#to be fair he's the kind of guy that would forget to tell you he got mugged at work bc that question wasn't specifically asked

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 5

Hey guys!! Things are finally starting to move in this story, I'm not sure how much longer we have, but I just started Eddie's training, so whooo!!

In this we have Eddie being dumb, fixing it, and then apologizing properly! He can be taught!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Robin smacked the back of Steve’s head as she walked past. “No staring. It’s creepy!”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. He had been caught staring so many times today that, yeah, it was starting to be a little creepy now. But in all fairness, Eddie was staring right back. A thought that sent Steve spiraling. But like in a ‘oh shit, that’s hot!’ way.

Which he really, really needed to tamp down on, because yes, the guy was eighteen, but like barely.

“You should just go talk to him,” Robin encouraged gently. Because for all her teasing, she knew how important it was for Steve to talk to him about his swimming.

Steve nodded. He had time until his next class. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He walked up to Eddie and flashed him his patented Harrington smile.

“Hey, you’re Eddie, right?” he said warmly. “Robin tells me you like to swim on Saturdays, yeah?”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Um, hi. Yup! That’s me. My mom used to call me her little fish.”

Steve grinned. He liked that. He wished his mom had taken that kind of interest in his swimming. “I saw you swimming when I was helping Joyce set up for the party last weekend and you were really good! Did you compete in high school?”

“Nah,” Eddie said with a shrug. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t get someone to take me that early in the morning so I stopped. Competed in middle school, though. I was decent enough, I guess.”

Steve was shocked. To have to stop just when you hit your stride must have been quite the blow.

“That fucking sucks, man,” Steve said with a grimace. He scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “You ever think about competing on the national level? Because I really think you could.”

Eddie rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Yeah, right. I couldn’t afford the coach let alone all the traveling I’d have to do to make it to meets. I’m going to have to pass on that one.”

“There’s actually a program here for people who can’t afford it,” Steve hedged. “Robin used it when we both first started out.” He was fighting back the urge to start biting his nails.

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and Steve gulped. “Is that so?” He nodded. “Well ain’t that nice. Still not interested.”

Steve wished the floor would swallow him or that pool would suddenly flood or that he’d get a brain aneurysm and die, right there on the spot. He pursed his lips together and nodded with his whole upper body. He turned on his heel and walked away.

When he was about to the other side of the pool, Eddie called out, “Who would even want to coach me?”

Steve turned around with a grin. “I would.” Then he spun on his toes and walked out of the pool area to the cool fresh air of the hallway.

~

Once Steve was out of the pool area and into the hall, he had a full on panic attack. He sank to the floor and held his head in his hands. Why the fuck did he offer to coach Eddie? He didn’t know Eddie, he was afraid of deep water, and he hadn’t even talked to Joyce yet.

It was a real mess now, but the words just forced themselves from him and now he wants to gobble them back up. Well maybe they’ll just avoid each other from now on. They had done a pretty good job up to this point, they could just continue as normal and forget all about how Steve made a fool of his himself.

Then slowly he began to come out of his panic attack to the sounds of soft words and the gentle rubbing of his wrists with their thumbs. His breathing evened, his heart rate dropped, and his eyes fluttered open.

The eyes looking back at him were warm chocolate brown and deeply concerned. The angel in front of him said something but Steve couldn’t hear. Then all at once all the sounds came rushing back into the hall. And suddenly there were more people in the hall with him than he thought. In addition to Eddie who was the one holding his hands, Robin and Joyce were there too.

“I think he’s coming around,” Joyce said gently as Steve’s eyes focused on her. “Hey, there, Steve. Are you okay now?”

Steve gulped, nodding. He was feeling better. In fact he didn’t have a pounding headache like he usually had after an episode. “My head doesn’t hurt.” He looked over at Robin in confusion. “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“Uh...” Eddie said hesitantly. “I might have something to do with that. I used some calming techniques my friend’s dad showed me.”

Steve turned to him, mouth open in awe. “Oh. Thank you.” He didn’t know what to do with that because technically it was his conversation with Eddie which caused the panic attack in the first place. But maybe that’s why Eddie helped, because he knew he’d caused it. That was a nice thought, Steve supposed.

Eddie smiled and stood back up. “I have to get back to work. You take care of yourself, okay Stevie?”

Steve nodded and Eddie slapped his hands on his knees, standing up. He muttered goodbye to the two women and then wandered off.

As Robin helped him to his feet, she said dryly, “I take it the conversation didn’t go well.”

He barked out a laugh causing Joyce to look back and forth between them in confusion. So Steve put her out of her misery. “I was telling him that he was good enough of a swimmer to compete, but I think he thought I was mocking him or something, because he kinda blew me off.”

He rubbed his temples for a moment before adding. “I even offered to coach him.”

Joyce blinked at him for a moment. “You offered what now?”

When he looked up both Robin and Joyce were looking at him with large, wide eyes and slack jaws. “Yeah, that’s kinda what started the panic attack if I’m honest. I know I am like the worst person for the job with all my...” he waved his hand helplessly. Then he snapped his fingers. “Issues. Anyway. It was nice of him to help me out after all that.”

“Dingus...” Robin said with a heavy sigh. “What were you going to do if he accepted?”

Steve grimaced and ducked his head. “Have you help me?” He looked up at her through his eyelashes and batted them, pouting.

Robin pushed his shoulder. “Disgusting!” Then she gave him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “Of course I’d help you.”

“I think it would be perfect,” Joyce blurted out. They both turned and looked at her. “This place could use the publicity if I’m honest. There are other pools in Indy that have been bringing in the bigger names. So if Eddie accepts and starts training under five time gold medal champion Steve Harrington...”

“Then this place could start bringing in the big names again,” Robin said. “Not to say that Steve isn’t a big name of his own,” she added when Steve’s face twisted into something like offense.

Steve shook his head. “Which isn’t going to happen because he said no.”

Joyce and Robin sighed. There was that. But they knew they shouldn’t go trying to pressure Eddie into it. Plus, despite how good he was there was no telling he’d be on par or better than his younger peers.

Steve and Robin left Joyce standing there, pondering her dilemma.

~

Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. He was grateful that the technique worked, but he was pretty sure that he had caused the attack in the first place. Which was... not good. He could have handled the offer to have him trained to compete a little better. Steve was paying him a compliment and he threw it back in his face as charity. He didn’t need charity not from no one.

There was no two ways about it. He was going to have to apologize. Which was never his strong suit. But he’d do it. He just wasn’t going to take Steve up on his offer. He would see about staying on here as paid help because then he could still have access to his beloved pool.

It took him a couple of days but finally their schedules matched up and Eddie was on his break and Steve had time between classes again.

“Um, hey,” he said timidly, sauntering up to Steve. “I just wanted to apologize for being a bitch on Monday. I was rude and that wasn’t fair.”

A slow smile spread out over Steve’s face. “Thanks. I did just spring it on you without an preamble, so...”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, there was that. But it still was mean and I should have been nicer.”

“Well, you made up for it by helping me with the panic attack afterwards,” Steve said. “I’d say that makes us even.”

“A panic attack I’m pretty sure I caused.”

Steve winced, confirming the worst of Eddie’s suspicion on that one. Steve rubbed his chin thoughtful. “I’ll tell you what, if you teach Robin and Joyce that technique you used to pull me out of my panic attack, then we’ll be even.”

Eddie smiled that sweet closed mouth smile that melted Steve’s insides when he saw it. “Sure thing I can do that. On Saturday before the crew swim. I’ll teach them both.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed. That was going to be so useful, having multiple people know how to get him out of an attack would make it easier for him to go out in public. Something that was very limited after the incident in Beijing.

“That’ll be great, thanks.”

“You should come too,” Eddie suggested. “I know you don’t like being in the pool, but you could come hang out and have a little fun for a change.”

Steve gasped dramatically. “What do you mean? Isn’t teaching beginning classes meant to be fun?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. It took him two seconds long than it should have to realize that Steve was joking him. He pushed Steve’s shoulder playfully.

“At least with us,” he teased, “we won’t try and drown you, deliberately or otherwise.”

Steve tilted his head to side and looked at him in confusion. Where the urge to bite those cheeks came from, Eddie will deny knowing until his last breath. “I saw that snotty teenaged little shit try to pull you into the pool. That’s fucked up at hell.”

Steve’s smile was blinding. “Fair enough. I like getting to sleep in on Saturdays, but we’ll see.”

Eddie grinned back. “I never used to get up this early for school. But ya know, keeping out of jail is pretty inspiring.”

“I could see that, yeah,” Steve agreed. “It was the one downside being on the swim team in high school.”

“You went to a regular high school?” Eddie asked tilting his head. “I would have thought after getting fifth in your first Olympics you would have gone to a special school for kids that are huge in sports or whatever?”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “Do they have schools like that?”

“They do for like actors and shit,” Eddie said with a shrug. “So I assumed they would have something similar for the jocks.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, no. That would have been preferable.” He shook his head. “But no, it’s much more cut throat that than that. Pretty much, schools try and poach students from other schools to make the best sports teams.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?”

“Yep!” Steve said beaming at him. He looked up at the clock on the wall. “Look, my next class is about to start. So I really should get going. Especially with Joyce’s son in the class, I don’t want to be late.”

“Why is he starting so late?” Eddie asked. “I would have thought with Joyce being in charge of the rec center and his older brother literally being a trainer too, he would have been in the tots class.”

Steve nodded. “She didn’t get the manager position until five years ago and Will was afraid of the water by then. So they just waited until he was ready.”

“So he’s ready now?” Eddie asked curiously.

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed. “All his friends are going to be in the class with him, so he ready to hop in the pool with them.”

Eddie smiled. “That’s cute.”

That surprised a huff of laughter out him. “Sure is. But don’t tell him that. He’s at the age where cute is akin to baby and well...”

“He’s too old for that?” Eddie finished.

“Yeah.”

“I feel that,” Eddie agreed. “Have fun in your class, and remember you can always make it look like an accident.”

Steve laughed out right at that and waved goodbye. Eddie watched him go feeling better about the whole panic attack thing. Now all he had to do was make sure it never happened again. Or at least not by his own big fucking mouth.

~

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[shakeupthevampires]

finding out that my dad went to the 2005 warped tour texas dates has me lowkey fked up, like wdym he saw shit like this up close bc apparently he was barricade?!

and it's only come up today!! i only found out bc he asked if i had any upcoming concerts, just-

how have we never talked about this ?!

i didn't even know he listened to mychem until last week !

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

Forgetting an anniversary

A/N: This is my first time doing anything like this, so if anybody wants to see more, feel free to ask! The Hazbin brain rot is real—

Warnings‼️: Established relationship, character x reader, fluff, but also some angst?, swearing, gender neutral!reader, mentions of alcohol.

Not really proofread

I didn’t mean to write that much for Alastor but here we are—

Lucifer:

To be fair this guy is the literal KING of hell, (the devil from, THE BIBLE) so to say he’s a busy man is an understatement.

This dude is also MAD depressed making him constantly disassociate, so he’s prone for losing track of what day it is.

You kind of figure he’s forgotten the day is coming up when he’s not hyperfixated on it.

For birthdays, planned dates, special occasions, this man usually goes ALL out.

He tries to keep what he has planned secret, but he’s usually bouncing off the walls the days before, and ends up letting his plans slip.

So when he’s not talking your ear off the day before your anniversary, you suspect the date might’ve slipped his mind.

When the day of your anniversary comes along and you’re not woken up with kisses and cuddles, possibly breakfast in bed, you KNOW your partner has forgotten.

However, you don’t tell him or remind him of the date. Since your partner had a busy day ahead, you didn’t want to force him to focus on you when there much more important things to be settled.

You kind of wallow in your own self pity, while you wait for Lucifer to return to the castle.

Lucifer had plenty of things scheduled for the day, but he can’t shake the feeling that he IS forgetting something.

(And he is)

He checks his schedule, triple checks he didn’t miss any meetings, makes sure he has his lucky duck in his suit pocket.

All seems well. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he’s forgetting something.

It’s not until he gets home later in the evening and SEES you, that he remembers the date.

This man is ON HIS KNEES, profusely apologizing to you. The king of hell is practically begging for your forgiveness.

“Why didn’t you tell me?? You’re more important than some stupid meetings! I’m so sorry, I won’t let this happen again.”

Despite if you say it’s alright, he calls off anything he has scheduled for the next week. Treating you to the prettiest and fanciest places every inch of the pride ring has to offer.

This man usually goes all out for your guys’ dates and such, but this is extravagant. He’s treating you like the royalty you are to hopefully become. (If he ever gets the gall to ask you-)

Vox:

Similar to Lucifer, but even worse in the sense of his schedule is ALWAYS booked. It’s not easy being the face of all tech in the Pride Ring.

This man gets ZERO days off, working 8-12 hour days depending on what’s going on.

He’s got meetings, interviews, paperwork, you name it. This man might as well be the living embodiment of stress.

The thing he usually looks forward to is going home to you. Finally being able to relax and rant about his day.

(Finally able to stop his fake ass smile that’s usually imprinted on his face)

So when he gets home to find you already in bed, fast asleep when you usually would stay up and wait for him, he’s a little peeved.

He tries to be understanding, not really knowing what you might’ve done in the day. Perhaps it could’ve exhausted you. Or maybe you were feeling under the weather.

He then almost throws a full blown hissy fit when he sees blanket and pillow on the couch

A silent demand from you that he is to sleep there for the night.

His screen glitches in silent rage, as he grumbles to himself about how childish you were being for no apparent reason.

The two of you had obviously gotten into fights/arguments, mostly about his work schedule.

But it was rare that those arguments wouldn’t end in the two of you talking it out and ending the night in a cuddle session to make it up to each other.

(Vox refuses to really apologize for his work, his pride won’t let him apologize for something he doesn’t think he did wrong.)

Vox kind of accepts your demand, not wanting to piss you off more. You could talk about it with him tomorrow.

Vox wakes up early the day after your anniversary, going to work as usual. Velvette is getting him in ready in a new suit she designed. While she’s getting him ready she asks;

“So how was your night? Did you have anything planned?”

“Uhh.. what? Planned for what?”

“Wasn’t yesterday your anniversary?”

“….Fuuu-huh-huuuck”

He ditches his morning broadcast, instead heading towards his monitor room. When he sees you’re awake, and on your phone, he makes his face appear on the small screen.

Which scares the shit out of you— he usually gave some sort of warning when he was going to just appear on your device.

By the look on his face, you can tell he now knows the reason you made him sleep on the couch. You give him a look in return, waiting for his excuse.

And just by the look on your face, he can tell you’re not willing to hear any bullshit he has to spit about his work being a priority.

His screen glitches in a slight panic, as he’s sort of loss for words at first. He could tell you were angry, and he knew only he was responsible for causing that.

To your surprise, he actually apologizes, saying how there was no excuse for his absence and your guys’ special day.

He reassures you it won’t happen again, telling you how he still loves you. He has you pick any place of your choice for the two of you to go to dinner tonight.

(He hacks into the system to be put on the reservation list)

Anything to somewhat make it up to one of the only souls that truly understands him in this miserable afterlife.

Alastor:

He’s not as busy of a man as Vox or Lucifer, but he’s not very big on celebrations like birthdays or anniversaries.

You’re his and he is yours, you both don’t need to prove that to anyone.

But…..it would feel nice to at least acknowledge the stepping stones in your guys’ relationship.

Alastor doesn’t really understand the hints you drop when mentioning your guys’ anniversary.

He definitely knows the date is coming, but once the day arrives, he treats it like it’s just any other day.

He notices your mood is less cheery than any normal day, but doesn’t connect the dots that it’s because of HIS behavior.

(What could he have POSSIBLY done wrong??)

He instead tries to cheer you up by poking fun at you the entire day. Calling you little names like “grouch, stick in the mud, drag”.

Insisting that you wipe that frown off your face and replace it with a similar smile to his own permanent one.

He unknowingly rocks the boat with his behavior, only making your mood turn more sour.

Before he can even continue his banter for the last half of the day, you’re ignoring him. Not giving any excuse to him either, you’re just walking away from him.

He makes fun of your bitter mood? You didn’t hear it.

He asks you a question? Your conversation with Charlie is more important.

He tries to hold your hand or embrace you? You suddenly have something totally necessary to get done on the opposite side of the hotel.

You are determined to push all of his buttons just as he had unknowingly done to you.

And this absolutely gets under his skin.

Alastor is one for control, he needs to know everything, he needs to be in charge of situations. Why you were being so stubborn, this man is CLUELESS. And that irritates him to no end.

Tensions are high in the hotel, with a very grumpy radio demon and his other half who refuses to sooth his anger.

Night falls on Hell painfully slow, as you just want this whole day to disappear and never return. You sit at the bar, swirling around the liquid in your glass.

Husk knew better than to pry at you and your annoyance towards your significant other. He instead kept your glass filled, and offered you a soft smile.

You’re slightly buzzed when your source of annoyance sits in the bar stool right next to you. You feel Alastor’s gaze on you, but you keep your eyes on your drink.

You feel static prick at your skin, making the hair on your arms rise from the chill. You hear the crackle of a very peeved radio demon sitting beside you.

Who did you think you were?? Ignoring someone like him! You were his lover and you were treating him like he meant nothing to you.

(At least that’s what it felt like)

The overlord beside you finally snaps, his voice toned heavily with radio static, his eyes darkening with dial pupils.

“What is with this behavior, 𝙈̳̎𝙮̳̎ 𝙙̳̎𝙚̳̎𝙖̳̎𝙧̳̎? What could possibly be your excuse for such immature actions towards me?”

Maybe it’s because you’re slightly buzzed from one too many drinks, maybe your emotions had been building up way too quickly from your irritation, maybe you felt guilty for treating your S/O like spoiled leftovers all day.

But as you look towards Alastor, observing his anger, your eyes suddenly well up with big crocodile tears, threatening to spill if you even dare to blink.

Alastor notices your expression soften and watches some unwanted tears slip down your face. There’s literally a record scratch as he just watches you desperately try and hide your face from him.

His eyes soften back to their normal red hue and he feels his harsh smile crack at the edges.

(If he could frown, he absolutely would seeing as you were so hurt by his actions.)

He’s quick to comfort you, pulling you in and whispering comforting words. Shooting a glare at Husk to leave the two of you alone and to not speak a word of this to anybody.

The two of you talk out your feelings about the day. You admit how you felt a bit abandoned by his lack of acknowledgement for the date.

He promises to you that for your next anniversary, because he knows you will always be his, he will make sure to make you feel as special as you truly are to him.

[lovebugism]

hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]

summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3

When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old. 

The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme. 

Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.

You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.

“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”

“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”

He most definitely hadn’t.

“What the hell— I brought booze!”

“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question. 

Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.

“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.

You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”

Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.

Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.

The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.

“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”

You swat his chest with a less than kind hand. 

“Ow!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”

“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.

You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.

“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.

The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”

“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”

“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.

“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.

“Oh… Okay…”

“What’s yours?”

You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”

“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.

“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.

Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.

You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.

“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.

“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”

“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”

“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.

The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.

The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.

“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time. 

You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”

A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”

His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Right,” you nod.

Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.

“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”

“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.

Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls. 

Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s. 

“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”

“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.

You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.

“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.

You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”

The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.

“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”

“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”

Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”

Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”

You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”

“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”

“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”

He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment. 

“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.

“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”

“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”

Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”

The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”

“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.” 

Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”

“Yeah…” you echo.

“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you. 

He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.

You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile. 

“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”

The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”

He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind. 

Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”

if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

[taeyongdoyoung]

enjoy the silence

summary: your usually quiet self becomes unusually loud around your boyfriend so you want him to make you shut up 👀 pairing: chan x reader genre: smut with hints of angst warnings: silence kink, insecurities, swearing, healthy communication 🥰 belt, fingering, eating out, overstimulation, piv sex, safeword used, pre-discussed scenario, dirty talk, pet names, kissing, overthinking, they're just idiots in love, your honour 😔 word count: 1.5k

You are generally perceived as the "quiet one" among your friends. Always the listener, never the talker. Honestly, you are more than okay with it. Most of the time, you can't think of a funny or interesting thing to say so you keep to yourself. And you genuinely enjoy hearing about your loved ones' days, even if you are not the best at responding with something witty. Some of them say one of the things that they like about you is that you don't give unnecessary advice but offer your support which is more than enough in certain situations.

All of that changes when you meet Chan. He makes you feel so comfortable that you open up without realizing. Sometimes you would babble for hours and he would let you. In most contexts, you would overthink your answer and end up not saying anything. But when you are with him, you don't have to think. You just freely say whatever is on your mind and are met with acceptance. It is like he unlocked a new part of you that you didn't even know existed.

One evening, you are out having dinner with Chan, and you are excitedly telling him about what you did today, what you ate, where you went, what outfit you wore and all the silly details you normally keep inside. He smiles at you adoringly, adding "Really?" and "That sounds nice" every now and then.

You are genuinely having a lovely time when you overhear a remark coming from the table nearby.

"Ugh, does that woman ever shut up? That poor guy..."

"I know, right? Must be so annoying..."

You immediately stop talking and gulp nervously. They must be talking about you. Were you really that loud?

"Let's go home," you say in a quiet voice.

Chan doesn't question it, he just gets the bill and you two make your way out of the restaurant. He drives you home in complete silence and when you are inside the apartment, he finally breaks the quiet spell.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? You didn't even finish your meal..."

"N-nothing, I'm f-fine," you try to lie but your voice breaks.

"Tell me, please," Chan urges you to trust him with your concerns.

"Channie, do I talk too much?" you ask.

"Oh, so you heard those assholes, as well..."

"So...do I?"

"I seriously love hearing you talk, okay? I've seen how quiet you get around your friends and I am glad you feel safe enough to share all these stuff with me. And to be fair, it's kind of a relief, after a long day of me doing a lot of talking, I get to listen to you. These people at the restaurant were just jealous that no one wants to hear their nasty voices."

That makes you laugh and you bury your head in his chest, enveloping him in a hug.

"Don't you ever get tired? Don't you wish to shut me up?" you want to know.

"Where is this coming from? Forget about these fuckers..."

"Not in general. Don't you want to make me stop talking in bed?" you suggest boldly.

"Oh. It hasn't crossed my mind. Is that something you'd like to explore?"

"As long as it's with you, yes."

"With nobody else?" Chan runs a finger across your cheek.

"Nope, never," you admit.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about that."

Chan looks really tired from work and you probably shouldn't push his buttons right now of all times. But you really want to see him snap. Empowered by your previous discussions of this particular scenario, you decide to give it a shot. If he's not in the mood, you'll just drop it and let him rest. But if he's in...may the universe have mercy on you.

"So I told her, no, I don't want to get drinks for everyone, Susan, 'cause you never pay me back and you always treat me like a minion and then she said-"

Chan sighs deeply because you've told this story like three times already but doesn't interrupt you. Okay, he really appears exhausted, maybe this was a terrible idea.

"Tell me to shut up," you beg him at this point.

"Huh?" he blinks somewhat confused.

"I'm obviously being super loud and you're tired. So, make me shut up and take it out on me. Please?"

Realizing where you're going with this, Chan nods and the exhaustion suddenly disappears from his eyes. His gaze is now on fire as he squishes your cheeks with one hand and pushes you against the wall.

"As long you're begging," he smirks cruelly and kisses you.

Oh dear. He's never kissed you like this, so roughly and fervently, teeth clashing against yours, biting your lips until it hurts. You cannot speak even if you wanted to, which you don't. Completely losing yourself to the feeling, you let him do as he pleases.

Chan grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the bedroom. He pins you under him on the bed and starts talking.

"Always so fuckin' loud, huh?"

You shake your head in disagreement. You can be quiet if he wants you to. You'd do anything if it makes him happy.

"Got nothing to say all of a sudden?" Chan teases you and starts taking off your clothes.

You lick your own lips hesitantly but don't dare say a word. Seeing him like this is so unexpected but you can't get enough of it.

"What got you so shy, hm? I thought you loved yapping to me. All. Day. Long."

The way he enunciates each word would make anyone else think he was genuinely annoyed by it. But you know your Channie. You know that he wouldn't hurt you. Not unless you asked him to.

"Talk to me, baby, yeah? Why aren't you saying anything?" he asks while he's unbuckling his belt.

You refuse to speak and he takes it as a sign to continue. He smacks the bed with his belt and the action is so startling you unvoluntarily flinch as if you were the one hit.

"Are you going to speak or do you want me to force the words out of you?"

Oh, so he's going to use your own weapon against you? Very well, then. Two can play at that game. Let's see who folds first.

Chan takes the task very seriously and does everything he can think of to make you talk again.

"Come on, sweetheart, doesn't this feel good?" he keeps asking as his big fingers stretch you out deliciously. Yes, it feels amazing, but you are so stubborn you say nothing.

"Not even a moan? You're crazy," he laughs but doesn't give up.

He eats you out longer than you've ever thought humanly possible, making you cum over and over again. But you still hold on, fingers gripping the sheets and teeth biting the inside of your cheek.

"Was this okay?" Chan needs to know and you swear you see his eyes watering with emotion, begging to be praised for his otherworldly skills, but not even that can make you speak.

You give him a noncomittal nod, which obviously makes him even more competitive.

Finally, he thrusts into you so deeply, so overwhelmingly that it takes every ounce of willpower for you to not break. His hard cock inside you, his strong arms wrapped around you, his smooth voice talking to you, his beautiful eyes gazing at yours. It's too much, yet never enough. You want to tell him so many things. How much he means to you, how grateful you are for him, how happy he makes you, how-

"Be honest, do you hate me?" Chan interrupts your affectionate thoughts out of nowhere.

Huh? Where the fuck is this coming from?

"P-pineapple," you break your silence by saying the pre-established safeword because there is no way you could continue enjoying yourself and each other without unpacking this.

Oh, no. Chan just wanted to hear you speak again, but not like this.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he immediately asks in concern and stops his movements.

"Did you hurt me?" you answer sarcastically. "Did I hurt you? Why would you ask me if I hate you while literally inside of me, are you serious right now?"

"I was just wondering," he pouts adorably, "you weren't talking to me for so long, I thought you were mad at me or something."

"I wasn't speaking because that was part of the scenario we talked about! Of course, I love you, you big idiot! How could you possibly ask that?"

Chan smiles fondly and gives you a soft kiss.

"I love you, too," he giggles. "So, you're not hurt? We can keep going?"

"No, I'm fine. Yes, we can, I just said the safeword because I can't have you thinking I hate you under no circumstances. You're everything to me, okay?"

"Okay," Chan agrees easily. "But can I ask for something?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Please never shut up for real, baby. No matter how tired I may look, I love hearing about your day."

"I know. The same goes for you, yeah? You don't have to keep everything in, alright? I'll always listen to you. Whenever and whatever you want to say, I'm here for you."

"Oh, really? You'll be my good girl and listen? You'd do what I like?" Chan raises an eyebrow and you long to see what kind of demon you've unleashed.

"For you? I'd do anything," you promise.

"Then no more silence. I wanna hear you scream for me."

The End

[harmonictechnicality]

It’s the way Steve places a pin in that damn map of Hawkins. Two fingers, muddy knuckles. Fuck if Eddie knows the actual destination because all he can navigate is the curve of Steve’s index finger as he smooths out the edges of the map.

And it’s stupid, right? Because the world is folding in on itself and he’s looking at a guy in the kind of way Victorian novelists would only describe as ‘longingly.’ It’s objectively stupid. Probably some adrenaline bullshit that a doctor could explain with a brain scan.

The rest of the group has scattered, plotting amongst themselves. Pulling plans out of their asses. Finding layers of courage behind clues and cassette tapes.

Eddie should do that too. Plan. Make decisions. Do anything other than stare at the dirt underneath Steve’s goddamn fingernails.

“Please blink, Munson.” Steve says while clearing his throat. He’s been doing that a lot. Which is, like, understandable after coughing up lake water all night long.

He clears his throat again. “Show sign of life before I ransack the supply bag for that shit you call music.”

“That… shit?” Eddie spits out the words. Briefly forgets his swirly Steve feelings because of the fucking audacity on this guy. “Rightrightright, because Bob Seger is so fucking dignified, huh?”

“Uh-oh.” Dustin murmurs behind him.

“Because Old Time Rock and Roll is the highest ranking of ear candy?” Eddie searches through their duffel bag until he finds Steve’s Vecna Saftey Tape. Waves it around wildly as he speaks. “Forgive me. I didn’t know entry-level chord progressions were considered Carnegie Hall worthy these days. But by all means, call my music shit.”

He throws the tape at Steve’s lap before dropping back down to his seat on the couch.

“Well,” Steve smirks. “At least we know if the music won’t wake you up, mocking it sure as hell will.”

“Guys. Focus.” Nancy steps into the center of the room. Everyone nods, even Eddie. They listen intently to her directions. Henderson doesn’t interrupt her, not even once.

Nancy’s entire demeanor is charged with currents of determination. It’s honestly impressive. Truly. She could convince congress to change the fucking constitution if she wanted. Have the supreme court eating out of her palm with how persuasive she can be.

And the only thing that distracts her, is the same thing distracting Eddie.

Two fingers. Muddy knuckles.

Eddie follows her gaze back over to Steve. Her expression softening when she sees him.

It’s cruel and expected. Cruel that Eddie has to witness such softness, knowing exactly how it feels. Expected because wedding bells can practically be heard every time those two interact with each other. No one can deny that.

But knowing all this doesn’t stop the cruelty from squeezing Eddie’s stomach till his insides feel raw.

He swallows down his flimsy fantasies. Keeps repeating those words from back in the woods:

It’s jealousy, it’s jealousy, it’s jealousy, it’s-

“Hey, man.” Steve says.

Man? Not ‘Nancy, my betrothed?’ Not “Nancy, my muse?”

… Man?

Eddie blinks. Glances up to see Steve looking at him. “Your taste in music isn’t complete shit.”

Which isn’t exactly an apology. But the teasing scratches an itch in Eddie’s brain that he hasn’t be able to reach for a very long time.

“Yeah.” Eddie says. “I guess Bob Seger’s stuff is… intermediate. Assistant managerial-level chord progressions.”

He pauses. Then leans in and adds a quick, “At best.”

They both laugh a little. It’s cut short by Steve clearing his throat again. One of the many reminders that they’re not well.

That nothing they’re going through is fair. Not even in the same universe as Fair. Eddie’s eyes fall to the red markings around Steve’s neck. Wonders if that makes his cough hurt worse.

“Look.” Steve nudges Eddie’s arm. Pulls his attention back into this moment. “We’ve got this, okay?”

Eddie can’t exactly tell if there’s softness in Steve’s eyes - the same kind Nancy gives to him so freely. Or if it’s just regularly scheduled Concern. But it doesn’t even matter because Steve said that.

We.

‘We’ve got this.’

Him and Steve.

And, okay, was Steve referring to a collective ‘we?’ Sure, yeah. Obviously. But Eddie is allowing himself to wallow in delusion while the world’s expiration date remains questionable.

So he aims a lovesick smile at Steve and sighs. “Whatever you say, Harrington.”

[disneyprincemuke]

in the name of friendly racing * fem!driver

a simple race on their scooters flips the entire paddocks upside down

pairings: liam lawson x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hello everyone i know i haven't posted a vr piece and it's all because i couldn't fully grasp the fact that femdriver and logan are not together in this universe but i took a break from them and yes i'm coping well, but no i will not stop tearing up about their love story k? anyway, i think this is MID compared to other crack fics i've written but i'm trying i promise

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

she holds up the scooter in one hand, the other on her hip as she leans into the tablet in liam's hands. "what's the route again?"

"are you stupid?" logan asks.

"no, do you want to not join us?" she asks quickly, lifting her head to glare at the american across her. she darts her arm out and shoves logan back. "i'll disqualify you right here, right now. you wanna spend your afternoon in your driver's room like a loser like the rest of them?"

"he sent it to the group chat, how can you still not know the route?" logan scoffs, narrowing his eyes down into a glare.

"i'm just making sure!"

"relax," liam mutters, holding a hand up in an attempt to break up the fight that he's sure would happen if he doesn't interfere. "i'll disqualify you both."

"just tell me the route," mick sighs, shaking his head. he steps forward and tilts his head to try and get a look at the screen under the scorching sun above them. "no cheating, okay?"

logan huffs. "tell that to her."

she throws her head back and rolls her eyes. "god, logan!" she winds her arm back and darts an arm out to grab logan's sweatshirt. she bundles it up into her hands and tries to yank logan towards her.

"okay!" mick cries out, grabbing her wrist and pulling her away from logan. he carefully, finger by finger, removes her hand from grasping his sweatshirt and pushes her back. he then guides logan two steps away. "the race hasn't even started yet!"

oscar pops his head between the girl and liam. "are you sure you should be doing this?"

"of course," liam mutters, glancing at oscar. "why are you here? i thought you didn't want anything to do with us if we went through with this?"

"yeah, but i'm curious. so i know which places to avoid - i wouldn't want to get run over by road rager over here," he gestures to her and then at logan, "and mr. beating-(y/n)-is-my-life's-mission over there."

"she can't possibly be beating me at every single thing!" logan cries, throwing his arms in the air, and pointing over at her.

"sore loser!"

"okay, so we're starting here," liam points at where they're standing. "we start at williams."

"are you guys going to the pitlane?" oscar questions.

"no, are you crazy? do you want somebody to kill us?" mick scoffs. "i'd get my scooter rights taken away from me!"

"yeah," liam agrees with a nod. he throws oscar a judgemental stare, absolutely bewildered at the thought that they would be racing at the area where literal cars could be driving out. he looks back down at the ipad. "anyway."

"we zip between the racing homes," logan mutters, tracing the map of the paddocks that they'd pulled up from the internet. "and then we make a round around the interview table and the finish line is back here. don't forget to zip through the racing homes again."

"exactly," liam nods. "everyone aware of the rules?"

"you guys had the time to come up with rules?" oscar laughs. "seriously?"

"no shortcuts," mick says, turning his head to look at the younger girl. he grabs her wrist. "have you got your watch on so we can track the route everyone takes for the race?"

"yes. i'm a fair racer, above all," she scowls, retracting her arm from mick. "and we stop for everyone who calls us, yes? especially the fans."

"easy," logan nods, a smirk stretching his lips. "suddenly i'm kind of thankful nobody really likes me."

"what? don't say that," she grunts. "i like you. we like you."

"break it up, lovebirds. we are not friends, we're competitors," liam mutters. "you guys got the glasses (y/n) stole from seb's office?"

"i didn't steal them. we're borrowing them!" she rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. "don't break them - seb doesn't know i took them from his office."

"oh, i'm pretty sure charles would have let you borrow his if you asked," oscar whispers. when she turns her head to glare at him, oscar lifts his arms up to surrender. "but, you know. what do i know?"

"well i'm not sponsored by rayban - my glasses aren't here yet. i get when everybody else gets them," she frowns. "and, i don't wanna bother charles. it's okay."

"so you snuck into seb's office instead."

"it's not sneaking in if the door was wide open," she laughs, rolling her eyes. "duh?"

"ah, is that why you needed me to keep a lookout in the hallway?" logan says.

"shut up. i'm going to beat you," she mutters, pointing at logan with a threatening finger.

"okay, so are we clear about the rules?" liam puts the ipad down and looks around. "we've literally tried to make it as foolproof as possible. there's no way you guys can find ways to cheat, right?" he turns to her. "right?"

"i don't know why you keep looking at me - i'm a fair racer! you should be asking mick if he's going to be honest about this one!"

"why me? isn't logan desperate to keep the paper mache cup that we made three nights ago?"

"in my defence, i still believe i should keep it even if i lose because i worked on it the entire night. all you fuckers did was play overcooked and scream at each other in mick's hotel room."

"okay, shut up and race," oscar mutters, flailing his arms in the air to dismiss their huddle. "are you guys ready? can i start the race for you?"

"for someone who doesn't want to be a part of this, you sure are pushy," she mutters, turning on her heel to hop onto her scooter. "are we ready? apple watches and rayban glasses on?"

she takes the sunglasses that have been resting on the collar of her blouse and puts it on. she turns to her left and points at logan. "i'm gonna crush you."

logan pushes the sunglasses up his nose, looking ahead and doesn't spare her another glance. "sure."

"okay, okay," oscar cheers, clapping his hands. he reaches into his back pocket and reveals a red handkerchief. "turned your scooters on? everybody got their smart watches and smart glasses on?"

"start the race, cunt!"

oscar's lip twitches. "anyway. be safe, you guys. we have a race this weekend."

"i don't," mick smiles. "stay safe, though."

"start the race before i do it myself, bitch!"

"liam, shut the fuck up!" she shrieks, stepping off her scooter momentarily to whack him on the arm.

"god!" liam screams, his arm darting out to whack her as a response. "the race is going to start and you're not going to-"

"go!" oscar shouts, waving the handkerchief into the air. he darts to the side to get out of their way with a giggle.

almost immediately, logan and mick have already pulled back their handles, darting away from the williams racing home. she shrieks and shoves liam, causing him to lose his balance slightly, hops onto her scooter and drives away.

"oh, liam!" a deep voice calls. "i've been looking for you everywhere!"

"fuck's sake," liam sighs, shaking his head as he turns to see christian walking up to him. but he smiles as he is approached by the team principal. "yeah, christian?"

up ahead, she frowns to herself as she watches mick and logan racing head to head. there's no way to catch up to them on these scooters - it's simply not like an f1 car. she can only bank on the fact that someone, somehow, will stop them to give her some sort of window to pass them.

with the little number of people in the paddocks on a wednesday for the weekend proves that they should have done this early in the afternoon on friday. there could have been more obstacles and distractions for them.

if only the boys had listened to her.

she shrieks when she sees george flagging mick down ahead of the alpine racing home, forcing mick to come to slow stop. she screeches loudly when she passes mick, her hair being blown back by the wind and speed she's going at.

"thanks, george!" she screams, momentarily waving at the brit as she passes the mercedes pair. she can see logan ahead of her, speeding and manoeuvring around the crowd flawlessly by the ferrari home.

surely, somebody will recognise him and pull him to a stop, right? if nobody does, she can only hope that alex is somewhere in the paddocks wondering where his rookie has gone.

the race, objectively, is going fine for her. logan was momentarily stopped by a williams engineer. she passes them screeching, also thanking the nameless woman and waving at logan smugly as she accelerates her scooter.

when she does that, her eyes widen when she sees mick also passing logan. she has no idea where liam has gone, or if christian has even let him go from their conversation at the back of the paddocks.

she does get stopped, once, by susie who stops her to ask her a question. it was a simple question that she easily had the answer to and susie let her off in seconds. she excitedly presses a kiss on the older woman's cheek and quickly accelerates away, shocked that mick is suddenly riding next to her.

behind them is logan trailing shortly, and liam's conversation with christian is actually short. so behind logan is liam, held back by a couple of seconds only.

it's just that christian had overheard them whispering earlier that day about their race and he had lurked by the williams racing home to mess with his driver.

she, unfortunately, does get stopped another time, by a fan that was being brought around for a tour of the paddocks ahead of the race weekend. she grumbled under her breath when the three boys passed her: mick mimicking her shrill screech, logan passing her with his fingers in an 'L' shape, then liam simply ignoring her.

the race is short. suddenly they're all at the final stretch, now circled back at the ferrari racing home as they aim to make it to the finish line where oscar sits in a plastic chair, hunched over as he texts his girlfriend.

she screeches when she sees mick come to a stop right by the aston martin home. it's then questionable when she sees logan stop, and then liam. and suddenly she's getting flagged down by liam.

she rolls her eyes and ignores them, clearly being sore losers that she is now destined to win their little race. she goes right past them, slowing down slightly since it seems that she is the only competitor left in the race.

"(y/n)!" she hears a familiar accent. her eyes widen as she looks back, seeing sebastian with his hands on his hips, surrounded by her friends with the guiltiest expressions on their faces.

it all happens very fast. she had all intentions to slow down and go back to where they were, but she hadn't seen the rock up ahead.

if only she'd been looking ahead.

the front wheel of her scooter is caught against the stone, sending both her and the vehicle flying forward. "fuck!" she screams, her arms stretching out to try and break the fall.

"oh, my god!"

"that's going to hurt."

"are you stupid?"

"are you okay?"

she stays in her spot for a couple of seconds as she tries to digest the events of what just happened to her. one second, she had been on her scooter, the next she's knelt on the ground with her hands planted into the ground.

then it hits her: all of the pain from her fall.

she removes her hands from the ground and blinks rapidly, allowing the blood to seep from her now wounded palms. she feels it in her knees, surely scraping her favourite pair of pants when she had skidded against the floor. one of sebastian's pair of raybans is strewn not too far from her on the ground.

her scooter is ahead of her, which oscar is now bent over and pushing it upright.

she looks up, meeting logan's eyes with a hand over his mouth.

"it's not funny!"

"it's a little funny," logan shrugs before he bends down to meet her. "are you okay?"

tears immediately well in her eyes. she stretches out her hands and shows logan her injured palms. "i hurt my hands!"

"we can see that." mick is the next to kneel next to her, taking her hands into his. he moves her hands about and tries to assess her wounds. "we should get you back to your room and treat these."

"where are my glasses, you fucking- seriously, (y/n)?" she hears sebastian mutter. she lifts her head and watches sebastian pick up the pair from the ground and turn to her. "seriously? a race on the scooter i had to beg to get you?"

"it was liam's idea!" she cries, wiping her eye on the sleeve of her blouse. "he challenged me!"

"it was premeditated!" liam screams in an attempt to defend himself. "she said we would race once you got her scooter approved!"

"shut the fuck up!" she screeches, reaching out to push liam. "i told you not to tell on me!"

"okay, enough fighting," oscar sighs. he bends over and is the only one to think that she should not let her wounds be against the dirty ground for too long. "come on, let's get you all patched up."

"but my knees!" she cries, sniffling as she looks down at her scraped jeans. there's a small hole on both of her knees, the edges seeped with blood and small matching wounds on either. "i can't-"

"enough crying, drama queen," logan mutters, already hunched over and tapping his shoulders. "i'll carry you back. stop crying."

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicore @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @cashtons-wife @sadg3 @a10vely-yutazen @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @inejismywife @meadhgbcavanagh @2bormaybenot @love4lando

[xiaowhore]

scribbled hearts.

premise. alhaitham learns to stop falling asleep in places that isn't his bed the hard way. (alternatively, in which the librarian doesn't follow the script to wake sleeping beauty.)

Kaveh finds Alhaitham furiously scrubbing his face in the bathroom.

At first, he's absolutely ecstatic. For all that Alhaitham refuses to practice skincare, he's never gotten a zit on his face. An earth-shattering revelation to Kaveh, who maintains a strict nightly skincare routine—he's never gone to sleep without a moisturizing facemask. It's not the most infuriating thing about his roommate, but it annoys him that a guy who only washes his face in the morning has clearer skin than he does.

Is this it? Is Alhaitham receiving retribution at last? Is he finally suffering the consequences of his carelessness?!

But when Kaveh cranes his neck to get a better look at Alhaitham's face, he doesn't see any of the sort.

“Dude...” Kaveh can't even laugh due to sheer incredulity, staring at Alhaitham with a pitying look. Alhaitham thinks it would be less irritating if he just laughed in his face. “Did a third-grader pick on you?”

Alhaitham grits his teeth, wiping the remnants of ink on his face. He's mostly gotten rid of the sparkly anime eyes you drew over his eyelids, but it still looks like a fading black eye. The blush lines on his cheeks are a work in progress, but they'll disappear with some effort.

“They have the maturity of one, at least.”

Alhaitham has met his fair share of librarians—there's the stern, no-nonsense kind he's gotten forehead flicks from every time he's caught dozing off on his thesis paper; the introverted bookish type who stutters as they nervously but firmly tell him off for hogging all the books a certain class needs for a report; the motherly sort who smuggles him coffee in his all-nighters when he looks like death itself...

And then there's you.

Cheekier than his brat of a roommate, you somehow manage to annoy him like nobody else can. He'd rather have you scold him for treating the library as a second bedroom than clip ribbons to his hair whenever you catch him sleeping. Hell, he'd take a skull-shattering forehead flick over doodles on his face any day. But even if he preaches his troubles to anyone willing to listen, they're never sympathetic.

Because for some reason, you're never like this to anyone else.

If anyone at campus were asked to describe you, they'll say you're a model student. Scholarly, courteous, standing tall with dignified grace; you're the perfect picture of a goody-two-shoes. Nothing like the childish brat who terrorizes his nap schedule on a daily basis.

People who have a vendetta against him is nothing new. What he doesn't understand, however, is what he did to be the object of your wrath.

“Maybe [Name] likes you. Kind of like how boys bully the girl they like,” is the ridiculous answer Kaveh gives him, dropping those words like they weigh nothing with a nonchalant shrug. Alhaitham would think it more likely for the reverse to be true; your insistence to dedicate your time into ruining his day is nothing short of admiration—surely a testament to just how much you hate him.

...Okay, so maybe Alhaitham could guess a few things for why. There's been a handful of times (read: it happens at least thrice a week) he kept you stationed at the library longer than you had to be because he fell asleep until closing hours, and he has a tendency to forget returning the materials he borrows for his thesis to the library...

So. Perhaps this was a consequence of his actions after all.

He argues that there are far more mature methods to resolve this issue, though.

Alhaitham stares at the crudely drawn portrait scrawled on his arm, deeply unimpressed. Although he's not one to boast about his looks, he's rather sure he isn't as much of an eyesore as you drew him to be, his nose an exaggerated point (a literal triangle) and his lips wide open as he drools, dangerously close to the rectangles he guesses are supposed to be books. Don't sleep on the reference books!! You'll get drool all over them >:(, reads the scribbled letters beside the portrait, an angry face scrawled haphazardly next to them.

(Still, by the corner of his eye, he spots a cup of his usual order of coffee, a neon pink sticky note pasted on the lid: Wake up and finish your report quickly, I have a show to catch at 8 :>

It would be easier to hate you if being bratty is all there is to your personality, really.)

You scribble all over your notes.

It's a fact Alhaitham has known about you since long ago. Everything else about you is neat and orderly, but every page of your notebook has some sort of doodle on the corners. They range from meticulous side-profiles of whoever sits beside you that day to meaningless hearts and smiley faces akin to what a five-year-old child might make.

If you've chosen to be more artistic for the doodles you draw all over him, perhaps Alhaitham might not mind as much. It's unfortunate you much rather prefer drawing exaggerated tear streaks on his face.

“I'm quite certain this is a form of harassment,” Alhaitham grumbles, rubbing his face with makeup remover. As pointless as it is to express his woes to the cause of said woes, he finds himself seated before the reception desk to keep you company anyway. “I don't understand why you're still doing this.”

“It's a punishment for falling asleep and keeping me holed up in here to guard the library until it closes,” you drone, fixing the library cards. “And yet you still refuse to stop. Is it really so hard to go to the dormitory instead?”

Alhaitham shrugs. A sigh inevitably escapes your lips.

Eventually, you run out of stupid things to draw on his skin whenever you catch him sleeping.

You start to write your shopping list on his arm instead.

“Why on earth would you need three cartons of eggs?” Alhaitham leans against the desk you're stationed at, reading the bulletpoints on his skin.

Eventually, Alhaitham gets used to scrubbing off your vandalism too. It's his personal brand of skincare.

“They're on sale today,” you reply, signing the papers requesting new stocks of books. “And I was planning on baking, so it's better I have plenty of ingredients for trial and error.”

“Sounds heavy,” he hums, eyes scanning the rest of your list. “Want me to come with?”

At that, your pen stops moving. “...Why?”

“I need to buy cereal.”

(No he doesn't. Kaveh went on a grocery run yesterday.)

“Sure, I guess...?” It's an unexpected development, but you wouldn't turn away an extra pair of hands. “Should we get going, then?”

“Yeah.”

You raise an eyebrow. “...But you didn't borrow a book today yet. Aren't you getting anything first?”

Alhaitham looks around. “The book I wanted isn't here, so I suppose I still have to wait a few days for it.”

“What is it?” You click your pen, reaching for your notepad. (You already have one of those, Alhaitham seriously sees no point in you writing down your grocery list on his arm.) “I'll tell you when it gets returned.”

“...No, it's fine. Let's go, the eggs you wanted might be all gone if we take our time getting there.”

You jolt up in alarm, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “You're right, we should hurry!”

For all it's worth, you're pretty gullible.

“You're still keeping that up?”

Alhaitham looks up from his laptop, fingers halting in their movement. “What do you mean?”

Kaveh scrunches his nose, pointing at the scribbles on his palm. “Your weird mating ritual. Can't you two communicate like normal people?”

Alhaitham glances at the mess you've made of his arm, full of little messages and doodles you wrote back and forth to each other during Biology period. Alhaitham had been, perhaps for the first time, not feeling drowsy. Regardless, you've taken to treating his skin as paper (“Save the trees,” you told him once, ignoring the disbelieving expression on his face), and Alhaitham has already accepted that you won't stop doing it as long as you still find it amusing.

“We do talk. Normally.”

“And if you do, why are you still doing... that.”

Alhaitham doesn't have anything to say to that. He did think it was inconvenient to wash all the messages off, and there are far more practical modes of communication.

But for some reason, he can't find it himself to say that he outright dislikes it.

And maybe he traces the shapes you draw on his skin, in the private confines of his room where no one can see him. Maybe he admires the smooth strokes of your penmanship, the adorable curls of your letters, the bubbly font that always makes him chuckle because it's just so like you.

There are hearts sometimes, or even flowers when you feel like drawing something more detailed. The ugly sketches of him sleeping are somewhat annoying, but he still finds himself endeared. Though some things are appallingly inaccurate—you've done his nose a horrible injustice more than once—he notices the correct placement of beauty marks on his face, the sharp edges of his eyes, the meticulous dimple that faintly appears when he smiles.

A thrill runs through him when he thinks of you paying attention to him, more than you've ever given anyone else.

And, well. Alhaitham's certain he's been doing plenty of that for you.

“Don't you think you're being unfair?”

You pause in your typing, averting your eyes from the computer monitor to glance at Alhaitham. “Unfair in what, exactly?”

He mindlessly spins a pen with his fingers, staring at the blank canvas that was your arm compared to the sketchbook you've made out of his. “You're the only one who writes on me.”

“What, you want to write your shopping list on me for a change?” you arch up an eyebrow, unperturbed. “I thought you said it was impractical.”

“I never said I wanted to write my shopping list.”

“What else would you write, then?”

Alhaitham reaches for your arm. “Give me your hand.”

You blink, not quite unwilling yet confused all the same. You offer your hand and he uncaps his pen, scribbling on your palm. You've never been on the receiving end of this little game, so you're not sure what to expect from him.

“There.” Satisfied, he lets go and stands up. “I'm going home for the day. Good luck with the rest of your shift.”

“See you tomorrow, I guess...?” you wave at him in farewell, but he's quick to spring on his feet and dart out the door. “What's his deal...”

You turn over your hand, seeing a string of numbers written in neat font.

“Oh.”

Alhaitham feels silly for anticipating a text like some lovestruck teenage girl who exchanged numbers with her crush.

The blinking cursor on his blank essay document almost looks mocking, and as time passes by, the only word he's managed to type out is “The.” Even so, his attention is completely locked on his phone, devoid of any notifications.

If it weren't for Kaveh being nosy the other day, he wouldn't have gotten the idea of giving you his number. He did think something had to change, but he didn't know how to get there. But now that he's gotten this far, he can expect a little bit, right?

At last, his phone chimes its long awaited notification. Alhaitham is quick to ditch his laptop and shuts it closed, reaching for his phone where it sits on his desk. He swears he's never typed his password so fast before in his life.

Unfortunately, the text he's been anticipating for a good portion of the day is nothing but a disappointment.

Unknown number: eggs milk whipping cream flour

Unknown number: baking powder cocoa powder vanilla extract sugar

What was he expecting anyway?

He sighs and leans back on his chair, solemly pushing his laptop open. He doubts this message requires a response back.

Another notification lights his phone.

This time, Alhaitham doesn't even have the energy to unlock his screen. He squints at the notification preview.

Unknown number: wanna come over when I finish baking the souffles?

He doesn't quite drop his phone in shock, but it's a near thing.

You: I'll go carry the groceries too.

Unknown number: thanks! 💖

[cursingtoji]

I am back for more

31… BUT HEAR ME OUT 😩 I can’t pick between Suguru and Choso because they both fit it SOO well so you pick ☺️💕

𝕿𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝕬𝖗𝖙𝖎𝖘𝖙!𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔

⊱ fem reader x heavily tattooed choso, porn with a plot, dirty talk, semi-public sex, fingering, a tongue piercing; The Clichés ™;

note: winter i remember us talking about tattoo artist choso and i went feral with it, geto is mentioned but he does not participate (yet? 👀)

tattoo artist!Choso who is heavily tattooed mostly black and gray art. his fair skin contrasting with the dark ink on his arms and neck. black smudged eyeliner around his brown eyes make his look upon you feel a thousand times deeper

choso is a sight for sore eyes

he’s exactly the kind of guy you would expect to see working in a tattoo shop

when you go get a matching tattoo with your best friend is when you first see him, writing something down at the reception and not noticing you at first

his pretty face and deep eyes greet you both with a smile so pretty that makes you forget the name of your scheduled artist.

“matching tattoos…” he looks in a book as you hope him to be the artist, “ah here, Suguru!” he calls and a man with black hair tied in a bun comes to you and your friend.

“thank you” you smile getting a wink back from him.

suguru is very friendly, he asks your bestie questions about your friendship since she’s the first one to get inked while you look around the shop, more specifically at the art in frames hanging all around the walls.

one catches your eye: a traditional japanese dragon with some flowers and clouds around it.

you even get closer to take a better look at the intricate details

your friend has to tap your shoulder when shes done cause you completely spaced out thinking about that art on your body

suguru can’t help but notice how your eyes keeping swinging back to that piece on the art while he’s tattooing your forearm

“you know that was done by one of our guys” he says, “Choso. You met him in the reception” he points with his chin to the handsome man

“really? that’s so beautiful… was it done for a client or something like that?” you ask wanting to know if someone else already had that piece of art tattooed.

“no, not really. choso created that on his own” suguru smirks when sees you biting your lip “you know… that would look gorgeous on your back or thigh” you were already tempted without suguru pushing you

by the time your matching tattoo is done, suguru had already convinced you to come back and get the dragon on your thigh, since choso was nowhere to be seen, suguru himself scheduled your appointment with choso for next week.

“gotcha an appointment” suguru says finding choso on the break room

“oh yeah?”

“she’s gonna get the dragon with flowers that has been on the wall for months”

choso stops all he’s doing and looks at suguru with an empty expression

“i know i know, you’re afraid to tattoo it, client not liking and you ending up heart broken cause it’s your favourite drawing of yours…” choso delivered a light punch on his friend’s shoulder, “but come on, the girl was so cute and she really loved it”

it’s not like choso could just call you and say he wasn’t gonna do it so after another punch on suguru he returned to his station and followed his week until the day you returned to studio

saying you were anxious is an understatement

it would be a pretty large tattoo that you decided to get on your thigh, but the expectation to see choso again played a big part on your apprehensiveness

your artist is already at the reception talking to a younger guy you haven’t seen around the last time

you greet them both and say your there for your appointment, the younger one asks who your artist is

“she’s mine, come on sweetheart” he says so casually and leaves you trying to regulate your heartbeats

choso takes you upstairs to the corner of the room and tells you to get comfortable on the chair after you okayed the size of the stencil

“i need you to take it off or it’ll get stained with ink” he pointed to your shorts and closed the curtain, he stayed there but turned around pretending to organize the caps to give you some privacy

you wiggle out of the article and sat back on the chair with your black undies and nothing else under the waist, thankfully you chose a good one, when you’re comfortable choso approaches to rub some alcohol and place the stencil

as soon as you agree he begin to trace the patterns with you sitting on the partially reclined chair

“how we doing?” he looks up after half an hour, having finished part of the drawing

“i’m alright” you sigh

“strong girl, we can make a break in another hour, then i’ll have finished the flowers” he assures and go back to focusing on your thigh

having a gorgeous man so close to your crotch was having an effect on you that didn’t match the pain he was inflicting

of course it hurt but every time he gets too close to your skin and you feel his hot breathing fanning over the sore area you unconsciously press your thighs together

and choso is not stupid, of course he notices how aroused his cute client is, he has his hand on your inner thigh and whenever your reflexes kick and you try to close them he tights his grip on you to avoid you moving and screwing up his lines

“sure you’re okay?” he stops the machine to run vasiline on your skin very softly while looking in your eyes, you can’t find your voice to answer him “we can take a break now, maybe i can get you to relax a little” he doesn’t need to move his hand much to touch the covered lips of your pussy, when he does you whimper

“i can smell how wet you are, does pain turn you on that much?” he removes his hand to snap his glove out and touch the wet patch on your underwear with his bare fingers

you shake your head “no? what was it then? don’t tell me it’s me” he raises from his stool staring from above while you look back at him with doe eyes “aren’t you cute” he murmurs kissing your forehead and pushing your underwear aside to run his fingers on your wet folds a couple of times before pushing them in

“i need you to keep it down for me, can you do that?” he murmurs it so low you barely hear it due to the other voices on the other side of the curtain, you nod and starts to move his fingers skillfully

“naughty girl, booked a tattoo just to get your pussy played with tsk tsk” he adds a second finger keeping your clit under his thumb

“no! i really want it” you reply immediately not wanting him to think for a second you didn’t love his art

that seemed to be enough affirmation for choso, who leans taking your chin with his free hand, he stops right before your lips studying the little pout you have and how dilated your pupils are

he smirks and softly bites your bottom lip, which makes you yelp but he licks it apologetically

choso feels like eating you whole, the way you respond to him is mesmerizing

“c-choso i’m close” you grip his arm and he pushes his tongue in, swallong your moans cause the last thing he needs is one of his coworkers finding out about this

you didn’t notice at first due to his ministrations bellow your waist but he had a tongue piercing, the cold metal rolls between your tongues, a new exciting addition to an already great kiss

his thumb flicker your clit and you press your thighs around his hand climaxing hard and silently

“good girl” he pulls away taking a string of saliva, you rest your head on the chair recovering from your high, for a second your eyes close but soon open them again when you feel a tissue touch your sensitive core

“wait aren’t you— aren’t we—?” you look down to his bulge, he was clearly aroused too

“calm down lady, this is just the first session” he laughs and gently cleans you and the chair finishing up by placing your underwear back, “lemme finish this and if you don’t tap out or squirm i’ll reward you in the end” he winks before disappearing behind the curtains for a couple of minutes, you take the chance to look down at your skin

it was a bit swollen but you could see that the part he had inked already was perfect, the dragon was halfway done and you couldn’t wait to see it completed

when choso gets back he’s pleasurably surprised to find you looking at your leg with a smile in your face

“lemme see…” a few hours later you’re at the reception talking to the boy from before to schedule your return in order to color the rest of the tattoo, “choso is free next—“

“actually yuuji you can book her for this weekend” choso steps up, just walking down the stairs. moments before he told to check with yuuji while he cleaned his station

“you are not working this weekend” yuuji looks at him suspiciously

“i am now” choso emphasize by tapping his finger on the date at the planner

“hm okay” yuuji takes your information and you thank him before choso leads you out

“you’ll be working just for me?” you ask once you’re out

“yeah but you’ll buy us lunch after i’m done”

“done with the tattoo?”

“done with you” your eyes widen and you’re already excited for your date

“okay, I’ll pay, but…” you step closer to him but not too much so the people inside the shop don’t notice, “you’ll have to use your tongue”

“you liked that?” he rolls his tongue out displaying the shiny round metal, “fine i’ll show you what i can do with it next time”

See also: “who did this to you?” + Sukuna

[gatorbites-imagines]

Dude, Absolutely write more about Steve and his 200 year old boyfriend. I wanna see into their life together more. Does Y/N become part of the avengers? What’s an average day for the two of them? What do the other Avengers think of them together? Has Steve ever called Y/N daddy out in public or in earshot of the other Avengers on accident? How inseparable are they? Anything you can come up with I’ll love man. Your writings so damn good!

Steve Rogers x Male reader

Headcanons

I was honestly so in love with the kinktober prompt with Steve and his 200-year-old lover, so I got excited when I got this request. Let’s say his hero name is Titan, just to have some old school sounding name.

The morning after your reunion, the two of you just laid in Steves bed, basking in each other’s presence and the fact that you were both alive.

After many kisses, from pecks to deep tongue filled kisses, and after a few rounds of Steve riding you again, as he was so taken with the fact that he finally could, you two finally talked.

You explained to him how you were a mutant, and how sorry you were for never telling him, how it had never crossed your mind to do so. And he apologized for throwing his life away like that, and leaving you the way he did.

Over the next couple of weeks, you stay in his apartment, even when Steve goes out to do avenger work or do stuff for SHIELD. He is always so tense when he walks in through the door, but he quickly finds you and crawls into your lap with a sighed “Daddy”, as if your presence alone is enough to calm him.

During this time, you introduce him to the future better than anyone else is able too, even rewarding him for being such a good student, just for the fun of it. You also end up telling him not to trust SHIELD, as you’ve seen who is involved with it, and what they do.

The Avengers team just assume Steve is uncomfortable with the future, and that’s why he’s always rushing home after missions or meetings, but in reality its to get home to you. When days are too rough, all he needs is you to squeeze him so tight his vision starts blurring and he’s left lightheaded.

He needs his daddy to take him out of his head, to take away his duty as Captain America, and just let him be your boy. Being with you is refreshing in the way that you always see him as Steve before you see him as Captain America, you’ll always see him as your boy before anything else.

The avengers first discover your existence during the attack on New York, as there is no way in hell you’ll allow your boy to run around on his own, especially not when you have more than a hundred years of experience than any of the members of the Avengers.

So, imagine their surprise when you come crashing in on your motorcycle, throw it right at a cluster of enemies, and immediately start tearing through the enemies with extreme skill.

I haven’t decided if you have any powers except for extreme strength, regeneration, no aging, the likes. But if you want, you can imagine the reader having any powers you want.

When everything is done and over with, the team, except for Steve, tenses when you start marching towards them. Seeing how you ripped apart the aliens with as much difficulty as one would a sheet of paper, they are on edge.

That is until you walk right past Tony, right past Natasha, right past all of them, walking right towards Steve. Whose face you take in your hands and start turning him this way and that, checking him over for injuries.

They’re all speechless to a certain degree, some more than others, especially when they see Steve start smiling and blushing like some kind of fair maiden.

Tony pulls a whole “are you guys also seeing this”, especially when you kiss Steve out of nowhere, and Steve almost arches into it, forgetting his shield somewhere on the ground to clutch onto you like a couple in an action movie.

Tony ends up being the one clearing his throat and being all “soooo… you gonna introduce us?” to get Steve and your attention.

Steve almost ends up introducing you as his Daddy, but he catches himself the last second and introduces you as his lover from before the war. When they want to know how you’re still alive, you just shrug and say you’re a mutant and you go by Titan.

After that you just kinda start hanging around the tower, but you aren’t an official part of the team. You don’t want to work for SHIELD, and you don’t want to work for the government. you’re also technically an honorary member of the X-men, a role you take seriously.

You end up getting along pretty well with the rest of the team, as you can take an interest in at least some of the things they are all into. You especially get along well with Tony, when you tell him you knew his father, and that he was a huge tool.

Seeing Steve with a man means that most of them need to change up the mental image they had of Steve, but seeing how happy and domestic you guys are, it’s clear it’s been a long-lasting relationship that just wasn’t in the history books.

If you guys end up rescuing Bucky and fixing him up without the whole civil war situation, you all end up just kinda living at the tower. You have your own apartment in Brooklyn, but its mainly for storage or if you and Steve need to go somewhere without anyone with super hearing nearby.

In the end its Bucky that exposes you guys for your title thing, as Steve has been too embarrassed to do it out in public the way you guys used too, and you respect his wants and needs.

It’s said in a very casual conversation too. Something along the lines of Bucky asking Steve “so, where’s was your daddy going this week anyway?” after you left to help the X-men. It causes a laugh from some of your teammates, as they think it’s a joke, until they see the blush on Steves face.

They’d think it’s just a kink for the bedroom in the beginning, until they start paying attention and hearing Steve mumble it to you when he needs comfort or reassurance. That’s when they learn its much more than just a kink.

It’s a way for Steve to give up all the pressure and responsibilities he feels in his life, for him to feel small and protected, to feel cared for, no matter what mistakes he may make. Its also there to reassure you that you are wanted and needed, that there is someone who loves you so deeply they want you to carry such a title to them.

Most of your team doesn’t really get it, but most of them have probably also seen weirder in their lives. Steve is also still a very private person in that regard, so it doesn’t call you that out in public, and you don’t make him.

Steve does allow himself to be more affectionate and vulnerable with you when your teammates are around, since they to some degree know what kind of relationship you guys have.

Like sitting in your lap on the couch when the team has movie nights, or letting you serve him dinner, or leaning against your chest when you hug him from behind. Or the times he is unsure of what to do in certain situations, and he looks at you for guidance.

Bucky is the calmest about it, since he remembers it from the 40s, and he had been around when it all started out. He didn’t have a title like you did, but he had seen how much comfort it brought you two, so he never questioned it.

So, all in all, the team accepts it as a dynamic you two have that they don’t really get involved with. Your knowledge helps them take down Hydra, and keeps lotsa the drama that happens in the movies from happening. Steves daddy didn’t just save him, but a lot of his teammates and innocent lives. Yay for Steves daddy.

[pupkashi]

boyfriend!yuta headcanons

a/n: i have been having major yuta brainrot as of late ,, here u guys go ! i hope these are too badly ooc seeing as though I’ve only written for him a couple times ! they’re a bit all over the place so plz lmk what y’all think :3

wordcount: 1,183

masterlist

first things first this boy is an absolute nervous wreck anytime he’s around you before he asks you out, I’m talking stuttering and fumbling over his words, looking anywhere but you, trying his best to not embarrass himself (he inevitably does poor guy)

asks you out when it’s just the two of you, on a picnic or watching a movie, his palms are sweaty because what if he just hallucinated you saying you liked him back and this is a big mistake??

okok this boy would definitely wear those ‘i love my s/o’ shirts, starts off as a joke, then wears it unironically because yeah, he does love you, what about it??

the biggest simp in the world yall, does anything you want him to, buys you whatever you want whenever you want it, you tell him jump he’s asking how high while already jumping

it’s a serious problem, considering you now have to make it clear that just because you say something is nice doesn’t mean you want it

“this sweater is nice right yuu?” “yeah it is really nice” ,,,, “yuta why do you have two bags?” “i got you the sweater in every color you like :3”

you’re always getting packages at your door, handing them to him only for him to say ‘oh that’s actually for you!’

the worst part of this is he absolutely hates when you get him something, always telling you to spend your money on yourself or save it, saying he has everything he needs already

still accepts your gifts with open arms, over the moon because ‘you really thought of me ?? i love you :(‘ he literally is ‘🥺’ if it was a person

calls you every sweet nickname he can think of: baby, babe, sweetheart, darling, my love, honey (he tends to favor my love and darling)

you tend to call him things like: baby, lover, pretty boy, angel

he turns into an absolute blushing mess when you call him pretty boy and angel, giggling and trying to not forget what he was talking to you about in the first place

the kind of boyfriend who will buy you flowers weekly, no matter what.

ever since he overheard you on the phone talking about how much you loved his ‘just because’ flowers, he made it a reoccurring purchase at a local flower shop

gets you all your favorite snacks when he just so happens to stop by at a convenience store, handing them to you with a happy grin, ‘we can have movie night with snacks now!’

has your coffee order memorized before you guys even started dating, rarely asks if you want some, usually just surprises you with it <3

he is such a homebody boyfriend :( prefers calm and cozy nights in sipping on hot chocolate cuddles in warm blankets over going out

takes you out to nice restaurants though !! especially if you like going out, he’ll take you on all kinds of dates

goes ice skating, amusement parks, the fair, laser tag (you destroyed him), escape rooms, literally everything

at restaurants if you’re between two things to order he’ll get one of the ones you want so you get try both :3

if you don’t like what you ordered he’ll swap with you / will tell you to order something different, saying he’ll take the other plate home and eat it tomorrow so you don’t feel bad abt it <3

LOVES going grocery shopping with you </3 finds it so domestic and lovely to be able to pick you celery with you (he also gets excited when you ask him what he wants to eat so you can get the stuff for it)

he’ll always tell you he wants to bake cookies and other treats with you, grabbing all the ingredients and grinning at you sheepishly when the cart starts to get full

“we came here for four things, how did you manage to make me get all these things” “cause you love me” he giggles

giggles at everything you say !!!!! topples over laughing when you tell a joke (we get it bro you love us 😭)

it’s so easy to make him blush and flustered, literally just winking at him makes his brain short circuit (let’s not get started on when you two make out) (he whimpers 🤭)

has pictures of you as his lockscreen, always smiles a bit when he unlocks his phone, when he’s away on missions he finds himself checking the time more often than he really needs to

AMAZING TEXTER !!!!! will reply to you very quickly and address all your messages and reacts to all the things you send him (everyone is amazed because is this the same yuta who left them on deliver red for three days before replying ??)

he is SO the jealous type ,, he tries not to be, really he hates having negative emotions of any kind, but he can’t help it :(

his entire demeanor changed drastically when someone starts flirting with you, he’s standing up straighter, clenching his jaw and has that threatening look on his face, no sign of the once cheerful and bubbly boy

he’s wrapping an arm around you, tugging on your hand and trying to get you alone so he can make out with you and remind both you and himself that you’re only his <33

insanely protective of you !!! he’ll be holding your hand in public, always making sure he knows where you are, in crowded areas he has one hand on your waist to help you through the crowds <33

will obliterate anyone who even tries to threaten you, ‘look at them again and you’ll be wishing i had killed you’ but in a not creepy and actually very 🦋way yk ?

really listens to you and everything you have to say, asking questions about your interests and genuinely loves listening to you talk about the things you like <3

i know he gets u literally everything but he gives you amazing and thoughtful gifts for special occasions !! he manages to always get you perfect gifts every single time <3

he compliments you everyday without fail, no matter where he is in the world, he will ALWAYS tell you how stunning you look !!!

reminds you everyday how much he loves you, telling you and leaving you little notes, writes you love letters like he’s away at war even though he’s most likely to get back before the letter even ships

cooks you dinner when he has the chance (he’s actually a pretty good cook!!) going all the way with wine (if you drink of course) and roses

uses your shampoo and conditioner sometimes because he just loves the way they smell and they remind him so much of u hehe

has your skincare routine memorized to when you’re too exhausted to do it he can do it for you <3

he’s overall just a soft and sweet lover, doing anything and everything he can for you because he knows you’re the one for him <33

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

[bussyslayer333]

Candy

summary: bob falls for a beautiful barista over the course of a few encounters.

pairing: robert floyd x hotbarista!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, jake being an asshat, bob having some self doubt but he gets over it, smutty smut smut at the end, sort of mentions of an age gap??

MDNI this is an 18+ fic

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first time Bob saw you was a Monday morning, he was meeting Phoenix and Rooster on his day off for coffee at a new place in town. It was a cute cafe, full of pastels and pastries and a little bell that jingled when he stepped in. The interior was larger than what he had expected, there were many booths, and a few tables by the front window. Phoenix and Rooster had managed to snag a cosy booth towards the corner of the room. He approached them with a smile on his face, happy to see his friends.

“Hey guys-”

“Bob, move!” Phoenix seethes slightly.

“Nice to see you too.” Bob rolls his eyes, sliding into the booth next to Bradley.

Bradley offers Bob an explanation, “There’s a super hot barista making our drinks right now.”

“Oh, fair enough.” Bob smiles, craning his neck around and trying to see who his friends were talking about.

Phoenix pipes up, “and when he says hot, we’re talking a total smoke show, like i’m pretty sure Rooster is still sporting a semi from when she asked if he wanted cream or not.”

“I am not!” Bradley whines, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

Bob was about to put his two cents on the situation, when suddenly his two friends were silenced from their bickering by a presence he felt over his shoulder.

“One double espresso and one peppermint latte?”

Phoenix beats Bradley for speaking first and Bob recognises her best flirtiest smile.

“Yeah, that’s us.” She says coolly.

“How could I forget?” The voice behind him teases as she places the drinks down, Bob watches Bradley’s cheeks flush again.

Finally, Bob turns to look at the alluring voice, only he hasn’t given you enough time to pull back from placing the drinks down and he finds his face hitting your cleavage. You make a shocked noise, and pull back giggling.

“That’s one way to make me take your order.”

Bob wished the earth would swallow him whole in that moment.

“God, I’m so sorry!” Bob pushes the words out of his mouth frantically.

Phoenix was never wrong, you were totally hot, but not just that, Bob thought. You were beautiful, and clearly funny, probably clever as well, kind (and he wouldn’t have ever said it but you had a great rack).

Phoenix butts in before Bob can ramble more apologies, “He’ll have a cappuccino.”

Bob watches you scribble down his order, in a little notepad you pulled from a pocket in the front of your pink half apron, tied neatly around your waist.

“Perfect.”

You smile down at him, and saunter off. Presumably, to make his drink. He wonders how you don’t notice the three pairs of eyes that watch as you walk away. You’re wearing tight black jeans and a tight cream long sleeve top, the pink apron creating a sweet contrast in your outfit. Once you’re out of earshot, Bradley and Nat finally allow themselves to cackle at Bob’s misfortune.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Bradley snorts.

Nat chokes slightly on her espresso before speaking up as well, “Sorry, I just remembered the panicked look on your face again.”

Bob groans, placing his head into his hands. He knew more often than not that girls like you didn’t go for guys like him, but now he had definitely fucked it. He watches as you make his drink, giggling with one of your coworkers as you work the machines. He imagines you’re telling him about the dork who just accidentally motorboated you trying to stutter out a one word order and groans again.

Bradley takes sympathy on Bob’s groaning and stifles his chuckles, “It’s not that bad! At least you got boobs in your face!”

Bob watches as Nat flicks Bradley in the head, mumbling something about him being a caveman.

“One cappuccino for the cute glasses guy who is now well acquainted with my boobs?” He can hear you giggle as you place the coffee down in front of him.

“That’s me.” Bob says with a hint of awkwardness, pointing his thumbs at himself. Was that an embarrassing thing to do? Probably. But you’re laughing and all Bob can think about his how much he wants to see you do it again.

“Is there anything else I can get you guys?” You ask with a smile on your face.

“We’re good, thank you.” Bradley gets there before Nat this time and pumps his fist under the table.

“I’ll be over here if you need me.” You reply and wander off again, hips swaying.

Bob is reminded of a saying he hears Jake using far too often to girls in the Hard Deck, it usually makes him mildly nauseous but now seems fitting. He does hate to see you go but love to watch you leave.

Nat pipes up again but this time in complaint, “How do you do it, Floyd?”

Bob cocks his head to the side, silently asking her to elaborate.

“She called you ‘cute glasses guy’, you’re so in there.”

Bob’s eyebrows raise so high he’s pretty sure they’re at his hairline. Did you actually call him cute?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The second time Bob has the pleasure of seeing you, he’s collecting caffeine for the team with Jake during a break after a particularly early start on the Friday of that same week. He’d been thinking about you for the past few days non stop, so when Phoenix suggested a coffee run, he knew exactly where to go.

What he should have bet on, was Jake also deciding you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Jesus Christ.” Jake drawled out.

Bob knew Jake had spotted you. Lo and behold, you were behind the counter, bent over trying to reach one of the syrup pumps. Same tight black jeans hugging your hips, this time paired with an old band t-shirt. You spin on your heel after hearing Jake’s exclamation, and start to recite your company’s spiel when a spark of recognition flashes across your face.

“Cute glasses guy!” You say almost excitedly.

Bob feels the heat rising in his cheeks as he watches Jake spin around and try and assess the area to see if there were any other dudes wearing glasses in the vicinity. There weren’t.

“Hi.” Bob smiles bashfully.

Jake, who can seemingly never keep his mouth shut decided to pipe up, “I’m feeling a little left out here Bobby, do you two know each other?”

Jake knew damn well how you knew each other, Nat had told everyone as soon as they got back to work. You watched as Bob stumbled over the beginning of a sentence, unsure of how to explain what had happened. You save him from himself and speak up,

“He gave me a very memorable shift on Monday.” You wink at Bob as you say it.

You figured that if this guy was close to Bob, then his other friends had already told him what had happened and he was just trying to rile Bob up.

“It would be my pleasure to give you a memorable shift darlin’.”

Bob rolls his eyes at Jake’s simpering drawl, texan accent heavy on his tongue. Luckily for Bob, you’re just as unimpressed. Usually you like your men a little more… reserved.

“I’m sure it would. What can I get for you today boys?” You ask, directed more towards Bob now.

He whips his phone out and starts reciting the the orders of the team, it’s a tad lengthy but watching you whisper all of his words to yourself again as you use a perfectly manicured hand to tap the drinks into the till makes it worth all the while.

You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear as you give him the total, “Will that be with military discount as well?” You gesture towards the two men in uniform. They both nod and you tap in an extra code, bringing the total down significantly.

“I didn’t realise you were military?” You question as you turn around to start making the drinks in the lengthy order, calling another girl out from the back to man the till.

“Naval aviators, sweetheart.” Jake supplies for you. “We’ll I’m a pilot, Bob’s a backseater.”

Bob can’t help but feel like Jake is trying to undermine him slightly. You don’t pick up on it.

“Backseater?” You ask your question directly towards Bob this time.

Bob clears his throat, “Uh yeah, basically I’m a Weapons System Officer, I sit in the back of the plane and man weapons and other stuff.” He didn’t want to bore you.

You smile, “Sounds important, is he your pilot?”You gesture towards Jake.

“No, the woman I was here with on Monday is.”

Your face lights up in recognition, “Oh yeah she was gorgeous! And the guy with the moustache?”

“Yeah he’s a pilot too.” Bob smiles, watching a scowl etch its way onto Jake’s face at the mention of Rooster. He makes a mental note to tell Phoenix what you had said about her.

You’re placing the final drinks down in their holders when Jake finally pipes up again, “You really are beautiful sweetheart.”

His eyes rake all over you, making Bob seethe. You don’t notice the anger radiating off Bob, but flush slightly under the compliment.

“Thanks, flyboy.”

Bob is cursing his lack of confidence, wishing he was the one being labelled with a nickname. He knew you were beautiful, he’d known way before Jake! He looks back up in time for you to hand him a bag with half the drinks inside, the other bag going to Jake.

“It was nice seeing you again Bob.” You preen at him, and add quickly on, “and meeting you, Jake!”

“Anytime, beautiful.” Jake thinks he’s got this one in the bag as he turns around to leave, he’s sure your number is gonna be scrawled on his cup when he opens the bag.

Bob doesn’t miss the way you roll your eyes when your hear the pet name, slyly winking at him once you realise he saw.

Once they’re all back on base handing out the coffees, Jake fully emptied out both the bags of the napkins. He makes a little “aha” noise as he finds what he’s looking for. A napkin with sharpie scrawled over it. His grin is quickly squashed as he throws the napkin in Bob’s direction. It lands on Phoenix’s lap and she reads what the sharpie note says.

cute glasses guy/bob

call me :)

***-***-***

Your name is signed with a little heart next to it at the bottom and Bob can’t help but break out into a wide smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The night before Bob next sees you was the Friday of the next week and you had been texting non stop since you had given him your number. You had even followed each other on instagram. Bob had spent the night scrolling through your posts with Phoenix, careful not to like any, so she had been holding the phone.

Every so often, she would stop and zoom in on one. Like the one of you at your most recent birthday, you were a good few years younger than him, he noted your star sign as well. The next few Phoenix stopped and zoomed in on had Bob wishing for an ice cold shower. The first was a few slides of you on vacation with your friends. A few standard group photos (you stood out from them by a mile), and one particularly gorgeous photo of you stood on the terrace of your hotel room; slightly sun kissed wearing a flimsy summer dress and your hair flipped to one side. The sun was setting in the background and Bob was pretty sure he was having some type of angina, but the last picture on the slide is what had him truly breathless. You were on the beach with your hair tied up messily, wearing a pathetic excuse for a bikini, your back was facing the camera but you were looking back at it squinting slightly over your shoulder. Bob didn’t want to seem too creepy, but Nat had thrown all caution to the wind. Immediately zooming in on your ass.

“Damn.” She muttered.

Bob discreetly tried to move the pillow from behind him over his lap. Nat, the ever perceptible noticed immediately and cackled.

“Same.” She patted him on the shoulder.

“Maybe we should stop stalking for the night.” Bob started.

Nat whined like a child being denied candy, “Cmonnnn just one more? Then I’ll never bother you again.”

Bob rolled his eyes and let her continue when she gasped far too theatrically.

“She just posted on her story!”

“Don’t click it-”

He had been far too slow in stopping his nimbled fingered friend.

“Holy shit.”

It was a mirror selfie, your room was lit up only by a warm lamp seen in the corner of the picture. You were posed on your knees wearing only a black high waisted body suit.

“Dude, she’s totally posting thirst traps for you!” Nat squealed.

Bob rolled his eyes, sure it was crazy that you posted something like that just when he was on your account, but how on earth would you know that he would be the first one to see it? There were a number of guys in your comments who you could be trying to impress. Or you could just be posting a photo that you liked.

What Bob and Nat didn’t know, was that you were sat in your room with your best friend Marley. You had been showing her photos from Bob’s instagram account when you received a notification that he had liked your post. It was from a little over a month ago and was slides full of your vacation photos. Marley shrieked.

“Oh my God, he was so stalking you!”

You giggle in realisation, “I hope he comments.”

Marley rolls her eyes, “Sure, Mr ‘I post pictures of cute dogs I see in the street’ is gonna comment on your blatant ass pics.”

You shove her playfully, “You said you liked those pics!”

She smiles, “Of course I do, and so does he clearly. I just don’t know if he’s brave enough to tell you so.”

You cock your head to the side, which eggs her on.

“You should post something, make him comment.”

That’s how you found yourself in the skimpiest piece of clothing you own, being positioned by your friend. Once you hit post, you felt a wave of nausea come over you. Marley noticed as the ever attentive friend she was and took your phone from you. She refreshed it a few times and screamed.

“He’s already viewed it!”

“WHAT?” You shriek far too loudly considering you had downstairs neighbours.

You grab your phone out of her hands to see for yourself. He was there in the viewers, along with your usual people. Then you hear the ping to notify someone has sent you a dm.

“Open it!” Marley says with the most urgency you’ve ever heard.

It’s from Bob.

_rfloyd93

replied to your story

damn 😍

Back in the barracks, Bob is trying to wrestle his phone from Natasha.

“DAMN?! I would never say that! You made me sound like Jake!”

They stop their huffing and puffing so Phoenix can explain. “And when has it ever not worked for him?”

Bob rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, he knows she’s right.

“Look she’s typing!”

Phoenix shoves his phone back into his hands.

you

like what you see?

Bob shows the message to Phoenix,

“What do i say?!”

Phoenix is much more nonchalant about the situation, she understands now that you definitely like Bob. She’s never seen someone so taken by her shy backseater.

“Just say the truth.” Nat shrugs

Bob types and untypes for a second before sending his message.

_rfloyd93

i’d like it more in person

You shriek once again, showing your phone to Marley who shrieks as well. You can hear your downstairs neighbour Mrs Bellman smacking her broom against the ceiling in hopes that you’ll shut up.

you

my shift ends at 6 tomorrow?

_rfloyd93

i’ll be there

You like his message and flop back on your bed with a dreamy sigh.

Marley laughs, “girl, you have got it bad.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The third time Bob sees you, is the next day when you’ve finished your shift. He’s waiting for you sat in one of the booths near the front, fiddling with his phone. Your coworker Julian points him out to you.

“Boobs guy is sat over there, babe.”

You giggle at him, untying your apron and folding it to put in your tote bag.

“I know, I’m meeting him.”

Julian gasps loudly and you shush him, pushing your finger to his lips. You slowly, pull your finger away and let him speak in a hushed tone.

“Oh my Goddddddd! Tell me everything on Monday please!”

You roll your eyes at him, “You know I will.”

With that you kiss his cheek and wander over to Bob.

“Hey.” You say slightly breathlessly.

He smiles up at you, “Hey.”

He takes in your appearance, signature tight black jeans and he recognises the black body suit, now he knows what it looks like underneath your jeans he flushes slightly. You look down at yourself slightly, placing a hand on your cocked hip.

“Like what you see?” You repeat your words from last night.

Bob flushes further, memories of what he had done after Nat had left last night leaving his cheeks hot to touch.

“You look gorgeous.” He says earnestly, looking up into your eyes.

You cup his cheeks with a hand and smile, “Thanks, Baby. Not too bad yourself.”

Bob feels his jeans tighten and wills himself to think of Grandma Floyd. He finally gets himself to speak, “I was thinking we could go for a walk, maybe get some drinks?”

You pull him up from his seat and link your arm through his, “Sounds perfect.”

Bob knew taking you to the Hard Deck was a risk, but it wasn’t a far walk from the cafe and the service was impeccable.

Pushing through the door he made eye contact with Phoenix first, she gave him a little thumbs. He was already feeling good but that gave him an extra boost of confidence.

During the 10 minute walk to the Hard Deck, you had talked about everything and nothing. Bob found out that your favourite colour was green, you had a pet dog back home called Frank and you had just finished college with a degree in business.

“Not to sound rude, but with a degree in business why do you work in a coffee shop?”

You smile, not taking offense and appreciating his curiosity, “I’m saving up, I want to open a coffee shop of my own, My dad said he could give me money for a deposit but I’m quite close myself now.”

Bob looks at you, wanting you to continue.

“I’ve been saving up since I got my first job in high school.”

Bob notices your confident demeanour has slipped and you seem bashful.

“That’s really cool.” He smiles and you can tell he’s being truthful. “When I was in high school I was a total drama geek.”

His attempt to to make you laugh works and your confidence is back, “I can definitely imagine you as a little Romeo.”

By the time you reach the Hard Deck you’ve both swapped enough embarrassing high school stories for a life time. Now Bob just hopes he can get through the night.

You and Bob are sat at a somewhat secluded table towards the corner of the room near the jukebox. You’re sipping on a vodka cranberry whilst Bob has a stella in a bottle with a label that he’s playing with. Bob decides it’s time to rid himself of the large sweater he was wearing to combat the night time chill that came with early winter in San Diego. You’re trying not to visibly swoon as you watch his biceps strain under the tight black top he’s wearing. His hair flops slightly without its gel to hold it in place so now looks slightly mussed. You reach over the table to fix it, Bob gets an eyeful down your top, he can’t complain.

Once you pull back you’ve got a cheeky smile on your face, Bob quirks an eyebrow,

“Who knew Bobby was hiding these guns under those chunky sweaters?” You giggle somewhat coyly.

You love watching the pink flush rise from his neck to his ear tips so you tease him further.

“Any other surprises you want to warn me about?”

“No, ma’am.” Bob doesn’t catch your drift fully, but his southern twang makes all up for it.

You feel your thighs clench slightly at the name he drops. You decide to move the conversation forward, thinking it’s best for your underwear.

“So what brings us here?” You gesture to the large amounts of navy memorabilia that surround the walls and ceilings of the Hard Deck.

“Me and my friends come here a lot, very navy friendly.” Bob smiles.

“Are they here? Your friends?” You question.

“Yeah, around here somewhere. They always are.”

“Can I meet them?”

That’s not what Bob had expected you to ask, but there was no way in hell he was gonna miss out on rubbing this in Bagman’s face.

“Definitely.”

You recognise three of Bob’s friends immediately. They’re all stood or sat around the pool table, taking turns and sipping beers. You learn their names properly this time. Phoenix is the beautiful woman who is Bob’s pilot (and also his only competition), Rooster is his moustachioed friend and Hangman is the tall blonde who had tried it on you.

“It’s nice to see you guys again!” You say hugging Phoenix and Rooster with an arm.

Another man with a moustache stood next to them pipes up, “Sorry, have we met before? I’m Payback, but you can call me Reuben.”

His smile is sweet, and you reach out to shake his extended hand. Another slightly shorter man stood next to him speaks,

“I would remember that face if we had met,” He’s charming as well, but no Bob. “I’m Fanboy.”

Phoenix comes to your rescue and explains the situation before retreating back to Rooster. Another tall man stood next to Jake laughs, “Oh my God, you’re the hot barista that Bob motorboated!”

Bob tenses slightly from his position beside you, you’re not sure if it’s because of the remembrance of the embarrassing action or if it’s the fact that you now know that him and all his friends had been referring to you as “the hot barista”.

You giggle at the man who had exclaimed (you think his name is Coyote),

“That’s me.”

Bob can only breathe a sigh of relief at your constant collectedness of anything cringeworthy that came your way.

Phoenix and Rooster had been watching all the interactions from a bit further back.

“She’s perfect for him, don’t you think?” Bradley nudges Phoenix. “They really balance each other out.”

Phoenix finally sighs out, “If they don’t work out do you think I’d still have a shot?”

Bradley snorts until he realises his friend is being serious, “Hey, let’s not go praying on anybody’s downfall.”

Phoenix rolls her eyes and walks off to get another beer. She cant help but smile as she catches you giggling at something Bob has said to Jake, you’re squeezing Bob’s bicep as you calm down and his arm is wrapped lowly around your waist. You really were perfect for each other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next time you see Bob is a week later when he’s picking you up from your apartment for your first “proper date.”

Bob had insisted on taking you out to dinner (as the gentleman he is). You had texted him about what to wear and he had simply told you that you’d look good in anything (and nothing, but he was too afraid to say that part). It was sweet, but ultimately unhelpful, so you were frantically sending Marley photos of dresses you were thinking of wearing.

The first one was a tight minidress, it was red and didn’t leave much to the imagination.

marls <3

hot, maybe too slutty for a first date?

you

ur right, hang on

The second was a floral sundress, it had a wrap part around the cleavage.

marls <3

adorable, too casual for dinner tho

you

ugh

i have nothing to wear

marls <3

i’m sure he’d love that

you

shush

WAIT

i’ve got it

The last dress you try on is a black maxi dress, it’s tight but tasteful. With a low enough neckline to be teasing but not indecent.

You send the photo to Marley and await her response.

marls <3

💦💦😩😩🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🤤🤤🤤

you

ur an idiot

this the one?

marls <3

u love me

and def

You spritz your makeup with setting spray and spray extra perfume on your pulse points. You then hook your hoops into your ears and check the time on your phone. 19:20. You had ten minutes before Bob said he would arrive, you check back through your texts to make sure you got the timing right. Not that you could forget, you’d been looking forward to seeing him again all week.

Before you knew it you had been daydreaming about Bob’s strong arms for the past five minutes, when your phone chimes.

bobby ❤️

i’m here

do u want me to come up?

you

dw!

i’ll be down in a sec

You pull on your wedges and make your way to your door, taking one final look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing you clutch.

You make light conversation in the elevator with the teen girl who lives with her mother in the apartment across from you.

“You look beautiful, are you meeting someone?”

You smile bashfully at her, “Yeah he’s really sweet!”

You had given her the odd piece of boy advice when her mother had asked you to check in on her when she was working nights.

“Don’t tell on me if you see me coming back with him tonight.”

She giggles as if you’ve let her in on a big secret, and exits the elevator with you as it hits the ground floor. She peeks round to see who you’re meeting and whispers in your ear before she turns to go the vending machines.

“He’s hot!”

You chuckle at her, “I know right!”

Bob looks handsome as ever, he’s pushed his hair back and is wearing a tight black button up shirt with black slacks and smart shoes. You realise you look quite the matching couple.

As you reach him, both his hands come to rest on your hips, yours on his chest.

“Hey, handsome.”

That makes a smirk come to rest on Bob’s lips, your thighs squeeze together involuntarily at the action.

“You look fucking incredible.” He charms.

He takes your hand in his and holds you out to do a little twirl for him. As you spin around he sucks a deep breath in.

“How did I get so lucky?”

You peck him on the cheek, “I could ask myself the same thing.”

You love him like this, breezy. Like there’s nothing in the world that could weigh him down.

He helps you into the passenger seat of his jeep, before going around to sit in the drivers side.

“I’ve booked us a table at Fucina, I forgot to ask if Italian was okay with you?” Bob asks, nerves taking over him partly.

You rest your hand on his thigh to comfort him, “It’s perfect.”

As it turns out, it was more than perfect. The food was incredible, as well as the wine.

“Bob, this is the best food I’ve ever eaten.”

He smiles at that and watches as you moan after swallowing another mouthful of pasta, trying to ignore how his slacks tighten.

“Do you want to try some of mine?” Bob offers, he’s slyly trying to feed you.

“Sure!”

Bob twirls the tagliatelle around his fork and leans over to pop it in your mouth. You wrap your mouth around the fork and pull off of it with a pop, leaving a small amount of the creamy sauce on the side of your lip. Bob watches in awe as you chew and swallow the pasta, your tongue peeks out to swipe at the sauce left on your lip.

“How have you made pasta sexy?”

You laugh at his expression, “I would argue pasta has always been sexy.”

You both finish your meals and polish off the bottle of white that the waiter had recommended, it had gotten pretty late but there was still flocks of well dressed couples eating at the restaurant. You were finally able to flag down a waiter,

“Can we get the cheque please, Daniel?” You smile, looking down at the waiters name tag politely.

The waiter flushes, “Of course, miss.” And scurries off.

Before you can speak, Bob butts in, “There is no way on earth you’re paying.”

You roll your eyes and reach for your clutch, “Shush, handsome.”

Bob is faster than you and your clutch is tucked under his armpit before your fingertips can grasp it. You pout and Bob has half a mind to listen to every command you ever make for the rest of his life, but his mother would be bitterly disappointed if he allowed (who he thought to be) the most beautiful girl in the world to pay for her food.

“Don’t give me that Southern gentleman crap.”

Bob’s cheeks flush as he realises you knew exactly what he was going to say.

“You’re not paying for anything.”

You give him your best doe eyes, squeeze your cleavage together and pout, “Halvesies?”

Bob looks away and says something he never thought he would to you.

“No, darlin’ please, let me do this.” He drawls.

You relent, the pet name sending heat to your cheeks.

“Fine, but i’m paying next time.”

Bob chuckles, but his heart leaps hearing you sound so certain about a ‘next time’. The waiter returns with the cheque and Bob doesn’t even allow you the courtesy of seeing the bill. He knows you’d be angry at how much it was, but he thought it was so worth it, just for you.

Leaving the restaurant, the air has much more of a chill to it than before you left. You try to stifle a shiver as the breeze hits you but Bob has already noticed and is shedding himself of his jacket. Draping it over your shoulders. It’s a tad big on you, but smells incredibly like him. You try to discreetly stick your nose into the neckline and inhale deeply. Bob giggles at your action,

“Smell good?”

“Heavenly.”

It’s a short walk to Bob’s car and he’s rushing around to open the door for you immediately. He gives you your clutch that he had been graciously holding for you before walking round back to the drivers side.

The radio hums peacefully between you two playing 80s r&b hits on the slow drive back to your apartment. The sky is a dusky blue, and the city lights blur with the stars the darker it gets. You hum along as the song switches to one you recognise, singing quietly as you watch Bob drive. He looks so incredibly handsome lit up by the streetlights.

The song reaches its crescendo and now your full on singing at Bob whilst he giggles at your theatrics, “It’s like candy!”

You’re shimmying in your seat and Bob watches with practically hearts for eyes. You laugh heartily and Bob thinks it’s probably the best thing he’ll ever hear.

“Eyes on the road, handsome.”

Who is he to deny you anything? Bob reluctantly pulls his eyes from you and realises he’s much closer to your apartment than he thought. He goes right at the next turning and spots your building at the end of the road. Just as he’s about to start sighing you open your mouth, “Will you come up to my apartment with me?”

Bob swears his heart is beating out of his chest, “Of course.”

Once he’s parked, Bob once again rushes round to open the door for you and help you out. You stumble slightly, landing on the side of your wedge and steady yourself on Bob’s strong arms. Before he can ask if you’re okay your lips are on his. Bob swears he’s in heaven right now. You lips are soft on his, plump and tasting of the remnants of the wine you finished off as well as the tang of the lipgloss you had reapplied in the car. You pull away from him and Bob could have cried from the loss of contact,

“Sorry, I didn’t even ask if I could kiss you.” You mumble slightly.

Bob sighs, “Please shush, and do it again.”

You giggle and immediately reunite your lips. This time there’s a little more passion with the confirmation that he wants it fully. His tongue slides into your mouth, meeting your own making you let out a whimper. You guide his hands from politely at your waist down to your ass, he groans into your mouth, dampening your underwear. You pull away and a string of saliva connects your lips. You want to be disgusted but your pretty sure your core just clenched with more want than you’ve ever felt.

“Come on.” You grab Bob’s hand with a coy smile and drag him into your building and towards the elevator.

The ride up to your floor feels painstakingly long to Bob, when it finally dings and the doors open he lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

He follows your footsteps as you walk tantalisingly slowly towards your apartment door. You shuffle through your clutch to retrieve your keys before pushing them in the lock and walking through the door. Bob is quick on your heels. You stop abruptly and bend over to undo your wedges. The meat of your ass bumps against Bob’s crotch and he holds in a deep groan.

“Minx.” You hear him mutter as you wander over to your kitchen to grab two glasses and a bottle of red.

You return back to where Bob is now sat on your couch. You place the two glasses on the coffee table along with the bottle.

“Pour us a glass and meet me in my room.”

Bob nods in understanding and blatantly watches your behind as you saunter over to your bedroom. After finishing off pouring the second glass he hears you call out his name. He picks up the glasses and follows your pathway towards your bedroom door which is cracked open slightly.

You’re stood fully naked in front of the full length mirror on your wardrobe door, trying to undo the clasp on the back of your necklace.

Bob’s grip tightens on the two glasses as he tries not to allow them to tumble to the floor. His hard cock is pressing shamelessly against the front of his slacks now.

“Could you help me with my necklace?” You turn your head slightly to ask Bob.

He’s at a loss for words but nods dumbly, placing the two glasses on your dresser closest to the door. He takes the few short steps to close the distance between you and stands behind you cautiously. You look up at him from the mirror,

“You can touch me.” You smile comfortingly at him.

Bob releases a shaky breath and reaches to help hold your hair up. You can feel his warm breath on the back of your neck and it sends a shiver down your spine. The gold pendant which dangles between your breasts shakes slightly and Bob lets his gaze wander down towards them. You finally unclasp your necklace and Bob lets your hair down so you can step away and place the necklace on your jewellery plate.

“Thank you, baby.”

Bob let’s out a low moan. “Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

He reaches for your hand and drags it towards his hard cock. You both moan upon making contact and you palm him slightly over his trousers just enough to work him up. You reach up to connect your lips again as Bob’s hands find your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples making you arch up into his touch. Your hand leaves his crotch in favour of undoing the buttons on his dress shirt hurriedly. His hands join yours so he can finally shed himself of his shirt, suddenly feeling like he was on fire.

Once his shirt has been discarded on the floor, your able to run your hands all over his muscular chest. You whine against his lips as your hands dip lower, tracing his happy trail.

“Why have you been hiding this from me?”

Bob smirks against your lips and deepens the kiss further, licking into your mouth. His hands dip from your waist to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

“Can I?” He whispers.

“Fuck, please.”

Bob lifts you in his strong arms and plops you down onto your bed, you spread your legs as he crawls up to meet you. He lowers his head to the bed and stares at your pussy, glistening with arousal for him. It’s already started to coat the tops of your thighs. You shy slightly under his gaze and try to close your legs, he raises a strong hand to your thigh, stopping you.

“Baby, please do something.” You whine, high pitched.

Bob was never one to decline you and reaches his other hand forward. His middle finger slides between your slit, gathering your wetness. He bumps against your clit a few times before pulling his finger away to lick at the wetness now on his finger. You buck your hips up to where he’s looking down at you. He reaches his hand down again and parts your lips. He spits down onto your pussy, it hits your clit and rolls down to mix with your juices.

“Fucking christ.” He whimpers, “I need to fuck you.”

You moan loudly at his proclamation and sit up to help him rid himself of his trousers. You slip off of your bed as he sits up on the edge. Staring down at you with lust blown pupils as you pull the zipper down and begin to pull his trousers down as well. He lifts his hips and you’re able to tear them down the rest of the way pretty quickly since he discarded his shoes near the door along with yours. You’re now face to face with his cock straining against the fabric of his black boxers. The sight makes you lick your lips, maybe another day. You pull his boxers down the rest of the way as well and watch as his cock slaps against his abdomen. The tip is pink and there’s a few beads of precum threatening to fall down the side of him, there’s one large vein that runs across the bottom of it.

“Shit, you’re big.” You chuckle slightly looking up at him. Bob is pretty sure he’s in love with you.

Bob pulls you up by your hands and you land on his lap. You push at his chest and he gets the hint to lay back. His head hits your pillows and you reach forward to peck his lips, before grabbing his cock in you right hand and stroking it a few times. He whimpers against your lips making your giggle. You move your pussy towards his cock, guiding the tip between your folds, gathering wetness. You both moan out as he hits your clit.

“Stop teasing darlin’.” Bob groans as his tip moves over your clit again.

You groan breathlessly but agree, “Only for you handsome.”

With that, you begin to slowly sink down onto his length. Your arousal makes it an easy glide down, but he’s still thick. He struggles not to buck up into you until your finally fully seated. The dusting of hair above his dick hits your clit making your whimper shyly. Bob is 100% sure he’s dead and in heaven right now, and he praises himself for whatever good deed he did which allowed him to feel your velvety walls squeezing him at this very second.

You set a pace on top of him, moving up and down on him and swirling your hips as you go. Bob’s hands are groping at your ass as he bucks up into you, meeting your thrusts. Your bedroom is filled with your joint breathy moans and the sounds of skin slapping as your ride Bob. One of his hands snakes round from your ass to toy with your clit. It makes you jolt and whine out loudly.

“Fuck. Babe I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that.” You giggle down at Bob.

He smirks up at you, “That’s the whole point.” He punctuates his sentence with a thrust up into you. He’s been close since the moment you sank down onto him, but wants you to cum first. He rubs circles on your clit, he can feel you tightening around him the more he does. You quicken your pace, chasing your high.

“I’m close, please.” You moan out, rolling your hips down to meet another sharp thrust from Bob. He switches the way he’s circling your clit abruptly and looks up at you, begging,

“Cum for me please, gorgeous.”

You wail slightly on top of him as your peak hits, clenching down on him as you buck up erratically. Your pulsing pushes Bob over the edge and you can feel as he spurts his seed into you with a few jerks of his hips.

You slump down onto his chest as the white hot pleasure starts to fade away. You listen to his beating heart calm with a lazy smirk on your face. Bob is staring down at you with so much adoration in his eyes it’s hard to comprehend.

“You’re amazing, sweetheart.” He whispers.

You look up at him from where your chin is resting on his pec.

“That’s all you, handsome.”

Bob has never been so sure that you’re all he wants to see for the rest of his life.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: HWJDUEUWJW finally finished this and omfg,,, my fave thing i’ve written to date!!!

sorry that it’s kind of long but i promise it worth itttt

defo will be doing some more w these two bc they are adorbs

pls reblog, comment or send me an ask and tell me what you think !!!!

as always thank u for readingggg :)))

- honey <333

[guiltyasdave]

it’s the season

part of the space sisters secret santa 2023 - for @pascalispretty, merry christmas sophie! 🫶🏻

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: ~ 1.8k

summary: Joel had promised his daughters that they would bake Christmas cookies this weekend - which turns out to be more complicated than he had anticipated. Fortunately, their new neighbor next door can help.

tags: AU! no outbreak, Joel has both of his daughters, FLUFF, hints at reader’s sad backstory but nothing specific, mentions of alcohol consumption, able-bodied reader, I think that’s it? Let me know if I missed something <3

dividers by @/saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

full masterlist here

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs and turn on notifications for fic updates

shoutout to @reddedmiller for holding my hand while writing this and convincing me that it’s not trash, i love you bby <3

It’s Sunday, one week until Christmas, and Joel Miller is beginning to lose his mind.

His daughters had been bugging him about baking Christmas cookies with them for weeks, and he wants nothing more than to make them happy, but while Joel is many things, he’s certainly not a baker.

Work has been hectic lately, which apparently led to him forgetting to buy the ingredients that the girls swear up and down they had requested several times.

He’s had to sent Sarah to ask one of their neighbors to lend them something twice now and by the looks of it, he’s gonna have to do it a third time. She groans and insists to take Ellie with her this time, complaining about how this is “sooooo embarrassing, Dad!”

You furrow your brow when your doorbell rings for the third time in half an hour, a slightly disbelieving look on your face when you open the door and once again reveal the young girl from next door standing on your porch, this time accompanied by who you think is her younger sister.

You only moved into the house a month ago and don’t really know any of your neighbors, except for the elderly couple that lives a few houses over. They had introduced themselves hours after you moved in and have tried to invite you to come to Sunday church with them several times, an invitation that you consistently decline.

You know the girls though, you often see them through your windows, constantly pestering their father, who constantly fends them off in a kind of gruffy but clearly loving manner.

The girl who had introduced herself as “Sarah” when she first came by thirty minutes ago to ask for baking powder smiles at you apologetically.

“Hi… again. I’m so sorry, do you by any chance have cinnamon as well?”

You can't help but laugh this time. “What are you guys even doing over there? I think I do, why don’t you come in while I go check?” They nod and follow you into your kitchen where you start digging through your supply of baking ingredients.

“Our Dad said he’d bake Christmas cookies with us today, but he forgot to get the groceries for it,” the other girl explains. “I’m Ellie, by the way.” You smile and tell her your name, then hand over the cinnamon to them.

“That’s very sweet of your Dad,” you remark, “I’m sure he’s trying his best.”

Ellie’s eyes fly over your neatly organized collection of ingredients and baking utensils, then her face lights up with an idea.

“Hey! You look like you’re a good baker and our Dad is really struggling to be honest. Do you want to come over and join us?”

“Ellie,” Sarah argues, “you can’t just invite people like that, I’m sure she has plans already.”

You don’t, to be fair, but you’ve never spoken to their father before, who’s rather giving the impression that he likes to keep to himself.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude…” you begin, when Sarah looks around herself and notices that you don’t have any Christmas decorations up around your house.

“Or do you not celebrate Christmas?” she asks, “You obviously don’t have to come if that’s not…”

Your heart warms at how considerate the young girl is trying to be. “No I do, I just didn’t…” you trail off, not sure how to explain that it feels pointless putting up decorations just for yourself and that you don’t want the reminders that it will be the first Christmas in your life that you’ll be spending completely alone. You shake your head and plaster a smile on your face. You do like baking and maybe this will help getting you into the spirit.

“You know what? Okay, if it’s alright with your Dad, I’ll come over and see how I can help.”

Both girls beam at you and you follow them over to their house, where you find their Dad elbows deep in a mixing bowl with dough sticking to his fingers and swearing to himself under his breath. You feel awkward and definitely like an intruder but the girls’ mouths are going a mile a minute, explaining how you had soooo many baking supplies and that you had agreed to help them.

Their Dad introduces himself as “Joel” and you feel your cheeks heating when you notice how attractive he is up close. You had already thought that when you’ve seen him from afar, but now that you’re standing in his kitchen, it really hits you. Trying to snap out of it, you take a closer look at the dough that he’s fighting with.

“This needs more flour, then it’ll be less sticky,” you mutter, suddenly feeling a bit shy, and go to add it to the mix in his bowl. He huffs a “Thanks” and you smile, still fighting the heat in your cheeks but also feeling excitement buzz through you as your hand brushes against his when you pull back.

The girls kick back into action then, throwing several recipes at you that they want to try and you do your best to coordinate it all, running back to your place for ingredients several times, accompanied by an apologetic look from Joel every time, but you honestly don’t mind. His daughters are adorable and you’re having more fun than you’ve had in months.

Sarah turns on the radio and Christmas songs sound through the kitchen. With the music in your ear and the smell of freshly baked cookies in your nose, you feel at ease, comfortable.

When all the cookies are baked and thoroughly taste tested, the girls retreat to their rooms on the upper floor, leaving you and Joel alone in the kitchen. You find that you don’t want to leave, don’t want to go back to that big empty house where it’s just you, not now that you’ve basked in the warmth of this family home right next to yours all day. And just maybe, you want to spend more time with Joel.

“I have a bottle of pretty good red wine, shall I go and bring that? Half of my kitchen’s contents are here already” you joke and Joel laughs.

“I’m sorry about that, I’m usually better prepared, but work’s been crazy these weeks and the girls insisted on baking today, so…” He scratches his neck and you smile at him.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve had a great time today. Finally got me into the holiday spirit a bit, I kinda really needed that.”

You walk over and take the wine bottle back to his place where you sit down in the living room, the Christmas tree that has been mostly decorated by the girls shining in the corner and the several strings of fairy lights that Sarah has spread all over the room glowing around you.

You feel a warmth and comfort that you haven’t felt in a long time, but also a kind of envy for this feeling of family, of how clearly this man and the two girls belong together, how their house is basically imbued with love for each other. A feeling that you’re not sure you’ve ever had, but that you suddenly find yourself desperately longing for.

“So…” Joel begins, a faint expression of uncertainty on his face. “Is it just you over there, or…?” You understand what he’s asking and nod, a wry smile playing around your lips.

“Yeah, it’s- it’s a bit of a long story, really, but yes, it’s just me.” The understanding is clear on his face and he doesn’t push you, sensing that you don’t want to expand on the subject and you’re grateful.

You still talk about both of your pasts, where you grew up, where you went to school, learning that Joel lost his parents when he was young, only two years after he had Sarah, how it had been just the both of them in the beginning, with the addition of his younger brother whom he speaks of with the loving kind of exasperation that only an older sibling can muster up, and how he adopted Ellie a few years later.

You finish the bottle quicker than you would like to, and when Joel walks you home and you’re both stood in front of your door, you’re drunk on more than the red wine, a happiness in your veins that warms you from within.

Joel clears his throat, his eyes trained on your face.

“Listen, I don’t want ya to feel pressured or nothin’, but would you want to come over for Christmas Eve? ‘S just me an’ the girls, nothin’ fancy, just-“ he shrugs, his hands buried in his pockets, “don’t like the thought of you alone in this house on Christmas.”

It might be embarrassing how quickly you say “yes”, but you can’t bring yourself to feel that way. A smile stretches across Joel’s face as he tells you “good night” and kisses your cheek before you step into your house and watch him walk back to his.

Christmas at the Miller household is one of the best evenings that you’ve ever had. Sarah and Ellie have gone all out on the decorations now that they have a guest, leaving twinkling lights, glitter and ornaments in every corner and on every surface, Joel makes a surprisingly good dinner, you’re playing board games with the girls that dissolve into fights between them most of the time, everyone is talking over each other and you’re all eating chocolate until you’re sick with the sugar high.

Late in the evening, with both of the girls softly snoring on the couch, tangled up in each other like two overly large kittens, Joel and you are sharing another bottle of wine. You feel so full of happiness that you feel like you might burst, a smile on your face that feels like it’s never gonna leave again.

When it’s time for you to go home, Joel stands with you and walks with you to his front door. “Thank you again, for inviting me,” you smile at him, “this was probably the best Christmas Eve that I’ve ever had.”

He nods, his gaze dancing between your eyes and your lips.

“Merry Christmas,” you murmur, butterflies erupting in your stomach. He leans in and you hesitantly do the same. Before you can overthink it, you cradle his face in your hands and pull him towards you, your lips meeting in a soft kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers against your lips.

i hope you liked this!!! merry christmas and happy holidays 🫶🏻

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

@twilighttowayvision wanted a possessive and protective Vess, so here we are ladies and gentlemen. My offering.

Snogging inner demons

Vess is a quiet kind of possessive. He doesn’t use nor need to use his voice to get the point around. Even if he’s just like the rest of the boys and prefers to keep the circle of people aware of his personal life to the minimum, he has ways of making sure that everyone is more than aware that you are off the market.

His protectiveness stems from the shared fact that now that he had let you in. Let you see the darkest, loneliest, still aching parts of him. Now that you have chosen to love him with all of the broken parts, he doesn’t want you to go. Can’t imagine a world where you aren’t the one he gets to wake up to or one he gets to turn to when his head gets so loud it’s driving him mad.

So Vess doesn’t feel a pang of jealousy when his eyes fall on you. A backstage pass around your neck as you beam at everyone with the same enthusiasm as you always do. Even if sharing your light with others makes him feel a tad annoyed at times. Vess would never forget how you two had dragged yourselves out of your apartment close to 9 pm to go to the store for snacks and well… protection. Cause wrap it before you tap it, kids. And he stood there, condoms behind his back while you nodded at the story the elderly lady, who had just scanned your porches, talked about her grandson’s birthday party that was coming up. Your full attention on her as she ran through the list of possible gifts and how she didn’t understand kids these days.

So Vess takes his time, finishing the conversation he was having with the band’s manager before he walks right up to you. He doesn’t say anything as he stands behind you. One of his hands slithering up your hip as he pulls you back into him. The story one of the guys was telling dies down and from the way all of them are looking up, you know that Vess, even with his mask on, can send a pretty clear message. And no one even has a second thought about it. They wrap it up almost immediately, as you manage to spear them one more smile before they hurry away.

“You give me Dracula vibes at times”, you snicker, turning to face your lover, “Or even better, you remember the way Professor Snape flows into the classroom?”, another giggle slips past your lips and you can see the corner of Vessel’s lips curving upwards. “But did you see any windows closing? Or candles that stopped burning?”, he tilts his head to the side. “We don’t have these here so not a fair comparison”, you let your hands fall to his bare chest, carefully of the pain that’s still drying there.

“Sometimes I want to lock you up so you would only shine on me”, Vess carefully brushes a strand of hair away from your face. “Bad idea, III might just cry for the rest of his life”, you shake your head and this is enough to make Vess let out a low chuckle. “True, the boys love you”, he looks over your shoulder for a moment, before lacing his fingers through yours, “Come”, he mutters before pulling you towards a more secluded corner.

“You have a show in thirty minutes, Vess”, you warn him, not sure where his mind is going. “Plenty of time for what I want”, he mutters, pushing you in front of him, your body fully hidden by his frame. His lean fingers caress the side of your face before he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. The light and gentle pecks make you almost frown because this was not what you were thinking he had dragged you away for. But then his hand is on your neck as he turns your face to the side, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down to your shoulder. “Vess”, you hiss, yet your hands still pull him in by his hips. Soft touches turn into more intentional nibbling and soon you are more than aware as to what he’s doing. As he bites and bruises your neck. “Not a possessive boyfriend my ass”, you huff and it’s enough to make him halt, pulling a laugh that you can feel against your skin. He raises back up, fixing his mask, “Felt like marking the territory tonight”, he says so casually that you can’t help but hit his chest playfully. “Was this necessary? Here, with all the people?”, you point to your neck, which you sure is nice and purple now. Vess brushing his finger over your lips, “You got black paint on your face”, he smirks, “Everyone can already tell that you’ve been misbehaving”. You roll your eyes, “You are in trouble”, pointing a finger you, put the front camera on, whipping your face. Vess scowls, pushing your hand away, “Don’t wipe away my kisses”, you crock your head to the side, “Well, don’t kiss me like a manic then. It looks like I snogged my inner demon”, “Well, maybe you did”, he leans in pressing his lips to yours one more, this time in a way gentler way, “Here, no evidence”, smirking to himself he reaches for your hand once more, stepping back into the hustle of the pre-show.

[sugusearrings]

( ' glass children. ' )

violet wrists and then her ankles, silent pain. then he slowly saw their nightmares were his dreams. monster, how should I feel? creatures lie here, looking through the windows i will hear their voices. i'm a glass child, i am hannah's regrets.

— summary: with the star plasma vessel dead, satoru and suguru need you (fem!reader) to lead them to their next path. — genre: angst. heartbreak. — playing: monster by meg & dia — note(s): i'm a sucker for what ifs. i love what ifs. good and bad. i thought about this what if a lot. i wanted to write about this since halloween and didn't have time to post it. i just know suguru and satoru are better than me cause everyone would have gotten this smoke. that's all imma say. anyways, mentions of blood & death. probably some spelling errors here and there. — word count: 866

Those beautiful cerulean blue hues still sparkled as the light down on them.

But the spark of life was gone. They were dull. Lifeless. Emotionless. You never saw them like this before.

You could feel the anxiety swallowing you whole. If someone looked closely, they can see your legs trembling slightly. The two boys in front of you were having a brief conversation but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t hear anything over the loud sounds of your heart rate picking up at a rapid pace. You couldn’t even hear the round of applause the strangers that crowded around the white hair teenager who held the lifeless body like he did the first time meeting her.

They were clapping for Satoru. Fucking clapping.

You just stared at the crowd in disbelief. What kind of people would approve of this? What kind of people are happy over this? The death of a young girl.

A young girl you considered your friend.

Monsters...monsters... “Suguru...should we kill these guys? The way I am right now I doubt I’d feel anything.” His voice was hoarse. But what made your heart ache was hearing no emotion in his tone. It matched his stare. Dull. Lifeless. Emotionless. Your eyes went over to Suguru. His back was faced to Satoru but you saw his almond shaped eyes were as wide as they can be but soon he pulled himself back together. He always does. He has too. “No. There’s no point. It’ll be dissolved soon enough.” His voice mimic the tone Satoru set. He began to walk towards the door to get out of there. He was sick of the clapping and the smell of the dried blood that lingeried. He was sick of this. He was sick of this life. He was sick of death. He was sick of curses. “No point, huh? Does there really need to be any point to it?” Satoru asked or stated. You couldn’t really tell. You went to follow behind Suguru like a lost puppy but Satoru called out your name.

“Name...”

"Y-yes...Satoru?" your gentle voice trembled.

"What do you think we should do?" Satoru asked you. His eyes didn’t look at you. They just looked straight ahead into nothing. Suguru's eyes went over to you almost forgetting you were even there. Your eyes was puffy and red from crying. You were the emotional one out of the three. That's why Satoru would tease you about being weak. You were a crybaby. But Suguru didn't see an issue with it, he likes you like this. So did Satoru but he wouldn't openly admit it. You reminded him about those certain emotions he swore he couldn’t feel anymore. "Name...what should we do?" Suguru also asked willing to do anything you said. The self proclaimed brains of this trio couldn’t think straight or logically. So it was up to you.

The boys looked over at you for an answer. An answer you didn't have. This wasn't fair. These higher ups using you children. Not caring if you killed one another or died in front of each other. You loved your best friends. Especially Satoru and Suguru, willing to do anything to protect them. Even Riko. They were the only family you have. But would the higher ups mourn you? Would the higher ups sink into a dark hole of depression? Would the higher ups get revenge on you? Or would they replace you like a piece of livestock. They would probably replace you in a matter of days.

They probably would assign Satoru and Suguru a mission while your ashes are still warm.

Satoru and Suguru.

The thought of leaving them behind made you feel sick at the pit of your stomach. How would Satoru handle it? You knew Suguru would break in a matter of days. He bottles so much inside of him it would just burst out. Would they keep it together if you were to die? Or would they lose it themselves.

You know you would lose it if either of them or both of them were to die. Leaving you all alone. To defend yourself. To love yourself. You couldn’t imagine a world without them. The three of you were glued to each other, couldn’t really function without the other.

You could feel the anger replacing the fear and anxiety. On the inside your morals and humanity was being teared apart, stripped away from you the more you stared at Riko's lifeless body in Satoru's arms covered by a thin white cloth. "Name..." Suguru called out to you once more. There wasn’t much time to make a decision. "Kill them," you finally answered losing all emotions you had that day, "kill them all." That's all Satoru needed to hear. His lips formed a wicked grin as Suguru silently summoned the rainbow dragon. You stood watched the blood being splattered on the walls and floors. The screams made you smile like that day on the beach with your best friends.

That’s where your mind was. The day on the beach with Riko and Satoru laughing at the sea cucumber while you, Suguru, and Misato were on the beach towels just watching them with smile of your faces.

[hyuckswoman]

« yoo, how are you? » mark asks waiting by your desk as you collect your stuff 

« when did you even get there??? also we’ve been texting the whole time you know how i am » 

« my class ended a bit early so i waited by the door and when people were leaving i thought i’d just come in, also it’s called courtesy the whole asking how you’re doing, so stop complaining this is me being nice » mark says as you both head out of the class 

« righhtttt my bad sir , where are we going by the way? I don’t have classes for the rest of the day so I’m free if you want to hang out » you say 

« I told you to stop flirting with me, you’re getting desperate and it shows » mark jokes as you slightly punch his arm 

« we could grab lunch if you want to? also i don’t know where your friend is, i don’t think i saw him in your classroom but we can wait for him if you’d like » mark says looking around for hanbin you presume 

« Bin went to a party last night, he sent me a text this morning he’s wasted and hungover and basically skipped class so we don’t have to wait for him this time, also i wouldn’t act like I’m the one that likes you too much given how you practically begged me not to leave the music group » you said trying to get back at him. It was kinda annoying how he shrugged and told you that you were right without fighting back tho. 

« where the fuck are you taking me? this looks too expensive i don’t have that kind of money » you say as you guys near mark’s recommendation. you make a mental note to never trust the guy ever again when he tells you he knows a place

«  don’t worry, i got the bill » he says

« man, you’re as broke as I am don’t even pretend with this gentleman shit » you say laughing 

« dude you could’ve at least pretended for my ego, you suck. also it might look super fancy but it’s affordable don’t worry, not that i’d let you pay for your meal tho, i might be broke but I still know how to treat a lady thank you » he says holding the door of the establishment open for you 

«  I will wrestle you to the cash register don’t even play with me marcus lee » you say trailing behind him as he chuckles. you wonder if he’s making fun of your threat or if he’s laughing because of the nickname (the answer is both)

you were halfway through your meal when mark started to speak again 

« man.. isn’t it kinda crazy? » he says looking at you 

« what is? » you answer genuinely confused.. did this man think you’re sherlock holmes or something?? how would you know what he’s even talking about 

«  it’s kinda crazy how you, my diehard fan managed to be in the same music group as me. you hide your game pretty well though, sometimes i forget that you’re the president of my fan club » he says, you could see him holding back his laugh so hard. crazy how this man was openly making fun of you like that 

«  what happened to ‘let’s not talk about this ever again’? also, considering how you’ve been hyping me up these past few weeks i’d say that the roles have reversed and you’re my die hard fan now, you even said so yesterday » you reply 

« i never said any of that you are mistaking me for another man on your roster » mark answers

« let’s not lie like that we both remember the messages… and stop slut shaming me we are in public. and considering the amount of girls that want you i’d say you’re more likely to be the slut » you says hoping that’ll shut him up 

« ooo are you jealous that everybody wants me?? » he says. the answer is yes but you’ll never tell him that of course. 

« stop being so cocky before i slap that smirk off your face » you reply lowkey glaring at him

«  you didn’t deny it though » he says cockily. this man was aggravating you 

« god you’re becoming worse than hyuck. actually nevermind you are worse than hyuck constantly asking me for validation and compliments » you say smiling

« ouchhh okay i get it my bad, i’ll stop asking for validation and compliments the minute I’m 100% sure that I’m your favorite. also i don’t think it’s fair how donghyuck and jisung get to have cute nicknames while you call me marcus » he says kinda sulking 

« oh sorry my bad dork lee » you say laughing while he just gives you the middle finger « also i call you markie so you do have a cute nickname stop complaining and eat your food » you say as he just goes like « oooooh, that’s right » remembering the nickname you gave him. 

as you guys were finishing the meal you excused yourself to go to the toilet (little did he know you were actually paying the bill like the gentleman you are)

as you come back to the table you see mark trying to grab the waiter attention 

« what are you doing? stop doing that you’re giving me the ick » you say sitting back down 

« man fuck you, it’s not my fault nobody sees me i just want to pay the bill. and don’t fight me on this please » he says continuing his gesture to grab the staff’s attention 

« mark i paid the bill already that’s why no one is coming please stop » you say grabbing his hand to put it down 

« WHAT???!!!! » he replies 

« man… i can’t believe you paid the bill. next time’s one me tho » he says holding the door open for you to get out 

« is this an attempt to ask me out on a date? » you ask. yea that’s right. uno reverse bitch 

« sorry i don’t date fans » he replies. ooooooooh this man is 100% aggravating 

« by the way I texted you earlier to give you something but I’m really fucking nervous so I’ve been delaying it this whole time, but no more delaying shit I’ve got this I think. Also if you think it’s weird thennn pretend i never gave you shit ok? » he says sorta hyping himself up in the middle before opening his palm revealing a black guitar keychain 

you burst out laughing 

« I think this is worse than if you would’ve told me that you hated it. I’m literally contemplating suicide right now don’t even play with me » he says as you laugh even harder because his antics were really making it worse 

A few seconds later and in between giggles you decide to speak « no.. wait, i swear I’m not making fun of you, I swear I find this unbelievably sweet, you’ll understand why I’m laughing just give me a second » you say reaching into your bag pulling out a spiderman lego keychain you grabbed from the same store earlier to give to him as a present 

« this is for you, i bought it earlier because it reminded me of you, since you said you liked spiderman and since your twitter header is a lego character » you say finding it amusing how you both got each other a keychain

« dudeeee you need to stop doing this to me I’ll cry i love it so much, also look i got myself a guitar keychain to match yours » he says showing you the other keychain 

« i also got a keychain to match the one i got you hold on » you say showing yours 

« it’s crazy how we thought of the same thing tho, we’re like… spiritually connected » he says as the both of you start walking to head back to your apartment because even though you’ve been making fun of him for his gentleman antics, deep down (you didn’t even have to look hard to see it) mark was a good guy and no matter the time of day, he’s going to walk you back home.

you wonder if it’s because you like him but you know that if he keeps on acting the way he’s acting, this whole crush was going to be even worse than it is…

39. double matching

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notes: ended this on sort of a cliffhanger lolll, also this is not proofread at all sooooo idk probably a bunch of mistakes i just cba

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