Anthony-"

The spoke at the same time, pausing for a moment before laughing. Anthony said nothing, being a gentleman and letting (Y/N) speak.

"I was just going to say how much I have enjoyed our time together. It feels as if no time has passed since the last time I saw you."

"How long will you stay?"

"Sorry?"

"Well, are you staying for a short visit? Or perhaps an extended time?"

"Simon and I have not discussed that as of yet. I am to be staying with a friend of mine who lives in the Ton, so I shall be here for a little while."

Anthony couldn't help but smile."Good, that is good news."

They were quiet again as they continued walking, only taking small steps as they wee nearing the end of the garden. They were standing close to one another, and although they had linked arms before and been sat on the plush sofas, this held more tension. Perhaps it was the way neither of them wanted to startle the other, despite their desperate want for affection. As their minds drifted off to where this was leading, their hands ever so delicately brushed. Both were startled, halting their steps and looking at each other.

"My apologies-"

"Anthony, it's fine. I...I just wouldn't have expected this."

Anthony thought for a moment, glancing down at their hands that were no longer close. He didn't like it. He wanted to be bold and take the next step, even if it was just holding one another's hand. But this was Simon Basset's sister. And it was (Y/N), who he had the upmost respect for.

"Miss Basset?"

"Anthony, why are you calling me that?"

"May I enquire into the address of your new lodgings?"

"Yes? Why?"

"So that I may call on you in the morning?"

[alotofpockets]

Saved you a seat

Pairing: Alessia Russo x Engwnt!Reader

Prompt: “I saved you a seat.”

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | words: 1k

You had joined Manchester United the same time that Alessia Russo had left the club, meaning you never got the chance to properly meet the woman. She was an amazing player, so you were sad to hear that she was leaving the team as you joined but you knew you would meet her soon enough, having been called up for your first national camp starting in about a month. 

While you were finding your place within the team, getting to know your new teammates, you noticed that Ella seemed a bit off. You knew that her and Alessia were best friends, and noticed that her leaving the club was hard on her. You tried supporting Ella as best as you could, even being able to help her through some tough moments, the two of you quickly became friends through everything.

It was actually Ella that had introduced you to Alessia when you were playing her new club, Arsenal, back in October. An introduction that led to you falling for the Arsenal player, much to Ella’s enjoyment, claiming that her introducing the both of you to each other was the leading cause of Alessia now being your girlfriend. You couldn’t disagree because she was in fact the one introducing you, as well as the person that was nudging the both of you to confess your crushes to the other. Ella was like the number one fan of your relationship.

Both your Manchester United teammates and her Arsenal ones were aware of your relationship, as well as your new teammates at the Lionesses. A journey you couldn’t be more excited about, now being able to share it with your girlfriend, and your friends. Besides your teammates, and family knowing about your relationship, you decided to keep the relationship private. Both you and Alessia knew all too well how the media and fans could be. 

You had just placed your bags in the coach, about to head to your next match. When you walk into the coach your eyes meet Alessia’s sparkling ones, “I saved you a seat.” She says with her signature smile. “Aw, thank you baby, I appreciate it. Are you sure you don’t want to sit with Tooney, though? I know you two always sit together.” She shakes her head, “We talked about it. So, yes, I am sure.” You look around the coach for Ella, who gives you two thumbs up at your questioning look. 

Like at every match, the England media team was waiting outside of the coach to film your arrival. You and Alessia both wave to the camera’s and of course to the fans further back as well, before heading into the stadium, getting ready for the match with the team. 

Ever since Alessia made the move to Arsenal, the fans have been speculating about some big fall out between her and Ella. Reading too much into every little situation. At first they were concerned for Ella when they, like yourself, noticed she wasn’t looking her usual self but their concern quickly turned into wild speculations claiming something had happened and the two were no longer friends. It had all started up again when England camp started, according to the fans the women weren’t spending as much time together, they weren’t laughing together, or not looking at each other enough. You thought it was annoying how people were assuming so much, when you knew from first hand experience that they were still very much friends. They continued to share a room during the camps, and you spend almost every night watching movies with the both of them. 

After the game you decide to relax a bit and scroll on your phone, you were tagged in the Instagram post by the Lionesses of the arrival at the stadium, and some other pictures. You add them to your story, and start reading some of the comments. Comments like, They’re not even sitting on the bus together anymore, Another game without any interaction between Lessi and Tooney, and your favorite How are Ella and Lessi both friends with y/l/n but not with each other? filled our screen. You roll your eyes at the growing pile of comments before you head out to find both Alessia and Ella, to show the comments to them. 

“I don’t know about you guys but I am kind of done with all of this.” Ella shared with the both of you. “Yeah, this is getting rather frustrating.” Alessia joined in. “Alright, I have an idea. Y/n, can you please take a picture of me and Lessi?” They pose in front of the Christmas tree in the stadium hallway. Ella starts typing away and shows the final result ‘Rumours are true … we are no longer friends xxx’ before posting it to her story. The three of you have a laugh at the post before heading back to the coach. 

When you get back you turn to Alessia, “Hey, before you head back home, wanna have a movie night at my place? Ella included of course.” Alessia smiles, “I would love to, I’d never turn away an opportunity to hang with my two favorite girls. Back at your place the three of you change into some comfy wear and plop down on the couch with a bunch of snacks. Celebrating your win with a fun night. 

Alessia loved the picture that she took of the three of your sharing a blanket during movie night. She wanted to post it but also thought maybe it would be too much with the story post from Ella yesterday. “Baby, I think you should post whatever you want and try to not let the fans get into your head.” Ella nods along, “Yeah, I agree fully. Just post it, it’s a cute picture.” The both of you were able to convince Alessia to post the picture. “Okay but tomorrow then. I want them to enjoy Tooney’s message first.”

The next day you smile at your phone when the notification of Alessia’s post shows up on your phone. It was the picture with the three of you along with the caption ‘Movie night with my favorite girls’.

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[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | explicit | 7.1k | tags: Modern AU, Sex Worker Steve, Virgin Eddie, PWP, Sub Eddie/Soft Dom Steve | written for @subeddieweek | AO3 or complete fic under the cut)

As Steve waited in an impersonal hotel room for his new client to arrive, things began to feel a little off.

In truth, the term "client" there was somewhat unconventional. Three guys had hired him to surprise their friend Eddie on his birthday.

Just moments ago, Steve had received a text message from the guys telling him that they were about to bring Eddie to this very room under the guise of getting his present. What Eddie didn't know was that Steve was going to be that present.

One of the trio, a younger man named Garrett or Gareth, had only half-jokingly suggested that Steve should greet Eddie wearing nothing but a bow around his dick. Thankfully, the others had vetoed the idea, calling it cheesy and lame and saying it would only scare Eddie off. Steve couldn't help but feel a little offended by that because the last time his dick had frightened someone away had been in high school. He had been her first and she had been too intimidated by his size. Other than that, he had never had any complaints, thank you very much.

He hadn't talked to them directly when they had asked for his services; that was Robin's domain. She handled the initial negotiations, background checks, and vetting of potential clients before Steve even learned of their existence. Trusting Robin's judgment, he assumed these men were legitimate. Yet, there was something off about the whole situation.

Their lack of experience with this kind of thing was evident, demonstrated by their inquiry about kissing etiquette like this was Pretty Woman ("you have to tell Eddie if kissing is not okay dude") and their less-than-tactful remarks. When Steve had entered the hotel room, one of them, whom they had referred to as Freak, had made a comment about Steve certainly not being Eddie’s type, prompting Garrett/Gareth to reply "Nah, he secretly likes those pretty frat boy types, he'd just never admit it".

But it had been the quiet, earnest demeanor of Jeff, the third man, that had given Steve pause. Jeff had pulled him aside with a solemn plea to be careful with Eddie.

"Hey, man, you seem like a nice guy, and your manager Robin assured us that you'd take good care of Eddie. Just. Be gentle with him. He acts tough sometimes, but he deserves someone to be sweet to him, okay?"

Steve had just nodded dumbly, thrown by the unusual request. Most of the time his clients booked him directly, and while some had asked him to fuck them soft and slow, Jeff's request had sounded different to him. As if there was something they weren’t telling him about this Eddie.

Perhaps the guy had been hurt before, scarred by a past relationship, and now he approached any kind of intimacy with trepidation. Steve had had a few women hire him to help them get over something like that, so it wasn’t totally unheard of. No men had, but then again, he had only been offering his services to men for a few months, so maybe Eddie was just the first of his male clients with these kind of issues.

If Eddie was indeed struggling with past hurts, then Steve was determined to make him feel cherished and desired once again.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the sound of voices growing louder outside.

Fuck, Steve thought startled. Even though he had been waiting for them, it still came as a surprise that they were already there. One for which he felt completely unprepared, because it was only then that he began to think about how to position himself.

"I don't know why you couldn't just give it to me later or tomorrow, guys," someone said with amusement just outside the door. That must have been Eddie, he thought, and found that he liked his voice.

The next voice was Garrett/Gareth's. "Believe us, Eds, you want it now. Come on, hurry up."

"Okay, okay, fine. Since when are you more excited about me getting presents than I am?"

Steve opted for simplicity and decided to sit on the bed, leaning back with his hands behind him. It was casual and easy, but also showed off the long line of his body.

The sound of someone inserting their key card into the slot was followed by the handle being pushed down. Then the door to the room opened, revealing the lucky guy who would have him for the next two hours.

He’s pretty, was the first thing that came to Steve’s mind. Tall and slender, with a small waist and very nice arms decorated in black ink. Most stunning, however, was his face. The pale skin was a tantalizing contrast to his pink lips, dark hair framing high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that looked at him like a deer in the headlights.

Then, the door closed with a bang.

“Guys? There’s some dude sitting on my bed, you might wanna call security. I’ll hold down the door but you gotta hurry.” Eddie’s voice trembled slightly and Steve was torn between worry and amusement.

Faintly he heard the other men laughing and Eddie's indignant squeak. "What the hell are you laughing at? There`s a crazy stalker in my room! Probably armed and dangerous!"

"Oh yeah, I bet he has a big gun," Garrett/Gareth snorted, and Steve rolled his eyes at the very obvious, very bad joke. The guy probably thought he was really funny.

Eddie seemed to agree with Steve, even if unknowingly. "Har-bloody-har. Jeff, c'mon, tell me you at least take this seriously!"

This was one of those nights when Steve wished he had been smart enough, or at least ambitious enough to go to college, so he wouldn't have had to make money on the side dealing with shit like this. At least most of his clients were easier to deal with, if not as easy on the eyes as this Eddie.

"Eddie, trust me, you can open the door. He's harmless."

"How do you know?"

"Because he's your birthday present!" Freak interrupted, clearly losing patience. "Gareth's right, we should have just made him put a bow on his dick and be done with it. At least then we wouldn't be standing here arguing."

Steve wondered if they knew he could hear every word they were saying. Like everyone else in the surrounding rooms, because they weren’t exactly quiet. He just hoped nobody called the cops.

"He's... What the fuck? You can't just give someone a person, that's human trafficking!"

Obviously tired of making a scene outside a hotel room, Jeff just opened the door and pulled Eddie inside, trusting the others to follow. They did, closing the door behind them, and then they all looked at Steve, who was still sitting on the bed, regretting all his life choices that had led him there.

He gave a little wave with his fingers. "Surprise."

Eddie blinked at him, speechless, his mouth slightly ajar. Despite the situation, he remained unfairly attractive, his wide eyes stirring something in Steve that he hesitated to explore further. Steve's knowledge of Eddie was limited to his questionable choice of friends, yet he felt an inexplicable urge to shield him from the world, to keep him safe. The urge was unexpected in itself, but even more so in the intensity with which it hit him.

"This is Steve," Gareth introduced, stumbling over his words. "And, uh, well, he... yeah. Guys?" Gareth glanced around, hoping for support from the others, but they remained silent.

With the air of someone who didn’t expect any different, Steve rose from his spot on the bed and approached Eddie. As he stood before him, Steve was enveloped in a mixture of clean body spray, shampoo, and a faint whiff of cigarette smoke. Eddie's eyes, even larger up close, held a warm hue that was quite captivating.

Steve flashed a smile, aiming for a blend of reassurance and flirtation.

"I'm Steve, and for the next two hours, I can be whatever you need," he declared, though technically, twenty minutes had already elapsed. Nevertheless, for Eddie, Steve was willing to make an exception.

Eddie, inexplicably, horrifyingly, burst out laughing before slapping a hand over his own mouth, his eyes even wider than before as they looked at Steve in abject horror.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry. I wasn't laughing at you, it's just this whole situation is so... and then that sounded like... I feel like I stumbled into a porn plot."

Eddie looked embarrassed by his reaction, but Steve had to agree. It all felt a little ridiculous all of a sudden and he thought he could use that to his advantage, to make Eddie feel more comfortable.

"I guess you're not wrong," Steve laughed playfully, rubbing a hand across his neck. "That was a line that could have come out of a bad porno. Let me try again." He took Eddie's hand in his own and gave him a smile, a real one this time. "Hi, I'm Steve, and your friends hired me to be your birthday present. What that means is that I'm here to make sure you have a good time, a great one even. Just tell me what you'd like to do, as long as it's nothing crazy, I'm in. I don't do pain play, nothing that leaves bruises or cuts, no breath play, no hard kink of any kind and no barebacking."

"Oh my God, you are here as a sex gift," Eddie exclaimed way too loudly as Steve finished listing the things he wouldn't do, turning even paler. Steve was so focused on Eddie that he hadn’t even noticed the other men leaving the room, but upon seeing Eddie's shocked reaction, he realized they were already gone.

"I can't believe they hired a sex worker to deflower me. I told them to leave it the fuck alone. God, this is so fucking embarrassing," Eddie whined, burying his face in his hands with a long and anguished groan.

It tugged at Steve's heartstrings, the way Eddie pulled away from him, clearly embarrassed. His first instinct was to pull him into his arms and tell him it was okay, that Steve got him. But Eddie's words continued to ring in his ears as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. Deflower me. As in, he was supposed to take Eddie's virginity. That's why the others had been so weird about it, and why Eddie had been so shocked and clueless when he found him in his room.

Jeff's words came back to him, "be gentle with him" and "he deserves someone to be sweet to him". It wasn't that Eddie was necessarily recovering from past hurts, but that there were no past experiences. Or maybe there had been, and that was why he had never gone all the way. Because looking at him, Steve had a hard time understanding how anyone could not want to sleep with Eddie.

"Eddie," Steve tried gently, "are you...have you ever had sex with anyone?"

Peering at Steve through his fingers, Eddie shook his head.

"Did you, I mean, have you done things like handjobs, blowjobs, anything like that?"

Another anguished groan as Eddie shook his head again.

"Making out? Kissing?" Steve had to know what he was working with here, because the last thing he wanted was to do something Eddie wasn't ready for.

This at least made Eddie lower his hands so that Steve could see the expression on his face. He looked even more embarrassed, his flushed cheeks red, but there was some indignation in his eyes. "I've kissed before. And made out with someone. Well, above the waist. And fully clothed. But it still counts!"

Eddie's voice sounded almost pleading and it left Steve aching for him. He had no idea why someone as gorgeous as Eddie hadn't had sex yet, but he knew he shouldn't act like there was something wrong with him because of it.

"Hey, man, it's okay. Really, I'm not judging you," Steve tried to reassure him. He was tempted to reach out and offer some physical comfort as well, but he wasn't sure how welcome that would be as Eddie laughed bitterly at his words.

"Oh, please. I'm judging me! I'm turning 30 today and no one's even touched my dick. I'm pathetic."

Steve did reach out to him then, placing a comforting hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Hey, come on now. There's nothing pathetic about it. Everyone's journey is different, and there's no rush."

Eddie sighed, his shoulders slumping under Steve's touch. "Easy for you to say. You've probably had more action than you can count."

Steve chuckled softly. "Maybe, but that doesn’t mean anything. Quality over quantity, right?"

Eddie gave him a weak smile, but the tension in his expression remained. "I just feel like I missed out on something, you know? I grew up in a small and even more small-minded town in Indiana where it was impossible to find another gay kid without risking getting beaten up or worse. They had it out for me anyway because...well, it doesn't matter. By the time I finally left and moved to Chicago, I was 21 and hadn't even kissed anyone except Lisa Green in eighth grade, which only confirmed what I already suspected. I made out with a few guys in clubs and bars here, but it always felt... wrong. I didn't need to be romanced or anything, but I just... I wanted to feel some kind of connection, y'know? But anyone who wanted to date me, I was too scared to tell them that I had no experience whatsoever, too in my head about it. And before I know it, I'm 30 years old and my friends are hiring an incredibly hot guy to pity-fuck me."

Steve nodded sympathetically. "It's not a pity fuck, Eddie. But I get it. Just, believe me, sex isn't everything. And it's definitely not a measure of your worth."

Eddie let out a bitter laugh. "Tell that to my libido."

Steve couldn't help but laugh along with him. "Fair point. But seriously, Eddie, there's nothing wrong with taking your time. When the right moment comes along, you'll know.”

With an expression of utter defeat, Eddie mumbled. “Figured not even someone getting paid for it would want to sleep with me.” Then, he turned around and walked over to the door. “I’m sorry I wasted your time, Steve. Thank you for being so nice.”

“Whoa, wait a second. I never said I don’t wanna sleep with you. I just assumed, y’know, that you’d want to wait for the right guy.”

Eddie looked like a kicked puppy. “It’s fine Steve, I understand. There’s nothing sexy about a 30 year old virgin, you don’t have to lie.” Then, hanging his head, he pulled his shoulders up to his ears and put his hands in his pockets, making himself as small as humanly possible while still standing.

Steve couldn't stand to see Eddie so down on himself any longer, so he decided to show him exactly how much he wanted to sleep with him by simply pulling his shirt over his head, leaving him naked from the waist up. Then he reached down, unzipped his pants and stepped out of them as well, so that he was standing in front of Eddie in nothing but his underwear. He hoped to make himself at least a quarter as vulnerable as Eddie must have felt at that moment.

"Eddie, please look at me." When Eddie did, his eyes roamed over Steve's body as if he couldn't help himself, and Steve felt their gaze like a physical touch. He was accustomed to people looking at him with hunger and desire, and while Eddie's face showed signs of both, there was something else in his expression—a hint of longing, if Steve were pressed to put a name to it.

As the seconds ticked by, Steve wondered if Eddie would ever grow tired of drinking him in, since he showed no signs of being done anytime soon. But Steve began to suspect that maybe Eddie wasn't doing anything else because he didn't know what or how, so Steve had to take the lead here.

Closing the distance between them, he took Eddie's hands again, but this time he didn't hold them; he placed them on his hips. "You can touch me, Eddie. I want you to. I want you. So if you want me too, all you have to do is tell me." When Eddie continued to look at him wide-eyed, Steve asked him in his softest, most encouraging voice, "What do you want, Eddie?"

"I don't know." Eddie's hands on his hips trembled slightly, but his grip tightened, thumbs running up and down Steve's flanks. "You. Whatever you want."

Well, that was easy. "I want to make you feel good. Can I?"

"Please."

No one had ever looked at Steve the way Eddie did at that moment. It was as if Steve was the last drop of water in the desert—not like he wanted Steve, but like he needed him.

Steve cupped his face in his hands and pulled him close, whispering in the infinitesimal space between them, "I got you, baby," before sealing their lips in a tender kiss.

True to his words, Eddie kissed him back as if he had kissed people before, even if not very often. His lips still moved a little awkwardly against Steve's, but what he lacked in experience he made up for in feeling. Not even his actual girlfriends had ever kissed him the way Eddie was kissing him right now - like he couldn't believe he was allowed to do it, wavering between greedy hunger and grateful adoration that made Steve's head spin.

As they kissed, Steve felt a rush of warmth flood through him, a sensation he hadn't experienced in a long time. It was more than just physical attraction; there were the first stirrings of an emotional connection forming between them, one that felt utterly inappropriate within the confines of their current situation.

On the other hand, Steve reasoned with himself, Eddie deserved someone who would be sweet to him, as Jeff had put it. Given how he was starting to feel about Eddie, that wasn't going to be a challenge at all.

Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Steve rested his forehead against Eddie's, their breaths mingling in the space between them. "You're amazing, Eddie," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink and he smiled shyly. "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

Steve chuckled softly, a warmth spreading in his chest at Eddie's response. "What do you say we take this to the bed?"

Eddie nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Good," Steve said, taking Eddie by the hips as well and beginning to slowly walk them backwards, their eyes never leaving each other's.

As they made their way to the bed, Steve's heart pounded with anticipation. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was a pivotal moment, one that could change everything for him.

Once they reached the bed, Steve gently guided Eddie to sit down, their knees touching as they faced each other. The air between them crackled with tension, charged with the promise of what was to come.

Steve took Eddie's hands in his own, his touch gentle yet firm. "Eddie, I want you to know that we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," he said softly, wanting to reassure him.

Eddie met his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and desire. "I trust you, Steve," he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. Steve had no idea how Eddie could trust him so easily after just meeting him, but he vowed to do right by him and not betray the trust placed in him.

With a gentle smile, Steve leaned in to kiss Eddie again, his lips meeting Eddie's with a tender urgency. This time Steve took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into the wet heat of Eddie's mouth, gently coaxing Eddie to join him in exploring each other.

The first tentative touch of Eddie's tongue to his own sent sparks of electricity through him and he would have been embarrassed by the moan that fell from his lips had it not been for the almost violent shudder that went through Eddie at the simple touch. When their lips parted, Steve glanced at the other man and found him looking tense, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs, and suddenly his reaction made sense.

"Baby, you can touch me. Don't hold back, I want you to show me how good I make you feel."

Closing his eyes with a pained expression, Eddie sighed deeply, defeated. "I feel like I don't know how. I don't want to mess it up. I mean, you must be used to incredible sex and then there's me, probably accidentally pinching you or something."

"Eddie," Steve said, wrapping his own hands around Eddie's clenched ones, "I'm sorry to break it to you, but you'll never learn if you don't try. It's like riding a bike. You can't learn it in theory, you have to get on it and ride it." And because Steve worried that might have been a little harsh, he added: "I'm your training wheels, and after tonight you can upgrade to a bike without them." Uncurling Eddie's hands and intertwining their fingers, Steve nudged their shoulders together. "Soooo. Wanna go for a ride?"

Eddie's lips twitched into a small smile at Steve's analogy, and some of the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders. "Okay, maybe I can give it a try," he said, his voice uncertain but determined.

Steve couldn't help but admire Eddie's bravery in the face of his own insecurities. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Eddie's forehead, offering silent encouragement.

With a deep breath, Eddie tentatively began to explore Steve's body, his touch hesitant yet eager. Steve guided him with soft murmurs of encouragement, reassuring him every step of the way.

At some point, Steve shifted back onto the bed and lay down on the sheets, offering more of himself to Eddie's curious hands. They were especially drawn to his chest, scratching the thick hair, and when Steve made an appreciative sound, Eddie let them wander to Steve's nipples.

"Start slow, run your thumb over them." Eddie did as Steve told him, and Steve noticed how every encouragement from him seemed to hit Eddie with another wave of arousal. His eyes darkened even more after Steve told him, "Just like that, baby. You're doing so good, learning so fast. Now try adding some spit so your thumb glides easier."

Eddie had been eagerly and obediently following his instructions the whole time, so Steve wasn't surprised when he immediately went to put Steve's latest order into action. What he didn't expect, however, was that Eddie would simply put his mouth on his nipple instead of wetting his thumb with it.

"Fuck," he moaned, his hands digging into Eddie's hair without his conscious decision, desperately trying to keep his mouth on his chest. "So good for me, such a good boy, just like that."

His words only spurred Eddie on, who moaned needily at his words, and as his confidence grew, so did his boldness. Steve felt the first tentative touch of teeth against his skin, setting his nerves on fire, and he encouraged Eddie to keep going by tugging at his curls. "Harder, baby."

Being the wonderful, beautiful, good boy that he was, Eddie went harder, his teeth making sure to leave marks on his chest. It was an intoxicating feeling to be laid out here, almost naked, while Eddie was still fully clothed, and yet it was Steve who was in control.

So far he had been able to ignore his cock, hard and heavy and leaking into his trunks. But it was getting harder and harder, pun intended, to keep his need for relief in check. It wasn't often that a client made him feel like he was about to lose his mind with lust, but Eddie was shaping up to be his exception in so many ways.

"Baby, you're incredible. I'm so hard for you, I need you to touch me or I'll lose my goddamn mind."

That finally gave Eddie pause. Pulling back from his mission to cover every inch of Steve's chest in bruises and bite marks, he lifted his head and looked down at where Steve's hard cock was obscenely tenting his trunks.

Watching Eddie wet his lips with his tongue, Steve decided to take a chance. "Can you take them off for me, darling? They're getting awfully uncomfortable."

That startled Eddie out of his silent reverie, his big brown eyes, which had captivated Steve from the start, turning to him. "You mean..."

"Only if you want to. We're not doing anything you're not ready for," Steve made sure to reassure him once again that while Steve was taking the lead here, Eddie was the one calling the shots. If he told him to stop, Steve would, no questions asked. "But if you're afraid of getting it wrong, I want you to know that nothing has ever felt as right as your hands and mouth on me. You couldn't get it wrong if you tried, baby."

It seemed to be just the right thing to say because Eddie leaned down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss, his weight balanced on his forearm next to Steve's head. His hand, still resting on Steve's chest, began to move again, fingertips dancing across his ribs and down his stomach until they reached their destination just above his waistband.

Eddie had moved to lie more comfortably next to Steve when he had let his hands and mouth map Steve's body, but now he positioned himself next to Steve's knees.

He looked up at Steve as his fingers curled around the waistband of his trunks, and tougher men than Steve would have had a hard time not falling in love with him right then and there. His lips, still slick with spit from their kiss, were slightly parted while his bottomless eyes looked at Steve with something akin to worship. Steve's fingers had done a great job of making his dark curls look even messier, and he was almost as proud of that as he was of the red flush that adorned Eddie's throat and cheeks.

"Do it," he order-pleaded, and Eddie listened as he had all night, pulling down Steve’s last piece of clothing and throwing it on the floor next to the bed.

The expression on his face was almost comical, breaking the thick tension in the room for a moment. Steve knew he wasn't exactly small. Not even average, but it had been a while since anyone had stared at his dick like it was a venomous snake.

"It won't bite you, I promise," he joked as the silence between them stretched on.

That at least got a snort out of Eddie, even if his eyes were still glued to his hard and leaking cock, which didn't seem to mind being stared at with a mixture of apprehension and wonder.

"I know that. It's just..." Eddie began before trailing off.

A thought occurred to Steve. "You've seen a dick before, right?"

In retrospect it might have been a bit insulting and a lot stupid to ask, but then again this wasn't exactly his area of expertise.

"Yes, Steve. Besides my own, I've seen dicks. Just not... y'know... a monster dick like that. I mean, fuck. Are you sure this thing will even fit?"

His first reaction was to laugh, because Eddie was funny and adorable in his incredulity, but the laughter died rather quickly as the rest of his words registered with Steve.

"Fit? As in - do you want me to fuck you?"

That finally made Eddie blink up at him, tilting his head like a confused puppy. "Um, yeah? I thought that was the plan all along."

It wasn't. Steve thought he'd show Eddie the ropes, how to handle another body, so he could experience his first time with someone he genuinely cared about. Not that Steve had that when he lost his virginity, but he thought Eddie deserved it.

But if Eddie was sure, Steve was more than happy to oblige. "Just checking in. And don't worry. It'll fit. It always has, it just takes a little patience and a lot of lube." When Eddie still looked a little doubtful, he added, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." No hesitation, and that made the dangerous feeling in his chest glow brighter.

"Good, that makes it even easier. You need to be comfortable, relaxed. The more you can let go, the easier it will be."

Eddie nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "Okay, Steve. You're the expert. I trust you. Just. Remember, I have no idea what I'm doing, okay?"

Steve sat up and cupped Eddie's cheek in his hand. "I know, and I'll take good care of you, I promise," Steve promised, sealing it with a kiss.

After they parted, he tugged at Eddie's shirt. "You're awfully overdressed, sweetheart. Mind if I help you get out of these?"

With Eddie's consent, Steve undresses him, slowly, reverently. He removed each piece of clothing with the same care as he would handle a precious gem, his hands gentle, making sure to appreciate every inch of skin that was revealed to him. And after his hands have had their fill, his mouth follows, his lips branding his ownership in invisible writing all over Eddie's body.

He paid special attention to Eddie's tattoos, and when he found the nipple piercings, Steve's brain short-circuited. He only stopped playing with them when Eddie was writhing and whimpering from the stimulation, his arousal clear in the way sweat slicked his skin and the outline of his hard cock was visible through his skin-tight jeans.

"Steve, please," he begged, and Steve was pretty sure Eddie didn't even know for what.

"Shh, I got you, baby," Steve had cooed in reply before continuing his mission to get Eddie naked and under him.

Soon the positions were reversed and Eddie was spread out on the bed, naked and wanting, while Steve was kneeling beside him, his hand stroking Eddie's thigh soothingly as he drank him in.

"Fuck, Eddie, I wish you could see yourself right now. You're so fucking beautiful, the prettiest thing I've ever seen. I can't believe you let me have you."

Eddie squirmed, clearly turned on but still self-conscious. Steve vowed to make the latter go away and replace it with nothing but mindless pleasure, helping Eddie let go and float on all the good feelings Steve would make him feel.

He had gotten the lube and a condom out of his bag while Eddie had made himself comfortable, placing them both next to them on the bed. Now he spread some lube on his fingers and warmed it up as he moved to climb between Eddie's legs. His own cock had gone back to half hard, but showed some renewed interest when Eddie immediately spread his legs wider to make room for him.

"Such a good boy, you're just perfect, you know that?"

Then Steve rewarded his good boy with the first finger in his virgin whole. He didn't want it to matter, and it didn't, not in the way Eddie thought it would. But the thought that he was the first to see Eddie like that, to feel him clench around the foreign intrusion before slowly, gradually relaxing as Steve continued to stroke the inside of his thigh with his other hand? It all made more heat pool in his groin, his cock full and heavy again between his own legs.

"That's it," Steve encouraged him as his finger sank in to his knuckle, " taking it so well. How does it feel, baby?"

"Weird," Eddie said truthfully, before wriggling his hips. "Full. Not bad, just. Weird."

Steve took that as all the encouragement he needed to start pumping the finger in and out in imitation of what he planned to do to Eddie with his cock. It went easily and soon Eddie was matching his thrusts with his hips. "That's right, take what you need. You look so good fucking yourself on my finger, sweetheart. You'll look even better on my cock."

Judging that Eddie was ready for a second finger, he leaned forward and softly called for Eddie to look at him. When he did, lifting his head from where he had pressed it into the pillow, Steve caught his eyes and held them as he slowly closed his lips around Eddie's hard cock, taking it into his mouth inch by delicious inch.

It worked like a charm as Eddie was too busy throwing his head back with a broken moan to even notice Steve adding another finger. It was only when he started pumping both fingers in and out while still licking and sucking on Eddie's cock like his favorite ice cream that Eddie seemed to notice, tightening around him for a moment before relaxing again.

Steve rewarded him with a clever swirl of his tongue and a well-aimed crook of his fingers that made Eddie scream.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, what the fuck was that," Eddie gasped as Steve pulled off of him with an obscenely wet sound.

With a third finger prodding at Eddie's slick hole, Steve grinned up at him. "Your prostate."

"I thought that was a myth."

"Nope, not a myth. Just hard to reach by yourself."

He took Eddie back into his mouth, his finger persistently nudging at his entrance until it finally slipped in alongside his other two fingers. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eddie balling the sheets in his clenched fists, trying not to thrash around too much. The thought of feeling that around his cock was almost too much, as Eddie was incredibly responsive and Steve had to think of something unpleasant for a second to calm himself.

Steve continued to blow and finger Eddie until he could feel Eddie's cock hardening even more in his mouth, signaling his impending orgasm. His three fingers sank into him like a warm knife into butter, no resistance whatsoever, so Steve considered Eddie ready to try and take his 'monster dick' as he had so eloquently put it earlier.

Eddie's whimper as he pulled his fingers out of his body sounded desperate, and when Steve also pulled off his dick, Eddie was right back to begging.

"Please, Steve, I was so close, so fucking close, I need you, please," he babbled, exactly in that mindless place where only his own pleasure mattered instead of his own insecurities.

In a true display of multi-tasking, Steve managed to stroke Eddie's thigh soothingly while simultaneously ripping the condom wrapper open with his teeth. It was almost a shame that Eddie was so far gone that he didn't even notice.

Next time, Steve thought, immediately chastising himself for getting ahead of himself. There was no guarantee that Eddie would want to go out with the guy his friends had paid to deflower him.

"Shh, baby, almost there, just getting ready to make you feel really good. I can't wait to be inside you, Eddie, you have no idea."

Slicking his condom-covered cock, Steve took a pillow from the bed and placed it under Eddie's hips before wrapping Eddie's right leg around his waist as he positioned himself. Eddie looked up at him with dazed eyes, like he was still floating somewhere, not quite here. And even though Steve wanted him to remain there, he needed Eddie's attention right now.

"Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me, can you do that?" He could tell it was a struggle, but shaking his head like he was clearing cowebs, Eddie came back to him. "Thanks, baby, you're still so good for me, aren't you?" Eddie nodded eagerly and Steve continued. "I need you to be a good boy and do what I tell you. When I push in, I need you to press down on it as if you were trying to push me out. Can you try that?" Another nod, this one firm, determined. "And breathe, baby, deep breaths. I got you, we'll take it as slow as you need."

And with that, Steve began to push in, trusting Eddie to work with him. And he did, beautifully, doing exactly what Steve told him to do. Still, it was clear that it was a lot to take, his cock even thicker and longer than his three fingers. It was slow going, every inch fought for, and by the time Steve was halfway in they were both covered in sweat, so Steve decided to take a short break.

Eddie was having none of it, though, and looked up at him pleadingly. "Steve? Please don't stop. I want you inside."

"But I am already inside," Steve reminded him, as if Eddie had forgotten how he was being impaled on Steve's cock right now.

"More." Reaching out for Steve with his hand, Eddie replied with only one word, but it was enough to make Steve fall forward, inadvertently sinking a little further.

He didn't try to stop again.

Then, finally, blessedly, Steve sank all the way in, Eddie's muscles relaxing enough to let him in entirely. It wasn't his first time, far from it, but it could very well have been from the way it made him feel to be enveloped in Eddie's tight heat. Steve couldn't tell who was looking more starry-eyed, Eddie or him, as they stared at each other in wonder.

"You feel," Steve began, suddenly at a loss for words. "Like nothing I've ever felt before."

"Move," Eddie pleaded in reply, his eyes traitorously bright. "Please, Steve."

Steve could never deny him, not when he begged like that, so he simply kissed Eddie's cheek, his nose, and then his lips as his hips withdrew before sinking back in. Picking up a slow and easy rhythm, Steve began to move and soon Eddie was meeting him thrust for thrust.

They moved together in a slow, sensual dance, each touch and caress igniting a fire within them. Each thrust tore another sound from their throats, muffled by each other's lips, because try as he might, he couldn't stop kissing Eddie. And as they lost themselves in the heat of the moment, Steve knew he wouldn't come back from it unchanged. He already felt a sense of connection unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together, fitting perfectly.

He just hoped that Eddie felt the same, that it wasn't just the magic of firsts that made him gasp and beg and say things that made Steve's heart soar as much as his cock twitch.

"Steve, Steve, Steve," he cried, his voice cracking, "oh God, I never thought...fuck," another moan as Steve hit his prostate once more. "How do people do anything but this?" Eddie marveled as he tightened around Steve, desperately wanting him to press against that wonderful spot inside him. "I never want to leave this bed again, just let you fuck me all day long."

Oh, how much Steve would love that too. To stop himself from saying something crazy like 'yes, please move in with me so we can fuck as often as possible', he reached for Eddie's hand on his hip and intertwined their fingers next to Eddie's head, squeezing his hand instead of spilling all his messy feelings.

The new position had him sinking further down on Eddie, Eddie's hard cock trapped between their bellies and the added friction had him gasping and panting. "Fuck, Steve, I'm so close."

"Yeah, me too, baby. Can you be a good boy and hold on a little longer for me?"

Unable to form any more words, Eddie just nodded. Steve rewarded him with another deep kiss as his hips picked up speed, his thrusting becoming more powerful as he finally allowed himself to chase his own pleasure. He wanted, needed them to come together, and judging by the copious amount of pre-cum smeared against their bellies and the way Eddie's cock kept twitching, Eddie was really close.

As he felt the telltale signs of his own orgasm spreading through him, his balls tightening and the feeling of a coil in his groin being pulled tight enough to snap at any moment, he lowered his face to Eddie's ear, took the lobe between his teeth and tugged at it to get his attention. Then, putting every ounce of heat, lust and desire he felt right now into his voice, he rasped, "Come for me, baby."

Without a hand on him, Eddie came with a sound that burned itself into Steve's memory and would surely haunt his dreams for weeks and months to come.

Overwhelmed by Eddie's sounds as he lost himself in his own pleasure, his hips bucking and grinding, Steve couldn't help but follow him over the edge. When he finally came, it was almost painful in its intensity and he could barely keep himself upright.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to catch his breath, and even longer to pull himself away from Eddie long enough to get rid of the condom and fetch a washcloth from the bathroom to clean the cum from their bellies and chests.

Then he turned off the light, crawled back into bed with Eddie and pulled the covers over them before drawing Eddie into his arms, who went willingly, still suspiciously quiet. Steve would have been more concerned had it not been for the dazed smile on his face, so he decided to let him be for the moment, basking in the afterglow as he continued to stroke Eddie's back.

What felt like hours later, as they lay tangled in each other's arms, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie's temple, feeling a surge of affection and contentment wash over him.

"I'm glad you decided to go for that ride," he whispered, warmth coloring his voice.

Eddie snuggled closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Me too," he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of happiness and wonder.

And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's embrace, Steve knew he had found something truly special in Eddie. Tomorrow he would tell Robin to give the guys their money back because Eddie hadn't been a client from the start. It was way too soon to even think about it, but deep down he hoped that theirs would be the kind of love that was as beautiful and enduring as the stars in the night sky.

[mothwingwritings]

Can we have Ren/Fox (TPOF) and Mc with a child?Long after Fox decided to stay with MC, they both had a daughter (probably not something with consent and a bit of Stockholm syndrome).The daughter asks her mother how she got the scars and this makes MC have memories of post-traumatic stress.

I was so tickled by this ask that I started manically typing out a response for it nearly as soon as I saw it in my ask box (which at this point, was quite some time ago. Forgive me, I am a mess lul). I wrote the whole damn thing in a fit of passion, excited to release it into the world… But ultimately hated it and thought it was garbo, so I scrapped it and tried again. Wrote a second iteration and thought ‘hell yeah, this is it!!! Sick!’, but then I read it AND HATED THAT ONE TOO AAAHHH!!!

I rewrote this… so much…

But I never give up on my dreams, and you shouldn’t either! Persevere! Don’t give up on yourself! Here’s your daily motivation for the day! Keep writing even it makes you cry!!! :D

Anyway, so I wrote this third one, comprised of new stuff and the stuff I actually did like from the first two stabs, and it ended up being the one. Truly it is a Frankenstein of a fic lol. Regardless of all the reworking, I had a lot of fun writing this and enjoyed the prompt very much!!! I I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. :)

I’m sorry if the writing seems a tad too mature for the reader’s daughter in this, writing children isn’t my forte. ^^;

Due to the nature of this fic, IT IS 18+ ONLY!!! Thank you!

WARNINGS: Incessant mentions of abuse of all kinds for reader and mentions of physical abuse for her child!!! Reader is heavily scarred from said abuse and that’s a main theme in this fic so please avoid if that is upsetting to you. Also, though not the main focus, there are multiple mentions of child abuse in this fic, as well a part where reader goes off verbally on her child, so please be mindful of that as well! Other things of note: reader is a parent in this (which you can probably tell by the prev warning lol), reader getting hurt, blood, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, being held against your will/isolation, mentions of noncon, sad family stuff :(

Diminishing rays of afternoon light splayed through the open window of your quaint living room, casting a comforting orange glow over everything they touched. The light gave the environment an ethereal and nostalgic feel, wrapping you in peaceful warmth as the sun sunk lower and lower. The loveseat you occupied was plush and inviting, and a mug of your favorite tea stood at the ready on the small coffee table beside you, steadily cooling with help from the last hurrah of winter blowing in gently from the outside. Besides the slight chill, the wind brought with it the heavy scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a delightful precursor to the oncoming spring.

Relishing the rare moment of serenity, you couldn’t help but wish that all your days could be this lovely.

You smiled down at your daughter who sat perched in your lap, happily flipping through the newest gift she had acquired from her Father- a thick picture book full of bright illustrations highlighting various exotic animals. As it lay sprawled across her tiny lap, her chubby finger pointed out each animal she took an interest in, her high pitched voice chirping away as she explained what she liked about the creatures. She got particularly excited when she spotted the page full of foxes, jabbing at the red one feverishly as she exclaimed “its daddy!”

Spotting the foxes began her down a path of assigning an animal to not just herself, but you as well. She didn’t find it fair that only her father had kin in the animal world, even though you pointed out that she technically did as well by sharing half the man’s blood. Your revelation did little to deter her, she wanted something new, something just for herself, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found her perfect soul animal. So she continued on, scanning each page in earnest until she found a creature that suited her.

She ended up picking a bunny for herself, supplying you with a comprehensive reason as to why she chose it. As she explained in great length, skimping no details, you couldn’t help but hold back laughter. She spoke as if she were a professor teaching a class, and you did your best to keep a straight face as she yammered on with her shoddy reasoning, deep down knowing she only picked a rabbit because of how cute they are.

After she was done waxing poetic about bunnies, she continued scouring the book, coming to a halt once she reached the wild cat section. She stopped with a gasp, beaming up at you as she pressed her finger firmly against one of the images on the page.

“Mommy this one is you!”

Your eyes traveled to the picture she was rapidly tapping, “An African Wildcat, huh?” You smirked down at the little girl in amusement, “Why did you pick that one for me?”

“Because it looks just like you!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It looks like me? How so?”

“It has marks just like you do!”

Her innocuous words sent a chill up your spine. Eying the stripes that crossed the cat’s legs, you felt a great unease begin to overtake your body. Her reasoning was not lost on you, the cats coat did quite resemble the jagged scars that covered nearly every inch of your body, and just like the feline in her book, your limbs were the most prominent location of said ‘markings’. You quickly shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it further. In hopes of moving on from the subject, the outpouring of words that flew from your mouth were jumbled and messy.

“O-oh, I see,” you stuttered, clearing your throat to steady your voice, “well you certainly picked a cute animal for me! Thank you baby, it was a good choice.”

She smiled at you innocently, a gesture that usually made your heart melt with affection. But as her tiny hands moved from the book to your arms, that smile did nothing but fill you with dread, the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this sticky situation hitting you like a brick to the face. 

“Yeah mommy, the kitty’s marks are just like these ones,” her stubby fingers gently traced the old wounds, a look of reverence reflected on her cherubic features. “They make you look like that kitty mommy,” her little voice cooed, “I like them a lot!”

Your muscles constricted at her words, a slight tremor coursing through you as you involuntarily tightened your grip on her. She took note of this, looking up at your strained features with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Don’t be sad mommy,” she spoke assuredly, “I really do like them! I think they are pretty!”

Her words burned you, scorching the inside of your frozen shell of a body, leaving you feeling sickly and discombobulated. The room around you started to spin in a hazy blur, a wave of nausea making you nearly wretch. Your breathing grew erratic as you tried to calm yourself, inwardly repeating that your daughter was just a child, a little girl barely four years of age who had an incredibly limited view of the world. Her words were not meant to upset you. Her opinions were coming from a place of total naivety.

Yet still, the mental assurance did little to help with the extremely uncomfortable position you now founds yourself in. It wasn’t as if this was her first time noticing your scars. She had mentioned them before, her curious mind trying to piece together the reason that her arms appeared different from your own. Each time she brought your old wounds up you couldn’t help but feel flustered, responding with weak explanations and misdirection to try and quickly brush off her questioning.

The marks came from a silly mistake, or a childhood accident, or from a careless moment when mommy should have been paying more attention. It was always excuses on repeat. How many lies had you told her on this topic alone?

But even if they were lies, it beat telling her the truth. You didn’t want to have to explain where the scars on your body actually came from to anyone, let alone a child, and especially not to your own daughter. How could you possibly word it gently, or in a way that she would understand, when you barely understood why you had them yourself? How could you look her in the eye and tell her that these markings were a permanent sign that you had been very, very hurt and that it was her own fathers hands that inflicted the pain?

Reliving the horrific moments that left your body in such a state was overwhelming enough on its own, but to also have to lay bare her father’s sins, relay to her the unsavory proclivities of a man who she idolized and adored, was not something you were keen on doing.

She didn’t know her daddy like you knew him. She was ignorant to the constant state of concern you lived in, unaware of the worries that plagued your mind and kept you up each night. All the troubles of the hell she had been born into were completely lost on the small, carefree girl.

But honestly that was for the best. You had made an unspoken promise the moment she entered your life that you would protect her no matter what. From the day of her birth onward it became your mission to keep her as happy and healthy as possible.

Ren had broken you, but she did not have to suffer the same fate.

At this point in her life, your daughter knew nothing of her daddy’s profession or ‘hobbies’, and you wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible, if not for the rest of her life. You dreaded each time Ren came home from an auction, terrified he may let casually slip too many details about his ‘lively client’ or that he would carelessly step through the door with the stains of his liaisons still littering his clothes. Your daughter was at an age where she was brimming with questions, and she was relentless in getting answers to each question she asked. Everything had to be explained in complete detail for her to be satisfied, drop the subject, and move on. She was a smart little thing, possibly too smart for her own good. You highly doubted a silly joke or wave of the hand would assuage her whirring mind should Ren grow too impetuous in her presence.

And should her questioning become too pesky, you fretted over what Ren’s reaction to it may be. The more you tried to avoid thinking about it the more you seemed to fixate on the topic, pondering just how much goading it would take from your daughter before his temper would rear its ugly head.  You, above anyone, had firsthand experience in just how volatile the man could be, the scars that littered your body a testament to his turbulent emotions and violent outbursts.

Looking back on it now, it’s a wonder you survived any of it at all.

Ren often told you he loved you, each confession spoken through honeyed words that spilled from his lips easily and often.  And while you didn’t doubt those words (you knew better than to, at this point), you also knew his sweet nothings weren’t merely a term of endearment, they also served as your curse. He loved you, but he also loved your fealty to him, your adoration and worship of him and only him. Should you not reciprocate his feelings as quickly or ardently as he expected, the mere thought of whatever punishment he would concoct was enough to send you into a debilitating panic attack.

There were few things he loathed more than when you flinched from his affection or if you exhibited any sign of distress towards his presence, especially after he had spent so many years going above and beyond to provide for you, devote himself to you. You had learned early on to keel any feelings of aversion you had to his advances, several of your more prominent scars a brutal reminder of that misstep alone.

 If your daughter uncovered the truth and saw her father for who he truly was, if she began to fear him the way you feared him, how would he respond?  If not only his partner, but his own daughter started shying away from him, what length would he go to to correct this behavior?

Dwelling on it made your skin crawl.

But perhaps all of your worries were asinine. Despite his inclination for cruelty, Ren had never so much as raised a hand towards your daughter, even when she did act up. If anything, he was overprotective of her, barely letting her move faster than a brisk jog lest she fall and hurt herself. He hated seeing his little girl experience even a modicum of physical pain, mentioning to you previously that were he able, he’d keep her locked up in a padded room all day and night to prevent any foreseeable accidents or injuries. Surely it was just his idea of a joke, but the insinuation still made you cringe.

It was almost comical, just how greatly the manifestation of his affection for her differed from how he showed his love for you.

His domineering nature shielded her from experiencing any true pain. Every scrape, bruise, and cut she ever received was superficial, nothing that caused major bleeding or left a lasting impression. She had no way of knowing what had been done to you to cause the scars that marred your form, the torment and hell you experienced with each slash, smack, burn. Hell, she probably didn’t even really understand what a scar actually was. All she knew was that her mommy and daddy had strange marks on their skin that didn’t follow any kind of set pattern, weird jagged lines and indents that her soft skin was curiously free from. The mystery of it all was as puzzling to her young mind as it was enticing.

However, some mysteries were best left unsolved, and just as with each other time she brought up this hot topic, you found yourself unable to look into her clear, bright eyes and tell her any semblance of the truth. She may have been forced upon you, but she was your daughter. You loved her, and you refused to be the one to shatter her innocence. You would keep her ignorant for as long as possible, shielding her to the endless nightmare of your daily lives, even if it cost you your sanity.

“Mommy,” her voice jarred you, dragging you from your thoughts, “mommy did you hear me? I said I think they are pretty!”

“T-that’s… I…” You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended it to. The room felt like it had dropped thirty degrees, your body twitching in response to the sudden chill.

“Daddy told me he gave some of them to you, like this one,” her pudgy, cold finger pressed into the faded heart that resided on your chest, the first of many indelible sins he had etched onto your form. Only the top half of the carved symbol was viewable above the collar of your shirt, so she tugged at the loose hem until she could see it in its horrible entirety.

“Daddy said he gave you this one because he loves you so much,” her voice grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eye as they drank in wounds you wished you could forget, “Daddy loves me too, right mommy? You think he’ll give me a cute heart someday too?”

You felt as if you had been hit by a train.

“S-top,” the words were forced from your throat, airy and breathless, as if someone was wringing your neck to make them come out, “p-please, just stop talking.”

“What did you say mama,” your daughters sing-song voice responded as her fingers continued to trace and prod your scars, “You are whispering, is it a secret?”

“I told you to SHUT UP!”

As if following your command, your booming voice instantly silenced the small girl. Unused to such a violent outburst from her mother, her happy-go-lucky nature quickly shifted to one of alert, her tiny body going rigid as she stared up at you with fearful eyes.

Seeing her in such a state and knowing that you were the cause of it would normally have killed you inside, making you fall to your knees to beg for the child’s forgiveness. But right now, the thin thread that had been holding you together had snapped, and your words rushed out in a torrent you couldn’t begin to quell.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” You seethed, clasping your hands to your ears to try and block out your own intrusive voice, “Just STOP TALKING about it! What are you even saying? Why would you ever want to look like this?!”

Tears started to flood your eyes, blurring the image of the girl who had quickly jumped from your lap and was now cowering before you. Through your bleary vision, you could see tears were brimming her eyes as well.

“You… You have no idea,” your voice warbled, shaking in equal parts grief and frustration, “You have no clue what you are saying, so just STOP IT. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!”

You slunk from the chair down to the floor, burying your face in your cold, stiff hands. The soft blubbering of your daughter could be heard through your own sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hearing her broken voice began to shatter the spell you had been under, instant regret jerking you roughly back to reality. Your head sunk lower, your body scrunching itself up as tightly as possible to hide from this cruel reality.

Your screams were born from deeply buried feelings of hatred, tucked far, far away as a means of self-preservation. For a moment, you felt as if you despised your daughter, her existence tethering you to this wretched excuse of a life, binding you irrevocably to Ren. But as you lifted your heavy head, glancing up to stare into her young face, a face so very similar to your own, a face contorted in panic and sadness over her mother’s abrupt descent into madness… you realized it wasn’t her that you hated.

It was yourself.

Your daughter didn’t deserve this. She deserved normalcy. She deserved a father that didn’t pose a threat to her. She deserved a mother that wasn’t ruined by his hands. She deserved a happy and untroubled life, not to be stuck being raised in a barbed cage, navigating her way through life with nothing but the shattered remains of a battered woman to guide her.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked under the weight of your overwhelming emotions, snot and tears running freely down your ruddy cheeks and chin, “I’m so, so sorry baby…”

“What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t heard the front door open, nor had you heard Ren’s jubilant greeting as he entered your home. He had no doubt been upset by the lack of welcome-it was one thing to be ignored by a child, but his doting wife? That was not something he was not apt to look past.

But surely any feelings of annoyance or frustration fled from his mind the moment he entered the room, his eyes falling upon your crumpled, messy form collapsed on the floor. You cursed his arrival, upset that he entered the scene at such a compromising time, right as you were struggling to regain an ounce of composure and properly apologize to the little girl who had done nothing wrong.

“D-daddy,” your daughter’s voice warbled as she barreled towards him, colliding into his waiting embrace. You wiped at your face in a desperate attempt to hide your previous outpouring of emotions, doing your best to avoid eye contact with Ren as his sharp gaze quickly flicked from you, to his daughter.

This had already become enough of a scene without Ren’s interference, it was best to try and begin damage control now. 

“Daddy I-I made mommy cry!” Tears continued to pour from your daughter’s eyes, her face twisting into a look of pure dismay. Her misguided admission of guilt made you recoil, knowing full well it would grant her no favors with the person she seeking comfort from. “I’m really sorry daddy! I didn’t mean to!”

After several endless seconds of silence, Ren spoke.

“… You made her cry?”

His voice was far sharper than it needed to be, further agitating the precarious state of affairs. In most cases he would have offered your daughter leniency, letting her get away with far more than she probably should. However that leniency was null and void if you ended up suffering in the process.  Ren could not forgive anyone that caused you any duress (himself, of course, being the exemption) even if that person was his own flesh and blood.

“What do you mean you made her cry? What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” she wailed, a fresh wave of tears spurred on by the accusatory tone of her father’s voice, “I just told mommy I thought her marks were pretty and then she started crying! I wasn’t lying daddy, I like them! I think they make mommy look really pretty!”

“Her marks…?” Ren’s look of vexation began to dissipate as the meaning of her words donned on him. He lifted his arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own scars to the little girl. Pointing a clawed finger to them, he leaned down until he was looking her in the eye, “You mean like these?”

As she nodded her head vigorously in confirmation, Ren tutted, “That’s the reason for all the water works? An innocent compliment started all this fussing?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Isn’t that a little bit… silly?

You tensed at the sound of his barking laugh, your frown deepening as an amused grin spread wider across his lips. You wished that you could say it was shocking for him to have such disregard after finding the two of you in such an agitated state, but it was painfully in character of him to shrug off your misery and suffering as inconsequential.  How he could so nonchalantly normalize this hellish situation he kept you and your child ensnared in, you would never understand.

Your daughter was apparently sharing similar thoughts, as her face began to once more morph into a pre-sobbing scowl. She was no doubt wounded that her father was not offering her the comfort she was seeking, her emotional state already greatly weakened by her mother’s venomous tantrum.

To help quell another round of tears, Ren pulled the child closer, wrapping her up in his arms so that her tiny form was nearly enveloped by him.  “Shhh, no more tears angel,” he cooed sweetly, patting her head gently to appease her, “There isn’t any reason to cry, especially because… Well, you’re right! Mommy’s whole body is pretty, isn’t it? Her marks just compliment the beauty that’s already there.”

Slowly but surely, her tears began to dissipate. Hunched over shoulders loosened, and sniffles and hiccups gave way to even breathing. Like clockwork, her father’s gentle handling soothed her, the same touch that destroyed you offering her salvation.

As if under a spell, the turmoil that had overcome your daughter quickly began to vanish, her sobbing fading into quiet sniffles. Once she was fully calmed, Ren continued speaking, “That’s all you meant to say to mommy, right angel? I’m sorry she took it the wrong way, she’s probably just tired or hungry, you know how mommy gets. She’ll get over it in no time flat!”

Heat spread through your body at his flippant dismissal of your feelings, an indignant blush lighting your cheeks as you gripped your hands tightly at your side. Your previous emotional episode left you all but drained, but your will to fight back against his callous commentary could never truly be contained.

“In fact, I bet she is already over it now,” Ren’s voice took on a jovial tone as he directed his focus solely on you, “Aren’t you, pumpkin?”

With the ball suddenly in your court, you flinched as both sets of expectant eyes fell on you. Your own eyes darted from Ren’s piercing glare, down to your daughter’s wide-eyed look of unbridled hope. You felt much like the rabbit that had been caught by the fox, stuck in a lose-lose situation. Seeing him hunched over her small body as she clutched to him as a life line, openly concerned that her mother may once more reject her while her father remained a bastion of strength and understanding, left you reeling. Either you would get heated again and stay the villain, but possibly hold on to an ounce of your dignity, or concede to Ren and have yet another piece of your soul wither away and die-the price to pay so that your daughter could remain in blissful ignorance for another day.

“Aren’t you, pumpkin?” He repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word. The kindness in his voice serving only as a mask for the threat buried beneath.

“Y-yes,” you responded quickly, shooting them both a smile you hoped was convincing, “I am very sorry, baby. Daddy is right. Mommy is just… tired.”

A serene smile lit her face, your words placating her. Seeing her happy once more helped relieve a bit of the ache in your own heart, making the lie worth it.

“Good, good,” Ren affirmed with a nod, carefully detaching himself from your daughter as he stood, “but you know little one, mommy deserves some love too, don’t you think? She may have been in the wrong, but it’s not nice to make her cry like that. Why don’t you go give her a hug, hm?”

With no further persuading necessary, she quickly padded over to you, hopping on your lap with so much enthusiasm that it nearly knocked the wind from you. Her arms tightly latched around your torso as she smushed her face into your chest, rubbing it back and forth like she was trying to burrow beneath your skin.

“I love you mommy,” her voice spoke clearly, any hint of previous sadness long gone. You sighed, relieved that this dramatic chapter was over as you pulled your daughter closer to you.

“I love you too.”

During this show of affection, Ren had made his way behind you, slinking so deftly you hadn’t even known he had moved until you heard him chuckle softly behind you.

“This is what I like to see,” he spoke with a sickeningly dreamy sigh, “nothing makes me happier than when my two girls are happy.”

He placed his hands gingerly atop your shoulders, trailing them down until they rested on your arms. His thumbs pressed gently against the marred skin, rubbing in a small circular motion in an attempt to subdue you. His claws grazed your flesh, uncomfortably scratching against you as they snagged against your skin.

He planted a firm and lingering kiss to the side of your head, pulling away just enough that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “There really was nothing to cry about,” he whispered breathily, his words quiet enough that despite your daughters’ proximity, she would have no chance of hearing them. “It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you are, scars and all. But you must know that, right my sweet pet? I tell you all the time.”

Ren took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky sigh, “Seeing these scars reminds me of all we have been through, all that we share. They are a symbol of our bond.”

One of his claws pressed down sharply, a small bead of blood pooling around the piercing. Leisurely he began to drag his finger up your arm, a thin red line following in its wake. You shivered at the burning sensation, but deigned to give him any reaction further than that.

“Don’t forget pumpkin, these pretty marks are a reminder of my constant love for you.” He chuckled softly, peppering a few kisses to the back of your neck while his claws slowly sunk deeper, “And right now I am feeling  terribly sentimental, so for old times’ sake, why don’t I add a few more to remind you just how precious to me you are~?”

[rogueddie]

Make A Wish T | 654 words Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is making a birthday extra special

For as long as Steve can remember, Valentines has always been emphasized to him as a special day. A day full of love, and joy, and connection. A day where he could tell anyone that he loves them, even Tommy, and no one would give him so much as a glance.

It's been a while since he's been able to properly celebrate the day though. With the Upside Down, the constant fear that it would come back, that people would get hurt again, always buzzing in the back of his head...

Well, it never felt right.

But, now that it's finally and truly over? He's excited to celebrate. He has his soulmate, the best friend that he could ever wish for and loves with all his heart... and he might have a boyfriend.

"You will have a boyfriend," Robin corrects. "He's been flirting with you for months. If he doesn't make a move first, he'll be stumbling over himself to say yes."

She's right.

He rushes to agree to the date when Steve asks, stuttering in his hurry. But, instead of asking Steve what he has planned, he asks if he can surprise Steve.

"I was thinking about asking you, but... I don't know, I got too nervous, I guess. But it's a good idea, so..."

"Sure, yeah. It'll be nice to be on this end for once."

When Eddie picks him up, he insists that Steve sit in the back of the van so he can't see anything before they arrive.

He climbs over the seats when they do arrive, blindfolding him.

"This way, mind your step, just a little further..." Eddie mumbles, gently leading Steve. "Ok. You ready?"

"Yeah."

When he pulls the blindfold off, there's a burst of noise and color.

They're at the Byers new place. It's covered in decorations, confetti in the air, and everyone stood around cheering.

The banner has a bubbly, colorful, "happy birthday!" drawn on.

"Happy birthday," El says, the first to step up. She holds up a present. "I am very happy to know you."

"Oh. Thanks, El. But, uh..." He glances around, until finally finding Eddie tucked in a corner. "How did you know that today is my birthday?"

"Overheard some old flame of yours one time," Eddie explains. "She was convinced that you two were meant to be, entirely because you were born on valentine's day."

"Seriously?"

"Right?"

"Steve!" Dustin calls, waving him towards the kitchen. "Nevermind that! Come on, we made a cake! And there's presents, but we should do cake first!"

The kids, as it turns out, really did make the kids themselves. It's not bad either, especially after melted chocolate and whip cream is poured over it, almost drowning it.

The gifts from the kids are all homemade.

Steve is sure that they're the best gifts he's ever received.

"Happy birthday," Robin whispers, as she hugs him goodbye. "And good luck, yeah?"

"Won't need it," he whispers back. "This night is too perfect for it to fail now."

He decides to wait until they pull up outside his house. Then, if it works out? They can go inside. If it fails? Easy exit.

But, as soon as they pull up, Eddie beats him to the punch.

"Hey," he starts, nervous. "I hope you enjoyed today and-"

"I did. Really, it was amazing. Thanks, Ed. It means a lot, more than you can imagine."

"It was nothing. It's... I don't want to ruin that if you don't- I won't take it bad, is what I mean. I just think you should know, uh... you're so loved. By, uh, me."

"You love me?"

"Yeah, Steve. I really do, so much."

"I love you too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, dumbass. I asked you on a date."

"... oh, fuck, you did."

Steve laughs, reaching over to grab his collar and drag him into a kiss.

It really is the perfect end to the perfect day.

[matchesarelit]

Imagine If You Will... Just Us (Lars Pinfield X gn!Reader)

Prompts: “I thought it was going to be just us today” from @pookie-and-cereal's list (here) AND #17, #28 and #30 from @thelonelyempath's list (here).

W.C: ~3k

Warnings: Gary gets typical 3rd wheel treatment, science flirting (it's real bad),

Coming back from Ray's, your arms were killing, turns out hiking over an hour over public transport with more than ten kilos of, for a lack of a better word, junk, was not the brightest idea. Lars had texted you late last night, gushing over the newest adaptions he'd make to the extractor; how much time was saved on every use, how low the resistance rate was etc.

So naturally, when he invited you to come in on the weekend to try it out, your reply could have broken the sound barrier, if it weren't a text that is. You weren't exactly in his realm in regards to ghostbusting science, now don't get me wrong you did ghost bust on occasion, but your main focus was on the PR end of Ghost Corps. Yes, it is a very stressful job. That being so, you weren't sure why he'd chosen to invite you, surely another scientist would be able to understand it better.

Well, who truly cares... you were getting the rare chance to witness his dorky joy and that was not something you were going to turn down.

Finally trudging in through the main doors, you let out a grievous grunt as you dropped the box of trinkets onto a nearby trolley. Tugging it along behind you as you made your way to the main lab, you waved as you always did towards the enclosed ghosts in the hallway. Finally setting sights on the elaborate workspaces of the many scientists that work crammed into the space, you allowed your smile to overtake your features, eager as always to see Lars in his natural environment.

You'd first met when you stated on the G.C PR team, you'd been eager to set up a web page for the Ghostbusters with a page profile for all involved scientists. Winston had had you meet them all here in the lab, Lars was one of the first you'd met and you'd gotten along immediately.

"Heyo! I think you're gonna have to send Ray a gift basket with the amount of stuff he gave us-" Your rattled-out greeting was cut short as your eyes fell on the pair of men huddled by one of the desks. As they turned to greet you, you felt your steps slow, the air felt dense against your movements. Lars had forced out a smile that had no hopes of reaching his eyes, while the man by his side, Gary Grooberson, seemed to be dripping in ecstatic energy as he jogged over to meet you by the steps.

As he lifted the front end of the trolley and helped you carry it down, your eyes fell back on Lars, he was once again facing away from you and he'd retreated to the large mechanical focus of your visit. His hands were busy doing, what even you could tell from across the room, was absolutely nothing.

Cutting your study short, Gary captured you in a hug, it was as it always is; warm and comforting and definitely more for him than it was for you. You had time and time again succeeded in putting a good spin on whatever ruckus his family had created, so he was by no means a new acquaintance, neither was his proclivity for hugs a surprise.

Gary's greeting however flew right past your ears, tearing your focus away from the man on the other side of the space was proving much too difficult. To your luck however, you managed a gentle greeting and casual inquiry of how his family was doing before a notable amount of time had passed.

With a conscious effort you set your eyes on Gary, resolved to focus on the conversation at hand, the man before you was a friend after all. As the conversation continued, small updates about how the Spenglers and co were doing outside of the ghost busts filled the next half hour, before the dialogue began to stall.

Until, Gary, ever the extrovert, started to rifle through the box you'd brought in,

'So, are you as excited for today as I am? It sounds like Lars has been making absolute leaps and bounds with this stuff.'

Now, you wouldn't say you were projecting your voice when you spoke up, nonetheless, it definitely wasn't a normal speaking level. 'Yeah! I can't wait to see what he's been up to...' You trailed off as you glanced towards where Lars still stood, his back to the two of you but his hands had now stilled in place, a change you all but reveled in.

Lars wasn't a guy who enjoyed being alone all to much, you'd been able to gather as such within moments of meeting him. Luckily, that first time, you'd caught him on a good day; when talking about his work, rather than doing it, was pretty much exactly what he wanted to do. He'd tried to come across as a sort of stoic and while it was clear he did enjoy the solitude, the way he interacted with his peers made it crystal clear how much he also enjoyed such conversations.

That was part of why his actions today seemed so strange... You weren't exactly his peer as a scientist, but you knew enough about ghosts and he'd shared similar achievements with you in the past, not to mention the fact that he, himself, had invited you here only last night.

As for Gary, he was a scientific man himself, so why the Lars wasn't chatting happily with him about the newest changes to the mechanism was a mystery to say the least.

You'd hate to admit it, although it wasn't hard to notice by any means, you'd obliviously thought it was just going to be the two of you. So it took some quick metal re-wiring upon realizing you wouldn't just be able to fawn so freely over the unsuspecting scientist as you often did.

In that moment you'd felt bad, noting that both of you were acting strange and that that couldn't have been too fun for Gary.

Although... you considered perhaps Lars was simply overthinking his progress, now that his audience was present. Maybe he just needed a little push to start, like one of those old timey planes.

'Lars' Your call cracked through the silence of the facility, your voice finally tugging the man in question to turn on the spot. 'Come on Science-man, show us what you've got!'

He shook his head slightly in a sort of incredulity as he turned back around, your shoulders fell slightly, but only momentarily as his voice soon bounced around the room.

'Come on then'

Your eager smile reappeared on your face as you beelined towards the large prism like container in the middle of the workplace, where he stood hitting, what you could only assume, were the start up buttons. Your eyes on him, and his eyes on the machine -with you safely in his peripherals- Gary was left to wheel over the box of supplies. His mumblings of something about third wheeling and losing his phone, all but faded to oblivion in your focus.

Stepping back from the small panel and towards yourself and Gary, Lars seemed to pause for a moment, glancing once between you and his chair that sat empty by the control screen. You brushed off the look he'd given as he began to speak, as a mutual offer between him, yourself and Gary, You'd chosen consciously however, to not plop down in it yourself.

Strangely, claiming his seat whenever he stood from it, felt like something you could only do in private, although it usually occurred when ten or so other scientists also occupied the space. You suppose, sitting there; your head in your hand, as you gawk up at him was a lot more obvious when the only other person in the room would be standing mere feet away.

Whilst you turned your own thoughts over in your head, Gary had taken the chair for himself, muttering out a cheeky, 'ya snooze ya lose'. While you were still mulling things over, Gary caught what you didn't; a flash of a glare passing over Lars' features as he paused his explanation.

Choosing to remain comfy, Gary shot the younger scientist a simple smile, before tilting his head in your direction. With one look to you, your in-your-head state was obvious and Lars was talking a step towards you, your name a whisper on his lips.

Snapping out of your thoughts, and meeting his eyes, you immediately rushed out an apology running shaky hands down your face as you promised to listen closely.

From there it was somewhat business as usual, Lars went about explaining his changes, with yourself, and Gary, asking prompting questions every once and a while. You'd resolved to simply enjoy his company as you usually would, extra company be damned. Sorry Gary.

Gaping up at him in the way you always did, you were yet again in awe of Lars. The way his eyes shone a little brighter when the machine worked perfectly and how he would always look eagerly to you a soft smile on his face. Ghost by ghoul, the three of you went about testing for a while, with Lars occasionally ducking his head towards the wiring or control panel to make some small adjustment, only to return with a beaming smile when the following test went by even faster.

Watching him work was always enjoyable. He was always either grinning like a fool or he had that small frown and furrowed brow that graced his features in a moment, usually quite brief, of struggle. All the same, even that echo of a scowl wasn't enough to diminish the glow you swore he gave off. Today was slightly different, there was no lab coat in sight, his goggles hung loosely around his neck and the top half of his jumpsuit had been tied 'round his waist. He seemed relaxed, at least if you ignored the tension that seemed to be holding his body together.

'Amazing' your murmured comment, and the countless like it, were more about him than his machine and whenever you caught his eyes with your own, you hoped he could see that. Gary, on the other hand was completely enthralled by the testing, rattling off compliments of his own with much higher frequency, mentions of the 'stellar efficiency' and 'innovative programming' which, I'm sad to say, went in one ear and out the other. Except, for when he managed to interrupt you in the midst of his enthusiasm, at which point he was met with yet another brief glare from the man of the hour.

The setting sun that bathed the three of you in warm tones of orange and yellow took you by surprise, and a quick glace to the box by your side revealed you had powered through more than three quarters of your supplies. You felt your shoulders fall considerably at this thought, now achingly aware you'd be expected to leave somewhat soon. Shocking you from your melancholy was the loud ring of Lars' phone, some 8-bit version of the Ghostbusters theme you'd set up on his phone some time ago, echoing about the space.

He hurriedly excused himself, and unwitting as usual your eyes lingered on the doorway he'd left through. Until a clambering of legs swung into your own, following them with an eyebrow raised you met Gary's stare as his own eyebrows wiggled fancifully. 'Soooo... I'm gonna get going, Callie just texted-' Catching him in a squinted glare you doubted '-didn't you say you'd lost your phone?'

'um-uh, okay so I'm just a little aware that you guys want to be alone.' His tone was anything but unsure, nevertheless he seemed hesitant to voice his concern.

'No don't go, I'm sorry I-I know I get a bit absorbed seeing him work, but he wants you here!' You'd felt horrible, you weren't aware how obvious you'd been.

'Its okay, I know you didn't mean to... Also I highly doubt Lars is all that happy about me being here.' You opened your mouth to argue but he shook his head simply as he continued. 'Winston invited me after Lars let him know he'd be here today, He didn't know until I got here and that half an hour before you arrived was tense enough.'

You supposed he was right, Lars had seemed pretty off earlier, but surely it wasn't that deep that Gary should leave. 'That's silly though, you're a scientist, if anyone is annoying him by hanging around surely its me... I mean I was asking all those inane questions.'

Your concern was met with the most well meaning, yet still a bit of a brush-off, cackle you'd heard from him, 'Except every one was met with a soft explanation and a confirmation that you understood, which wasn't exactly the response I've been getting. I doubt today was meant to be about the science as anything more than as a justification for inviting you over.'

Your brow furrowed at that, yourself and Lars had hung out before, you supposed it wasn't too frequently and it was usually a work outing where the two of you peeled off for a bit. Even so, why would he feel like he had to justify inviting you over?

'But we're friends, he knows he doesn't have to-' you stopped yourself as his footsteps reverberated through the halls, growing closer by the second.

Mid-way through turning your head to catch the doorway, Gary darted out of his chair. Stealing back your attention as he addressed yourself and you supposed lars, who you could imagine had stopped, lingering at the end of the hall at the other man's outburst. 'I've gotta get going, great seeing you guys... Good luck with the rest of the testing...' He was backing away now, towards the entryway, maneuvering around stray chairs and tables as he went. With a final flourish of a finger gun in Lars' direction, he was crossing the threshold and calling back over his shoulder. '...Not that you need it!'

You found yourself scoffing in disbelief as you continued to watch as the doors swung closed with a slam. Slowly turning on the spot you set sights on Lars. He was making his way over to you, shoulders still higher than usual, tight due to, as far as you could ascertain, the dramatic exit of the older man. Reaching out, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. As the slight weight of your hand settled on him you noted the relaxed fall of his shoulders, a sigh falling from his lips. Content with the slight ease in his demeanor you gave a slight squeeze and a hum of your own.

'So, should we get back to it?' Lars nodded, but otherwise remained completely still until you elected to remove your hand, at which point he spun on the spot and traipsed back over to the machine with a vigor that'd been notably absent all day.

Narrowing your eyes at the man in front of you, you watched as he returned to his regular As Seen On TV type demonstration. Now, with a pep in his step that you always found almost too intoxicating he placed a new object inside the chamber, closed it and started towards the computer.

'Hey, Lars? Can you level with me on something?' you hated to see how his movements stuttered to a halt at your vague interruption, but the question fell from your lips before you could think, 'Do you not like Gary?' His gaze seemed to flutter about the space, until his eyes were screwed shut, a shaky hand messing through his locks as his jaw dropped open, dancing silently in the nonexistent wind until you fixed him with pointed look and he suddenly found some words.

'I don't dislike him he's just very- He's smart it's just- its just that...' he trailed off, seemingly deciding to communicate through a jumpscare like gesture of his hands.

'He's very eager?' he nodded, glad you gotten his meaning, but he stilled when your head tilted ever so slightly.

'So am I.' With that thought your eyes had drifted from his, not shyly to the ground but dazed, as if fixed on some invisible specter only you could see. Your mind grew harsh faster than you'd care to admit, retroactively scanning every interaction with him against some intangible measure of frustration. There were surely times your presence slowed his work, distracting him with conversation or absurd what if's, not to mention the plethora of what you now realized must have been idiotic questions.

Surely he'd been speaking while you re-considered your very existence, but it wasn't until you felt the warmth of his hands on your shoulders that an ounce of sound managed to reach your brain.

'Hey, you okay there? You-you went blank on me.'

'I-um yeah -I just...' You had no clue what to say, how could you? Yeah sorry I was just thinking about how insufferable I must be to you, that came with a little spiraling as a treat.

Gathering that you'd most likely missed his in depth explanation of the difference between yourself and Gary from his perspective, Lars stepped away from you, considering the best way to dissolve the tension evident on your features. 'You and I, Us, we're not just colleagues, you don't just come to me to get new gadgets or answer some question you have... even if you do have a few. We're... something else, but when he's here its like he's extracting facts and figures, all the while you're just trying to understand me, m-my work. Its not his fault I- just I-'

'-Thought it was going to be just us today?' Cutting off his rambling you finally met his eyes. He shrugged nodding slightly as he held your gaze. 'If it makes it better?.. it is now.'

He released a bemused hmmf. 'I'll admit I wasn't the biggest fan of having to fight for your attention today. I'm pretty glad it is just the two of us again. Splitting your focus between me and my work is as much as I can handle.' Shaking your head in amusement at his sudden bluntness, you stepped towards him, a gentle hand against his chest, the eye contact mere inches long as you stood in his orbit.

'You are so oblivious... Trust me Lars there was not a moment that you weren't the nucleus of my afternoon.' A light groan was his only response to your overy-cheesy claim. 'No? what about...' you thought for a moment, tapping a finger to your chin.

'I'm much too weak to resist the gravity of your presence.' he narrowed his eyes at you own, looking for something you couldn't distinguish.

'Is that why you're in so close? My pull is too strong?' He didn't bother to cover the roll of his eyes or the teasing tone in his voice, but the smile that was paired with them was comfort enough to keep you talking.

'Mhmm You're just too enthralling Pinfield, you're gonna have to work on that if you want other people to be able to stand being around us'

Amidst all his scoffing and modest smiling, the blush that spung up across his cheeks was a sight for sore eyes, as his head lowered and he whispered into the paper thin space between you his tone even and resolute;

'Who says I'd ever want that?'

[mamirhodessxox]

Hi! I would love a one shot of our king, Cody Rhodes. Prompt is “reader is pregnant with their first child and feeling self-conscious about how she looks so Cody sets to work reminding her how sexy he thinks she is”. Thank youuuuu ♥️

DON’T MAKE ME WILD OUT NONNIE

RAAHHHH

Absolutely not having it

Cody Rhodes x Pregnant(fem)!Reader

Desc: You & Your husband Cody are attending a wwe awards show event and it would be the first time you walk down the red carpet in awhile & taking pictures on your own, Word got out that you two were expecting a baby but the only downside is the feeling of insecurity washing over you.

Contents: Fluff, Supportive cody!!!, Body shaming, Insecurities, Self doubt, Etc etc

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

It was early July, You & Your husband Cody had arrived in L.A for the week so you both could attend the WWE award show being held tonight & everything was going perfect until this afternoon, You were in the hotel you two were staying at putting on your dress that was custom made to your liking, Your stylist helped you get inside but the moment you struggled to get in at least a little bit it was almost as if everything crashed down.

Once you slipped in the dress your stylist zipped you up but all you could do was stare at the mirror in pure disgust, Cody walked in adjusting his tie and smiled at you “Well aren’t you just the most beautiful woman in the whole universe.” You looked over at him with a disgusted look which confused him so he had the stylist wait outside the room. “Sweetheart what’s the matter? Your water didn’t break did it?”

You sighed shaking your head and took a seat on the bed holding your belly “No not yet but I wish it dod, gettin’ sick of this body, I look like a goddamn pig Cody .” You sigh out but he wasn’t having any of it “Uh-uh, no, get the hell up.” He grabbed your hands and dragged you ti the mirror and stood behind you and put his hands on top of your tummy “You don’t say that ever again am I understood? Your our babies home right now and i’ll be damned if you say something like that ever again, you’re the most beautiful sexiest woman I know & our babygirl is gonna come out just as beautiful as you.” He scolds while you frown and lean your back into his chest

“I don’t know Cody, It took me 5 whole minutes to get in this dress! I’m getting fat!” You huff out but he shook his head “Your not getting fat sweetheart, You realize it’s not even your stomach that’s the issue? The dress was made to get your belly in with ease, Your ass & Thighs need to get in there & not only that but so are your tits sweetheart.” You grimace at his foul use of words but that was just Cody. He didn’t necessarily have a censor around you.

“What about all the comments you’re getting on Instagram, Twitter? Everywhere? I’m not beautiful like I used to be! Everyone thinks i’m getting ugly Cody! It’s a horrible look for your reputation.” He scoff and kisses the temple of your head “Half of the people who say that are either miserable failures or jealous women that couldn’t get to marry me like you. You realize how many people think you’re gorgeous right now? Hell I’m a man and I would kill to have that pregnancy glow you have.”

You laughed and nodded your head a little bit while turning around and running your hands up his chest and fixing his tie “I guess you’re right..I don’t know what I would do without your support.” He shrugged and gave you a kiss “Probably going nuts?”

You chuckle and nod your head while wrapping around Cody “Thank you for the boost baby, I feel much better now.” He rubbed your back for a few seconds before sitting you down on the bed & helped putting on your high heels while placing little kisses on the side of your ankles.

After a good 30 minutes of double checking your outfits You both arrived at the Arena where the award show was being hosted & Cody had to separate from you for a little bit to take a few interviews, You got your pictures taken with a few familiar faces when you were a women’s wrestler at WWE before going on maternity leave, By the time Cody & You reunited you were both seated somewhere.

This night was one of the most successful nights ever for Cody & You, He got an award for top best wrestler of the year & he thanked everybody especially you. You felt more than lucky to have him as your husband & even more luckier to be carrying his child.

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @puppy-princ3ss @valkyrurr @mini-rhodes

XtripleiiiX’s Masterlist

A/N: Hii doll! I hope you enjoyed this little imagine & it was as good as you wished it to be :) if you have anymore ideas & requests feel free to send them in :)

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 26th:  Corroded Coffin | I Wanna Be Somebody - W.A.S.P. | Hopeful a/n: descriptions of anxiety & grounding, rockstar!eddie, supportive!uncle wayne, established steddie. read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

Corroded Coffin gets its first gig outside of Gareth’s garage on a random Tuesday in October 1985. 

It’s a small place, a true hole in the wall, the exact kind of place Eddie Munson imagines James Hetfield might’ve seen back in Metallica’s earliest days. There are maybe five people in the crowd outside of the bartender and servers, but those are five more people than have ever heard them play before. 

Jeff, Freak, and Gareth are goofing around backstage, tuning instruments, pushing and shoving playfully, the excitement palpable. Eddie wants to join in but his heart and his stomach seem to have swapped places. Nauseous, shaky, and terrified, he can’t bring himself to shake it off with his friends and finds himself sitting in the corner, back to the wall. 

An apt metaphor, really. 

He feels caged, stuck, panicked– a lion trapped in too small of a space if the lion was also secretly afraid of its one and only concrete talent being judged as not good enough by strangers. 

“Alright, Ed, take a breath with me, okay?” Wayne appears out of nowhere, grunting as he sits on the grody floor next to Eddie. 

A familiar, calloused hand gently pulls Eddie’s fingers out of his hair, a position he doesn’t realize he’s in until Wayne pulls him out of it. He turns to face his Uncle and breathes with him the same way he had as an anxious little kid before the talent show, as the new kid in school, as the now fledgling adult who still needs comfort, reputation and appearance be damned. 

Eddie closes his eyes and lets Wayne squeeze his hand to cute inhalation and exhalation. One day, he’ll think to ask him where the fuck he got that from, but not today. Today, he needs to calm down enough to perform with his friends. 

In. Out. 

In. Out. 

In. Out. 

“Feelin’ better?” Wayne asks, patting Eddie’s knee with his free hand. 

Eddie nods and lets his eyes flutter open. It feels like waking up as he adjusts back to the noise and light he’d managed to tune out. “I think so, yeah. Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so scared as shit but yeah. Not okay.” 

Wayne scoffs and shakes his head. “It’s your first show, Ed. ‘S alright to be a little keyed up. You’re gonna be fine though, just go out there and have fun with it.” 

“You’ll stay for the show?” Eddie asks, a little more hopeful. Seeing Wayne in the audience during the talent show all those years ago set his nerves at ease. Seeing Wayne in the audience at The Hideout might do the same. 

“Nah, figured I’d just stop by to talk you off the ledge and head on home. Of course I’m stayin’, what kinda Uncle do you think I am?” 

Eddie and Corroded Coffin play their first gig to a crowd of about five drunks and one Uncle Wayne. It’s not perfect– Eddie trips over a microphone wire at least once and they each miss a cue here and there– but they finish to applause. The loudest of which comes from Uncle Wayne. 

—

Over the years, Corroded Coffin ebbs and flows. When Eddie nearly dies, the band does too for a bit but, like Eddie, reanimates after some left dormant. The members stay the same, the name stays the same, the sound stays the same. What changes is the audience. 

Apparently, the metal community is very interested in Eddie’s Lazarus-adjacent story coupled with wrongful accusations and a suburban witch hunt. Interested enough for the band to start getting noticed. The Hideout turns into The Vogue, and then the Old National Centre, and then the TCU Amphitheater. At each one, Eddie feels the same nerves he had at their first gig, and maybe even a bit more so now with his Upside Down injuries always at the back of his mind. 

What if I pull something?

What if my leg gives out?

What if– 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, leaning against the wall next to Eddie. “It’s gonna be okay, you know that, right?” 

Eddie nods and chews on the piece of hair he’s pulled in front of his face. 

He doesn’t know that, actually, but it’s not something he wants to rehash right now. Besides, Steve more than anyone can understand his running monologue more than most. He’d been there, been the one to carry him out, and since they started dating, has been the one to lull him back to sleep when the memories jar him awake. 

But Wayne’s not here yet, probably stuck in traffic after leaving the factory early for the show, and Eddie doesn’t know how to prepare for a show without his guided breathing. 

Every rockstar has a ritual, and that’s his. 

“I know I’m no Wayne but, wanna try breathing with me?” Steve offers with a sheepish smile. 

He nods again, still silent, and breathes. This time, softer hands holding his and cueing his inhalations and exhalations. It’s not the same, but it’s something. Enough to calm his racing heart to the point of words and with a shout from Jeff and a kiss from Steve, he takes the biggest stage he’s played yet. 

Halfway through their set, Eddie sees movement in the corner of his eye and when he dares a glance, he sees Uncle Wayne standing next to Steve in his dusty flannel with a beaming smile. 

The nerves disappear. 

[yuri-is-online]

Hi hi, Can you please to prompt 4 with Malleus,Vil, and Riddle?

4. You met someone really wonderful at the Masquerade Ball and have been ranting about how he was totally the love of your life to your abnormally quiet friend. Actually wasn't he invited too? Maybe you should ask him how that went.

Hello hello and of course I can, and I agree with the first ask you sent me. I was not really thinking of Malleus specifically when I wrote that prompt but it really does suit him doesn't it?

Oh also, welcome to the hell site. I noticed you're new from the few asks you sent me (I was so confused as to how a blank blog was talking to me), I hope you have fun with the content on here. New people are always welcome with me, I know all about being shy and uncertain of how to interact with people. I'll answer the other Malleus prompt you sent in after I have done some others, it was my bad for not realizing you were the same person haha.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, full shojo manga lack of self awareness here in Malleus's part (it is implied to take place before the Ch. 6 reveal), just don't think about it is Yuu's middle name. The rest of the requests can be found on my masterlist here.

Malleus

"Tsunotarou, you know a lot about gargoyles, right?" Such a foolish yet welcome question. Truly your unawareness of just who you are conversing with never ceases to amaze and infatuate him.

"Of course, I am something of an expert." He smiles, trying to keep it from showing the whites of his teeth.

"Oh well then you must be very happy to be in Diasomnia." Your eyes are sparkling, and he pauses. Yes he is very happy to be in Diasomnia, but not for the gargoyles. Briar Valley has long respected the legacy of the Thorn Fairy, and what better house could there be for the noblest of nobles than one that's very core is the spirit of nobility? But these are not exactly things he wishes to speak with you about, it would require detailed revelations he fears the consequences of.

"And what makes you think that, child of man?" Still there must be cause for your reasoning, and he does wish to hear it.

"Well your housewarden is one, isn't he?" You seem very pleased with yourself, but your mind is clearly very far away. Malleus stares at you, eyes wide in shock as he attempts to piece together what logic might have drawn you to such a conclusion. "I met him last night." Your dreamy sigh fills him with jealousy, just irrational enough that the thunder crack above you is quite small enough that he can convince you to remain outside of Ramshackle in conversation with him.

"Your mask is really impressive!" Your eyes always shone at the simplest displays of magic, it filled Malleus with a joy he could never quite find his fill of.

"Mask?!" Roars Sebek, his volume matching the pride rapidly feeling Malleus's chest. "Foolish human, this is more than a mere mask! This is a display of my lord's skill! A perfect recreation of old Briar Valley Masquerade tradition! His artistic talent has been woven though magic to bear his true face for the world to see-"

"That's quite enough Sebek." He does enjoy his retainers praise, but he has a task in mind that the over excited boy might- no will definitely endanger if he speaks further.

"But my lord!" Poor Sebek is torn between embarrassment, jelousy, and concern as he watches his precious lord observe you in the same manner one might a particularly expensive jewel.

"They have given me a most treasured compliment and I wish to reward them in turn." He bows, making sure to flourish his hand as he extends it, taking great pleasure in the little shudder that he only sees unaccompanied by fear in you. "May I have this dance, prefect?"

"Y-yes. You may." You seem in a daze as he takes you to the floor, just as unaware of the others around you as he is. It's wonderful, no matter how many times he visits you he has never had such a good excuse to hold you as this. Your scent, the weight of you in his arms, the way he can better familiarize himself with the subtle movements of your face is all much more real and overwhelming than he had ever imagined it being. It's all Lilia can do to drag him away, whispering teasing things about impropriety and duty to soothe the storm at his fingertips as he sees your friends scoop you up where he left off.

"He is a very handsome gargoyle. And so polite! But then I guess he is royalty so that makes sense..." The continued thunder has you inviting him in, mentioning something about tea he really can't be bothered to think about.

"No he isn't." Malleus pouts. "The nobility of Briar Valley has a reputation for being extremely dour and irrational."

"Oh. Well no wonder he seemed so happy I danced with him. Poor fellow must be very lonely." Oh if only you knew.

"Enough about my housewarden." Malleus declares without a hint of irony, bowing in a familiar fashion to prevent you from entering your kitchen. "He isn't the one you are talking to now is he? He isn't the one who you will be thinking about when you dream tonight." In a slight daze you take his hand, the living room fills with green fireflies as the storm outside slows to a halt as kinder, not softer emotions fill the young lord's heart. "He isn't the one your last dance is for, so focus on me, won't you?"

Vil

"This is why I told you to make sure whatever costume Crewel gave you came with a coat." Vil is beyond angry, with you certainly, but mostly at- life? The fact humans have an immune system that doesn't always work? You have no clue and your head is much too stuffed up to care. What you do care about is that Vil is here, and he really shouldn't be. Colds are contagious and Vil has so many things that he should be doing other than fussing over someone who is not in his dorm and not his responsibility.

"You could get sick." You say and he laughs, if you could see him, if he was not sat behind you on a bed in one of Pomefiore's empty rooms, you know the look he would have on his face. You would see his stupidly beautiful smug smile he has when he has something particularly cutting to say; instead you have to close your eyes and picture it as he pats your head dry just a bit more forcefully.

"Not my responsibility you say? You certainly seem to have a funny view of this." Vil has a word on the tip of his tongue. A word that's ambiguous, a word that would make his manager have a fit. If only she had been a fly on the wall during the Masquerade last night.

"My my, you seem a bit out of place." The tall stranger must be confused at your staring, but he seems more amused than offended. "Does my costume enchant you that much?"

"It reminded me of something." It would hard enough to explain to a friend what you are thinking of, harder still to a stranger. The scarlet costume could have been taken from a playbill, you find yourself looking him over for any sign of a folio. You highly doubt it's you the Red Death wants to capture tonight, but you cannot say you will protest too loudly if that's what he decides. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"Quite the opposite," the stranger does not ask you to dance, merely extends his hand and gracefully leads you off to the side when you take it, "so long as you praise me out loud you can look as long as you like."

"It's not like you got me sick." You sneeze into your tissue and Vil frowns, satisfied with your care but not with your answer. He had his suspicions that you may have made a... mistake in your assessment of your time at the Masquerade. But it did hurt him slightly to think that you did not know his essence well enough to have recognized him at once. "And I did get a costume with a cloak, I just gave it to the Red Death because it was too weird to see him without it."

"Mhmm I don't know." you say. It's such a shame Vil can only see your lips, he loves it when you tease him so much already it isn't fair he has to focus on something so tauntingly close and yet so far out of reach. "I think your costume is incomplete."

"Oh?" Vil makes sure to hold you close to him as the song ends, daring anyone to come close enough to try and steal your attention so he can laugh at the attempt. "What's your reasoning for that? Depending on what you have to say, I just might agree." You back out of his arms and make a frame with your fingers. "Kiss me." He begs silently. "Kiss me and leave a mark." But instead you unwind your cloak and fix it to his shoulder.

"Perfect. Now you really look like the portrait." And to his great despair you are gone.

Despite your earlier stated worries, you fall back into Vil's chest, tilting your back to look up at him. "When I'm not sick remind me to tell you about the Phantom of the Opera? I wanted to spend more time dancing with him, but I was feeling too much at home and got scared he'd vanish." Vil's eyes shine with a strangely familiar light, and he gently guides you under the bed's covers. Just before he leaves he kisses your forehead so gently it's all you can do not to cry.

"I think your phantom might be closer than you think." He murmurs against your skin and leaves you to sleep, tucking you under a mysteriously familiar red cloak as soon as your eyes are well and truly closed.

Riddle

"You will be too tired to do anything after the ball, so make sure to shower and go directly to bed."

It was good advice based off of a reasonable assumption, and technically you were not in fact physically doing anything. You were also quite tired, you had expected to spend most of the ball on the outskirts observing the display of feathers and paints but that was far from what actually happened. You don't think you had ever danced in your life as much as you had in the past six hours. It would be extremely reasonable to assume that after scrubbing yourself free of makeup and sweat you would be down for the count.

But you weren't. Your mind was running a mile a minute, eyes constantly glancing at your phone on your nightstand. It's an odd feeling, wanting to call someone and not being able to. It is also a feeling you have become deeply familiar with, the ache it produces might as well be permanently woven into your heart, you should be immune to the pain at this point.

This time though, this time the person you want to call could theoretically be within reach. This person was someone you could touch, someone you could hold, someone whose touch still lingered against your hands.

The little knight was just as awkward as you were, if he didn't immediately stutter out a protest you would have thought he was just as inexperienced with the whole formal party thing as you were.

"I know what I'm doing I just-"

"Then can you show me how to dance? I've been practicing but I'm not great at it." He stares at you, and you are worried you said something wrong until he laughs, it sounds smug you think but you can't be sure.

"That's the proper way to ask for a dance." He takes your hand in his as he bows, kissing it so gently you half think it was your imagination. "This is."

You pick up your phone before it buzzes, immediately sitting up in shock when you see just who is messaging you at 3:30 am on a Friday.

[Riddle] Are you still awake prefect?

[Yuu] Ace is that you.

[Yuu] I'm not covering for you if Riddle finds out you took his phone again (¬_¬)

[Riddle] What do you mean again?

The little knight's dance is stiff at first, but he relaxes as you continue. He has been guiding you to the center of the room, you belatedly realize. You must have looked frightened once you did. "It would be rude to stay in the corner during the slower songs." He squeezes your hand to bring your attention back to him. "It isn't against the rules to be bad at dancing, but it is to monopolize other people's space."

"Aren't you doing that right now?" You tease and he stops leading you, almost as if he hadn't even considered that.

"Are you not enjoying yourself?" He almost sounds afraid and you find yourself having to take over the direction of your movements.

"I didn't say that." Your knight almost seems to grow ten feet tall at your praise before he becomes aware of himself again and gets a bit bashful. But he does not take over again, content to let you set the pace of your dancing for the rest of the night.

[Riddle] Actually disregard that. Since you are awake, would you mind coming to your window? I understand throwing rocks is considered romantic but breaking a window would be most unfitting behavior for a housewarden.

You are tempted to tell him you are waiting for a message from someone else, but the unusual behavior has you at your window before you can even full form the thought. You almost drop your phone at the sight you see below you.

Riddle expected to have difficulty making eye contact with you. He expected to be teased about his failure to follow his own good advice, his costume has got to be a mess between the dancing he did with you earlier and the pacing he did once he got back to Heartslabyul.

But neither of those happen. Neither matters, instead you see him and the familiar scrap of paper you had given him with your number and a heart and fly down the Ramshackle steps into his outstretched arms.

"I'm so glad it was you I danced with tonight."

[blues824]

ASDFGHJLLCNDLWMSNSCJJDLWKEMAMAMXNCBCJDJAOWIRJDKDK IM SO EXCITED FOR FLUFF-CEMBER OMGGGGGG!!!!!

(also, Lowkey so flattered that you consider me a ✨mutual✨ because you are an INCREDIBLE fanfic writer~)

Okay, so, Hear 👏 Me 👏 Out 👏! The Scarabia Boys and maybe Ruggie (or one of the other boys from the savannah) for prompt 28..... But what if it was reversed???? Because I'm someone that's from an area that has really cold and long winters, so I'm pretty good at spotting or catching myself on black ice..... But these guys from hot desert areas??? I just /know/ they haven't gotten used to the ice and snow yet-

But I'm just spit balling! Feel free to stick to the original, cuz it's still pretty cute!! Can't wait to read all the beautiful, adorable, amazing fics that come from this event!!!! Make sure not to overwhelm yourself or get burnt out. Take plenty of breaks and remember we can always wait an extra day or two lol 💋✨💋💕💖💘❤️🥰😍🥳🌹🫶🫰🌹🥴

I HOPE YOU HAVE FUN WRITING AND I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU DOOOOOOOOOO~~

Of course!!! You’ve commented on a few of my works, so I figured you might like to be included in the event lol. Also, I would be in their shoes, because I am from a hot desert area lol.

You requested: Being Caught Slipping on Ice [Reversed]

Ruggie Bucchi

He had absolutely no idea what he was thinking, being on the ice. This man has a vice grip on your arms as you both go to Sam’s Shop. The sidewalk and grass have become icy because it has been raining for the past few days, and the temperature has dropped significantly. Savanaclaw isn’t this cold, and he’s bundled up pretty well.

There was one spot that was a tad wet, still frozen in ice, and he wasn’t paying attention. You felt him let go of your arm, and you turned to see that he was falling backwards. Worried about him hitting his head, you quickly slid on your knees so that his head would land in your lap.

“Is it just me, or did an angel come down and save me?”

Real smooth, bro. You rolled your eyes and smiled, making sure that he was alright and helping him back up, going to place a kiss on his cheek which made him smile. He reciprocates by moving just in time for you to accidentally land it on his lips, and he snickered as you rolled your eyes once again.

Kalim Al-Asim

His homeland is literally the Scalding Sands. If you think he knows how to handle snow, you would be mistaken. However, he has a very positive outlook on it. It’s a free Slip-n’-Slide, or he gets to be a penguin sliding on his stomach. When it comes to having to walk, however, he is at a loss. One step and he’s already fallen. He needs one of those walkers that people use when skating.

Watching you walk across the black ice so easily made him feel so amazed, and he thought that if he copied you exactly, he would be fine. He was wrong, and he fell back almost immediately. Before he hit the ground, however, he felt an arm wrap around his waist. He looked up to find you, with a worried look on your face.

“Thank you, Y/N! You saved me!”

The smile on his face made any memory of scolding him dissipate as you made sure that he was steady. You then taught him how to properly walk on the black ice, as there was a particular method to it. Making sure your body was straight and stepping down so that the sole of your foot was flat against the ground, and it was weird to get used to, but at least he didn’t fall more than he did.

Jamil Viper

His homeland is the Scalding Sands as well. However, he knows how to handle snow more than Kalim does. He was prepared when he got accepted into NRC. But, nothing could prepare him for the ice that forms on the grass and on the sidewalks. After all, his sports training takes place in a gymnasium, so the temperature is warm and controlled by a thermostat. 

So, when he invited you to come play on an outside basketball court, you laughed when he realized that it had a bit of ice on the ground. Because you used to live somewhere with a cold climate, you were familiar with playing a certain way so that you wouldn’t slip and fall. He was not, and after a few moments, he slipped. Luckily, you slid behind him so that you could hold him up.

“Thank you, Y/N. I guess I have not acclimated quite yet to the ice…” He said, a bit embarrassed.

You shrugged and said it was all alright, and that you could do it because you lived somewhere cold. You taught him how to walk and run on the ice, and that he needed to have his hands out of his pockets at all times so he could catch himself. It was good advice even if it wasn’t freezing outside, as you never knew when you would fall.

[appocalipse]

just you — steve harrington

summary: you and steve shared a kiss at a party, and it was supposed to be just that: a meaningless kiss. but now that you've got a date, steve is starting to see things a bit clearer... prompt: "tell me what you want" "you" ♥

—

“Steve?” you say, unable to hide your bewilderment.

It's getting late and you have a date. Not with Steve Harrington, of course. But still, Steve Harrington is the one standing outside your door, looking as handsome as ever — bright eyes, dark jeans, perfect hair. It's some kind of punishment, it must be.

“Hi,” he says. "Can I come in?"

He looks nervous. On autopilot, you step to the side so he can come in and ask, “Is everything okay?” and, because it's Hawkins, you add, "Did something happen?"

Something equals problems from other dimensions, monsters, gates, planets in need of saving — the usual.

You close the door and Steve holds up both hands, a placating gesture. "No, no! It's okay- I mean…”

Your heart starts to race again. "Are the kids-"

"They're fine! That's not it."

About a week ago, you'd kissed Steve Harrington. It happened at a party — a stupid game, a couple of drinks, some unresolved feelings on your part…the damage was done.

You're thinking about it now because even though you both agreed to forget about the kiss, after that unexpected event all the silences shared with him took on a whole new meaning. It's an eternal 'is he thinking about the kiss?', 'did he like the kiss?' and the usual: 'did he regret the kiss?'.

“You look beautiful.”

You look at Steve and all you can think about is how your expression must look really, really silly right now — somewhere between embarrassment and nervousness, your inner teenager saying hello, I'm still not immune to Steve Harrington as much as I like to pretend I am.

He's looking at you as well, and your find comfort in the fact that he looks nervous too — you're dressed up for a date: you've chosen your best dress, your best jewelry, your best shoes. Steve has never seen you so lovely.

“I mean, you always look beautiful but-” he continues, scratching the back of his head, speaking very fast, “b-but tonight you're just, uh…stunning. Honestly.”

You bring your hand to the pendant around your neck and squeeze it lightly, lips parted in surprise, words a mess inside your mind and oh my God, here comes the awkward silence.

“Thanks.”

Thanks?

You try again. “You wanna tell me what you're-”

“Don’t go on that date.”

You'd sooner expect a gate to the Upside Down to open before your very eyes than this. “What?”

“I said don’t-”

“I heard you.”

“Then…please don’t go.”

Please? Is he real? Steve shouldn't be allowed to look like this and say please like that.

You fight the voice of reason in your head and try to keep your inner teenager from getting too excited with where this is going.

“Why not?” you ask.

“You know why not.”

I don't know shit, you want to say. The silence isn't even awkward now — it's overwhelming. The room seems way too tiny, Steve is too close, and you're feeling hot. And Jack could arrive at any moment —the icing on the cake.

“I- Do you-” pretty eloquent, you think, gesturing exasperatedly without even realizing it. It's a miracle you don't run your hand through your hair and ruin it entirely. “You can’t just-”

Steve wisely says nothing. He just stands there, slightly flushed, all too handsome. There's a small part of you that inexplicably wants to punch him in the face.

You sigh. “Tell me what you want,” you manage.

Steve responds as if he has the answer on the tip of his tongue, as if it's been there all along, as if it's obvious.

“You,” he whispers. There's a softness in his brown eyes, the usual gentleness, the usual affection, and you lose yourself deep enough that you don't notice the distance closing between you and him. He grows more confident, more sure of his words, his gaze never leaving yours, “You, I just want you.”

Steve takes another step and now he's close enough to touch you...so he does. He takes your face in his hands, firm but a little hesitating, testing the waters.

Your earrings dangle elegantly as you stare at him, dangerously close to short-circuiting. Steve watches as one of them taps against your cheek softly.

You could kiss him, you think. The heels you're wearing would make it so much easier. You could just lean over and...

Steve gently touches your lower lip with the pad of his thumb, eyes following the movement; a silent question. Your mind goes blank. You exhale through your mouth, lips now slightly parted. Your hands slide to his elbows, suddenly feeling the need to hold onto something as he inches closer.

Jack is a nice guy — he's always been kind to you, he's smart and very patient, handsome enough to attract a few glances now and then.

His only flaw is...he's not Steve.

And the only reason you agreed to go out with him is because you were trying to forget about Steve. Steve, Steve, Steve. It's always him. More unfair than standing Jack up would be going on a date with him for the wrong reasons.

You close the gap. To be honest, you don't think too much about what your doing; it kinda happens. And Steve certainly wasn't expecting it to happen like this either, because for a brief moment his entire body tenses up and he lets out a surprised gasp…but then he moves. You feel his smile against your mouth as he kisses you back, one hand leaving your face to move down to your lower back and bring you even closer, the kiss growing harder, more tempting, more certain.

You don't even notice you're moving until your back hits the wall and Steve presses you against it, chuckling into your mouth.

“Steve,” you gasp, the inexplicable urge to laugh suddenly washing over you. He tries to kiss you again but you're attempting to catch your breath, so you turn your head away and giggle. Steve kisses your neck instead, taking your waist into his hands. "I should call Jack," you remind him.

"Later?" he murmurs tentatively against your skin.

“It'll be just- oh. Ten minutes.”

One last kiss and he lets you go. You miss his touch right away.

But it's alright, you think. You have the entire night. Your entire lives.