#sometimes you forget the saying and make a mistake

[mooningningg]

notes, I can smell the requests from a mile away.

genre. smut, MINORS DNI!

★ Roommate!Sukuna after crossing a line as roommates.

You weren’t stupid.

You knew what happened that night on the couch wasn’t just about heat. It was months of tension breaking open — long stares, petty fights, tight silences that dragged on too long, and finally, him, on your lips and in your throat like he’d been dying for it.

You thought maybe it would stop there.

A one-time mistake. A line crossed, then never spoken of again.

But then came the next morning.

You were in the kitchen, groggy and still wearing his damn t-shirt. Sukuna walked in, shirtless, scratched red from your nails, hair a mess. He looked at you for exactly one second before pulling you in by the waist and kissing your neck without a word.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he whispered, “C’mere,” and dropped to his knees again — right there by the fridge.

Didn’t even ask.

Didn’t need to.

That became routine.

A few nights later, it was the kitchen again. You were making ramen, talking on the phone, completely unaware of him watching you from the doorway with that expression — dark, hungry, smug.

The second you hung up, he was on you. Bent over the counter, shirt yanked up, mouth on you like he hadn’t tasted anything all day. You came shaking against the cabinets, one hand gripping the edge of the sink, the other shoved into his hair.

He didn’t say anything after. Just smirked, tapped your thigh, and told you to finish your noodles.

No sex. Not yet.

It wasn’t some agreement you made. It just hadn’t happened. He hadn’t pushed. You hadn’t offered.

But everything else? Fair game.

Showers together? Happening.

You’d be rinsing shampoo out of your hair, and he’d slip in behind you, hands on your waist like he owned the space. He’d press lazy kisses to your shoulder while lathering your soap onto your skin — never crossing the line, but toeing it so hard you sometimes had to leave the shower early just to breathe.

You tried to play it cool.

Tried to act like you weren’t thinking about his mouth constantly, like your legs didn’t shake when he brushed past you in the hallway, like your thighs didn’t clench whenever he muttered something low and smug in your ear.

But the switch flipped when you brought up boundaries.

It was casual. You were sitting on the couch, scrolling. He sat beside you, hand on your thigh — not doing anything, just there. Like it belonged.

You cleared your throat. “We should talk.”

He didn’t look up from his phone. “Talk about what?”

“This whole… situation. Whatever we’re doing. We should set some boundaries.”

That got his attention.

Sukuna glanced over at you, lazy smirk forming. “Boundaries?”

“Yeah. Like… no jealousy. No acting like this is something it’s not.”

He laughed.

Actually laughed.

“Right,” he said, nodding like he was agreeing with you. “Not a relationship.”

You felt a knot twist in your chest.

But you didn’t argue. You just said “right” and got up to make tea.

That should’ve been the end of it.

Except it wasn’t.

Because two days later, Sukuna showed up outside your job.

Not just waiting outside — leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed, eyes scanning the sidewalk like a bodyguard with a grudge.

You blinked. “Did I ask you to pick me up?”

He looked you up and down, unimpressed. “Didn’t feel like waiting for you to Uber through creeps.”

The next day, it was his hand on your lower back when you were out shopping. The next, it was his arm slung around your waist in public. Then it was him glaring down a barista who complimented your smile.

You finally snapped.

“You’re being weird.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

You turned to face him in the hallway, arms crossed. “You said it’s not a relationship.”

“It’s not.”

“So why are you acting like my boyfriend?”

He shrugged, completely unfazed.

“Just making sure you don’t forget who you’re fucking.”

Your jaw dropped.

He stepped closer, mouth curling into a smirk, voice dropping low.

“Or do you want someone else to find out how good your legs shake when I’ve got my tongue in you?”

You shoved his shoulder. “Sukuna.”

He just grinned, eyes dancing. “What? I’m being respectful. Not like I’ve fucked you. Yet.”

You hated how your breath hitched at the word.

He stepped even closer, brushing hair out of your face with one ringed hand.

“When I do, though…” he whispered, voice like sin, “boundaries won’t save you.”

Then he kissed your cheek — slow, deliberate — and walked away.

Just like that.

Leaving you hot, bothered, and one hundred percent aware that your situationship had stopped being casual the second he got your taste in his mouth.

Taglist, @humeysaga @williamafton26 @aranisbaee @probablynotleahhhh @probablynotleahhhh. @beaniesayshi @levifiance @rinofcike @fushiguroooozzz @gojoscumslut @bellsoftheball @kunascutie. @after-laughter-come-tears. @minasuniverse, @chewiebee @ilovebeansya @drowsysausagedog, @shroomysstuff, @angel4-miba @paperalphys.

[alexanderlightweight]

Normally in almost every dark malec fic i read magnus is written as cruel towards alec,he hates alec (either it's based on the books or tv show i guess cause alec made mistakes in both that caused their break up)

And magnus literally tortures alec but is friendly towards alec's family members which i find odd

And this isn't a shade to those fics while i don't like what's happening in some of those stories i read them like and addict or just stop reading it if it bacomes too much for me

İ love that while you write dark and gore you still make magnus in love with alec

so i feel like it might be because i write dark malec to highlight their love? like the whole appeal of malec for me is you have these two people who really have no reason to be interested or so deeply affected by each other but they are.

there's something instinctive and primal and so intense it immediately cracks through years (decades in Magnus' case) of protective walls for the both of them.

i feel like a some people in fandom tend to forget or ignore that this is alec's first romantic/sexual relationship and that its not like he has a lot of friends either. magnus is also his first confidant out of his family.

and then others or the same people also either forget or ignore that while magnus has had a lot of relationships, opening up his heart to others has rarely gone well. like he has centuries of scars and wounds on his heart and soul. it's been one raw and reopened scar never fully healing and yet magnus decided to take the risk of that wound refestering.

so you have someone who has never opened up their heart (but its been wounded and sore all the same) but wants to because this person is worth it to them. and you have another person who has repeatedly opened up their heart (to sometimes catastrophic results) but they think maybe this person is worth the risk.

so both sides are taking risks. just in different ways. which makes it intense and take effort and also hard.

also since the appeal for me (yes as an aro/ace i too think this is hilarious) is their interest and adoration of each other, it doesn't really make sense to me to write it otherwise? like the whole thing of canon is they are mutually awestruck by each other. that's what really hits me. also the intensity of both of them orbiting around each other. i can't write them disliking each other. even when they're on opposite ends of the battlefield they have mutual or at the very least begrudging respect for each other even before they meet. and after they meet its pretty much alec is like 'how to end war? how to flirt with handsome magic man? how to stop bigotry so i can date a warlock? patricide unacceptable answer apparently' and magnus is all 'how to obliterate the clave' 'how to force peace and also change laws' 'how to woo angel blood without being stabbed' 'how to kidnap someone politely? 'how to heal if you're stabbed with adamas while acquiring future spouse?'

and for the type of fics you're talking about i have seen them and kinda know what you're talking about. i'm not gonna say anything about them tho because i have no actual relevant opinion. i don't read them because they'll trigger me (hence why my opinion would be adversely influenced, meaning i have a pre-existing bias which needs to be considered) and everyone is free to write what they want. there's no shame in that.

i just learned a long time ago that i could accidentally self-harm by reading fics that triggered me and my health cannot take more stress, so i just block authors (doesn't hurt them and protects me). same with how i hope people block or at least ignore me if my fics aren't safe or healthy for them to interact with.

so focusing just on me (which wow does that sounds kinda silly as it type i out) i guess it's because even when magnus is cruel in my fics there is a purpose to his cruelty? he's not cruel for the sake and enjoyment of it like say, Camille, Lilith, Asmodeus etc.

Magnus has been shown to always be harshest on himself as well. Like even in a world where he follows incredibly skewed ethics, i feel like just pure cruelty is too boring for him. Like he would expect better of himself, not necessarily on a moral standpoint but in a 'really, you think i humble myself to the same level as my father?' kind of way?

also there is also a whole section that can be talked about where certain forms of cruelty and kindness are actually two sides of the same coin. so there is some nuance there as well about how i handle cruelty because sometimes magnus is cruel in order to be kind but that's typically still, out of his love for alec even if it's skewed. or he does something out of his own sense of kindness that is technically cruel. magnus' goal is never to fully diminish alec in any fic i write, even the fics where magnus (because alec is also a manipulative little shit in fics) is manipulating alec or purposefully pushing buttons he knows are cruel, he's doing it to help (in his opinion) free alec from ties/the clave/things that 'don't deserve/are hurting/could hurt him/might keep alec from him' etc.

the goal is never to hurt alec. it's to save him and sometimes in order to heal, you need to experience pain. which is how magnus and alec both justify their cruelty to themselves and each other often. especially because again, the goal is ultimately the benefit of the other person.

i think the main thing is that there's never any doubt - or at least i try to make sure there isn't - in my fics that they both want each other and the best for each other. maybe it comes about in a darker or less ethical way in some of my fics, but the main purpose of the plot is never to hurt each other or to inflict damage that will linger and wound.

also malec in generally is an unreliable narrator in my fics. the reason i tag 3DNE even in the lower levels of dark range, is because i i write and promote extremely unhealthy levels of codependency, dom/sub dynamics and obsession that cannot safely exist in the same levels in the real world. i also write about intense topics but i generally do it in... not a sanitized way? but a softer way? so i think some of it gets a little smoothed out by the humor/affection/etc which also like, this kinda of behavior shouldn't be normalized or seen as safe. i'm not promoting actual cannibalism or kidnapping someone to be your spouse lol

and again (because i get similar comments on ao3) is that when I write malec my goal is for them to be happy and healthy even if the world they live in isn't and by normal standards their relationship isn't. i want them delighting in each other and even if it's depraved, doing whatever they can to give each other the best of the world and help them be the strongest version of the person.

i just have very specific preferences and tbh i repeat tropes and cliches and my little happy niche a lot because i know what i'm comfortable with and enjoy. also i have the personal preference of two predators maybe not always equally matches but both incredibly dangerous in their own way, meeting and then creating an ecosystem that works for the two of them. i also like gifted/earned submission rather than purely forced?

and it's shown in the show that Magnus mostly helped everyone because 1) to get them to stop stalking him and endangering his people 2) to keep appraised of the situation and 3) Alec. which might actually have been the main one. and Magnus' heart got cracked open from Alec and he started to make friends with those around Alec trying to get closer (the jokes and present to Izzy).

I feel like Magnus wouldn't really care orhave anything to do with them or be very interested or so generous with them other than information reasons. and without alec, i don't think his heart would have thawed enough. in a way, alec makes magnus more vulnerable than either realize and it's not alec's fault.

but it is a result of Magnus meeting and loving alec and because alec doesn't realize this, he often can't step in and help magnus set boundaries magnus stopped making in his journey to woo alec. so in fics where magnus already has a relationship with alec or doesn't need to 'woo the family' so to speak, he generally doesn't open up to them or try to connect with them the same way.

in some ways, this is Magnus distancing himself because he will want to be able to join alec when (because i only write immortal husbands) he mourns them, but also he's not going to be overwhelmed with grief himself.

i got way off track there.

so if you know about the Addams' Family media, which this eldritch delight is based off the vibes of that, i feels like that's what true dark romance is. however it did get a bit sanitized and played up for comedy, so actually just a lot of my malec is inspired by that intensity but without the sanitizing and so much comedy.

i mean. these two are so intense about each other.

Alec summoned a greater demon. Magnus tried to erase his own memories.

They are not well, okay? they are two dumb men in love. they both are super high intl and high wis until it comes to each other and then their wisdom drops to 'i'm going to destroy everything to make this one thing right!' and typically its for the other person, so the only being who could stop them now can't.

i hope this makes sense? i feel like i rambled a bit much and now i'm not even sure i properly answered the ask but i enjoyed the ask?

like... i just really can't imagine magnus being more than like, bitingly petty and sassy and sarcastic to alec and like threateningly yes?

but like even if alec was on the other side in a more intense universe and magnus was the one interrogating him. magnus would just pause in the middle of threatening alec and be like 'it's a pity you're so pretty. i can think of so many things i'd rather hear from you than your screams of pain.'

and alec is just like: please go back to threatening me. if you compliment me i'll break and that's just not fair. this is both the worst and best time of my life right now.

magnus picking up on that and coming back in his most dangerous flirty outfit and sitting on the table in front of alec, legs spread to accommodate the chair alec's sitting on and alec is just like: can you bring out the potions again? or the fireball? i really miss the snake that breathed fire omg please don't get so close i will never live it down if i break because a magical man kissed me

magnus: but imagine what i could give you if you were good for me? wouldn't you rather be a good boy for me, alexander?

alec - fuck the clave they dont even like me, i definitely don't have a weakness for this man and a praise kink that just activated - lightwood: ... okay yeah. lets get this over with please. i want to collect on that promise.

*shrugs?*

i hope this makes sense and you enjoyed

<3 lumine

tldr: the whole reason i love malec is because they adore each other and i'm incapable of writing them otherwise plus rambling.

[kings-highway]

Hi! Re the prompts - kagehina - #1 (imagining it’s Hinata’s palm). Tsukkiyama - #58 (thinking about this in context of the situation you described in another post where yamaguchi has finally recovered from pining for Yachi). 💜

AAAAA!!! Such cute prompts for both 🤍🤍 they're all so so silly I LOVE them. Also love the excuse to play with the little Yamaguchi headcanon :D

--- #1 -Kagehina 1

They play well. (They always play well.)

They’re tired after the game. Kageyama struggles to coordinate arms that now feel like noodles to pull his sweatshirt over his head, blinking sleepy eyes and reminding himself over and over again that he just needs to make it through an hour or so, and then he can go to bed. 

Hinata still, somehow, has energy. But he’ll crash in ten minutes, when he sits down. Kageyama follows him out, listening to him chatter about the game, and their plays. They drop into a seats beside each other on the bus, and listen to the coach shouting praise and good work at them. Hinata’s crash begins to hit him, and he half closes his eyes as he looks at Kageyama. 

“You never compliment me,” he complains. “I played amazing and you never even compliment me.”

“I’ll compliment you when you do something worth complimenting,” Kageyama replies, which makes Hinata scoff and hit at him. Kageyama almost smiles, getting whacked, before snapping a hand out and catching Hinata’s wrist to stop the assault. 

“It’s no fair! You’re supposed to be my boyfriend, aren’t you? I deserve a boyfriend who sometimes supports me, don’t I?” 

“You’re so whiny,” Kageyama mutters, before turning Hinata’s hand over, to lift up and gently kiss his palm. “Good job. You played well.” 

Hinata stares at him, making an odd little noise of alarm as if suddenly overwhelmed by even the smallest affections. Kageyama lifts his eyes to watch Hinata’s face slowly turn first pink, and then hot red, eyes widening. 

“You asked,” Kageyama says, at the same time Hinata yanks his hand away and turns around to hide under his school jacket.

“You’re not supposed to do it like that!” Hinata complains. 

--- #2 -Tsukkiyama 58

They’re trying to throw a surprise birthday party for Kageyama, which Yamaguchi realizes is going to be a terrible idea way too late, so they’re stuck in it now. Whatever. He tries not to know that Kageyama will hate a surprise party, and commits to decorating a living room he doesn’t live in. 

“Okay, okay, he’s coming back!” Yachi shouts, hurrying in from the other room. “Miwa just texted me… okay, everyone, hide! Hide! Someone hit the lights! Go go go-”

The team and participating surprises panic and run around. Hinata dives behind a couch, Yachi slips behind a curtain, a handful of the first years panic and lay flat on the floor. Before Yamaguchi can panic and forget to make a decision, Tsukki has grabbed him by the arm, and tugged him into a tiny linen closet. 

For a minute, everything is okay. Tsukki hisses and complains about the metal shelves digging into his back, and Yamaguchi agrees it’s a really terribly small closet, and they both, at the same time, move forward to escape the shelves, and-

Yamaguchi finds himself pressed up against Tsukki, one of his knees finding a place between his own, warm and solid and now all Yamaguchi is thinking about is body pressure and heat. 

Tsukki puts a hand on his arm, and it feels like electricity. 

“Should have picked a better spot - sorry,” Tsukki mumbles. All Yamaguchi can do is make a strangled noise of agreement, face slowly burning hotter as he wraps his mind around how much he liked being pressed against Tsukki like this. 

He makes the mistake of looking up, and finds Tsukki is already looking down at him. It’s dark, and Yamaguchi can barely make out the details of his face, but he realizes he could probably rise up onto his toes and kiss him. It would be really easy - their lips are barely a few inches apart. Kissing Tsukki would probably be weird, but… his lips might be soft. And he might respond by putting his hands on Yamaguchi’s back, which… pressed against each other as they were, would feel… really good.

He feels his breath catch in his throat, overwhelmed now with a series of fantasies of lips against his own, hands on his body. Eighteen year old hormones are raging in the tight confines of his closet, and he things for a second that he’s going to light on fire if he doesn’t have Tsukki on him right now.

And then Yamaguchi realizes what he’s thinking about. 

Tsukishima Kei. 

His best friend. 

Yamaguchi wanted to be ravished in this closet by Kei.

Oh fuck.

His face burns hot immediately, he tries to back up but those stupid metal shelves try and stab his spine and make him wince, forcing him back in tight proximity. Fuck. 

No, no, no, this is awful -

Yamaguchi had just had his heartbroken 365 days of the previous year trying to help Yachi feel confident with being who she was, he’d tried to be a good friend, he’d tried to be the best friend, she’d deserved that much, and now-

Now his stupid, cursed romantic brain was going to have him fantasizing about stripping his best friend and kissing him stupid? Now he was going to fall in love with the one person who had the power to break his heart as badly as Yachi had? 

Falling in love with Kageyama would have been more tolerable than this!

He makes an audible groaning noise, and Tsukishima shushes him. 

He tries to ignore all the body pressure. He tries to ignore the heat, and the proximity, and how badly he wanted him, and… well… how natural it felt. 

When he’s brave enough, he glances up at Tsukki again, though he’s peering through the slates in the closet door, waiting to see Kageyama enter. 

Tsukki. His best friend. 

In some ways, it… felt sort of right. After all, Tsukki was the only person Yamaguchi had never needed a break from. The person he felt safest around. He’d been the first person he told about his crush on Yachi, the only person who’d really cared about how badly he was heartbroken over her. 

He just… wished it wasn’t Kei.

There’s a key in the locked door. Tsukki smiles slightly, glancing down at Yamaguchi and, this time, it’s not quite as suddenly terrifying, and he kind of likes indulging in the closeness. The familiarity. It is, after all, still his best friend.

“I hope we scare him so badly he screams,” Tsukki says, and it makes Yamaguchi snicker, and nod, smiling back at him. 

“I bet we will,” he assures him, before Tsukki looks away again to put a hand out and get ready to push open the door. 

Okay. Well, maybe it being Kei wouldn’t be so bad. 

[kettleworth]

Sugar Kisses - A Susie x Ralsei Fanfic

Wrote a cute, fluffy little fic based on a comic by @myvermilioneyes because it's so damn adorable that it makes me feral. Go check them out!

...god damn it. He was being overly humble again. Even in one of their few moments of relaxation and downtime, Ralsei was still putting himself down.

It was subtle this time around. He wasn't so naive that he would keep acting like an overly innocent idiot baby around everyone else. It was obvious that the Prince was more than capable of intense magic, building, leadership (when necessary), and learning from his mistakes, whenever possible. Ralsei could look out for himself.

...but he didn't; that is what pissed Susie off the most.

Ralsei invited Kris and her – as well as Lancer and a few other Darkner pals – to a lighthearted get-together the next time the two Lightners paid Castle Town a visit. At first, the party was fun! The energy was high as many of her pals shared tea, finger sandwiches, and an enormous vanilla-frosted strawberry cake between each other. Of course, Elnina and Lanino spent most of their time making disgustingly sweet kissy-faces and murmuring sweet nothings to each other to really pay attention to everyone else. Susie chose to ignore them, for the most part, for no other reason than it made her want to puke up her tea and food. Envy? What the fuck was that?

At least Lancer was a good enough distraction, as he provided multiple laughs. Not just to Susie, but to the entire table. He bounced around from spot to spot, barely able to keep his butt in his 'designated chair'. This wasn't unexpected of the young Darkner, and Rouxl's attempts at keeping him calm only made matters more chaotic. It didn't help that he never sat in a seat, either.

'Can this guy even use his ass for anything other than standing?' Susie pondered, already polishing off her slice of cake before Ralsei even finished serving everyone their portions. If it were just her, Kris, and Ralsei, she'd already be reaching for seconds. Since this obviously wasn't the case – and because she didn't want to make a scene in front of Nubert – she quickly decided against it, opting to join in on conversation while sipping – okay, slurping – her tea. She was surprised at how sweet it happened to taste, even without her adding anything to her cup. 'Okay... does Ralsei only know how to make sweet stuff?!' She thought, absentmindedly listening in on the current topic. She wasn't complaining, of course.

She shouldn't have been too surprised with Ralsei proving, yet again, that he was a very excellent host, yet the fact that she only saw him take one singular bite of cake in between small, polite sips of tea caused her to forget about literally everything else. After all, the Prince elicited an extremely cute expression of enjoyment as he ate his own culinary creation. Why didn't he eat more of it?!

...what? So she kept track of how much Ralsei ate. So what?

Susie attempted to keep thoughts of the infuriatingly cute Prince out of her mind as she interacted with everyone. Kris was always dozens – if not hundreds – of laughs. They even taught Ralsei a few rude jokes to repeat sometime! Most of which involved the infamous “man from Nantucket”.

“K-kris!” Ralsei gasped at one point, hiding his muzzle with his scarf as everyone else howled with laughter. “H-how crude! I can't say that word!”

“Ho ho ho!” Lancer laughed uproariously, reaching an arm around the flustered goat boy. “Let Daddy Lancer help you, Toothpaste Boy!”

“...Daddy WHO?” Kris repeated suddenly, obviously shocked with the sentence. They began to double over in their chair, barely able to hide back their snickers as they held their stomach. Susie was... less subtle, pounding the table as she let loose immense bursts of laughter. Porcelain clattered and clanked as she did so, though thankfully didn't cause more damage. Aside from spilling her own teacup off the side. Clearly, she was far too amused to even worry about the hot liquid falling near her lap.

“BWAHAHA! YUH-YEAH- AHAHA! C-c'mon, 'Daddy' Lancer, tell us the word we shouldn't say!”

Throughout all of this, Rouxls merely watched with a semi-concerned expression, peering over at Ralsei as they stammered in confusion. “...huh? Uh... I don't think 'Daddy Lancer' should be saying that word, either!”

'Oh god, he doesn't know!' Susie thought, wheezing at this point as she gripped the tablecloth tightly with her left hand. 'FUCK me, Ralsei, you gotta talk to Queen more often!' It was weird to think that Ralsei knew what 'that word' meant, but didn't know the connotation behind 'Daddy'. Selective knowledge, she figured.

“Hey, don't worry!” Lancer continued, clearly enjoying the raucous laughter and attention he was receiving from his friends. “Lesser Dad has given me a whole list of tier four swears I shouldn't repeat! And this one seems like the most fun! Listen!” The young boy stated, clearing his throat before taking an incredibly deep inhale, puffing out his cheeks as he readied himself to scream the word in question.

“...CUN-”

“LANCER!” Rouxls Kaard interjected, suddenly slapping a hand over his mouth. A familiar 'SPLAT!' noise was elicited as he did so, though the tall, blue weirdo merely laughed with an uncomfortable tone. “Erm.... ahahah! Forgeteth everythinge he doth said! He knoweth not what he speaketh of!”

Within a second, however, Lancer retaliated against the lanky 'puzzle master' by chomping his thick, rounded teeth onto Rouxls' finger.

“...CHOMP!”

Rouxls let out a high pitched squeal, immediately letting go of the young boy's face as he ran away in a hyperactive, playful manner.

Naturally, the sight was more than enough to cause the three 'heroes of prophecy' loads of laughter. It was especially hilarious when the 'Duke Of Puzzles' began to chase after him, with an infuriated expression. “AAAAUUUGHH THOU... THOU WRETCHED CHILD!”

Within seconds, the 'Lesser Dad' started to play a one-sided version of 'Ring Around the Rosie' by chasing Lancer around the table. The two Lightners began to laugh at the sight, as did the 'Dark Prince', who was gripping his own teacup while pretending to not be.

“Hehehe! R-rouxls, stop! Y-you're ruining the t-tea party..!” Ralsei giggled heartily. Susie was quick to notice his feet kicking gleefully. Her cheeky smile became more subdued, pretending as if she hadn't noticed.

“I... am ruininge NOTHING!” He insisted, diving for the bouncy, bubbly boy. Obviously, he missed, causing Lancer to run straight out of the room, heading... elsewhere. “Tis be-eth this boye who squandereth our fun times!”

“Guess you'll hafta catch me to prove it, Lesser Dad!” Lancer called out, laughing louder as Rouxls grumbled even louder, chasing the smaller Darkner out of the room.

“AUGH! K-Kris! Dear friende! Mine fellow 'Puzzle Enjoyere!' S-surely thou will h-helpeth me on mine quest to capture thine bouncing baby boye... right?” Rouxls pleaded, already kneeling down and bowing his head as she begged to the human Lightner.

Susie watched as Kris let out a small laugh, wasting no time in standing on their feet, nodding eagerly. Not before grabbing their slice of Ralsei's cake and taking a large, eager bite of it. So large, in fact, that they might as well have finished it in one go. Susie was shocked... yet impressed. She felt as if Ralsei felt the same way, even as they started to follow the goofy, blue Darkner out of the room.

“S-splendid! Followe me, Sir Kris!”

“Ho ho ho!” Lancer's laugh echoed. “Two blues don't make a right, y'know!”

“LANCER! Stop teasingth me!” The so-called 'Duke of Puzzles' whined, being tailed by the human. By this point, many of the others had already left the room, either in playful pursuit of the young Darkner, or – in the case of Elnina and Lanino – 'other reasons'. Seeing the display, however, Susie couldn't help but immediately stand up from her seat, screeching the chair loudly.

“Yo, are we playing games now?!” She asked excitedly, her adrenaline rushing, ready to follow pursuit of the gangly, high-pitched Darkner.

“Oh, games? Please let me join!” Ralsei added in, standing up from his chair. Hearing this, Susie couldn't help but freeze up, watching as the goat stood up, ready to follow Kris. Leaving behind his portion of cake. His uneaten portion.

This is where Susie felt her earlier worries. Her frustrations. Games were fun, and everyone's enjoyment was palatable, but something stopped her. Was it her nerves? Her thoughts? Possibly. Before Ralsei could exit the combined bedroom that happened to belong to her and Kris, she spoke up.

“...Hey,” She started up, her voice a bit too loud for comfort. It was enough to stop Ralsei in his tracks, immediately facing the purple girl with both hands folded politely behind his back.

“...o-oh, sorry, Susie! Did you need something?” He asked happily, bearing a smile that she knew was less than genuine. Not that she'd tell him. She had her own agenda on her mind.

“Ralsei,” She started, her hair barely shadowing her eyes as she reached for his plate. Even up close, she could tell that his one, singular bite was less than satisfying for her wants. “You still didn't finish your cake.”

Without missing a beat, Ralsei closed his eyes, bouncing on his toes as he beamed eagerly – perhaps overly eagerly – to Susie. “It's okay! You can finish it!”

...fuck. FUCK. There he went again. Too humble to accept something. A gift. As usual. Even his own cooking wasn't safe from his selfish selflessness! Her seemingly neutral expression became more serious, boring into the Prince's pink eyes. Her gaze was... overly serious. Enough to throw him off guard. 'Wrong answer, bucko.'

“I ate mine, dumbass,” Susie replied with a steady, monotone voice. She didn't want to scare Ralsei away, after all. Her nerves wouldn't allow her to do so if she wanted to! Swearing came naturally to her, however, and the short, adorable prince didn't seem to react one way or the other.

'Just eat your damn cake already!' She yelled within the confines of her mind, growing more frustrated as Ralsei momentarily covered his muzzle with a sleeved hand. For a moment, Susie felt as if she was about to go feral. She knew this overly accommodating cutie-pie (where did that come from?!) would refuse her advances. Before he even had the chance, her smile became a bit wider. More... unhinged.

“...do you want me to goddamn spoon-feed you or somethin'?” Susie offered, half-joking as she began to sweat and blush. She'd sooner throw herself into a meat grinder than-

“Susie, I-” Ralsei stammered, alerting her attention. For a brief moment, she expected the usual Ralsei excuses.

'Nooo, it's too sweet, you eat it! Noooo, I made that for you and Kris! NOOOOOO, Kris would love eating that slice! Kris this, Kris that, Kris, Kris KRIS!' Susie thought, already starting to bite her lip. She nearly expected to start bleeding. Her hands trembled, ready to stand up and fetch the non-committal human.

That was until the supposed Prince froze up. His ears and cheeks began to flush darkly and deeply, rapidly at that. At first, Susie imagined she did something wrong, seeing Ralsei turn his body away from her tall, muscular frame.

“...Ralsei?” She asked, beginning to grow paranoid. The goat boy only shivered in place, his fingers attempting to grip his own hands tighter.

'...what the hell is he even thinking of right now?' Susie thought, starting to grow worried.

'YES? NO? YES, NO? NO, YES?!?' Ralsei thought to himself, attempting to hide his blushing face from Susie. God, this was such an embarrassing question! Did he need to be spoon-fed? No! Obviously not! He wasn't a moron! He knew how silverware worked!

...yet here was Susie. Tall, strong, intimidating, kind Susie. Asking if he needed to be fed! By HER?!

Ralsei's fantasies filled with the tall, purple girl, who was shoving spoon after spoon of his own cakes. A part of him wondered if she was requesting this because she wanted to make fun of him. To point and laugh and smear frosting on his fluffy fur while trying to make others look at her attempt of 'artistry'.

Most of him however... figured she'd 'do the right thing'. There was only one way to find out..

With his cheeks and ears glowing a deep, glowing pink, he clenched his eyes shut, burying his mouth within his scarf as he turned back around. It was so selfish of a request, and yet... the thought alone brought him joy. He was willing to take the chance. Before Ralsei could even begin to fight against his own want of joy, his mouth reacted faster than his brain, his head nodding violently. It was as if he had a dangerous, venomous bug on his head that he wanted to shake off.

“Yes! Y-yes..! Okay..! S-sure!” He yelped out, his voice pitched higher than was usually expected of the helpful young Prince. Being spoon-fed? Ralsei wouldn't go against this request! Not if someone else wanted to do this. Not if Susie wanted to do it.

Susie stared at him with a wide, shocked expression, apparently not even sure of what to do as she stared at the squirming, blushing goat boy. Even with his eyes shut tight, he knew he had said the wrong thing. Before he could bleat an apology, however, Susie let out a loud, bemused snort. At first, Ralsei thought she'd laugh cruelly at him. She'd deny him. 'WHAT THE FUCK, RALSEI?!' she'd yell, smearing cake into his snout. 'ARE YOU GODDAMN-'

“Okay, okay!” The real Susie laughed, barely able to hide her amusement as she stepped closer to the 'lonely prince'. Her left hand held his saucer of cake, while the right hand held a teeny tiny dessert spoon. The reptilian girl was surprisingly delicate with holding such small silverware. Susie's tone was still humorous, holding disbelief in Ralsei's reaction. “...what the hell is up with you?”

Ralsei chose not to answer, clenching his eyes tight before they teared up with embarrassment. His knees buckled, causing the prince to kneel on both knees before the larger, stronger, muscular girl. It was as if his body was succumbing to her rough tone. '...I feel so stupid and selfish!' Ralsei admitted to himself, beginning to anxiously clench the hem of his robes. 'Please, please just refuse this! Oh, h-how absolutely awful of me! No Lightner should ever bend their knee to-”

“Damn, quit nodding already!” Susie chuckled in disbelief, already kneeling on one knee as she stepped closer to the fluffy Prince of Darkness, readying a spoonful of vanilla-frosted strawberry cake. While clearly flustered, she was also somewhat... worried. “I'll help ya... just don't cry, arright?”

It was at this point that his nostrils took in the delicious scent of his own 'cooking', already feeling his stomach growling. Susie was already starting to push a spoonful of cake towards his mouth.

'THIS IS STUPID! WHAT THE HECK/HELL AM I DOING?!' Ralsei and Susie thought for a brief moment, before following through with each others' actions. This meant that Ralsei immediately chomped upon the spoon, chewing the cake and sucking the frosting off of the spoon in a dainty manner. The purple dragon girl watched, still in disbelief.

'..FUCK!' Susie thought, already pulling her spoon away and readying a second portion of baked goods to Ralsei. 'YOU'D BETTER STOP, OR ELSE I'LL... I'LL..!' She thought heatedly, biting her lips as the goat boy continued to excitedly eat every portion Susie fed to him.

Susie's thoughts froze, watching as Ralsei savored the flavor of frosting on the spoon in his mouth. It was as if it were a rare occasion. As if he weren't supposed to be doing this. His eyes were clenched closed as well, though his noises weren't avoidable.

“...mmh!” He exclaimed, sniffling somewhat. It almost appeared as if he were overwhelmed with emotions. From the way he squirmed, it was clear he was savoring each and every mouthful. The silver spoon clattered gently as he licked and chewed it clean.

“...and another one,” Susie offered gently, readying yet another spoonful of cake before gently pushing it forward. What the FUCK was she doing? A few days ago, the thought of spoon-feeding anyone would make her want to jump into the nearby lake. However, watching Ralsei eagerly munch upon spoonful after spoonful of baked goods only softened her up. She was on one knee, watching as the little nerd graciously savored his own cooking. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought he was... licking the spoon? “Tastes good, right?”

“Mhm,” Ralsei quickly answered, his voice muffled as he kept his eyes shut. His blush was growing deeper and deeper with each second. Naturally, Susie was quick to notice this, feeling equally as embarrassed as the goat was.

'STOP BEING SO GODDAMN CUTE!' She yelled within her mind, shivering and shuddering in place as she stared at Ralsei. Her spoon clattered against the saucer that held his cake, barely able to contain herself.

'Oh god, she must hate this,' The poor prince thought to himself, savoring and gulping down the overly sweet flavor of cake frosting. He might as well leave now, right? Surely, he had eaten enough at this point. Darkners didn't need this sort of treatment. They didn't deserve it. Did they? It didn't stop Susie from feeding him his own magical baking. 'Cut your loses, Ralsei..!' He thought momentarily, wondering if he should just dart for the doorway, chasing after Kris, Lancer, and Rouxls Kaard. 'Just join the others-'

Ralsei's thoughts were interrupted by another spoon of delicious, vanilla-strawberry cake entering his lips. He didn't even realize his mouth was open!

“...weirdo,” Susie huffed playfully, barely able to look away from the sight of what she was allowing to happen. Her tone was gruff, yet... delicate. Gentle. Loving.

...loving?! Where the fuck did THAT... well, why wouldn't this whole ordeal be loving? Here she was, feeding spoonful after spoonful of cake to a guy who didn't even think he deserved a bedroom. It was obvious to her that she had to harbor some sort of love to him. She certainly wouldn't be doing this for anyone else.

“...mhmm....” The submissive prince replied softly, agreeing with her previous statement. He was still in disbelief of what was happening, yet still accepting the actions of his words. Yeah, he was a 'weirdo'. If that was the case, however, he'd happily be a 'weirdo' forever. Whatever made Susie continue to show her kind, gentle affection to him. Ralsei kept his eyes shut as she continued, unsure if he could look into Susie's pretty face without feeling even more flustered than he did currently.

Susie felt somewhat fortunate that Ralsei's eyes were closed. Even if her moves were delicate and slow, it was clear that she was feeling a lot of pent up 'cuteness aggression,' something she never even knew she experienced! Her composure was growing weaker with each piece of cake fed to the fluffy boy, her purple cheeks burning darker and hotter than they've ever been. Her own body was starting to shudder, once again beginning to secretly argue with her instincts.

'He looks so damn happy... I think?! He hasn't pulled away yet...little guy loves this...' She pondered, watching Ralsei thoughtfully chew his current piece. Susie felt her hands shake nervously, a new, different idea spawning in her brain. '...no. This is a dumbass idea, NO. I don't even know if he'll like it!' Ralsei's sweetness was becoming too much for the supposed 'tough girl' to bear. Even when he wasn't trying, he still managed to turn her heart into mushy slop. Why did she love it so much?!

'Do you dare? Do you fucking dare?!' Susie thought, panicking inwardly as she began to bite her lip again.

“...'kay. A-another bite, comin' up,” She said aloud, her hushed voice surprisingly anxious. She quietly set the plate and spoon off to the side, steeling her nerves. 'Now or never..!'

“Uh huh...” Ralsei responded, equally as quiet. With his eyes still shut, he began to open his mouth, readying himself for another piece of cake. Instead of baked goods, however, the fluffy prince got a taste of something very unexpected. In his opinion, it was much better than cake.

Susie had shoved her face forwards, bumping her lips against Ralsei's and kissed him. As the girl held the smooch, his eyes shot open, incredibly surprised with this turn of events. His blush burned redder than apples and hotter than all of the stars in the sky, almost in disbelief of what was even happening! Susie's lips were pleasantly soft, and it only took a few moments before Ralsei found himself melting longingly into the tender moment.

“Mmmh..!” He exclaimed with a muffled squeak, his brain completely fried of any and all conscious thought that didn't have to do with the girl he was kissing.

'Can this boy get any fluffier? Even his damn lips are soft!' Susie mused, barely able to think straight as her stumpy tail began wagging like crazy behind her. She imagined that, if Ralsei had one too, it'd be doing the same (and it was).

A few seconds felt like a few hours, though finally the two pulled away. Their faces hovered merely a few inches away from each other's, both panting gently, looking into each other's eyes. It was as if the two were trying to gauge the other's reaction. The two were clearly flustered, though there was definitely a shared tenderness between them.

For a bit, neither one knew what to even say. Neither one had really kissed anyone before, nor did they expect to do that with each other. It was... pleasant. Ralsei finally found the nerve to whisper, “T-thank you...”

Susie slowly wrapped her left arm around the prince's back, slowly pulling him into an embrace as her other hand started to curl into his. “...want seconds?” She whispered back, her face still warm and comforting, yet still held remnants of a teasing smirk.

The answer came in the form of Ralsei initiating the kiss, this time, feeling a lot more prepared for the action. Susie was eager to follow through, closing her eyes as the two tenderly held and smooched each other. One kiss turned into two, then two into three, with each new kiss lasting longer and longer. The two felt incredibly safe and vulnerable with the other, and almost didn't want the moment to end.

Susie could still taste the sweet frosting on his tongue.

[heartmender]

meowrails

inspired by a real thing @teenrager said once

[egregiousderp]

We’re on day six straight of “wake up in the middle of the night/morning hypervigilant and struggle to sleep again” which means we’re reaching the season of Perma Tension and Overthink.

Can’t wait to get through the next two days of work so I can start my week of suspension.

[dallonwrites]

actually making my tags from my last post into their own post. writers who struggle with grammar, spelling, typos, errors etc i love you. writers who struggle with rereading their stuff thoroughly no matter how much they try, who don't always have access to other people to help them read i love you. whilst reading through and checking for these things is good practice i really believe that the weight of it should not be put wholly on the writer's shoulders. especially writers who are neurodivergent, disabled, have any condition that can impede their reading + comprehension, are overworked and overtired, are not writing in their native language, list goes on....because grammar mistakes/language mistakes/typos have nothing to do with your abilities as a creative. this is where editors should be uplifting writers, helping them, not scrutinising them for something they cannot always control

[shybreadgarden]

I get very awkward when people ask me my pronouns. Some of my best (worst) responses so far include “sure” and “doesn’t everyone?” But shoutout to my nutritionist because like an idiot I said “uhh whatever works for you.” And she gave me a -look- and said “they’re ~your~ pronouns. Whatever works for ~you.~”

[meowdei]

down the drain (literally) — ft. ryomen sukuna

female reader ; established relationship (engaged even!) ; modern bf sukuna ; slightly dramatic reader (she’s in shambles okay??) ; soft sukuna ; fluff

Sukuna is going to kill you.

For one, you’ve been in the bathroom for thirty minutes and he is clearly sick of it—the door handle rattling is proof enough. For another…well…your engagement ring is down the drain.

(Literally.)

You’re technically supposed to take it off when you wash your face just to be safe, but you get tired, and you forget here and there—mornings are always rough as it is. Sometimes, because you’re human, you forget. And it’s generally okay. Until it’s not.

Because your engagement ring is down the drain. (Literally.)

“God fuckin’ dammit woman,” he hisses, knocking on the door, “what are you doing in there? Open the damn door it’s been ages.”

“Just a second,” you call, panicking as you try to pull the drain plug out, but it doesn’t budge. Your fingers aren’t doing you any favors either—it feels like they’re the perfect size to not fit around anything to help you out here.

Your engagement ring is down the drain (literally) and there’s nothing to do but slowly bite your lip as tears collect at your lash line. So you open the door—and before Sukuna’s angry face can scold you any further, you’ve collapsed against his chest, soaking his bare chest with your tears.

“Wha—” he’s stunned. Stiff and standing there for a moment before he’s stuttering, “h-hey—I didn’t even yell at you that bad, what the fuck? Why’re you bein’ so—”

“I’m sorry, Kuna,” you sob, “please don’t be mad!”

“I’m mad but not that mad,” he says, bewildered. You sob harder at that, and his hands quickly find your hips and squeeze in panic at a poor attempt to reassure you. “Okay, okay! Not mad. Just…mildly annoyed. You’re…mildly annoying, better?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you wail.

“Okay! I got it! You’re havin’ a slow morning. Whatever, I waited. Can we just—”

“I didn’t think it’d slip off like that!”

“What’re you talkin’ about?”

“My ring,” you hiccup. He stills. You sniffle, pulling away and preparing yourself for his harsh, bitter anger as you whisper, “it fell down the drain.”

“What?” he looks at you, still confused. “What do you mean?”

“I w-was washing my face and then…and then—” you take a shuddering breath to try and work through your sobs before you continue, “it fell off and went down the drain! Now it’s in the sewers!”

“The sewers?”

“Yeah the pipes are gonna take it to the sewers!”

“I don’t think it’s in the sewers just yet—”

“And then the sewers will take it to the ocean and then I’ll never find it again!”

“The ocean is a long way from here—”

“I’m so, so, so sorry—”

“Oh my god, woman,” he grabs your cheeks, squeezing them together to shut you up as you stare up at him with wet, miserable, teary eyes. And he softens. Lets his shoulders fall a little as he sighs before rough thumbs are swiping at your cheeks less than gently, but more than in love. “’S just a ring.”

“It’s not just a ring,” you gasp, “it’s my engagement ring!”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs, “but we’re still engaged—”

“But now no one will know!”

“Then I’ll buy you a damn new one,” he groans, rubbing his temples as he clicks his teeth when a fresh new round of tears soak your cheeks. (He doesn’t like how it looks—wobbly lips and puffy eyes on you make him feel like he’s doing something wrong. He has enough mistakes to worry about as is.)

“But it’s expensive and—”

“And not your problem,” he grumbles, “I’ll buy you a ring. A nicer one, too, if you promise to quit your whining.”

“You’re not mad?” you sniffle, slumping against his chest as your arms circle his waist.

He melts. Because it’s you, and he always does when it’s you. His arms wrap tightly around you, and a large hand cups the back of your head as he presses a small kiss to your temple.

“You want me to be mad that bad?”

“No,” you whimper.

“Then ‘m not,” he snorts, chest vibrating under your cheek at his laugh, “so quit worryin’. You’ll get creases and everyone’ll think I married some old hag.”

You crack a small grin. He’s good at that—at pulling a soft smile onto your lips against your will as you let out a quiet giggle, gently swatting at his back with your hand as you huff. For a second, the ring is forgotten. For a second, it’s just you, it’s just Sukuna, and it’s just nothing else.

“Not a hag, you asshole,” you huff.

“You nag like one,” he mumbles.

“Do not,” you huff, “you just always piss me off.”

“You piss me off, too.”

“Are you pissed off about the ring?” you ask quietly.

“No,” he grunts. His arms squeeze you tighter, his lips kiss your head once more, and his body sways you side to side ever so slightly as he repeats, more seriously this time, “no. Forget the ring. I’ll get you a new one if I have to, so don’t cry.”

“Okay,” you murmur. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he hums.

He does. Ring or not, he does. And you can tell he does when he pulls away, gently pinches your nose and leans in to kiss the tears off your face as you can’t help but smile and giggle.

Your ring is down the drain (literally) and so is the hefty sum of money he spent on it, but everything else is still right here. Him and you and you and him and everything you’re ever built, nestled perfectly safe between the little space between your bodies.

“Done cryin’?” he asks gently.

You nod, kissing his jaw as he hums in content. “Yeah.”

“Great. Then get out—it’s my turn in the bathroom and I’ve waited long enough.”

—————— BONUS.

“Hand me the wrench.”

“Okay,” you hum. You hand him a tool, and he stares at you unimpressed as soon as he looks at it.

“That’s a screwdriver.”

“Oh. Which one’s the wrench?”

“Give me a fuckin’ break,” he groans, rubbing his temples.

Fifteen minutes later, and a good deal of bickering over what a wrench looks like and how his tools don’t all look the same, Sukuna has successfully retrieved your very shiny, and very pretty engagement ring. (It didn’t make it very far down the pipes—which is good. It didn’t make it to the sewers, and it most certainly didn’t make its way into the ocean.)

It’s no longer down the drain. (Literally.)

It’s now on your finger. (Literally.)

“Happy?” he raises a brow, watching as you grin at your finger, clearly pleased.

“Yeah,” you hum, sighing in relief. “Good thing you’re at least good at something.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you say innocently.

“I’m flushin’ that thing down the toilet next time! Sendin’ it straight into the ocean so you’ll never find it again!”

I’ll never forget when I was six years old and I dropped the small ring I got from a gumball machine down the drain when I was brushing my teeth and then I had such a severe meltdown my dad had to bust out his toolkit, open the damn bathroom sink pipes, and fish it out. Because six year old me could not FATHOM losing my 50 cent plastic ring no matter how many times he promised he’d buy me a new one 💀

Anyway. My dad and I were reminiscing about that on call and then I decided it would make a cute sukuna drabble so here you go.

Anyway peace ✌️

[hoothootmotherf-ckers]

can people please stop filming the entire fucking world around them for public consumption? and especially random fucking strangers who you did not ask???

I work at a park and man the front desk. and I'm photographed and filmed a lot. I'm talking easily 20+ times per day. most of the times, it's parents filming me swearing in their kids as junior rangers. which. they're intending to film their kids. what they get is me and the back of their kids' heads.

there's this recurring problem that like. people forget we're real people? like yeah you're filming your kid, but you're filming me interacting with your kid. I could count the amount of times someone has asked me permission to do this in the past year on one hand. and sometimes that's after they already start filming.

Like, I'm not an actor. I did not agree to this. You could be a dick and make the argument that I'm a public figure, but I'm not. This is not a persona and my uniform is not a costume. I'm a person trying to do my job and help people and teach them about science and history. And you know what makes it harder to do that? The knowledge that anything I say or do could end up shared with thousands of people. The fact that if I fuck up the wording of this kid's junior ranger pledge, or I sneeze, or make some basic mistake, it's not just a funny or embarrassing moment for me and this one family. It could end up on tiktok.

And okay, those are the people intending to film their own kids and not thinking or caring about the collateral. What's worse is the people who film everything. A few times a week some guy walks into the visitor center, phone already horizontal in front of their face, narrating what they're doing and seeing. They come up to the desk and ask me questions, phone in my face. They take wide establishing shots of the visitor center and every visitor in it. None of us agreed to this! None of these people consented to be in your youtube video! We are not the fucking set dressing of whatever travel instagram story you're making!

I don't know where I'm going with this. This is really only the tip of the iceberg. Sometimes people ask us to repeat what we just did - swear in their kid, or explain a detail, or hand them a fucking map - so they can get a second take, and they're already filming so if we say no we look like the asshole. Sometimes we're asked innocuous things like to point out a landmark, and next week there's a photo of us in the 15,000 member Rangers Pointing at Things facebook group (yep, real thing). One time my entire 45 minute evening program was filmed without my permission and I was informed after the fact. This happens all the time, and I'm giving park ranger examples, but this happens to so many people in service work or public positions every single fucking day.

I guess just, next time you go to film in a public space, take a second. Think about who you're about to film, if they agreed to that, what might happen if a video of them went viral. there's a reason I'm not out as trans at work. And then, maybe. don't. or at least fucking ask.

[prlssprfctn]

Every time another joke about Batman/Bruce Wayne passes by me, I can't help but imagine that the whole rumour about these two dating was originally (and probably accidentally) created by Bruce himself.

Just imagine, a teen Bruce, still only starting with his vigilante career, makes a crucial mistake - he pays with his own credit card in front of people, while being Batman. A stupid, absolutely instinctive mistake, but in his defence he wasn't sleeping normally for a week, and had an open wound in his stomach that day, so. Whoops.

And then someone asks Bruce Wayne about it, in front of a thousand cameras. And he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

Reporter: So, mister Wayne, recently citizens had reported that they saw Batman paying for the damage in the city... with your credit card. Care to explain details behind this?

Bruce, smiling stupidly: Oh, he is my ex. I sometimes sponsor him.

The crowd: (goes wild)

Alfred, starting at the interview back in the Batcave: ...We are never going to get rid of this, are we?

And guess what? They don't!

Bruce thinks that with time passing, with his love interests switching and new rumours spawning in the world, they might forget about it. He was young, he was stupid - he fucked up, alright?

But decades pass. He has a whole football team of kids. Everyone still ship Bruce and Batman.

And when this stupid video accidentally gets resurfaced on the internet again, his family goes insane. They start creating even more stupid rumours on galas.

Reporter: Mister Wayne... For years now, the crowds are speculating... Who is exactly your mother, and where is she now?

Damian, sighing pitifully: My father and my mother don't enjoy contacting each other, sadly. My mom says that their relationship was just a rebound; father desperately tries to forget Batman... Still, to this day.

Bruce, gripping the glass of champagne: ...

Talia, watching this interview with Ra's: Now, that's my son right there.

Dick: Oh, why I was screaming at Batman in the middle of the street a few days ago? Oh, this bastard- I mean, this respectable vigilante, he dared to get in the argument with Bruce. He can't really leave him alone, really! They are so insane about each other... So toxic, but so, uh, captivating... But you know, Bruce! He has such a fragile heart...

Gotham: Aw-w, poor mister Wayne!

Bruce, sighing: Jesus Christ.

Tim, shaking his head to the camera: I hate Red Robin, really. Did you know that his existence is just a direct offence to my father? Yeah, actually, Batman took this kid under his wing with another man - I am not going to tell who - to make dad jealous. This is disgusting!

Jason, who returned from the death by pretending that all this time he was under the child protection system after becoming an accidental witness of the second Robin's death: Oh, yeah, it was tough... Poor kid exploded in front of my eyes! Reporter: But, mister Todd-Wayne, what were you doing in that warehouse?

Jason, wiping fake tears: They were like my divorced parents, you know... Batman and Bruce. Batman really tried to mend things with dad back then, and wanted me to like him... We just wanted to spend some time together with him, and that Robin kid... God, it was terrible... Batman refuses to contact me now. I miss my second dad...

Bruce, back in the Batcave, watching as Batman's reputation goes lower and lower: ........................... Alfred: Well, master Bruce... Bruce: Not a word. Al. Please.

[disabirbity]

One of the main problems around people with personality disorders (particularly cluster B), psychotic disorders, OSDD/DID/other CDDs or other stigmatised mental conditions is, well... Everything we do gets put back onto our disorder. Every fault, every misstep, every mistake is used as proof to say that the stigma of us all being horrible people is right.

We can say "not everyone with x disorder harms people, and in fact we're more likely to BE harmed and abused than we are to hurt others" as much as we like--and of course, that's a true statement. But the moment someone with a stigmatised mental illness does something wrong, it's "of course you'd do xyz, you're a narcissist" or "checks out with the psychosis".

Someone with ASPD could cut someone off for any valid reason, but anyone else could spin it into "yeah, that's sociopaths for you". Someone with psychosis could wrongfully accuse someone of something and without being given a chance to apologise, suddenly it's "this is why we don't trust delusional people like you" and you're discredited from here on out. Someone with DID could genuinely forget that their alter had an argument with someone and be trying to sort it out, but no one wants to hear that something was forgotten in the amnesia, so and all they get is "see, people with DID just blame everything on their alters".

People with stigmatised disorders are just like anyone else. They're not evil or uniquely capable of harm, but that also means they're not incapable of making mistakes. Everyone is entitled to their own limits but I think people need to be more aware that disabled people can make genuine mistakes and one slip up or argument doesn't mean that pwNPD is secretly manipulating you. Sometimes people are manipulative and you need to be able to tell the difference--just like neurotypicals, disabled people can be abusive. But blaming mistakes or even genuine malice on someone's disorder does nothing but harm a marginalised group of people. If you wouldn't say "of course you would, you're neurotypical" to someone abusing someone else or if that wouldn't make sense to you, why would you do it to disabled people?

[keeryhours]

teen pregnancy series - steve harrington part 1

Steve Harrington x female! reader

Main Masterlist

Teen Pregnancy Series Masterlist

Steve Harrington Masterlist

Summary:

You find yourself pregnant with your best friend Nancy’s boyfriend’s baby after a drunken mistake.

Part 2

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), pregnancy, angst, sort of cheating but not really

Word Count: 11.7k

A/N:

I have worked SO HARD on this fic y’all. I really wanted to post the whole thing (27k words) but tumblr wouldn’t let me. So here we have part 1! Part 2 will be out tomorrow! I also want to give a big shoutout to my bestie @punkrockmlchael for the banner and for my friends and beta readers @glassbxttless @lesservillain @the-witty-pen-name!

‘King’ Steve Harrington never paid any attention to you until he started dating your best friend, Nancy Wheeler. It had been a surprise when he asked her out - you, Nancy, and Barb had been quiet and stayed off to yourselves. You were a tight knit friend group, but certainly not popular. So when Steve asked Nancy out, you and Barb had been skeptical.

“Are you sure he has the best intentions?” Barb asked. “Because it’s Steve Harrington. He goes through girls like crazy.”

“Agreed,” you added. “I’m suspicious.”

“Guys, he’s actually really nice!” Nancy always defended him. “And it’s not even that serious. We just made out once…or twice.”

You and Barb exchanged a look. You didn’t really believe Steve had changed. You feared your best friend was going to get her heart broken, badly.

“What do you guys have in common anyway?” Barb asked. “He’s not, you know…exactly an honor student.”

“Barb!” Nancy scolded with a laugh. “He’s actually really sweet and funny. And a good kisser.”

You and Barb got lost in a fit of giggles at that. It was the first time any of you were having any kind of experience with a guy. The three of you were always overlooked by the guys of Hawkins High, but you didn’t really mind. There were more important things than high school relationships. It was a little exciting, though.

“So is he your boyfriend yet?” You asked, a teasing smile on your face.

“No,” Nancy said, blushing. “I don’t know if he-“

You were all surprised when Steve came seemingly out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around Nancy and making her squeal as he lifted her off the ground. It was sickeningly sweet.

“Steve!” She mock scolded him as he sat her down, and she playfully slapped his chest.

“What? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Steve said, suave grin on his handsome face.

“It’s been like 2 hours,” Nancy laughed.

“Tell me about it,” Steve said, pulling her in for a kiss. You and Barb looked away, feeling awkward.

Finally Steve acknowledged the two of you, giving you both a polite smile. “Sorry. Can I steal Nance for a few?”

Before either of you could say anything, Steve was leading a giggling Nancy away, leaving you and Barb alone. 

“I just hope she doesn’t forget about us,” Barb said.

—

“Steve wants us to go to Tina’s halloween party,” Nancy said at her locker before lunch. You and Barb exchanged a look.

“All of us?” You asked, skeptically.

“Yes, all of us,” Nancy said, attempting to reassure you both. “I wouldn’t want to go at all if you guys couldn’t come.”

“It’s not exactly…our scene,” Barb said. Her brows were furrowed as she pushed her glasses higher on her nose. “I don’t know if they really want us there, Nance.”

“Who cares?” Nancy said. “We should just go and be stupid teenagers and have fun for once.”

It took some convincing, Barb more than you, but finally you agreed to go together. You picked out a costume - a short, sexy red dress with devil horns on your head. You thought about someone maybe being interested in you at the party - you had to admit to yourself that you were a little jealous of Nancy’s relationship with Steve. It got lonely, sometimes.

Steve was picking all three of you up. Your house was the first on the way, so he picked you up first. You felt nervous as you walked down the driveway and got into the passenger seat of Steve’s car.

“Hey,” he greeted you, giving you his usual charming smile. You definitely understood what Nancy saw in him - Steve was handsome. “You look great.”

“You too,” you said, and he did. He and Nancy had gone with a couples costume - Risky Business - and he looked very good. He had a pair of sunglasses stuck in the front of his black shirt.

You mostly rode in silence on the way to the Wheeler’s house, Steve’s radio playing softly in the background. When Nancy came walking out of the house, Steve’s face lit up, and something in you sunk as you climbed out to slide into the back seat.

You felt a little better when you picked up Barb and she joined you in the back, making you feel less like an awkward third wheel. She was dressed like a librarian, which was honestly very normal for her.

The party was already in full swing when you arrived. You and Barb trailed behind Steve and Nancy into the house, following them straight to the punch bowl. Steve made a drink for all three of you. Barb took a tiny sip of hers, making a face. You tried yours, but it wasn’t too bad. Strong, though.

The party was less painful than you’d feared. You mostly stayed off to the side with Barb, drinking on your own. You watched the partygoers dance together, including Steve and Nancy, and you longed to join them. But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

At some point you lost your friends, leaving you standing in the kitchen alone. Nancy and Steve had disappeared into a bathroom, Nancy wiping at a big red punch stain on the front of her shirt. You’d watched them go, wondering what happened between them.

You continued sipping at your drink, watching the party rage on around you. The alcohol was making you less self conscious and more loose, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to join in. You wished you could. You wondered what it would like to be popular, or even to just be a normal teenage girl.

It wasn’t long before you spotted Nancy again, drunk as hell and angry.

“Where are you going?” You asked her as she drunkenly stormed through the party with Jonathan Byers and Barb trailing behind her.

“Home,” she slurred, stumbling over her own feet. You were too drunk to properly question it, simply watching as she left with Jonathan and Barb in tow. Jonathan seemed sober, at least. No one asked you if you wanted a ride, too. You figured you would ‘enjoy’ the party a little longer, figure out how you were getting home later.

You turned around and walked right into Steve Harrington.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking way more upset than the last time you’d seen him. He looked like he might have been crying, his eyes red rimmed.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, looking him over with concern.

He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s…it’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” you said softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve considered your offer. He didn’t know if he wanted to talk about Nancy right now, but getting back to the party didn’t sound like much fun either. He also didn’t really want to go home and be alone. ���Sure. Okay.”

That’s how you ended up alone in a bedroom with Steve, sitting awkwardly next to each other on Tina’s parents’ bed. Steve sighed, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

“Me and Nancy…I don’t know,” he started, like he couldn’t find his words. “I know she’s your best friend. I’m not trying to say anything bad about her. I love her. But I think we might be over.”

“Why do you think that?” You asked softly. You knew Nancy really liked Steve. This was their first real argument, and it seems like it was a big one.

“She just…” he sighed again. “She said we’re bullshit. What does that even mean? That she doesn’t love me?”

“I don’t think that’s true,” you said. “Nancy really cares about you-“

“But does she love me?” He gestured with his hand then let it flop onto his lap in defeat. “I don’t know. I don’t think she does. I don’t know why she would.”

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your brows at him. “Why wouldn’t she?”

“Because I’m…” He gestured again, like he didn’t know how to articulate what he was trying to say. “I’m me. I’m an asshole. I’m dumb. I care too much about being popular. She’s too good for me.”

“Steve, that’s not true,” you said, laying your hand over his. “You’re an incredible person. I mean, sure you have a reputation, but since you’ve dated Nancy I’ve gotten to see some of the real you, and…I like the real Steve.”

He slowly looked up at you. “You do?”

“Yeah, of course I do.” You smiled gently. “I like the real Steve a lot.”

Steve’s eyes searched yours. His gaze darted down to your lips for only a second before meeting your eyes again. Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

You were shocked at first, your eyes going wide. But you quickly melted into his kiss - it felt so right. Steve moaned against your lips as he deepened the kiss and you grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him closer to you. The kiss turned heated fast, Steve’s tongue slipping into your mouth and pressing against your own. Your tongues danced together in a sloppy rhythm, your kisses hungry and desperate for one another.

His hands trailed under your dress, feeling the smooth skin of your plush thighs, one hand sliding between your legs to tease you through your panties. You gasped - you’d never been touched there before. It was new, exciting. You were wet already, and Steve could feel it.

“Wet for me?” He mumbled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip and making you gasp. “I can feel you.”

You blushed deeply, feeling ashamed. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was gross?

He didn’t seem like he thought it was gross. He seemed like he liked it. He pressed against something that had you moaning against his mouth, your grip on his shirt tightening. 

“Have you ever been touched before?” He asked, hand slipping beneath your panties. His fingers traced between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingers before he started rubbing against that bundle of nerves again.

“No,” you admitted, your voice shaky. “Never.”

“I’ll be gentle,” he promised. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You didn’t know that. No guy had ever said that to you before. You thankfully didn’t have to say anything because Steve pressed his lips to yours again, kissing any words away. It felt weird to have his tongue pressing against your own, the way his hands grabbed at you, like he wanted you.

“Can I take this off?” He asked quietly, pulling at your red dress. You heart thundered in your chest, wondering what was going to happen, if you were really about to lose your virginity to Steve Harrington. Who was your best friend’s boyfriend - or, used to be.

You nodded, and Steve smiled, pushing you back onto the bed. He climbed over you, slowly kissing from your legs upwards as he pushed the dress higher and higher. You were shaking, nervous even through the haze of the alcohol. But his touch was so nice, it felt so good, you wanted to keep going.

He pushed the dress over your head until you were left in nothing but your bra and panties, suddenly horrifically self conscious. You crossed your arms over your body on instinct.

Steve gently grabbed your arms, moving them down. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “You don’t have to hide from me. I love your body.”

He sat up then, removing his shirt. His chest was muscular, and he had a lot of chest hair. It was hot, manly. You rubbed over his chest, feeling the ridges of his muscles, the skin beneath your touch. He shivered on instinct, a low moan coming from his lips.

You could feel how hard he was from where he was pressed against your thigh. He grinded against you, moaning, and you felt scared - he seemed big. You didn’t know how you were going to take him - you’d never taken anybody before, and Steve seemed like an advanced place to start.

He reached behind your back and unhooked your bra, removing it completely. His lips found your nipple right away and you let out a mix between a gasp and a moan - it was unexpected and new, but it felt good. Steve sucked on it, running his tongue around it, making you arch your back into his mouth. His hand played with your other nipple until he switched, giving them both attention.

When he was done, he kissed down your chest and stomach, back down to your panties. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, looking up at you. “Can I?”

You looked at him. “Can you what?”

Steve chuckled. “Taste you?”

You didn’t really know what he meant by that. “Um, sure?”

Steve smiled at you, then he pulled your panties down your legs. You felt infinitely more exposed now - no one had ever seen you there before. There were a lot of firsts tonight. Steve spread your legs, and you would have been embarrassed if he hadn’t groaned at the sight.

He lowered himself between your legs, and you gasped loudly when you felt Steve’s tongue between your folds. He groaned again as he began to devour you, sucking at your clit and running his tongue over it.

The feeling was like nothing you’d ever experienced in your life. You moaned uncontrollably, hands shooting down to tangle in Steve’s hair. He moaned against your pussy as he ate you, loving every moment of it.

Steve was grinding his hips against the bed, his cock rock hard and aching beneath his pants. He lapped up every bit of wetness you gave him, you were the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. 

“Christ,” he moaned against you, truly burying his face into you and breathing in your scent. “You taste so good. I can’t get enough.”

You were losing your mind. Pitchy moans spilling from your lips, body writhing on the bed. Whatever he was doing was incredible, it made your body feel like it was full of electricity, a coil tightening deep in your belly.

“Steve…Steve…” you moaned, pulling on his locks. You started grinding yourself against his face, desperate for more more more, desperate for him to never stop. You thought you might die if he did.

You felt something pressing against your entrance, making you jump. “What…what are you…?”

“Jus’ getting you ready,” he hummed against you. “‘s okay?”

You were too out of it to think much about it. “Um…yes.”

You gasped loudly at the intrusion of his finger pressing inside you. You’d never even done this to yourself before, the feeling completely foreign. Weird, but good. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of you, you were so wet there was hardly any resistance.

You were so lost in the pleasure he was giving you that you barely noticed when he began pushing a second finger inside. But suddenly you were even more full, his fingers curling deep inside you and pressing against something that had you moaning his name even louder.

“Steve! Oh, fuck-“

“That’s it,” he moaned against you, “just like that. You gonna cum for me?”

You whined in response, shaking hand tightening in his hair. He chuckled, moving back to suck on your clit again and sending you reeling. He pumped his fingers faster and faster, your back arching off the bed as your vision began going white.

“Oh, god- fuck! Steve, ohmygod, holy shit-“

Steve put his all into it as your orgasm hit you, working you through the most mind blowing experience of your life. How was he so good? You felt like you’d died and gone to heaven.

“That’s it, baby, cum f’me,” he encouraged you, but as the orgasm intensified you began grinding against his tongue, shutting him up happily. He moaned against you, sending vibrations through your clit.

He rode you through it until you couldn’t take it anymore, until you were pushing him away and he was grinning with the confidence only King Steve could possess. You suddenly understood the nickname.

He kissed up your body, working his way back up to your lips. He quickly undid his pants, shoving them and his boxers down his legs. You were right - he was huge. He wrapped a hand around his massive cock, slowly stroking it as he looked down at your body.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he slurred, and he wobbled a bit as he sat up on his knees. The room felt like it was tilting back and forth, like you were on a boat. It was not helping the nausea building in your stomach.

Steve spread your legs, settling himself between them. He grinded his cock through your folds, coating it in your wetness as he nipped and sucked at your neck. “Y’ready?”

“Uh…yeah,” you said, holding onto Steve’s shoulders. It made you feel safer somehow.

His thick tip pressed against your entrance, and you let out a loud gasp as he pushed through, stretching you around his cock. Your nails dug into his back, making him hiss as he slowly pushed deeper inside.

“Fuck. You are so tight.” His breath was coming out in huffs of hot air against the skin of your neck, quiet moans beginning to spill from his lips as he bullied his cock further into you. “Shit. You can take it. I know y’can take it. Just let me in, baby.”

You tried your best to relax your muscles, trying to just lose yourself to the feeling and let Steve have you. It was starting to feel good, the deeper he filled you the more full you felt. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt.

Steve moaned loudly into your neck once he bottomed out, pumping into you shallowly a few times before he pulled farther back, slapping his hips into you. You let out a mix between a gasp and a moan, your eyes squeezing shut.

“You okay?” he asked, but it was obvious in his expression that he was desperate to keep going.

“I’m okay,” you said. “You can keep going.”

Steve smiled down at you before pressing his lips to yours again and setting a quick pace fucking into you. The sounds of your skin meeting and the bed - Tina’s parents’ bed - creaking from Steve’s movements filled the large bedroom. You worried people would be able to hear you from the hall.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Steve praised, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. “So good f’me. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, baby?”

You whined in response, brain complete mush as Steve fucked you and the room spun around. You closed your eyes, hoping to calm the situation.

Steve pushed your legs up higher, pressing your thighs into your body and spreading your legs wide. This allowed him to get way deeper than before, and now he was letting out desperate moans, losing himself in the pleasure of you.

“Shit…I’m gonna cum,” he said as his thrusts became sloppy and fast, his cheeks, neck, and chest flushing red. “Fuuuck, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, are you gonna take it, baby?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, not even processing the question. There were no thoughts of condoms, no thoughts of pulling out even. Neither of you thinking, Steve neared his release inside you, holding onto you tightly.

“Take it, take it,” he cried out, biting down on your neck as he let out one last guttural groan, spilling his cum into you, every last drop as he rode out his high. You held onto him, feeling all of him.

Steve’s chest was heaving with his breaths as he pushed up on his arms, placing a kiss to your lips before he pulled out, collapsing on his back. You didn’t know what to say. You just laid there for a few minutes until Steve eventually rolled over to the side of the bed, standing and pulling his clothes back on. He tossed you your dress and you used it to cover your body, suddenly feeling self conscious.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?” he said as he slipped his shoes back on. “It’s been a long night.”

—

The next Monday, Steve and Nancy walked into school hand in hand. Your heart stopped in your chest at the sight, guilt eating you from the inside out. You tried not to get sick over it as you went through your day, until you got to talk to Nancy and Barb at your lockers.

“He came to my house with flowers,” Nancy said, smiling. “He said he was sorry and he didn’t want to be without me.”

“Aww!” Barb said, hand over her heart. “That’s so cute. He really cares about you.”

“Yeah,” was all you could add, because you knew you were the worst friend on the planet.

You were even more surprised later that day when someone grabbed your arm on the way to lunch. You turned to see Steve, looking at you seriously. “Can we talk?”

You hadn’t seen Steve since he’d been inside of you, you know, taking your virginity, a couple days ago, and that was the only thing going through your mind at that moment. “Um, yeah, sure.”

Steve led you down the hall and into the library, opening the door for you to one of the study rooms. You followed him inside and he shut the door, turning to you with an expression that told you how stressed out he was.

“Look,” he said, “about Tina’s party - what we did - I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done that. I…really care about Nancy, and I don’t want to hurt her. I want to be with her.”

You just listened to him speak, his words only intensifying the ache in your chest. You knew it was coming, but it still hurt. You didn’t say anything, waiting for Steve to continue.

“I just don’t want this to get out,” he said slowly. “So…is it okay if we keep this between us? Never to repeat or be talked about?” He looked at you hopefully, praying you would keep the secret.

“Oh,” you said. “Sure. I won’t tell.”

“Awesome,” Steve said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “You know, it would just hurt Nance if she knew. And it’s never going to happen again, so there’s no point in her knowing, right?”

You weren’t sure you truly agreed, but you nodded along anyway. “Okay.”

“Good.” Steve smiled softly at you. His large hand rubbed your upper arm. “Thanks for understanding.”

The rest of the school day was extremely awkward - at least for you. Nancy and Barb were totally oblivious to what you’d done, and Steve was acting like he barely knew you.

You wondered if this was something he’d done before - taking girls’ virginity’s and then acting like it never happened, leaving them behind. When you slept together, you hadn’t exactly thought you and Steve would be together after (well, you were drunk so you weren’t thinking much at all), but you didn’t think he’d just go back to Nancy like nothing happened.

Something about it stung.

And they stayed together. This wasn’t the fling you had originally warned Nancy it might be. They seemed really into each other, which was really unfortunate for you, because you realized something that left you horrified.

You had developed feelings for Steve Harrington.

You always thought it was bullshit when they said in church as a kid that every time you have sex with someone you give a piece of yourself away, but you had truly given Steve a piece of yourself you couldn’t get back. But he hadn’t done the same for you.

Maybe it was different for guys? Or maybe you were just an idiot who fell for her best friend’s boyfriend after having sex with him.

It was hard to look Nancy or even Barb in the eye at all. Steve may have been able to forget what you did, but you couldn’t. You had betrayed your lifelong best friend. How were you supposed to keep this to yourself? You didn’t deserve their friendship.

Of course Nancy noticed your extreme self loathing - she was always perceptive. Steve’s just lucky he was better at lying than you.

“Are you okay?” She asked you after school one day while you and Barb were studying in her bedroom. “You seem upset lately.”

Oh, god. It was going to come out. You were going to blow it.

“I’ve just been kinda sad,” you said. “Just…stressed with college applications coming up.”

“Oh yeah, me too,” Barb said, a weary sigh coming from deep in her chest. “I’m worried I don’t have the grades. I want to go to Emerson with you guys, but I don’t have an extra curricular either.”

You were grateful as the conversation easily transitioned into college applications and the upcoming test in Mrs. O’Donnells. Your brain was elsewhere.

Not only were you consumed with guilt, but also the memory of Steve all over you, his hands, his mouth, his cock-

“Are we still having our movie night this weekend?” Barb asked a bit later as you were all preparing to leave.

“Oh,” Nancy said sheepishly, a blush rising to her pale cheeks. “Actually, Steve planned a surprise date this weekend. I’m not sure what we’re doing, but…” she giggled. “I don’t know. He might want to do more.”

Your head snapped up then. “You guys haven’t had sex yet?”

Nancy blushed even deeper. “No. I’ve been nervous. I want it to be with the right person at the right time. But I think we might this weekend.”

You felt sick. Not only had Steve slept with you before Nancy - your best friends couldn’t even know you’d lost your virginity - but now he was probably going to actually have sex with her. You wanted to say something, to stop it, but what could you say?

Nothing.

So you watched Nancy gushing about Steve and pretended it wasn’t killing you inside, pretending like you didn’t have feelings for him and never had. You were pretty good at pretending, after all.

—

It had been two months since the hookup when you started getting sick. You assumed it was a stomach bug at first, to the point that you let your mom take you to the doctor - only to get the biggest news of your life.

“You’re pregnant,” the doctor said, and you were suddenly grateful you’d told your mom you didn’t need her to go back with you.

The news had sent you reeling. There in the doctor’s office, your head spun, your vision dotting like you might pass out. Because this could not be happening. There was only one potential father, and he couldn’t be, he was with Nancy, you couldn’t do this-

The doctor gave you pamphlets on your different options, which you hastily stuffed into your bag. You weren’t ready to tell your parents about this yet. When you walked out of the office and your mom asked what the doctor said, all you could say was “Nothing, just a virus.”

“Did they give you any medicine?”

Yeah, a prescription for prenatal vitamins. “No, mom.”

Your mom looked worried. “Maybe we should go somewhere for a second opinion, you’ve been so sick it’s not normal-“

“Mom, I’m really fine,” you attempted to assure her. Please, you were not ready to come out with this yet. To anyone.

“I’m just worried,” she said, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t want you to be sick.”

“I promise I’m okay.” You gave her the most encouraging smile you could muster. “I’m feeling better today already.”

That was not true. You were getting sicker by the day, the “morning sickness” (more like all day sickness) kicking your ass. You knew this was your fault, but you still found yourself mad at Steve. Both of you had drunkenly agreed to sex without a condom, so it wasn’t really fair to put the blame on him, but when you were on your knees in front of the toilet for the 15th time that day, you didn’t care much about fair.

You were utterly panicked over the idea of being pregnant. What did this mean for your future? College? Falling in love one day? What guy your age wants to settle down with a step kid?

You considered abortion, but ultimately decided not to. Adoption was also considered, but you figured this was your baby, and you wanted to keep it. You felt bonded to it. Like whatever came, you were in this together.

What about Steve? How would he feel about this? Not good, you could imagine. He was still going strong with Nancy, and- 

Oh god, Nancy.

She would never forgive you. Your friendship was over. You ruined everything. Barb would probably hate you, too. You would be friendless, boyfriendless, and pregnant.

Great. Good decisions, you thought to yourself.

You kept the news to yourself for weeks. You couldn’t bear to tell a single soul. Who could you tell? No one would be happy for you. Every person you had to tell would end in disaster.

It was weird, seeing Steve with Nancy, happy and like you never even existed, while you carried his child. You felt an internal longing towards him, like maybe the baby knew who their father was. Which was crazy, because it was still only cells working to become a human being.

You had your first ultrasound before you told anyone. You borrowed the car and drove yourself, stomach in knots as you waited in the waiting room. The ultrasound itself was uncomfortable - you always thought of them like they were in the movies, the little wand on your belly, but they explained that this early they usually do an internal ultrasound, which is just as unpleasant as it sounds.

You watched as the image showed up on the screen. The tiny little vaguely human shaped blob, wiggling around in there - inside of you. Alive. The tech took measurements, and you even heard the heartbeat. It took your breath away. You wondered what Steve would think if he knew, if he’d been there to experience it.

The tech said you were 9 weeks pregnant, due in July, which lined up perfectly with Halloween night. Not that there were any other possibilities. She printed you a bunch of photos, showing the tiny baby from multiple different angles.

As you left with the photos clutched in your hand, you wondered how long you had before you were forced to come clean about this. Not long, you figured. Would it be better to just come out and say it now?

No. You weren’t doing that. You were not ready for that.

Going to school with this secret held deep inside was a lot already. It felt like everyone who saw you knew, even though that was impossible. Like it was written on your forehead.

Having to face Nancy and Barb was even worse. They treated you just like normal, like their best friend, meanwhile you were hiding the biggest secret possible beneath your sweater.

Seeing Nancy with Steve was even worse. They were so happy together. You knew they had to be sleeping together by now. You were nothing but a distant memory, a cheap hookup, another one of King Steve’s conquests.

Except that wasn’t true. The baby growing in your belly proved that. This was one hookup he’d never forget.

—

When you were 13 weeks pregnant, you noticed the smallest bump in the mirror. It took your breath away as your hand rubbed over it, the firm mound of your stomach seemingly popped overnight. This was bad. This meant you were out of time.

You dressed in a loose sweatshirt and leggings, which was not your usual style whatsoever. Nancy and Barb immediately noticed something was up when you met them at your lockers.

“Are you sick?” Nancy asked, reaching for your forehead with the back of her hand like your mom.

“A little,” you admitted. “I’m just not feeling great.”

Nancy looked at you sympathetically. “Maybe you should go home. I can bring you some soup after school.”

You shook your head - “I can’t. I’ve already missed too much school.” Between the days you’d missed with your morning sickness and the days you’d have to miss for appointments, it was woefully true.

Nancy still looked concerned. “I’m just worried about you. You look rough. I don’t want you being sick at school-“

She was cut off with a squeal as Steve came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He whispered something in her ear that had her giggling before he turned to you. His brows furrowed like he was thinking something, but he didn’t say anything to 

you.

“Ready to get to class?” he asked Nancy. He’d taken to walking her to every single one of her classes. It would have been sweet if not for your current situation.

“Oh, sure,” Nancy said, closing her locker. She turned to you. “You’ll let me know if you feel any worse, right?”

The guilt ate at you. Yeah, Nancy, thanks for caring about me, I’m just sick because I’m carrying your boyfriend’s baby. “Yeah, I will.”

Steve gave you another lingering look before he walked off with Nancy, arm wrapped around her shoulders.

It was later that day when you caught Steve alone. You approached him quickly, taking your chance before you could talk yourself out of it. “Steve. Can I talk to you?”

There was a certain dread on his face that almost made you wonder if he already knew what you were going to say. “Um. Yeah, I guess.”

You found yourselves back in the library study pod you’d had your first conversation in, which felt…poetic. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, fidgeting and uncomfortable as he leaned against the study table. his gaze darted around, like he didn’t want to meet your eyes.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asked. He was ready to get this over with, whatever it was.

“I…” you thought for a moment about what the best way to break the news would be. You realized you probably should have planned your words, that would have made this a hell of a lot easier.

Steve looked at you expectantly. He didn’t want to say get on with it, but at the same time…. “What is it?”

You fiddled with your bag strap, feeling sick to your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”

Steve just looked at you like he didn’t even hear you. He just blinked. Then, finally, a grin spread across his face, which had you confused.

“Ha, ha. Good one,” he said, bowing his head as if he respected the joke. “You had me scared for a minute there.”

“Steve, I…” you tightened your grip on the strap of your bag, wishing you were anywhere but in your current situation. “I’m not joking. I’m being serious.”

His smile dropped immediately. He started sweating, feeling like his shirt was too tight and he couldn’t breathe. His head was spinning. He leaned on the table for support. “No. You’re not.”

“I am,” you said, frustrated at the way Steve seemed to be choosing to not understand or believe you. “I’m pregnant, Steve. For real.”

He shook his head. “No. No way. It’s not mine.”

You jerked back as if you’d been slapped. “What do you mean it’s not yours?”

“It’s not…there’s n-no way it’s mine,” he said, his voice shaking as he stuttered over his words. He scrambled desperately in his own brain for any way out of this, anything that would disprove his involvement in all of this, but he came up with nothing.

“Steve, you’re the only person I’ve ever had sex with and you know that,” you hissed at him through gritted teeth, having gone from scared to pissed off that Steve really had the nerve to deny this baby.

“I don’t know, maybe you hooked up with someone after me. I wouldn’t know. And then you come telling me it’s mine because my family has money? Well-“

“Are you serious?” You raised your voice slightly, making Steve look around in a panic as he tried to shush you. “You know it’s yours. And you’re really accusing me of wanting your money? I don’t give a fuck about your money. I just thought you deserved to know you’re gonna be a dad.”

Steve paled. “I-I…there’s no way, there’s-“

“I know this is a lot to take in,” you said. “Believe me. I know.”

“Can you prove- can you prove it?” he asked, but it was obvious he was just scared, grasping at anything that would make this go away, anything that would make this not real.

You lifted your sweatshirt. The bump was obvious, perfectly round, and not at all in a ‘maybe you just gained some weight’ kind of way. Steve somehow went even more pale, and you suddenly worried he might pass out. 

“Shit,” he hissed. “I- what- how far are you? How long have you known?”

“I found out a month ago. I’m 13 weeks.” You fished the ultrasound photos out of your bag, handing them over to Steve. His hands were shaking terribly as he took them from you, looking over the distinctly baby shaped blob growing inside of you, and sure enough your name was printed at the top.

“How…how many weeks are there? In a pregnancy?” Steve asked, feeling like a total idiot.

You didn’t treat him like one. “40.”

Steve let out a rush of air. “Okay. There’s time. Okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the style that probably took him an hour this morning. “What…do you want to do? About the baby?”

“What do you mean?” you asked. “Like, do I want to keep it?”

“Well…yeah,” he said. “Do you?”

“It’s too late for an abortion,” you said. “But…I had decided I wanted to keep it. Him or her. I couldn’t…I don’t think I could carry a baby and give them up.”

Steve nodded slowly. It wasn’t what he was hoping to hear, but what he expected to hear. He understood, in a way. He didn’t love the idea of an abortion or adoption either. “Okay. Um. What happens now?”

You didn’t know either, to be honest. “Well, um…do you want to be…are you going to be involved?”

“With…the baby?”

“Yes, Steve.”

He looked around, took a deep breath. “Well, like. It is my kid, right? So…I’m not going to abandon it. Or you. I’m not…I’m not like that, I swear. I own up to my shit.”

“You just tried to tell me I was lying about it being yours for your money-“

“Okay,” Steve said, holding a hand up, “I get it. I’m sorry. I just panicked, okay? This isn’t exactly great news right now.”

“What about Nancy?”

Those words were like a bomb dropped in the tiny room. No one said anything - it felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out, like a vacuum. No one knew the answer to that question. What about Nancy?

“She’s going to kill me,” Steve finally said, burying his face in his hands. “Fuck. She’s going to break up with me for good.” He began rambling, his internal monologue spilling from his mouth without filter. “And what about my love life? No girl is going to want to go out with me with a kid on the way. No girl is going to want to go out with a dad at our age. And my parents? Jesus, what a fucking disaster-“

“Steve,” you said, cutting off his frantic rambling. “Calm down.”

He nodded, taking a few deep breaths. You’d never seen him so worked up. “Yeah. Okay.”

“We’ll take it one step at a time, okay?” you said, wondering how you ended up being the one comforting him. “We have time. There is a rush, but we have like 6 months. We…look, Steve, we’re gonna be okay, I think.”

He sniffled, and you wondered if he’d started crying. “Have you told your parents?”

Silence. “No.”

Steve nodded again. He ran both his hands through his hair this time, a nervous laugh spilling unprompted from his lips. “Oh, fuck. We are fucked.”

The bell rang, signaling the start of the next class you were now officially late for. You subconsciously rubbed a hand over your belly, adjusting your sweatshirt and high waisted leggings back to cover it as well as you could. Steve watched you, his eyes locked on the bump the entire time.

“Can I…feel it?”

The question caught you so off guard, you thought you might have imagined it. “What?”

“The…your stomach?” He felt so awkward. “Can I touch it?”

You blinked at him. The question was so out of nowhere, the last thing you expected him to say. “Oh…sure?”

You lifted your sweatshirt again and pushed down the waist of your leggings, exposing the skin again. Steve walked towards you hesitantly, extending his hand. Finally he reached you and placed his hand on your stomach. 

His hand was so big, the entirety of the bump fit beneath his palm. It felt weird to have him (or anyone) touching you like this. Steve had a look of awe on his face, his thumb caressing the firm skin. It was a tender moment, one you didn’t expect.

“It’s really real, huh?” Steve said quietly, almost to himself. “There’s really a baby in there? …My baby?”

You smiled gently. “Yeah. There is.”

Steve stayed there for a minute longer, just feeling. When he finally pulled away he didn’t say anything, just lowered his hand and watched as you readjusted your clothes. Just watching you.

“I guess we better get back to class,” you said. “We’re late.”

“Yeah. You’re right.” Steve laughed humorlessly again. “But I don’t think it matters much anymore. College is out the window.”

You hadn’t even thought about that. That made you feel sick, the idea of throwing away all the hard work you’d put in throughout your years in high school. Watching Nancy and Barb go on to Emerson without you. Not that they’d want you to come with them, anyway. They were going to hate you soon enough.

God, Nancy and Barb. How were you supposed to tell them? Hey, Nancy, I have some news - I’m having your boyfriend’s baby. You felt the panic rising in your own chest now, for about the millionth time since you’d found out. Steve stepped forward, a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, “it’s okay. Calm down, it’s…it’s not good for the baby. We’re gonna figure this out.”

His words surprised you, the way the tables had turned. He took deep breaths with you as you calmed yourself. “I just don’t know what we’re gonna do. I don’t even know where to go next. I’m-“

Steve said your name, grounding you to the moment. He pushed your hair behind your ear, eyes roaming over your face. He wondered if you had been this beautiful all along, or if you being pregnant with his child made you even more luminous.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take care of you. Both of you. Okay?”

You just nodded, stray tears escaping down your cheeks. “Okay.”

You had to trust him.

—

It was gym class that fucked you over in the end.

You had managed to get out of class since you’d started showing, with excuses about your period and headaches and stomach aches. But eventually your gym teacher got tired of it.

“You’re changing into your uniform and you’re running with us today,” she said. “No excuses.”

So you changed in the bathroom stall, which was already strange enough. You waited until the rest of the girls had left the locker room, including Nancy and Barb, before you walked out and stood in front of the mirror.

Oh, god.

It was worse than you thought. The bump was clear as day below your shirt, perfectly round beneath the soft thin material. You looked at your reflection in horror, smoothing your hand over it, wondering if there was anything you could do to hide this. But when your gym teacher yelled through the door for you to hurry up, you realized you were out of time.

It was coming out. Now.

You walked out of the locker room with your arms crossed over your stomach. You had never felt more exposed in your life. The girls were all sitting on the basketball court stretching, laughing and giggling with each other. You approached Nancy and Barb and slid to the ground next to them.

“Are you cold?” Nancy asked, immediately giving you a strange look. “Because I have a sweatshirt in my locker you can-“

You were about to take her up on that kind offer when the teacher blew her whistle, calling everyone to line up. You joined the rest of the class, and she gave you a look. She called your name - “Arms down. What are you doing?”

You felt like you were on stage with a spotlight directly on you. Every girl in your class was looking at you, wondering what the hell you were doing. You had no choice. You lowered your arms, and there was a collective gasp.

“Holy…shit…” Tina said, not even attempting to hide her laughter.

Nancy said your name softly, and you turned to face her and Barb. “What…” Nancy said, looking at you wide eyed and shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “What did you do?”

It was fight or flight, and your brain decided for you. You turned and sprinted back into the locker room, tears falling immediately. You were sobbing by the time the locker room door slammed shut behind you, but it opened again seconds later.

Nancy called your name again as she and Barb hurried to your side, wrapping their arms around you. You wanted to push them away. You didn’t deserve their comfort.

“How did this…” Nancy began, but she was at a loss for words. “Who…when did you…”

“I’m 14 weeks,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. “It was…Halloween.”

Nancy gasped. Her and Barb exchanged a look. “Why didn’t you tell us? Who was it? Does he know?”

Your hands were clenched into tight fists. “Yeah, he knows.”

“Who’s the father?” Barb asked again, since you hadn’t answered Nancy either time she had said it.

What could you do? It was time for the truth to come out, ready or not.

“It’s…” you drew in a gasping breath, choking on your own sobs. “It’s Steve’s.”

The room went silent besides the sound of your crying. No one moved. No one dared to move. It was like the calm before the storm, the peace moments before the tornado rips the roof off the house.

“Steve?” Nancy said finally, looking at you like you were dumb and had said something completely outlandish. “Steve…Harrington? My Steve?”

Her Steve.

“Yes,” was all you could say, your voice barely a whisper. “It was…Nancy, I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. It was at Tina’s stupid party, after you and Steve had that fight, we were talking and- just- one thing led to another, and-“

Nancy held her hand up, stopping you. Barb just looked between the two of you, her expression one of absolute shock. Nancy’s normally calm face had been replaced by a mask of pure fury, rage and disappointment and hurt. Betrayal.

“You…you slut!” Nancy spat, and she might as well have slapped you in the face. You recoiled, jerking back as if she had truly struck you.

“Nancy, I-“

“I don’t want to hear anything else you have to say,” she said, standing to her feet. Barb looked between the two of you before she stood, too. Her side chosen.

“I can’t believe you,” Nancy said. “You were really that jealous? You couldn’t stand the thought of me having a boyfriend - of me being with King Steve Harrington - so you had to jump in the middle, huh? Take him for yourself?”

“Nance, that is not it, we were both so drunk-“

“But you knew it happened,” she said. “You knew it happened, and you both made a fool of me. Pretending like you hadn’t…fucked each other, like everything was fine between us, like you weren’t keeping the hugest secret in the world.” She shook her head. “You know what? You two deserve each other.”

She turned them, leaving the locker room and going back to class with Barb following behind her. You stayed there on the floor, alone. You pulled your knees to your chest as close as you could and sobbed, burying your face in your arms.

You cried, and cried, and cried. But you had no right to feel like this. No right to be hurt. You were the one who fucked up. You really betrayed your best friend.

You were the scum of the earth.

Lunch was right after gym, and you didn’t know what to expect. You knew you weren’t going to be happily sitting at your table with Nancy, Barb, and Steve. But on your way to the cafeteria, in the deserted hall, you caught Nancy talking to Steve.

“Do you have something to say to me?” she asked him, her face just as angry as the last time you’d seen her.

“What?” Steve asked with an awkward chuckle. “Babe, I have no idea what you’re talking about-“

“Don’t call me babe,” she snapped, making his eyes go wide. “There’s nothing you think you should tell me?”

He noticed you then, standing off to the side. His wide eyes landed on you, then dropped down to your stomach. He looked back at Nancy. “Oh, fuck, Nance, listen-“

“No, you listen, Steve Harrington.” Nancy pointed a finger in his face, her own twisted in pure fury. “No one treats me like a fool. You think you can go around, fucking whoever you want, being as reckless as you want, then come to me with flowers and lies and act like nothing happened? Like you didn’t fuck my best friend?” Her voice broke at the end of her sentence, and your heart felt crushed in your chest. You realized the gravity of your fuck up - the cherished lifelong friendship you’d lost.

“Nance-“

“Don’t.” She looked up, trying to stop the tears threatening to fall. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever excuse you have for me, I don’t care. I don’t care that you were drunk. What you did is beyond forgiveness.” She turned and met your eyes again. “For both of you.” When she looked back at Steve, there was resolve in her eyes. “We’re over.”

Steve watched, dumbfounded, as Nancy turned and stomped towards the cafeteria. He felt helpless as he watched her go - the potential love of his life, at least that’s how it felt - over one, stupid, massive mistake. He turned around and punched the locker with a loud “Fuck!”, leaving a large dent in the grey metal.

You approached him cautiously, not sure what you should do, if anything. He turned to you with tears welling in his brown eyes. He looked devastated. You felt guilty about that, too.

“Steve, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Not now.”

You watched helplessly as Steve stormed off, leaving you alone in the hallway. You really were alone. Completely.

—

You had pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that your life was over. No friends, no boyfriend, the father of the baby possibly not involved. You didn’t know if you could trust Steve to stick around like he said, especially with the way he had left you earlier.

After school, you had to call your mom to come pick you up. You made up a lie about Nancy having a doctor’s appointment, and your mom told you she’d be there after work.

With time to kill, you ended up in one of the study pods again. You flipped through your physics textbook, no homework to be done. You had nearly fallen asleep when the sound of someone walking in startled you.

You looked up to see Steve, giving you a sheepish look as he settled into the small space. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey?” you said back, cautious of whatever he had come to say. With the way things were going for you, it couldn’t possibly be good.

“I just…” he sighed. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, about earlier. I shouldn’t have stormed off and left you like that.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry about…Nancy.”

“It’s not your fault. Well, not any more your fault than it is mine.” He huffed a short laugh. “We both knew this was coming, though, didn’t we?”

You supposed you did. It didn’t make it any easier.

“She was my best friend since kindergarten,” is all you could offer. Then, like a dam breaking, you burst into tears. You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed, wishing you could undo everything.

“Hey, hey,” Steve said gently, wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you into a tight hug, his large hand rubbing your back soothingly. It helped, surprisingly. You knew you were soaking his polo shirt. “You’re okay. Breathe for me, alright? You’re okay.”

You tried to breathe slowly, following the slow up and down of Steve’s chest. Eventually you were breathing with him again, slow and steady. “Good,” Steve said, and even the rumble of his voice through his chest was soothing. “Can’t have my baby mama freaking out on me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. Steve was good at getting you to smile when it felt like you never would again, that was for sure. He put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you back slightly to look at you. His face was etched with worry as he took in your puffy bloodshot eyes. “I mean it, you know. It is going to be okay.”

“What about Nancy?” you asked, lip wobbling as you thought of your former best friend again.

“Nancy…” Steve sighed. “I hope she’ll come around. You know, things won’t be the same, but…”

But she might not hate your guts, you finished the thought in your own head.

“You’re not upset that she just broke up with you?” you asked.

“Of course I am,” he said, letting out a sigh. “But you’re my main concern.”

“Me?” You were taken aback. “Why me?”

Steve let out a disbelieving laugh. “Really?” He placed a hand on the bump, an affectionate gesture. “That’s my little nugget in there.”

Something about the way he said it sent heat to your cheeks. It was the most affection you’d received from him since you told him. And it was…nice. You hadn’t had anyone to be excited about this with you, to talk about the future and baby names and whether it would be a boy or a girl. You wouldn’t have any friends jumping to throw you a baby shower or anything, but maybe Steve could be that support for you.

“Yeah,” you said simply. “It is.”

Steve smiled softly at you. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to either of you. I hope you know that. You have my word, and I don’t go back on my word. I was a boy scout.” He held up a salute. “Scout’s honor.”

You laughed. It was incredible to be feeling lighter than you had in months. Steve had that effect on you, somehow.

“I may not know how to be a dad,” he said, “but I guarantee I’m going to be the best one.”

—

Steve kept his word. He stuck by your side. It didn’t take long for the news to spread around the entire school - not just that you were pregnant, but that it was Steve’s, and that he and Nancy had broken up.

Nancy was still furious. You hated that you had dragged her into this with you, that the whole school was laughing at her for being so clueless. It wasn’t her fault and she didn’t deserve that.

Steve didn’t let anyone say anything to you. The first time Tommy tried to give you shit, Steve punched him in the face. Somehow, they were still friends.

Steve walked you to every class, carrying your books for you and not letting you lift a finger. You sat with him at lunch, ignoring the dirty looks from Carol. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to be friends with her. That was okay with you.

He started picking you up for school and bringing you home. Usually your parents weren’t home in time to see him, but on this particular day, 16 weeks into the pregnancy, they were.

“Maybe you should come inside,” you said, looking at Steve with your brows furrowed, worry etched in the lines formed on your face. “Meet my parents. Maybe…maybe we should tell them.”

Steve took a deep breath. “Look, parents usually love me, but I’ve never had to tell some I got their daughter pregnant.”

You laughed lightly. “Yeah, well…I figure we have to.”

You climbed out of the car, pulling your sweatshirt back on. Steve followed, placing a hand on your back as you both walked up the sidewalk to the front door. When you entered the house, the smell of pasta greeted you instantly. Your mom was in the kitchen and your dad was sitting in his recliner, watching TV.

“Hi, honey,” your mom greeted you without looking up as you walked in. When she finally did look up, she let out a little “Oh!”! at the sight of Steve. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know we’d be having company tonight.”

Your dad looked over, suddenly interested. He eyed Steve, like he was thinking or he knew him from somewhere. “Mom, Dad, this is Steve,” you said, hands in the pockets of your sweatshirt. You could feel the bump beneath your hands,

“Hi. Steve Harrington,” he said in his usual charming way, moving to shake your mom’s hand first and then your dad’s.

“Harrington?” your dad asked, eyebrows raised. “Are you related to Richard Harrington?”

“That’s my dad,” Steve said, his cheeks turning red. You wondered what Steve’s relationship with his dad was like.

“I work for your dad,” he said. “Have since before you were born.”

“Oh,” Steve said awkwardly. You cringed - that was going to make this whole situation even more uncomfortable.

“So what’s the occasion?” your mom asked with a smile as she put the lid back on the pot. You hated that you were about to ruin their good mood.

“Um…Mom, Dad, I have something I need to talk to you about.” You gestured between you and Steve. “Something we need to talk to you about.”

Your mom was instantly concerned, your dad suspicious. “What about?” she asked.

“You might want to sit down.”

That made their worry even worse. Your dad turned the TV off as you and Steve took a seat on the couch, your mom coming in to sit on her chair. “Okay…” she said, “should I be scared?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. Your dad reached over and grabbed her hand. You looked at Steve, who gave you a soft reassuring smile before grabbing your hand. He squeezed it, and you squeezed his back. You took a deep breath and looked back at your parents. The guilt ate at you. “I’m pregnant.”

There was only silence. Your mom covered her mouth with her free hand, tears coming to her eyes. Your dad looked dumbfounded, neither of them knowing what to say.

“And…Steve is the father?” your dad finally asked.

“Um…yes, sir,” Steve said, blushing furiously. Because wasn’t announcing a pregnancy basically telling people ‘hey, we had sex!’? There was only one way we got here.

“Oh, jesus,” your mom said.

“Are you intending to marry her?” your dad asked.

It went silent again.

“S-sorry?” Steve stuttered, his eyes wide.

Your dad looked angry now. “Are you planning to marry my daughter? Make an honest woman out of her?”

“I…I-“

You knew your dad was traditional, but you didn’t expect him to demand you get married. You were only 18. You and Steve weren’t even together.

“Dad, come on,” you said, pleaded. “Don’t do this. It’s humiliating.”

Your dad said your name sternly. “You don’t understand how serious of a situation this is, clearly. Your reputation is going to be drug through the mud. Both of you.” Your dad looked between you. Steve felt as if he was being scolded by his own father - no, that would be worse. “You need to get married. Be together for this child. I know the Harringtons can take care of you.”

“Dad!”

“Look, we’ll revisit this,” your mom said, drawing everyone’s attention. “What’s important right now is this baby. Do you have a doctor? Have you been going to appointments? Taking prenatals?”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” you said.

“No, I’m not done-“ your dad interrupted, but your mom cut him off.

“No more. You’re stressing her out. It’s bad for the baby.”

“Stressing her out?!”

“Steve,” your mom said, ignoring your dad entirely. Steve was grateful for the interruption. “Are you planning to stick around? Be a dad?”

“Of course,” he said instantly. No hesitation whatsoever.

Your mom smiled. “Good. That’s what matters. We can talk about marriage later.” 

Steve paled again.

“This is ridiculous,” your dad said. He stood, walking over to the phone on the wall. He angrily dialed a number, then pressed the phone to his ear.

“Dad…?” you said, dreading whatever he was about to do. “Who are you calling?”

He ignored you. Then, finally- “Mr. Harrington!” he greeted the man on the other line.

Steve looked as if he might pass out. You gripped his hand tighter. “Dad, don’t do this. Please don’t do it like this.”

“Mr. Harrington,” he said into the phone. “Did you know your son is at my house? With my daughter?” A pause. “Yes. Well, apparently, we’re going to be in laws.”

You closed your eyes, the embarrassment and dread physically painful. Steve was nervously bouncing his leg so hard the whole couch was shaking. Your mom stood up, trying to talk some sense into your father, but the damage had already been done.

Your dad held the phone out towards Steve. “He wants to talk to you, son.”

Steve walked over to take the phone like he was walking to his own execution. His hand was shaking as he took it from your father’s hand, then held it to his ear. “…Dad?” He held the phone away from his ear as you could hear the man screaming from where you sat across the room.

“Dad, listen…I-yes, I did, but it-…yeah, I was seeing Nancy. It’s a long story. I-…she’s not a-…okay. Yeah. Okay. See you at home. Yeah. Bye.”

Steve hung up the phone, looking completely dejected. This had gone way worse than you expected. Steve was horrified. You felt guilty once again, that you were putting Steve through this and that you had let your parents down. They didn’t even know about the whole Nancy’s boyfriend thing yet.

“I gotta go,” Steve said to you, looking apologetic and sad. He put his hand on your upper arm, thumb caressing it over the material of your sweatshirt. Then, surprising you, he put his hand on your belly. He smiled down at it affectionately. “Bye, lil’ nugget.” He looked at you again. “See you tomorrow.”

Even with Steve gone, the tension in the room was still high. Your mom was looking at you like she couldn’t believe her baby girl was doing things like having sex and getting pregnant. Your dad looked at you like you’d disappointed him greatly. You didn’t know which was worse.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and freshen up for dinner,” your mom finally said, forcing a kind smile onto her face.

“Okay,” you said. You were grateful for the excuse to get out of this room. You hurried up the steps, heading into your bathroom to pee for the millionth time that day and then take a shower. You stared at your body in the mirror when you got undressed - it was weird, the changes it was going through. You looked so different already, and it wasn’t even halfway through yet. Almost, though. That thought was terrifying. 

After your shower you blow dried your hair, then walked into your bedroom wrapped in a towel. You collapsed back onto your bed. Your back hurt, your feet hurt, and you still weren’t even that big yet. God, how embarrassing will it be to go through graduation super pregnant? You hadn’t even thought of that. The whole school watching you knowing what you did. And Hawkins was small. This would follow you forever.

You dressed in a t-shirt and comfy pants, brushing your hair out and doing something with it. You didn’t have the energy to put in much effort. You didn’t even put on any makeup before you went downstairs, taking a seat at the table and putting a serving on your plate. It was still tense, like you’d interrupted a heated conversation. You didn’t want to put stress on your parents’ marriage, too. You had already caused so much collateral damage.

After dinner, you waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, just as you were starting to doze off, the phone next to your bed rang. You snatched it off the receiver so fast it barely had time to make a sound.

“Steve?” you said quickly, praying it was him and that he was alright.

“Hey,” he said, his familiar voice bringing you a weird sense of peace. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” You couldn’t believe Steve was worried about you first amidst all of this. “Are you okay?”

He sighed deeply. “Yeah. My dad is pissed. Both my parents are furious.”

“Oh,” you said. “I’m so sorry, Steve.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. But, uh…they want to meet you.”

You froze. “They want to meet me?”

“Well, yeah. You’re having their grandchild.”

When he put it like that, it sounded so much bigger. You put a hand on your stomach, rubbing in circles around it. “Okay. We can do that.”

“It’s not just to yell at you, I promise,” he said with a slight chuckle. “They got that out of their system with me tonight I think. They just want to know you. They want to be involved with the baby.”

“Okay,” you said again. “Um…when?”

“Friday maybe?” he asked. “You can ride home with me after school.”

“Alright.” It was quiet again for a while. “I’m glad you’re okay, Steve. How are you feeling with the whole…Nancy stuff?”

He sighed. “It sucks. I’m not gonna lie to you. I miss her. I miss her, like, a lot. She won’t even look at me. It hurts.”

You felt terrible. “Steve, I’m so sorry. This is such a mess.”

“Yeah, it is.” You could almost hear a smile in his voice when he spoke again. “But it’s not all bad. I’m…kind of excited to be a dad.”

Your eyebrows flew up. “Really?”

“Yeah. I always wanted to be a dad.” A beat of silence. “It’s earlier than I wanted, sure, and I’m not even sure what we’re going to do, but I know that we’re having this baby and I’m going to love them and be the best dad. Better than my dad.”

His speech made you feel fuzzy inside, your heart beating hard in your chest. You hadn’t thought about the good parts yet. You’d been too stressed with Nancy, Barb, your parents, Steve’s parents, college…maybe being a mom wouldn’t be so bad.

“You gonna coach little league?” you asked, smiling. You felt giddy, like a teenage girl kicking her feet and talking to her crush. Only, you didn’t have feelings for Steve like that.

“Oh, yeah,” he laughed. “I am! I’m looking forward to it. I played baseball, basketball, I was the captain of the swim team…”

“Wow. I knew you were a jock, but I didn’t know you played so many sports.”

“Good at them, too.” The pride was evident in his voice.

“Are we gonna have a little sports prodigy?”

“God, I hope so.”

You laughed. Steve made you feel a way you truly didn’t understand. It was like butterflies in your stomach, goosebumps on your skin. You remembered what it felt like to kiss him, to-

“What if they’re more like me?” you asked. “Will you be disappointed?”

“Like you?” he said. “What, smart as hell? No, of course I wouldn’t be disappointed. I’d be so proud to have a genius kid.”

“Genius?” you laughed. “I am not a genius.”

“You’re super smart.” A pause. “Our baby would be lucky to be like you.”

Your heart beat harder. “Steve-“

“Oh, shit. I gotta go. My parents grounded me and put me on a curfew.” He scoffed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.” When you heard the click of him hanging up the phone, you felt disappointed. Like you missed him immediately. Your fingers itched to call him back.

You made yourself turn off the lights and get into bed instead. Your head was plagued with thoughts of Steve. You couldn’t think of anything else. You had visions of him holding a newborn baby, playing with a rambunctious toddler, playing baseball with a kid, smiling with a teenager. You had a whole life ahead of you with Steve. You, Steve, and your baby.

You wondered if it would be a boy or a girl. You didn’t know if you had a preference one way or the other. As cliche as it was, you just wanted a healthy baby. You felt like you needed to grow up fast now. It wasn’t just you you had to worry about, you had to think of this baby all the time now, first.

You thought you liked being pregnant. It felt nice to carry the baby with you, to be so impossibly close to them, having them inside where they’re safe. Despite the morning sickness (which had thankfully come to an end), you would maybe miss being pregnant after having the baby.

You drifted off eventually to those thoughts- feeling content.

sorry i forgot the taglist!!

@crispystarfishhottub @luveediary @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @melaninjhs

[phoenixrisingastro]

🔥 MERCURY IN THE HOUSES: HOW YOUR MIND CONTROLS, SEDUCES, AND DESTROYS 🔥

Your Mercury placement is not just the way you think—it’s the way you control the game.

This is the art of words, persuasion, seduction, and psychological warfare. Mercury isn’t just talking. It’s planting thoughts in people’s heads like seeds of obsession. It’s how you manipulate reality with your voice, your text, your silence.

This post isn’t just an astrology guide. It’s a manual for control.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 1ST HOUSE: THE MIND AS A WEAPON

You don’t speak words—you declare them. You don’t talk to people—you imprint yourself onto them.

✔ Your mind is your face, your aura, your power. People don’t even realize how deeply you influence them until it’s too late.

✔ Charisma? You don’t need it. You already command attention just by existing.

✔ Your weakness? Overexposure. If people figure you out too soon, they can escape before your spell is complete.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 2ND HOUSE: THE SILKEN TONGUE

Your voice is a currency, a temptation, a sin. It drips with sensuality, certainty, control.

✔ You could sell water to a drowning man—and make him thank you for it.

✔ Your words don’t fade. They linger, they echo, they haunt. Every compliment, every insult—it stays.

✔ You memorize details like a thief watching his mark. The way people move, their tells, their insecurities. You store it for later.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 3RD HOUSE: THE SHAPESHIFTER

No one ever truly knows what you’re thinking. Your words dance, deceive, delight.

✔ Your intelligence is a knife. Sharp, quick, slicing through illusions like butter.

✔ You can read the room in 0.2 seconds—and shift your persona accordingly.

✔ Your greatest strength? You can make anyone feel like you’re their best friend. Even if you don’t mean it.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 4TH HOUSE: THE SHADOWED ARCHIVIST

Your mind is a haunted mansion. Every word spoken to you stays forever.

✔ You don’t forget. Ever. A slight, a compliment, a whisper—you keep everything.

✔ People find your voice comforting, familiar, dangerously intimate.

✔ Your speech carries weight. It’s like an old book, full of mystery, wisdom, and spells.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 5TH HOUSE: THE GOLDEN LIAR

You speak in stories, in seductions, in glittering illusions.

✔ Your words are a stage. You can make people fall in love, believe in magic, and follow you blindly.

✔ Your humor? Wicked. You know exactly how to disarm people with laughter.

✔ People mistake you for lighthearted and playful—until they realize you were orchestrating everything.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 6TH HOUSE: THE CODEBREAKER

Your mind is a machine, a system, a perfect algorithm.

✔ You see the flaws in everything—people, plans, lies.

✔ You fix, repair, optimize—but sometimes you overanalyze to the point of madness.

✔ You dissect every interaction, every phrase, every silence.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 7TH HOUSE: THE SWEET SABOTEUR

You know how to mirror people’s desires back at them.

✔ Your words feel intimate, personal, like a whispered confession.

✔ You control conversations effortlessly—making people open up, trust, surrender.

✔ Your words are a velvet dagger—soft, beautiful, but deadly.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 8TH HOUSE: THE TELEPATH

Your mind is a black hole, absorbing secrets, desires, and fears.

✔ People don’t just listen to you—they feel you.

✔ You know what people don’t say, what they’re hiding, what makes them tick.

✔ Every conversation with you is an interrogation disguised as a confession.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 9TH HOUSE: THE PHILOSOPHER-PLAYBOY

Your words feel like prophecy.

✔ You ignite minds. People feel changed after speaking with you.

✔ You can make anyone believe anything—because you believe it first.

✔ Your thoughts are bigger than the present. You think in decades, in lifetimes, in centuries.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 10TH HOUSE: THE COMMANDER

Your voice is authority, law, prophecy.

✔ People trust your words like scripture.

✔ You don’t just speak your mind—you declare it like an order from the gods.

✔ Your intelligence is not just respected—it’s feared.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 11TH HOUSE: THE CULT LEADER

You think in revolutions.

✔ Your ideas spread like wildfire.

✔ People don’t just follow you—they become loyalists.

✔ Your mind is 10 steps ahead. You see patterns, shifts, movements before anyone else.

🔥 MERCURY IN THE 12TH HOUSE: THE ENIGMA

Your thoughts are hidden, layered, infinite.

✔ You pick up on the unspoken, the supernatural, the karmic echoes.

✔ Your words feel like riddles, prophecies, forbidden knowledge.

✔ People trust you without knowing why.

© PhoenixRisingAstro, 2025. All rights reserved

[eomayas]

distracted • hjs

pairing: husband&dad!joshua, wife&mom!reader, established relationship

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!! fluff, parent au, non-idol au

synopsis: reader is literally just feral for joshua

warnings: pwp, p in v, oral (m receiving), riding, praise, dirty talk, soft!dom!josh, breeding, josh calls reader a ‘slut’ (lovingly) once, reader & josh are parents, reader losing her mind over josh mainly. JOSHUA ARMS. unedited ;)))

a/n: i’ve experienced extreme joshua brainrot lately then did an extreme deep dive of jarms (joshua arms) until 2 in the morning. i am unwell and need him like a fish needs water

joshua pushes the shopping cart that holds groceries, and your daughter in the front of the basket, down the aisle. you trail a step or two behind them, mind a bit foggy and… distracted. you don’t know what it is, he’s just wearing a plain, white tshirt and blue jeans—he’s worn it before—and you’re running errands together like you always do. but today is different, and you can’t seem to comprehend a single thing going on around you, or really look at your husband without feeling mild insanity.

first, you’d wandered into the store in a daze, forgetting that joshua was grabbing the shopping cart with your daughter, after having sat in the front seat watching him drive for twenty minutes. his hand sat steady at ten and two, ever the safe driver when your daughter was present, though at stop lights he would sometimes grab your hand or settle his palm on your leg. you felt lost since the morning, woke up with your mind cloudy and your brain foggy just at the mere sight of him.

then, you couldn’t remember a single thing on your grocery list. in your clouded state, you must’ve forgotten the list in the kitchen; it wasn’t a big deal, except for the fact that you literally couldn’t think about a single thing that you needed to buy, and you are usually the one leading the pack around the store. so the three of you have been wandering around the grocery store for longer than you want to be, circling back to the same aisles you’ve already been on because you can’t remember what it is you need to buy.

now you’re back in the dairy aisle, unsure of why you’re back because youve already grabbed milk and cream cheese, so you’re just standing in front of the cold, double doors without a single thought in your head. “yogurt, maybe?” joshua tries, pausing his conversation with your child to help you out. you blink once, twice before mumbling out a ‘right’ and pulling the doors open and grabbing a container.

“mommy, that’s not the right one!” your daughter whines when you drop it in the basket. she’s frowning at you, eyebrows crinkled the same way joshua’s do. god. you make the mistake of looking up at him, and your entire body flushes you meet his gaze. his eyes are soft but questioning, asking if you if you’re alright without actually saying it. no, i’m not, you think to yourself, discreetly sweeping your hand up your neck to check your pulse. it’s fast, and you’re definitely still alive.

joshua watches you with mild concern; he’s noticed your strange, avoidant behavior since this morning when he got back from the gym. you had looked almost surprised when he walked into your bedroom, like you weren’t expecting him back. your eyes widened, and your lips parted like you were going to say something but nothing came out. he beat you to words, anyway, giving you a soft ‘good morning’ that made you blush—he’d ignored it because you seemed… off—and kissed you on the lips. he thought he really smelled with the way you rushed your lips off of his and rolled out of bed, nearly tripping over your own feet. joshua grabbed you so you wouldn’t fall, and he felt you tense in his hold, a frown etching on his features. he brushed it off and asked if you wanted to shower with him, expecting a ‘yes’ from the look that flashed through your eyes, but you instead mumbled something about having to make breakfast before hurrying out of the bedroom all together. you basically avoided him all day since then, never really looking at him or talking to him directly—none of which you do on a constant basis.

the yogurt was, in fact, incorrect down to the brand and flavor. “i’m sorry, baby,” you say to your daughter, running a hand over her hair before grabbing the yogurt to swap it out for the correct one, this time taking a few seconds to scan everything in the fridge. you appreciate the cold air from the refrigerator, as it cools you down from the rush of heat you feel along your face and neck. you take a breath and tell yourself to get a fucking grip before dropping the correct item into the cart.

“daddy, can i get ice cream?” your daughter asks joshua as you start ambling through the grocery store. you cut your eyes at your daughter for not asking you, but you know it’s because joshua never says no to her.

“of course, princess,” and you watch with pure adoration as he places a kiss on her forehead and she just giggles, scrunching her shoulders up to her ears. joshua is a good husband, but he’s an even better father, and you love watching him interact with your daughter. they have a special connection that you love to witness, a secret language just between the two of them. it’s moment like this where you want another kid—or maybe it’s part of the hazy mess you’re in because of his sheer existence.

you follow behind joshua towards the ice cream aisle. the shirt he wears is tight on him, straining against his biceps and shoulders. you can make out his back muscles depending on how the light hits the fabric, and you feel even crazier than before. his muscles have been the source of your you distracted state today. joshua has always been muscular, and he’s always worked out, but something about him recently has flipped a switch in your brain that has made you feel absolutely feral every time you catch a mere glimpse of his arms—which is quite literally every day. this morning it was too overwhelming, him coming home and shedding his jacket to reveal himself in a simple black tank top that looked a size too small, and gray sweats that made you feel like you needed to go to confessional.

another rush of cold air pulls you out of your lustful daze and you stand at the back of the shopping cart as joshua shuffles through the cartons of ice cream, asking your daughter her input. you try to keep your eyes focused on your daughter, anything else, but cant help when they drift over to your husband, his arms flexing each time he grabs a pint and displays it to your daughter. joshua casts a glance at you, a smile that says can you believe this? when you daughter shakes her head for the fourth time, despite not asking to look for herself. you blush under his gaze, heat spreading down your neck and chest before settling in your stomach.

"i thought you liked the oreo one?" you say to your daughter, voice slightly hoarse. you smooth a hand over her hair to give yourself something to do, hands a little clammy from all of your nerves working overtime.

"i do..." she trails off, turning to look at you with a tiny pout on her lips.

"tell daddy before he freezes," you say, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. just the mere reference to joshua feels heavy in your mouth, makes your stomach flutter for reasons you can't really explain.

joshua places the pint of oreo ice cream into the cart, circling around to the front and playfully ticking your daughter under her chin. she giggles loudly and you smile as you watch her become a spitting image of her father. arms cage you between the carts handlebar and a firm chest, and suddenly your eyes are no longer on your kid but on the strong, veiny forearms that belong to your husband. “excuse me,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt to his voice like he knows that you’re losing your mind at the simple sight of him.

wordlessly, you gently grab his right arm to remove yourself from his entrapment. “hey,” joshua says softly, reaching out for your wrist as you move swiftly to get away from him. turning, goosebumps arise on your skin, and you tell yourself that it’s because his hands are ice cold. “you okay, honey?” your stomach flips and you press your lips into a small smile, nodding.

joshua stares at you for a beat before leaning down a few inches, silently begging for a kiss. you nearly combust at the thought, not trustworthy of yourself to behave normally in public. but his eyes are fond, and you love him so much and want him so bad that you raise up on your toes and brace yourself on his shoulders before delivering a soft, quick peck to his lips. you’re proud of yourself for holding back, but joshua isn’t satisfied because he stays leaned over in the spot you kissed him in for a few seconds after the fact that you’ve pulled away. if you were at home, he’d yank you back to him but because you’re in public he files that grievance away and straightens up.

“i want a kiss,” your daughter pouts, cutely crossing her arms over her chest. since she doesn’t specify from whom, both of you lean in and press kisses to her cheeks. her giggle ripples through you, filling your stomach with butterflies and your chest with a type of love reserved only for her. you’re momentarily pulled away from your joshua shaped daze, until his hand is settling on your lower back. it chilling, his touch, and it’s not because his hands are ice cold from standing in the grocery store freezer for two minutes.

a shiver runs up your spine and you slip out of his grasp, not paying attention to where or what you’re walking into until joshua is pulling you back into him, his hand splayed across your stomach and your back colliding with his chest. “babe, watch out,” a woman pushing a cart stops short, a look of remorse on her face.

“oh my god, did i hit you?” she asks, and you figure you must look injured or something, because she looks genuinely concerned for your wellbeing. the flush on your face is not due to the fact that you were almost ran over, but because joshua hasn’t moved his hand from your stomach and hasn’t put any distance between your back and his front. he stays pressed against you, holding you firmly in front of him, his hold tightening ever so slightly.

“n-no, i’m alright,” you manage, lips tingling. “i swear.” you add when her eyebrows don’t drop from her hairline. at that, she seems to believe you enough snd offers you a smile and a curt nod before hurrying down the aisle.

“are you alright, honey? you’re trembling,” joshua says, his deep voice like melted wax running down your back. you make the mistake of looking up and over your shoulder at him, his palm pressing into your lower belly.

he peers down at you with soft eyes, ready to question you again until your tongue darts out to wet your lips before you tuck your bottom lip under your top one and nod. he knows the look in your eyes all too well—hunger, but not for food—and heat pools in his chest. joshua is much better at hiding his desire for you, especially in public and in front of your child, and he’s able to keep his expression the same, pretending he never saw that look in your eye. “i’m fine,” you’re shuffling away from him again, this time checking to make sure you’re not seconds away from being ran over with a shopping cart.

somehow, you three mange to finish your shopping trip without anymore mishaps. it requires circling back to the same aisles more than once because neither you nor josh can remember what you wanted to buy, but at least you can say you’re done. joshua loads the groceries into the trunk while you buckle your daughter into the backseat. she yawns, stretching her little arms up and out. “sleepy?” you ask her, a small smile on your face.

“no,” she says, vehemently shaking her head. you chuckle hum a sound of disbelief before dropping a kiss on her forehead and going to the front seat. the trunk closes and you suck in a breath as you watch him in the rearview mirror. he brushes his hand through his hair, and even through the mirror and the tint of the trunk window, you can make out his bicep muscle flexing with the motion.

it’s nearly pathetic how horny you feel just looking at him—like an overgrown teenager who just got into their first relationship. except you’re an adult, married to this man, and this behavior is no longer considered ‘cute’.

joshua gets into the front seat and smiles at you, leaning over the console to give you a kiss. his hand rests on the side of your neck, and you wonder if he’s trying to check your pulse, to mess with you. you keep your hands to yourself, because if you touch him, you might never stop.

pulling back from your mouth, he looks into your eyes before flicking them back down to your lips. joshua starts to lean in but seems to remember you’re not alone, and sits back in his seat, his hand lingering on your neck for a moment before he starts the car and asks your daughter if she’s ready to go.

the car ride is quiet, save for your daughters yawns and insistence that she is not tired. she makes most of the noise, talking about random things that you and joshua entertain with ease. he watches her in the review mirror with real, unconditional love in his eyes. it does nothing to help your situation, and just makes you want to give him another baby.

when you arrive back at your house, you quickly get out of the car, grateful to get out of the stuffy, suffocating feeling of being in the front seat. you walk around the back and help your daughter out, ready to carry her inside until she exclaims, “i want to help!”

you ser her down on the ground and she runs over to joshua. you watch him give her two of the lighter bags of groceries, and raises her arms to show you, a big smile on her face. you smile back and press in the garage code and tell her to go inside of the house, seemingly leaving you and joshua alone. you sidle up next to him, and joshua lightly bumps his hip into yours. “hmm?” you question without looking up from the numerous bags in the back of the car.

“why are you avoiding me?” he asks, and the directness makes your hands clam up.

“i’m not avoiding you,” you say, taking a few grocery bags and backing up from him.

“you quite literally are.”

you stare up at him, his eyebrows knitted together in slight irritation. “i still love you, if that’s what you’re asking,” you clarify. his features soften and his shoulders relax a bit. those shoulders. your eyes drifts down his figure, lingering on his flexed forearms, veins bulging out from the tension of carrying the grocery bags.

joshua watches you obviously ogle and check him out, his entire figure relaxing at his realization. “oh, i get it now,” he teases, a slow smirk sliding across his lips.

“get what?” you play dumb, taking a tentative step backwards before turning around and trying to keep your walk casual as you walk through the garage. it’s so obvious you’re trying to keep space between the two of you, putting anything in the way to keep you off of him.

“that you wan-“ joshua cuts himself off because you push open the door that leads you into the house. he clears his throat and closes the garage door before following behind you into the kitchen. your daughter is standing on her tippy toes trying to reach a cupboard that’s way to high for her, concentration etched on her face. “need help, bub?” he asks, setting his bags down on the counter.

“i can’t reach,” she whines, yawning immediately after. joshua lifts her up into his arms and opens the cupboard for her abd allows her to put the item away. “i’m tired, daddy.” she rests her head on his shoulder, tiny arms encircling around his neck.

you watch them and you feel your heart grow three times in size, like the grinch. joshua coos at her and pats her head before agreeing to put her down for a nap. you busy yourself with unloading the groceries, stomach flipping at the thought of having at least an hour alone with your husband. you can’t believe how depraved you feel.

joshua comes back downstairs a few minutes later, right when you’re putting the last thing into the fridge. “you finished?” he asks. you nod, heart hammering in your chest as he walks over to you. his hands drop onto your hips, pulling you flush against him. you keep your eyes straight ahead, leveled wirh his chest, and joshua dips his head down to meet your eyes. “see: you’re avoiding me.”

hear creeps up your neck and you shake your head. “i’m not.”

“don’t try to gaslight me,” he teases, making you roll your eyes and finally look up at him. “there she is.” he murmurs, leaning down a few centimeters to connect your lips. your hands flatten against his chest, and he walks your backwards into one of the kitchen counters. joshua leans over you, trying to press you flat against the surface despite the lack of space.

“shua,” you breathe once you pull away when he unbuttons your jeans.

“what, you’ve got somewhere better to be?” he asks, arching one of his eyebrows.

“i… i have to do laundry…” you say halfheartedly. joshua laughs at this, dropping his forehead against yours. “i’m serious!” you say, but you’re smiling too. “i want to go back to avoiding you.”

joshua pulls back to look down at you, making a face that says for what? “i thought you wanted me to fuck you?”

“yeah, i’m afraid nothing will keep me off of you if we start,” you say honestly. joshua blushes deeply, a boyish grin on his face. “i want you so bad—i think i might be ovulating? i don’t know. i just want you so. bad.” you punctuate the last part with the press of your knuckles into his chest.

“you’re ovulating?” it’s like bells went off in his head.

“maybe, i don’t know. i don’t keep track of that shit. i just need an explanation for how i feel,” you say, hands sliding along his chest absentmindedly.

joshua raises both of his eyebrows at you, fake shock on his face. “maybe because you have a super hot and sexy husband who is also a really good father? just a hunch.”

“no, i don’t think that’s it,” he rolls his eyes at you and you giggle, balling his shirt up into your fists and pulling him down to you. joshua grips onto the counter to steady himself, his hold tight enough to turn his knuckles white. he presses his pelvis into yours, his his erection pressing against your leg.

joshua wraps an arm around you and splays his hand across the small of your back. he presses you down onto the counter and you grip his shoulders tightly, craning your mouth away from his to breathe out, “not here.” he pulls you up from the counter and looks down at you, his chest moving up and down quickly. you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he thinks about a place to fuck you that won’t bring attention to the two of you. “laund-ah!” he swoops you up into his arms easily, already carrying you in the direction of your laundry room before you can even get the entire word out.

you wrap your legs around his waist as you buzz with need and anticipation. you let yourself revel at being carried by him after lusting over his arms all day. he carries you like you’re weightless, with his his hands resting under your ass for support. “god,” you whisper to yourself, pressing a kiss into his neck.

“i love you,” he rasps as he enters the laundry room. he shuts and locks the door behind him before dropping you onto the washing machine. his hands are flying to undo the buttons of your blouse and you pull him closer using your ankles that are still wrapped around him.

“love you more,” you murmur, helping him with removing your top. “your turn.” your urge, pulling the hem of his shirt.

“sure you can handle it?” he teases. you flush and lightly push at his abdomen. “don’t wanna make you pass out or anything.” he smirks at you, loving to watch you squirm.

“i can handle it,” you say, feeling so embarrassed to even be in this position. luckily, joshua is sweet to you above all and draws you in for a kiss. you skate your hands up underneath his shirt, nails lightly scratching against his torso. “take it off.” you mumble against his lips, hands pushing up the material of his shirt. you feel like you could rip him out of the fabric.

joshua pulls back and makes an entire show of getting undressed. he runs a hand through his hair and purposefully flexes his bicep as he does so. if this was any other time, you’d roll your eyes and call him annoying. but today, all you can do is watch and try not to drool.

he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into an empty laundry basket nearby. you waste no time leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. you move to kiss his jaw and then his neck, your hands sliding down his body. you kiss across his chest, going lower until the position becomes uncomfortable. lightly shoving him, you hop off of the washing machine and drop to your knees in front of him.

joshua watches you with dark eyes, holding onto the edge of the machine. you fumble with his belt, hands shaking with anticipation of finally having him, and he makes no effort to help you out. your hands work too fast, and you mess up when you try to pull the buckle open for the second time. “i’ve got all day,” he say smugly. you ignore him, and finally pull his belt free. you work his pants down to his ankles, leaving. him in just his briefs. you let out a breath and look up at him with pure lust. “as pretty as you look right now, you’d look much better with my cock in your mouth.”

quickly, you pull his underwear down and let them pool together with his pants, hands flying to grab ahold of his member. you pump him a few times, flicking your eyes to look up at him. joshua gives you a slight nod, signaling you to start sucking, and you eagerly oblige. sticking your tongue out, you lick up the precum that dribbles out of the tip before you wrap your lips around the head and push him into your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you go. a groan escapes joshua’s mouth and he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you drag him into your mouth inch by inch, your eyes never once leaving his. his chest heaves up and down, moving faster and faster the closer you get to taking him all the way. tears prick in your eyes when he hits the back of your throat, but you keep going until your nose nearly presses into his hips. “shit,” he whispers, leaning more of his weight into the washing machine.

you bob your head up and down, pulling back and stroking what doesn’t fit. you swirl your tongue around the tip, cheeks hollowing to create more suction when you suck on the tip. joshua moans lowly above you and tells you how good you’re doing. his eyes flutter shut, squeezed shut in pleasure and his chin drops down to his mouth. you want his eyes on you, want him to watch you as you make him feel good, so you purposefully scrape your teach against his dick to get his attention.

his eyes fly open as he jerks back from you, glaring at you when you smile around him. “brat,” he spits and tightens his grip on your hair. you sigh through your nose and press your thighs together, cunt throbbing with need. you keep bobbing your head, speeding up slightly and taking more of him into your mouth. when joshua presses your head down, you relax your throat and let him take control, hands moving to hold onto his thighs. “good girl.” he grunts, holding your head down on his dick for a few seconds until you gag, and then he pulls you off of him.

he does this a few more times, his cock twitching against your tongue. tears gather in your eyes but you power through, determined to make him cum. he pulls you down onto him, cursing each time he hits the back of your throat. “fuck, you take me so well. i’m c-close,” tears slip down your cheeks and mix in with the spit and cum. your face is a mess, but neither of you care.

joshua fucks his cock into your mouth, holding your head steady in his hands. you dig your nails his thighs to combat the ache in your jaw. he thrusts into your mouth until he can’t take the feeling of your warm mouth around him anymore, his cum shooting into the back of your throat. you keep your mouth open to catch all of his seed, some of it gathering around the corner of your lips. “s-swallow,” he demands when he pulls his cock away from your mouth.

you obediently swallow, and he whines in the back of his throat. “goddamn, i love you,” he holds his hands out to you and helps you up onto his feet. he wipes the corners of you lips with his thumb and shoves it into your mouth, lips parting when you suck on his thumb like you just did his cock. “youre such a slut.” he murmurs, a loving gaze in his eyes.

a trail of saliva connects your lips to his thumb when you pull it out of your mouth. “promise?” you ask.

joshua smiles and pulls you into a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. his hands make use of unbuttoning your jeans and shoving his hands down your pants. your panties are damp, and he’s a bit shocked and honored that you’re this wet for him. “i need you,” you whine, peppering kisses down his neck. you don’t even want his fingers, just want him inside of you.

“i know,” he rasps, slipping a finger between your folds. you shudder when he touches you, his finger playing with your arousal and brushing over your clit, just to make you jump. you clench around nothing, and it’s nearly painful how turned on you are.

“joshua!” you whine, nipping at his neck. his hand immediately grabs onto your hair and yanks, a hiss emitting from your lips followed by a smirk.

“needy brat,” he grumbles, walking the two of you over to the work bench in the room. he drops onto it and spreads his legs invitingly. you quickly step out of your jeans and underwear, his eyes roaming over your body. “you’re a beautiful, y/n.”joshua says sincerely; at the end of the day, he is simply a lover boy.

you smile at him and quickly drop yourself onto his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. you reach between the two of you and position yourself over his cock. his hands grip onto your hips tightly and guide you down onto him, bottom lip drawing in between his teeth.

“ah-fuck!” you cry when you sink onto the tip, the initial stretch rippling through you.

“you’ve got it, baby,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing sift circles into your hips. you bite down on your bottom lip, hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders as you sink lower and lower onto him. “goddamn, girl.” he grunts, hips bucking when you clench around him.

when you manage to take all of him, you sit still and catch your breath, head resting on his shoulder. joshua unhooks your bra and you lean back to slide it off your arms. “you okay?” he asks, hands groping your chest.

“uh huh,” you rasp, taking it as a sign to start fuckign him, licking your lips and raising your hips before dropping onto his lap. “fuck, shua.” whimpers leave you lips as you fuck yourself onto him, using his shoulders as leverage to move yourself up and down. joshua relaxes into the wall, his grip on your hips loosening as you gain momentum and find a rhythm.

“you’re so tight,” he groans, one of his thumbs finding your clit and rubbing slow circles around the sensitive nub. “been thinking about fucking you all day.” joshua sighs and rubs your clit quicker, eyes peering up to watch your facial expressions. “you need me as bad as i needed you?” he mumbles, voice low and husky.

“more,” you pant, still bouncing up and down on him. your cunt clamps around him like it’s trying to keep him there. “shuaaa!” you whine, thighs burning. you sit on his lap, rolling your hips into his.

he chuckles breathlessly, rolling his other thumb over one of your nipples. “yeah? tell me,” he grins at you devilishly, this side of him only coming out in your intimate moments.

“so bad,” you cry, grinding down onto his lap. “w-wanna give you a-another baby.” you squeeze around him involuntarily, a knot forming in your stomach. joshua twitches inside of you at the mention of having another child.

“yeah? want me to fill you up?” you whimper and nod, legs starting to shake. “want me to fuck you full of my cum until you’re pregnant again?” he lets go of you breast to place both hands underneath your ass. he lifts you up and drops you down, a show of his strength as he fucks you up an down onto him.

joshua grumbles filthy things into your ear; tells you that he’s gonna fuck you until you can’t walk, that he’s gonna stuff you full, that’s he’s going to give you another baby tonight. “f-fuck! i-im gonna cum,” you cry, throwing your head back in pleasure. he bucks his hips up into you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly.

spots blur your vision and your cunt spasms around him as you reach your climax. it hits you like a thousand bricks, and you’re shaking in his arm and crying out his name. you expect him to stop, but he keeps thrusting up into you, drawing out your orgasm further. you can hardly think through the waves of pleasure, which is why you hardly register that he’s lifted you up until you’re placed on a cold surface.

joshua drags you to the edge of the washing machine and slams his cock into you, nearly knocking the wind out of you. “o-oh my god,” you gasp, tears brimming in your eyes for the second time tonight. “you feel so good!”

he drives his hips into you brutally, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. “f-fuck, i’m not gonna last,” he groans, dropping his head into your neck. he kisses your skin and lightly bites, though not hard enough to leave marks. you cling to him, arms secured around his shoulders like you may fall if you dont hold on.

his thrusts get sloppier by the second, indicative of his nearing climax. “i love you,” you breathe, nails clawing at his back. he grunts, whining out curses as he cums inside of you, his dick twitching between your walls. he stills, fingers applying bruising pressure to your hips.

after a few moments, he lifts his head from your shoulder and looks at you, a tender smile on his face. he presses his lips to your gently, sighing against you as he goes soft. “shit,” he pants, followed by a light chuckle.

you can’t help but giggle back, running a hand through his hair. he doesn’t want to pull out, not yet at least, wanting to make sure his cum stays inside of you as long as possible. he lets go of your thighs and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. you kiss the column of his throat, right on his adam’s apple and rubs soft circles into your back.

“we should clean up,” he murmurs, starting to draw back from you. you make a sound of disagreement and squeeze around him on purpose. “b-brat.” he stammers, curling away from you.

he pulls out of you with a lewd squelch, both of you turning light shades of pink at the noise. he helps you off of the washer and you lean against it. he finds a random towel and comes back to wipe between your legs before cleaning himself off and tossing it in the same basket he threw his shirt in. “i guess i could start a load,” you say, looking at all of the discarded clothes, making joshua laugh.

he helps you gather them up and drop them into the washer. you add in the detergent and slam the top closed. except, when you go to start the washer, joshua places a hand on your back and presses you flat against the washer and slots his knee between your legs to spread them open. you don’t get a chance to prepare yourself because he’s pushing into you again, a strong arm wrapping around your middle to hold you steady as he fucks into you from behind, determined to get you pregnant tonight.

[fluoneia]

further continuation of pitfighter!vi | part 1 | part 2

sypnosis. vi left an impression on you more then you thought she did. but, you left even more of an impression on her. and you can’t control a feeling like that, can you?

warnings. dom!vi, lowkey hate sex, use of a strap on, lots o angst !! (in the beginning), uhh i tweaked the timeline a lot so this doesn’t exactly follow everything going on. bear w me!

damn.

you were surprised vi stayed true to her word. it was two months since she initially left. you tried to move on with your life, forget her, and try to remember that she was with that someone that she mentioned.

if she stayed, that means she’s happy. right?

right?

stupid feelings. truth was, you wanted her to come back. she wasn’t just any other client to you at this point.

god, how did you get yourself into this mess? you vowed to not get involved with a client. yet, here you were.

“you seem distracted.” your friend, and co-worker says while she combs through your hair. you’d gotten close to her over the past two months, her being your only viable source of comfort in the moment.

you frown as you look into the mirror.

“it’s nothing.” you shake your hand, glancing down to your hands.

“are you sure?” asta cocked a brow as she placed the comb down. “come on. you’re acting so weird lately.”

you run your thumb over the indents of your palm, following your fingers.

“well..” you start, “i.. there was a client. around two months ago. she was..” you snort, “different, that’s for sure.”

“.. okay..” asta looks into space as she thought.

“she told me she wasn’t coming back— that she couldn’t. her heart was taken by this enforcer girl. said she couldn’t give her up.”

asta is quiet for a second. you turn to look at her. “.. so, what i’m getting from this, is you’re getting your heart involved in a client you took twice.”

“what?” your back straightens. “no! no, my heart isn’t involved, i’m just.. curious. that’s all.”

“uh-huh, okay.” asta snorts with a roll of her eye. “who is this, anyway?”

“oh, uh.. her name is vi.”

asta’s eyes widen so far her eyebrows shoot up. “the fucking vi? as in the vi everyone here hates?”

“i guess so.” you frown.

“hah! no way you’re falling for that little sadistic fuck.”

“asta!” i cry.

“i mean, seriously, y/n! she’s no good, especially for you.”

“i’m a whore in the undercity. i’m not exactly amazing.”

“still, though. i can’t believe you wound up having to take her as a client twice, i mean, are you alright after that?”

you glare. then, you smile at the memory. “actually..” you feel a blush creep on your cheeks. “you’d be surprised. it’s not just her that got to take control.”

“you.. vi? being submissive? oh, you’re crazy.”

“crazy good.” you snort, pushing off your chair. “besides, i’m not falling for her.”

“yeah. sure you aren’t.”

“i mean, i can’t, anyways. i’ve already made that mistake before and i’m not about to make it again. my heart is never being involved with my clients ever again.”

asta takes a second to respond. then, she says, “you know, sometimes it isn’t all that bad.” she shrugs. “i met my husband through this business.”

“it does more harm then good. plus, aren’t you two having problems because of the job that you met in?”

“well.. kind of. but still.” she places a hand on my shoulder, “not everything in your life has to be dictated because of what you do as a job to survive. it’s rare you feel a connection with your clients, right? especially you.”

“i don’t have a connection with her.”

“you keep telling yourself that.” asta chuckles, “that’s what i said about my husband before he started courting me.”

“whatever!” i cry, pushing her hand off me. “i have a client.”

“don’t go imaging it’s vi!”

“ugh, shut up asta!”

a week later, you’d made up your mind. obviously, vi wasn’t going to come back. it’d be best for you to just move on.

your hands tighten around eachother.

so damn stupid. you were so damn stupid. your feelings were so damn stupid— she went to you out of convenience, nothing more.

she was under the influence, on a sex drug nonetheless. you went too far with her. you never should have given in to her pleads in the first place.

“come on, slow-poke.”

you still.

“slow-poke is a bit cocky for you to say. i recall you saying i was moving too fast, when i tried to—“

“okay, are we seriously talking about that right now?”

you’d recognize that voice anywhere. it was haunting your thoughts for the past two months.

and you don’t dare lift your head. you feel your breath pick up as you glance forward.

your breath catches in your throat as your eyes land on her. on vi. what the hell was she doing here?

without another thought, you flick your hood over your head. your body curls in on yourself, staring at your feet as you walk forward, moving past her.

“you used to be all over me,” a posh, matter-of-fact voice says. “now, you can barely even look at me.”

“we’re on a mission, caitlyn. we’re not talking about our relationship right now.”

her voice becomes louder as you grow near.

“when will we?”

“soon! just.. just not now.” vi grumbled.

you try to ignore the warmth in your skin as you knock shoulders with her as you pass.

“hey! watch where you’re going—“

vi stops herself as you glance over your shoulder.

you watch as her eyes flicker, the redness seeping into her skin as she flushed.

“wha.. y/n?” she says in almost a whisper.

your eyes glide toward the girl beside her. a pretty woman, with sharp features and rich, navy hair, tied into a ponytail. she held herself so well.

no wonder vi was so enveloped in her.

vi feels like her heart is about to burst out of her chest. she glances toward caitlyn, who gives you a weird look as you stare at her.

what. the. fuck.

that’s all vi can think.

her eyes flicker between you and caitlyn.

vi watched as you slip the hood off your head. you bring your head up with an inhale, forcing a strong front.

“.. hey, vi. funny seeing you here.” you say in that soft tone that’s been haunting her thoughts and her dreams for months since you’ve been apart.

“you know this girl?” caitlyn says as she stares at you. you glance toward caitlyn, brows furrowing. she stared at you like you were filth— and you probably were, body being tainted by the hundreds of hands that have touched the most vulnerable of all— your body.

vi swallows. “yea.. yes, um—“ she closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “old friend.”

old friend? really?

you glare at her.

“can i, um.. can i have a second to talk to her? alone?”

vi’s hand rests on caitlyns shoulder. her skin looked so soft— so clean.

you try to ignore the flame of jealousy in your chest as caitlyn’s hand rests atop of vi’s, before nodding her head once.

“don’t take long.” caitlyn lets her hands drop to her sides. vi gives a small nod, shoulders relaxing as caitlyn steps back, moving out of earshot.

and then she turns to you.

“i thought you said you were never coming back.” you frown as your arms cross on your chest.

“this isn’t me coming back.” vi says curtly. “we’re on a mission.”

“a mission? are you some sort of enforcer now?”

vi says nothing.

you freeze.

“you.. you’re an enforcer.”

“temporarily.” vi raises a hand, “it’s not anything to do with—“

“just go.” you spit. “an enforcer from zaun. it’s not an honour to be labelled that, violet. you’re a pawn in whatever plan they’ve conjured up.”

“it’s a plan to help zaun.” vi says in a whisper as she glances at someone passing. she winced. “can we talk about this elsewhere? preferably not in an open alleyway?”

your eyes shift to the caitlyn girl she treasures so much. she’s staring at the two of you.

“or we could just not talk.” you push off the wall you’d been resting on, “continue on with your mission. you have no use of me, by the looks of it.”

“actually, i do. someone we’re looking for passed through babettes brothel, and we need a—“

“i’m not helping you with this.” you shake your head. “find another worker there to interrogate.”

“y/n.” vi says firmly.

“stop saying my name like that.” you narrow your eyes. “just because you were my client doesn’t entitle me to help you with your stupid investigation. you were a client to many there— ask them.”

“i was more then just a client and you know it.”

her face tightens with anger.

“not really,” you tut your tongue, “you paid, and i gave. nothing more.”

“you can’t be serious.” her hand finds your arm, and she leans closer, glancing around. “you took my virginity. that’s not nothing.”

“you were hardly a virgin when we first met.”

“yeah, not in.. that sense, i wasn’t.”

you hated that she was right. virginity was a prized thing for most people— hell, you used to hold principles like saving your virginity for marriage. and now, look where you were.

but, much like other people, you never forgot your first. a boy from piltover— you were young and naive, much like violet.

“i should have never done that.” you shake your head, “that was too far of me.”

vi’s eyes soften. she glances back at caitlyn, before looking to you. she steers you away, moving out of eyeshot.

“it’s not that i.. regret it. if that makes any difference.”

you huff.

“you said you weren’t coming back. yet, here you are.” you gesture.

“for a different reason.” she tightens her grip on my arm, “come on. help me with this investigation and i’ll leave you alone. for good.”

but that isn’t what you wanted. you didn’t want her to leave— you didn’t want her to be her right now, with her new prized girlfriend, but she was still here. you hated how your heart jumped with glee at that fact.

you inhale a deep breath, clenching your jaw.

“fine. i’ll help you.”

vi exhaled in relief. “thank you.” she whispers. her hand loosens on your shoulder, before slowly slipping off, her fingers trailing over your skin.

“what’s the big deal, anyways?” you furrow my brows.

“cait will tell you everything.” she cocks her head behind her. you nod your head, and follow her as you walk back to caitlyn. it hit you that she was tall, and it made her even more menacing— towering over you with a mean look on her face. you couldn’t tell if that was just her face, or she just didn’t like you. probably both.

“so she’ll help, then?” caitlyn says, turning to vi.

vi nods. “yeah.”

“i can’t promise i’ll actually be of help to you.” you cross my arms on your chest. “just because i agreed to tell you what i know doesn’t mean it’ll be any use.”

“worth a shot, right?” vi shrugs. i give her a brief nod.

“we can’t talk about this here.” caitlyn says.

you sigh. “we can go back to my house. it’s just ‘round the block. but again— i only have an hour.”

they give a nod of agreement. you inhale a deep breath, before paving a way back toward your house.

suddenly, you felt unconscious about your living space. you hadn’t cleaned it, and there was no doubt clothes left on the floor, leaving it a mess. you mentally curse yourself as you unlock the door, pushing it open.

“make yourselves comfortable.” you mumble, kicking some clothes out the way.

vi doesn’t take another glance at the house as she walks inside, following behind you. caitlyn hesitates, looking around the messy room, before following suit.

i grab a glass of water, jumping up onto my counter.

“alright. so, what did you need me for, exactly?” i look to caitlyn.

caitlyn slowly turns her head toward you. “oh— yes, um..” she clears her throat, obviously distracted. “a few days ago, someone passed through the brothel you work at.”

she fumbles through her bag. your eyes glance toward vi, who leans against the counter parallel to you, crossing her arms on her chest. the blue outfit just looked so.. off on her, yet, she still held herself the same.

she didn’t seem that bothered by the mess— partly because she’s seen it before, and partly because she’d already been in your house, in your bed—

stop it.

caitlyn places a sheet of paper on the island. i pick it up.

“have you seen this girl?”

your eyes move around the paper. you had seen this girl before— quite an oddball, but she was funny. blue hair, tied into long braids. your eyes train on the JINX — PILTOVER, WANTED.

“uh.. yeah.” you nod. you’d never expect her to be a wanted criminal, but who wasn’t down in the lanes?

“how? where did you see her last?” caitlyn says. there’s a gleam in her eyes as she leans closer.

“well.. maybe two or three days ago she came around the brothel during my shift. she was a client.”

vi pushes off the table abruptly. “you took my sister as a client?!” she stalks toward you.

“well, yeah.” you shrug. your eyes widen as you realize. “we.. no, she didn’t want anything.” uou chuckle at the memory, “she just wanted to talk.”

vi seems to calm down, her shoulders slouching. you give her a brief look, before turning to caitlyn.

“she.. i don’t know why she came to a brothel to just have a chat, but she isn’t the first one to do that. it’s honestly not that weird for clients to just want to talk like normal people when they have no one else.”

“i didn’t give it that much thought. i don’t remember much about her.”

you glare at vi. “not that it’d be any of your business what happens with my clients.”

vi puffs a breath of air through her nose, ripping her gaze away from you. she didn’t understand why she was so.. so jealous, so riled up over the memory that you still worked at the brothel, that you still took clients, that other people were touching you.

she had no right to be possessive, yet, here she was.

“.. anyway.” caitlyn clears her throat, brows furrowing as she senses the tension between you and vi, “what can you tell me about her? did she say anything about where she was going?”

you shake your head. “we talked for the hour she paid for, then she left. that was it. i didn’t see where she went.”

caitlyn sighs in frustration. vi looks to her, “this was a big waste of time.”

“it was the only lead we had.” caitlyn pushes off the wall. “if we ask some of the other workers, they’ll probably have seen the direction she went.”

“at this point we’ll miss the last departure. it’s too long of a walk back to piltover if we want to be safe.”

“we can’t leave while the trail is hot! if we wait another day, it’s just another night wasted.”

you h ump off the counter. “just stay here.” you place your glass in the sink, “i have a guest bedroom.”

that was a horrible idea.

it was like your mouth was on autopilot as you say this— stuck on the fact that if vi left now, you’d never see her again. it was stupid if you to offer, yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from doing it.

caitlyn glances toward you. then to vi. she raises her eyebrows as if to say, “well?”

oh, and vi was even more stuck. seeing you again drove her crazy— much less sleeping in the same house again. no doubt it’d grab at her head, keeping her awake at the last memory in this very house.

her chest puffed as she tried to regulate her breath. she wasn’t sure if she could handle herself in such close proximity to you again. it’d surely drive her mad.

but, she too was stuck on the fact that this might be the last time she saw you.

so, vi nods. “sure.” she chokes. her voice is tight as she avoids her eyes, glancing down at her feet.

you huff at the memory of your shift.

“the guest bedroom is just down the hall. make yourselves comfortable.” you move past them, shoulder grazing with vi’s— on purpose, on accident, you couldn’t tell. “i’ll be back soon.”

you still as you see caitlyn move out of the kitchen, glancing around. once she was out of earshot, you back up a few steps.

“oh, and, vi?” you lean closer to her, moving to her ear. “try to control yourself. i can sense your tension from a mile away.” you rest your hand on vi’s shoulder. “if you want me to take care of that.. another time, yeah?”

you pull away without another word, giggling under your breath. you pat vi’s shoulder as you slip away, grabbing your coat and bringing it around your shoulders.

and as you close the door, you leave vi’s head in utter shambles again.

she stands in the same spot, mind processing your words.

try to control herself? after you’ve just said that, and you’re looking like the most beautiful women she’s laid her eyes on?

fat chance.

she’ll get you eventually.

you were released early from your shift, as the night was slow. you kind of dreaded getting back to your apartment, knowing both vi and caitlyn were there.

you wanted to help them. honestly. but you werent sure what would.

your mind recalled the memory of that jinx girl.

you remembered you tried to advance on her— assuming that’s what she wanted, like many other clients. but she stopped you.

she surely wasn’t well. rambling on about life and death, about family, and about how no one can be trusted, and all that.

and after that, she disappeared as soon as she payed. you turned to say goodbye, but she was already gone.

you huff as you open your apartment door, slipping your coat off your shoulders. you hear laughing from your living room, and walk toward it.

as you turn the corner, you see caitlyn and vi laughing together.

“vi, i’m serious!”

you linger in the background as you watch them.

“i mean, the look on my fathers face. he couldn’t believe it at first.”

“well, you won’t be able to get rid of me, anyway.”

your face tightens as you watch her place her head on caitlyns shoulder. she spins a pen in her hand.

“i’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake.”

you decide to leave it alone there.

you step back, running a hand over your neck. so she was happy. you grimace as you walk down the hall, entering your bathroom.

“stupid.” you’d whisper to yourself.

here you thought you had vi wrapped around your finger. but really, you were wrapped around hers.

asta was right, anyway. she was no good for you, and you were no good for her. she was right in the fact that your heart was involved. it was involved tenfold.

you were stupid to ever think that you and vi had a chance.

you were a whore from the undercity. she’s an enforcer now.

nonetheless, she was still from the undercity. she was still a zaunite, just like you.

you strip yourself of your clothes. you step into your steaming shower, and let the water run over your body, your hair.

you close your eyes as you try to drown out your thoughts.

it wasn’t until midnight you left your bathroom.

the house was quiet. you deemed that they had gone to sleep, and move toward your room.

you throw on one of your favourite sets— a gift from a reoccurring piltover client from when you used to work there. you loved the silk texture, the white pearly fabric.

and since you hadn’t eaten much today, you move toward your kitchen.

you huff as you walk down the hallway, quiet against the hardwood floor. you grab your glass from the sink, turning on the tap.

“y/n.” a voice says behind you. you jump, spinning around.

“oh. it’s just you.” you sigh in relief as your eyes land on the familiar black of her hair. vi sauntered toward you, leaning against the counter.

“i.. i had a question.” vi whispers. her voice is laced with sleep— she had stayed up to talk to you. alone, finally.

you stare at your hands as you pour the water down the sink, picking up a bag of pretzels. “and what’s that?”

vi bit her tongue. then, she spoke. “what did you mean, before?”

you furrow your brows.

“when you said.. if you want me to take care of that.” vi shuffles. “you said, another time.”

you still. youd forgotten youd said that— mostly to test the waters around her.

“what did you think i meant?” you hum, placing a pretzel on your tongue. you lean your hip against the counter parallel to her.

vi says nothing.

“look— if you’re gonna act clueless, whatever.” you scoff. “but don’t rope me into something that’ll just cause a mess.”

you turn away from her.

as you move, your stopped by a hand on your wrist. she yanks you backward, your back landing harshly on her chest.

you gasp.

“i don’t really care if it causes a mess.”

you feel her breath on your shoulder. her hand smooths over your hip, pulling you against her.

“you’ve been messing with me ever since we bumped into eachother in that alleyway.”

you stare harshly at the wall in front of you. her thumb dips into the fabric of your shorts, resting it there.

“and you show up in these little shorts and expect me to contain myself?”

you feel her lips against your ear.

“what’s with the sudden switch up?” you say breathily, head leaning against her shoulder.

“you know what you’re doing.” violet scoffs against your ear. you feel your skin blaze alight as she presses her lips to your neck. you feel her tongue glide across your skin.

“violet.” you say harshly. you’re not sure how you feel about the sudden change in the air— vi wasn’t the girl she was last time she was here, no, she was how she was in the brothel the first night you met.

this girl really did give you whiplash.

“this is wrong.” you say, hand placing over the hand on your hip. despite your words, you lean into her touch. “aren’t you with caitlyn?”

vi stills for a second at caitlyn’s name. “one more night can’t hurt.”

“that’s what i thought the last time we met.” you hum, leaning into her touch. “one more night.”

vi spun you around, stalking forward, pushing you back until your back hit the counter. her arms caged around you, her eyes so dark, so unrecognizable.

all night, vi had been thinking about how you’re working your shift, having other people touch you. all night, she thought about you.

all she wanted right now was to distinguish herself from the others— to prove to you that unlike all the others, she cared. she cared for your pleasure, she cared for you, despite her mind screaming at her that she shouldn’t.

another wave of jealousy washes over her. she leans closer, hands gliding over your stomach, pushing up the silk shirt.

“you remember how you said to stop thinking so much around you?” vi says with a smirk, nose touching eachothers, her lips parted. you feel her breath on your skin, her hands on your stomach. they truly did feel warm, so calming, so right, unlike the others who have touched you there. you didn’t feel violated under vi’s touch, you felt.. comforted. it gave you a chance to actually feel the pleasure of another persons hand, rather then focusing on giving pleasure.

her hand splays against your back. her lips were so close to yours, merely one movement away. you wanted nothing more then to feel them again.

“that’s what i’m doing.” vi says, voice husky. “cmon.” she gives a toothy smile. “don’t leave me hanging here, cupcake.”

and it’s like everything changed.

your face closes to a deadpan. you push her off, slamming your fists on her chest.

“wha..” vi gives you a look of confusion.

“you’re so.. arrogant!” you lower your voice as you remember caitlyn is still there— the same caitlyn that vi had said that same nickname too a mere few hours ago. “and stupid!”

“what the hell are you talking about?” vi’s brows furrow.

“that nickname.” you spit. “you’d dare to call me that after using it on caitlyn?”

her mind recalls the memory.

i’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake.

her eyes widen. truth was, she was thinking about you when she said that. she said it because she’s your dirt underneath your nails. she came, and now she’s never going to leave, like a thorn in your side.

“really?” vi deadpans. “that’s what you’re worked up about?”

you purse your lips.

she lets out a chuckle that only fuels your anger. she takes a step toward you, before lowering her voice.

“i knew you were listening.” vi explained, “i was saying that to you.”

you still.

“though, this jealous side of you is kind of cute.”

“shut up.”

“just saying. now, can you stop throwing a fit? kind of holding myself back here.”

“ugh, shut up!” you cry before you grab her face, crashing your lips against hers. vi stilled for a second, taken aback, but she feels a rush of passion flow through her body.

her hands are on you in an instant— clawing, grabbing at your clothes so roughly. her lips are just as you remembered; soft. yet this time, they held a sense of dominance unlike the last time you kissed her.

she hummed against you. and you feel so much.. anger, hatred, jealousy, desire. vi was enjoying this way too much, and you hated that.

you feel her hands on your hips once more, her tongue gliding against your bottom lip, as if asking for permission. you give it by pushing your tongue past her lips, her own finding yours as they tangle and dance for a sense of dominance— to see which way will overtake.

but vi leaves no room for argument. her fingers dig into the skin on your thighs. you squeal as your brought from the floor, her hands holding you up as she picks you up.

your legs dangle loosely around her torso, hand smoothing into her hair, pulling, tugging, holding on so she’s forced to never leave.

you didn’t really know where you were going, but now, you were moving. her tongue glided through your mouth, running along your teeth, your tongue, your gums, everywhere, forcing herself through every part of your mouth until there was nothing left.

and oh, did you miss this feeling.

this feeling of passion, of lust, of desire. this feeling of recklessness. you both know you shouldn’t be doing this— but who can stop desire?

you realize she had guided you to your room when you feel your back hit the fur of your bedspread. she pressed herself between your legs, pulling away from you.

“fuck..” she whispered under her breath, hands smoothing up your stomach, cupping your barely clothed breasts.

“don’t talk.” you loose out, grabbing her face again and pulling her lips back onto yours. she takes that as an understanding, fingers unhooking every button oh so slowly.

you lift yourself off the bed to tear the shirt off your shoulders, throwing it to the side.

vi’s eyes flicker as she pulls away, looking at your body. her eyes land on your budding breasts. just so fucking beautiful. every bit and piece of you was perfect in violets eyes, and she hated how she felt that way.

“i missed you.” she whispers, both forgetting and ignoring your demand of silence. she pulls away, taking her jacket off of her shoulders. clothes fly in a haste, leaving you both naked in mere minutes— well, you naked. she kept her bandages on.

you can’t help the next thing you say. “missed me or missed my body?” you huff, sitting up on your elbows.

vi’s brows furrow. her nose twitches, before she crashed her lips back against yours without a word.

ah. got it. you’d think.

whatever. you shouldn’t have expected much with a hookup.

truth was, vi didn’t know. she didn’t know if her actions were based off purely lust, or something else. she tried not to think about it much— she couldn’t think much, anyways. you were just so soft, so beautiful.

her hands smooth over your body, and you were so drunk on her touch you decided not to care about anything else. her hands, touching you, possessing every part of you.

vi’s lips leave yours, trailing kisses down your jaw, onto your neck. you relish in the feel of her tongue, of her teeth scraping against your skin. her hands, smoothing over your thigh, toying with the strand of your panties. you feel your mouth go agape as her tongue glides over your neck, leaving red splotches, marking you.

you gasp as you feel her hands quiver over your clothed core, pressing so gently it made you whine. she was toying you, being so gentle when she knew you wanted her to be rough.

“don’t think i’ve forgotten.”

you couldn’t process her words— not when her fingers slipped underneath the cloth and dipped into your slick. your head throws back, a jolt of pleasure ripping all throughout your body. a shock to your nerves— finally, a touch that was pleasurable.

“oh, you’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”

your brows furrowed. what the hell was she talking about?

you let your mind fog again when her fingers dip inside of you, pressing so deep. you gasp, feeling your skin grow ablaze, the ache in your stomach only growing. you grasp onto the bedsheets, shocked at how fast this was moving— ten minutes ago, you were accepting the loss of whatever this relationship was. now you were thinking, what the fuck is wrong with me?

“you’re gonna feel everything i felt that night.”

she says this so close to your ear. you feel her breath on the shell of your ear, her teeth nipping at your skin.

“though, you won’t be under a drug like i was. i’ll just have to make up for that.”

her fingers press up as if to further move her point. you let your eyes close, body leaning toward her, hips pressing against her wrist.

“where do you keep those things, hm?”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you huff, eyes slowly opening to look at her.

“you know,” she leaned closer. oh god, her eyes. that smirk. you were done for.

your brows furrow as you thought. her fingers slipped out of you, causing you to frown at the loss of her touch.

she ran a hand through her hair as she looked around, before reaching over you to open a drawer. your eyes catch on the glimpse of her bicep, a glimpse of the tattoo that ran down her back. gods, it only turned you on further.

“ah.” she says. you’d hear her fumble with something before moving back to you.

and your eyes shift to the thing in her hand.

one of the strap ons you owned— and never used, just by the sheer size of it. black, girthy, and big.

“nonono, violet—“you back away from her. she could not use that one, not now.

“oh, yes.”

there’s a certain gleam in her eyes as her hand grabs your hip, pulling you closer to you.

“told you.” she says as she leans back, fumbling with the straps. “i’m gonna get you back.”

you were in for it now.

for someone who’d never used a strap on before, you were pleasantly shocked.

you’d moan into your pillow as her hips slam against yours, over and over and over again. her hand smoothed over your back, pressing it down so your hips pushed up.

you’d never felt this.. this good, this full.

your entire body shook, every bone weak and practically useless. it took everything in you to hold yourself up, to not pull away from her, from her hips.

“oh—“ you groan, “vi!” you’d lost yourself, suddenly not caring about your voice. once vi realized that, she dragged her hand under to your chest, pulling you flush against her.

her hand moved over your mouth, silencing your cries.

at the new angle, she only pushed deeper.

your eyes widen, every nerve, every muscle twitching and shaking with pleasure. you couldn’t handle it, you simply couldn’t.

“not so tough now, huh?” she huffed, her voice out of breath and tight. you feel her being her hips back, just barely, before pushing back into you with such force you felt tears well into your eyes.

how could one woman have this much stamina?

you’d lost count at the amount of climax’s she’s brought you to.

she abruptly pulled out of you, flipping you over, pressing your back against the bed. it was like your body was drained of any sort of will— her strength easily able to manhandle you in every way she could, every position she wanted you in.

she placed herself back inbetween your legs. you saw that smirk on her face, so cocky and confident.

you couldn’t form words to comment something about it.

she brushed her hand over her forehead, inhaling a deep breath of air.

“i kind of like this.” she said breathily as she lowered her hand, aligning the tip of the silicone cock to your hole. as you feel her push back inside you, you let out a damned scream.

she’s quick to cover it, lips pressing against yours to silence your cries.

your legs touched either side of the bed, her hands pinning them down. your hips ached at the stretch— your core ached at the raw stretch the strap-on gave you, and as she pressed further deep inside of you, you swore you saw stars.

“god, oh, i— fuck!” you cry against her lips, hands gripping so hard on her back, nails digging into her skin, leaving crescent marks on her shoulders.

“shh, shh..” she hushed, hand smoothing across your thigh as a sense of comfort, yet, it only riled you up more.

she was so deep, so insanely deep— somewhere surely no one’s ever touched before.

“wouldn’t want anyone to hear you, would you?” she’d taunt, “see you in this position..”

her hips pull back, before bullying her way back into you, at such a slowed, tedious pace— to mess with you, no doubt.

you didn’t care. you didn’t care for anything— you couldn’t, not after this. you were sure you’d never felt anything like it— it was even better then the first night at the brothel.

“i— i can’t—“ you’d cry, head pushing into the pillow to hide your face. you just.. felt so fulfilled.

“oh yes, you can.” she mumbles, eyes flickering over every expression you’d made, engraving it in her mind.

her hips were flush against yours, filling you to the brim. her body pressed against your chest, her hands moving to grip onto the pillow on either side of your head.

“oh, fuck.” she said so softly, wincing as she felt the pressure against her own clit. then, her hips pulled back, and slammed right back into you. she found out, in this new position, it also gave her pleasure.

with how sensitive she was, even the short amount of pressure could help the ache between her legs.

a gleam found her eyes.

her pace became faster, harder, like a damned piston jolting inside of you.

you bite hard into your lip, hands falling limp and falling on either side of you.

“a little longer, princess..” she huffed into your ear. “come on, you can take it.”

“no, i—!” you cry, legs clamping around her torso. “mmmph—“

“just..” she let out a sharp exhale, adjusting her hips so the base hit her clit just right. she moaned into your ear, eyes rolling back, and the sight was just so damn beautiful.

you feel the cord in your stomach grow hot, your body shaking with every thrust she made.

at this rate, you weren’t sure how much you could handle— it was too much vi, so much vi, you were going to go mad. vi, vi, vi.

“oh, vivivi—“ you whined, your body riling itself up, again and again, over and over, each thrust bringing you closer to the familiar taste of an orgasm.

you were scared. scared of the feeling, of the pure pleasure that coursed through your body each and every time. scared of that feeling, of that blinding— oh, god!

your eyes shut closed, your legs clamped around her as that familiar snap of your orgasm flooded through you.

“say my name.”

“v..” you attempted. and then, you deflate against the matress. “vio..”

“come on, you can do it.”

her hips were relentless, forcing you through your orgasm. your body aches with overstimulation, threatening to burst with each and every second.

“say my name.” she says it more directly, nearly damn demanding you to. her voice is a growl against your ear, her hips picking up in pace.

“oh, violet!” you cry, voice cracking.

vi let out a loud moan, her head pressing against your neck, whining against your skin.

and then, she deflated above you.

your body jolts and shakes with every flow of energy, every flow of pleasure. you were so fulfilled, so full, finally getting what your body had been aching for, begging for.

a proper fuck.

a proper fuck from vi.

you had vi. and that was all you needed, even if it was only for the times being.

you yelp as she flips you over, resting you on her chest. she pressed her hips deeper inside of you, and you gasp.

“n.. no! no, no more.” you cry, your head falling against her chest.

“don’t worry.” she says as she caged her arms around you, hands resting tightly on your waist. her hands run up your back. “i won’t push you.”

you let out a sigh of relief.

you fell into a silence.

it was hard for your body to recover from your orgasms when the strap-on was still inside you, pressing into that spot. with every shift she made, you felt your body rile up again.

a beat of silence.

another.

you hear your click tick. you feel her chest go up and down with her breath. you hear her heart beat.

.

.

“i missed you.”

she says this so softly. her arms tighten around your torso, her nose nuzzling into your hair.

“not your body.”

a/n. uh.. hey.. sorry this took so long LOL anyway this kid kind of rushed i apologize and it kind of sucks but blushes thank u for all the support on this little mini saga that stemmed off a one shot 🤗

taglist. @just-levyy @princesssmars @thesevi0lentdelights @kissyslut @devotedlyelectronicartisan @cheyisagirlkisser @maracujais @n1shuu @vivispace @elliecoochieeater @izu-lu @wanna1be0 @honeybunbunnie @yariany02 @dumblilb @lalalalal16 @vyvvycg @ayooooohush @slvtformilfs @the-disaster-in-waiting (some of ur tags didn’t work im sorry :( )