#and gives me an excuse to make little scribbles of the guys!!

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Actually, I'm obsessed with Postmaster Cassie now. I made a post in my drafts over the course of several hours going insane over it so I have a lot more to say about it for sure lmao

Once I get some food, it's gonna be Cassie Hours! Let's talk Cassie cause I love her and we don't talk about her enough! Hit me with your headcanons for her we are building her character tonight!

[rainrot4me]

Clean Knife, Bloody Blade

Summary: When you refuse to get out of bed due to terrible cramps, Jeff tries his best to coax you back. But when you cry and whine to him, the killer presses to resolve your problem, willing to do whatever he can to help…

Characters: Jeff the Killer x Menstruating Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Menstruation, period sex, vaginal with a dildo, toy play, vaginal, mentions of organs, blood, desperation, blood kink, teasing

Words: 3.2k

Jeff was terrible at showing affection.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you, you knew he did, but to others, they could’ve never guessed. He was always upset, always brooding about something minuscule that would give him an excuse to snap and shrug others off. He was terrible company. But with you, even though subtle, he was calmer and had his head more on his shoulders than normal if you were around.

A calloused hand grasped around your wrist or a half-assed peck on the cheek indicated his affection. To anyone else, it would’ve looked like he was annoyed or had no desire to love you at all, but you knew that this was him trying his hardest to show his feelings. Even though the lack of cuddles and soft compliments itched at you sometimes, Jeff more than made up for it with the bloody carcass of some guy who catcalled you lying on your doorstep or the new pistol he had swiped for you on a mission. Jeff loved you in his own way, and you were more than grateful that he even tried at all, despite what others said.

Jeff always tried his hardest for you, tried more than he cared to for anyone else. And that stood true even now, as you laid in the bed squirming your pain and groaning into his pillows. Jeff was practically clueless. He knew what was happening and that it was nature, but it didn’t make it more comfortable to fuss with you over how dramatic you were being. Or to watch you sob and moan about some blood. Jeff dealt with blood every day, he just didn’t get the theatrics.

Until you began to cry, gripping your stomach as you wore his hoodie and sobbed into his pillow, whining your little heart out. The pale killer was stunned, awkward even as he tried to console you, trying to brush the tears from your eyes. “Just go get Jack. Tell ‘em to get me something.” You whined, rolling over and tugging the covers higher onto your shoulder. 

Jeff cringed, scurrying out of his room and down the hall, shooting for EJ’s lab in the hopes that he would have a better chance at getting you to stop than he could. Normally, Jeff would’ve been annoyed, pissed that you preferred to see some other guy than him, but right now he just wanted you better.

-

“And what does she want me to do about it?” Jack groaned, shuffling through some forceps and scalpels to neatly cut open the human stomach he was working on, trying to push the leftovers of the victim’s last meal out before nibbling on a strip of the raw meat. Jeff cringed, groaning at the way it popped as it tore, squishy in the demon’s mouth. “I don’t fuckin’ know? Just figured you’d be better at this than me. All medical and shit…” The killer scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, chewing at the tear on his lip. He hated compliments, hated trying to butter someone up, but he sucked it up. 

Jack chuckled, pulling his mask back down over his chin before moving, shuffling through a cabinet nestled above his messy desk. There were all sorts of pills inside, little orange and green translucent bottles that read ‘Wright’ and scribbled doctor’s signatures. How someone was giving Jack all of this medicine Jeff didn’t care to ask, he only noticed when Jack pulled down some painkiller in a white bottle, little pink tablets falling out. 

“Ibuprofen. Give ‘er like three. Maybe some food too, bad to cramp on an empty stomach.” The commands were giving Jeff whiplash, shoving the bottle into his pocket and staring as Jack circled back to his unfinished plate. “If that doesn’t work, try telling her to masturbate.” 

Jeff almost ran into the wall on his way out. What in the actual hell? Jeff tried to laugh as he turned, thinking Jack was joking but his expression was unwavering, gnawing on the tendon of a stomach valve as he smiled. Jeff couldn’t even be mad, stunned more than anything as he let his face show his confusion, letting his mouth hang open. “It’s true. Lulu told me one time. Helps with muscle tension or something. I read up on it a bit but wasn’t relevant to me, so I didn’t care. Guess it’s useful now.” Jack smiled, turning back to his plate and shooing Jeff out, shutting the door behind him as Jeff’s eyes remained wide and stunned, finally clenching his teeth and stomping up the stairs. 

You took the pills easily, letting Jeff convince you to eat a muffin before laying back down, groaning as you gripped his arm, legs curled into yourself. He stared down at you, awkwardly gnawing away at the thought Jack had set in his head. Masturbating? While you were bleeding? There was no way that could be enjoyable. But as you nudged your head against his side, wrapping your arms around his waist and pawing at this shirt, Jeff groaned, rubbing your back. 

Normally you were a little live wire, a little ball of energy that combatted his anger perfectly. You were perfect for him, emotionally and physically. But seeing that little ball of excitement cripple and falter under your pain made him upset, angered that he couldn’t do anything more. He hated seeing you like this, no matter how reluctant he would be to admit it. Jeff wasn’t a sappy guy, far from it, but right now he would do anything to make his girl feel better.

He started slow, nervous that you’d be too overstimulated to even want him to touch you as he rolled you onto your back, pressing down to kiss along your cheeks. You lay confused, squirming as his hands rubbed your sides, gently gripping and soothing your hot skin. “Jeff… Quit…” You groaned as he pecked your lips, tucking your hair behind your ears as he tugged his hoodie over your head. “Chill out.” He nipped, pressing his rough lips against your soft ones and purposefully holding yours down, calming your reluctant body as he rubbed at your stomach, kissing against your jaw. Your skin was hot, clammy against his hands as he pushed your shirt up, you finally realizing what he was doing.

“Jeff.” You grit, shoving him off as you sat up, irritated that he would even try right now. Jeff awkwardly tried to explain, rubbing your arms as he settled you back onto the bed, standing up to grab a towel in his closet. “Listen. Jack gave me some advice or somethin’. Said jerking off helps with your cramps. We don’t gotta, but…” Jeff also reached for the small bag you kept in his closet, tugging it open and tugging out a dildo around his size, awkwardly shoving the bag back into the closet as you watched, cheeks already flushing. “Jeff, it's nasty.” You warned, bringing your knees to your chest and sliding back as Jeff stood at the edge of the bed, lying the items down before continuing to kiss along your face. “Baby, I cut people up. I think I’ll be okay.” He snickered, lying you back down onto his bed.

You nervously laid, squirming your legs together as Jeff pressed between your knees, standing at the end of the bed. He tugged up your hips, sliding the towel underneath you as he pressed his cool hands along your arms, trailing them up into your shirt as he nipped into your neck. You sighed, skin hot and cunt already bothered as you tried to pry your knees tight around his waist. This was going to be weird regardless, your anxiety about the whole thing shining through as Jeff tugged your shirt over your head, palming at your boobs until you were tugging his hands away. “Sensitive.” You hissed, letting his hands fall back at your hips.

He grit, tugging your shorts down and smiling as you shyly closed in on yourself, turning your face into the sheets as he hooked them off of your ankles. He could already see the blood stained onto your panties, your pad doing little against it. Personally, you wanted to die, embarrassment hooking your every whine as Jeff hooked under your panties, tugging them down and gently massaging your thighs, letting you calm down. It was messy, sure, but the killer knew what he was getting himself into. 

You refused to look at him, knees hugged tightly to his sides as he cleaned the blood staining your folds gently as your pelvis ached, cunt tingling under you as Jeff leaned in to kiss your lips, reassuring you coldly. “You’re fine. Stop movin’ so much. It’s just blood.” This was as close as he was getting to gentle, but his words soothed you all the same. You still hid in the sheets, letting Jeff clean your inner thighs as he massaged along your leg, efforts reluctant as you just leaked more. 

The sight of your cunt covered in blood didn’t particularly turn Jeff on, but it didn’t disgust him either. It was just you, that stupid personality and all-too-caring attitude that he loved, he didn’t really care what you looked like in turn. He didn’t really mind what was going on between your legs, just as long as he was one of them. 

“Open up. There ya go.” He chimed, reaching for the dildo and pressing it to your mouth, beckoning you to listen. You obliged, spreading your lips around the girth and licking along the underside, soaking the silicone in your saliva. Jeff didn’t force it, didn’t push it to make you gag like he loved to do, just let it soak. He smiled at you, nudging his thumb between your folds and pressing against your clit, letting you groan against the toy as he felt your knees loosen around his hips. You had never done anything on your period, always so grossed out and irritated to try, but you could already just feel the difference. It was so much more intense, clit so sensitive under the pad of his thumb that you were holding your eyes shut, hips falling and rising against the movement of the digit. It was heavenly, and Jeff noticed, smiling as you practically ground yourself up against him. “Feel good?” He teased, tugging the dildo out of your mouth and sliding it against your stomach, saliva wiping against your warm skin. You nodded, sighing as he pressed up, hips catching and stuttering against it. 

Jeff slid the dildo against your folds, blood catching on the tip and spreading against your inner thighs. He smiled, enjoying how easy it was to push his knee under your thigh and open you up more, movements too lost in the feeling of the dildo halted against your entrance. Jeff held his thumb still, letting the dildo that was a little smaller than his own size begin to push into your aching cunt, cramps pushing out of the way and slowly fading into pleasure as the toy pressed into you. You groaned, a desperate ache of pain and pleasure soaking in as the dildo snugged your walls, pressing against your sensitivity. It just felt so good, entrance aching around the size but the thumb swiping against your clit made up for it. 

When Jeff’s fingers gripped around the base of the dildo and touched your folds, you knew it was bottomed out, cunt clenching tight around the intrusion. “Took it good, yeah? Basically pulled it in.” Jeff laughed, tugging the dildo out before slowly rocking it back in, angling the silicone up so it pressed just right against your swollen walls. You whined, back instantly pushing off of the mattress and arching into the feeling, the slowness tearing you apart. “Oh, God-” You groaned, tugging the sheets hard as Jeff fucked you painfully slow with the toy, watching close at how your body moved with it, hips rolling at every push of his hand. He had found a new kink just now, unfortunately. 

The killer continued to fuck you with the dildo, contorting and tugging the length so it stretched you nicely, thumb effortlessly making you flinch and squirm as he watched blood slowly leak from your tight entrance, pooling beneath you. It was satisfying, really, the further he pushed the toy the more blood spilled. In Jeff’s sicko brain, it reminded him of stabbing someone, digging his knife in and watching the blood just run, smiling at the irony of it all. He pushed harder.

You were loud now, tears running down your cheeks as you gasped at every shove of the dildo, sensitivity riding on every ounce of pleasure that overwhelmed your senses. Jeff was lost, busy watching your cunt and your screwed-up face, and couldn’t hear your silent sobs to stop or slow down, him only pushing harder. “Jeff- God- Wait, I’m… I think- Ah-” You mewled, letting your cunt squeeze down hard against the toy, walls aching as you came, body squirming and writhing as Jeff still bobbed it in and out as your cunt gushed. It took you sitting up, palming at his shoulders before he would stop, barely even realizing you had came until you were sobbing into his shoulder, dildo slipping out of your soppy cunt as you palmed at his jeans, his boner beckoning you. “Not… not enough. Need it.” You whined, words so jumbled and head so light Jeff thought you were losing it, eyes going wide as he realized what you meant. You still ached, still coming down from your orgasm but walls needing more, needing that relief from the pain again.

“Shit- Ah- Okay. Shit.” Jeff jumbled, stuttering as you eventually tugged his cock out of his jeans and began to stroke, leaning back and tugging him closer. He barely even had time, barely could get hard before you were holding his hips and begging him to push in, blood and your own arousal seeping around the tip of his cock nestled between your folds. “Okay, yeah. Shit-” He couldn’t even think to get a condom, couldn’t tell himself you were probably too post-nut high to realize you were too overwhelmed, but with those big eyes staring at him and your flushed cheeks pouting, he couldn’t help but groan his arousal as he pressed in. 

It was warm. Like, warmer than normal, warm. And you were tight too. Your walls fluttered around his cock, swelling against the length that curved and nudged deeper than the dildo, head falling back into the mattress as you moaned out. Jeff cursed, fists gripping your hips tight as he sunk in, watching the blood pool around his cock and seep down onto the towel, your entrance twitching and tightening with every inch that entered. “Needy, huh? You’re so tight, God-” He grunted, straining as he bottomed out and let your hips squirm against his, already beckoning him to move. It was like you were in heat, body more focused on how fast you could cum again than if you even wanted to. It turned Jeff on terribly bad. This version of you was exciting.

Like the dildo, he let his hips rock, bending his knees to angle into your cunt better and sink against your g-spot so nicely, leaving your arms clasped into his hair and dragging him down on top of you. Your skin was so hot, flushed deep as he locked his lips onto yours, rocking his hips into your soppy cunt and relishing in the way it gushed around him. He pushed up, digging his knees into the mattress and letting your thighs wrap around his back, his cock sinking further down and into you as your body contorted under him. You were scrunched, clasping onto his body desperately as you chased another orgasm, stomach fluttering and hips rocking with every movement. “So good- Can’t… Can’t hold on- Faster-” You huffed between slobber-filled kisses, letting Jeff dig his palms into the sheets underneath you and push his knees in deeper, letting his hips pull up much further and sink down just as deep. You were practically purring, mouth hanging open as Jeff bit into your jaw, nibbling the skin as he panted against you, shoving his cock into the hot glove of your cunt. 

“Beg me to fuck you and you’re still not satisfied. Jesus, woman.” Jeffrey grit through pants, leaning back off of you and digging his hands into your waist, tugging his legs further apart to open yours more before snapping his hips into your warmth, hearing the loud squelch and squirts as you writhed, moaning into your hands. Jeff smiled, clawing his hands to your tits and palming hard, letting you scratch and whine at his grasp about sensitivity and to let off, but he refused. You were so sensitive, so overwhelmed that the ache in your pelvis practically vanished, pleasure rippling through your body as you arched and squirmed against the cock quickly pressing down against every inch of your gummy walls. You were cumming again, sobbing as you scratched Jeff’s muscled arms and held on tight, letting his cock fuck you through your desperate orgasm and fight against the overstimulation that crept through your body. 

“There ya go, just like that. Don’t even gotta worry.” Jeff mewled, letting his cock sink deep and rest in your cunt, your walls clenching hard around him, fluttering as he twitched and ached inside of you, restraining to cum until your sobs quieted, little whines and gasp all that was left. “Did so good.” He grits as he tugged his cock out, the length soaked and stained in your blood and arousal, fist quick to grasp around and pump himself over you, watching as you panted with heavy eyes. The blood stained his hand, smearing as he came against your folds, letting his seed run and mix with your blood as he groaned, palming at your thighs. “Fuck.. yeah…” He smiled, rubbing his tip against your clit for good measure before tugging back, scooping the messy towel out and cleaning what he could. 

You were too sleepy to hear the bath run in the room over, body still twitching and relaxing as your cramps stayed at a dull roar now, pleasure overtaking them. Jeff scooped you up, his body bare now as he stripped the rest of your clothes, cutting the faucet off before sliding you both into the large tub, letting your back rest against his chest. You mewled, leaning back against his shoulder and letting your eyes flutter shut, rubbing the arms that wrapped around your waist. “Thank you.” You sighed, the hot water soothing your body nicely. “It was hot, so worth it.” Jeff chuckled, tucking your hair out of the way as he kissed your forehead. 

You knew he cared. He had strange ways of showing it, ever reluctant to become soft and vulnerable. But you relished the moments where he got close, like now. Maybe Jeff wasn’t the most affectionate, sappy guy to have, but it was more than enough for you. 

Even if he was terrible at showing affection, the dedication to you more than paid its part. 

This was a request by @bubbleduckie!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[rinnstars]

all sides of you!

the five love languages rin shows to you

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, hcs/drabble, not proofread, likes n reblogs are appreciated <3

words of affirmation

- at the beginning, i think hes a lot more averse to saying romantic stuff so its more of in a long term/after months of dating

- mainly leaves sticky notes/passes notes during class/at home with what he wants to say ar rhe beginning

- after a while tho, he’ll try to at least praise you/compliment you irl then slowly tell you he loves you (altho rarely at the beginning)

- has a bunch of scribbled notes he never passed to you all filled with confessions/ things he wants to say that he eventually says at the back of his closet in a box (because he thinks its sentimental)

- a lot better at expressing his feelings and can say them without freaking out internally or stuttering before giving up and calling you a mean nickname to neutralise the compliment

- believes in a speak not tell but he knows communication is key so he’ll try his best so bear with him

- slowburn moment for this but its 100% worth it when he comes home from competition and all he can say is repeatedly whisper i love u into your ear as he pulls you closer into his embrace

physical touch

- again, at first hes a bit touch averse / awkward with hugs/kisses but after a while of dating..

- 100% super clingy esp after coming back from competition/bllk : his hands have to be somewhere on your skin, doesnt matter where hes not picky

- has to sleep with you, hugging you like youre his plushie (drools a little too btw)

- links pinky when you guys walk together doeznt matter where “you’ll get lost” excuse except his entire face goes pink at the touch of your hands

- really likes kissing your neck, he thinks its rlly cute when he can hear you & esp if it leaves a mark :p

- has piggy-backed you before even when youre not lying about your shoes hurting or being tired to be carried by him

- enjoys being babied ngl like he loves it sm when you pepper his face with kisses while he just lies there or when you comb his hair with your fingers: he feels like hes in heaven esp after stressful days

quality time

- tries to see you everyday : either through school/going to yours/his house, dates, or even facetime call

- calls you every night when hes overseas btw and during breaks he’ll try to text you back n reply to your messages

- the type to make up excuses just to hang out with you like “oh i need to get new shoes, come with me” even though he has 2038839 different pairs and then have to huy another one because he cant be caught (you can tell)

- wld go on “study” dates where he just stares at you 3/4 of rhe time and actually doesnt finish any of his “assignments”

- has gone on hangouts where both of you just chill in silence n rlly likes it because theres no pressure to do anything and its kind of calming/relaxing esp after having to deal with teammates n whatnot during work

- wld watch you play games/do anything while he sits beside you, just enjoying your company even if he craves a little more but thats alright by him

acts of service

- lowkey such an act of service guy like even pre-relationship even if he makes excuses for him bc hes trying to be #idgaf

- the type to rush to your home with meds/food/everything if you text him youre sick after missing school

- i feel like. he just kind of enjoys the peacefulness of like cleaning and would do it whenever hes stressed (ignoring the loud music he listens to)

- would bring your necessities sometimes, and ends up at some point lending a hairtie to reo (he has a pack of hair ties bought for you at all times)

- anytime he goes out to get food/on the way home, he’ll always get a portion of what youd like just in case, and doeznt mind just eating it as leftover if you dont want it

- has a notepad on his phone on your favourite orders (drinks, meals, desserts etc)

- if youre forgetful, he’ll text you to remind you : whether that be to attend events/eat lunch at proper times/buy something

- would go back to the store if he didn’t buy what you wanted/if you wanted something else without any hesitation as long as it makes you smile even if he doesn’t admit it

- would learn how to take pictures for you on his own accord : you didn’t even realise until one day you pass him your digicam and suddenly he was an expert photographer compared to just months ago when. you started dating where his hand was blocking the camera

giving gifts

- has a matching necklace with you at all times and its his lucky charm and he’ll 100% kiss it before a game / when he wins the game

- shared wishlist on online stores except he stalks through yours and buys them for you randomly to surprise you

- if you have something spoiled/doesnt work as well, doesnt matter if its a home appliance/jeans that don’t fit etc, he’ll buy one for you without any hesitation when he goes out/on his phone

- gets you trinkets/keychains/stuff that reminds him of you including any sanrio/anime/designs you like / even your favourite food ie. chocolates/candies/chips from different countries he goes to for matches

- would notice if you wore his gifts or not and try to buy more things that you like more ie. if you like silver accessories more, he’ll buy more of those

- even during school days, he would 100% blow his money on arcades if you like to play claw machine/those rhythms games and watch you play and sometimes if you don’t get it, he’ll try to get them after his football training for you and pass it to you as nonchalantly as you can the next day

- always buys matching things: that bracelet he bought you? yup he has an exact pair in his drawers, feels its more meaningful and intimate

- if you ever ask for anything, just know he’s willing to give you that and the whole world and even the whole galaxy

-

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Accidentally Bring Up an Insecurity| Jisung

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

You had always admired Han's loving spirit and his ability to find inspiration in the smallest things. He brought light into your life in ways you never thought possible. And he helped you see the world in a way most didn't. You loved that you had that in common with Han- an appreciation for things that breathed life into your creative works.

You had never been very good at drawing. Or writing. Or anything having to do with the fine arts. Rather your creativity came more in a problem solving way. But in order to connect with Jisung, you decided to take up sketching to connect with Han a little more, because you loved him.

But that just created a deep-rooted insecurity about your creative abilities. Surrounded by so many talented people - as you were around the kids -you often felt your own contributions paled in comparison, and it was a fear you kept to yourself.

One evening, Han was over at your place, working on some new lyrics while you attempted to write poetry. He was sprawled on the couch, notebook in hand, humming a melody under his breath. You sat at your desk, scribbling down words and then erasing them feeling increasingly frustrated with your lack of progress.

You had long given up drawing, and you thought it might be easier to write a poem, since it was words that described your feelings. You could easily write a poem about something you knew well right? It couldn't be that hard.

You scratched your head as you tried to think of rhymes.

"How's it going over there?" Han asked, glancing up from his notebook.

"Not great," you mumbled, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

Han chuckled, not noticing your tone. "I figured."

His casual comment felt like a sting, a reminder of your perceived inadequacies. You forced a smile and nodded, but inside, you felt your confidence crumbling.

He got up and walked over to you, picking up your paper in his hands. He chuckled. "Poetry now huh?"

You felt your cheeks burn and tried to take it from him. "No-"

"No jagiya I want to read it." He said holding it above your head and reading it. "You make me laugh when I am sad, Your jokes are the best I've ever had. When you smile, my heart feels light, You make everything so bright." Han giggled again. "It's like one of those poems we had to write in elementary school."

That made your cheeks burn even more. "Jisung give it back-"

"Your hugs are warm, your eyes so kind, With you, I leave my worries behind. You're my sunshine, my best friend, With you, I hope the good times never end." He gives you a cute pouty face in a teasing manner. "Awww Y/N... it's such a cute little poem. It's like a little nursery rhyme."

"Jisung stop!" You called out again, feeling your eyes burn as you put your fists to your eyes, the embarrassment you had taking over.

"I know my poem's not that great, But loving you is my favorite fate. Thank you Jisung..." His smile fell and he swallowed. "Thank you...Jisung for...for being you. My love for you is always true." He looked up and seemed to realize what he was teasing you about and his lip trembled. "Y/N-"

"I want to be alone." You mumbled through your tears. Jisung wanted to reach out, but he knew he had hurt your feelings, but knowing you he also knew you needed space.

The next few days were a blur of self-doubt and creative blocks. You avoided drawing and writing, and found excuses to stay busy with other tasks. Han noticed your change in behavior and even if you guys had talked a couple hours after the incident, he still didn't think his apology was enough.

One afternoon, while you were both working on a puzzle together, Han brought up the subject again. "Hey, you know I'm really really sorry right?"

You nodded. "I know. I'm not mad anymore, Jisung."

Han frowned. "But you haven't been writing at all. Or drawing...I feel like it's my fault. No...I know it's my fault. I'm sorry I made fun of your poem- I loved it. I really did. It's the sweetest thing anyone has ever written me..."

You felt a pang in your chest, wishing you could believe him. "Thanks, but sometimes it feels like I'm just not good enough."

Han looked taken aback. "What do you mean? You're incredibly talented."

You sighed, finally letting out a bit of your frustration. "It's just… I see how talented everyone else is, including you, and I can't help but feel like my work doesn't measure up."

Han's expression softened, and he reached out to squeeze your hand. "You're amazing in your own right, and comparing yourself to others isn't fair to you. I wouldn't ever want you to compare yourself to me. That's like comparing a doctor to an actor. Both are genius in their own right, but do you expect an actor to be able to perform surgery like a doctor? Or the doctor to recite the entire second act of Hamlet? You have your talents that I could never even begin to measure up to, Y/N. Its the same with everyone who walks this planet..."

His words were kind, but they didn't fully reach the core of your insecurity. You forced a smile and nodded, hoping the conversation would end there.

A week later, Han invited himself over to your house, hoping to put an end to both of your guy's misery. You hated feeling like you had to walk on eggshells around him, and he hated thinking he was making you uncomfortable.

You guys ate dinner and started watching a drama. After the fourth episode Han pressed the pause button.

"Baby...can I show you something?"

You nodded, slightly confused as to why Jisung would pause your binge.

He grabbed his laptop from his bag and came back towards you, placing his headphones on your head.

He unlocked his laptop, clicked a few buttons and a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyes widened.

"Did you guys wrtie a new song?" You asked excitedly, but Jisung shushed you gently and motioned for you to listen.

You closed your eyes and let yourself go, embracing the music fully.

You felt your heart almost stop when you heard the words of your poem masterfully intricated into the song.

"Why did you show me that?" you asked, your voice trembling. You didn't dare open your eyes, or you were sure the tears you had would fall.

Han sounded puzzled. "Because it's great and I wanted to share it."

"But it's not great," you snapped, tears falling from your eyes as you opened them. "People will know you just used those words. You're so much more well versed and-"

Han stopped in his tracks, realization dawning on him. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way. I just wanted to show them how talented you are.” You shook your head.

"Ouch, Y/N..." Jisung chuckled, his voice breaking a little. You looked at Han, whose chubby cheeks were encompassed by his pout. His boba eyes sad.

"No- No baby I meant... I feel like my words are stupid. Not your voice. Your song was absolutely beautiful... I just feel like I made you waste such a good backtrack."

You wiped away a tear, feeling exposed and vulnerable. "It's not your fault. It's just… I can't help but feel like I'll never be as good as everyone else. And I feel like you did that to make me feel better..."

Han pulled you into a tight hug, his voice gentle and soothing. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You're incredibly talented and creative, and your art is a reflection of who you are. It's unique and beautiful, just like you."

You clung to him, the sincerity in his words slowly breaking through your walls. "I just want to feel like I'm enough," you whispered.

Han held you at arm's length, looking into your eyes. "You are more than enough. Your worth isn't defined by how perfect your art or writing is or how you compare to others. It's about the passion and love you put into what you do."

His words resonated with you, and you felt a sense of comfort and reassurance. Han's unwavering support and belief in you made a difference, and you realized that your insecurities didn't define you.

"And I didn't make that song to make you feel better...I made it so you could see just how much inspiration I find from you. Y/N I love you more than anything. So, I was over the moon when I wrote this. And even more elated when I got to use the words the love of my life wrote. That's only the demo..." He grins sheepishly. "I was thinking...it would sound cool if you could leave that poem as a voicemail. I could make it the outro of the song..."

You looked at him with wide eyes. "You mean it?"

"Of course I mean it baby. I mean... I know Stay speculates I'm in a relationship...it's been a year now so I feel like this would be a fun way of confirming that. And I want the world to hear the beautiful voice of my baby." He coos, squishing your cheeks.

You giggle and nod, as Han peppers kisses all over your face.

One evening, as you both sat on the couch, Han handed you a sketchbook he had bought for you. "I got this for you. I want you to fill it with whatever makes you happy. No pressure, just pure creativity. It doesn't even have to be art. Maybe you could write me more poems..."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Thank you, Ji. For everything."

Han wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close. "I'm always here for you. And for inspiration. Because you're my inspiration." He says nuzzling his nose against yours.

You leaned into him, feeling a sense of peace and contentment.

His inspiration. You thought.

What an amazing thing to be...

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (ii)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky at his little shit supreme, obnoxious reader, mentions of hauntings and the things that come with (body harm, priests, etc). images all have alt texts.

A/N: if you're familiar with the format of BuzzFeed unsolved videos, the pictures in this chapter make more sense. anyway we're starting small to warm up but i assure u there's like actual paranormal shit from next chapter onward <3 thank u for the chaotic response to chapter 1 ily guys sm ! as usual, please send me things you'd like to see in the series! it always make me so happy

Previous part || Series masterlist

Bucky loves the compound. The sentiment carries a lot, considering he’s made it a non-negotiable part of his personal brand to hate everything. 

The lush landscape is quiet, spacious enough that he isn’t forced to run into anyone he’s actively avoiding, and has state-of-the art security that lets him sleep soundly, assured that no one will be able to get to his floor in an assassination attempt. 

All of his deep love and fond admiration disappears when it’s the crackass of dawn and his oakwood door receives the beat down of a lifetime. 

He snaps awake instantly, unsure of whether there was someone actually trying to kick the shit out of his door or it was just another nightmare that often blurred lines with reality. 

But after the third deafeningly loud knock confirms it, he scrambles for a pair of pants just so that he isn’t caught entirely vulnerable. 

The thrashing doesn’t cease, and by the time he makes his way to the door and yanks it open– 

There’s no one on the other side. 

Except a coffee cup on the ground and a note scribbled haphazardly on the side.

Shoot day. See you at the studio!

He stares wordlessly at the cup, unable to differentiate whether the feeling coursing through the very fibres of his being currently is pure blinding rage, or confusion that you apparently knew his coffee order. 

The studio is fucking empty. If Bucky wasn’t still reeling from the effects of being startled awake by a fake intrusion at 5am, he’d have been over the damn moon.

He does his part as a man of honour and righteousness– calls out a very quiet ‘Hello?’ and then doesn’t bother feeling guilt when his heart explodes in joy at the lack of response.  

He spins on his heel to march out, only to come to an abrupt stop when he almost runs into you. He didn’t even fucking hear you come in. 

“Oh, hey.” You look at him, hand on a bagel. “You actually showed.”

Bucky’s smile falters, and he returns to his default Grinchian state. 

“You made sure I fuckin’ did,” he grumbles. “How’d you get on my floor?”

“I have my ways.”

Bucky’s glare presses hard into you almost like a palpable entity. 

“I did a gig as an escape artist for a while. Paid super well,” you dismiss. 

He doesn’t blink once, trying to decipher whether you’re telling him the truth or not. 

You offer him a bite from your bagel in return, seemingly having moved on from the conversation already. 

“Where’s everyone else?” he asks, turning away from you.   

“Maya didn’t actually think you’d show up on time so she told everyone to come an hour later.” You speak through a mostly full mouth. “I figured you could use the company.” 

Bucky immediately feels defensive, as if that wasn’t exactly what he tried to do. 

He grumbled all through the morning when he saw fifteen text reminders sent to him through the night telling him he had to shoot a video that day. He grumbled when he couldn’t use traffic as an excuse to not show up because the studio is two streets away from the compound. He grumbled when the toaster actually works for once. Everything is right in the world. This was, of course, devastating to him. 

He finally shuts up when Sam gives him a piece of gum. Then he just glowers, but his jaw is otherwise occupied. 

“She set you on me this morning?” Bucky questions, tone on the verge of being ticked. 

You shake your head, swallowing before taking another bite. “No, that was social service.”

Bucky’s eye twitches. 

“I’ll come back in an hour,” he mumbles, arms crossed over his chest. 

You give him a look that lets him know you’re entirely unconvinced. “Will you?”

Well. No.

“I’m gonna look around the studio. You’re welcome to join,” you say instead, looking past him. “We’ll need to know where we’re working for the next few months.”

Few months? No no– few hours at max, if this were to go exactly his way. 

“Video’s not gonna do numbers,” he reminds you in a dull utterance.

“With an enthusiasm like that, it’s hard to see why you’re not universally beloved, Barnes,” you comment seriously, before clapping his shoulder. “Come on. You ever look at yourself in a mirror? You’re gonna be a star, baby.”

Bucky, in his current chosen avatar, looks less 'man of the world' and more 'reject of the jungle’. 

But the sentiment is appreciated.

The studio is moderately big. 

You find joy in messing around with set pieces of the other Avengers video series that were being shot there. Bucky finds joy in locating every possible escape route within a three foot vicinity. 

He’s admittedly surprised by learning how much actually goes into making a simple video. He just figured they’d stick a camera in his face and teleprompt him and get it over it. 

You chat animatedly about the use of gimbals and different camera gear, lighting setups and sound quality.

“You into this stuff?” He raises an eyebrow.

“No, I just did a stunt as a wedding videographer once,” you wave off, “It was great. You could always tell which couples were gonna get divorced within a year.”

Something unrecognisable flashes in his eyes. 

“Escape artist and wedding videographer,” he repeats.

You stop talking to look at him.

“Yes,” you say simply and go on to provide no further explanation. 

If the morning’s antics weren’t enough, now he’s convinced you’re fucking with him.

“Anyway, they’ll probably stick us in makeup before we go on camera because it–”  

“Makeup?”

“Well– yeah. For the video.” Your eyes dart toward him, sizing him up in a quick glance. “If you look any paler, you’d basically be translucent.”

Bucky can’t even debate it. His skin looks like it hasn't felt the gentle touch of a sunray in millennia.  

“Just say it’s part of the theme.”

You snort. “The first ghost I hunt cannot be one who sits beside me.” 

So Bucky gets his makeup done. 

By the time the studio fills in, he’s already drunk two cups of the shitty breakroom coffee and found fifteen innocuous things to fashion into weaponry if things were to go awry.

The large bright lights force him to keep wiping beads of sweat away from his forehead. Everything exists in a contrarian state of frenzy, and coordinated down to the second as if it were a damn rocket launch. He’s already had three staff members dart about him cross checking if he’s hydrated and if he’s signed the right forms. 

“Oh, you actually showed,” he hears for the second time from Maya, who doesn’t even make an attempt to hide the earnest surprise from her voice.

Bucky wants to scream.

“The team’s picked a really simple case since it’s the first video. You just need to read it out,” she explains breezily, switching from you to him, “and you need to react.” 

You flash her a thumbs up. Bucky doesn’t move an inch. He’s convinced it’ll trigger another round of people meddling with his hair until it looks ‘sufficiently casual but not artificial’. 

 Maya hurriedly leaves after wishing you good luck, probably to fix the walking PR disaster that was Clint, who unceremoniously went live on his Instagram the night before after consuming something he procured from some guy in an alleyway, who described it as ‘carbonated milk’. Bucky watched it for a few seconds and immediately shut down the app when Clint offered to take one article of clothing off for every million people that tuned in.

“I asked for there to be as few people in the room as possible,” you whisper to him. 

“Still a lot,” he replies under his breath, watching them buzz around him, still brushing up his face and dabbing at his hairline with a napkin. 

Someone hands you a folder full of papers. “We lose any more and we’re filming this video ourselves.” 

“All ready!” The camera guy, Shane, announces. 

“Copy that,” you call back, before leaning forward in your chair, grinning. “Chill. I’m gonna do the talking. All you gotta do is say a few words and look pretty.” 

That sounds…doable. 

“Make it fast,” Bucky mutters, crossing his arms over his chest.

Whether he was talking about the video or his death is still up for debate. 

“Recording in three…two…one–”

The whole studio waits with bated breath, but Bucky stares right ahead. 

“When I said a ‘few words’, I did mean one or two, possibly more,” you talk through your smile.  

Bucky continues looking into the camera like it stole his ancestral property.

You exhale, soldiering on, lips still upturned. 

You look at Bucky, hopeful that he will at least answer a question. He doesn’t offer the same kindness, and now you understand why Maya reached out to you for this. 

So you do what needs to be done, as a person with a responsibility to all these fine and tired souls gathered here on a weekend.

You kick him under the table. 

The crew waits for Bucky to say more. He very pointedly doesn’t. 

At least one sound has been procured from him, which is more than what they can say for some other videos.

You continue, “Our story takes place in 1954, in the quaint, rural town of Ravenswood. Irene–”

Bucky scoffs. “You made that up.”

Would now be a good time for him to bring up your previous job experiences you  had dropped so casually or was this enough to let you know he was onto you? 

Your eyebrows pull together, scanning over the sentence. “I haven't even said anything yet.”

“A horror story. Taking place in Raven’s Woods,” Bucky emphasises. “Really.”

Bitch.

“First of all, it’s Ravenswood, not Raven’s Woods,” you shoot back. “And it exists.”

“Where?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“I don’t know– fuckin’ West Virginia?” You shuffle through the papers. “Does it matter? You wanna move there?”

Bucky doesn’t add anything further. 

You observe him for a moment before deciding to continue. 

“In the quiet town of Ravenswood,” you side eye him but he doesn’t look affected. “Irene Wendelin, a 35-year-old woman moved into a house on the outskirts to save up money. She lived alone, had no immediate relatives and worked as a secretary at the local press.”

Bucky continues chewing his gum. You’re not even sure he’s listening, but everyone got paid by the hour regardless of whether he did, so who gives a shit. 

“Within a few weeks of moving in, strange incidents started to take place. Irene’s friend Thelma, who also worked as a secretary at the press, recalled how Irene developed a persistent cough, was constantly fatigued, and had issues sleeping due to her skin itching. Thelma suggested solutions from ointments to medication, but not one remedy that she provided seemed to work. As time went by, Irene’s symptoms escalated into severe respiratory problems, leaving her breathless just from climbing up a flight of stairs. She even reportedly started having hallucinations of people crawling around in her house in the dark, but she was never able to catch them in their entirety.”

“How long did this take?” Bucky questions out of the blue, arms still crossed over his chest. 

“I think within a couple of weeks of moving in.” You try not to look too surprised. “Further, Thelma recalls Irene saying she heard strange sounds at night which kept her up. The only time the woman felt normal was when she left her house to stay with her cousins for a month.”

Bucky’s head snaps to you, eyes narrowing.  

“What?” you challenge.

“Nothin’,” he says instead. “Go on.”

You cast a look at the crew, who look just as confused as you, but you continue regardless. 

“Things escalated when one day, Irene showed up to work in complete disarray. Thelma says that upon a closer look, Irene had bite marks over her hands and legs. Thelma, a devout Christian, insisted on getting the place checked out by the church since all else had failed. Father Gabriel, a local priest, agreed to visit the house, but upon setting foot inside, claimed it was haunted by ‘forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’. This was the last straw for Thelma, who had Irene move into her house until she found a new place to stay. Within a few weeks, Irene was back to normal, and the house is still considered one of the most haunted places in the country to this place, with no one allowed to enter.” 

Bucky looks at his arms, jaw tightening. 

Your eyebrow twitches.

You could see Maya shaking her head from across the room, entirely fucking defeated. 

You wait a few seconds but receive no response. Bucky’s gaze doesn’t shift from the table top. 

You start gathering the folder with the story in it, getting ready to read out your conclusion. 

You stare at him, but he doesn’t look up at you.

Collectively, every spine in the room straightens. 

“Asbestos?” you echo.

“Or mold. Could be either.” Bucky shrugs, chewing on the same stupid piece of gum that had lost its flavour hours ago. 

You look at him in bewilderment, partly because you weren’t expecting him to say anything at all, much less this. 

“Had an aunt once who thought she was possessed. Turns out her walls were full of mold.” 

You stare at him. “You’re lying.”

He finally turns to you, no traces of humour on his face. “She got remarried and moved out. Good as new.” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s asbestos.”

“Had the same symptoms an’ everything. Itchy skin, breathing problems, fatigue.” 

“Hallucinations?”

“Stress. Being poisoned twenty-four hours a day’ll do a number on anyone.”

“And the bite marks?” 

“You never had an itch so bad you just bit it?”

“On her legs?” you ask incredulously. “She bit her legs? Is that what you’re saying?”

Bucky shrugs. 

You look like you’re going to lose your mind. 

You clear your throat. “What about the priest?

Bucky snorts. “What ‘bout him?” 

“'Forces of evil whose reality existed beyond mortal comprehension’?” 

“Maybe it was her,” he fires back. “Maybe that's just how she was, how would you know?”

“You’re saying the forces of evil are just… her bad vibes?” you say it slowly, as if that would make it better. 

“Maybe.” Bucky’s shoulders rise and drop again. “My aunt was a real stick in the mud too. I coulda called her a force’a evil when she didn’t let me fire a bottle rocket into the tree.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. Bucky looks back innocently.

“You’re bullshitting.”

“About my aunt?” he scoffs. “I would never. Rest her soul. Made some damn good cranberry pie.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not asbestos.”

“Then why was she fine every time she moved out?”

“Because the house was haunted.”

“By mold.”

Maya clears her throat, pointing to her watch. 

You look back at her and clear your throat as well, shuffling around your papers. 

“Right. So that’s it for this episode.”

The camera guy yells “Cut!’ and you turn to look at Bucky.

But he’s already gone. 

The video goes up that weekend. 

It takes a considerable amount of time to edit, considering they had to bleep out  the steady stream of expletives that you didn’t even know Bucky was muttering under his breath, but got picked up by the mic anyway.

To Barnes (Work):

are you ready for your influencer era

He leaves you on seen. You think you’ll send him more memes of his stupid face.

To Barnes (Work):

influenza

Five hours since the video has gone up, and your phone starts buzzing more than usual. Nat’s already sent you a clearly AI generated article titled ‘Everything We Know About the Latest Avenger’, full of incorrect information and straight up lies. 

The first reviews are promising. Sort of. The newest generation of kids on Twitter are saying shit and using terms that are beyond you, but it looks good. You think.

And then somewhere close to midnight, your phone chimes with a text from a number you hadn’t yet saved. 

From unknown

Hey. Steve Rogers here. Great job on the video.

Your eyebrows shoot up, discarding your refreshing of the Subreddit that has popped up in your name. 

From unknown

Just letting you know though– he was lying.

From unknown

He doesn’t have an aunt. 

Motherfucker.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to keep up with updates for this fic and others, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications!

Next part

[stevethehairington]

There's a guy that frequents the same park that Steve takes his morning jogs through. He always sits at the same bench, with the same little journal in his lap, bent over it and scribbling furiously away at its pages. Sometimes he'll have headphones on, sometimes he won't. Sometimes he'll be wearing a full on leather jacket, despite the weather. Sometimes he'll just have a t-shirt on, with cut off sleeves that show off his glorious, tattooed arms. Sometimes his long curly hair will be down by his shoulders. Sometimes it'll be tied back out of his face.

But if there's one constant, it's that he is always there.

And he is cute.

Steve wants to talk to him, but he doesn't know what to say to the stranger. Doesn't really know how he would approach him either. Just walking up feels too weird, and forget sliding into the empty space on the bench beside him. Asking about the journal feels way too personal, too. And just saying "Hi, I've seen you around" feels sort of creepy (even though Robin assures him it isn't — it's just a conversation starter).

So instead of outright acknowledging him, Steve decides to be a bit subtler about catching his attention. He surreptitiously alters the course of his jog so that he runs directly past the guy, and if he starts wearing his old shorts from high school that are a little too tight, a little too short, well. Thats for him to know and this guy to notice.

It goes on like that for a few weeks. Steve jogging his new path, right past Cute Guy, trying to sneak a peek from his peripherals as he passes to see if Cute Guy is looking back. And either Cute Guy is really good about timing his looks, or he's just not looking.

It's kind of a total bummer. A real shame. But who knows, maybe Cute Guy already has someone at home. Or maybe he's not into guys. Or maybe he's just not interested in some random, sweaty stranger at the park who stares too much.

Oh well, Steve thinks. Even if Cute Guy isn't interested, he at least gives Steve something nice to look at on his run that isn't a tree so. He'll take what he can get.

And then one day Steve jogs past, not really paying Cute Guy much attention this time.

Only then he hears, "Excuse me! Excuse me, hey, dude, you dropped something!"

Steve slows to a stop, patting at his chest and pockets as he turns back. He has no idea what he could have dropped �� he doesn't bring a whole lot to lose on his jogs in the first place, but there's no way Cute Guy is talking to anyone else.

But also hello Cute Guy is talking to him. Who the fuck cares if he didn't drop anything?

So Steve jogs back towards the guy, who is on his feet now, and jesus his jeans are tight. Steve approaches slow, tries to keep his eyes up, and comes to a stop in front of him. "Oh?" He asks. "I did?"

Cute Guy nods. "Yeah," he says, and holds out a little scrap of paper. He lets a grin (a dimpled grin, be still Steve's heart) spread across his face, tilts his head a little, and goes, "You dropped my number."

Sure enough, right there on the little scrap of paper, are seven digits and a name.

Eddie.

Steve looks back up at Cute Guy— at Eddie. Then he folds the paper back up and makes a show of tucking it safely into his pocket, pulling the zipper across so it won't fall out. He pats his pocket and grins back at Eddie. "Wouldn't want to lose that," he tells him. He sways forward on the balls of his feet, lifts a hand to his mouth like he's telling a secret. "Rumor has it that's going to get me a date with a very cute boy."

Eddie's eyes sparkle and his smile brightens. "I can assure you, that is no rumor."

[otomiyaa]

Diluc x Ticklish Male!Reader

Romantic + 11. “So, what will be your next excuse to tickle me?” Requested by @blue-little-angel for my 1K Followers Event🌻

You started it. Really, anyone would say you literally asked for it. But how could you help yourself? When Diluc was tying his hair in one of those pretty ponytails with his hair tie in his mouth, looking so gentle, charming, vulnerable, beautiful...

Well, your hand just acted on its own!

You reached out, tickled him and watched his adorable reaction unfold. The delight of watching him yelp with his arms shooting down, and seeing the blush spread on his cheeks, it was quite short-lived.

You went from giggling triumphantly to cackling your head off the moment he lunged at you, his fingers digging into your sides for a fitting tickly revenge.

"Cheeky little guy, you thought that was funny hmh?" he said with his hair tie still between his teeth as he tickled you, his attack calm and calculated, yet so very torturous.

"Yehehes! I'm sorry-ackhahha! Dil-Diluhuhuc wahahait!" you laughed, and you tried to jump up and get out of his reach, but this was a game easily won by him. You always failed at tickle fights against your evil boyfriend, no matter how much you tried to win.

It was a combination of those ticklish sensations and the way Diluc would always look whenever he tickled you: so charming and elegant, it made your entire mind and body go weak.

And it happened a lot, actually. Whether you teased him physically or verbally, whether he was trying to be romantic, playful or vengeful, or whenever you were too tired in the morning or too energetic, Diluc would find a reason to tickle you.

It became clear to you that he just enjoyed this way of showing affection, and you might like it even more. Despite the somewhat uncharming noises you made every now and then...

"Heehehehee NAhh! Not thehehere!" you howled when his wiggling fingers reached under your shirt. You weakly grabbed his hands but were unable to stop them from making you laugh. Diluc smirked at your attempts.

"You'd say that no matter where," was his soft answer, and with one hand he swiftly took the hair tie out of his mouth and put it around his wrist. He then pulled you tightly against him into a warm and comfortable hug, but, not without the tickles.

"Eyaaahaha! Okahahay I'm sohohorry! Yehehes?!" you laughed, kicking your legs in hysteria. Diluc merely scratched your tummy and sides and was able to turn you into such an embarrassing orchestra of sounds and noises with only little effort.

"Hmm," Diluc hummed, staring absent-mindedly in the distance while his fingers continued to scribble all over your ticklish areas.

"One more time," he suggested.

"I'm sohohorry for tihihickling you!" you howled, trying the more specific way. And it worked! Diluc only tickled you a little more after that, then he finally stopped.

"Whew. This time, I kinda deserved it," you agreed breathlessly, and you pulled your shirt back down to cover up your tummy which still felt ticklish even when Diluc's attack had stopped seconds ago.

"Hmm," Diluc responded quietly, and he nodded. You smirked, thinking it was so funny that for such a quiet guy, he sure was very tickly.

"So, what will be your next excuse to tickle me?” you asked, and you noticed from the way Diluc blushed that he wasn't ready to suddenly be confronted with his repetitive ways of punishing you, teasing you, and so on.

"Well... I-if you keep giving me reasons to..." Diluc looked you in the eye and paused mid-sentence, changing his mind. He then gave you a tender kiss on your lips and smiled.

"I mean... why would I need an excuse to tickle my boyfriend?" Diluc asked, no longer looking flustered. The one who was blushing like crazy: it was you again. Eep. 2-0 for Diluc! You collapsed against him and couldn't stop smiling, covering your face with your hands while you gathered your breath.

In the meantime, Diluc finally successfully finished tying his hair, looking even more beautiful. You were truly so lucky to have him!

[jenoroyals]

It Started With A Kiss - Park Sunghoon

(based off Japanese anime & drama Mischievous Kiss)

pairing : park sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis : A shooting star destroys your home, forcing you and your father to move in with his old friend. Little did you know, Park Sunghoon, the guy who you'be been in love with for years, also lives there. How are you going to live under one roof with the boy that rejected you just days ago?

word count : 630 words

content/warnings : angst, sunghoon is MAJOR red flag, yn is ditzy and kind of stupid (in a cute way kind of), MAJOR second hand embarrassment, more to be added

featuring : ryujin (itzy), lia (itzy), jisung (nct), wonyoung (ive - later on), isa (stayc - later on)

PROLOGUE

Scribbling down random notes in your notebook, you notice they all say one thing, Mrs. Park y/n. It was already past sunset and he was still running through your mind. A lady’s voice comes from the radio, “When you see a shooting star, make a wish and your wish will come true.” 

You quickly rush to open your curtains and walk out onto the balcony. Looking up, you see thousands of stars shining throughout the sky. Shining like diamonds, you can’t help but admire them. Never having to deal with endless feelings, all they do is just look pretty. 

As you're admiring the beautiful night, a shooting star passes by. You gasp, remembering the words from the radio, you put your hands together and make a wish.

‘I wish I can tell Sunghoon how I feel about him.’ 

You smile after thinking about the said boy for the 100th time that night. Walking back into your bedroom, you shut the balcony door and jump right into bed. 

-

As the sun starts to rise up, you get up out of bed and start to get ready. Sliding the skirt over your waist and buttoning up your shirt, you slide your hands against the clothes, smoothing them out. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you smile brightly. 

Your dad always said not to dress up so pretty for boys, but instead for yourself. But you couldn’t help it. You were going to be talking to Sunghoon for the first time in your life. Of course you wanted to look your best. 

Once you arrive at school, you’re instantly running around the high school looking for Sunghoon. Other students have already started gathering at the school, yet there was no sign of him. 

Finally, you see him walking towards the entrance, alone. You smoothed over your uniform for the thousandth time that morning and let out a deep exhale while receding your letter in your head. 

“Dear Park Sunghoon, 

Nice to meet you Sunghoon. My name is l/n y/n, I’m in Class F. You don't know me, but I know you. Since you made a speech at the entrance ceremony two years ago, I have been admiring your intelligence and handsome face. 

There is no way that I can be in the same class as you, this is why I am writing this letter to you. When I first saw you, I felt like I was hit by a shooting star. I started to have special feelings for you.”

You slowly start walking towards him with a smile on your face. “Excuse me.” You say facing him. He gives you a stern look with a blank expression and answers, “Who are you?” 

You take a breath again before continuing, “I’m l/n y/n from Class F. Could you please read this?” You hold out the letter with both of your hands and smile, waiting for him to take the letter. 

He stares down at the letter and then looks back up to you. Your smile widens but it quickly falls when you hear his answer. 

 “I don’t want it.” He states while walking away, not sparing you another glance. You’re standing there frozen with students passing by and staring at you. 

Your body felt stuck. As much as you wanted to move as not to get more embarrassed your body wouldn't let you. The wind picks up and blows the letter out of your hand, but you’re in so much shock that you can’t even comprehend to go look for it.

As the letter sweeps through the air, it finally lands right in front of Sunghoon who steps on it accidentally, but he doesn’t bother to look back. He keeps his head up and continues walking to his class.

[ultralightpoe]

Full House lll - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: Omg. Me? Staying on schedule? Never.

Word Count: 10112

Warnings: None? Idk.

Part One HERE and Part Two HERE

(Thank you for the gif @psychecreations )

Enjoy!

“When’s the first doctors appointment?” Nancy asks, walking up to where you were currently standing at your jobs wait station. You jump, dropping the order pad you had been scribbling in as you turn to find her leaning on the wall. 

“What? Why are you here?” 

“I was craving chicken and didn’t want to hear Steves kfc imitation. So we decided to come here.” She smiles, rubbing her stomach ever so slightly. “Plus it meant I got to check on you.” 

“Oh I’m fine.” You lie, forcing a smile on your face as she narrows her eyes. 

It’s been 4 days since the Christmas fiasco, and 4 days since you realized Eddie was leaving. You tried to pick yourself back up the day of Christmas but ended up telling everyone that you were really sick and should shut the party down early. They had all gone to Steves and you were truly embarrassed to think of what they might have been saying about you. 

God, did you have to ruin everything you touched? 

“You never answered my question.” 

“Oh? I was just sick. It’s not a serious bug or anything. I just didn’t want to get you guys sick on Christmas. That would have been bad” you lie again, feeling a coiling feeling in your gut. “Why don’t you go sit?” 

“Y/n, girl I love you. But you’re showing.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too. Especially in this waitressing uniform.” It was true. Normally the old school 70s uniform fit you like a glove, falling just to your thighs and it made tips so much easier. Right now? It was on the tighter side…… which made tips even easier because your boobs looked great but you felt terrible about everything. 

“Does he know?” Nancy asks, and you have to stop yourself from telling her or shove off. After a moment of silence she seems to take that for an answer. “Y/n….. Eddie needs to know.” 

“Why? So I can trap someone else?” You laugh bitterly. “That poor guy has already put up with enough of my shit. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go grab tables.” 

You walk past her, not giving her a chance to argue as you completely avoid looking to their tables direction and move to your own section of the floor to greet a new table. 

Pam, one of your favorite regulars, sees you and greets you with a smile. “You never work Friday nights!” 

You always spent Friday nights with Eddie and the girls for movie night. But Eddie ran and you needed to make rent so tonight Max was watching them. 

“Starting now I will be. You want your usual babe?” 

“You know it!.” She giggles. 

-

Steve tried saying bye before they left and you pretended you didn’t see him as you took orders, by the end of the night your feet were killing you and you all but limped inside to where Max was sitting at the table doing college homework with her headphones on. 

Either she didn’t have them loud or she was on edge, your guess being a bit of both, she knows you're there and turns to you when you enter the kitchen. 

“Thank you so much Max.” You mumble, pulling out the tip money you had set aside for her. “I’m sorry I ran late.” 

“No need to pay.” She smiles, pushing the money away. “I like spending time with them.” 

That tight feeling in your stomach is back, digging in as you stare at the redhead. She had been part of the reason you chose Hawkins, Billy had (in one of his rare good moments) described the way Max seemed to blend in and find a home here. He told you about the friends she made and how she managed to grow into a brave person and you wanted that for your own. So, assuming she was gone, you moved out here. Little did you know you find her soon enough along with an entire group of people connected to your ex. 

You had always been told max was dead. 

Max had always been told Billy was dead. 

You didn’t know how she figured you out until Eddie told you about VECNA and Lucas told you about his girlfriends sight for things. 

“I…. I saw the tickets.” She admits, blush traveling her cheeks as you move to make a cup of tea. The cupboard was still broken and you couldn’t bear to look at it. 

“What tickets?” 

“You left your folder out on the table. I saw that you were figuring out where to go.” Max admits and you can’t help but tense. 

“I just….. I don’t want the girls being surrounded by…..” 

“Billy?” 

“Yes…..” you admit, still keeping your back to her as you boil water. “And Eddie. I just don’t want them knowing that he left them. They adore him too much.” 

Coward. Coward. COWARD. 

“I’m not a mom, but I can get your urge to protect them.” Max mumbles. “But what if they end up hating you for taking them away.” 

“Then they have someone to blame. I’d rather them blame me than themselves. It is my fault anyways.” You admit, tears springing into your eyes. “Anyways. Take the money, go have fun.” 

“Do you need me again this week? I saw that you work on New Year’s Eve.” 

“No. You should be going out with your friends.” 

“The boys have a start of the year campaign and El is taking a trip with Hopper. I’m free.” She laughs, trying to break the tension built up. “I’ll be here at 2.” 

You can’t get the words thank you out because of how tight your throat is, so you just mouth them as she grabs the money and passes. 

-

Steve could not stop laughing when he saw Eddie’s face the day he brought the car into the shop, leaning over on his knees to catch his breath as he wheezed out. 

Dylan, the other mechanic, kept looking over to watch the scene unfold as Eddie tried to focus on his friends car. 

“Harrington.” 

“Dude I know- it’s just that your face is so purp-hahaha.” Another fit of laughter and Eddie is debating throwing his drill at him. He was in no shape to be dealing with him today. 

Truth was Eddie had barely gotten a wink of sleep, he couldn’t manage to. Not used to not having you beside him, or not having the girls night light and soft lullabies. It had been 5 days since he saw you and he was beginning to lose his mind and resolve. 

Almost every night he nearly talked himself into going back, then he remembered Motleys broken cries as they carted him off and the way she clung to your hip. The way she screamed for her dad as Eddie attacked him. 

Monster monster monster. 

“Gotta give it to Hargrove. He knows how to punch.” 

“Yeah well, hope he had his fun.” Eddie snaps, leaning back to make sure he adjusted the part correctly. 

“Did you get him back?” 

“I got a few licks in.” Eddie mumbles, feeling guilty about the pride that washes over him as he remembers the way he beat Billy's face in. That was motleys dad. As much as he enjoyed hitting him he probably just scarred the Metalhead for life. 

“Oh a few licks.” Steve scoffs, moving to take a seat on the stool at Eddie’s workstation. “I know how strong you are Munson. You got more than a few licks in.” 

“I shouldn’t have.” 

“Why the hell not?” 

“Because Motley was right there! She’s gonna hate me forever.” Eddie scoffs. 

“Oh you mean more than they already do?” This pulls Eddie’s attention, he had been doing so good about not asking but he was dying to know. What had they said? Were they happy he’s gone? Mad that he fought Billy? 

“What’d they say?” 

“Not much of anything. Nancy knows something is up but your girl is keeping her lips sealed pretty well. I didn’t even know about your fight with jackass until I saw your face.” 

“But you said they were mad.” 

“Yeah man, you missed Christmas and just dipped. Leaves a bad impression.” 

“Oh whatever. They are better off, I just ruin everything.” 

“Oh. My. God.” Steve gasps, looking at Eddie like he’s figured everything out. “You’re self sabotaging!” 

“What?!”

“Yeah! You think you’re the bad guy and so you’re trying to run away which is just making you even more of a bad guy which means my wife can stop threatening to shave your head.” 

“I….. no man you don’t get it.” 

“I do get it. I get it more than anyone else and let me be the first to tell you that you’re being a massive idiot.” He sighs, standing up. “Motley was waiting by that window to spot you that entire day.” 

“S……she was?” 

“Yeah Munson. She was.” 

“I just….. I don’t want to be the one holding them back. I don’t want her to hate me.” 

“Did you ever think that maybe Motley chose you? Like you chose Wayne?” Steve asks, watching Eddie deflate before his eyes before turning to the car. “I’m not paying by the way. Consider my advice enough.” 

“Ass.” 

- 

Eddie spends the day of New Year’s Eve by the phone, fighting the urge to call. 

What would he say? How would he explain? 

No. Don’t call. This is for the better. 

Yes. Call. Just pick the phone just for the chance to hear your voice. 

God damn when did life get so complicated?

“What are you doing?” Wayne asks, watching eddie from his spot on the couch. “Quit wearing down my carpet.” 

The carpet has been worn down since Eddie had moved in, but he chooses not to comment instead he sits by the phone, keeping his pinky on the handle of the plastic and glaring at it. 

“You expecting a call?” 

“No.” Eddie groans, rubbing his chest to try and relieve some of the pain built up. God he missed you guys. “Fuck. I’m gonna go smoke.” 

He rushes to the back porch before Wayne could argue, hearing the old man laugh as he slams the door. 

There is a dog out there when he exits, chewing on a stick found from the trees and sitting right by the fence. Upon looking a little closer he sees that the dog actually seems caught under the fence, like he was trying to sneak in. 

“Jesus.” He murmurs, keeping the joint between his lips as he walks up, socked feet stepping on sticks and stones making him grunt out and try walking on his tippy toes. 

He looks back with a smile, expecting a giggle from one of the girls at his weird walk before he realizes he’s alone. Shit. 

The dog is panting patiently when Eddie comes up, and the man reaches a hand to let him sniff before moving to help. The dog chooses to kiss at his arm, tongue lapping at the skin as Eddie lifts the fence to try and help free him. 

“Why you sneaking in pal?” He grunts, bending the fence. “You hungry?” 

Within moments the dog is out, jumping up and kissing at his face for being rescued. “God. Motley would love you.” 

-

“Shhhhh Ziggy.” Motley whispers to her baby sister, pulling her closer to the corner. The way daddy eddie set up her room was perfect. 

He had put her bed in the center which left a small corner by her nightstand hidden from the door. 

Over the past week she had looked for Daddy Eddie’s number, finding it sprawled under the label emergency numbers where he had written it under Wayne. 

It was so weird that Daddy Eddie called his dad Uncle Wayne. Adults were so confusing. 

Before you had left for your shift that night you made sure to wish Motley a happy new year and made her promise to behave. Little did you know that she had crossed her fingers behind her back. 

The second you were gone she dashed to grab the closest phone, pulling it into her room and hiding it as Max struggled to cook nuggets for dinner. 

Later that night when Auntie Max was reading on the couch Motley tiptoed to Ziggys room before sneaking her sister out of her crib and tip toeing back as Ziggy giggles happily. 

“Sissy…” She giggles, pulling at Motleys cheeks happily. “Zigsy.” 

“No your Ziggy silly. I’m motley.” She corrects as she shuffles with her sister in an awkward half hold half walk carry until they are in the corner. “Okay Ziggy. Sissy needs your help. You remember the plan?” 

“Zigzy!” 

“Oh boy…..”

-

The phone rings late, and Eddie sits up in the couch to lean his upper body to answer it, stressed and annoyed. 

The stray dog lifts their head, huffing at being woken up and tilting to hear, one ear shooting up. “Easy Zeppelin.” 

The dog barks, and Eddie likes to think he enjoyed the name as he picks the phone up. “Munson residence.” 

God it felt weird saying that again.

“DADDY!” Motley whispers, sounding scared. Eddie is instantly up, standing on his feet and swiping at his face to wake up a little more. 

“Motley? What’s wrong baby?”

“Someone’s trying to get in daddy.” 

“Get in where? Where are you?” He’s already reaching for his keys, heart beating through his ears as his hands shake. 

“We’re at home.” She whines. 

“Where’s mommy?” 

“At work!” Fuck. “Okay. Okay. Just hide. Just like daddy told you, remember? If anything happens, hide. You know where Ziggy is?” 

“She’s with me.” 

“Good girl. Get under your bed or in your closet. I’ll be right there.” He mumbles, calling out to Wayne to grab the phone before booking it out of the trailer. 

He gives no time for the van to warm up, tearing out of the trailer park so quickly he’s sure he hit someone’s patio chair, mumbling under his breath a panicked “fuckfuckfuck” 

-

The van is uneven as Eddie pulls in quickly, shifting gears to park so hard it makes a grinding sound before he is swinging the door open and tearing out. His feet hit the gravel before the grass as he rushes to the front door, using his shoulder to shove it open harshly. 

A scream tears out in to the air at his entrance before a book is thrown at him which makes him yell out at whoever is in the house. 

“EDDIE?!” 

“MAXINE?!” He snaps, blinking at her. “What the fuck you doing?” 

“What am I doing?! What are you doing?! You physco!”

“Motley said that someone was trying to break in!” 

“I put Motley to bed an hour ago.” Max grunts, confusion lacing her features. 

“You’re babysitting?” 

“Obviously.” 

“But her car is in the front.”  Eddie felt like he was going crazy. “And since when does she work nights?!” 

“Her car wouldn’t start so she took the bus today.” Max sighs, rolling her eyes. “And she needs extra cash. Probably for the plane tickets to get out of here.”

“Tickets out of….” Before Eddie can process her words any further there is a small pair of eyes looking around the corner drawing his attention. 

Ziggy moves quickly, coming around the corner with a very excited giggle, walking to him as fast as her little feet would allow. “Da-Ed-ay!”

“Hey there baby girl.” He smiles, picking her up and swooping her into his arms to kiss all over her face. It was odd, just how much he missed this and it seemed like she had gotten so much bigger in the 4 days he missed. 

“I swear to god I put her to bed. How did she get out of her crib?!” Max glares, right as the culprit behind it all comes rushing out to run at Eddie. 

“I knew you’d come! I knew it daddy!” She giggles, running at him and throwing her arms around him tightly. “You came back!” 

“Motley?” He starts, brain beginning to process what she was saying. “Did you…. Lie to get me here?” 

“I did!” She smiles, peering up at him with big doe eyes. “I lied daddy! And now you’re here and you can take all my Barbie’s!” 

“If you know lying is bad and you’ll get punished, why did you do it?” He asks, pulling her off before squatting to her level. “Metal head, that was very dangerous-“ 

A gust of air leaves him as her arms wrap around his neck tightly, tears springing from her eyes. “I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.” 

“Motley I’m not mad, that was just dangerous and it scare-“ 

“No! About Billy. I’m sorry daddy.” His heart plummets, his brain racking to figure out what she was talking about. Why was she sorry? 

“No. No I’m sorry.” He sighs, turning to see Max staring at them intently. “Hey max. Think you can take Ziggy for a moment?” 

“Sure thing mop head.” The redhead scoops Ziggy up causing the young toddler to scream and kick, reaching chubby fingers out for Eddie. As much as he wanted to take her back he had to focus on Motley. 

“Come sit.” He nods his head, leading her to the kitchen table sitting in the chair beside hers and angling it so they were facing. “Listen….. Daddy ha- Well I have been feeling really bad about Christmas Eve. I never meant to do that, or to attack your dad in front of you.” 

“But-“ 

“I owe you a big apology for that Motley. And I don’t know what you’re feeling sorry about, pretty girl, but it’s not your fault and you have no reason to be sorry.” He murmurs, swiping the tears that fall from her cheek. “You have done nothing wrong.” 

“I told Billy he couldn’t come for Christmas Daddy!” She blurts, her tears hit against his thumb as he keeps swiping her cheek. “I’m sorry!” 

“No no no. You don’t be sorry.” He moves to pick her up, sitting her on his lap with her face pressed into his chest as he rubs his palm over her hair to try and soothe her. “Let’s just take a deep breath, okay? Then you can tell me what happened.” 

There’s something coiling in his gut at her tears. Pain, anger, sadness. He truly could not tell, but he kept her close and rocked her back and forth to let her cry. When she finally calmed down enough to talk she started telling him. 

“He was really mean daddy. And he kept t-telling me that y-you we’re gonna replace me-“ her body racks with sobs again. “He said you didn’t want me. A-and I was upset! But he w-was mean to you-“ 

“Easy.” He whispers, wiping her cheek once more. “You gotta breathe pretty girl.” 

“He was m-mean. Said mean things about you daddy and mean things ab- I’m sorry! I-“ her sobbing gets worse and Eddie shushes her, choosing to rock her back and forth and keep her in his tight embrace. “And you w-were ma-you were madatme.” 

“No no. I was never mad.” He sighs. “Daddy was never mad at you.” 

“You were.” 

“No, I was just scared. I…. Daddy didn’t want you hating him.” Eddie explains. “I just wanted to give you space. Having 2 dads is confusing. I didn’t want to make it worse.” 

“He hit you.” 

“Did he ever hit you motley?” Eddie asks sternly, squeezing her a bit in comfort. 

“He spanked me.” That feeling in his stomach settled on rage. 

“That’s not fair. And you shouldn’t have had to go through that.” 

“Please don’t leave again.”  As much as he wanted to promise her that he wouldn't, that wasn’t a promise he could make. You probably hated him, and he would have to talk this out with you first. 

“Let’s get you to bed yeah? Daddy will tuck you in.” 

“I want mama.” 

“Well she’s at work.” He mumbles against her hair. 

“Can we go get milkshakes?” 

“I don’t know…..” it was almost 10. Then again it was New Year’s Eve and he didn’t want you taking the bus home so this would give him an excuse to go pick you up. “Only if they have chocolate.” 

“You already know they have chocolate!” She giggles, and he can’t stop the way his heart seems to light up. 

-

It was a busy night, and the smell of the jalapeno nachos all your tables were ordering was making you nauseated and angry. You wanted to throw up, maybe cry, maybe throw up then cry. 

Apparently a town next to Hawkins lost power so a bunch of people were driving to this place to have a good new years which meant you were going to be stuck here forever. You found yourself stressing about the bus’ schedule as you dashed to run food. 

This is what you had been doing when you spotted him. Running a tray of jalapeño nachos to your table, keeping it a safe distance from your nose as you thought about the fact that you might have to walk, and there he was. 

Standing in the doorway, leather jacket and wide eyes, as you caught him looking for you. And he was holding Ziggy. 

What the fuck Maxine?! 

“Y/n get a move on!” Your manager calls and you snap out of it, moving to deliver the tray as the host seats Eddie. 

You hear Motley call out “mommy!” And instantly knew that they would now be sat in your section. Did it make you a bad mother if you admitted you would rather die than face him tonight? 

“Mama!” Your daughter calls, making you look over as she slides in, Eddie sitting right next to her and then you are forced to confront this. You should have learned about birth control. Better yet maybe you should have practiced the art of condoms more.  

Thinking of all the ways you could have prevented this situation as you gaze at your daughters adorable smiling face. God she was beautiful….. still should have used a condom. 

“What a surprise. I could have sworn I left you guys with Max.” You try to smile, avoiding looking at Eddie as Ziggy reaches for you. You grab her gently, bouncing her on your hip and she starts playing with your hair clip. 

“I got daddy!” Motley admits proudly, pointing to Eddie which makes you look at him. Your heart thumping against your chest, adrenaline rushing through you as he stares at you with those god damn brown eyes. 

“Munson.” You greet, turning back to Motley. “Girls, stay in the booth for a moment. Okay? I’m gonna talk to him outside.” 

You walk off after that, leaving Eddie no choice but to follow as he jumps up and runs to catch up. The winter hair hits you, and you immediately wrap your arms around yourself to keep some of the warmth, the crappy waitress outfit doing nothing for you. 

The second you hear your name fall from his lips you whirl, slapping him in the chest to push him back. “What the fuck is the matter with you munson?!” 

“I…. Give me a moment to explain, please.” 

“Explain?! EXPLAIN?!” A bitter laugh splits from your lips. “Look. I get it. My life was a bit too messy and fucked up, I’d run too. But you bringing the girls here is just making it worse. You’re going to get their hopes and it’s gonna crush them.” 

“Too messy? Who said anything about it being too messy?” 

“WHY ELSE WOULD YOU RUN?!” Your voice raises louder than you thought it would, but you don’t back down. “And I don’t appreciate you talking to my daughters without me. Now I gotta tell them-“ 

The words ‘my daughters’ sound wrong, and you can’t fight the disgust that coats you as you trail off, eyes widening as he stares back at you with a set jaw. “I just mean….. I get why you left okay? My life is chaos and you were really nice for staying and pretending like it was fine. But those girls…. They can’t know you left cause of that. I was hoping, as shitty as it sounds, that after a couple years they’d forget. Y’know?” 

You are swiping at your cheeks as tears stream down your face, trying not to look at him. You catch him moving up, his hands outstretched, but you move backwards so he can’t grab you. “Eds. Y-you should just go. Okay? It’ll be fine.” 

“No it won’t-“ 

“It will. I’ll be fine. I won’t be mad-“ then his arms are around you, pulling you in quickly as he shoves your head into his chest and you get to inhale his scent once more. Doing your best not to outright sob. 

“I was the mess.” He blurts. “I was scared, okay? I was scared that Billy was gonna turn everyone against me, and I was scared that I ruined Motleys Christmas.” 

You scoff, trying to pull away, not really believing the excuse. Before you can fully move he wraps an arm around your waist, his other hand moving to your jaw to drag your eyes up to his own. “I was scared. I was a coward.” 

“But-“ 

“No buts. I didn’t leave cause I thought you were a mess, baby I think you’re perfect and your daughters are so fucking precious to me. I…. You really thought I was running cause I couldn’t handle it?” 

“I just-“ 

“Y/n!” Your boss calls from the door, looking exasperated. “You gettin sick again? Need to go? Or you wanna get paid so you can afford maternity leave?” 

You tense again under Eddie’s touch, stomach curling as you try and take a step back while Eddie’s brows knit in confusion before he turns to glare at your boss. “She’s sick.” 

“Fine. Take her home. Just have to transfer tables.” The man snaps, turning to walk back in before Eddie is whirling on you. 

“Am I crazy or did he just say maternity leave?” 

“Eddie….” You sigh, feeling saliva build up as you panic. He watches you, taking a step back just as you lean forward to puke. 

- 

The car ride is silent. Not the serene kind of quiet and more so the anxiety inducing type. 

You had no clue what to say to him at this point. Suddenly everything just seemed to….. silly. You’re reaction and his reaction. You should have just called. Why hadn’t you called? 

No, he should have called. 

You were being a decent person and giving him space and “mama?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?” 

“Ya!” Ziggy yells, making Eddie chuckle under his breath as he leans to turn the heater in the car up. It had been forever since you had ridden in this van, since he deemed it unacceptable to drive the girls around in since it lacked seatbelts or a backseat. Even now everytime he braked he means a hand out to block the girls even with Ziggy in your lap. 

“I don’t know…” 

“Please! Please please.” 

“We will talk about it when we get home.” 

Only there was no talking about it, the second you got home with the girls Motley ran to throw away her to go milkshake cup then dashed to your bed quickly which turned into a screaming fit when you tried to tell her no. 

The word condom just kept circling your mind as you finally just told her to lay down, she did so and Ziggy soon made her appearance to crawl onto the bed. 

Eddie takes off his shoes. Moving to lay with the girls as you turn off one of the lights so the room was dark enough for them to fall asleep, and then you shuffle to the bathroom to shower before bed so you didn’t smell like grease and beer. 

It wasn’t even 10 minutes before you heard the door open and shut softly, you turn already knowing he is heading for the shower and watch as the curtain opens lightly. 

Normally he would jump right in like he belonged there which would make you laugh, tonight he had a questioning gaze, trying not to over step. You give him a small nod and then the curtain is pushed aside and he dives in, still in his shirt and jeans. 

“Edward-“ you warn before his lips are on yours in a searing kiss. He keeps one hand on your jaw to keep your lips connected as his other wraps around your back to keep you close as the water runs over both of you getting his clothes soaked. By the time you pull back he’s already working his way down your neck with kisses as you earn him again “clothes.” 

The hand holding your jaw moves to cover your mouth quickly as he peers at you, giving you a fake angry expression that has you laughing. “Do not wake our kids.” He whispers before stepping back to undress. 

The jeans take a moment to shuck off since they were wet but the second he is free Eddie dives for you again, showing up just how much he missed you. 

-

You sit with him on the floor of the kitchen by the fridge, using the light above the oven as your only source of light while you both snack, keeping cuddled together in nothing but your robes. 

Nothing has been said yet, and you were just fine with that, exhausted and happy that he was there. But he has to ruin it, of course he does. 

“I’m still sorry.” He murmurs, scraping the cream of one side of an Oreo using the empty side. 

“I am too. I think we’re both incredibly stupid right now.” 

“You’re telling me.” He blushes. “I just…. There was a time in my life when I hated Uncle Wayne. I had this image in my mind that he was trying to tear me away from my dad. Fuck I just wanted to be with my dad, I looked up to him whether he beat me or not and- the way I treated Wayne and the way I hated him….. my dad didn’t help, everytime I went back with him my mom and I just ended right back up at Wayne’s with more bruises than last time. And when she passed I was the only one there to inflict it. Wayne for him arrested and I swore my world was ending, swore I would never talk to Wayne again.” 

“You thought that was what was going on with Motley? That she felt like you were tearing her and her dad apart?” 

“Yes and no. I just was trying to prevent that from happening, I didn’t want her to have to experience that choice.” He whispers, picking at the robe. “I just wanted to protect her.” 

“She wanted to protect you too.” You whisper back. “That’s love.” 

“Billy told her that…. That I was gonna try and replace her.” He gulps, and you stop smiling instantly. “And now that you’re pregnant, and as happy as I am because I am so happy, I need to make sure she knows that I’m not trying to replace her.” 

“We’ll make it work.” You mumble, laying your head on his shoulder. “We always do” 

He hums out, laying his head on top of yours and sitting in the silence for a moment before you break it once more. “Where are your rings?” 

“Haven’t worn them since I got arrested.” He answers, holding up his bare hands. “My fingers were too bruised and swollen at first, then I just couldn’t care to put them on.” 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Let’s go to bed..” 

“Give me five more minutes.” He whispers, turning his head to kiss your own, keeping his nose pressed into your hair. 

“Why?”

“I just…. I just want to be near you for a little longer.” 

- 

The sun peaks through the curtains, hitting Eddie right in the face which in return makes him groan out, moving the pillow around to try and block it. I’m his attempt to move Ziggy wiggles around, giving a displeased noise that her dad woke her up from sleeping before moving to lay right on his chest. 

Motley does not move an inch, mouth wide open and eyes sealed shut, Eddie has to reach a hand out to poke her and make sure she’s not dead. 

She wrinkles her nose, moving closer and shoving her face in your pillow, staying peacefully asleep. 

You’re sitting at the edge of the bed, and he can only blink at you trying to straighten his eyesight as he watches you zip up your work boots. (For some reason I imagine go go boots with the 70s look. I don’t know guys. I….. I have no clue). 

“You going to work?” He blurts, making you jump. 

“Sorry, yeah. Max will be here soon to watch the girls. We agreed on it last night before I left.” You mumble, moving to grab your apron. 

“I can watch em….” He whispers, staring at you. The way the sun from the window hits you makes you look angelic. 

“Okay.” You smile, moving to kiss Motley and Ziggys heads before you move to walk away. Fully offended Eddie snatches your hand and draws you back, annoyed at the shit eating grin on your face. 

“Baby,” he whines making you let out a small laugh and lean down to kiss his lips before rushing to leave. 

He lays with the girls for a little longer making sure the blanket is covering all three of them before the day truly has to start and he forces himself to get up. Setting Ziggy down without waking her up was a difficult task but he managed, shuffling to the bathroom to change into todays clothes, thankful that he no longer has to wear all the shit clothes he left at Wayne’s when he originally moved out. 

Upon exiting the bathroom he nearly trips over Motley, who had been sitting in front of the door. “What are you doing Metalhead?” 

“You took forever…” she whines, wrapping herself around his calf which makes him smile. “I wanna stay with you.” 

“Okay,” he answers, moving down to peel her off his leg and letting her climb up for a piggy back. “You’re gonna help me make breakfast then.” 

“Waffles?” 

“We’ll just have to wait and see.” He smirks, walking down the hall as the front door opens to reveal Max. 

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” She rushes out, face red from running. “I woke up a little late and-“ 

“It’s no problem. I’m here if you had other things to do.” Eddie offers. “Or you can stay and have some breakfast?” 

“Sounds great. I’m kinda ignoring the rest of the group right now.” She explains, setting her bag down and following them into the kitchen. Eddie gets Max set up at the table, trying to set Motley with her but the girl wiggles and whines so he allows her to stay. 

He listens to Max rant about the group as he moves around to make waffles, enjoying the easy feeling he gets being here. God why did he ever leave home? 

“-And Lucas is just always set out to fight Erica. You’d think he had a crush on Dustin and wanted to date him. You know? I get it, your baby sister starts dating your closest friend. A little weird. But get over it!” 

“I think Uncle Dustin and Auntie Erica are so cute!” Motley adds which makes Eddie chuckle a bit. 

“Lucas is upset because he always thought they were in agreement that Erica was annoying.” He explains, bending down to set Motley down and bring the food to the table. “But it’s been months. Time to move on.” 

“Exactly!” Max sighs right as Ziggy comes pounding in with an angry look.

“Alone….” She whines and Eddie smiles at her. “Aweee did you wake up alone? My poor little baby.” He coos, picking her up and bringing her close to kiss before setting her on his lap to help her eat. He already knew she would not be into the high chair based on the way even Motley was clinging to him. 

Even now, as she used a spoon to shove waffles in her mouth, she kept a hand on his own arm to keep him close. 

“I’m gonna work on mamas car today.” He explains. “I’ll be right outside. So maybe you girls can stay in here and keep Max company.” 

“I wanna stay with you.” Motley whines, giving him puppy dog eyes. 

“No it’s too cold. You stay in here. Okay?” And then Eddie gave her his puppy dog eyes. Oh yeah, can’t beat dads game. 

She groans and looks at Max who smiles in return. “I’ve been practicing my barbie voices just for you.” 

“Fine! But barbie is married to G.I. Joe! Ken is the villain. We’re not arguing about it again.” 

“But isn’t it Barbie and Ken? Wouldn’t Joe be the villain?” 

“Maxine.” Motley warns, slamming her tiny hand on the table. 

“Fine. Got it.” 

-

It didn’t last long. 

Eddie had put on his mechanic suit, trying to keep warm as he took a look at what was going on with your car. 15 minutes in Motley came out wearing her snowsuit and smiling. “Look daddy! I can help!” 

“I thought I said to stay inside-“ a laugh breaks out when she takes off the hood of the snow suit to reveal that she tied a bandana over her head like a hat. “That’s not how you tie it. Come here.” 

He helps her tie it like his, telling her to sit a little closer to the grass as he keeps working, making sure the radio is on a station she would like as he does so. 

By the time you get home she is making snow angels in the snow of the lawn as he curses under his breath. 

“What’s going on?” You ask, making him jump and hit his head on the hood of your car. “Oh! I’m so sorr-“ 

“It’s good. I’m good.” He laughs, letting you fuss over him anyways. He takes his chance to kiss at you before you are pulling back. 

“You are covered in car nastiness-“ 

“You mean grease and oil?” He laughs, keeping you trapped in his arms to rub his cheek on your shoulder. You yell out playfully, still trying to escape as he does so. 

“Does this mean you guys are good?” Steve appears, dustin behind him. “Are you done being mad at me Y/n?”

“I was never mad at you!” Eddie keeps his arms around you as you turn to look at Steve, making sure Motley is good. 

“Yes you were. I waved at you the other night and you completely ignored me.” 

“I didn’t see you wave.” You reply and Eddie can’t help but laugh. 

“I called your name!”

“It was a busy restaurant, how am I supposed to hear everything.” You scoff, pulling from Eddie’s arms and flipping your hair. “Come on Motley. Let’s go inside.” 

“Just admit you saw me wave!” Steve groans, following you to the door before Motley turns to shove him and close the door in his face. “Rude!” 

“Steve, did you just get beat up by a kid?” Dustin laughs. 

“It’s Eddie’s kid. Does that count?” 

“My kids are great!” 

- 

Things took a moment to get back to normal, but that was to be expected. 

Eddie found the folder of all your research on places to go, running his fingers over the math you sprawled across the pages to figure out how you would afford it, he promptly threw it in the trash bins outside. 

Motley stayed glued to Eddie as much as she could, and in the mornings when he had to get up for work she made sure to wake him up and give him a kiss by the door making sure that he swore to come back before she would dash down the hall and lay with you. 

Makeup Christmas happened, except it was only Wayne that was invited and instead of a whole feast you guys ordered a crap ton of Chinese food. 

Wayne came over early, sneaking around the back and coming in through the back door which confused the girls to no end but they were excited to see their grandpa. 

Ziggy also proved that she learned 2 more words by saying “shit grandpa!” All excited and reaching her hands up for him to grab her. 

He howls with laughter, scooping her up and throwing her in the air as she screams in excitement. 

Everyone sits around the tree opening gifts, Wayne on the couch with Ziggy on his lap helping her open the gifts. Eddie sat by the tree, passing them out with Motley right by him and you next to her. 

He pulls out an envelope that has his name sprawled on it and looks at you. 

“I had a plan for Christmas. But I kind of had to redo it. I planned on giving you the stick, but figured since you already know I’d get the ultrasound.” Yoh blush, watching his excitedly tear it open. 

It’s quiet for a moment as everyone watches him admire the photo, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Anything you notice?” You ask, waiting. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, before Wayne snaps his fingers and grabs the photo gently. 

“There’s two.” Wayne grunts before his eyes light up. “You’re having twins!” 

“Obviously….” Eddie mumbles, “we already knew that?” 

“What?” 

“The stick? It had two blue lines? So that means we’re having twin boys? Right?” Eddie mumbles, staring at you like your crazy. 

It’s quiet for a moment as you and Wayne process what he said before you burst into laughter, the girls following even though they had no clue what was going on. 

“Not even close boy!” Wayne cackles as you have to wipe some of the tears from your eyes. 

“Does that mean you’re pregnant mommy?” Motley asks, turning to look at you with wide eyes. Your heart stops, going back to what Eddie had told you. 

“Yes. Mommy is pregnant .” You wait to see her reaction and Eddie finds himself reaching for the gift he had added two days ago. “Motty. I have something for you.” 

He snatches the tiny box, holding it out to her. “It’s a really important gift though. Okay?” 

She nods slowly, taking the box from him and opening it just as slow. Inside held a simple chain necklace, but when she pulled it out it revealed that he had hung his mothers ring on it, the one he normally wore on his right hand by itself. “I was told to give this ring to someone very special. It’s from my own mom.” 

She gasps, turning to him. “You’re giving it to me?!” 

“Well yeah! You’re my oldest kid. My firstborn.” He laughs, moving to help her put it on. Then he snatches another box and hands it to her. “This one is for both you and your sister.” 

She reaches for it and opens it gently, pulling out a heavy chain that has a dog tag connected to it. “Another necklace?” 

“Well…..” Wayne laughs, flipping it to reveal what the dog tag says. 

“Who is Zeppeplin?” 

“Zeppelin, baby.” You correct, already standing up. 

“Who is Zeppelin?” She giggles, which makes Eddie laugh, picking her up by her armpits to make her stand as you go and open the back door. 

The dog, a young little puppy at most, snaps his head to the noise and wags it’s tail excitedly upon seeing you. 

“Come in!” You smile and he bolts from his spot tearing up sticks to get inside. Once he hits the threshold of the house he is everywhere. Sniffing the fridge to the chairs, jumping on his hind legs to clean up the high chair where Ziggy left her banana. After inhaling that he bolts to explore more, completely missing the living room as he bolts down the hall to sniff all the rooms. 

Once Motley sees the flash of fur she screams in excitement, which draws the puppy back and they both just feed off each others excitement. 

She’s jumping up and down, screaming in excitement and the dog starts howling to match her while his butt starts wiggling at how hard he is wagging his tail. 

“I am so excited for Chinese later.” Wayne murmurs, coming to hug you as Eddie tries to calm both the noisemakers down. “Thank you for inviting me.” 

“Of course, you’re grandpa.” You smile, watching Ziggy from his arms just stare intently at the scene before her. “She can’t tell whether to be excited or scared.” 

Wayne laughs, pointing to the dog and trying to help Ziggy see him. 

Later that evening everyone sits around the table, Max with you all, as you pile Chinese food onto the plates. Motley keeps showing Max the necklace she got while Wayne keeps bragging to Eddie about his new Jean jacket. 

Zeppelin chooses to sit by Ziggy, and it’s very clear that the dog has already figured out who will drop the most food. Ziggy giggles every time she drops a piece of broccoli and he catches it. 

“Now we’re gonna have to watch her every time we give her veggies.” Eddie groans. “She’s got an accomplice!” 

“Zeppy and Ziggy!” Motley cheers like their superheroes. 

- 

February rolls around soon enough, and your daughters biggest catastrophe had nothing to do with the restraining order on Billy, or her dads new bike (which she was terrified of). No. Motleys world was ending over valentines cards. 

Eddie had helped her pick them out, little heart shaped cards that you could stick lollipops in, and had sat with her to write in them as you took Ziggy in for a haircut. 

The only one that Motley had not written a card for was Troy, and now the morning of Valentine’s Day she was still panicking. 

“I can’t write love cause then he will want to get married!” She explains and Eddie nods like it’s super serious. “And I can’t write like, because then he will know I have a crush on him!” 

“Glad you can admit it.” He nods and she rolls her eyes. “Here’s an idea! Okay, you ready metal head?” 

“Ready daddy!” 

“You can write ‘from Motley’.” He laughs, watching her face go serious. 

“That’s what I wrote on the others!” 

“Exactly.” He watches as she thinks about it before nodding quickly and writing it down, tossing it in her valentines box and dashing to grab her backpack. 

“She finally figure out Troys?” You ask, shuffling Ziggy in. “It’s been days.” 

“She did. We decided on writing ‘from motley’.” He smiles, leaning forward to kiss you before leaning down to kiss your stomach then Ziggy. 

“Stevie….” Ziggy giggles, running to the phone. It didn’t take long to figure out that she would be the one to run the phone bill up, even now she spent every morning learning to dial her uncle Steve’s number. She dialed Dustin once but deemed him “poopoo head.” 

“Nuh uh. Come eat pretty girl.” Eddie calls, pointing to her chair. “Zeppelin is waiting.” 

The dog, who just a month ago had been tiny enough to lay under her chair, now sat at full height beside it. Still a puppy, just bigger.  

Ziggy runs, her little pigtails bouncing as Eddie picks her up by the overalls to sit her in the chair. Now trained Ziggy eats his dog food beside her rather than everything she drops, and if somehow someway some of her waffle drops in his bowl then it can’t really be considered his fault. 

“Motley, hurry up baby.” You call. “We gotta go.” 

“You good to pick Wayne up?” Eddie asks, moving to grab his lunch. 

“Yes. I’ll drop Motley off at school and go and grab him.” Wayne had injured his hip, so today you’ll be taking him to the doctors to see what the plan was while Eddie went to work. 

“Okay. And Ziggy is still good to-?” 

“Ziggy and Zeppelin are going to Nancy’s, yes.” You smile. Nancy had just given birth to her third boy, and she liked having Ziggy over because she liked having another girl in the house. 

“Okay. Tell me how it goes?” He asks, leaning to give you one more goodbye kiss as you nod before moving to say bye to Motley. “BYE BEAUTIFUL LADIES!” 

The day had started off so well, you should have known it would only go downhill from there. 

Wayne sat in the passenger seat of your car, irritated and ranting about shitty doctors. “I’m not doing it. You hear me? Just give me some Tylenol and I’ll be fine.” 

“MOMMY!” Ziggy screams, from her spot on her car seat. 

The doctor had told Wayne he needed hip surgery and could not work, which meant that Wayne was pissed and you were panicking about what to do. He couldn’t work which meant he wouldn’t be able to make rent and he would need some help to move around. Then when you got to Steve and Nancy’s she had told you that Ziggy had taken quite a stumble off the table and scratched her chin on the corner of the table. 

It was a mess. 

Both of them were not having a good day and Zeppelin was howling at their ranting and screaming and as much as you loved them you truly debated crashing the car. 

Then you got home to yelling. 

Eddie stood in the living room, still in his work attire with his hands on his hips and his eyes wide. “You’re in rare fucking form today, you know that?!” 

The response to his question is met with a demonic scream from down the hall and you can only assume that Motley was having a bad time as well. 

“I’m not getting a surgery, you hear me Edward?” Wayne snaps, limping to the couch. 

“What the fuck are you on now?” He snaps back, looking at him annoyed as Ziggy rushes past crying. “What the fuck is going on?” 

“It’s apparently a meltdown day.” You sigh, moving to kiss his cheek and go into the kitchen to make a snack for yourself. 

Todays pregnancy craving was potato chips with lime juice and pickles, Eddie watches from the entrance of the kitchen with a smile as you settle at the table and enjoy your snack. 

He moves and takes the seat next to you, following your lead on snacks. 

“Why is Metalhead in ‘rare fucking form’ today?” You giggle, watching his face pinch in annoyance. 

“I pick her up and she gets in the car, right? And then she just starts screaming at me! And I mean screaming. The entire ride home! And from what I gather Vinny didn’t give her a valentines card.” He explains. “God. She was yelling like she was possessed. Then I tried explaining that maybe it was lost and that made it worse.” 

“Did she get one from Troy?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t think she cares either.” He sighs, rubbing his jaw. 

“Okay, we let her ride out the fit in her room. We’ll call Steve later to see what happened.” 

“Sounds great to me.” He smiles. “She scared me a little. Threatened to cut her hair and everything. Then threatened to cut MY hair.” 

A small laugh tears from you as he steals the potato chip in your hand before looking to Wayne’s direction. “They recommend surgery?” 

“It wasn’t a recommendation.” You sigh, grabbing his hand and tracing the tattoo. “I think we need to move the house around.” 

“What?” 

“If Wayne gets surgery he needs to be here. I’ll cut back shifts at the diner and help him out.” You start. “He won’t be able to use the stairs so maybe we can move our room downstairs which would give more room for the twins cribs in our room, but Ziggy has problems with the stairs and she likes coming in to sleep with us cause of the nightmares but-“ 

“Easy. Easy.” Eddie mumbles, turning his hand up quickly to snatch your hand and pull it to his lips. “We’ll figure it out.” 

- 

And so you did. 

Eddie moved the house around, and turned the basement into a bedroom for you guys. Now with more room and your own bathroom down here he could set up the cribs. 

Wayne took your old room, and though the man threw a fit the girls got excited that Grandpa Wayne would be living here now. 

He got the surgery in the beginning of March, and Motley and Vinny were still fighting. 

You spent your days helping Wayne, taking him to pt and helping him move around the house. 

Motley and Vinny got put into separate classes which lead to a whole argument between Steve and Eddie about whose kid was the one to blame. 

Life was a bit of a mess. 

It all came to head at the children's father dance. 

Eddie had dressed in a tux, making sure he looked good as you got Motley ready for the night. With Wayne napping on the couch with Ziggy asleep on his chest drooling (a daily nap these two took) Zeppelin follows at your feet, keeping close to you as you did Motley's hair. 

“How do I look?” Eddie asks from the door of the bathroom. “I have a date tonight and I’m really nervous.”

“Daddy!” Motley giggles, rushing to him in her puffy little skirt, hugging him tightly. 

“Alright you two. Let me get a picture.” You smile, rushing past to find where the camera had gone. By the time you got a picture of them Motley was rushing Eddie out, ready for the dance. 

He struggles to find parking, and ends up finding one right next to Steve’s car, rolling his eyes when he sees Harrington fixing his jacket while Vinny reads in the car. 

“Harrington.” He greets coldly, fixing his leather jacket and moving to open the door for his daughter. 

“Munson.” Steve matches the tone, scoffing at Eddie’s jacket. “Little Munson.” 

“Uncle Steve.” She huffs, fixing her hair. 

“Really? A leather jacket Edward?” 

“You look like you stepped off a Queen music video, Steven.” Eddie snaps, holding out his hand for Motley. Fighting or not they wait at the front of the car for Steve and Vinny. Walking into the dance together. 

“I’m surprised that they even let you in here. Your child is a danger to society.” Steve snaps as they wait in line for tickets. 

“Let’s talk about your kid giving everyone but my sweet Angel a valentines card. That’s barbaric.” Eddie defends, watching Motley wave to her friends. 

“He didn’t want to. And I don’t need to tell him what to do.” Steve blushes, turning to look at something to avoid looking at Eddie. 

“There it is again. You’re acting so fucking suspicious about that card, man.” Eddie points at him, silver rings glinting in the light. “Tell me what you know.” 

“Tickets?” The poor woman asks, interrupting their stand off. 

“Yes please. Four.” 

“No two. I’ll get my tickets.” 

“No I’ll get them” 

“You’re not buying me ,Steven.” 

“He’s buying me.” Motley smiles, snatching the money from Steve’s hands and setting them on the table before grabbing two tickets. “Let’s go get some pop, daddy.” 

Eddie can do nothing but follow, letting the little lady lead the way. 

After about an hour of Motley showing him everything and introducing him to all her friends she abandoned him to hang out with some of the girls in her class, making sure Eddie was okay where he sat at an empty table nursing a can of soda. 

It felt like high school again, watching the way all the other dads surrounded Harrington as the pta moms that decorated huddled together and giggled in the corner. At least the kids were having fun. 

Eddie wished you were here, you would be sitting with him. 

“Jesus. Gary never shuts up.” Steve mumbles, snapping Eddie out of his train of thought. “I got you a slice of pizza.” 

He sets the slice down, giving Eddie a weird smile as he scarfs down his own slice. But eddie wasn’t very hungry, instead he surveyed to check on motley and see her giggling with all her friends as they dance in a circle. 

“Your kid has been sitting alone, you gonna help?” Eddie asks, looking to where Vinny sits reading a book. 

“I tried earlier. He just said something about me embarrassing him more.” Steve sighs. “Then complained that I ruin everything.” 

“What happened? I’ve never seen him alone at a party.” 

“Have I not told you? Your daughter is the popular one. They made her move classes and he was left in their old class struggling to make friends.” Steve mumbles. 

“Why don’t you get one of the many dads following you around to get their kids over there? It feels like I’m in highschool again, waiting for your cronies to shove me in the bathrooms and lock me in again.”

“How long were you in that bathroom, again? Two hours?” 

“Three.” Eddie sighs. “I smoked and set off an alarm so the principal found me.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Wasnt one of your worst. I was fine.” Eddie shrugs. “Sorry about Vinny.” 

“I have faith.” Steve sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I also cannot believe I’m at a daddy daughter dance.” 

“It’s a father kid dance?” 

“They didn’t want the boys feeling left out.” Steve explains. 

“I see.” Eddie smiles, picking at the pizza. 

“He wrote one. You know?” 

“Sorry?” 

“Vinny wrote one. He wrote a valentine for Motley and got her a big chocolate bar. But a girl made fun of him in the parking lot and he panicked.” Steve explains. “Ripped it up and left the chocolate on my car to melt on the seats.” 

“I can clean that.” 

“You can?!” 

“Oh yeah. I got you Harrington.” Eddie laughs right as another dad comes to the table. 

“Howdy gentleman.” He smiles, sitting down. Eddie has to blink to recognize, holy shit that’s Tommy. “Oooo. I’m sitting at the hellfire table. So scary…” 

“Do you have a kid here…?” Steve asks, blinking slowly. 

“Yeah.” He slurs, pointing to the young kid stuffing his face with marshmallows.  “You guys want some whiskey?” 

“Jesus. I smell it from here man.” Steve snaps, standing up. 

“I’m driving. Hard pass.” Eddie laughs, standing with Steve. 

“It’s so weird to me that you two are friends! That shit is like….. mind flowing!” 

“Blowing.” Steve corrects and Eddie sighs. “Damn it Harrington. It was a trap.” 

“Blowing is more for you guys, if you know what I mean.” Tommy laughs and Eddie shakes his head. 

“How did you fall for that Harrington? You made that line.” Eddie grumbles, moving to find Motley. “Hey Metalhead?” 

“Yeah daddy?” She asks, coming up with her cheeks bright red from all the dancing. 

“Have you eaten?” He asks, offering her a bite of his pizza before looking back over to Vinny. “Think you can go help him out?” 

“Yeah. I guess.” She sighs, kissing his cheek and rushing to find Vinny and bring him out to dance. 

By the end of the night Eddie has danced to about every little pop song she wants, and by the time he is bringing her to the car it’s more of a carrying her situation as Steve tries to trip Vinny up. 

“Have a good night Harringtons.” Eddie laughs. 

“Sleep tight Munsons.” 

- 

“Shouldn't you be in bed?” Eddie asks, peering up at you over his book as you shuffle and pace around the room. 

“Shut up.” You grunt, waving your hand at him. Your face is pinched up and Eddie finds himself sitting up and staring at you. 

“What’s going on here?” 

“Edward shut UP!” You snap, pacing back to the wall and holding your hands against it to try and breathe in. “Sorry. Sorry that was mean.” 

“Are you in pain?” He mumbles, standing up and putting on his slippers. 

It was your ninth month, and Eddie was anxious because he had never experienced the pregnancy part of it all before so every kick and movement made him worried. 

“Eddie. Edward. Eds.” You grunt out, and right there something trickles down your leg. 

“Did you just pee?” 

“EDWARD!” 

(Would you guys want me to keep going? I have more ideas {Especially Motley in high school} Feel free to message me if you want me to keep going or if you have any blurbs or requests for them in mind)

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[leavemurph]

sometimes i get so upset thinking what if hotch wants to come back cuz like jack’s in college and he’s home all the time, he’d need something to do?? and the fact that the writers still didn’t use this one excuse to bring him back to emily is just… ugh.

a few comments here and there about his life while he was gone, laughing with old friends who are still friends no matter what, teasing him cuz he tries to call his son and gets constantly ignored with the “dad, please, i’m busy”. then jj’s like, oh yeah, i get it, teenagers gonna be teenagers, and emily’s kinda feeling left out? but it’s cool. it’s just that time’s passing and she doesn’t have that for herself, which is strange, since she always thought she would. but then again, time sucks, this job takes so much, and yeah, maybe it’s too late.

no kids, nope, well, she’s busy. really busy. this thought keeps looping in her head, and a few situations end up making her rethink it, over and over—did i do this on purpose? did i avoid making any decisions that could’ve taken me down that path because, deep down, i felt like i didn’t deserve it?

hotch finds her in her office, asks if she’s okay because she seems so distracted all the time. of course, she doesn’t say anything, she’s not big on venting, but she does ask him if he ever thought about what it’d be like if they’d made it differently all those years ago.

he’s… confused at first, mostly because he’s not sure if this is her way of allowing them to talk about all the stuff they never said, couldn’t say, or were too scared to. so he asks, what do you mean? emily’s tired of dancing around it, they’re older now, more mature, there’s not much left to lose, so she just says, “you knew how i felt about you. that’s fine. i know how you felt about me.” hotch gives her a small smile, and she gets it. she really gets it. “i can’t believe i even considered going with you. like, a part of me really wanted to, so badly. i talked to you about work every day, told you things you didn’t even want to hear, didn’t care. and i kept hoping, hoping that one day you’d ask me to, or even just… i don’t know, say you missed me. my god, i would’ve dropped everything, run off into witness protection. with you. with jack.”

“emily.” hotch looks genuinely surprised, and maybe it’s because she’s holding back tears. “you had all these things here, things you built for yourself. look at you now.”

“right,” she mutters, waving it off with a comment about their previous case, because why get into that now? it’s a waste of time.

aaand…

they kiss for the first time on new year’s, in their natural habitat—at work, of course. everyone but emily is ready to party, but at midnight, hotch brings her a glass of champagne while she’s scribbling reports. she looks up and says, “are you guys going out? i’m gonna have to pass this time, i’m so busy,”

and he laughs because, “you sound like me ten years ago,” while gently coaxing her out of her chair. she tries not to freak out, laughing nervously, rolling her neck to release the tension from hours of sitting and staring at fine print. hotch brushes her hair back, studying her face, and she lets out a deep sigh, touching her tongue to the corner of her mouth. “a little nervous?” he asks, a smile tugging at his lips. “still the same tell, huh? some things never change.”

“i really can’t go with you guys,” she insists, eying his lips, almost on the edge of feeling butterflies for the first time in over a decade.

“heard you the first time. so i’ll be your first new year’s kiss, and then i’ll get out of your hair.” okay, butterflies all the way down to her toes. she barely nods, just a slight movement, before he leans in and kisses her. it’s the best kiss she’s ever had, hands down. my god, she can’t stop thinking about it.

he literally left her to do her job and went out partying with the others. he’s learned to live more than she has over these years, and honestly, it’s not bad. it’s not terrible. it’s nice.

their relationship grows through little moments scattered throughout the season—tender touches, good morning kisses, emily jumping out of bed late, the looks they share. they talk about the moments they’ve lived, the times they wanted to say something and didn’t, or do something and held back. “do you remember that time we…?”

the first time emily faces any life-threatening situation, hotch’s immediate reaction when he sees her getting her cheek stitched up is: “that was really brave of you to do.”

“hotch,” she winces, frowning through the pain as the stitch hurts. “really?”

“okay, what, are you out of your mind? didn’t you wait for backup?”

“that’s much better, thank you. and, no, it’d be too late.”

“almost died,” he crosses his arms, and emily is doing everything she can not to bite her nails. “i’m gonna need you to marry me. is that okay with you?”

and emily’s like, “what?”

“you heard me right. i want you, and i want to do this, all of it. you’ve always wanted kids, and you’ve been thinking about it, don’t lie to me, and it’s not too late. and we’re gonna do it, you and i. there’s surrogacy, adoption… we can—”

yeahh…. so.

gimme gimme.

bye.

[writercole]

A Real Rancher

Summary: A night of relaxing leads to the promise of more. Words: 1366 Warnings: Fluff Credits: None, really. Unbeta'd. A/N: I have no idea where this came from. But it flew out of me last night and I have no regrets. A/N 2: For Becca Bear.

The birth of the last calf brought the total up to fifteen, just this fortnight. The life of a rancher, his life, made Rhett happy. Little moments like the first steps of the tiniest animals that would grow into thousand pound beasts made him smile. But he could admit that the ranch life wasn’t for everyone.

Like the girl who just ghosted him.

Or the one before who said that she couldn’t handle the hours he worked.

Or even the one before that who didn’t like that he smelled like manure when he came in from work.

Women were ridiculous. It’s not like they had to do the work. It’s not like he didn’t shower after he came in. But they used it as an excuse to leave rather than giving him half a chance.

Rhett made sure the heifer and the calf were healthy and cared for before heading back up to the ranch house, looking at the setting sun and deciding he needed a drink. But first, a shower. Maybe two.

As he walked into the dingy dive bar, he immediately noticed a woman at the end of the bar, her glasses low on her nose, a pencil in one hand and what looked like a business document in the other, though that document was about five hundred pages, if he had to guess. He ordered his usual and headed to his usual table, sitting back in the corner and letting the stresses and tensions of the day melt away as he listened to the old juke box across the room and sipped his drink.

Two more rounds and he was feeling great, watching the people in the bar come alone and leave together, passing the time with a spin around the dance floor or giggles in the far corner. He noticed that the woman he’d noticed at first was still there, furiously scribbling notes on her...whatever. Strands of hair fell out of her messy bun and her lip tucked beneath her front teeth. Her brow furrowed and Rhett chuckled.

Her head snapped up and she looked around, eyes locking on Rhett, and jumped off of her stool. He shifted in his seat as he clocked her making a beeline straight to him, suddenly feeling very aware of the fact that he was staring at her. She stopped in front of him at the table and he could see that she wasn’t angry, she was curious.

“Are you a rancher?” She rushed out.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Like a real rancher, not one of those preppy boys whose daddy owns a lot of cattle but has people who do the work for them. You’re the one who does the work?”

“Uh, yes ma’am,” he replied, his own brow furrowing beneath his stetson. “I’m Rhett Abbott. My family’s own the ranch for generations now.”

“Oh, good,” she sighed as she pulled out a chair across from him, “can I ask you some questions? Oh, shoot, my pencil.” She patted her pockets and checked behind her ears, coming up empty handed.

“Um, ma’am? It’s in your hair?” Rhett said, pointing at her bun.

“Oh!” She exclaimed as she pulled it out of the space he pointed at.

“Can I ask what these questions are for?”

“Well, I’m writing a book and this one character is a rancher and I just don’t think I’ve gotten him right and – oh shit. How do I keep losing everything?”

“You left the...book? On the bar.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” she told him before rushing across the room and grabbing the papers she’d been making notes on.

Rhett was entirely entranced with this woman. He’d never met a writer before, not that Wabang had a great intellectual population to begin with.

She sat back at the table and flipped her notebook to a clean page, writing his name across the top before returning her gaze to him.

“It’s two t’s,” he pointed out.

“Huh?”

“Abbott. It’s two b’s, two t’s,” he explained, gesturing to his name written across her page.

“Oh, sorry.”

“S’okay,” he shrugged. “So these questions?”

“This guy works on a ranch and he’s got to do cow stuff and I don’t know the first thing about being on a ranch or cows or anything like that and I was hoping that you could maybe, possibly, tell me about the stuff you do for cows?” She spoke quickly, like she was expecting him to get bored with her voice in the time it took for her to ask her question.

“That’s a pretty broad question,” he laughed, “do you have anything more specific?”

“No,” she sighed. “Like I said, I don’t know the first thing about being on a ranch or anything. The closest I’ve come to a cow is the petting zoo.”

Rhett gestured for another round for the two of them and settled back against the wall. “Well, darlin, let’s get you learned.”

The pair of them spent the rest of the night talking, only realizing how long it had been when the lights came up and the bartender announced last call. Their topics had drifted from the work on the ranch to much more personal topics. He learned that she had quit her job and moved to Wabang to follow her dreams of writing a contemporary romance set in the west. When he questioned why she had to move out to the absolute sticks to do that, she looked down at the table.

“No one supported me. They thought I was wasting my time writing. It was never a worthy career path because who wants to read a book anymore,” she admitted quietly.

Rhett felt more emotion flow through him in that moment than he had since Amy had disappeared. He was pissed at people who told her it was a waste of time, sorry for her feeling like she had no one, hopeful that she would give him half a chance. “Well, if it makes any difference, I think you’re doing an amazing thing.”

“Really?” She asked, her face going from dejection to elation in an instant. Her shoulders squared and her eyes lit up, as if she was hearing someone tell her positive things for the first time.

“Yeah. It’s not easy to follow your dreams, especially when they lead you away from the people you care about,” he spoke from experience, “and to do something like writing a book...man, that takes guts and brains and all kinds of stuff I definitely don’t have.”

“But...you ride bulls?”

“That doesn’t take any brains, darlin. In fact, it takes a distinctive lack of brains and self preservation.”

“Um, no,” she countered. “That takes so much brains, Rhett.”

“Hey, you two, we’re closing,” the bartender called across the otherwise empty room.

“Can I drive you back to your room?” Rhett asked as he stood.

“It’s a short walk. I’m next door,” she shrugged sadly.

“Well, how about I leave you my number and you can call me with your questions. Maybe come by the ranch tomorrow and see how things go?”

“Can I pet the cows?!”

“I’ll make sure to keep them in the barn just for you,” he grinned. He wrote his number down on her book and offered his arm, escorting her to the small inn next door.

“I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“I’ll make sure to answer.”

“Goodnight, Rhett. It was really nice to meet you,” she said with a wave, walking through the thick, wooden door into her temporary accommodations.

Rhett watched until the door clicked shut, walking backwards to his truck just in case she came back down. A light turned on in a room over his head as he opened the door and his glance shot up in time to see her pull back the curtain and peek outside, waving when she caught him staring. He waved back, watching until she dropped the curtain before he climbed into his truck.

The idea to sleep in the parking lot crossed his mind for half a second before he started the engine, turning his truck towards home. He had an early date with a writer. The cows had to be ready.

[livewithyura]

Hai, Darling 😘

Since your request is open ✨

May i've a request for Jin Kazama,Lee Chaolan,Lars Alexanderson, with sexy fem reader Who has a sassy attitude, likes to tease, fem is so elegant,cheerfull and has long wavy cherry pink hair.

Sorry, if the characters I requested are too many for you. I don't see the number of character slots for your request. I'm sorry 🙏🥺

( Lee! , Lars! , Jin! ) | Tekken x Fem readers "We 'love' without reason"

❒ ⁀➷ Answer : Hi! Yes your idea is literally refreshing and don't worry about the characters! I will write as much as I can , Thank you for requesting! Hope you enjoy this little scribble .

❒⁀➷ Context : They don't know how they end up with you , a sassy and elegant woman . But they know having you by their side it's worth it . I also just watched 'anyone but you'! This scribble also took a lot of inspiration from that rom-com movie .

❒ ⁀➷ Request and collab is still open! ( pls do check my rules and requirements before request ) | ( slow update for now! )

Lars Alexanderson

You are a publicist, previously hired by Lee to ensure that Yggdrassil is always portrayed positively in the public eye.

Lars's the leader of the rebel army, so essentially, he's your client . You consistently offer your opinion, challenging Lars's ideas and proposing better alternatives .

He once 'awkwardly' asked you to join the rebel army but you decline . "I don't want to ruin my pink nails," you joked , that make Lars chuckle

You two grow closer as Lars's gentlemanly demeanor melts your heart, and he adores your personality. Together, you decide to take your relationship to the next level. After the defeat of G-corporation, Lars proposes to you with a bouquet of pink roses. "This flower . It remind me of you , (Y/N) . Please give me a chance to make you the happiest woman alive"

Lars decides to keep your relationship secret to the public eye, given his leadership in the rebel army and his desire to protect you. Even Lee, Alisa, or Jin are unaware of the intimacy between you two.

You're his employee in front of his work mate . He act serious and professional when he want to talk to you . But when you guy have a private moment , he take care of you like a princess . "You're my publicist in their eyes , but in private you're my princess" He said kneel down while adjusting your red heels .

LARS AND (Y/N) literally have SECRET MEETINGS , THE EYE CONTACT IN PUBLIC , SHARING HIDDEN KISSES and SUBTLY BRUSHING EACH OTHER'S HAND ( Lee was suspicious at first because Lars bought a Pink Perfume , Pink dresses and Pink roses . But Lars gave him a good excuses . )

Bonus ! ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Sweet Scenarios! ( Lars's version )

Lars leads the rebel army so his schedule is packed. He often arrives home late at night to find you on the sofa, wearing a strawberry face mask. His heart warms knowing you waited up for him.

He softly runs his fingers through your hair, whispering sweet things about you shyly. "You don't need to wait up for me. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, my love," he says, nuzzling the side of your hair and planting a gentle kiss. "Your scent is always captivating," he whispers again. Just inhaling your sweet aroma instantly melts away his stress.

You wake up with a gasp. "Lars! You scared me, and you almost ruined my beautiful night routine" you say, readjusting your face mask that nearly slipped off. "Oh my love, I can make your night routine more...entertaining," he says, a smirk playing on his lips. You playfully slap him with your satin pillow. "Uh-huh, whatever. Where's my sushi?"

He freezes, realizing he forgot to buy you sushi, the late-night snack he promised. "Love, I... we have instant ramen at home," he stutters, gently holding your shoulders. You squint at him. "I'm on a diet" you remind him.

"It's okay! I know your rebel army is waaaaayy more important , I understand!" With a sarcastic tone , you walked away from the living room.

Unable to bear the thought of seeing your distressed eyes, he rushes to Lee's house at 2 AM just to prepare sushi for you. Luckily, Lee's place is stocked with luxurious ingredients, "Lars? What's this for?" "Sorry Lee , It's for my own satisfaction"

And by 3 AM, he manages to whip up the sushi. Returning to your shared apartment, he presents you with the sushi, apologizing, "Sorry, my love. I'll make sure this doesn't happen again." He gently takes your hand, kissing your knuckles tenderly.

"I love you , captain" you said , try to tease him and all the blood in his body rush through his cheek . "Ah? Are you blushing? Did I get the total-badass-side-character , justice-muscle-man blush?" You try to tease him for a second time .

"Ah, well... How could anyone not blush when they receive compliments from such a majestic woman like you?" He scratch his head , not looking at your eyes .

"I just want you to know that you're one of my top priority [Y/N] , You're waaaaaayy more important than my life" Lars wrapped his arm around your waist while giving you a kiss on the back of your neck .

Lee Chaolan

You're a professor at the Violet System. You're aware of his playboy reputation and his frequent outings with different girls. Sometimes, you're unsure which one is his girlfriend. Of course, one day, you catch the CEO's attention with your elegant presence.

He attempts to catch your attention, but you consistently ignore him to assert your identity. You refuse to succumb to his charm, aware that he might eventually lose interest and pursue another girl. Ironically, this only fuels Lee's desire for you. "I bought this necklace for you. I think it will look perfect on you!" he offers. "Oh? Who told you to buy that?" you tease, giving him a knowing smirk. "Um , this is not 'excellent'' He mumble , because you feel bad you just accept the expensive necklace .

"You can't leave this lab without letting me take you home tonight. sweet little thing," he insists while winking at you , okay he's little bit annoying but he knows your taste . He pick a beautiful present for a woman "Yea sure" You said "YES! EXCELLENT! Let's go!"

After a few dates, you find yourself drawn to his personality. You share many things together. Whether it's skincare, makeup, or fashion, he's always there to advise you. He knows the perfect skincare routine, the ideal makeup shades for you, and he surrounds you with new outfits that suit your style. One morning, you wake up to find yourself snuggled up with him on his million-dollar couch. It dawns on you that you've already fallen for him.

Lee surprises you by publicly announcing your relationship, declaring, "Everybody! This pretty woman over here is the love of my life!" This bold move catches you off guard, as he has never been so open about his relationship before. He also make a big deal about you , he make it completely obvious you're the one he want in his entire life . [ He also like to FLEX you in front of lars , telling lars that you're the one who design the latest armor suit ]

While you're together, you both have manicures, go to the salon, and even have shopping sprees. "We're so slay, Lee," you remark, admiring your matching vintage outfits with him. "Excellent!" Then, he takes a picture of the two of you. [ MIRROR SELFIEEE ]

After the G-Corp defeated , HE SPOILS YOU TOO MUCH . GIVE YOU A LITTLE KISS IN FRONT OF EVERYONE . ALWAYS HUGGING YOUR WAIST/HOLDING YOUR HANDS . WHISPER YOU A SWEET THINGS , TELL YOU THAT YOU'RE ALWAYS LINGERS ON YOUR MIND . HE PLAYS WITH YOUR HAIR . RANDOM WALKS WHEN YOU GUYS HAVE A FREE TIME . "Excellent [Y/N]" "Hm what? My make up? Hair? dres--" "Just you darling , Your existence" "AWEE LEE--" you smack his arm with your purse .

Bonus ! ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Sweet Scenarios! [ Lee's version ]

Lee decides to take you on a trip after his schedule is packed with war-related matters. You're relieved that he survived the war despite sustaining a slight injury. The night before your trip to Manhattan, you're patching up his injury while he looks at you with softened eyes. "I'm sorry for giving you a hard time when I was away, sweet [y/n]," he says.

"Phew! At least the world is saved," You said , Lee caressing his girlfriend's cheek. "Don't kiss me, I have a lip scrub on," she jokes. "Hm~ I know!" he replies, stopping. "Do you want to buy something before our trip, baby?" She hums, thinking about her ideas. "Let's go to the convenience store!"

Lee and you made a way to the small convenience store that was open 24/7. It was your tradition with your boyfriend, a secret adventure that you guys shared . Lee's always unserious and you adore his personality , You guys always seeking out the most ridiculous items that you guys could find.

Lee giggled as she spotted a display of neon-colored sunglasses. "Babe!, look at these! We could start a new trend!" Lee's arms wrapped around her waist from behind, surprising her. You gasped and turned, only to burst into laughter at the sight of him wearing the neon-colored sunglasses.

As you guys roamed the aisles, you guys picked up items at random, creating a pile of the most absurd things ; a rubber chicken, a glow-in-the-dark frisbee, a tiny umbrella with a pineapple pattern, and a pack of glow sticks.

You help up up box of instant noodles . "Do we need this?" You asked, raising an eyebrow. Lee covered your left cheek with a quick kiss "Well babe, you never know when a late-night noodle craving might strike!" He whispers .

"Lee , why are you buying that?" "What do you mean babe! It's good" "Both of us don't know how to cook dumbass and we're just going to eat at the restaurant---" He shuts you with a quick-kiss again and he run away with the trolley . "Lee!"

"They made their way to the checkout counter, their arms full of their strange purchases. The cashier, a sleepy-looking teenager, raised an eyebrow at their selection but didn't comment. As they walked out of the store, Lee slipped his hand into [Y/N]'s, their fingers intertwining. "I love our late-night adventures," she said softly.

"I'm glad you enjoy it , sweet [Y/N]," He replied, squeezing your hand.

Jin Kazama

You were one of Jin's juniors in high school. Whenever you passed each other, he felt an uncanny connection to you. Unbeknownst to him, your family was associated with a traditional exorcist in Japan. Jin had always had a 'slight' crush on you, but he never admitted it. He didn't want to dampen your spirit, so before leaving school to pursue martial arts, he gave you an anonymous love letter expressing his feelings towards you .

A few years have passed, and G-corp has been defeated. You continue your life as an entrepreneur. One day, you enter a coffee shop and order a double shot espresso, trying to resume your daily routine after the war. "Sorry, we only accept cash this morning," the cashier says, rolling her eyes at you. Surprised, you look back at the long queue behind you, waiting for you to pay. You don't notice Jin's presence, as it's been a long time since high school.

"Sorry I left my other cash in the car can you---" "ONE HOT CAPPUCINO FOR MR ISAYAMA" All the worker ignores you . "Honey,I told you already about this . We're not going to separate our bills anymore" Jin stepping in and pay the coffee for you . You looked at him , tilting your head trying to remember his face .

"I don't know you're such a good actor , Kazama" you give him a little tease , leaving the busy coffee shop together with Jin . Jin just stood silently while chugging his peppermint tea . "Thank you , that was nice by the way!" you smiles at him , "My pleasure" he replied shortly.

As you're about to leave, Jin stops you. "Well, this is my number. Can't leave my 'girlfriend' just like that," he says with a smirk. You're surprised, looking at him incredulously. "Oh, I didn't know this big, bulky, emo man had feelings? We'll keep in touch, big man," you reply, tapping his shoulder playfully.

From that , you guys keep in touch with each other . Then Jin confessed to you , he stand in front of your apartment with a big stuffed animal , he carries it until he reach your apartment . "Can I win your heart, [Y/N]? I hope it's as easy as winning this big bear at the amusement park. Just give me a chance," Jin says earnestly , How could you say no to that?

After that, you always teased him about his romantic gestures. He couldn't say anything but blush. "You're such a sweet and caring person, Kazama. If you had told me this before you left that school, we would have gotten together faster," you said teasingly. "Yeah… whatever," he replied, turning around to continue preparing your breakfast.

Even though Jin doesn't speak openly about his feelings for you, you can feel them through his actions. Jin embodies the idea of 'Everyone thinks LOVE is for show, but I'll DIE you in secret' . He's obsessed with physical closeness , PUTTING YOU ON TOP HIS CHEST HEARING HIS HEARTBEAT . HUGGING ALL THE TIME . You will sit on the couch and HE WILL STROKING YOUR HAIR AND KISS YOU EVERYWHERE . HE WILL BUY YOU YOUR FAVORITE FOOD/DRINKS . LEARNING EVERY SINGLE DETAILS ABOUT YOU .

He learns the art of makeup just for you, trying to buy you three different lipsticks and blushers, even though they might not be in your shade but this time it would suit you and your pink hair. He's a bit embarrassed confronting the cashier in the makeup store. "Ah, I never expected a guy with whole six-pack to come here. Is this for your girlfriend?" she asks, but Jin doesn't reply and leaves the store with all the makeup for you.

Bonus ! ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Sweet Scenarios! [ Jin's version! ]

Jin decided have a hiking trip at his hometown with you , he want to have a graceful moment with his girlfriend . He walked ahead, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pointed out various plants and animals along the way, his love for nature evident in every step.

You, on the other hand, trailed behind, your expression a mix of awe and annoyance. You swatted at a pesky mosquito and wrinkled your nose at the sight of a muddy puddle. "Remind me again why we're doing this?" you grumbled, trying to avoid stepping in a particularly muddy patch.

Jin grabbed your waist "Don't worry princess , it would be fine . I'm here with you" He whisper to your ear , you just squinted your eyes while looking at his face . "Jin , answer my question" You said , Jin tucked your hair gently as he looked at you with a smile . "Because nature has a way of rejuvenating the soul," he replied, his voice filled with reverence. "It's important to connect with the earth and appreciate its beauty. And I want to experience it with you . The love of my life"

"I could appreciate it just fine from the comfort of a spa," you said. Jin chuckled softly. "You always make that face when you're tired," he said, pinching your cheek. You followed him silently, a red mark on your face. Like always, he remembered every single detail about you.

"Don't worry, we'll have your first favorite cereal, the one you used to eat when you were 5," he assures you." Hm? I wonder what flavor is that?" You teased , he smirks , Knowing the answer "Cinnamon Toast Crunch" . You lose it , this man always melt you away with demeanor .

As you guys reached a picturesque overlook, Jin taking in the breathtaking view of the valley below. "Isn't it magnificent?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with awe while holding your hand .

You couldn't help but be moved by the beauty of the scene before her.."It is," you admitted quietly, a hint of wonder in her voice.

You sat down on a nearby rock, the silence of the morning enveloping you and Jin. "Thank you , for showing me the beauty of nature and bugs..." You said ,

Jin widened his eyes after he noticed a little bump on your arm . "Princess, are you okay? Does it hurt? Is it bothering you? Do you want to go down right now?" "Jin asks, his concern evident though he doesn't express it too obviously. "It's fine, We can have a moment before we go down to meet your mom" You said , Jin just nods agree with you .

"[Y/N]" "Yes?" . Jin coughs , try to clear his voice . "You know what else is beautiful?" "What?" "You" . And after those words, you tease him all day.

˚˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ All right reserved , written by livewithyura , why you want to copy this crap? You can reblog!

[jackhues]

christmas mornings - jack hughes

prompt: jack proposing to you under the christmas tree

requested by: @bordeleau : )

notes: this was really cute, i'm super happy about how this turned out! thanks for requesting <3

tags: @woodruff-edwards <3 join my taglist!

gif not mine!

on christmas morning, you woke up to kisses. you scrunched your nose up, making a noise to try and push jack away. he ignored you, peppering kisses over your face.

“i’m up, i’m up,” you muttered, finally opening your eyes.

jack grinned at you, finally awake. you tried to narrow your eyes at him, but it was hard to stay mad when he smiled like that.

“hi,” he couldn’t seem to stop smiling. “let’s go open our presents!”

you laughed as he carried you out of bed, bridal style, towards the living room.

“wait, wait! i need to brush my teeth!” you protested. “put me down! jack!”

“do you really have to do that now?” he groaned. “can’t it wait?”

“no,” you rolled your eyes. “put me down now.”

“fine,” he groaned, setting you down.

you laughed to yourself as you made your way to the washroom to brush your teeth. the two of you were spending christmas in new jersey, since the devils schedule was too stacked for you to make the trip to michigan. 

since it was just the two of you this year, you decided to keep it smaller than usual. with a mini christmas tree and some festive lights, you guys decided it was enough. you’d much rather spend the day with him than fuss about the decorations.

after brushing your teeth, you made your way to the living room still in your pajamas. jack was sitting expectantly under the christmas tree like you’d expected. 

you grinned, giving him a quick kiss.

“you sure you don’t want to eat breakfast first?” you asked. “we’ve got waffles.”

“i’m not that hungry, you?” he asked.

you shook your head. “there’s not a lot of presents anyways. might as well open the few we’ve got.”

“okay, but open mine first!” jack said, rummaging through the few boxes, pulling out a small one.

you laughed at his enthusiasm, taking the box from him. it was rectangular-shaped, most likely carrying some picture of you two in a case of some sort. jack knew you cared about the sentiment more than the price, and this was how he managed to make both of you happy.

“wait!” he shouted suddenly, remembering something as soon as you were about to open the present.

“yes?” you asked, raising a brow.

“you need to be standing like… this!” he said, helping you up and adjusting you to make you face the kitchen.

“is there a reason i’m standing facing the kitchen?” you asked as jack went to stand behind you.

“uh… yeah, yeah. you need to face the kitchen for this to work,” you could practically hear him nodding as his head from where he stood behind you.

you weren’t sure if that was true or a convenient excuse, but you shrugged to yourself. “can i open it now?”

“um… yes, now you can open it!” he said.

you still couldn’t see him, so you had to trust that whatever he had planned was working out how he wanted it to.

“okay…” you smiled, unwrapping the present.

you froze at the velvet box that lay underneath. it was a blue so dark it almost looked black - your favourite colour. your heart sped up at the thought of what lay inside it.

“you can open the box,” jack said from behind you, his voice soft.

too stunned to do anything else, you nodded dumbly, opening the box. in place of a ring was a small note. you took it out and unfolded it, recognizing jack’s handwriting. normally scribbly and illegible, he’d made an effort for this. even drawing a little heart.

turn around <3

you turned, your hands flying to your mouth in surprise, even though you knew jack was going to be on one knee. he held a ring in his hands, smiling up at you and looking much more nervous than this morning.

“yes,” you said, even though he hadn’t asked anything yet.

jack laughed a bit, “no, wait. i’ve got a speech. but it’s nice to know your answer from before.”

you laughed, crying even though this was the happiest you’d ever been in your life.

“y/n, you’ve been my girlfriend for three years,” he began, tearing up slightly. you didn’t blame him, considering you were trying to hide your own sobs. “but you’ve also been more than that: my best friend, the person who makes me laugh, the person who orders takeout in advance when i cook, the person who’s been there for me even when i didn’t know i needed it. y/n, i’ve loved you for a long time, and i can’t imagine my life without you. i don’t want to. so, y/f/n y/l/n, will you marry me?”

you laughed through the tears, nodding your head. “yes.”

he slipped the ring on your finger, catching you as you fell to your knees, the two of you on the floor in front of your christmas tree.

“i don’t think you can ever top this christmas present.”

[radiowallet]

Home

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Marcus Moreno Summary: Dieter takes Marcus to a party in the valley. WC: 4.5K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Sexual content. Exclusive M/M dynamics. Written in third-person POV, male protagonists. Anal sex, dirty talk, kissing, cum play, semi-public sex. Small angsty moments. Yearning. So much yearning. AU Marcus Moreno (no wife, no Missy). A lot of purple prose and waxing poetic.

A/N: Hi, hello, it's been a very very long time since I've shared any writing here. I don't have any good excuses other than real-life stressors, mental health and anxiety, and the overall stress of being on Tumblr really really got to me. I'm trying to ease my way back in. Slowly. I've really enjoyed catching up on all the amazing fics you guys have been writing. Thank you to everyone, still here or otherwise. Even when I was off dealing with irl stuff, I could feel the support.

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For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

Marcus chewed at his nail bed, surveying the house from the backseat of his Uber. It was hardly the first time he’d pulled up to the Sherman Oaks home. He was comfortable with the routine at this point. Tapping in the code for the front gate with practiced ease. The same one Dieter had scribbled onto the back page of a forgotten script after that first night together in New York City, his cell ringing incessantly from his back pocket, a car waiting down the curb to whisk him away. Marcus swore he could still taste the mint and menthol on the actor’s breath when he stepped in close and pressed the paper into his hands, kissing him until his toes curled. 

“Please say you’ll come visit.”

After that, it had been one strategically planned visit after the other. Marcus was almost mathematical in his process, arranging flights out west around his patrol schedule, switching shifts, and taking on extra duties just to rationalize the time away. Burning the candle at both ends but not caring even in the slightest, happy to run his tank on empty. He’d drive all fucking night if it meant more time with Dieter. 

So he took to the task with a vigilant level of focus, texting details and arrival times, the actor responding with a barrage of emojis, always ending with a heart. 

Marcus liked the way the little pixelated picture made his stomach flip.

Once together, it became less of a routine and more of a dance, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm that Marcus had no desire to predict. They would lose themselves in each other, wrapping tightly around the other, the heat impossible to turn away from. There were late nights and early mornings, the color of the sun replacing the hours on the clock. Sometimes, he would give up on sleep all together, content to match the actor’s eccentricities, watching Dieter move from room to room, minute to minute, until the other man would return to his arms. 

But as each visit came to a close, Marcus would find himself falling back on easy habits, his mind already making plans and rearranging schedules, focusing on that instead of the overbearing weight of goodbye. 

In the middle of one farewell, Dieter had grinned and nipped at his bottom lip, a tease curling around the curve of his cheek. 

“Don’t worry so much about the vigilante shit, sweet boy. You’re welcome anytime.”

Marcus had frowned at that, but Dieter was unfazed, humming an off-key pop song under his breath before giving one more piece of advice. 

Be spontaneous. 

Marcus had gnawed on those two words the entire plane ride home, the concept both enticing and diabolical at once. He imagined all the ways he would have spoiled Dieter if they lived in the same zip code. Spur of the moment cups of coffee, flowers just because, nights in and out and everything in between. But even those daydreams felt out of reach, Marcus unable to let go of the need to control everything. Everything. Everything that he possibly could. 

Except Deiter Bravo. 

The actor was bound for overseas, a six-month shoot looming ahead, lonely and large. They had spent the weekend before much the same way they had any other. Twisted together, sweat and cum and lips and hands pressed into bare skin, ignoring the ticking of traitorous time. Cruel miles were taking the other man away from him, and Marcus couldn’t stop the swell of jealous fear flaring inside his heart. 

Would he even be missed when the whole luminous, wonderful, exciting world was waiting for Dieter on the other side of the tarmac? 

A deep cough from the front seat dragged him back to the present, and before he could second guess himself again, Marcus climbed out of the car, tapping out five stars with one hand and grabbing his overnight bag with the other. He hesitated, just the smallest moment of debate, before he knocked, three sharp raps on the large black door. There was a shout from inside, Dee’s voice alerting someone he would get it, a breath and a curse as the lock was fiddled with, and then they were standing face to face after only 39 hours apart. 

Dieter seemed shocked to see him and he didn't bother hiding it, his jaw dropping in time with his arms, the shirt he had been buttoning hanging open to reveal his bare chest. Marcus couldn’t help but steal a glance of tan skin and a soft belly, licking his lips in anticipation. When Dee called his attention back up, the other man was smiling wide. 

“This is…”

“A surprise?”

“A great fucking surprise.” 

It was almost a blur after that. Fumbling hands and broken laughter as they came together in a messy kiss. They managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, Dieter’s bed barely breaking their fall. 

Marcus wanted to take his time, should have been taking his time, but Dieter’s voice was in his ear, thanking him — thanking him? — for showing up tonight. Thanking him and begging him and pressing salt-slicked lips into the curve of his neck. And before he could breathe the other man in, savor the moment that was coming out of nowhere, they stripped away each and every layer, Dieter panting beneath the hurried press of Marcus’s fingers deep inside. 

Sooner rather than later, Marcus was sliding into the other man one final time, their hips flush and their fingers laced. He came with a groan, face buried into the dip of Dieter’s neck, while the actor sunk his teeth into his shoulder, the pleasure burning away into the edges of pain. Only after they both found their breath, bodies pliant and limbs loose, did Marcus find his voice. 

“Do you want to order in?”

Dieter didn’t say anything and Marcus craned his neck up to peek past the other man’s chin and catch a glimpse of him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Did you already eat? Because that’s okay.”

“No…,” he started, fingers tracing a line of muscle from the top of his shoulder and back around, lingering along the teeth marks he left there only minutes earlier. “I haven’t eaten. I…there’s this thing I have to….well, not have to. I was getting ready for it when you knocked—“

“Dee?”

“There’s a party,” he finally blurted out, eyes finding the swing of the ceiling fan above, a grimace pulling his lips into a jagged line, a deep shade of pink settling on his cheeks. 

Marcus leaned up on his elbow, watching the small battle of wills dragging across Dieter’s face. He thought maybe he should try to comfort the other man but he was suddenly anxious, those creeping realities working their way up his spine. 

“A party?”

“Yeah, it’s sort of this farewell thing my friends are throwing,” he explained, not needing to. “Really, just an excuse to get blitzed.” 

The lack of eye contact suddenly made much more sense. 

“You wanted to go.”

It wasn’t a question. 

Dieter was up and over him in a flash, one large hand bending around Marcus’s jaw, thumb pressing the seam of his lips shut. “I didn’t want to be alone.” 

Marcus pursed his lips, the pad of Dieter’s thumb still pressing firm. He felt the callous from where Dee cheated his paintbrush, a perfect spot to push a kiss before pulling away. 

“You want to go.”  

Dieter searched his face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, trying to pull apart the determined set of Marcus’s jaw. When he came up empty-handed, he fell back to his elbows with an exaggerated sigh, one large hand still cupping the cut of the hero’s cheekbone, keeping his thumb close enough to touch. 

“I want to go with you.” 

———————

Marcus smiled from where he was leaning against the doorway, watching Dieter rummage through his ridiculously sized closet, a string of muttered musings leaving him as he pulled item after item off of hangers. The Heroic had slipped back into his jeans and t-shirt once the decision had been made that they would attend the party together, not really packing (or owning) anything that fit the L.A. scene. 

He was two steps towards the bathroom, intent on fixing his messy hair when Dee stopped him with a strong grip on his elbow. 

“Leave it,” he teased, a quick kiss pressed to his lips, fingers tugging at one of the sweat-slicked curls. 

Now he was standing behind him, sliding a stone-washed jean jacket up one arm and then the other, one more kiss, this time gifted to the back of his neck. The jacket hangs a bit loose around him, Marcus guessing a mix between the cut and style, and Dieter’s broader frame both at play. He couldn’t help himself, tugging the collar to his nose and inhaling deeply, the smell of weed and cologne and something subtle sweet filling his lungs. 

He felt Dieter’s eyes, watching him carefully in the reflection of the mirror, his hands finding the dip of his waist beneath the bulky fabric, gripping hard then soft, one, two, three times. Marcus took in the pair of them — sex-mussed hair and bright blush on him, wild eyes, and a teasing smile on Dieter — and he suddenly had no desire to go to this party. Any party. 

No. 

All he wanted was for Dieter to pull this jacket off the same way he had so easily slipped it on, and drag him back down to the safety of the mattress. 

“Come on, sweet boy,” he hummed, the hook of his nose tracing the shell of Marcus’s ear. “Sooner we get there, sooner I get to take you home.”

The word followed Marcus down the stairs and out to the car, his stomach flipping each time he let the meaning of it roll around inside his head.

Home?

———————

Driving in L.A. was an experience in and of itself. Marcus had made his own attempts, managing to find a rhythm in the few times he had been sent out to the west coast on assignment. It wasn’t much different than driving in any other city, as long as you were prepared to sit in what felt like endless hours of traffic. Of course, Marcus had the pleasure of abusing side streets and off-ramps when it came down to emergency situations. 

Driving with Dieter behind the wheel was a different experience altogether. He seemed unfettered by speed limits or traffic lights, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around Marcus’s knee, singing along to the song on the radio but only getting about half the words right. If not for his powers and years of honing his reflexes, Marcus would have maybe suggested he do the driving when he was in town. 

As it was, it was nice to settle into the plush leather seat and listen to Dieter’s slightly off-key voice, his hand squeezing Marcus’s knee in time with the beat of the music. He leaned back and closed his eyes, weighing the risk of asking Dieter to just keep driving. Maybe if they kept going, all night and all day, they could avoid the inevitable goodbyes looming in the distance.

———————

The last time Marcus and Dieter had been at a party together, they had only ever heard of each other, recognizing names and faces from newspapers and movie screens. They didn’t know any different than what was said in headlines or plastered on billboards, rumors and hearsay coloring in their opinions of one another. How many assumptions had Marcus made about the actor upon that first meeting? That he was pompous. Self-centered. Selfish. An addict. An asshole. A monster. 

Or maybe Marcus was afraid that was how Dieter saw him. 

The monster in the night. The shadow that lurked in the corner. Fighting away the evils of the world, the palms of his hands so very dirty with blood and secrets and violence. Living in the between of good and bad and never knowing where he really stood.

But when their eyes met across that darkened alley, only the glow of Dieter’s cigarette casting shadows between them, those half-truths and packaged lies that Marcus took for granted started to fall away. Somewhere between their small secrets and one smokey kiss goodnight, he started to learn who Dieter Bravo really was. 

This party was different in so many ways than that first elegant affair. Gone was the light classical music, replaced with something loud, a heavy bass and fast lyrics. Bowls of chips instead of passed trays. Stiff black and white was traded in for soft denim, Dieter’s scent surrounding Marcus from room to room. They entered the party together, no longer separate, no longer strangers, and instead more.

So much more.

Dieter’s arm was wrapped around Marcus’s waist, holding him close by his side as they navigated the packed mansion. The crowd parted around them, little waves of people ebbing and flowing to make room for the two men, boisterous cheers of joy raining down upon them. Dieter preened beneath the attention, his smile wide and his cheeks warm, the hand wrapped around Marcus’s waist squeezing hard to grab the Heroic’s attention. 

“They like to make a fuss,” he hummed into Marcus’s ear. 

He couldn’t help but cock his own grin back, turning his head just enough to brush his lips along the shell of Dieter’s ear, delighting in the shiver that followed. “I think you like the fuss.” 

———————

They get separated about an hour in, an inevitability between the number of people vying for Dieter’s attention and the sheer size of the house. Marcus excused himself to the bathroom, trying and failing not to be annoyed when the first empty one he found was on the opposite end of the party. By the time he made it back to where he left Dieter, the other man had moved, now sitting on a couch, friends and fans alike draped around him. 

There was something strange about watching Dieter Bravo in what some would consider his natural habitat. He was bright and shiny and impossible to look away from. He almost looked relaxed, his arms thrown over the back of the sofa and his legs stretched out long, only the tap tap tap of his heel giving him away.

Marcus wanted to insert himself. To crowd himself beside the other man and press his palm to the bend of his knee in hopes of soothing away the small tremor of anxiety, but he hesitated, his own worries holding him in place. So he stayed where he was, back glued to the wall, arms crossed and frown firm, as he tried to decipher the scene playing out in front of him. 

Was Dieter’s laugh real just then? Or was the one Marcus had teased out of him hours prior? The sounds seemed so similar, a copy of a copy that looked and felt and sounded real. Were his cheeks pink because he preferred their attention over Marcus’s? Or was it because this room was too damn hot? What did it mean when Dieter touched her knee? Or kissed his cheek? Or leaned a little bit more into their touch? 

And why did Marcus care? 

He didn’t consider himself a jealous man. 

But it almost felt inevitable, the dark tendrils of jealousy seemingly always present, ever since that fateful moment in the alleyway, smoke and secrets traded away for unspoken promises for more. Marcus clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, watching the other man glow beneath the attention of others. Was it merely a reflection back of the attention poured upon him? The mirrors of a disco ball catching in the light and shining for the delight of others? Or was Dieter just enjoying another moment in the limelight? 

Marcus couldn’t seem to see the line between real and fake, or what side he stood on. 

Someone handed him a drink in the midst of his brooding, and the sting of the alcohol paired well with his bitter mood. He was trapped in a hell of his own making, refusing to look away from the crowd gathered around Dieter, but hating every second of it. 

The jealousy burned inside of him. What had just been something dark mingling in the background was now present and in full force. Marcus was jealous. Jealous at how effortlessly Dieter lived his life, able to navigate crowds and fame and fervor without ever breaking a sweat. Jealous at how his smile seemed just as bright as it had when he opened his door hours earlier. Jealous at how someone else held the attention of his sweet brown eyes. 

And suddenly there was fear. Icy cold and horrifying reality. 

Marcus didn’t belong here. Here with these pretty people and their clean lines and bright lights. He was messy edges and dirty hands, stained with years of violence that would never scrub clean. There was dirt on his ledger and red on his chest, and Dieter was beautiful. So very very beautiful.

Another wave of panic gripped tight at Marcus’s throat. 

When was the last time he told Dieter he was beautiful? Yesterday? Or the day before that? Either way, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly. And he couldn’t fathom a world where he lost the chance to say it again. 

He couldn’t lose this. He couldn’t lose him. 

The lights above them flickered, an unwelcome side effect of his superpowers, Marcus’s unruly emotions too much to handle all at once. It was just enough to drag everyone’s attention up, stealing their eyes away from Dieter, but only briefly. The actor caught his gaze in the small interim, brows pinched and lips curved, his sharp mind putting the puzzle together. Marcus blushed beneath the scrutiny, feeling very much like a child caught in the midst of a crime. He slammed the cup down on the nearest surface he could find and shoved his dirty hands in the pockets of Dieter’s jacket, and turned away, the lights flickering one last time as he made a quick and embarrassing exit. 

From behind he could hear the shout of a stranger.

“Hey, Dee where’s your boyfriend headed?”

Marcus was so focused on the fact that someone else called him ‘Dee’ that he missed the way Dieter's eyes lit up at the word boyfriend.

The bathroom he had found earlier was blissfully empty, and he took care to lock the door behind him. He braced himself against the sink, the cool porcelain a balm to the heat of his palms, breathing in and out, sharp and fast, to match the beat of his heart. A knock came seconds later, Dieter’s voice chasing the sound. 

“Let me in, Marcus.”

It didn’t sound like a request.

Marcus unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist, and the actor slipped in, eyes pinning him in place as he locked the door behind him. For a moment both of them refused to speak, 2 feet of space between them, and enough silence to last a lifetime. It was Dieter who finally broke the tension, stepping forward until Marcus was within his reach, the palm of his hand cupping his cheek to keep him close.

“Flattered as I am, I can’t decide if I like jealous on you or not.” 

Marcus knew it was foolish to lie at this point. If his fucking superpowers hadn’t given him away, then storming off surely had, and any denial would have rung hollow. Besides, they had promised. Months ago, in an opulent hotel room, cum and sweat sticking them together. They promised to always be honest with each other. 

“I don’t belong here, Dee.”

“Shut up.” The sentiment came out as a tease, the tip of Dieter’s thumb tracing the stubble along Marcus’s cheek, but the look on his face was serious. 

Marcus shook his head, unsure how to say what had seemed so clear to him only minutes ago. “I’m not…I’m not g–”

“I swear to fucking all, if you say the word ‘good,’ Moreno.”

His mouth clamped shut, and he smiled for the first time since he left Dieter’s side earlier in the night. The other man yanked him in for a quick kiss, only pulling a breath away when he spoke again.

“You are better than all of us, sweet boy. Please tell me you know that?”

Marcus wanted to shake his head in disagreement, the very idea that Dieter saw the good in him too much to bear, but the actor was already kissing him again, lips slanting sweetly along his own. When they broke apart for the second time, Dieter said it again, and then again, each time pairing a kiss with his words. Marcus thought maybe he would have kissed him a hundred times and then a hundred more, praise and adoration passed between them until the inevitable end of time caught up. 

But then Dieter crowded in closer, kissing him with much more fervor, his intent clear. Hands scrambled as belts were tugged free and pants were pulled down, bodies twisting until Marcus was plastered to Dieter’s back. He slipped inside the broader man easily, still slick with his release from earlier. Dieter whined at the stretch, pressing back into Marcus, fingers curling around the edge of the bathroom counter as he began to beg. 

“Hard, baby. Please.”

Marcus nipped at Dieter’s ear, refusing to move, the entire length of him buried to the hilt inside him. “How hard?” 

“Hard,” Dieter begged again, squirming in Marcus’s tight grip. “Hard as you can. Need to feel you. F-feel so good.”

It was an intoxicating rush, reducing Dieter Bravo to stumbling pleas and wanton moans, and Marcus swore as long as he was able to pull air into his lungs he refused to take that feeling for granted. He pressed a soft kiss to Dieter’s skin and gently nudged his nose to the back of his head, coaxing his gaze up to meet Marcus’s in the mirror. 

He dragged his hand up Dieter’s chest, stopping to feel the steady thump of his heart, one, two, three beats, before moving up to wrap his fingers around the other man’s throat. He whined again, writhing to and fro, the sound more pitiful with each passing second that Marcus refused to move. 

“I’ve got you, mi cielo. I’ve got you,” he hummed the promise, pressing another kiss to Dieter’s sweat-damp curls. He squeezed the actor’s throat again, watching as his cock seemed to pulse in time with the action. He bit back his own groan, his own cock painfully hard where he was buried inside the other man. 

“M-marcus…please…”

When he finally moved, it was slow, almost torturous for the both of them, but Marcus refused to be rushed. Not this time. Fuck any and everyone who dared to knock on that door. That dared to interrupt them. That dared to break between this moment. He pulled the other man closer, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other still gripping tight to his throat. Dieter’s hands were still scrambling, designer soaps and over-priced products falling to the floor as he seeked some sort of leverage. He finally found it, stonewashed denim bunching between his fingers as he dug them into Marcus’s forearms.

And only then did Marcus give into his request, snapping his hips as hard as he could, teeth sinking into the curve of Dieter’s neck. There would be bruises, bad ones, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too overwhelmed at the thought of marking the other man as his own. Dieter didn’t seem to mind either, begging Marcus again and again to give him everything he had. 

“Want to feel it,” he sobbed, the pleasure just on the other side of pain. “Want to feel you when I’m gone. Please.” 

“You will, baby. I promise,” Marcus growled. “You’ll feel me for days. You won’t forget me. P-please… don’t forget me.” 

The admission fell out of Marcus before he could stop it, along with his own broken sobs to match. The pain and tears burst to life, the broken pieces he had hidden all over his body finding new life as he begged Dieter to take it all with him. Each slam of his hips and bruising touch of his hands. Every bite from his teeth and kiss from his lips. The words and the promises and the things neither of them knew how to say but felt all the same. 

“Take me with you, Dee. Please, take me with you.” 

“I will, sweet boy,” he gasped, his body shaking beneath Marcus’s anguished hands. “Sweet boy. Good boy. I promise.”  

Dieter came first, though Marcus wasn’t sure how, his sobs and sighs of pleasure long past any sort of coherence. His cock twitched and pulsed, coming completely untouched. Marcus watched Dieter’s face break apart in the reflection of the mirror, his brown eyes wild and skin flushed, lips parting around a feral scream. 

Marcus fell apart in kind, sparks of heat bursting at the base of his spine as tight velvet squeezed around him, Dieter’s voice in his ear, his jacket sticking to his skin. He spilled inside the other man, tears and spit and snot pressed into Dieter’s neck, little words of praise coaxing him through the brunt of it. Eventually, the tears turned to laughter, the two of them clinging tighter as they made guesses at how many people heard them.

“Either way, I hope they enjoyed the show because I sure did,” Dieter teased, nipping his teeth on the hinge of Marcus’s jaw. 

They did a piss poor job of cleaning up, Dee’s cum barely wiped clean from the porcelain with a towel found below the counter, too high a thread count for something so filthy but neither man really gave two shits to look for an alternative. The products were tossed haphazardly into the sink, the idea of stacking them neatly ridiculous. They both agreed; you get what you ask for when you throw a party in the valley. 

Marcus took better care when it came time to clean Dieter up. He warmed up the water from the sink as best he could, using that same fancy towel from before to wipe up the trickle of cum slipping slowly down his backside. He couldn’t stop from stealing one small indulgence, using his thumb to press some of himself back inside the other man, Dieter’s legs visibly shaking from the sudden stimulation. Marcus shushed him with a soft kiss to one of the many bite marks littered across his neck, humming out a quiet apology.

“Do they hurt?”

“They do,” Dieter grinned, tilting his chin to admire the marks as he tugged his jeans up over the swell of his ass. “I’m gonna need a few more before I get on that plane tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmm, definitely.” 

Dieter pressed something hard into Marcus’s hand and when he looked down he could see it was his car keys, the silver teeth catching in the light. 

“Take me home, sweet boy. I have plans for you.”

There was that word again, breathed out so easily, like a promise he knew he would keep. 

Home. 

[emmalostinwonderland]

💜 “Will they revoke my queer card if I don’t get oat milk in my lattes?”

FirstPrince please!

I was so hoping someone would pick this prompt lol. Thank you, Steph! For you, here's a bit of established-relationship cuteness featuring autistic Henry. Up to you if it's canon or not, it really could go either way imho. It also ran a bit longer than expected (which I should've seen coming - of course your prompt request would come with your short-fic-runs-long deal lol), so half is under the cut.

“I’ll have an Earl Grey, please.” “Okay, just the tea or did you want to try our lavender oat milk London Fog?” Alex looks up from his phone to find Henry staring in mildly-stunned confusion at the pink-haired barista behind the counter at whatever local shop they wandered into today. It’s loud in there – enough that it’s even grating on his own ears a bit – and it’s a brand new spot for them. He gives his boyfriend a moment to cope with the change himself, but Henry’s mouth opens and closes twice without any sound coming out, so he pipes up to rescue him. “He’s a black tea kinda guy, but thanks.” Henry bumps shoulders with him in a silent ‘thank you’, but the barista just shrugs, scribbles on the side of a cup with a sharpie, and sets it aside. “For you?”

“Medium latte with cinnamon. Actual cinnamon, not syrup.” “Iced?” Alex shakes his head. “Hot. And yes, I know it’s summer.” “Did you want that with oat milk?” They don’t even look up from the cup they’re writing on. “Sorry, did I miss a memo?” Alex laughs, mostly to show he’s just being a little snarky and not a complete asshole, but Henry gives him a look.  “Excuse me?” “You’re upselling on oat milk like. A lot. To the couple in front of us, to my boyfriend, now to me… Do you have 2%? Or will they revoke my queer card for not getting oat milk in my lattes?” “Alex,” Henry hisses at him.  The barista isn’t remotely fazed though. They just look exhausted. “My manager ordered double what we usually get, and I was told to push it. You can have whatever you want, man, I just work here.” “...I see. I’d like it regular please.” “No problem.” They ring up the drinks, and Alex pays, stuffing a 20 in the tip jar to make up for his attitude.  Henry pulls him into a hug while they wait at the other end of the counter, and Alex melts into it. They aren’t normally super touchy-feely in public spaces, but Henry has always had a sort of sixth sense for Alex’s mood shifts. He blames the autism, but Alex secretly thinks it’s proof that they were each designed by some higher power with the other in mind. “Are your batteries getting low, love?” It’s a little odd hearing the phrase from Henry – that’s usually his line when they’re out and about. He nods after only a moment’s consideration, rubbing his cheek against the wear-soft fabric of Henry’s old Oxford polo team t-shirt. “It’s been a long week. I’m sorry.” “It’s alright. We’ve ducked out of plenty of things early for me; it can be your turn this time. Let’s skip the movie and go home.” "You sure?" “Definitely. We can even watch Empire if that would help.” “I seriously fucking love you.” Alex smiles for the first time since they walked into the coffee shop when he feels Henry kiss his temple. “I love you too.”

More Ficlet Friday Prompts

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Only One I See

Sequel to One is the Loneliest Number, One on One, One Little Thing

Warnings: none, Professor Steve (that’s a warning in itself)

Dunno if I’ll be doing an exhaustive drabble series but there’s at least this. Let me know if you’re enjoying it or not and any thoughts you have. Love you!

“Nothing going on,” Inez nudges you as she stands with her copy of Wuthering Heights, “you’re a terrible liar. And so is the professor.”

“What are you talking about?” You keep your voice low as you shove your book in your bag, “I wish you’d stop.”

“Oh, come on,” she looks around at the dozen other members who showed up that week. You felt a sense of relief at seeing so many, a feeling that mirrored Steve’s, no, Professor’s expression, “we’re sitting here arguing over sexy ghost man and he’s zooot!” She makes a pinch motion with all her fingers, “pinpointed, right on you.”

“N-no,” you sniff, “I didn’t… I didn’t even say much–”

“Exactly,” she hikes her messenger bag onto her shoulder as you zip your pink polka dot backpack, “you don’t have to say anything, little miss brownie.”

“Ew, no, no, he’s…” you glance over at Rogers, another student, Lulu, stands in front of him with her copy of Bronte open. His eyes meet yours and he smiles, tweaking a brow at you, “he’s our professor. He’s…” you step closer to her and hide your whisper behind your hand, “old.”

“Not that old,” she chirps, “come on. He’s what forty? Maybe a few years over, and he’s constantly surrounded by young girls– case and point.”

She tosses another look in his direction and you see how Ainsley leans on him and giggles. He seems slightly bothered as he lets out a deep breath and pats her hand as he coaxes her away, all the while he continues to make his point. You catch a few words, something about Catherine. 

“Look around you, sunshine, do you see a single male specimen here?”

“Well,” you pull the straps of your bags up your arms, “Dani is nonbinary so–”

“Yeah but they still like dick,” she giggles.

“Oh, god, why do you have to be so gross?”

“Please tell me you weren’t that one in high school? The prude? You’re cute, I’m sure at least one guy–”

“This is college,” you insist, trying to restrain your embarrassment, “I told you, and I don’t want to keep saying it, but I’m not interested in Professor Rogers.”

“Alright, alright,” she raises her hands defensively, “so how about–”

“Excuse me,” the deep tone undercuts her detour and you pout helplessly as you turn reluctantly to the professor. You hope he didn’t hear any of that, “before you go, I found this good app for these sort of things. Helps track your reading,” he explains as he holds out a clipboard, “I’m just getting phone numbers to add everyone to the group.”

“Oh, BookSnoop, yeah I’ve heard of that,” Inez says cheerily and sends you a guilty look, “uh, here, let me give you my number.”

She takes the clipboard first and scribbles down her number then hands it to you. You do the same and give it back, the brush of fingertips with the professor making you wince, “thanks, professor.”

“Of course, and… I had an idea. I was talking to management at Marge’s, I might be able to host one of these things there.”

“Oh, that’s so cool,” you say, “I might get a bit distracted by the sweets though.”

“Count us in,” Inez grumbles, “I hate these old classrooms. They smell like khaki.”

“Mmm, yeah,” Rogers appears slightly perplexed by her comment, “well, thanks for signing up,” he hugs the clipboard against one side of his chest, “and don’t forget about your book review next class.”

“Uh, how could we forget?” Inez chuckles nervously and grabs your elbow, “excuse us, professor, we’re late for, uh… a party.”

“Okay, er, um, be safe,” he backs away awkwardly, “see you in class.”

“Buh bye,” Inez toss over her shoulder as she urges you to the door and you barely squeeze through the door ahead of her, nearly crushing against her in the tight frame.

“What’s going on? A party?” You sputter as you plant your feet.

“Look, I totally forgot about the uh, book review, so how do you feel about an all-nighter?”

“In,” you exclaim, “are you kidding me?”

“Come on, I need you to keep me awake,” she whines, “pweez, pwetty pweez, I wuv you, you know that right?”

“Don’t do that,” you sneer, “fine, I’ll help you but I swear, next time, you’re on your own. You know, I have other classes. History papers I don’t want to write.”

“Well that’s convenient, because I haven’t done Laufeyson’s paper either,” she cackles, “it’s fate.”

📃

You rub your eyes and yawn over your cold coffee cup. Inez is barely awake, her head in her hand as she scrolls on her laptop. You feel like you’re looking in a mirror, so tired your head feels like a boulder.

You scratch out notes about the Communist Revolution in your notebook, trying to make sense of it all in your fatigue fuzzed mind. As you put your pen down to stretch your cramped fingers, the subtle clack of Inez’ keyboard tapping in the silent library, your phone buzzes. The noise is loud, jarring in the lull.

She’s unbothered as her lips move with the words she types. You wonder if she’s even typing words. You have class at noon so you might get a few hours before you have to weave your way back onto campus. You snatch up your phone and unlock it, leaning back dangerously in the heavily wooden chair.

‘Hope you got home safe’ the text reads, the number unfamiliar. 

You put the phone down, assuming it’s a wrong number. You trail your fingers over your brow as Inez chews her thumb.

“What another way to say therefore, I think I’ve typed that a thousand times,” she murmurs.

“Thus, and so, consequently…” you say as you phone vibes again.

‘You didn’t drink too much, did you?’

You scowl at the screen and thumb in your response lazily, ‘I think you have the wrong number’.

Three dots appear almost as soon as you hit send. ‘It’s Steve. Checking in. Making sure you’re okay. That’s all.’

For a moment, you’re confused. Then you remember jotting down your number on the board. 

You peek up at Inez, she’s swaying before her laptop. Should you tell her? No, she’d just tease you again. He’s just nice. Maybe a bit too concerned.

‘I’m fine, professor. Just going to sleep. Good night’. There, that’ll put an end to it.

‘Sweet dreams’ he replies. You don’t answer but another message comes in. A pink heart. 

You lock the phone and sigh. You’re too tired. Besides, you know how older people are with emojis. Your mother kept sending the cry laugh emoji in very serious conversations.

“Inez,” you say gruffly, “let’s go. I need sleep.”