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[joshuameals]

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[munsonthings86]

sunshine

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a love-struck steve cooks you dinner for the first time

warnings: cursing, alcohol, bit of backstory, oversimplified summary, steve's parents kinda suck (when do they not), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, soft!steve

an: i think this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written. i'm so in love with these two. i hope you all enjoy this one as much as i do. * don’t copy my work * (also pretend there's a big city near hawkins for the sake of this pls)

wc: 6.0k

“Ow!” Steve hissed, nicking his finger yet again as he made his best effort to dice pesky onions. The knife was razor-sharp as it was fresh out of its packaging, having never been used yet. Frustrated, he squeezed the band-aid he'd spent a solid ten minutes looking for, tighter on his finger, earning a harsh sting.

"Goddamned knife," he whispered, tightlipped, but as soon as the complaint left his lips he wished to yank it back in. It was the chef's knife you'd bought him along with many other thoughtful housewarming gifts to celebrate Steve moving into his first apartment. Steve had insisted that you return some of the gifts, noting that "one gift was more than he could ever ask for".

In spite of his pleas, you didn't return a single gift. Of course, you didn't. You had bought items you knew Steve would need but would ultimately forget to buy for himself. Just to name a few, you'd gotten him a trash bin for his bathroom, a record player, and the best utensil set that the rest of your Family Video paycheck could buy.

Peering at the odd assortment of household objects you'd lugged into his barren apartment with a bright smile pulling at the corners of your lips, an expression of gratitude and bewilderment claimed his face. Steve's round, chestnut-brown eyes ogled yours as you ranted and raved, explaining your thought process behind each purchase.

The record player was for nights like these. Peaceful nights indoors, simply enjoying each other's company without the tense presence of his parents who would shout for him to turn that damn music down if he even thought about letting the needle hit the groove of the record.

"Now we can play music as loud and as much as we want to," he remembered you saying, blushing at your use of the word "we". Though you two were only best friends and have been since grade school, Steve couldn't help but fantasize about a life with you. You, drowning in one of his bigger-than-you t-shirts, prancing around the apartment as you listened to some your favorite records.

He'd begun pondering on how he would rearrange the bit of furniture he had, that'd allow for space for your belongings as well, before you lured him out of his thoughts, defending the bin.

From what he gathered, you bought the garbage bin due to his burning inability to keep his bathroom clean. Steve was someone who took great care of his appearance, always well-kempt and attentive to even the smallest of details.

His bathroom did not reflect this, whatsoever. He had a bad habit of harboring empty cans and bottles of Farrah Fawcett spray that littered the already limited counter space he had in his en suite bathroom.

Steve was such a boy when it came to tidiness.

Everyone knew that about Steve, though. What they didn’t know, however, was how skilled he was in a kitchen. After being left to his lonesome whenever his parents would venture off to one of their many business trips, Steve spent his nights learning to cook after his allowance dwindled and he couldn't afford pizza delivery anymore. The second he'd clock in for his shift at Family Video, he'd make a beeline to where you stood, stocking VHS tapes, and instantly began buzzing and bustling about the new recipe he tried the night before.

You had begged him to let you come over one night to taste one of his home-cooked meals, but his response was always the same. "You can't rush perfection, sweets. But I promise, when I'm ready to grace the world with my master chef skills, you'll be the first to know."

You would roll your eyes dramatically at him but admittedly, you felt a sense of pride wash over you whenever Steve would tell you about his cooking endeavors. It may not seem like a big deal to others, but you knew how much his parents being so negligent, so often, bothered him.

Though they were never the most warm and affectionate, there seemed to be a colder chill and heavier sense of loneliness in the house when they were gone. That's why you never denied Steve whenever he'd call late at night asking if it was okay to spend the night at your house.

He always felt at home there.

Steve learning to cook for himself meant that his parents' absence was finally beginning to help him grow; no longer craving validation and tenderness from his family. He got that when he was with you. That's what the utensil set was for. A silent sign saying that though his parents weren't there, you were.

"Don't get me wrong, sunshine, I love the gift, but why's this knife so funny looking?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes at the sharp object that looked like it was from some alien universe. It had three square-like holes infiltrating the blade, and the tip came to an up-turned point that split in two. The handle was the only average looking part about it.

"That, my friend, is a cheese knife," you answered matter-of-factly, gazing at the box that had all of the included utensils neatly labeled.

"They make knives specifically for cheese?"

"Apparently, yeah," you snorted, tossing the empty box off to the side of the room with the other discarded cardboard that you made a mental note to move to the recycling bin on your way out. Steve never recycled. Bad habit he picked up from his parents, you figured.

"Well, I can't wait to use my weird new knife. Thank you. Seriously," Steve smiled softly as he watched you with those big brown eyes that voiced his gratitude and sentiment louder than his words ever could.

"The best weird chef has to have the best weird equipment. You're welcome," you grinned, toying with the loose thread dangling from your distressed band tee, as your eyes collided with Steve’s.

Looking at Steve was hard.

In the midst of quiet and almost intimate moments like these, the nerves bolting through your body screamed at you to look anywhere else, but the greed of your heart yearned for you to keep drinking in the deep chocolate pools that were Steve Harrington's eyes.

The two of you gazed at each other for another second, though it felt identical to a blissful eternity, until Steve furrowed his eyebrows after registering what you'd just uttered. "Did you just call me weird?" He asked, hand on his hip as if he's offended, though he truthfully isn't because he's positive you're infinitely weirder than he is, and he's more than willing to debate with you for hours on that topic.

"Nooo," you sang, quickly turning away to distract yourself with some unpacking that Steve had called you over to help him with, which you happily agreed to. A little extra time with him was time well spent.

"Yeah, okay," he rolled his eyes. He happily tucked away the flashy silverware he'd poached from his parent's kitchen into the darkest corner of the drawer, leaving the less flashy but much more appreciated utensils you bought him, front and center, ready to be shown off.

"Oh those? My best friend got them for me. Aren't they nice? Did you know they make knives for cheese?" He imagined himself saying, hoping he'd get the opportunity to boast about them to his guests some time soon.

Steve smiled to himself at the memory, angling the cutting board that harbored a pile of diced onions that he'd at last conquered, into a bowl, sliding them off with the blade of a knife that was a lot less odd shaped compared to his trusty cheese knife. It didn't even have to be that specific memory. It could've been any imagery of you being the effortlessly sarcastic, intelligent, breath-taking person that you were, and it would be the warm light to inevitably guide him out of whatever dark mood that dared to plague him.

Steve was so helplessly in love with you.

April 14, 1978, he could never forget the day, was particularly dreary. So dreary it made Steve begin to question why the spring time was thought to be such a radiant, pleasant season when all it ever did was bring rain and provoke people with allergies. Steve slammed his blaring alarm off with a groan, never bothering to pry open his tired eyes.

The sky was dark and dreadful, concealing the golden rays of the sun he yearned to see. As he trudged through the house, reluctantly gearing himself up for yet another torturous day of middle school, Steve silently prayed for some unorthodox happenstance that would call for the canceling of school.

But much to his dismay, that wasn't the case.

When the bell pierced through the classroom speakers, alerting the beginning of Steve's favorite class, P.E., he rushed to the locker room, jumping into his gym uniform, as he was determined to continue his unfaltering streak of dodgeball victories.

Steve was in the zone, taking out his opponents left and right as if it was nothing. If dodgeball was an Olympic sport, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he could've won multiple gold medals.

Then you came.

Sauntering into sixth grade gym class, adorning a lengthy, bright yellow dress with your hair done up, looking as anxious as can be. It was your first day at Hawkins Middle and you'd just transferred halfway into the semester, all thanks to your parents decision to move to the small town, leaving New York City and all your friends behind.

Everyone turned their curious heads to peer at you, whispering amongst each other, prompting you to clutch your books tighter to your chest as if to shield yourself. Your soft smile as you looked around at your new classmates instantly made Steve's chest and stomach warm and gooey inside, making him want nothing more than to walk up to you and convince you to be his friend. Steve hated how gossipy his classmates were, as it clearly made you uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to look away either.

The way the illuminous medallion hue complimented your skin tone was nothing short of art. To him, you were the sun personified. The sun he was so eager to see.

Due to your lack of sports attire, Coach Daniels had you sit on the bleachers, watching as the other kids resumed their game of dodgeball after mumbling a "warm" welcome to you, per Coach's request.

Steve lost his first game of dodgeball that day. He just couldn't seem to focus when you were perched just a few feet away, thumbing through your withered book, looking like one of the prettiest girls he'd ever laid his adolescent eyes on. Steve, or the boy with the hella good hair as you dubbed him in your diary later on that night, was too enamored with you to be bothered by the taunts coming from his friends. He jogged over to you, offering to keep you company until fourth period began, which you happily accepted.

And ever since then, the two of you have been as thick as thieves.

"Hawkins PD, open up!" Steve recognized your muffled voice, though you deepened it, to imitate a police officer. Your signature three knocks followed, urging butterflies to erupt throughout his stomach, as he longed to see you. It couldn't have been more than twenty-four hours since the two of you had last seen each other, but even one hour without you was an hour way too long for poor Steve.

"It's open", Steve called, tossing a hand towel over his shoulder, setting the stove ablaze, planting a pot over the flame. Right on time, he thought.

"Hey, Harrington," you smiled as you struggled to enter, cradling two bottles of rosé wine and your purse in your arms, pushing the door open with the help of your hip.

"Hey, sunshine. Lemme get those for ya," Steve offered, stowing your bearings on the counter gently, while you kicked your shoes off, mumbling a "thanks".

A warm amber light casted from the ceiling of the kitchen spilled into the shadowy living room a few feet away, like a neglected can of paint. The only thing that remained un-melted by the darkness was the quiet record player, as if the generous light knew you'd be looking for it the minute you walked in.

"How was your day?" Steve smirked as he watched you rush over to the object he swore was the only reason you liked to come over, sifting through the vinyl's searching for your favorite one. What’s Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner. Steve spotted it before you did. Absentmindedly, you responded, “Not too shabby, ya know? How was yours?”

“Yeah, it was alright.”

You crouched down to the two tier storage table, running a finger across the spines of the records, searching for your beloved song. It quickly became the song you most adored when you'd bought the tape for your Walkman a few years prior. Your days weren't complete unless you played the song at least twice, so much so that Steve found himself quietly humming the song to himself whenever he'd miss you. He even caught himself doing that dumb little finger dance you normally did whenever you listened to a song you really liked. He'd never tell you that, though.

Much to your dismay, you couldn't seem to spy that sneaky record. You dropped your hand disappointedly, faintly fearsome that it'd been misplaced. Steve's apartment wasn't huge, but it wasn't exactly tidy either. “It’s right there, sweets. To your left.” So you diverted your attention to the left. No Tina Turner. “No, your other left.”

“Here?” you pointed. Steve hummed in confirmation.

“Well, that’s not the left, Steve. That’s the right,” was your response that you punctuated with a roll of your tired eyes. Apart from knowing how to get to Skull Rock with his eyes closed, the boy had zero sense of direction. It was something you found both endearing and infuriating. It depended on the day, really.

“Potato, potahto.” Oh, Steve. Melting butter into the burning pan in front of him that he almost completely forgot about, all thanks to your beautiful presence, he began sautéing his diced onions along with some fresh garlic. "Well, speaking of 'potahtoes' you need to be cooking some, 'cause you promised me dinner tonight," you smiled tight-lipped, cocking your head at an angle.

You felt the unpleasant sensation of your stomach growling, cursing you, at the heavenly thought of food as your shift at Family Video earlier today was unforgiving to your non-existent breakfast. You fumbled with the vinyl a bit as the mouthwatering aroma of home cooking stormed your senses and Steve spoke once more. "Feisty today, aren't we?"

"Just a tad," you laughed quietly.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you but tonight we're not having potatoes. I'm making your favorite," he pointed, shuffling the pan to give it a gentle stir. He made sure to turn to face you in time to see your hopefully delighted reaction. "Alfredo?!" you spun around with a glittering grin, almost knocking over Steve's plant. A fake one, of course. A real plant was a bit too much responsibility for him.

At the nod of his head, your cheesy smile soften to a smaller, less toothy one as you watched Steve while he resumed cooking. What you failed to share with your best friend was that the last phrase you'd actually use to describe your day was "not too shabby". Besides waking up almost an entire hour past the start of your shift (Keith made sure to give you an earful about that) and everyone and their mother in town deciding to be at Family Video today, it seemed like your day was never-ending. The only thing keeping your mood from turning stink to sour was the idea of going to see Steve.

Steve was kind of magical in that way. Anger, sadness, anxiety, you name it, it was no match for Steve. Though he was no poet, he had this way with words that would never fail to make you feel so comforted. So safe. Any instance where Steve had to talk you out of whatever mental turmoil you were enduring, it felt you were being endlessly wrapped in a cozy, tight blanket, sheltering you from all the darkness.

How Steve knew you were having a shit day and needed your favorite meal along with your favorite boy? Lord knows. His ability to read you without even needing to be near you was nothing short of wizardry. But like you said. Steve was magical.

"You're the best," you proclaimed, prompting a mumbled sly remark from your chef for the evening, before the music began. Being here, along with the divine sound of Tina's ethereal voice and pasta boiling in water, was more than enough to make you feel like you were right at home, though your true address was miles away. When the time to depart would make its cursed arrival, it was never easy to leave, especially with the way Steve begged for you to stay, using those unfairly adorable puppy dog eyes that paired beautifully with his lengthy lashes, against you.

And it always worked. Well, not always. You had some degree of self-control. But more times than not, you couldn't help but to cave in to his protests. How could you resist? It was Steve.

With a satisfied grin that carved deep smile lines into his blushing cheeks, he'd tuck his sheets snug around your body, repeatedly asking you if you were comfortable enough. His bed was cloud-like, plush and doughy and his pillows smelled like his shampoo and conditioner, a hint of cologne on his comforter. It was like you were trapped in a cocoon of Steve. You wanted to tell him you were beyond comfortable, that there, in his bed, you were in just about your favorite place on Earth but, habitually, you concluded that a simple nod would suffice.

Crawling onto the empty space beside you, he made sure to face you, leaving a soft squeeze on your shoulder before humming "G'night, sunshine," closing his eyes and tucking his hands under his head. And like always, Steve was a perfect gentleman, dead set on never getting under the covers himself when you'd sleep over.

Guilt would disrupt your relaxation at the sight of the brisk night chill building little hills on his freckled arms, though you selfishly loved the way he'd cuddle up to steal some of your body heat. His plump lips would part as he drifted into a peaceful slumber, light snores and chirping crickets being your lullaby.

You hoped to have another night like that soon.

In the midst of times like those, storms of wonder and doubt raged on. Was Steve like this with everyone else? Were you being silly thinking that you and Steve could be more than friends? Being Steve's best friend for nearly a decade, you knew he wasn't exactly a prude. His King Steve era was honestly one of your least favorites. Though he reserved his usual tenderness and affection all for you, you've witnessed a whole slew of girls enter and leave Steve's life, and none of them looked like you.

You wanted nothing more than to be one of the girls he'd have leaned up against his locker, arm resting next to their head, cheeks fanned by his minty breath as he whispered honeyed words. You craved dates at the drive-in theater in Steve's burgundy 1983 BMW only to neglect the movie and end up making out, like he did with other girls.

When Steve would bring his latest lover around, desperately, you did your damnedest to bury your jealousy and and fill its grave with merriment for him, because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Steve. But the girls at school only wanted to be with Steve because of his status and all the flashy things he could buy them.

The flashy things were dull to you, though.

You wanted to be with Steve because you wanted to hold his hand and press soft kisses to his cheek. To hug him a little tighter and little longer than a best friend normally would. To run your fingers through his fluffy hair whenever he would grow stressed because you knew it calmed him down. To make him breakfast in bed when he was sick and even when he wasn't. To love him your fullest potential.

But you had to settle for this. Calves tucked under your thighs with a blanket draped over your legs as you stared off into space, longing for someone you thought you couldn't have, not knowing he was stealing glances of you wondering what was running through your pretty little head.

Resting your arm against the back of the sofa, holding your head up, your lips were downturned in a pout, eyebrows pulled together as you studied the throw pillow a few inches away from you. A little pillow can't be that interesting, something has to be bothering you, he thought. He was unapologetically curious to know if pressing his lips against your own would make that frown melt into that sweet smirk you usually had.

Steve hated when you were unhappy. It made his mind race. Did someone say something to you? Did someone do something to you? Did you eat today? How was your shift? Why did you lie when you said your day "wasn't too shabby"? Obviously it was shabby. Look at your face. That tired and troubled, cute little face. What can he do to fix it? You were his sunshine, you deserved to be happy, always.

Giving the pot a final stir and turning the flame off, Steve carelessly tossed the grease-stained hand towel flopped over his shoulder, down by the sink, strolling over to where he'd earlier set down the two bottles of wine. White Zinfandel. Neither you or Steve were wine connoisseurs, but when you called Nancy panicking about how extensive the selection at the liquor store was, she swore by it.

Balancing two glasses and a single bottle of the rose-tinted alcohol, Steve took an extra glance at your face, deciding to scoop up the second bottle into his arms. By the looks of it, it was gonna be one of those nights.

You tried to hide your smile as you noticed he was coming over, a slight grin on his face as he set the glasses down. You and him both knew he was only coming to cause trouble. He set the delicate haul down on to the thrifted wooden coffee table in front of you, slipping you one of those comforting 'Steve smiles' he usually did.

Like the forgotten towel, he threw himself down on the couch next to you, warm hand having a much softer landing on the plush of your thigh; a familiar and welcomed touch. Habitually, you curled up closer to him, no longer able to hide your smile.

"Why so glum, chum?" He tilted his chin down, slightly poking his bottom lip out, as he looked at you through batting eyelashes.

Laughing through your nose and subsequently parading a grin that displayed nothing but teeth and hollow happiness, you remarked, "What do you mean? Don't you see me smiling?"

You were fooling absolutely no one. Steve knew you were sad. And, goddamn it, he was gonna get it out of you.

"You know exactly what I mean, you weren't smiling just a few seconds ago until I came over. You're welcome, by the way, I'm flattered that I have such an effect on you," he smirked, placing a hand on his chest in gratitude.

"Okay, now I'm glum again," you roll your eyes at his not-so discreet cockiness. You hid your face in your hands, resting your forehead on Steve's shoulder. It was hard with muscle, but soft with tenderness and safety. "I was smiling at the wine, for your information."

The palm of your hand that pressed against your face muffled your words, but Steve could still understand what you said, it was evident in the way your tone was laced with satire.

"Ah, yes, that makes way more sense" Steve replied, monotone. His thumb began coasting along your skin as he urged you, "Alright, jokes aside. How are you really feeling?"

Hoisting your head up, you almost answered before he continued, "And don't give me that 'not too shabby' crap 'cause that frown you had going on earlier already snitched on ya."

When the hell did he get so observant? Steve was no idiot, but sometimes things needed to be spelled out for him. But come to think of it, you never had to spell things out for Steve whenever it came to you. He just always had a way of knowing.

"I don't know, Steve. Honestly. Some days are just a bit tougher than others. Today was one of those days," you murmured, avoiding the attentive gaze he was burning into your shifty eyes.

He slowly nodded as he processed your words, head falling on top of yours as you again found comfort on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as you began mimicking the affection he was giving you on your thigh, rubbing his arm through the creamy cotton material of his crewneck. You hadn't seen it before. This one was new. So were the jeans he'd paired with it.

"Why're you dressed so nice, Harrington?"

He laughed more to himself than to you. "Well, the food can't be the only thing that looks good, you know? Wanted to look nice too. It's our first dinner together, after all," he mumbled the last bit.

Steve felt the skin around your eyes tighten against his shoulder as your eyebrows scrunched together. "We've had dinner together before, though."

"This one's different," he replied, almost instantly. You'd hoped Steve's eyes were still closed so that he wouldn't see the bashfulness you were weathering, plucking the corners of your lips into a soft smile.

A silence fell between the two of you. Not unusual. Not awkward. Never unusual or awkward. There was a mutual cherishment of moments like these. Shamelessly invading each other's personal space on the couch as if it was made to only fit one person, music playing lowly the distance, but preferring to listen to the sound of the other's breathing.

"How can I make you feel better, sunshine?" Steve questioned, voice still hushed. The volume of your voice wasn't much louder as you responded, thoughtlessly, "You don't have to ask me that. You make me feel better without even trying."

"Oh yeah?" He craned his neck so that his head was impossibly closer to yours, awaiting your confirmation. Steve knew that you enjoyed his company, as he did yours, but he was only joking earlier when he gushed about having such an effect on you. It was now his turn to hide his blush, when you hum, nodding your head fervently.

These were the warm moments that confused you so much more than any subject in school ever did. And unbeknownst to you, it messed with Steve's head too. He'd never been this close with anyone before. Especially not with any of his "girlfriends" in the past. Sure, they'd cuddle and talk about their feelings. But it never felt the way it does with you. Steve was in love with you. It was hopeless.

And he had to make it known. Soon. If not, he swore he'd explode.

"Ready to eat?"

"Mhm," you buzzed, untangling yourself from the envelop of Steve. As he pressed his knuckles into the sofa, willing himself up, you reached for the bottle of wine and a glass, but your hand only made it so far until it felt the sting of a petty swipe from the boy next to you. "Ah ah, missy, dinner first. Lord knows how many hours its been since you last ate."

You snorted, "Relax, it hasn't been that long."

"Oh yeah? When was the last time?" He looked at you with raised eyebrows and an expression that said he already knew your answer was going to be ridiculous. And if there was anything you learned tonight, it was that Steve was highly skilled at knowing when you were lying, so instead, you left him with a goofy smile and giggle that told him he was absolutely right in his assumption.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," the spot where he sat went cold as he left to the kitchen, fixing two plates for the both of you. You moved the drinks and glasses over to the dining table, using a nearby lighter to ignite the accompanying lavender and vanilla scented candles. Tina Turner's vinyl was replaced with Tears for Fears' album Songs from The Big Chair instead, as Steve used his elbow to dim the kitchen lights, hands full with heavy plates of pasta.

"Oh my gosh, this looks so good! Good job, Stevie," you cheered, as he set your plate down in front of you, pouring you a much needed glass of wine. Your hands shook with hunger or excitement, or both, as you picked up your fork, ready to dig in. "Yeah, don't get too psyched yet. Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks."

"I'm sure it does."

His knee rests against yours as he sits adjacent to you, gathering food on his fork, though his eyes are peering at you, awaiting your verdict. The mouthwatering smell of garlic, butter, cheese and other heaven-sent elements overwhelm your nose and you feel like you can't eat it soon enough. You pause for a beat and so does his heart, hand over your messy mouth as you chew. Steve's hand twitches as he contemplates wiping the sauce from the corners of your lips and licking his finger clean.

"Steve," you begin, eyes flickering shut. "I'm gonna need you to cook for me every night. This is so fucking good." The tension in his face eases at your palpable delight, mission well accomplished. He was proud of himself. Very proud. Almost as much as you were of him.

You throw your head back, the purest form of satisfaction consuming you. "I'm glad you like it, I've been trying to nail it for weeks," Steve laughs, finally taking a bite for himself.

"Well, you've succeeded," you beam, washing it down with a sip of wine. Everybody Wants to Rule the World begins playing and you smile at Steve, knowing it was his favorite song at the moment. You nod your head along as Steve hums. A truly peaceful pocket in time.

Through the large windows opening the living room to the rest of Hawkins, you had the perfect view of the bright lights and mountainous buildings from the neighboring city. It was like the sky had flipped on its axis and the stars weren't in the sky anymore, they were among the trees and high rise properties.

"Steve, look how pretty," you point towards the window as his gaze shifts from you to raindrop-riddled glass. "I love being able to see the city so close. Sucks that we can't see the stars, though. I've always wanted to go stargazing."

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that a while ago. We gotta go one of these days," he replied, shoving a forkful of alfredo into his mouth.

"Oh, did you wanna go too?"

He shrugs his shoulders, chewing before speaking, "Eh, I'm not really a big stars guy. Besides, if I wanna see a pretty little light, all I gotta do is look at you," he says inattentively, going right back to eating as if he hadn't just said the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you.

"Shut up, Harrington," you roll your eyes, letting out a half-hearted laugh as you take your last bite. How could he flirt with you so easily? So carelessly? Couldn't he see that you loved him and that whenever he says things like that it does something to you? Clueless boy.

"I'm serious. Why do you think I always call you sunshine?" He replies, not a hint of irony in his face.

"Steve," you warn, sitting back in your chair. You didn't know where this conversation was going, and you'd be damned if you got your hopes up for what you always got whenever you did: absolutely nothing.

"It's why I love when you wear yellow. Reminds me of the first time I ever saw you," he pressed. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Clueless girl.

"Steve," your voice wavered. "What? Why do you keep saying my name like that?" He laughed, dryly.

He grew worried that he was saying too much. Saying things that a person shouldn't say to their best friend. He took a sip of his wine. Then another. Then another. He was considering just downing the whole glass. Maybe he was saying too much.

Screw that, he was in love with you.

"What're you saying to me right now?" You charged, voice a little harsher than what you'd intended, but you demanded an answer. A straightforward one. "I'm saying that I'm done hiding it."

"Hiding what?"

"That I love you."

The revelation yanks your parted lips shut, unsure of what to say next. You had dreamed for what felt like a lifetime for Steve to say those words to you and at last, it was no longer a dream, but instead reality. The rapid pace of your heartbeat could be felt in your chest and ears, and the butterflies in your stomach were more wild and untamed than ever before.

Steve's eyes didn't leave yours, though the stillness from you was killing him. The silence between you two that was once never awkward or unusual, was now painful and nearly unbearable.

Your dilated pupils scanned over his face, relentlessly. The jokey, teasing grin that he often sported when he was messing with you was unaccounted for. Holy shit. The gate to your thoughts opened once more. "You're serious," you whispered.

"How could I not be?" Steve watched you with adoring eyes, the warm light of the candle giving the melted chocolatey pond the sweetest infusion of honey.

"Kiss me."

Forks and butter knives fall to the ground with several, loud unpleasant clanks as Steve leans over the square dining table, hungrily pressing his lips against yours. His lips are garlicky and a little chapped, as yours probably are as well, yet the kiss is nothing short of perfect.

His mouth does a passionate dance against yours as you follow his lead, embracing the plush little pillows with your own. It was both everything you've imagined it'd be and nothing like you'd thought at the same time. You already knew Steve was an amazing kisser. Anyone who went to Hawkins High knew it. But experiencing it for yourself was completely different and new. It was euphoric.

The two of you have to reluctantly pull yourselves off of each other to catch your breaths. This moment was a long time coming.

Steve's hands are still holding onto to either side of your face, unwilling to let you go just yet. Truly savoring every second of the present. His breath fans across your cupid's bow, as he smiles against your lips. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

Giggling, you wrap your palms and fingers around his wrists, rubbing your nose on his. "Sorry," you shrug, feeling his thumbs caress your warm cheeks.

"Don't be," he shakes his head, engulfing your soft lips into another kiss.

message from jojo: pls comment and reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot <3

[marleyybluu]

Differences

husband!Rio x f!black!OC ( Toni - no relation to Miss Braxton.)

Word count: 3.2k

Content warning: 18+, smut out the ass, riding, fingering, p in v, creampie, use of the word cock sorry oops, baby-making boogie, doubts about marriage, doubts about kids, fluff, Rio being in love, lot of switching between his names, allusion to food play if you squint hard enough (?). lmk if I missed any.

A/N: this was orginally for... someone else iykyk mind your business, but I switched last minute. Also I gave Rio a middle name lol

(Not my gif, found off Pinterest. but FUCK ME he looks good)

They'd been married for four years. They enjoyed their marital life, going on various trips, spending their money all willy-nilly since it was just the two of them, having parties at their house every holiday but something was missing. At least for Toni. She always wanted to be a mother, children invaded her heart and soul her whole life. Her sisters had children that she loved to babysit, she was even in the delivery room a few times. She'd become a teacher for the sole purpose of spending her days with young ones, making a difference in their lives and loving them wholeheartedly as much as she could.

But it seemed like Rio wasn't in the same boat. Which was stupid because they made sure to have this discussion before they got married and he was on board one hundred percent, Toni wanted to make her husband a father, she wanted to see him cradle a little blanket in his arms, she wanted to see him snuggling next to the chubbiest cheeks and she wanted to see his face light up at their first word but, again, he seemed to not want it for himself.

It was frustrating.

She'd let the four years pass, it was a good time window, they had time to get their lives together and buy a house, fully furnish it, settle into a decent neighbourhood and buy an SUV to fit the little family they dreamed of.

Toni even made sure to let him know when she was ovulating, the perfect opportunity to try and make a child, but he'd shrivel up and disappear when she brought it up. Then she'd spend her nights quietly doubting his interest in kids, his interest in her.

They hadn't spoken in four days, the aftermath of their first real argument, the vibes in the house were heavy and sometimes a bit awkward. She even started staying late at work to avoid him even longer.

They weren't all that selfish, they still said good morning and good night but that was about it. Little to her knowledge it was killing Rio. He hated the silent treatment from her, she was his girl they talked all the time, this had been the best relationship he'd ever been in, he didn't want to fuck it up but it felt like he already did.

He tried sneaking his way back into her heart by leaving little love notes, cooking her favourite meals and turning on her favourite shows in hopes she'd join him on the couch but all he got was the cold shoulder and he understood. He fucked up big time.

"I'm ovulating." She stated plainly. Rio just blinked and shrugged. She groaned. "Christopher, I can't do this anymore, I'm dropping hints that I want to start trying and you... you ignore me."

"I'm not ready."

"When will you be? Because I am."

He chuckled nervously. "Come on, Toni, we cannot be parents. We'll fuck it up."

The look on her face sent his heart into the pit of his stomach, her eyes glossy with tears coming in, and a harsh; "Fuck you, Christopher!"  To follow suit. It stung hearing those words, if she ever said them it was more so in a playful manner but this time she had rage, anger behind her words and rightfully so. But tonight he was determined to make amends, he could not keep living like this.

It was Friday, and Toni decided she'd come home a little earlier. Rio sat up quickly at the sound of her car door slamming and the keys on her keychain jingling as she sifted for the house key. The door opened and he tried his best to keep his cool. "Hi, darlin." He greeted.

"Hey." She said in the most monotone voice he'd ever heard. "Hungry?" He asked. "Nah, I'm cool."

Toni slipped off her shoes and crept up the stairs to their room, she placed her purse on a chair nearby and sighed, just ready to shower and lay down for the rest of the weekend. She walked past their bathroom intending to head to her Vanity but a red spot on the floor caught her eye, and then another... and another. But they weren't spots, they were rose petals, a trail of them leading up to the tub that was already filled with water, the smell of her lavender bath bomb invading her senses. On the counter were a few lit candles and her little speaker so she could play music.

She swallowed her smile and headed back to the room to collect her clothes for the night. Meanwhile, Rio was finishing the final touches on his persuasive dinner downstairs. He made Macaroni just the way she taught him, some rice and chicken, even topped it off with a red velvet cake... okay so he bought the cake but it was the thought that counted right?

He set up the table for both of them to eat together, he set up the forks and knives on the table with a small vase of her favourite flower, pink Dahlia's. His palms were suddenly sweaty, tonight was make or break. If he didn't fix things tonight he had no idea where they would stand after.

Almost an hour later, Toni decided she'd close the distance between them only because she was hungry. Her feet pressed against the carpeted stairs as she descended onto the main floor, the living room was empty, Rio left whatever he was watching on pause. Her head whipped over to the kitchen smelling a lovely fragrance, she followed the trail and stopped in her tracks at the opening to the kitchen. She watched as Rio scrambled to plate their food, she tilted her head and smiled lightly, her eyes slowly forming into hearts. Oh, how she loved him.

"Do you want help?" She asked making her presence known, Rio shook his head. "Just sit and be pretty." She giggled. "I have no problem doing that."

She sat around the table, her eyes landing on the Dahlia's, her smile widened. "You got these for me?"

"Of course," He replied walking with two plates in his hand like a waiter, he put hers down first and then his. "Any drink requests?" He asked. She motioned her finger in a 'come here' motion, his eyebrows knitting with confusion but following her non-verbal instruction, she cupped his face pulling him even closer until their lips, moulding into one. She'd been wanting to kiss him for days, she didn't know if she could ever hold a grudge this long again.

The kiss was quick, just a little show of appreciation. She could see a light shade of pink take over his cheekbones. "Do we have any wine?"

"Went and got two new bottles." He says matter of factly. Toni pecked his lips again before sending him off for her drink. He grabbed two wine glasses and the bottle. "You're going to drink wine?" She asked in utter confusion. He couldn't stand wine, his famous line was 'I don't know how you drink this shit.'

He shrugged sitting down. "I can drink wine."

"Christopher... baby you hate wine."

"I can learn to like it."

She knew he was doing everything to soften her up, but the look on his face when he took a first sip was priceless. "Go and get a beer, leave me and my wine alone." He chuckled and quickly grabbed a bottle from the fridge.

The two sat and actually conversed for the first time in four days. It was nice. They talked without missing a beat, he was making her smile and laugh, she told him about the kids at work and the twinkle in her eye at the smallest mention of them was beautiful. She truly loved her students, they made her day every day with the silly stuff they'd say to her. He was in love with how motherly she could be toward everyone, how forgiving she was of anyone and especially of him. He didn't deserve her and he'd made it known numerous times and in the same amount she'd reassured him that he was just for her.

In the middle of her ramble, she noticed the way he was staring at her and suddenly she became shy. "What?" She asked. "I love you, mama."

"I love you too, Christopher."

He shook his head vigorously. "No, I love you more than you could ever imagine, Toni. And I am so so sorry for what I said."

She sighed. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay. You will be an amazing mom to our kids and I couldn't picture anyone else having them, shit I couldn't even picture having a family until you came, it wasn't in the cards for me." He confessed. "My whole life has changed and I'm forever grateful for it. I want it to keep changing."

She tugged on her bottom lip, trying her best to swallow her tears. "When I saw how my words affected you, baby, my heart broke. I never want to be the reason you're sad. Never. I've missed you these few days. I need you back. I'm sorry."

Toni was speechless, her lips parted to say something but how do you respond to the sweetest apology ever?

Her eyes darted between his pretty brown ones, she stood up and walked over to him, swinging her leg over his she planted herself comfortably on his lap. His hands instantly rested on her hips. She didn't say anything, just leaned down and kissed him and he could swear that on her lips he could taste his past, his present and his future and she was there for every step, for every second. He wouldn't dare say such foolishness to her again.

Toni could feel a little poke through his sweats, she quietly moaned into his mouth, his hands exploring her warm chestnut skin under her shirt, his fingers trickling down her back. His lips moved to her chin and down to her neck to the spot he knew oh so well, his facial hair tickling her skin only adding to the sensation and a ray of goosebumps formed on her skin. "Christopher...mmm." Was all she could mutter, her hips involuntarily moving back and forth desperately searching for friction to soothe the aching of her clit. He got the message though, firmly splaying his hands under her ample ass, he stood up and she wrapped her legs around him.

He was halfway out of the kitchen when he realized; "Wait, I got you a red velvet cake."

Toni laughed, and she kissed his forehead, god he was so cute. "Boy, forget the cake. Take me upstairs and you can eat a different cake."

Rio raised his eyebrows, didn't have to tell him twice. "That's why I married yo ass girl."

She gladly hung off of him while he carried her up the stairs and once they made it to the room he dropped her on the bed, her sweet laughter filled the room. He settled between her legs, peppering her with kisses and affection. "I can't wait to see you, walking around here with a little belly, carrying around our love." He twitched at the thought and she noticed. A small surprised look on her face. "Is the thought of me pregnant... turning you on?"

"No." He quickly denied it. "Christopher Javier Martínez, yes it does." She teased reaching in between them to cup his hardening erection. "Mm, so you want to fill me up? Hm?" Her voice was so smooth and silky yet seductive, her lips pressing against his only for a moment. "You want to see me carrying your baby around? How swollen and plump my breasts are gonna get? Practically spilling over my tops."

"Toni." He groaned. She giggled but her taunting was cut short when he reached into her (well, his) boxers, his fingers teasing her slit, her wetness coating him. Her back arched as he quickly dipped his fingers inside her heat and back out. "Stop playin' with me." She moaned. "Why?"

Her shirt slid up her torso and past her breasts exposing her erect nipples, his mouth quickly latching onto one, his tongue swirling around her pretty brown areolas, so delicious. His free hand massaged her other one, his thumb and index fingers playing with her nipple. Her back arched and her legs squirm under him.

"Christopher, baby, please." She whined. He chuckled and something about was kind of sinister like his intent was to tease her all night until she begged for what she wanted. He popped her nipple out of his mouth, planting a kiss on it before moving on to the next, his hips grinding into hers pressing his clothed cock on her needy clit. "Yes... oh, I need more, please." She gasped.

He kissed between the valley of her breasts, down her torso and finally reaching his destination above the band of her underwear, he tugs them off in almost a hungry manner, his mouth attaching to her pussy like a magnet. His tongue going to work on her clit, his thumb caressing the rest of her slit. Toni's entire body shivered, her legs slowly closing around his head, he used his free hand to smack her inner thigh, she squealed and spread them out, holding the under of her thighs for support.

Her eyes glided to the back of her head, she squirmed, her back arching just a little bit. "Oh... y-yeah." Her toes cracked while pleasure coursed through her veins. Rio hummed against her sensitive nub, his own hips losing themselves as he hunched against the mattress with neediness. Her thighs trembled as they partially rested on his shoulders. She moaned and whined, whimpered and croaked as he devoured her existence.

"fuck, baby, I'm so close." She warned with her jaw slacked as the hairs on her arm stood, her body stiffened, her nails scratched at his scalp with appreciation and love as he carried her through the tantalizing loops of her orgasm.

She was dripping down his beard and he smiled against her thigh, his teeth gently biting on the flesh. "Oh!... Mr. Martinez." She giggled. He kissed his way back up her body, his lips landing on her chin. "I'm so glad I married you." She hummed running her nails over his skin. "Hm, I love you, ma." He cooed pressing a kiss to her nose. Rio slid off his sweats and boxers, dick sliding between her soaking folds. Her hand reached between them wrapping her fingers around his well-sized shaft.

Their lips connect as she guides him inside her soft walls. She gasped and softly moaned as he eased his way in until she was stuffed. Toni wrapped her legs around his waist. "You good?" Just checking. She nodded, too full to speak. His lips occupied her neck, her mind in the clouds as he fucked her stupid. Mutters and mumbles of "fuck me! Yes!" Or "right there!" As he skillfully worked his hips. He held her close, his face buried in the curve of her neck. His thrusts were hard and slow, he was making her feel every inch, every bit of stretch he provided.

Her high creeping its way into her bones, her moans became louder as he consistently tapped against her g-spot. There was no way he was about to make her nut again in such a short amount of time. He could feel her juicy walls contracting around him, hugging him so tight. "You're so wet for me, huh, my pretty baby?" 

Toni's jaw slacked while he talked to her, nibbling on her ear. "So fucking wet, can feel it dripping down my balls, fuck." 

She whined. "I can't- shit! shit! ooooh!" 

He chuckles as he pulls out, regrettably at that. Toni cried out, her climax so close yet so far. Rio fell onto the bed, slapping her thigh he said, "Get on top." 

She sucked her teeth, in no mood to be on top, still irritated from being denied her needs. Rio pinched her and she yelped. "Ow! You dick!" She laughed slapping his arm. "Hurry up and get on this dick." He urged pulling her arm to help her over. She swung her leg across his body, perching herself on his lap like earlier. His dick resting perfectly against one of her cheeks. She looked down at him and he was so fucking pretty. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, her eyes landing on that notorious Eagle tattoo on his throat then down over the rest that he had scattered on his body, she moaned at that alone. 

She leaned forward, raising her hips and skillfully lining him up with her entrance, no hands needed. She watched as his rosy lips parted slightly and a small crease in between his eyebrows formed when they came together. "Fuuuuck." He dragged out feeling his dick be re-enveloped in her velvety walls. Toni moved her hips back and forth with one goal in mind, to get herself off. She used her knees as leverage to lift her hips up and back down, her ass jiggling when colliding with his thighs. With her lip between her teeth, her head tossed back she got to work on him. 

Rio's hands gladly squeezed at her sides, her moans filling the room once again. "You're so fucking pretty on top of me, mama." He encouraged, but he truly meant it, she looked like a fucking angel. "Oh god, oh god... fuck yes, Rio!" He felt himself twitch, his wife rarely called him by his street name, she only did it when she wanted to tease him, loved to do it when they were around others. 

He groaned spanking her. She smiled, a hazy look in her eyes. "What's my name, mama?" 

Toni cried out, her head falling forward as she bounced out her orgasm. "Fu-fuuuck, Rio!" 

"Squeezing this dick so fuckin' tight, come on..." He sat up hooking his arm around her waist, his tongue darting out to the underside of her breast, tasting the saltiness of her sweat. Toni sang out his name, her back arched and her eyes rolled. He grabbed her hips and guided her up and down, her body going limp. "Shit! Oh... Toni, I'm comin' baby." He growled through gritted teeth, he pressed his forehead against her sternum and she softly smiled feeling his warm seed spread inside her. "Fuck... that feels so good." She giggled, she was cock drunk. He kissed her glistening skin. 

They stayed like that for a moment, she kissed the top of his head, her hands on his shoulders as she slowly pushed him onto his back again, she climbed off of him and sighed in satisfaction. "You want something to drink?" He asked, she shook her head. "Nah, you gotta hydrate ma. I'm making sure I put a baby in you tonight." He laughed lightly smacking her thigh. Her cheeks warmed as a smile fell onto her face. 

She watched as Rio, naked and all, left the room to go downstairs. "Bring the cake too!"Toni shouted, he could just hear the smirk in her voice.

"You are so nasty!" He yelled back.

 "You love it though!" 

If you liked this fic free to like this fic, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. peace and love, see you in the next one 🤙🏾 If you're interested in reading other fics based on songs just like this one you can find them here in 'The Mixtapes.' playlist.

tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @rio-reid-whoreee @skyesthebomb tags that might be interested: @bigenergy777 @realhotgurlshit @lovedlover

[silverflqmes]

agszc with self care/slice of life comfort?

i've been feeling really down with myself for a bit now & i could use that extra push of feeling a bit better :,) perhaps some ideas could include like: maybe distracting the reader from a failed exam by going shopping together, grocery shopping and cooking a meal together at home, perhaps that one rp with noya where he was kissing insecurities away (hi yes its sky), maybe a pep talk to help with motivation, hmm what else ALSO U DONT HAVE TO DO THESE EXACT THINGS IM JUST GIVING IDEAS... i just want the boys there for me soBS (esp zack and cloud since yk favs.)

໒⦂ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hey queen i did headcanons for this because it seemed better suited, i hope the post helps you feel better at least, you can do it<3

genre. comfort + crack

for @melukonova <3

ft. sephiroth, cloud strife, zack fair, genesis rhapsodos, angeal hewley

gender neutral! reader.

➫ 𝓢𝗘𝗣𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ for whatever reason that your day and mood has been sullied, sephiroth is already on it and is doing everything in his power to try and make you feel better.

⌗ he’s not the best with handling emotions, as he has difficulty with understanding his own, but wants to help — it hurts him to see you ache like this and to know he couldn’t prevent your suffering🙁

⌗ offers to masamune whoever brought your pain, even if it’s an inanimate object incapable of fighting back.. it’s sweet of him ( and it becomes difficult to suppress your smile )

⌗ just kidding ( not really. ), he comes to the conclusion that a self care day is likely the best approach to make you feel better — genesis had brought the idea up once before

⌗ sephiroth wasn’t exactly one for worrying for his well being, he didn’t have much time to sit down and do so anyway.. but he figured he might try that out with you

⌗ and so, after getting off work, he made a point to grab some supplies from the store, which included these super cute kitty headbands to push your hair back!!

⌗ self care portion of the day ensues and ends with takeout and some cuddling on the couch to some silly sitcoms. laughter cures the blues right? so that’s just what he’s going for to see you smile again<3

➫ 𝓒𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗗 𝓢𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗙𝗘 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ having a bad day? cloud’s been there and is ready to lend an ear to listen. he isn’t the most optimistic person and doesn’t have the best way with words, but he is willing to help!

⌗ he’s a bit awkward with the advice ( he might interest you in a sarcastic comment- kidding, maybe.. ) and words of consolation, but he’s doing his best and is determined to get his words across to you.

⌗ he offers to take you on a delivery with him, a drive can help sometimes with getting out of the house and just getting fresh air — or well.. as fresh as the air can be in midgar / edge..

⌗ part of him thought you would be reluctant and would argue on why and how you should continue to rot in your bed — but you were oddly willing ( maybe because you always have to ask to join.. )

⌗ either way, made his job a hundred times easier and he was glad to see you cooperating with him because he thought he would have needed to drag you by the ankles..

⌗ the drive goes nicely, you can feel yourself begin to calm down as you hold onto him and watch the scenery pass you by; it’s such a simple thing but it’s quelling your nerves and intrusive thoughts, thankfully

⌗ once the package is delivered, cloud spares a little of his time before your scheduled drive back home and takes you out for lunch along with a little stroll around the town🫶

➫ 𝓩𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝓕𝗔𝗜𝗥 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ zack is the definition and embodiment of an emotional support animal. whatever, or even whoever, decided to ruin the flow of your day, he’s there to provide comfort!

⌗ has a pretty good grasp on emotions, even if there are some things he might not fully get, but he wants to help in any way he can! seeing you sad is the worst thing ever, how dare, whatever hurt you, steal away that smile of yours??

⌗ his best course of action is to take you out and doodle up a list of activities for you to do to uplift your mood. distraction is temporary, of course, but it works its course and he was going to make it succeed!

⌗ said list includes visiting the arcade, a walk through the mall, buying you flowers, feeding and petting any strays with your leftovers from where you guys ate and maybe even karaoke while the night is still young..

⌗ should the karaoke go as planned, it would be a mission to get zack out of there LMAO he wants to do cheesy romantic duets with you and boyband songs..

⌗ despite your whines and protests, they do not fail to make you grin and wash away whatever ickiness you had felt earlier.

⌗ it’s a full day that ends up getting you tired by the final activity, but it was all part of the plan!!! distraction and getting a good nights sleep! perfect, right?

➫ 𝓖𝗘𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗜𝗦 𝓡𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗦𝗢𝗗𝗢𝗦 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ how dare someone or something sour your mood and evening! genesis is completely distraught and is prepared to do whatever means necessary to exact his revenge..

⌗ fires will be set ( not really but it sounds like a really good idea at the moment ESPECIALLY BECAUSE TUMBLR DIDNT SAVE MY SHIT AND I HAVE TO REWRITE THIS — im sorry.. um moving on.. )

⌗ in the end, fires were not set.. he opts for taking you out to dinner and bringing you to loveless avenue because it just works, and he wants to spoil you with gifts<3

⌗ dinner was lovely and like a fairytale — i mean being with genesis in general was like a fairytale, but he somehow always seemed to exceed your expectations..

⌗ you’re feeling slightly better as you exit the vicinity, taking an idle walk down sector eight since he insisted on a stroll — not because he wanted to check the loveless merch, definitely not. of course not.

⌗ he ends up buying you something your gaze lingered on a little longer than you had planned for, which you protested on at first.. but then you gave in, because it was genesis — aaand he also bought it regardless of what you said..

⌗ he walks with you hand in hand on your way home and proposes his idea of setting fires if you were still upset. you of course, say no.. i mean, psh a fire??? yeah, right..

➫ 𝓐𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗔𝗟 𝓗𝗘𝗪𝗟𝗘𝗬 ୨୧ ˎˊ˗

⌗ bad mood? rough day in general? angeal is prepared to do whatever is necessary to help you through your mood — anything to return your happiness to you rather than this funk you’re in.

⌗ his best course of action was to take you to the market to buy the necessary ingredients to prepare your favorite meal! they say food cures any blues, perhaps that applies here as well?

⌗ unwilling as you were to leave the comfort of your bedroom, he managed to get you out with the promise of pushing you in the cart..

⌗ yes you wanted to be pushed in the shopping cart, who wouldn’t want to be pushed in a shopping cart after a shit day?

⌗ the small joyride seems to lift your mood a little and he even bought you some of your favorite snacks to have after the meal he’s preparing<3 what a guy🥰

⌗ arriving home, he immediately gets to work on dinner, and after a few back hugs from you along with a brief sway while he waited on the food to finish, it was finally time to set the table!

⌗ nothing too fancy but you appreciated it nonetheless, as you could taste the love and care in each bite you took. truly angeal was the gift of the goddess!!!

notes. okay uh this is not the best quality because stupid tumblr did not save ( GET AN AUTOSAVE FEATURE PLS I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE ) — but i hope you liked it and that you feel better mami<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[ladysmutwriter]

Morantic: Better luck next time. (1)

Bruce Wayne/Batman x Female Reader.

Inspired by "There is no good or bad, just actions".

⚠️: This chapter does not include anything NSFW, however the next chapters will include graphic content. MDNI, dub-con, violence, stalking, obsessive love disorder, eventual smut.

You stared at the window, seeing your town slowly go tinier and disappear as you went into unknown territory. Your hands nervously played with themselves, picking at your skin as the train softly moved, the occasional sound of someone coughing or someone with their phone wathing videos being the only things distracting you.

Searching in your bag, you took out your printed curriculum, such a simple paper yet it included so much from you: your full name, capacities, where you studied, etc. Your parents had made sure you never missed a single class, even in university. They had made sure to give you the best tutors; without them, you'd never have been as prepared as you were today, and now your biggest test was about to begin. Gotham. A city with no laws, filled by sin and corruption, where the strongest survived and the weakest died with no mercy.

But you were here to make a change—you knew you had it in you.

As you drifted off thinking, you slowly closed your eyes, falling asleep as the day outside became darker 'til night arrived. A few hours later, the train stopped.

(...)

You walked to your new apartment, your low heels clicking against the dirty floor as you struggled to carry your heavy suitcase, filled with clothes and books. Opening the door, you felt the smell of moisture on the walls and dirty feet. You had some work to do; after all, this was your new home. The hours passed as you cleaned, your limbs aching as you made sure that no room smelt like shit, successfully making it look somewhat hygienic; you still had to buy furniture and some food; your stomach aching in hunger—outside the morning was arriving, the first rays of sun coloring the grim city, making you give a small smile—your first day here.

To no one's surprise, getting outside was awful. On your way to a furniture store, you saw homeless people eating rats all the way to someone being stabbed in an alley. But as you bought a simple bed (king-sized; you were a messy sleeper), some stuff for the kitchen, and a couch, you went to buy something to eat. On the way to it, you stopped at a drug store, buying a first aid kit since you never knew when you'd need it.

Going back home with a warm meal in a plastic bag and the other one filled with supplies, you arrived at your apartment. You looked at the hour, 3 PM; the furniture was supposed to arrive at 5 PM, so you had some time to kill.

Sitting down to eat as you watched Youtube on your phone, then you took a nap on the hard floor, the hours of no sleep taking a poll on you, and even if it was short and uncomfortable, that nap helped as you now felt ready to keep cleaning. A few minutes later, your doorbell rang; the furnite had arrived.

As the men let the boxes inside, you began decorating the place with the new stuff—the couch next to the window, the bed in the side room, etc.—and soon enough, it was 9 PM. Feeling your stomach growl as you felt hungry, you called for some Chinese takeout. Probably half an hour passed as you were called by the delivery man, and going down to the first floor, you picked it up, paid, and went up—except you heard something on the fire exit stairs, as if someone had collapsed on them.

Peeking your head out of the window, you saw someone in what seemed like full black armor slumped against the metal stairs outside your room, a puddle of blood running down his armor.

Groaning, you thought of your chances—you had heard something about this "vigilante" everyone called Batman, your guess being that this was him, or perhaps it was some sort of comic villain that once you healed him would gut you like fish. But your morals won the fight, and you decided to climb out of your window and drag him inside your home. It wasn't easy; he weighted a shit ton and was leaving a bloody mess as you dragged him through your floor. You laid him down on your couch, quickly taking off his chest plate to see how deep his wound was. And holy sh*t, were you met with a nice view, a nice, toned torso, pale skin covered by different scars, and soft skin to the touch? You had to take a deep breath as you collected your thoughts and went to heal him up.

It probably took you about an hour and a half to stitch his wound, clean the blood, etc. Your eyes tired as you yawned, feeling proud of your little work. Moving to discard the bloody gloves, you went outside for a smoke break, hoping the stranger would wake up and lean by himself so you'd avoid the uncomfortable moment of being like, "Hey, I sort of practiced my doctor skills on your unconscious body!" Yeah, that'd be too awful.

Thankfully for you, as you were on the metal staircase smoking, the man inside woke up, his senses being on high alert as his last memory was being stabbed on the chest, his eyes frantically moving around the room, only to find first aid kits and some boxes filled with house stuff. Seeing your shape outside the window as you smoked, he took the chance to slip out of the front door without making a single sound.

[atinystraynstay]

I'd Wait For You - Joshua Hong

Synopsis: Joshua was your best friend, the person who has witnessed you grow and blossom. That includes being front row to watching you fall in and out of love with people. Joshua was convinced he could treat you better. Could you find yourself to let him in?

Pairing: non-idol! Joshua Hong x fem reader

Genre: Angst, childhood friends to lovers, fluff here and there!

Word Count: 2.3k

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When Joshua thought of the person he was, it was because of you. You were the one who helped him pick out clothes so he found his style, you were the one who boosted his confidence he he doubted himself and pushed him to try new things, and you were the one who helped him made bad decisions sometimes in the hopes of making long-lasting memories. You were his person.

It was written by the universe that the two of you would be best friends. With your mothers being so close, there is no denying that you two will always have an important place in each other's lives.

Ever since you were younger, you two didn't go somewhere without the other. You attended the same schools, even the same college. Sure, college led you two to different friend groups, different activities, and different majors. But you always made time for each other even when life got busy. You two would study constantly and promised to have one meal together once a week. And you two never broke that promise.

Anyone who witnessed your friendship always commented there was something more. Joshua saw it too. He easily fell for you. How couldn't he? You accepted every version of himself and were the person who brought him an immense source of comfort. He couldn't imagine life without you.

Unfortunately, he had to imagine what it would be like to be with you.

"Do you think he's worth it?" You sighed.

The two of you were on FaceTime. It was a Tuesday night. While Joshua was at home, waiting for his food delivery, you were busy getting ready for a date.

Part of the reason why Joshua had to imagine what life would be like if you two were together is because you were seeing someone. For the past few months, you've been dating this guy named Ben. Now, Joshua didn't think much of Ben at first. He didn't seem like your type, so he thought he would come and go.

And he has to some extent. Ben and you had this awful habit of breaking up and getting back together. While it pained Joshua to see you with someone else, he loved the moments you confided him about your dating woes. He took mental notes of dos and donts for when you two (hopefully) get together. Ben was striking out left and right, mainly due to his poor communication. What Joshua didn't understand was why you always found yourself going back to him.

"Y/n, I don't know. You guys break up so much, I've lost count," he laughed. "It's only been 3 times," you groaned. "3 times what? This week?" "But he said he's changed this time. I mean, he even sent flowers to my apartment after our argument two nights again. That's got to mean something, right?" Joshua wanted to roll his eyes so much at your rationale. He adored you with every fiber in his being, and he didn't want to come across as dismissive, but he felt frustrated both because of you and for you. Ben was not worth it in his eyes. Nobody is worth it for you except for him. But he was your best friend. That was his role. "Maybe, angel. But there's only so much flowers can do to make up for how he treats you sometimes." Your smile had flattened by Joshua's words. And it pained him. He never wanted to be a source of sadness in your life. I guess that's why Joshua often pushed his feelings for you aside. He didn't want to be selfish and confess because that might cause a bigger mess. He loved you. He has since he was 8 years old. If you only saw him as a best friend, he would proudly take that role.

In a perfect world, you would confess to Joshua your feelings. He was ready to embrace those feelings head-on because he knew how he felt about you. What kept him back was not knowing how you felt towards him. You've always been so prominent in each other's lives. He didn't want to imagine a world without you. He was terrified that if he did ever confess, it would only push you away.

Joshua had found himself as the leading man in a tragic love story. "Just promise me something?" He requested. "Whatever you decide, follow your heart."

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You had to hang up the phone call in order to get ready for your date. Joshua sighed once you face vanished from his phone. He set the phone on the coffee table before driving his fingers through his hair.

How could this happen? You were supposed to be with him, not with some random guy you met who knows where? Not with someone who doesn't see your value.

The whole situation frustrated him beyond belief. On paper, you guys were a perfect match. You two knew each other like the back of your hand. Even when you did have a disagreement, you guys would not allow it to blow up. You spoke to each other with respect, even if you were both angry because you cared about each other. In some ways, you could say you loved each other. Joshua definitely was in love with you.

He has received relentless teasing from his friends about his lack of making a move on you. His friends thought even pushing might cause him to crack. And it almost did. Yet, he was still afraid of losing you and now he might actually be.

You always saw him as a friend, or at least that's what Joshua believed. You two were best friends, nothing more and nothing less. This wasn't some love story where the childhood best friends fall for each other, no matter how many times he prayed it would happen. This was his reality. If he had to let you go to keep you in his life, he would. And he would be there to pick up the pieces each time.

Suddenly, a buzz brought Joshua out of his mind and back to the present moment. He sat up a little straighter, looking towards the door of his apartment. Did he hear that correctly? He glanced towards the clock on the wall. 8:16pm.

Ding dong. Who could that be?

Joshua pushed himself off of the couch before shuffling towards the door. It was just a short walk towards the front of the apartment. He slowly unlocked the top lock and twisted the doorknob to unlock his front door.

There you were.

"Y/n?! What happened?" "Why didn't you fight for me?"

Your voice was calm, yet your body language screamed rage. You had your hair pulled back in a clip, exposing your bare face to the world. You looked divine, but Joshua didn't have time to compliment you. He noticed how your eyebrows were slightly scrunched up while you stared into him. He thought your gaze was going to burn a hole right through them. You were wearing a zip-up hoodie and sweatpants.

"Answer me, Joshua."

Oh no, I'm in deep shit. He was at a loss for words as he stared at you. His mind racking through all the interactions you had. Did he say something over FaceTime? Did he forget to say something? Did you ask him to do something but he forgot? He was drawing a blank.

"Do you like me yes or no, Joshua? Because everyone is saying you do besides you."

His eyes grew wide at that statement. Who spilled? "Y/n, listen-" "No, Joshua, you listen. How dare you let me go on dates with people who treat me poorly. You're my best friend! We're supposed to tell each other everything." That part you whispered. "How could you not tell me?"

"What a damn minute," Joshua finally said. He had a raised eyebrow before opening the door all the way. He stepped aside to let you in, motioning for you to follow him. "I am not going to argue with you outside of my apartment. Get in." You sighed and nodded, slowly stepping in. Obviously something happened in between from the moment you guys to now. Who did you speak to? Who told you his secret? Why were you angry?

Once you were fully into his apartment, Joshua closed the door. You immediately found a spot on his couch, right beside where he was previously sitting. Your hands were locked in front of you, your one leg bouncing. Your breathing was starting to slow down a bit but you gaze was still locked on him. While not as intense, you still had your eyes trained on him.

"Can I get you a water or something before we continue this conversation?" He asked gently.

"There you go again!" You groaned. Your head leaned until it hit the pillow behind you. Your gaze is now trained on the ceiling above you two. He was surprised, completely speechless as he thought he was doing the right thing. "I'm so sick of you being nice to me."

Joshua raised an eyebrow before shuffling over to you. He took a seat on the couch beside you but kept enough distance. He wasn't sure how to process all that was transpiring, but he needed to understand where you were coming from. And apparently have some explaining to you.

"Y/n, sweet girl, you need to tell me what's going on." "You is what is going on," you confessed.

Slowly, you sat up until you were at eye level with him once again. The room was tense. He was nervous, afraid that what you had been told was going to bring his worst fear to reality - that he might lose you. "Joshua, you've set too high of a standard for me. You're kind without asking for anything in return. You treat me like a fucking princess when I'm only your best friend. I'm angry that we aren't together but you treat me better than any guy I've been with."

Was this actually happening? Were you confessing to him? "Y/n, do you like me?" 'I have liked you since I knew what it meant to have a crush on someone," you admitted. "But."

Not the cursed 'but.' "We're best friends. I didn't eat to be presumptuous and think you like me when we've been friends for so long. But then Seungkwan told me that you had feelings for me yesterday. I didn't think it was true especially not when you pushed me to go out with someone else tonight."

Fuck. "Y/n, look, we are best friends," Joshua began. You looked at him as if you just stabbed him in the heart. "But, I fell in love with my best friend."

Very gently, he took both of your hands in his. You stared up at him with a facial expression he couldn't recognize. This was new for both of you. You were venturing into uncharted territory for the two of you. His thumbs caressed over your knuckles which both soothed your nerves but caused your heart to pound faster. "This was not the way I planned on telling you," he confessed. "I actually wanted to tell you once you were single again because I didn't want to stand in the way of being happy." This time, you reached out to him. Keeping one hand in his, your other hand reached over to run your fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back to expose his face more. You seemed to relax under your touch which made you smile for the first time that evening. "Josh, I'm my happiest when I'm with you. Have I not made that clear in all the years we've known each other?" "Y/n, you know I have too much respect for you and too much invested in this friendship to just assume someone like you could ever be into me." You squeezed his hand gently, unable to stifle the giggle leaving your lips. You moved closer to him, our lips almost right under his. "This is so silly. What are we doing? Why are we keeping ourselves from being our happiest versions of ourselves?" He smirked at your question. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek gently. His thumb caressed over your cheek affectionately as he gazed into your eyes. He always has been mesmerized by the fact that your eyes captured any light in the room. They sparkled like two disco balls. "Let's change that," he murmured.

Time stopped. He leaned in so his lips grazed against yours as if he was testing the waters. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable with what was about to happen, as there was no turning back. When you didn't pull away, he got the green light he's been chasing after. His lips fully pressed against yours.

Your head gently tilted up, leaning to the side so your lips fit against him like two missing puzzle pieces. It felt like tiny sparks were going off against your lips. It was a feeling the two of you would soon be addicted to. And it felt so comfortable, so natural. His lips slowly chased after yours for a moment.

Even though he felt the urge to continue kissing you, to never let this moment pass, he did pull back. His forehead found yours, revealing the wide grin the two of you wore. He couldn't help but chuckle before pecking your lips once more. Joshua was just over the moon. He was eager for whatever may be next for the two of you, especially now that there were no limitations. You were his best friend, but now the girl who knew how he felt.

"I kept my promise you know," you spoke softly.

Joshua raised an eyebrow but kept a warm smile. Now what were you talking about? "You had me promise to follow my heart. And I did. You've been my heart, my love all this time."

[katethetank]

The Dungeon - Chapter 6

Rating: 18+, minors gtfo Chapter Summary: They boys have their second date, Eddie learns more about The Party, things start to get a little heated CW: Discussions about coming out, smooching, just a smidge of dry humping Tags: Alternate Universe - modern setting, Rock Star Eddie, Counselor Steve, Eddie is gay, Steve is bi, slow burn, smut Word Count:4,560

Chapter 5<<Masterlist>>Chapter 7

The next few weeks managed to fly by. Steve has been texting, or calling, or FaceTiming with Eddie practically every day. When he sent him his address for the date, he wasn’t at all expecting gifts to arrive. He had a particularly hard day at work and when he texted Eddie that he was too exhausted to make himself dinner, he was beyond shocked when he heard a knock on his door and opened it to find an Uber Eats guy standing there with takeout from the Thai place in his neighborhood.

He also got a Muppets postcard in the mail from Greenville, MS - birthplace of Jim Henson - with a note from Eddie saying “Can’t wait to have my own Rainbow Connection with you soon! Are any of the muppets gay? I bet Animal is pan. Janice is definitely a lesbian, and Gonzo is some flavor of queer. See you soon sweetheart! xoxo E.M.”

Then he got a delivery of like, 4 dozen donuts with a note to share them with the kids at the center. He will neither confirm nor deny if that made him burst into tears.

Robin has been super supportive, but the kids have been relentless. After his first date with Eddie, their group text had blown up. 

Dustybuns: STEVE are you gonna tell us anything? Don’t you love us anymore?

🏀Lucas🏀: Yeah what’s going on man? Did you totally blow it?

Mad Max: I bet he blew something 👀

Mike Fucking Wheeler: Dude gross, don’t put that image in my head!

😇 El 😇: Why are you imaging that Micheal?

Mad Max: 💀

🧙Will the Wise🧙: Come on Steve, give us something! We’re dying here!

Mad Max: Is Eddie gonna be our new dad?

Assholes.

Between work, talking to Eddie, and dodging the kids, Steve has been trying to plan the perfect second date. Food has been kind of a love language for him. He wants to show off a bit, but also make something that’s a crowd-pleaser. He had a movie night with Robin recently where they had their eureka moment. 

They were cuddled up on his couch watching Chef for the gazillionth time. It got to the scene where Jon Favreau was cooking for Scarlette Johanssen and they both shot up at the same time shouting, “Sexy Pasta!!!” They’ve made it before together, in a much less sexy way, and it’s become one of their favorite meals.

Once the food was figured out, they made their way to his closet to dissect his entire wardrobe. He needed something comfortable for an at-home date, but sexy enough to highlight his best features. They landed on a pair of dark jeans that were flattering in all the right places and really hugged his ass because it’s your best feature besides your hair, Steve! You gotta show that thing off! They paired that with a plain white undershirt and a short sleeve light wash denim shirt. It kinda had a classic greaser vibe, and really made his arms look nice.

Cut to now, where Steve is in his kitchen, cooking up a storm. He spent the day making sure his apartment was company-ready. Vacuuming, dusting, cleaning every window in the place, scrubbing the toilet, he even made a dessert for later: Oreo brownies. It’s something he’s made for the kids for years and they always beg him to make it for their birthdays. Dutch chocolate brownie batter, with chopped Oreos mixed in, and he tops it with cookies and cream buttercream, more chopped Oreos, and a chocolate ganache drizzle. It’s fucking good.

He’s got an arugula salad on the table ready to go with a lemon vinaigrette. Lights dimmed. Candles lit. Garlic bread prepped. Lemon herb chicken roasting in the oven. Pot of salted water almost ready to boil. A pool of olive oil ready in a pan on the stove. Like twenty garlic cloves thinly sliced. A pile of freshly chopped parsley. Red pepper flakes and sliced lemons next to the pan. All of the prep has helped keep his nerves at bay.

Then, there’s a knock at the door. 

He takes a steadying breath and makes his way over. All of the calls, all of the texts, all of the flirting and planning couldn’t prepare him for what waits on the other side. There stands Eddie, wearing tight black jeans, Chelsea boots, a blood red button down with half of the buttons undone to show off his tattoos. He’s holding his hands behind his back, but Steve can see he’s got his sleeves rolled up to his elbows exposing his slutty forearms. Hair tied up and wavy tendrils framing his face. His beautiful face that has the most stunning smile and dimples for miles.

“Eddie.”

“Hi Stevie.” Eddie brings his hands out from behind him, and he’s holding a bouquet of huge sunflowers. “It’s so good to see you sweetheart.”

He hands over the flowers and Steve is stunned speechless. He wordlessly takes them and steps aside gesturing Eddie in. He closes the door behind him while Eddie slowly spins in a circle taking in his space. 

“Nice place you got here Stevie. It’s really cute. Very…you. Are the flowers ok? I didn’t go overboard, did I?”

Steve’s brain finally comes back online. “They’re gorgeous! Nobody’s ever given me flowers before…I love them.”

Eddie ducks his head and smiles. “It’s the least I could do. I wanted to get you something, and I wasn’t sure what kind you liked. These reminded me of you.”

“That’s really sweet. Thank you, Eddie. Come on in! Let me get these into some water, and I can finish cooking.”

Eddie follows him into the kitchen, his head on a swivel taking in his surroundings. Steve doesn’t have any vases, because ya know, he’s never been given flowers before. But he fishes out a glass pitcher from his cabinet that he usually uses for margaritas, fills it with water and settles the flowers inside. He’s all smiles as he carries them to the table to join the candles. It’s the perfect addition.

“It smells amazing in here. Whatcha got cookin’ good lookin’?”

“Oh my god, no. That was ridiculous!”

“What!” Eddie laughs. “That wasn’t that bad! I’ve definitely said worse. Besides, it’s not just a line. You look amazing.”

Steve scoffs. “Me? What about you! I feel like a schlub when you show up looking like that!” 

“Oh, this old thing? I only wear it when I don’t care how I look!”

Narrowing his eyes, he asks, “Did you just quote It’s a Wonderful Life at me?”

“Goddamn…handsome, funny, sweet, and he gets 1940’s movie references? What can’t he do?!”

“Cook dinner while you distract me with your flirting! Now take a seat and let me work my magic. There’s some sparkling cider on the table, help yourself while I finish this up.”

Eddie dutifully settles himself in a chair and pours himself a glass while Steve gets the pan heating up. They make small talk while he slowly sautées the garlic and drops the spaghetti into the boiling water. The chicken is ready to pull out and rest, and he pops the garlic bread into the oven. Red pepper flakes join the garlic, and the pasta is drained. He adds that to the pan with a sprinkle of salt, the mound of fresh parsley, and squeezes the lemon over the top. It’s when he’s tossing the pasta in the pan that he realizes Eddie’s gone quiet. He looks over his shoulder to find the man dreamily staring at him. Sexy pasta indeed. Thank you Jon Favreau. 

“You ok over there?”

Eddie seems to snap out of it and replies, “Never been better! It’s kind of mesmerizing watching you. Other than Wayne, I don’t think I’ve ever had someone cook for me like this.”

“Well, it’s my pleasure. I really like making food for people. There’s something therapeutic about it I guess? It’s really satisfying taking all these pieces and putting them together into something that everyone can enjoy.”

Eddie’s all dimpled smiles as he talks. “Well I feel bad just sitting here. Is there anything I can help with?”

“Um…Yeah, you wanna cut up the garlic bread?”

Steve pulls it out of the oven as Eddie gets up and makes his way over. Steve hands him a cutting board and bread knife. Eddie gets to work and Steve pulls out a couple plates from the cabinet and starts dishing up the chicken and pasta. He carries the plates over to the table and Eddie follows with the garlic bread. They settle into their seats across the table from each other and Steve is delighted to see that Eddie already poured him a glass of sparkling cider.

“Stevie darling, this looks amazing.” He picks up his glass and holds it out.

Steve copies the motion and before they clink their glasses Eddie toasts, “To another perfect date. And hopefully many more.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Steve whispers as they both take a sip.

Their meal is devoured as they catch up on the little they haven’t already discussed over calls and texts in their time apart. Eddie devours everything, but has a special appreciation for the pasta. The moans he lets out are enough to make Steve squirm in his seat. 

“Stevie, I don’t know what kind of witchcraft you worked in that kitchen, but I am grateful. That’s the best meal I’ve had in a long goddamn time.”

They’re holding hands across the table again, eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “I’m really glad you liked it. It’s one of my favorite dishes. Something Robin and I make together all the time.”

“Well I’m honored that you shared it with me. Everything was perfect. The only thing that will make it better, is if you let me clean up.”

Appalled, Steve tells him, “Absolutely not! This is my mess, I’ll clean it up!”

“Nope. Wayne and I had a deal when I used to live with him. A little rule called ‘I cook, you clean.’ Makes things equal.”

“Yeah, well, Wayne’s not here is he? So that rule doesn’t apply!”

Eddie reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Oh, do you want me to call him and invite him over? Have him give you one of his stern talking-to’s?”

“Oh my god no! Stop! Fine, you can help clean up. But I’m doing it with you!”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “And here I thought you wanted to take things slow.”

“Get out. That was the worst one yet.”

Eddie cackles as he stands and takes their plates. They get the kitchen cleaned up pretty quickly, four hands working better than two, and Steve leads them into the living room. Eddie’s attention is drawn to a picture on the wall of Steve and The Party at their high school graduation.

“Alright, I’ve heard a bit about these troublemakers, now I need you to tell me who’s who.”

Steve smiles like a proud mom (yeah ok, he’s the mom, fine) and starts to point them out. “This is Dustin. He’s the closest thing I have to a brother and a total pain in my ass. Super smart, and he knows it too, which gives him a huge ego. But he’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever known.

“And this guy is Lucas. He’s the only one of The Party who has any interest in sports. When he was in high school I helped him train to get on the basketball team. Made varsity his Sophomore year!”

Steve can see the lack of understanding on Eddie’s face.

“That’s a good thing. Really good. He’s a great athlete and helps out sometimes when I’m coaching at the center.

“The red head here is Max. She and Lucas met in middle school, started dating seriously in high school and they’re pretty much inseparable. She comes off as a hardass but goes pretty soft for Lucas. And only him. Honestly, she can scare the shit out of me sometimes. But she’s like a little sister to me. She had this step brother who was a total asshole. Real pompous dickhead, and a fucking racist to boot. When he found out they were dating he lost it. Thankfully I was there to step in. Took a plate to the head, but it was worth it to keep them safe.”

Eddie, looking horrified, asks, “Did you just say ‘plate to the head’? Are you serious?”

“Oh yeah. He was a total psycho. Got the reminder of it right here.” Steve lifts up his hair right by his temple where the scar is.

Eddie reaches out to run his finger along the mark. “You’re fucking unbelievable Steve. Of course they call you ‘mom’ with how you protect them.”

“Yeah, well…they’re a pretty great group of kids. This one here? That’s Will. He’s an amazing artist. He actually did all the walls at The Dungeon! I’m not really into the game they play, but I gotta say, it looks incredible. He did a really good job.”

“Woah, wait a second! He did all that? When I was looking for a coffee shop I saw it online and the pictures of the interior is what drew me into that place. It looked like a D&D game come to life, or a fucking tavern out of Tolkien novel.”

Nodding his head Steve replies, “Yeah, that’s all Will! It took him weeks to get it all done. I’m so fucking proud of him. He helps out sometimes at the center too. Does art projects with preschool kids, or sits in with Rainbow Connection. He really struggled before he came out in high school. Was totally withdrawn and just a shell of who he was. When he finally found the bravery to tell The Party that he was gay, it was like the light inside him turned back on again. They were all super supportive.

“He was the one who actually made me realize I didn’t need to hide anything. I came out as bi not too long after, and stood by him when he told his family. His mom, Joyce, she’s the best. She had him wrapped up in a hug before he could even finish talking! And his step dad Jim is this strong silent type, right? Big guy, retired cop. He had tears in his eyes and told him that no matter what, he’ll always be there for him…”

Steve’s eyes are starting to water and he attempts to sniffle it back in. Joyce and Hop have been such strong allies for him and Will. They basically unofficially adopted him when they figured out how absent his own parents were. 

A strong hand rubs circles on his back. “You ok there Stevie?”

Steve’s shining eyes meet Eddie’s and he smiles and nods, “Yeah. Yeah I’m ok.”

“What about the other rugrats? That’s the one I saw snapping at you that first day, right?” Eddie asks while pointing to a scowling Mike Wheeler.

“Ha! Yeah, that’s Mike. He’s a little shit. I used to date his sister Nancy in high school and he never forgave me. Takes any opportunity he can to roast me. He’s a good kid though. Smart, creative, fiercely protective of The Party. And he’s dating El, this one here. She’s actually Jim’s adopted daughter and Will’s step sister. She’s a fucking angel. So sweet and empathetic. She really balances him out.”

“Damn honey, seems like you got yourself a nice little family here.”

Steve smiles wide. “I do. I really, really do…So! Movie! What do you wanna watch?”

He leads Eddie over to his dvd collection and lets him peruse the options. He became a bit of a movie buff when he was working at the video rental place with Robin years ago and swears by keeping discs instead of just streaming everything. You never know when Netflix or whoever are going to drop a title.

“Nice selection you got here! I haven’t even heard of some of these. What’s…Velvet Goldmine?”

Steve gasps. “Have you never seen it before?! It’s a queer cult classic! Jonathan Rhys Meyers, Christian Bale, Ewan McGregor-“

“SOLD! Put it on!”

Steve laughs as he pulls the case out and sets up the movie. “And here I was, ready to convince you by saying that you get to see Ewan McGregor dance around naked covered in glitter.”

“You’re not messing with me, are you? Don’t joke about something like that.”

Steve puts his hand on his chest and says, “I would never.”

They settle themselves on opposite ends on the couch  and start the movie. Steve is nervously tapping his foot and keeps stealing glances at Eddie. His beautiful profile lit up by the light from the tv. “You um…you can sit closer if you want.”

Eddie’s attention turns to Steve and he quietly says, “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. You said you wanted to take things slow, so I’m trying to make good on my promise of being a gentleman.”

He can feel his cheeks flush. “I appreciate that Eds. But it’s ok. Get over here.”

They both scoot over and meet in the middle, thighs and shoulders touching. Eddie lifts his arm and drapes it over the back of the couch. “Is this ok?”

Eddie’s just a little taller than him, and he feels small when he looks up at him, tucked under his arm. “More than ok.”

They share a small smile and turn their attention back to the movie. As they get more comfortable in each other's proximity they begin to relax more. Steve leans into Eddie’s side and rests his hand on his knee. Eddie’s arm falls from the back of the couch and settles around his shoulders. His ringed fingers rubbing small circles on his arm. It feels so nice. It feels right.

About halfway through the movie Steve remembers that his brownies are waiting on the kitchen counter. He reaches for the remote and presses pause. “I totally forgot I made us dessert! Do you want some?”

Eddie’s eyes light up. “Stevie, you spoil me! I’d love some.”

He gets up, plates two big squares, and brings them back to the living room. He hands Eddie his plate and starts the movie back up again.

“Sweetheart this looks insane. What did you make?”

“Oreo brownies. They’re a hit with the kids, they have me make it for all of their birthdays. Thought it would be good for tonight.”

Eddie scoops up a forkful and eagerly takes a bite. The moan that leaves his mouth is doing things for Steve. “Holy shit, this is amazing! You made this??”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Honey, I love it. This is so fucking good I could lick the plate clean.”

That doesn’t help the desire forming in Steve’s gut, imagining Eddie’s tongue licking other things. 

Down boy.

They finish their brownies, set the plates on the coffee table, and settle back into their previous position. Eddie’s arm feels like it’s at home wrapped around him. Steve’s heart swells and he can’t help but think I could get used to this. It’s a dangerous thought and he has to remind himself that he’s taking this slow for a reason. Eddie has been nothing but wonderful this whole time, but he’s not quite ready to let his guard down yet.

The movie comes to a close and Steve turns to Eddie to ask, “So, what did you think? Super weird right? Kind of an acquired taste I guess, but it’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh absolutely, it was weird as fuck, but that’s what I loved about it. Totally unconventional, and the music choices were-“ he lifts his hand to his mouth and does a dramatic chef kiss. “This has been a really great night Stevie. Thank you.”

“Of course Eds, I’m glad you’ve had a good time. I’m…I’m glad you’re here.”

They’re both quiet as they take each other in. The dim lighting of the living room casting shadows along their faces. The light from the tv making Eddie’s eyes sparkle. They keep glancing down at each other’s lips and Steve can feel his heart beating in his ears. He wants nothing more than for Eddie to lean in, but true to his word, he’s being a gentleman and not making any move.

Steve takes a deep breath and just above a whisper he says, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Eddie whispers back.

“Will you kiss me?”

Those dimples of his make a reappearance as Eddie smiles and asks, “I’d love to. But are you sure?”

Steve nods and slowly begins to tip his head towards Eddie. “Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Eddie’s free hand comes up and caresses Steve’s cheek. A gentle little touch, featherlight like Steve is something delicate. He’s never felt so held, so adored. Eddie slowly leans in, nuzzles his nose with Steve’s, and finally closes the distance. 

This kiss is a light, tentative thing. Eddie’s lips are so pillowy and soft and gentle. He pulls back slightly to look Steve in the eye. Asking the question without needing words, is this ok? Should we keep going?

Steve then takes the lead, leaning back in and kissing Eddie with a little more force, a little more intent, but still soft and slow. All Steve can hear is the pounding of his heart and the clicking sounds their lips are making and they exchange chaste, sweet kisses. He wants more. Needs more. Needs to know what Eddie tastes like and how his tongue feels in his mouth.

He deepens the kiss, opening his mouth and capturing Eddie’s plump bottom lip, giving it a gentle suck. Eddie lets out a soft moan and opens his mouth in return. Steve tentatively licks at his upper lip and Eddie receives the message, his tongue slowly lapping into Steve’s mouth. He tastes like chocolate.

As the kissing intensifies, Steve reaches up and slides his hands into Eddie’s hair, being careful not to tug it out of his bun. Eddie’s hand that was resting on his cheek moves down and grips his hip. They’re both panting and moaning as their tongues caress and chase each other. The hand on Steve’s hip tightens and instinctively, without breaking the kiss, he lifts himself up and settles on Eddie’s lap. Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and their kisses get deeper, firmer, hungrier. 

Steve is getting hard fast, and if he’s not mistaken, Eddie is too by the firmness he can feel under him. He sucks on Steve’s tongue and it sends fireworks right down to his dick. Like he can’t even control his own body, he rocks his hips down into Eddie and they both let out a groan as their cocks meet. Immediately Robin’s voice echoes in his mind, just don’t jump in dick first, and suddenly he snaps back into rationality and breaks the kiss.

Panting and wide-eyed, Eddie looks up at him with concern written all over his face. “You ok? Should we stop?”

Steve is trying to catch his breath and reign his dick in. He nods, “Yeah. Yeah I think we should slow down. That got really intense really fast.”

Eddie rubs his back reassuringly. “Of course honey. I’m sorry if I took that too far-“

“No, no! Don’t be sorry. That was amazing. You’re amazing. Jesus, I haven’t been kissed like that…maybe ever.” Steve runs his hand through his hair and sits back on Eddie’s lap, putting some space between their flagging dicks. “It was just getting a little too good, and I meant what I said. I wanna take this slow.”

“Anything you want. It’s yours.”

And the sincerity of those words makes Steve melt. He drapes his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and rests their foreheads together. “I want to keep kissing you. You feel incredible. I’m just afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

Eddie tilts his head up to kiss the tip of Steve’s nose. “We can keep kissing if you want. Keep it PG. You just gotta back that juicy ass up and leave some room for the Holy Spirit!”

Steve cracks up and swats at Eddie’s chest. ”What are you, a middle school priest?”

“I suppose you could call me Father Eddie, but I’d prefer Daddy,” he says with an eyebrow wiggle.

“Oh my god!” They both dissolve into giggles, that turn into giddy kisses, that turn into playful wrestling, and soon they find themselves lying down down on the couch - Eddie tucked into the back cushions and Steve snuggled up to his chest. 

Steve lets out a content sigh, relishing in their arms and legs entwined around each other like a couple of octopuses. “This is nice. It’s really good to have you back in town, Eds. Do you think…maybe we could see each other again soon?”

Eddie kisses the top of his head and breathes him in. “You’re gonna have a hard time trying to get rid of me, sweetheart. I’ll come see you every day if you let me. And since you asked the last two times, now it’s my turn! Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Hmmmm…I don’t know. Do we get to trauma dump on each other? That’s the third date milestone, right?” 

Steve’s head bounces on Eddie’s chest as he giggles. “Oh absolutely. We’ll bear our souls and tell the most appalling secrets.”

Steve slowly lifts his head and stares at Eddie. “Did you just quote Little Women at me?”

“I sure did.”

“Amazing. The Winona Ryder one is the best. It’s weird, she kinda looks like Joyce.”

“Hot.”

“Ew that’s basically my mom.”

“Well, then, your mom is hot.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah I think you kinda like me.”

Steve feels heat in his cheeks again. “Maybe I do. We should probably kiss about it.”

He tilts his head up and Eddie smiles into the kiss. Time escapes them as they slowly make out on the couch. It’s less intense than earlier, but just as eager as they explore each other with their lips and tongues and hands. 

They finally stop when Steve breaks the kiss to hold back a yawn.

“You tired honey?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I don’t want to stop but I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Why don’t I take off and you can get some sleep? I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Mmm…that sounds good. I had a really great time, Eds. Thanks for coming over.”

“Sweetheart, I should be thanking you. That dinner was amazing, I don’t remember the last time I had a home cooked meal that good. And those brownies? Holy shit.”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. “Let me box some up for you to take home.”

They untangle themselves from each other and head to the kitchen. Steve packs up some brownies and walks Eddie to the door. ”Thank you for the flowers Eddie. That was really sweet.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from Stevie. Just wait. I’m gonna spoil you rotten.” He leans in for one last lingering kiss and whispers to Steve’s lips, “Goodnight sweetheart.”

“Goodnight Eds.”

He closes the door after watching Eddie walk away and slumps against it. That was perfect. Every moment, every look, every touch. 

Perfect.

Chapter 5<<Masterlist>>Chapter 7

*********************************************

I like comments! Taglist is open! I love you!

@annachronisme @mrsjellymunson @kozuuji

[ilovebubblegum]

First Birthday (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah. 

Summary: Pov: You and Joel prepared to celebrate baby Sarah’s first birthday together.

Words count: 1.5k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 6 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm beyond happy that many of you liked it so I hope you enjoy the next parts. Stay tuned and love you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Thank God Joel still treated you the same way before he confessed his love to you that night. You acted like nothing happened and he did the same. 

“Thank you for walking me home, Joel.” Joel always walked you home even though your house was exactly next to his.

“Anytime, darlin’.” This was the second time he called you darling. Your heart jumped.

“I-uh-I forgot to tell you. Sarah’s birthday is coming. I was wondering if we could celebrate together.” He put his hand behind his neck.

“Oh really? It’s her first birthday! We should hold a party!” You jumped excitedly.

“A party? I don’t know (y/n). I mean-I don’t have anyone to invite beside my brother.” Joel put his hands in his pocket.

“I can invite my friends from the cafe. Let’s give Sarah the best first birthday ever. She deserves it.” You bumped Joel on the upper arm.

“Yeah, she deserves the best.” Joel nodded.

“So, what should we do?” He crossed his arms.

“I’ll think about it and we can talk about it again tomorrow.” 

“Okay. Thanks. Good night, darlin’.” Joel kissed your cheek.

“Good night, Joel.” You kissed him back.

You shrieked as you closed the door. Joel Miller just called you darling. After what you said to him and he still called you darling? His words made you sway. And the kiss on the cheek felt different. Joel kissed your cheek every night but today definitely felt different. It felt more loving if you had to describe it. Was it because he called you darling? Was it because he was still nice to you even though you broke his heart? Then you remembered you told him that you weren’t ready for a relationship. You were the one who asked him not to fall in love with you but why were you swayed now? You hit your head to get a grip of yourself. You spent your night thinking about how you could make Sarah’s birthday special. You took out your notebook and wrote your ideas about the cake design, colors, decorations and everything. Trying to neglect your thoughts about how perfect Joel was.

It was another day and you prepared dinner at Joel’s house just like usual. You and Joel had dinner together almost every night since you babysat Sarah. Either you cooked for the two of you, ordered deliveries, Joel brought takeouts, or ate out. But tonight you decided to cook. 

“You’re home early.” You turned to look at Joel who just got home from work.

“Today was peaceful.” He chuckled.

“Dinner will be ready in 10. So you can take a shower first, sir.” You bowed, acting like a maid.

“I’ll be back.” Joel chuckled as he shook his head at your joke.

*10 minutes later*

Joel went down the stairs looking fresh after a shower.

“Smells good.” Joel sniffed.

“You always said that.” You scoffed.

“I’m being honest.” Joel glared at you.

“Well, thank you.” You smiled.

You and Joel dug in and ate the meal you cooked.

“So, I’ve got some ideas for Sarah’s first birthday party.” You took out your notebook.

“Uh-huh. What do you got?��� 

“I was thinking of a pink themed kind of birthday party. What do you think?” You squinted your eyes.

“Hmm, how about purple? I’m seeing Sarah as a purple girl.” Joel voted purple.

“Yes sir. Purple it is.” You wrote purple on your notebook.

“About the cake, I have talked to my baker and he has this amazing design in mind. You’ll love it.” 

“I’ll leave it to you, miss.” 

Sarah’s Birthday D-1

You and Joel decorated the house with purple flowers and purple balloons. You used helium for the balloon so it could fly to the ceilings. 

"Never meant to cause you any sorrow~"

Joel sang as he held the balloon pumper as a microphone near his mouth. 

You turned your head right away as you heard a high-pitched voice singing. 

"Seriously?" You put your hands to your waist staring at him. 

"Never meant to cause you any pain" Joel closed his eyes and continued singing.

You inhaled some of the helium and jumped to the couch. 

"I only wanted to one time to see you laughing.."  

You sang and Joel stopped because he was impressed by you.

"I only wanted to see you in the purple rain" 

You started to sing like a real singer on the stage but you were just on Joel's couch. 

"Purple rain

Purple rain" 

Joel inhaled another helium and sang with you together. The two of you burst into laughter. You couldn't stop laughing, your stomach hurts.

"Okay, okay. Stop it. My stomach hurts from laughing." You pressed your stomach. 

"I didn't know you like Prince." You bumped Joel's arm.

"Purple rain is like my jam." Joel squinted his eyes.

"Wait, did you choose purple because of the song? Purple as in purple rain?" You furrowed your brows confused as you joined the dots. He shrugged.

"I..may have chosen purple because of purple rain." He admitted. 

"You're sooo predictable." You shook your head and poked his chest with your index finger.

D-day

The birthday cake was big and purple. It was a two tier cake with pearls and sparkly butterflies around it. You thanked your baker for making Sarah a beautiful birthday cake. 

Sarah wore a purple dress with a purple bow tie bandana headband around her head. You and Joel had bought them a few days ago at the mall. 

"Happy birthday, you cute little girl!" One of your employees from the cafe shook her little hand gently. 

"Whoaa, who is this pretty little girl here?" Another friend from your cafe came to her while baby Sarah was in Joel's arms. 

"Happy birthday, purple girl." Flo came and stroked her head. 

"Say thank you, babygirl." Joel bounced Sarah and she babbled. 

"You're welcome." Flo gave you a gift box for Sarah and you put it on the table piled with presents. 

Everyone was happy to celebrate Sarah's birthday. They were like a second family to her. She spent every day with them and you at the cafe. And they loved her too. 

“Hey, you old fucker. And hey there you, babygirl. Happy birthday, my sweet little niece.” An unfamiliar man approached the two of you and kissed baby Sarah’s head.

“Tommy!” Joel hugged his younger brother.

“(y/n), this is Tommy, my younger brother. Tommy this is (y/n). She’s uh-she’s my neighbor. She’s the one who came up with all of these.” Joel introduced you to Tommy and pointed around the house.

“Hi, Tommy. I’m (y/n). Nice to meet you. Joel helped a lot too.” You shook Tommy’s hand.

“So you guys-uh-together?” Tommy asked.

“We’re neighbors.” You answered and Joel nodded.

“Okay. If you want to say it that way. I’m sure you guys are more than that anyways.” Tommy raised both of his opened palms in the air. 

“Okay, now I’m gonna mingle and see if I can talk to that pretty girl.” Tommy walked away and talked to a girl, who was apparently to be Flo. 

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” You chuckled.

“Well, you know about it now.” Joel kissed Sarah’s cheek.

“He seems..” You pouted as you were looking for the right word.

“Friendly. Very much friendly.” You smirked.

“Yep, he is.” 

“Why don’t we gather everyone and sing happy birthday?” You rested your hand at Joel’s shoulder then to Sarah’s head.

"Everyone! Joel here has something to say." You gathered everyone's attention.

"What? I thought you were the one who-" Joel whispered to you and bumped your arm.

"Shh.. come on do the speech." You whispered back to him. 

"I didn't prepare anythin'." He panicked.

"You can do it. Come on." You patted his back. 

"Hi-uh-I'm Joel. I'm sure you all know Sarah. She's turning one today. Thank you for takin' care of her every day at the cafe. I really appreciate it. You are all a second family to her. Why don't we-uh-sing happy birthday to my little girl?" Joel was sweating. You could see it dripping to the back of his neck but you just chuckled. You found him cute this way.

*Everyone started to sing*

Joel sang half way and he stopped singing so you turned to him. His eyes were locked to a woman who just came into the house. She was his ex-wife and her current boyfriend. 

"Joel.." You stroked his upper arm. 

"Hold Sarah for me?" He passed Sarah to your arms. 

"Okay." You took her from his arms and held her, bouncing her a bit. 

Joel sighed as he walked towards his ex-wife. He didn't let her see Sarah. He dragged her outside the house avoiding everyone to see the drama that would happen. 

"Everything's gonna be okay, baby. Your dad got this. Let's just be happy and celebrate your birthday. Today's your special day." You talked to baby Sarah and kissed her forehead.

To be continued…

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @padgraysonssram8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr @avengersfan25 @xixxala @dianaffddz @onzayhe @violetwitchmcu @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @kelh27

[bisexualbard-writes]

@kimchaybrainrot!! You had a birthday!! sorry it’s a day late BUT I have some soft kimchay headcanons JUST FOR YOU! 

When Chay starts staying at Kim’s place, when he wakes up in the morning he says “I’m hungry what’s for breakfast” and this sends Kim spiraling down through guilt memories. He decides then that he’s never going to ever ask Chay to make them breakfast. 

The problem is he wants to have a nice quiet morning at home cuddling with Chay, but he doesn't keep a lot of food on hand. He usually just grabs a protein bar on his way out the door and orders in for his other meals. So for that first day he orders them coffee and pastries from the cafe down the street, but any breakfast food more substantial than pastries always arrives cold so this isn’t a great long term solution. 

BUT fear not, Kim is a PROBLEM SOLVER. He decides he’s going to learn how to cook breakfast for Chay so that they can spend the mornings cuddling in their pajamas AS IT OUGHT TO BE. 

The problem is, he’s never so much as cracked an egg before. When Chay isn’t around (because gosh, Kim isn’t going to let Chay see him fucking up miserably when they JUST got back together) Kim gets a carton of eggs practices cracking them open and frying them. He’s not a disaster, he has to know how to have a delicate touch for both music and murder, but he still gets some eggshell in the pan and the yolk runs everywhere so he ends up with scrambled eggs. On his second attempt the eggs are burnt on the bottom and raw on the top. On this third attempt he gets it fully cooked, but then the egg is FULLY COOKED and not at all runny in the middle the way chay likes. 

That’s when he realizes okay, huh, this cooking thing might be a bit more of a skill than he anticipated. 

But he is COMMITTED to not CORRUPTING their newly flourishing relationship with BREAKFAST SINS. 

So he cracks his knuckles and loads youtube and gets to work. As it turns out, he has a lot to learn. He’s pretty good at knife skills already, but it turns out there’s a whole different kind of technique to chopping up an onion than there is to twirling a switchblade. And he learned enough chemistry to know what common bathroom cleaners he can weaponize and turn into harmful gaseous clouds, but the chemistry of just making some bread is a whole different level of complex. 

He still orders in breakfast for him and Chay while he’s learning and just deals with slightly cold delivery for now, because he’s not going to serve anything but the BEST for his boy. 

On the morning he finally feels ready, he slips out of bed early and gets cracking. When Chay finally wanders out he’s a little grumpy he didn’t wake up with his cuddle buddy, but then he’s quickly stunned by the feast in front of him. There are pans of sausages and bacon, and crepes loaded with freshly made whipped cream and fruit, and multiple types of freshly squeezes fruit juice, and then Kim is pulling a quiche out of the oven. 

Chay says something like “good morning P’Kim and also what in the world is happening?” and Kim responds “good morning my love I made you breakfast?” 

Chay gapes, and Kim realizes he might have gone a little overboard, but then Chay is kissing him and hoisting him onto the counter because Chay is overwhelmed with so much love, but Kim has to stop him because “i love you chay but I am NOT eating another cold and and soggy breakfast.” 

All the food is delicious and delightful - Chay would have been perfectly happy with a stack of pancakes to be honest, but the big spread of food is super awesome and Chay knows without Kim having to say it that this is another way of helping them move on from their turbulent start, so he extra appreciates all the effort. 

Kim watches Chay eat carefully and glows a little more with each compliment and when they’re done eating Chay pulls him back into the bedroom for more kisses and cuddles and a nap to sleep off all the food. 

( And then later Chay will show kim exactly how appreciative he is by bending him over the kitchen counter and fucking him slowly and thoroughly until kim is begging. ) 

From then on Kim makes them breakfast while Chay sits on the kitchen island still looking rumpled in his pajamas and demanding kisses whenever Kim passes him to use the sink. Kim loves it and despairs because sometimes they get a little too distracted and Kim burns things, but it always makes Chay happy, so its a sacrifice he’s willing to make.

[writingwhimsey]

Married to the Enemy- Shingen Ch. 10

Chapter 10

I spent the next couple of weeks happily working on the commission during the day, putting in my best effort to make the clothes my best work. I really wanted to impress the client and the people of Echigo who would be seeing these clothes at the festival. I finished the order the day before the festival.

“These are of superb quality.” Kanako commended me, as she looked over the finished pieces. “I am sure the customers will greatly appreciate them.”

“I hope so.” I said. “Will they be coming by or do I need to go deliver them?”

“We have a runner who delivers the goods and collects the fees.” Kanako answered. She was then summoning a young boy, he couldn’t have been more than ten.

He bowed to me. “Don’t worry my lady, I will get these delivered.” He was then leaving.

“He’s so young.” I remarked once he had finished.

“Due to the nature of the times, there are many orphaned children.” Kanako said. “Lord Kenshin and Lord Shingen employ many of them for such tasks. It is a way for them to earn some money to keep food in their bellies and a place to stay.”

It broke my heart that children had to have such rough lives. In my time there were more options and children weren’t in danger of being orphaned so easily. Yes some children still lost their parents, but not as often or easily as here. It did warm my heart though, to know that Shingen and Kenshin both did what they could to help these children. “It’s sad that they’ve lost their parents, but I am glad that Shingen and Kenshin are helping them.”

Kanako smiled. “Yes. They are truly kind lords and we are lucky to live under their rule.”

“Is there any other work that needs to be done?” I asked.

Kanako smiled. “Yes, we have plenty of work to go around.”

I spent the rest of the day getting started on another commission. During that time the young boy returned and gave me the news that the nobleman had enjoyed my work and also gave me my portion of the fee. He was then leaving to take more deliveries into town. The seamstresses and I all worked till late in the afternoon before they were leaving to head to their homes. I headed to my room, an extra spring in my step as I went.

I was definitely excited to have earned my first “paycheck” here. Though I knew Shingen was likely to buy me anything I needed, just as I was offered to have anything bought for me by Nobunaga and the others when I was in Azuchi, I still preferred earning my own money. It was a source of pride for me to be able to earn money on my own. Though that wasn’t the only reason I was so happy.

Shingen had made it a habit of coming by my room every night after we had both finished up our days. We would share a meal or sweets together and view the moon. We chatted about things…Shingen flirted with me. Sometimes we would be up late, other times our nights would end a bit early…either way I always looked forward to them and enjoyed my time with Shingen.

The sun was just starting to set when Shingen knocked on my door. “Are you ready for our evening, Ava?” Shingen asked as he poked his head into my room.

I smiled at him. “Yes, come in.”

He smiled as me as he slid the door the rest of the way open. He had a package tucked under his large arm. “You are looking lovely even more radiant tonight.” He said as he came to sit beside me on the tatami mat floor. “You have a glow about you.”

I felt myself flushing as usual from his compliments. “Oh, I guess I’m just excited about having finished my first commission here.” I replied. “Even though I didn’t get to meet my customer… but it does feel nice to have my own money for the festival tomorrow.”

“I see.” Shingen replied. “You know when we attend I will buy you anything you wish.”

“I had a feeling you would say that.” I told him. “But I don’t want to rely on your kindness all the time.”

“You like to be independent.” Shingen stated, observing me.

I nodded. “Yes…when I was young…well my father left. My mother struggled to become independent, but eventually she figured things out and provided for herself and me…in the process she taught me that it was important to have a skill to fall back on and that just because a woman gets married that she didn’t have to give up her independence.”

“It sounds like your mother is a strong woman.” Shingen replied. “Who raised another strong woman.”

I nodded. “Yes, she was.” I replied. I could feel my eyes getting misty so I mentally shook myself. “Anyway, what is that you have there? Did you bring some new sweets?”

Shingen could sense this was a difficult topic for me so he didn’t press further. He smiled as he held out the package. “Actually, a present for you.” He said, holding the package out for me.

“I couldn’t possibly…Shingen you’ve already gifted me so much.”

“Please, accept it?” Shingen asked. “I actually would love to see you wear it to the festival tomorrow.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but Shingen was giving me puppy eyes…and there was no way I could say no. I accepted the package and opened it to find a very familiar yukata. “YOU were my mystery customer?”

Shingen gave me a sheepish smile. “Yes…are you upset with me over it?”

I shook my head. “No…I’m flattered in fact.” I replied, my cheeks reddening. “So…you’ll be wearing…”

“The matching one, yes.” Shingen replied with a smile. 

I flushed further thinking about matching Shingen for the festival. The thought he had put into this…it was so sweet. On impulse, I leaned towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Shingen.”

If I wasn’t mistaken, I thought I might have seen a flush on Shingen’s cheeks as well. “If it earns me kisses, I’ll happily continue to commission your work.”

I giggled and blushed. “You don’t have to do that…”

“Hmm, then what else can I do to earn more of your sweet kisses?” Shingen asked, smiling warmly at me, as he lifted a hand to caress my cheek.

I felt my face heating up beneath his palm. “W-well…I mean you…don’t really have to do anything…I just…I just wanted to…”

It was then that I felt his soft warm lips on my forehead. “You’re far too adorable, Ava.” He murmured.

My heart was a jackhammer in my chest. “Th-the sun is still…setting…why don’t we go watch it together?” I suggested, trying to get the focus off of me.

“Whatever you wish, my goddess.” Shingen replied, standing up and offering his hand to me.

I placed my hand in his and allowed him to help me to my feet. Then we walked out to the veranda and sat down to take in the sunset. My heart was able to calm down by getting to focus on the beautiful colors of the sunset sky.

“I can see why sunset is your favorite color.” Shingen said, calling back to our conversation on our first date.

“I’m surprised you remember that. It feels like that conversation was so long ago now.” I replied.

“I remember every word you tell me, Ava. Especially when it’s something about yourself.” Shingen replied.

I turned to look at him and he was looking right back at me, his gray eyes soft and full of honesty. It seemed he really did want to make this marriage work and make me happy. It made me wonder if he was starting to feel the same way about me as I was about him. “I…I think the same about when you tell me things.” I replied.

Shingen smiled. “I am glad to hear that you find me just as intriguing as I find you.”

We soon fell into a companionable silence as we both turned back to the setting sun. Night was soon falling and we were completely in the dark as the moon shown above and all of the twinkling little stars. The sky was so gorgeous here with no light pollution to block its natural beauty. It was peaceful, sharing the night together with Shingen. I hoped we would be able to enjoy more nights like this together.

The next night…

During the day Shingen had some work he had to finish up before the festival. So I spent the day with Saki getting ready. “So, are you excited?” Saki asked me as she helped me put up my hair.

“Yes.” I answered. “It will be fun to spend the festival with Shingen…and I still can’t believe he was the one to order the yukata from me…and making a matching set for the both of us…”

Saki giggled. “Do you like the fabrics?” She asked.

“Yes, they’re stunning.” I answered.

“He asked me to pick them out.” Saki said as she was pulling my hair up into a braided bun.

“Really? And you didn’t tell me?!”

“I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” Saki replied. “Besides, I thought it was very sweet and I was happy to help.”

“Well, thank you.” I replied.

Saki was finished with my hair and then moving to sit in front of me and do my makeup. “So, how are things progressing with you two anyways?” She asked. “You think you’ll be inviting Lord Shingen to your bed after the festival tonight?” She asked with a giggle and suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

I couldn’t help but to giggle. “I…we haven’t even kissed on the lips yet!”

Saki clucked her tongue at me. “Well then you’ll just have to remedy that. You kiss him at the festival and then invite him back here.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “I…I don’t know about that…”

“Do you not want to kiss him?” Saki asked. “Or go to bed with him?”

“It’s not that.” I replied. “I mean…we’re still getting to know each other…and stuff.”

Saki gave me a look. “What stuff? Come on, we’re friends. Talk to me.”

I sighed. “I just…there’s just no need to rush things.” I replied with a shrug. “And… it’s nice… to be romanced like this.”

Saki smiled. “Well, I can see how that would feel nice…just saying I get the feeling other things would feel nice with Lord Shingen.”

I giggled. “I have no doubts.” I replied. “But I mean…it just feels nice to be romanced, wooed, even.”

“I understand.” Saki said. “And you SHOULD enjoy it. You deserve it.”

“Speaking of romance…you have certainly been spending a lot of time with Yukimura.” I told her, my tone taking on a teasing lilt as I did my best to get the subject off of me.

Saki shook her head. “We just happen to work closely together considering he serves Lord Shingen and I serve you.” She replied. “He is cute…a bit of a moron at times though. He’s fun to argue with…of course ninja boy is cute too.”

“Oh? You like Sasuke?” I asked.

“He’s cute, but he says a lot of strange things I don’t understand, even more than you do.” She replied. “But I don’t see anything happening there other than friendship.”

“Why not?” I asked. “Sasuke is a perfectly good guy.”

“Oh, he is, I agree.” Saki replied as she put some rouge on my lips and at the corners of my eyes. “But I just don’t feel it.” She answered with a shrug. “No spark.”

“That makes sense.” I replied. “What about with Yukimura?”

Saki frowned at me. “No.”

I giggled. “I think you’re lying there.”

“I said he’s fun to argue with.” Saki replied. “There is no way I could be with someone like him. He has ZERO tact. Boy is blunt as an anvil.”

“I’ll give you that.” I replied laughing. “But you know, I think you’re protesting a bit much…”

Saki gave me a look. “Just remember I AM currently applying your makeup. My hand could slip VERY easily.”

I giggled. “Alright, alright.”

Saki finished applying my makeup and helped me into the yukata. By the time she had finished, there was a knock on my door. “Ava, are you ready?”

“Yes.” I answered as I made my way over to the door and slid it open to reveal Shingen standing on the other side. Instantly I regretted not preparing myself for how handsome Shingen was going to look in the clothing I made. Of course, a lot of that had to do with how he wore it… with the top half so open, revealing his perfectly sculpted chest.

“You look even more beautiful in that yukata than I imagined.” Shingen said, smiling at me as he reached for my hand, bringing it to his lips.

I felt my cheeks flushing instantly…he seemed to always reduce me to a blushing mess. “Thank you.” I managed to get out. “You…you look amazing as well.”

“How about I just go ahead to the festival and leave the two of you alone?” Saki suggested. She was then winking at me as she walked by and whispered to me, “I am sure no one will miss you if you miss the festival.”

“You did a splendid job on this.” Shingen told me, gesturing to the jinbei I had madam which matched my yukata. “It is comfortable and fashionable.”

“I am glad you like it.” I replied, smiling from his genuine praise.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked.

I nodded. “Yes.”

Shingen took my hand in his and led me out of my room. “I am looking forward to this festival with you tonight.” He told me as we walked from the castle and headed towards the town.

I smiled. “I am looking forward to it, too.” I replied. “Of course, I think you’re really looking forward to all of the festival sweets.” I teased.

Shingen chuckled. “And hopefully Saki is keeping Yukimura busy enough that he won’t come near me to lecture me.”

I giggled. “Oh, I am sure she will.” I had a feeling we were in for a fun night. I couldn’t help but to feel excitement bubbling up in my chest in anticipation for this night.

[joshuameals]

Joshua's Meals: Nutrient-rich and oh-so-delicious.

[kikizoshi]

Godos Fluff Headcanons I Absolutely Adore

(...and some general lifestyle headcanons thrown in)

-Nikolai likes to cover Fyodor with his cloaks/capes sometimes when they hug (like in those long, rocking hugs). It gives him a feeling of comfort, like Fyodor's safe and nothing can hurt him. Fyodor likes it too; to him it feels like an extra layer of endearment and makes him feel safe, secure and loved (plus it's warm).

-Nikolai is one of the few people Fyodor trusts entirely with his ushanka. This isn't a small thing--he usually doesn't even like to let people touch it, but he even trusts Nikolai to spot clean it for him.

-Nikolai absolutely loves to take care of Fyodor, which works well, because Fyodor likes being taken care of. This extends to cooking (where Nikolai will often ask Fyodor to pick one new dish to try to go with whatever staple meal Nikolai's making that week), making him tea most days and keeping the berry preserves stocked up, and nursing Fyodor when he's sick.

Nikolai doesn't enjoy trying to get Fyodor to remember to eat, or sleep, or shower, sometimes, but he takes Fyodor's health even more seriously than his own most of the time, and so is usually trying out some new method to achieve at least one of these things.

-Nikolai worked as a stage actor before he took up terrorism, and practiced a lot at home. Fyodor would often watch his practicing, occasionally give feedback, and they might talk a bit about the story afterwards. This was a common before-dinner activity for them, which was mostly for fun, but also helped Fyodor get out of his work headspace and into his home headspace, and of course Fyodor's psychology-based feedback often helped Nikolai with his nuances in his delivery.

-Dinner is a very important together time for them. Both make a point of having dinner together as often as possible, so that they're sure to have time together to talk. Though late-night conversations are also common with them, there's always a chance of Fyodor being sucked back into work or Nikolai needing extra time to work something out/rehearsals or shows taking place at night, so they make dinner the designated time together. Also, since their dinner is usually a dish Nikolai made, Nikolai likes to share the food with Fyodor, and Fyodor likes to appreciate the shared food with Nikolai.

-Depending on how late Nikolai's shows ran while he was in a play and what came after, they may have dinner together as late as 1 or 2 in the morning, but still, they always ate together (Fyodor was almost never ready to go to sleep by then anyway, which I'm sure helped, but the idea that he shared his usually alone-time with Nikolai is sweet to me).

-Regarding the dishes: generally the system is that Nikolai cooks and Fyodor cleans. The everyday dishes are usually washed by Fyodor, since he goes to sleep much later than Nikolai and often has several cups of tea and snacks long after Nikolai's gone to bed. Nikolai puts away the clean dishes in the morning, long before Fyodor wakes up.

-Regarding their sleep schedules: Nikolai (according to himself) tends to find his moods and general thought process annoyingly mercurial if he ends up more than an hour off his sleep cycle, and so is fairly regular with going to sleep around 23-24 and getting up around 6-7 (giving up his precious productive night hours was hard on him--the time past 1-ish when your brain lets you be creative--but he soon learned to replace them with alcohol). This of course can be completely thrown out of balance when he has rehearsals/shows, but the rest of the year, he sticks to it religiously.

Fyodor has no such trouble with moods and, like Nikolai, finds his best hours to be in the early morning. So, he generally goes to bed around 3-5 and wakes up at 11. Unlike Nikolai--whose body, like a clock, always keeps him asleep for exactly eight hours--Fyodor relies on alarms and always gets up at 11, unless he has somewhere to be earlier. He doesn't generally go to bed earlier though, so he just tends to be (more) tired on those days.

-Fyodor's usually tired (either from his sleep schedule, physical ailments, or both), and his energy levels tend to range from moderate to low. At first this irritated Nikolai for a bit, I think, but he eventually came to learn what Fyodor's low-energy emotes meant (which can look kind of funny when Nikolai reacts to an emotion that seemingly isn't being expressed).

-Nikolai loves swing dancing, but Fyodor doesn't usually have the stamina for it. So instead, when the dancing itch arrives, they waltz or do some slower dance with a bit of verve. Dancing's difficult in the narrow living room, but they manage (and, when Nikolai's brother and sister-in-law come over, he swing dances with them, which Fyodor enjoys watching).

-There's a park a few roads down from where they live, and they often in the late spring and early summer enjoy playing violin and cello together out in the greenery. Nikolai especially loves when the birds twitter while they're playing.

-Speaking of birds, Nikolai also loves going out with Fyodor and pigeon-spotting. Sometimes he'll take a bag of breadcrumbs to sprinkle for the birds they come by. He does this alone too, but enjoys sharing this activity with Fyodor.

-Nikolai also, when he has more free time, enjoys bird-watching. He keeps a journal of the different birds he sees, how many, etc. When he gets up at about 6, they're really active, and sometimes he'll luxuriate in an hour of peaceful bird-watching and documentation from the kitchen window. (Unfortunately, the window view is onto the street, so he doesn't see as many as he would in a park or garden, but he still sees enough to be somewhat satisfied.)

Fyodor isn't very interested in birds in and of themselves, but he loves listening to Nikolai's enthusiasm, love for and musings about the little creatures, and so will often ask about Nikolai's recent sightings when he knows Nikolai's been bird-watching.

-Fyodor loves to use terms of endearment. 'My Dove' and 'Dear' are his favourites outside of 'Kolya' (and its variants). Nikolai likes to take inspiration from the moment to make pet names, so may say something like 'My Little Red-Nose' (when Fyodor's sick) or 'Drowned Rat' (when Fyodor's wet and upset about it) (I imagine most of them would be animal or food related, but my imagination has a rough time keeping up with Nikolai's), as well as 'Fedya' (and its variants). He might also call Fyodor 'Fedka' if he's feeling derisive enough, though I can't imagine Fyodor would ever call Nikolai 'Kolka'.

-One thing Nikolai loves about Fyodor is that, when Nikolai gets into one of his black moods, where he can't seem to enjoy or appreciate anything, and, in general, just wants to sink into nothingness, Fyodor understands and doesn't judge him, nor expect more. Fyodor will usually take up the cooking (which... his food is usually bland and tasteless, but neither care all that much in those times), keeps the lights dimmer/curtains drawn, and most of all lets Nikolai come to him.

He also doesn't complain about lack of hugs, though they're very important to him. Nikolai finds hugs disturbing in a black mood, because he can't feel anything from them, and so they just distress him. It is harder on Fyodor than I think he usually admits to himself though, not being able to hug or pet or really comfort at all his friend who's in so much pain.

-Fyodor doesn't like being around drunk people, but Nikolai often relies on alcohol to get him into the right headspace to work. To compromise, Nikolai tries not to get more than tipsy around Fyodor, generally going for lightly buzzed, and usually does it while Fyodor's working. (Though this does go out the window sometimes if Nikolai wants badly enough to numb his emotions.)

-Fyodor gets miserably sick relatively frequently (~3-4 times a year), often with the changing of the seasons, which usually knocks him out for a solid two weeks. Nikolai hovers and cares for him with all the terrified devotion of a mother whose baby suffers from scarlet fever. The sheer nervous energy emitted from Nikolai tends to overwhelm and tire Fyodor out, but he still finds Nikolai being there to take care of and be with him to be more comforting than if he was alone (him having to comfort Nikolai tires him out, but also helps him feel more at peace). (Occasionally, maybe a little less than once a year, Fyodor will have a seizure bad enough to keep him in bed for a few days, and the dynamic's about the same as when he's sick.)

-A few times, Nikolai kept vigil over Fyodor's sick body (the first time being after a particularly bad seizure left Fyodor bedridden for five days, a few months into their friendship). It… Well, let's just say it never ended well for Nikolai. Fyodor eventually managed to calm Nikolai down enough about his frailty to get him to compromise on sleeping close together (though Fyodor first tried sending Nikolai away, Nikolai worked himself into an even bigger panic when he couldn't see how Fyodor was doing).

-Nikolai is absolutely terrified of doctors. He's also a borderline hypochondriac. Thankfully, Nikolai's aggressively healthy (except for some minor stomach issues and some major mental issues), so this isn't often a problem. However, the few times it was, and Fyodor genuinely needed Nikolai to go to a doctor, it always took a very long and drawn-out discussion to convince Nikolai that the doctors weren't going to torture him to death (Fyodor never learned what exactly Nikolai was afraid of, but it seemed something along the lines of what you'd expect from a BCE Chinese torture chamber, or Yosano's clinic).

-Needless to say, Fyodor's spent many a night listening to Nikolai's fears and explaining why they're likely not one of The Horrors. He might have gotten tired of it, except Nikolai's fears were usually so creative and obscure that Fyodor actually often found them fascinating.

[moodmother]

They's a Crowd

In between sips of macchiato, Zenith types away furiously. Oh this, this is a good one. The latest post for their blog, They's a Crowd. An invective against the oppressive tyranny of romantic love and family bonds.

"Do you really believe that?"

Zenith never saw the stranger sit down, but there he is on the other side of the table. Meticulous strawberry beard, sharp twinkling eyes. A sudden faint whiff of heather and iron in the air.

"What?"

"All that. That your friends should prioritize you over their lovers and children."

There is no way for the stranger to have seen what Zenith is writing but they are caught up in the righteous heat of their conviction. "It's about economies of care! How am I supposed to survive." In their fervor, Zenith almost spills coffee onto the keys of their MacBook.

"Indeed."

"Last week, I was feeling depressed so I texted my supposed 'best friend' to see if we could hang out. But he had promised his wife that he would take her out to the movies. Well, fair enough. So I asked if I could come along--and he said 'No!' Well, what about my social needs? Just because she's his 'wife,' just because he's bound by the patriarchal institution of marriage, he can treat me like I mean nothing? And just last night, I didn't have the spoons to make myself dinner. I put out a message in the group chat, but of course you know what day it was."

"Mother's Day."

"Right! So nobody would come by and cook me a simple meal, because they were all having dinner with their mothers instead. I had to go hungry, because our heteropatriarchal culture arbitrarily values parent-child relationships over non-biological kinship."

"I see. And you couldn't have just gotten UberEats or something?"

Zenith scoffs. "I'm supposed to pay more to live because I'm single and don't have anyone to care for me? And you know those delivery apps are so exploitive. It's better to order from the restaurant directly. But then I would have to call for delivery, and I have social anxiety."

"Oh, well, of course. So what you're saying is, it's important to the cause of queer liberation that the lives of everyone in your social circle revolve around you."

Zenith's brow furrows. "Well, I--"

"Would you say that you desire that? For your friends to prioritize you above all else? To care for you, feed you, cater to your every need? Do you…wish it?"

"Well, yes! My life is just as--"

But with a Cheshire cat smile and a twinkle of his pale gray eyes, the stranger has vanished.

+++

That evening, Zenith receives a text from their best friend: come over for dinner tonight?

When Zenith obliges, both their friend and his wife are all smiles. "Oh, don't get up Zenith. Let me get that for you. Have some more. You know we really love you, Z. We haven't shown it enough. You mean the world to us, we really need to prioritize you more. Have some more. Let me get you some more."

Zenith goes home grinning, stuffed to the brim with food and love.

+++

The next day, all of Zenith's friends turn up at their door.

"We've all been talking, Z. We wanted to tell you in person: You're the most important thing in our lives. It's time we acted like it."

From then on, Zenith is hardly ever alone--except when they ask for a little time to themself, of course. Someone is always ready to lend an ear, or join them on the couch or on a walk or even in bed when they require some company. Their every need is promptly and lovingly met. Their bed is made, their clothes and linens washed and folded. Their apartment is swept and scrubbed. Appointments are scheduled for them, and they are ferried dutifully to the doctor, the dentist, the store, the cafe, to where-ever they wish. The dishes are done--done often, as there is always a home-cooked spread at mealtime, and always a snack or morsel whenever Zenith feels the slightest bit peckish.

Zenith is never hungry for more than a moment--and this has a dramatic affect on their waistline.

Outgrowing my clothes! they post to their blog. Hot fatty summer!

+++

When Mother's Day comes again the following year, all of Zenith's friends' mothers turn up, smiling and tutting. Each one prepares a dish, her specialty, and insists that a now very fat Zenith accept second and third helpings.

When clothes that fit become very hard to find, Zenith's friends are happy to make some.

When it becomes too difficult to climb the stairs up to their apartment, everyone pitches in to rent a new one. A ground floor unit with nice, wide doorways.

When initimate personal care becomes impossible for Zenith to tend to on their own, there is a rotating roster of volunteers ready to bathe and dress them.

As Zenith steadily expands, caring for them becomes more logistically complex, a full time affair. Spouses, lovers, and relatives are enlisted to join in the work. Always happily, always with a smile. "We love you, Z. Anything for you."

Perhaps things are getting a bit out of hand… Zenith thinks, fleetingly. It is a bit inconvenient, as the wider world is not made for people who are as large as Zenith has become. But then a twinge of hunger distracts them, and they reach for whatever treat--a cookie, a brownie--is always there at hand, piled tidily on a platter, warm from the oven.

+++

In the midst of Thursday night board games, a timer dings.

"Whose turn is it to check Zenith?"

The designated attendant happily jumps up and bounds into the bedroom. "Need anything Z? Some more water?" "Unnh," a thick voice groans in reply.

Propped up on the bed, covering the entire surface from edge to edge, is a huge heap of flesh. Pampered and stuffed day in and day out, Zenith has grown too fat to move under their own power. Their world is confined to the four walls of the bedroom now.

"Thirsty?"

A cup of fresh water is held to their lips so that they can drink. Their friend has to lean close against their side to reach their face where it rests upturned atop the mound of their body. Deep within their immense belly, their stomach growls.

"Ah, hungry!"

Zenith's mind rebels. Their round, useless hands twitch in impotent protest. But their body responds by opening their mouth to welcome the morsels that are gently pushed into it. Because it's true: they are hungry. So very hungry. Their stomach has been stretched to cavernous capacity. Their body has grown accustomed to a constant stream of food, and it has been over an hour since they last ate.

Tears pool atop their great flabby cheeks as they are fed, eating and eating until temporarily sated again. This is their existence now. Washed and petted and lovingly tended to. Fed. Fed and fed and fed, helpless to do anything now except eat and grow.

Once they are finally satiated, for the time being, their friend cleans their teeth and wipes their face. The bedframe creaks ominously.

+++

"Hey, I think Z is lonely in there."

"Hm. Makes sense. I wish they could join us out here, or that we could all fit together around a table."

"They deserve to literally be at the center of a space, since they're the center of our lives. You know? Right in the heart of everything."

"It's definitely something to think about."

From the bedroom comes a CRACK and a thud and a pitiful, muffled yelp. Everyone leaps up and rushes in to soothe and settle their beloved. The bedframe has collapsed beneath the burden of Z's immense and ever-climbing weight.

+++

They've dubbed themselves the Z Crew, and so the new place is called the Z House. A nice big house, with the first floor built on an open plan.

They moved Z into their new, permanent home just in the nick of time. Had they waited much longer, Z would have grown too large to move. As it was, transporting them was an expensive and delicate affair. Hydraulic equipment was needed to lift Z off of the flattened mattress in the old apartment. Walls were removed, a crane and flatbed rented.

But in the end, it all went smoothly. Now, here in the airy, light-filled space, rests their beloved Z. The living heart of the home.

The Z Crew is always happy to chatter and coo at Z while they go about the unceasing work of feeding, washing, and tending their beloved, but Z themself cannot speak anymore. They have swelled into a monstrous blob. By now their weight is unguessable. Their hands and feet and limbs have long since disappeared into their general mass. There is no neck, no discernable head--only eyes, nose, and mouth sunk deep into a mire of flesh, upturned toward the ceiling. Lips always parted, ready to receive the next morsel of food.

The Z Crew has to climb up on top of Z to feed them now. The slopes of Z's body have become a cherished communal space, where friends recline and talk, lovers cuddle, and games and meals are enjoyed. They are all blissfully content, now that Z has crowded out every other care and commitment and become the center of their lives forever.

As for Z, they have forgotten what it was like to be anyone or anything else other than their friends' burgeoning beloved. They know nothing but fleeting hunger and sweet satiety; the shifting warmth of their friends' bodies against their own bulk; and the inescapable sensation of their own unfathomable weight.

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 8 Ep. 69: Harvestfest Party Time

The reception dinner after Paul and Nikita’s wedding was served outside under the stars. The newlyweds had a small table all to themselves and they couldn’t stop smiling as they made small talk about the day and their upcoming honeymoon vacation trip.

Nikita got a little too excited about being a rebel agent while cutting the cake. Her fancy “sword” trick became a painful lesson on being careful with knives, but no lasting harm was done. The couple proceeded to pose playfully for their photographer as they shared the first piece.

---------------------------------------------

After the meal, the younger folks planned to party all night upstairs in the treehouse and most of the elders said their goodbyes and headed home.

Steven playfully reminded his own boys that he wasn’t getting any younger – they’d better get a move on, or he wouldn’t be there to put his top-notch officiant skills to use for their weddings!

Neither of them felt ready to get married, but promised their dad he’d be the first to know if those happy circumstances came to pass.

---------------------------------------------

One young couple planned to party the night away but were forced to leave early. Gonzalo’s wife Dina thought she had plenty of time left until delivery, but it seemed her babies had other plans. The new parents-to-be panicked, feeling completely unprepared so far from home or the hospital.

The parties’ veteran public servants, quite used to dealing with such emergencies, stepped in to save the day. Peachy took his old friend in hand, lightening the mood with some of his best baby jokes, while Jack escorted the mother-to-be to the exit and wondered if someday he’d be attending the birth of his own child. Hopefully, he mused, it would be in slightly better circumstances than the couple before them found themselves in now!

---------------------------------------------

Heading upstairs after seeing their friends safely away Peachy made a beeline for the microphone.

He’d prepared a special wedding skit for his two housemates, liberally sprinkled with references to the show they had decided to base their happy day around. Paul found himself practically in tears from laughter as Peachy regaled the crowd with his silly take on the couple’s favorite fictional universe.

When his nephew was finished warming up the room it was Spencer’s turn. The party animal had sent Hope off to bed but chosen to remain and enjoy the fun with the young’uns. Not to be outdone by his twin’s speech at the alter, Paul’s dad gave a beautiful toast, citing how glad he was that the pair before him had found each other and wishing them as much love and happiness as he’d found with his own beautiful bride.

---------------------------------------------

A few rounds of Sabbacc and some dance floor fun rounded out the evening.

It had been a wonderful day of celebrating the love shared by two Sims near and dear to the hearts of all in attendance, and everyone hoped for many more joyous days ahead for the happy couple in the future.

---------------------------------------------

Want To See More? View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[maasbesttiffinservice]

What is Tiffin?

What is Tiffin? A tiffin is a lunch box that holds a variety of foods. Tiffins are typically made of stainless steel, which helps keep the food hot or cold. It also contains a handle for easy carrying.

Tiffins are not made to be used on the stove or in a hot oven, as the heat can warp them. Our tiffins are made of food-grade, non-leaching stainless steel and are BPA- and phthalate-free. Many peoples are searching for Indian tiffin near me on Google.

In South India, tiffin means a light snack between breakfast and dinner or a tea-time meal at about 3 pm consisting of typical tea-time snacks like cutlets, idlis or vadas.

Outside of South India, the word tiffin mostly refers to any packed meal or snack and is sometimes a name for the food carrier itself: tiered stainless-steel containers with lids that can be locked together and clamped down on the sides or top.

The containers were originally made of brass but are now often aluminium or stainless steel and can be found in any size from tiny to gargantuan. In the UK, Many peoples searching tiffin service near me on Google.

On any weekday in Bombay (now Mumbai), tiffins, or dabbas, can be seen stacked up on handcarts or bicycles being pushed along the busy streets by dhoti-clad men called tiffin wallahs, or dabbawalas.

These workers operate a complex system to ensure that thousands of tiffins are delivered daily to their intended recipients, often office workers. You can get food delivery Slough, UK.

Tiffin service is the perfect option if you want to enjoy home-cooked meals without having to cook. Quickly offers a huge selection of Indian tiffins in Manhattan, delivered right to your doorstep.

What is Punjabi food?

Are you looking for Punjabi food near me in the UK? Even non-vegetarians will yield to their cravings when it comes to Punjabi cuisine. From appetizers like Chola Bhatura and bread pakoras to dinner items like Sarson da saag and Makki di roti, the food of this region is a delight for every palate.

What is the Mildest Indian Curry?

Ever looked at a curry menu at an Indian restaurant and not sure which dish is mild? Or even medium spiced? Some popular mild Indian dishes include butter chicken, tikka masala, dal makhani, and chana masala.

Don’t worry; there are plenty of options out there. From the classic Korma to the north Indian Pasanda (as seen above), here are a few of our favourite dishes that are perfect for those with a low spice tolerance.

What is a Balti Curry?

What is a balti curry? A balti is a curry that comes with lots of vegetables, and it is loose in texture and quite tangy. It is the ideal curry for vegetarians as meat usually takes a back seat.

It is a very popular curry in the UK, particularly in Birmingham, known as ‘the balti triangle’. It is normally served with naan bread to mop up all that delicious sauce!

Indian Home Cooked Food Delivery In the UK

Are you looking for the best Indian Home Cooked Food Delivery Near Me? We are all about serving honest, home-cooked, good food. Our meals are delivered in tiffin boxes (more like milk pails) and are chilled so that they can be eaten cold or heated up later when you are ready to eat.

What is Desi?

People with the name Desi are believed to be creative, independent, and spiritual. While a person’s personality traits may not be entirely determined by their birth name, they do play an important role in identity formation.

What is Desi Meaning? Desi is a term that describes someone with Indian, Pakistani, or Bangladeshi heritage. It isn’t a derogatory phrase and can be used to describe both men and women.

[adoptaconcubus]

Oryza

written for @sosoftandsweet

You could hear the cityscape outside the window, distant as if you were in a second-story room, the street and its bustling of motors and an apparent rain shower far below. It was in a different rhythm than you were used to; you wondered in your half-asleep mind if there had been some kind of accident that was disrupting the usual flow of traffic.

There was nothing to indicate such a crisis, though, just the smooth purr of motors one way and the other, the constant patter of rain. As you woke up a little more, you started to think about the sounds of traffic in different countries—the way some population centers had such reliable rail that it rendered a lot of cars less necessary, so all the motorized vehicles running down the street were bikes and delivery trucks. That might do it, make the pattern of the rumble so different from what you were accustomed to.

But how would you have gotten to one of those places?

You snapped awake mentally at that, but your body was slower to follow.

Your mind whirred trying to process everything you could, scents, sensations, still that same low rumble and the rhythm of the rain. You were in the position you had fallen asleep in—solidly at home, that you recalled—and tried to stretch out to get a sense of what was around you, but your limbs still felt a little leaden. Finally, your arms and legs shifted, and you felt satin smoothness against your skin.

Satin? Your eyes were ready to open now, so you lifted your lids, surprised by the late afternoon tone of the light that entered your eyes.

It was night when you went to bed. You hadn’t slept that long, had you? But then if you were in a different location, globally...

When your vision focused properly, it was to an unfamiliar room. You rubbed at your eyes, and a woman made her way over to you, extending a hand with long black nails.

You would have thought them just freshly done coffin nails, but you realized as her hand neared your face, coming to press on your shoulder, that they were claws.

“Hello?” you croaked.

“Stay still,” she told you, a little bit of sternness in her voice. “It’s been too long since I got my own food. I don’t want you sitting up and getting hurt. Bruised fruit and all that.”

Food? You? “What?”

She crouched next to the bed you were lying in, and you finally met her eyes—striking, in their jewel-like quality and the shape of her pupils. Captivating. You stayed still like she told you. “Where am I?” you asked her.

“Downtown Essur, the residential district, specifically.”

“Essur? Essur, where?”

“It’s been way too long, clearly. Essur is the largest city on this coast. You’re here in the realm of the concubi—joined populations of incubi and succubi—on my best sheets because meals are best served on fine tablecloths, don’t you think?”

You blinked at her, trying to put the pieces together as you took in her form there before you.

“Let’s try again.” She said, giving you a slightly tense smile. “I’m Kaia. I’m a succubus. And you are the tasty little morsel I’d like for dinner.”

Your eyes widened, and you swallowed. “Me?”

“Yes,” she told you, running a claw along the contours of your body over the satin sheet. “I can only imagine you’ve heard some things about succubi; we find ourselves as fascinations in the human imagination from time to time.”

Her claw kept running along your side, up and down, the pressure light but very noticeable. “But I assure you, a lot of what people say isn’t quite accurate. We do feed off latent sexual energy, and take great pride and pleasure—naturally—in stoking more. But we won’t drink you dry. Leave you sore in the morning? Maybe. But don’t the best always?” She let her flat hand stroke across you, almost petting you.

“What are you going to do?” you asked her.

“If you give me permission?” she asked. “Anything you like. Anything you enjoy. Nothing else.”

“But I don’t know what I—”

She shushed you softly. “Well, you’ll certainly find out tonight. We can find out together. And I’d like to start, if you don’t mind,” she went on, curling her fingers to scratch the satin, and your skin below it, making you shiver. “Because like I said, it’s been too long since I had to get my own food. I thought I could coast.” She swallowed. “I can’t. I’m hungry.”

You shifted under the sheet, lying on your back, open to her. “All right. Don’t starve.”

Kaia settled her knee on the mattress beside you, her teeth gleaming when she gave you a grin this time. “Oh I won’t. I’m going to be quite sated.”

You had expected her to peel back the sheet—and it had only occurred to you as you turned under it that the reason you felt her nails so well was that you were nude—but she left it over you, still ghosting her touch over your body as she came closer to you, one hand exploring your body, the other supporting her weight so she could ever so slowly bring her lips to yours.

It was a deep kiss from the start, intoxicating the moment her lips parted against yours. You wondered in the back of your mind if that was a trait of concubi like her—a way to engender further desire and facilitate feeding. But you didn’t care, not when you were learning in a very exciting fashion just how sensitive the roof of your mouth was. As she took a deep breath in through her nose, Kaia retracted a little bit, though she did her utmost not to actually break the kiss. The result was her subtly inviting you closer, further in.

Your little gasp of surprise at the inversion applied just a bit of suction to her tongue, and she hummed into it, letting her hand slip between your satin-clad legs, brushing against the insides of your thighs, teasing just a little.

You weren’t sure when you’d freed your arms from the sheet so you could wrap them around her, but one rested across her shoulders to keep her close, and the other hand was nestled in her hair, its texture spread and bunched between your fingers. Her skin under your arm was warm, warmer than you expected, but delicious against your fingertips.

“Kaia,” you breathed when there was space between your lips and hers.

She kissed your jaw, thrilling in the sound of her name off your tongue, finally letting her fingers brush against the satin separating you from her. While it diffused the caress, it didn’t weaken the sensation at all, and the pleasure it brought sparked low in your belly, ready to boil.

Your hips shifted, trying to ask for more, and she chuckled low, giving you another slow stroke upward, letting her nails flick up at the end this time, drawing a sharp gasp from you.

“Good?” she asked, settling her fingers back on you, rubbing a small circle at varying speed.

“Yes,” you answered her.

“Good,” she purred, “because it’ll be quite satisfying.”

She let her fingers pick up the pace, until you began to press against them, then she took them away.

“Can I get rid of this?” she asked you, rubbing the sheet between her fingers.

You grumbled with what was quickly going from anticipation to frustration. “Yes, yes, please don’t stop what you were doing.”

She tossed the sheet away, and settled on her knees between your legs, her fingers finding you again and finishing what she’d started.

When you reached the peak, Kaia let her eyes close, listening to the heavy breaths and having her fill of your satiety, her hand still working slowly, easing you back down.

“However,” she said when you came back toward baseline and her eyes were open again, “perhaps I could have a taste for dessert?” Her lips parted, a deep want showing in her eyes before she broke out in a smile.

You nodded, still a little breathless. “In a minute, though,” you asked, holding her hands where they rested on your legs.

“Oh, of course. What a terrible host I was, never offering you a drink to start with.” She kissed the inside of your knee, then rose, returning moment later with a glass she offered to you. “Horchata. It’s made with rice from the paddies I live on when I'm further inland.”

You sipped it, delighting in the subtle bite of the cinnamon in it, soothed by the sweetness of the rice. Every sip was like Kaia had been, measured and equal in both excitement and simple pleasure.

Before you knew it, you had finished the glass.

“You can have more if you’d like it,” she told you. “It’s only fair; you sate my hunger, I quench your thirst And you will need the hydration,” she told you with a grin, hands sliding down the outsides of your legs as she started getting into position.

“I’ll have to have you over for dinner again, if you wouldn’t mind,” she remarked, resting her chin low on your stomach so she could look up at you. “I don’t know why I languished so long under the impression any innamorato could feed me nearly as well as you have tonight.” She met your eyes, winked, and then feasted her eyes on the sight of you, her ears on your moans, and her tongue on this delectable course.