#like the pained expression he makes really does look like he 'broke up' with a certain member of the animals......

[nhlclover]

BACKUP VALENTINE MAT BARZAL

pairing: fem!reader x mat barzal

summary: with neither of you wanting to be alone on valentines day, you and mat decide to be each other’s backup valentines.

warnings: friends to lovers, mentions of cheating, little bit of drinking (just wine)

wc: 3.44k

notes: happy belated valentines day!! i totally forgot to write a proper fic on v-day, so here it is, two days late. hope you enjoy!

The night air was crisp when you pulled up outside of Mat’s place, the sting of heartbreak and humiliation still fresh in your chest. The dim glow of his porch light flickered against the dark, casting long shadows over the sidewalk as you stepped out of the car, cradling the container of leftovers and a bottle of wine like they were the only things keeping you upright.

Your heart still felt heavy, raw in a way that only fresh heartbreak could make it. Every bitter word, every excuse he’d given you replayed like a cruel, looping soundtrack in your head. It’s not you, it’s me. I just don’t think I’m ready for anything serious right now. Excuses that sounded rehearsed, lifeless, as if he’d decided long before tonight that he’d be walking away.

You swallow hard, blinking away the sting behind your eyes as you climb the short steps to Mat’s door and knock, three quick raps before you lean against the frame, exhaling shakily.

A few seconds pass before you hear the shuffle of feet, then the door swings open, revealing Mat in a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair mussed, like he’d just been sprawled out on the couch. His brows knit together the second he sees your face, taking in the way your lips press tight, the way your shoulders curve inward like you’re trying to make yourself smaller.

“Shouldn’t you be on a date right now?” he asks, stepping aside immediately to let you in.

You step inside without answering, toeing off your shoes as Mat closes the door behind you. The warmth of his house wraps around you, a stark contrast to the cold outside, but it does little to thaw the ache in your chest. You set the container of leftovers and the wine on the counter, fingers lingering on the glass bottle like it might anchor you.

Mat doesn’t push. He just watches, waiting, arms crossed loosely over his chest. You finally look up, meeting his dark eyes, and something in them softens when he sees the rawness still clinging to your expression.

“He ended things. Tonight. Said he wasn’t ready for something serious.” A humorless laugh bubbles out before you can stop it. “I feel like an idiot. Like I should’ve seen it coming.”

Mat shakes his head. “You’re not an idiot,” he says firmly.

You shrug, peeling off your jacket. To say you were unlucky in relationships might be the understatement of the year. Because, really, how many times could you hear the same excuse before it stopped stinging? Before it stopped feeling personal?

It wasn’t just tonight. It was a pattern, a string of almosts and what-ifs that always ended the same way — with you standing in the wreckage of another failed attempt at love, wondering if you were the problem. If you expected too much, wanted too much, cared too much.

“Anyways, I brought food.” you say, motioning to the takeout and wine.

He watches you move around the kitchen, grabbing plates and wine glasses, before sitting at the counter. He can sense the way you're holding yourself back, the subtle tension in your shoulders betraying the effort it takes to keep your emotions in check, even as the pain seems to radiate from you.

Mat twists the cork free with a satisfying pop, pouring two generous glasses before sliding one toward you. He doesn’t sit right away, just leans against the counter, fingers tapping against his own glass.

There’s a beat of silence before he clears his throat. “Well, if it makes you feel any better,” he starts, glancing at you from beneath his lashes, “I, uh — broke up with Alyssa.”

Your head snaps up. “What? When?”

“A few days ago.” His voice is even, but there’s an edge underneath, something restrained. “She was cheating.”

Your breath catches. “Mat…”

He shakes his head before you can say more, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. “Yeah. Found out last weekend. Had proof. She didn’t even deny it, just—” He lets out a rough, humorless laugh. “Said she was sorry, but, you know, not sorry enough to actually not do it.”

Anger flares in your chest on his behalf. “She’s awful.”

“Yeah, well… I guess we both wasted our time on people who didn’t deserve us.”

Mat’s words settle between you, a quiet, bitter truth you both understand too well. You exhale, long and slow, before taking a sip of your wine, letting the warmth spread through your chest. The weight of the night presses against your ribs, exhaustion creeping in, but there’s something about being here, in Mat’s kitchen, that makes it a little easier to breathe.

You glance at him over the rim of your glass. “You know what the worst part is?”

Mat raises an eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”

“I’m gonna spend Valentine’s Day alone tomorrow, probably eating a heart-shaped pizza and watching romcoms by myself like a loser.” You sigh dramatically, setting your glass down with a thud. “Like, I didn’t even like him that much, but I had plans, you know? Now I’ve got nothing.”

Mat watches you for a moment, amusement flickering in his eyes, but then he shifts, rolling his glass between his hands. “So, don’t spend it alone.”

You blink, a chuckle escaping your lips. “Kinda late for that.”

“No, seriously. Why don’t we go out together?” Mat says.

You squint at him, trying to gauge whether he’s just messing with you, but Mat’s expression remains frustratingly sincere. His dark eyes hold steady on yours, any sign that he’s joking being absent.

“Like… a pity date?” you ask.

Mat scoffs, shaking his head. “No, not a pity date. More like… two people who already planned on feeling sorry for themselves tomorrow, but instead decide to eat good food and drink fancy cocktails together.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That still sounds like a pity date.”

“Fine,” he concedes, throwing up his hands. “It’s a mutually beneficial evening of good food, good company, and zero expectations. How’s that?”

You hesitate. Mat’s still watching you, his expression open but unreadable, like he’s trying not to push too hard. And maybe you should say no — maybe it would be easier to wallow at home in sweatpants with unhealthy food and a tragic movie. But there’s something about the way he’s looking at you, like he genuinely wants your company, not just someone to fill the empty chair.

“C’mon, I still have a dinner reservation anyways,” he pointed out. “It’s at that place, Amalfi, and it took me forever to get a table. And I refuse to let my ex ruin a perfectly good meal.”

“You really don’t want to go alone, do you?” you ask, tilting your head.

Mat shrugs. “I could. But I’d rather go with someone who makes me laugh.”

Your stomach flips unexpectedly at that, and you force yourself to ignore it. You should say no. It would be easier, safer, to say no. But the idea of sitting at home, stewing over your own bad luck, seems unbearable now.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Fine,” you say at last. “But only because I refuse to eat heart-shaped pizza alone.”

The next evening, you stand in front of your mirror, smoothing down the fabric of your dress, nerves curling in your stomach like a live wire. It’s ridiculous, really — there’s no reason to feel this way. It’s not a real date.

But still, you do.

You stare at your reflection, tilting your head as if you might somehow find the reason why your heart is pounding a little harder than it should. It’s just Mat. Your best friend. The guy who has seen you at your worst, who has held your hair back when you were sick and made you laugh when you wanted to cry.

And yet, there’s an undeniable flutter beneath your ribs, an anticipation you can’t quite name.

You’re just putting in your other earring when you hear the doorbell ring. You take a steadying breath before making your way to the door, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your dress one last time. The moment you open it, you nearly forget how to breathe.

Mat stands there, looking unfairly good in a suit that fits him perfectly, the crisp lines accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. His dark hair is neatly styled, but there’s still that slightly tousled look to it, like he couldn’t quite tame it completely. His tie is loosened just a little, giving him that effortlessly put-together charm that’s always been so him.

But what truly makes your stomach flip is the way he looks at you.

His mouth parts slightly, his expression faltering as he takes you in. His dark eyes sweep over you, slow and deliberate, lingering on the curve of your dress, the way the soft lighting catches the shimmer of your earrings. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, and for the first time in your life, you see Mat completely, utterly speechless.

“Wow,” he exhales after a beat, voice quieter than usual. “You… You look—” He stops himself, shaking his head like he can’t quite find the right words. His eyes finally meet yours again as he settles. “You look incredible.”

Heat blooms in your chest, spreading up to your cheeks. You know Mat well enough to tell he’s not just saying it to be polite — there’s something different in his voice, in the way he’s still staring at you, like he’s trying to memorize every detail.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to focus. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Mat huffs a soft laugh, like he’s just now remembering how to breathe. He finally seems to snap out of whatever daze he was in, lifting his arm to reveal a bouquet of fresh flowers — soft pink roses mixed with delicate white lilies.

“For you,” he says, offering them with a sheepish grin. “Figured if we’re doing this properly, I should at least bring flowers.”

Your heart stutters. You reach out, brushing your fingers against his as you take them. “Mat…”

He shrugs, suddenly looking a little bashful. “What? You deserve flowers.”

Something about the simplicity of the statement makes your breath hitch. You grip the bouquet a little tighter, inhaling their soft fragrance as warmth spreads through your chest. You meet his gaze again, and for a brief second, you swear there’s something different in his expression — something lingering just beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

But before you can dwell on it too much, Mat claps his hands together. “Alright, ready to go?” His usual easygoing demeanor is back, but there’s still a trace of something softer in his eyes.

You nod, placing the bouquet on the entry table and grabbing your coat. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As you step out into the crisp night air, Mat’s hand hovers for a moment before he reaches for the small of your back, guiding you toward his car with a familiarity that makes your stomach flutter all over again.

When you arrive at the restaurant, it’s warm and intimate, the low hum of conversation mixing with the soft clinking of glasses and silverware. A candle flickers between you and Mat as you settle into your seats, the ambiance wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

The conversation flows effortlessly as you place your orders. There’s never an awkward moment, never a lull where you feel the need to fill the silence. It’s always been easy with Mat, but tonight, there’s something different in the air — something you both pretend not to notice.

The wine arrives first, a deep red that gleams under the candlelight. Mat pours for both of you, raising his glass with a lopsided grin. “A toast?”

“To getting stuck with me on Valentine’s day.” you propose, clinking your glass against his.

Mat snorts, shaking his head as he takes a sip. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

You open your mouth to reply, to make some quip about him being your last-minute, backup date, but Mat interrupts before you can.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you,” he says simply.

The words hang between you, soft but weighted, sinking into your chest before you even have a chance to process them. You search his face, expecting to find that teasing glimmer still in his eyes, but there’s nothing but sincerity there. No jokes, no playful smirk — just Mat, looking at you like he means every single word.

Your stomach flips, and suddenly, the restaurant feels a little too warm. You take a sip of wine to steady yourself, casting your gaze down at the flickering candle between you.

The rest of the dinner is filled with laughter and teasing. Mat makes a game out of guessing the lives of the other restaurant patrons, spinning ridiculous backstories about their relationships. You counter with even more outrageous versions, both of you trying not to laugh too loudly.

The food is incredible, the conversation even better. By the time the check comes, your stomach hurts from laughing, and your cheeks are sore from smiling so much.

Mat reaches for the bill before you can. “I got it.”

You shake your head, pulling out your card. “Mat, come on. We’re both adults. We can split it.”

He scoffs. “Not happening.”

“Mat—”

He levels you with a look, one that’s impossible to argue with. “Let me do this, okay? I want to.”

You search his expression for a moment, but there’s no smugness, no expectation — just quiet sincerity. So you let him, leaning back in your chair as he hands his card over to the server.

The night air is crisp when you step out of the restaurant, the lingering warmth of the meal and wine still settling in your veins. Mat falls into step beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat as you make your way toward his car. There’s a comfortable silence between you, the kind that doesn’t need filling.

The realization creeps in slowly, unfurling in your chest as you glance at Mat out of the corner of your eye. He looks relaxed, content even, the corners of his mouth tugged up in a way that’s not quite a smile but close enough. The streetlights cast a soft glow over his features, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw, the unruly strands of hair falling onto his forehead.

It’s always been easy with him. That thought lingers longer than it should.

The car ride home is quiet, the soft hum of the radio filling the space between you. You steal another glance at him — really look at him this time. The way his hands grip the wheel, the way his brows furrow slightly in concentration. How at ease he seems, how at ease you feel just sitting beside him.

You don’t remember the last time a night out left you feeling this light, this warm.

A quiet sigh escapes you as you turn to look out the window, watching the familiar streets blur past. The evening had been effortless, full of laughter and shared glances that felt different in a way you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

Mat pulls up outside your place, cutting the engine as the streetlights cast long shadows over the quiet neighborhood. The car falls into silence, save for the faint hum of the radio still playing low in the background. You shift in your seat, hands smoothing over the hem of your dress as you glance over at him.

“Tonight was…” You search for the right word, but everything feels inadequate.

Mat turns to face you, an unreadable expression in his dark eyes. “Better than a heart-shaped pizza?”

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Much better.”

A small smile tugs at his lips, but there’s something else in his gaze — something softer, something lingering. The air between you feels charged, heavy but not uncomfortable, like there’s something unspoken hanging just out of reach.

You hesitate for a second before finally unbuckling your seatbelt. “I had a really great time, Mat.”

He watches you closely, almost like he’s trying to gauge if you actually mean it. “Yeah?”

You nod, a little surprised by how much you do. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a date that didn’t feel like work. Where I could just… be myself.”

Mat blinks, like your words catch him off guard. “Well, yeah,” he says after a beat, his voice quieter. “It’s easy with us.”

Something in your chest tightens at that.

You open the car door, stepping out into the cool night air. Mat follows, shutting the driver’s side door before falling into step beside you as you make your way to the front door. He doesn’t have to walk you up, but he does anyway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat.

You stop at your doorstep, turning to face him. He’s standing so close now, close enough that you can catch the faintest hint of his cologne, something clean and warm that makes your stomach flutter. You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and for a long moment, neither of you speaks.

“Thank you, again, I really had a great time tonight,” you say again, softer this time, as if you need him to believe it.

Mat lets out a breath, his lips pressing into a small, almost disbelieving smile. “Good.” His voice is low, rough in a way that makes warmth curl in your stomach. “Me too.”

There’s a beat of silence, thick and electric. His eyes flick down to your lips — so quick you might’ve missed it if you weren’t already doing the same to him.

He swallows, shifting his weight like he’s waging some internal battle with himself. And then, before you can say anything else, he steps forward, wrapping you in a hug.

It’s not rushed, not casual — it’s slow and deliberate, like he’s grounding himself in the feeling of you against him. You sink into it easily, your arms slipping around his waist, your cheek resting against his chest. His body is warm, solid, and you let your eyes flutter shut for just a second longer than you should.

When he pulls back, his hands linger — one resting lightly on your waist, the other brushing against your arm before finally retreating. He exhales through his nose, looking at you like he’s debating something, like he’s on the edge of something neither of you quite understand yet.

And then he leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek.

Your breath catches, the warmth of his lips searing into your skin. You don’t move. Can’t move. His face is so close now, his nose almost brushing against yours as he lingers there for half a second too long.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as your eyes flick between his lips and his gaze. You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and steady, and the tension between you shifts into something undeniable.

Mat’s hand comes up then, fingers curling lightly under your chin, tilting your face toward him. His touch is gentle, uncertain, but there’s something behind it.

His thumb brushes lightly against your skin, and he swallows before murmuring, “Can I?”

But you don’t let him finish the thought.

Before he can second-guess himself, before you can second-guess yourself, you close the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a soft, hesitant kiss.

Mat stills for half a second, like he wasn’t expecting you to make the first move. But then his hand tightens slightly at your waist, his lips moving against yours with an aching slowness that makes your head spin.

The kiss is tentative, lingering — like the both of you are still trying to figure out what this means, where it’s going. But it doesn’t feel wrong. If anything, it feels like something inevitable, something you’ve been dancing around for longer than you even realized.

When you finally pull back, your breath is unsteady, your heart hammering against your ribs. Mat’s forehead brushes against yours, his eyes still closed, like he’s memorizing the moment before reality sets back in.

“I don’t want to be just your backup Valentine,” he murmurs, voice rough with emotion.

A small smile plays at your lips. “Good. Because I don’t want this to be just one night.”

Mat exhales a laugh, shaking his head before pressing another soft kiss to your lips, like he can’t help himself. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

Maybe you did. Maybe, deep down, you’d always known.

[ladykailitha]

Share With Me One Love, One Lifetime Part 5

We are now in the latter half of this story and hooboy is going to worse before it gets better. Again this story is done, I'm just putting out the remaining chapters I have.

We have the Forrest talk, The Wheeler House, and Wayne blows a gasket. Poor, poor Wayne.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

“Dustin looks up to you so much, Steve,” Eddie murmured. “It’s all he talks about. Hell, it’s all they all talk about. If Jeff and them didn’t know you before they joined Hellfire they would have gotten psychic damage with how much they talk about Steve the hero.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, well. I wish he’d tell me more to my face instead of all the bullshit I do get from him. Like he had a bag filled with flashlights and I asked him where he got them, do you want to know what he said?”

Eddie let out a pained sigh. “Something snarky and rude?”

“Right in one,” Steve groused. “He said that I was an adult and shouldn’t have to be told everything. Like no one else gets that amount of disrespect. Including you, who is older than I am.”

“That little shit head,” Eddie said with another sigh. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Thanks.”

They walked in silence for a moment or two before Eddie spoke up.

“I’m learning this week that I’m coward,” he murmured, poking and twisting his hands nervously. “I didn’t think I was until Chrissy. But when I saw her raise up to my ceiling...I–I just ran. I could have stayed. I could have tried to help. I knew that this place was and I couldn’t help her.”

Steve shook his head. “Do you remember the first comic I ever drew for you?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and his hangdog expression cleared. “The gun, the boy running to his car before dashing back into save the day, the fear...”

“Yeah, Eds,” he murmured. “It was always about that. Running in is okay as long you know that when the time comes you’ll do the right thing in the right time.”

Eddie ran his hands over his face. “God, Stevie,” he murmured. “I hesitated. To jump in after you. You had just been dragged in and Nancy went in right after you, Robin merely a second later. But I paced that god damn boat before following suit.”

“So what?” Steve said, reaching up to guide Eddie’s face to meet his head on. “I bet I can tell you what your thought process was.”

“Steve...” Eddie whined. “Jumping in after immediately was the biggest sign of true love I’ve ever seen.”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t want her, I want you. Because I know you hesitated to jump because you weren’t sure if you should go back to sure and let everyone know what happened or to jump in and protect me and the girls. You chose to protect us, Eddie. Don’t be so hard on yourself, okay? I love you.”

Eddie closed his eyes and let go of all the jealousy and envy he had over Nancy and what they had before Eddie came along. He knew Steve was gay. He knew that Steve had chosen him and had kept choosing him, time after time. But when he saw the way the two of them teased each other, the green-eyed monster reared its ugly head, causing him to throw his vest at Steve.

He nodded and then accepted the kiss that Steve gave him. They might be in a hellscape running for their lives with an evil wizard and all his minions chasing after them but they had each in other in this.

And they would make it. Together.

~

“They’re gone!” Nancy cried. “They aren’t here. They should be in this shoe box, but all that’s in here are the shoes that I ruined my junior year. I broke the heel on the one and had to toss them both out.”

“What do you mean they’re gone?!” Eddie bit out through clenched teeth. “How could they be gone?”

“It doesn’t make any sense!” she cried gesturing wildly. “They should be here!”

Steve wandered over to the wall and looked up at the poster. “Nance, when did you exchange your Blondie calendar for the poster?”

“Steve is that really important right now?” she snapped and then she turned around to see said calendar on the wall. “Oh!”

“What does that mean?” Robin asked, trying to break the tension that suddenly ramped up in the room.

“I think the Upside Down is stuck in 1983,” Nancy murmured. “But since the revolver isn’t here either, I’d have to guess November 6th.”

Robin and Eddie shared a confused glance.

“I don’t know what that means,” Eddie admitted, sticking his hands in his back pockets.

“That’s the day Will disappeared,” Steve said absently. He poked the calendar a couple of times. “What is so important about that day...?”

Nancy just shook her head. “What are we going to do now?”

“Well,” Steve said with the shrug of his shoulders, “we can always make my weapon again.”

Nancy raised her eyebrows and then grinned. “That will certainly help, yes.”

~

They thundered down the stairs, but Steve stopped. Nancy and Robin kept going, but Eddie slowed down and looked back.

“What’s up, Stevie?” he asked as he watched his boyfriend strain as if he was hearing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Hey, guys wait up!”

Nancy and Robin turned around to see Steve inch down the stairs, his head cocked upwards.

“Can’t you hear it?” Steve asked. “It’s Dustin, I’m sure of it! And I think...Max.” He shook his head. “I can’t quite make it... out...”

Before Nancy could scoff again, Robin giggled.

“I can hear them too!” she said excitedly jumping up and down and clapping.

It didn’t take them long to figure out how to communicate with them and they found out that they had picked up Erica and she had been read in.

“How many times do I have to be right before you believe me?” Dustin barked angrily.

“Jesus Christ. This kid's gotta get his ego in check,” Steve said twisting his lip and shaking his head ruefully.

Eddie leaned over to look past Nancy and Robin, “It’s his tone, right?”

After everything was decided that they all meet up at Eddie’s trailer, Eddie grimaced. “How are we going to get there? It’s like seven miles from here.”

Nancy looked around for a moment. “Well if it is the 6th, then all the kids would have had their bikes here. I mean it might be a little tight for the boys, but it’s better then walking.”

~

Once they were back top side, Wayne bullied the four older teens into showers and changed before sitting Steve down to do a proper stitch job while everyone caught up with what everyone had learned, but especially Nancy’s vision.

“We have to attack now,” Nancy said. “We don’t know who he’ll pick next and Max shouldn’t have to live on borrowed time.”

“Yeah,” Dustin said, nodding along with her. “We know that while Vecna is in the void his body is vulnerable to attacks. If we can lure him into attacking someone to open the fourth gate then we can attack his body in the Upside Down?”

“Oh is that all?” Eddie sneered, rising to his feet.

“Yep!” Dustin said cheerfully and Eddie slowly said back down in disappointment.

Wayne crossed his arms in front of his chest and sat back, allowing Steve to stand up. His back arms had been cleaned and properly bandaged, his sides had been sterilized, stitched, and re-bandaged, his neck cleaned and bandaged to keep further dirt out of the wound.

“Yeah?” Wayne said, “And who’s gonna be fighting this evil wizard of yours? Steve? The fella I just spent the last twenty minutes putting back together? Or the two ladies who are still in high school? Or any of the other children here, present?”

Dustin opened his mouth, but no words came out and everyone shifted around nervously as for the first time an adult put their foot down and said they shouldn’t be doing this.

Max came back into the front part of the trailer. “I tried reaching the Byers again and it’s a busy signal again.”

“Which means we have even less time then we thought,” Nancy insisted, putting her hands on her hips. “We need to take him out now before our friends get hurt, especially since we don’t know who his next victim will be.”

Wayne licked the bottom of his lips slowly. “Well you ain’t doing it with the eight of ya.”

Everyone looked around in confusion as it seemed like they were all counting their numbers.

“Before we get further,” Steve said quietly. “We do know who his next is. I read the files from Ms. Kelly’s office. I know how they all started. For Fred, Patrick, Chrissy.” He paused and then looked up. “Max.”

She froze in place and fought the urge to look over at the person she knew he was talking about, trying to look everywhere else.

“Yeah, Stevie?” Eddie asked gently. “Who’s next on the evil wizard’s hit list?”

Steve sat down hard between Lucas and Eddie and propped his chin on his knuckles. “It always starts off with visions. Visions of things he thinks you’re guilty of. I’m guessing in Max’s case it was Billy, like it was Nancy’s siblings in hers.”

Nancy wrapped her arms around her waist and looked down at the ground, rocking back on one heel of her shoes.

Both Wayne and Eddie tilted their head in the same direction at the same time as they regarded Nancy.

“Something tells me,” Eddie said wetting his lips, “that she knew that. Didn’t ya Nance?”

Max looked back and forth between Eddie and Nancy. “I was about to suggest using myself as bait, because if we can distract him long enough for a strike team to destroy his physical form, we can get rid of the Upside Down for good. But you’re telling me that she knew she was the next victim and was still going to let me be the sacrificial lamb?”

Steve shook his head. “Good ole Nancy Wheeler, only looking out for herself. We could wait a week and have Nancy be bait. Hell, we all have Walkmans. We get enough batteries and enough tapes I’m sure Max could last that long. But she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want to go through the visions and guilt. Because she knows deep down Vecna, Henry, whoever is right. It is her fault Barb died.”

“Uh...” Lucas said into the resulting silence. “So are we going with Max or Nancy because that is really something we should decide before we get any further...”

“I’m all for taking the bastard out now,” Wayne said with a shrug. “But not with just us. We need more people.”

Steve turned to Eddie. “Are the boys still in town?”

Eddie got up and started waving his hands. “No. Nope. Absolutely not, Steve. We aren’t dragging them into this. Ignorance is hella bliss in this case. You know it is!”

Dustin shook his head ruefully. “If you’re suggesting who I think you’re suggesting, it couldn’t hurt. I mean Jason is amassing a lynch mob and we need all the help we can get.”

“I’d want to know,” Lucas said softly. “After what Jason and his goons did to Gareth. If I were them, I’d want to know.”

Eddie turned to glare at him. “And what did they do to Gareth?”

Lucas explained why he was no longer with the basketball guys to Nancy, Robin, Wayne, and Eddie.

“God damn it!” Wayne cussed. “That’s how they found out about the lake house? And Chief Powell just let them go? I’m going fucking sue this whole incompetent asshole county!”

“Well,” Nancy said, “I’m against it. We need a small strike team not a god damned army.”

“The hell you don’t,” Wayne snapped. “I saw the beast that damn near took out the mall and if it’s Henry Creel like we think it is, then we’re going to need everyone we can. And since we’re spread pretty thin on the ground right now with the Cali crew in the wind and Hopper dead... we need people. I would rather it not be children, but I’m out of options right now.”

Eddie pushed his fingers into his eye in frustration. “Fine.”

They all turned to him in shock.

“Fine,” he bit out again, flopping back onto the sofa. “I’ll round up the Hellfire crew. Shit, I’ll even see if Marty and Janice are in town for the week, because if we’re dragging people into this shit, we’re getting the whole band back together.”

“We’re going to need weapons and supplies,” Steve said with a sigh. He didn’t like the plan, but it was all they had. “And way to get all us of there.”

“The weapons are easy,” Wayne said with a huff, “War Zone. They’ll have everything you need. For both.”

“If we’re trying to avoid people from town,” Erica said, rolling her eyes, “maybe we should avoid a store called War Zone.”

Wayne snorted, “And you got somewhere else we can load up on supplies, little miss?”

Erica opened her mouth but no words came out.

“That’s what I thought,” Wayne said smugly.

“That takes care of one,” Robin said with a nod. “But what about transportation?”

“I have something,” Eddie said with a grin.

Steve came up to stand next to him. “You got some hidden car we don’t know about?”

“It’s not exactly a car,” Eddie said smirking at Wayne, “and it’s not exactly mine, but it’ll do.”

“Boy...” Wayne said warningly.

Eddie willfully ignored him. “Hey, Max you got a bandanna or mask I can use?”

~

Tag List: SEVEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @beelze-the-bubkiss @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @themoonagainstmers

9- @steddieislife @chaotic-waffle @strangerfolks

[the-alan-price-combo]

...Today is my three-year Alan-versary!!!! 🎹✨️🐾 So, I figured I'd redraw some of my favorite Alan expressions from the movie that introduced me to him!

[xazse]

Female!Reader × HybridPuppy!Yuji

The reader produces breast milk , which she expresses and donates to a shelter for small hybrids. HybridPuppy!Yuji often hugs her and presses himself against her chest to inhale the smell of milk, which makes his mouth water and his cock hard. In the end, he can't resist and begs his mistress to let him suck her milk. Or he sneaks into her bedroom at night and drinks her milk while she sleeps.

Instead of Yuji, you can have Satoru if you want to change the character

Notes: I love this so fucking much, I made a few changes I hope you don’t mind and I’m using Satoru btw because I don’t write for minors.

Pairings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x LactatingFem!Reader

Warnings: I’m sorry but I’m warning ya now this is some nasty shit but a good nasty if ur into this! + Smut + Lactation + hybrids + reader has big boobs + possessive!Satoru + perv!Satoru + porn with plot + notproofread + bathroom sex + I think I spent too much time on plot and not enough porn sorry!

You love visiting the shelter near your house, it’s just a ten minute walk of you enjoying the scenery and speaking to the townspeople, they always greet you with the warmest smiles because they know you, they’ve known you for years.

In fact everyone here knows you: a widowed mother and wife, a mother whose children have been moved on to pursue their own hopes and dreams so in your little warm house it’s just you. You’ve noticed for a while a void in your heart, the loneliness does get to you some days but not today.

Recently a facility had been built, a hybrid facility, at first you hadn’t ever thought those existed because under new law hybrids are allowed to coexist around regular humans, they are to be treated as such it was a long time coming, it hurt your heart to see them being treated as outcasts.

You learned that this facility was for the young, abandoned and on occasion they’d take in adults who still couldn’t find their place.

And in that place you finally found your calling. for some odd reason you and your doctor couldn’t place you were still weirdly lactating, it was exhausting having sore breasts and an endless supply of milk you’d have to pour down the drain: too embarrassed to donate it in fear of being found out in the small town of people.

You awake up with full boobs that needed to be emptied or you’d spend the entire day in pain, pumping the milk was the only way, you’d only have to do it once a day but the sheer amount could keep a baby feed for the entire day.

You’d been talking to one of the workers of the facility and they’d been explaining how the young ones weren’t exactly taking well to the supplied formula milk, “they’d cry constantly” he exclaimed and it broke your heart into pieces the thought of them not eating hurts you, for the very first time you confided in the worker and he didn’t look disgusted not one bit in fact he seemed overjoyed.

“Disgusted? Why would I feel that way? This means the little ones will eat and not throw fits.” When he finishes that sentence a long drawn out sigh leaves his lips. You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips.

Suguru you learn comes by your house to pick up the supplements and does he have some comments, he had waited a week to see how much you would produce.

“All this?!” You stand in your doorway shyly nodding in his presence, he’s actually appalled you weren’t lying when you said you have a good bit, he shakes the box in his hands and listens carefully, it’s hard for you to watch him do that right in front of you and not get a little flustered.

He thanks you graciously and makes his way back to the facility, you really hope they like it, it was one hell of a week for you. Though the feeling you did something good swarms you with warmth.

After that it was found that they absolutely loved your milk, and you had plenty to give, it was so cute the way Suguru described their reactions and how priceless it was. One little one had whined for more: Yuji was a special character he required a bit more milk since he was malnourished, Suguru couldn’t stop describing how he would not let go of the bottle, his grip was not going to let up easily, he looked so genuinely happy describing his work and how much he enjoys this field.

You break out of your thoughts and make your way to the facility, it’s downright gorgeous garden greeting you before the glass doors, smelling so good greets you just as warmly, you open the door and offer your greetings to the staff, Suguru had told you on the phone that the little ones had been particularly needy and needed some attention, attention they couldn’t provide right at the moment so they called you: they always do.

They’re way more comfortable with you, always asking when you’re coming back and on occasion they’ll beg you to stay a little longer with them, cute little faces decorated in tears to trick you.

Right now you’re relaxing on the mat in the playroom whilst they all run around chasing after one another, Nobara: a little lion hybrid is trying her hardest to doze off on your lap, she can’t with all the loud children playing like it’s their last day ever. You slowly and softly rub her short locs to lull her, it’s working until Yuji: a tiger hybrid ever the energetic thing is crawling to come bother her.

With Megumi: a wolf hybrid, and basically his other half following right behind him quietly.

Nobara seems unphased by the tiger trying to bother her, simply shooing him away so she can get her beauty sleep, that sentence makes you giggle, you continue to watch the threes antics without saying a word, a show with no production is how they act together.

Yuji sees your hands rubbing Nobaras ears and he’s immediately making his way towards your soft fingers, basically forcing you to rub his orange striped ears, this doesn’t make Nobara happy and she tries to shove him away; whining for your attention again.

You know how they get if you aren’t showing them equal parts attention so now both of your hands are preoccupied, Megumi doesn’t seem to mind, simply sitting and watching on.

You hear his voice before you even see him, he’s definitely running through the halls disrupting the staff, he’s yelling your name so loud that you know its Satoru and how eager he is, you know how eager puppy hybrids can be.

When he pops his head into the playroom the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen, he quickly makes his way over to you ignoring the little growls the babies give him, he’s pushing them aside against your protest and laying in your lap. The grip he has around your waist allows for him to fully envelope himself in your breasts.

“Missed you’s much” he playfully whines.

“You seen me yesterday Toru.”

Satoru lets out a satisfied sigh in the warmth of your boobs, he’s become obsessed with you, and it’s bad he’s had to he reprimanded by Suguru and the other staff multiple times for his possessiveness it’s not his fault though! He can’t control how he feels about you not after that day.

It was when he was feeding Megumi, sometimes as a way to bond Suguru will have Satoru bottle feed them, though he absolutely dreads it, he has to put up with it, all the other adult hybrids are far too hard headed.

He was curious one day, about how the milk had tasted, he found out through Suguru that the formula had been changed to breast milk, it was a slip of the tongue but he himself had also noticed how they whined for more.

He unscrewed the top to the bottle, the little calm Megumi was already drifting off so he wasn’t a problem.

He took a sip, and quickly pulled away: fully expecting it to be the worst thing he’s ever tried: it’s baby food not food meant for him but that feeling on his tongue never came in fact it was actually quite good.

Another sip and another after that; he scarfed the remains of the bottle down with a flushed face, it tassted like- well he couldn’t describe it but he knew he fucking loved it. He found himself sneaking into where it was kept and taking some for himself, it was almost an everyday thing, he knew when Suguru was questioning and bothering him he had to stop but he couldn’t, until he met the source of where the milk was coming from.

He snuggles his face deeper, ignoring and zoning out the loud noises around him, he can smell the milk on your breasts, you recently pumped? Probably this morning to be exact as and all he can think about is how you sat there for hours getting rid of the awful feeling in your sore breasts.

You feel something hard against your leg, you know how Satoru feels about you but this is too much. You’ve already had to tell him in the past that he’s much too young for you and would be better off finding someone who can fit his needs, he insists that he only wants you and doesn’t care about the age difference.

You have yet to bring up these feelings to Suguru though, you can’t bring yourself to say because what if Satoru won’t trust you anymore, it was hard building trust with the man due to his past experiences.

He’s only getting more excited by the minute, his tail moving in slow languid motions.

The way he’s looking up at you is filled with nothing but love and lust, you know that look too well.

You aren’t sure why you’re in a bathroom stall with Toru whilst he feels you up, caressing your boobs, every attempt to tell him to stop dies on your tongue when he rubs a sore area, your breath hitching in your throat when he grinds his hard cock on you.

Such a needy puppy he is, whining under his breath words that you can’t quite decipher especially with how heated you’re getting, your mind getting foggier by the minute as you let Satoru get his fill of you.

He rips apart your blouse and carelessly throws it on the floor, along with your bra next. Your nipples are exposed to the cold air of the facility and Satoru is reveling in it. He paws at your heavy boobs with rough calloused hands that are uncoordinated, squeezing the fat in his hand until he sees what he wants.

The droplets of your milk finally coming to fruition, he licks one nipple and you think you can see him visibly shake with excitement, he filts that nipple in his mouth and suckles, after a good minute he ceases his constant unconscious movements and readily focuses on the sweet milk cascading down his throat.

A moan breaks free from your trembling lips, this feels nothing like the machine you have at home, this feels so fucking good it alone has your cunt throbbing in your panties, the swirling of his tongue and just how content he looks is driving you mad.

You slip into that space that you know is bad for you, your voice is for some reason egging Satoru on, calling him all sorts of names that entice him to suck harder. Your hands don’t listen to you either because you’re rubbing the front of his pants in soft motions.

His whimpers don’t go unnoticed, nor does his swishing tail, such a good boy you tell him, losing all sense of rational he drags you with him to sit on the toilet, you don’t expect the amount of strength he has for being so lanky but he manages it.

He goes right back to sucking on your fat breasts that still replenish his appetite.

You let Satoru strip you of your bottoms and your panties, you let him slip his cock inside of you when you know you shouldn’t, he isn’t big but he fucks constant, always hitting that good spot inside of you based off your reactions.

He looks disheveled and messy, his face red and his mouth dripping with drool and remnants of your milk.

You let him bend you any which way he sees fit in that stall, an overexcited hybrid means it’s going to take a while to exhaust them, though you feel tired after having an orgasm you’ve never experienced he isn’t done, he’s cum multiple times, filled your cunt with his leaky cum he still isn’t done yet.

When he’s got you in his lap leaning on him for support he’s nonstop talking about what you and him will do from here, he talks about how he wants a family of his own and how you’ll be such a perfect mommy to his little ones.

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

"Bite Me" - Alastor x Reader - Part 2

prev

You....really shouldn't have bitten Alastor.

It was a threat, yep, and the guy did need to learn his actions had consequences, but...er. Was that really worth this?

The Radio Demon had practically been your shadow for the past week. His expression never changed, his tone never shifted. You were like, 90 percent sure he was thinking of the best way to kill you for maximum pain.

Pain wasn't good. You were allergic to it.

...That line usually got a chuckle out of whoever heard it, or in your case, whenever you thought it. However, this time, it didn't quite tickle your funny bone as it usually did.

Because Alastor was standing right there.

And staring at you.

In your goddam bedroom.

"....Hi." You said, chewing on your bottom lip.

Alastor's gaze darted for a second to your lip, then back to your eyes. And he said nothing.

"...Did you need something?" You said.

He continued to stare at you, unblinking.

You sighed "Listen, if you're going to kill me can you just hurry up already? I'm sure it beats how awkward this is."

Other than the slightest twitch of an ear, he still didn't respond.

You huffed, narrowing your eyes as a growl permeated through the air. "At least say something!"

He didn't.

"OKay, fine!" You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air. You crossed them over your chest with a pout, giving Alastor a mean side-eye. "Keep standing there doing nothing. I guess I could use a new hat rack anyway."

"...You don't have any hats?" He said, tilting his head to one side.

"I'll get some so I can justify having a hat rack." You said, tail flicking.

"Mhm... So, how sincere is this threat?"

"What?"

Alastor straightened his posture, taking a couple long strides to stand right at your bedside. "You make a lot of threats, my dear. And I've only ever seen you carry 1 out."

"Usually people listen to me." You said, rolling your eyes.

"So you've never actually follow through before?" He tilted his head to the opposite side than before. His grin seemed to stretched a bit, ears becoming less stiff.

"Does that make you happy?" You said, turning to face him "That you're the first idiot who made me actually do something?"

From how he practically beamed you can only assume it did. You sighed, flopping down onto the bed on your side. The intent was to ignore him until he got bored and went away or got sick of you and killed you.

Instead you found a shadowy tendril wrapping around your middle, rolling you onto your back. Alastor grinned down at you, his body a perfect 90-degree angle bent at the waist.

"I'm the first one you've bit?"

"...Yeah?" You said, raising an eyebrow. "I mean. I think I bit people when I was little and pretending I had rabies, but not really intending to hurt them..."

His grin widened. "How did I taste?"

...

"What."

"I want to know. How did I taste?"

Oh right he was a cannibal. You grimaced internally. Was that just something cannibals got giddy about? 'Hey I'm the first person you've eaten hurrah!'

The tendril around you gave a firm squeeze. You sighed and met Alastor's crimson eyes, giving him a flat look of your own.

"Dry and tough- like badly made jerky."

He laughed. "Well, of course! You bit into my jacket! Silly creature, you."

"....Well, you asked."

"That I did, that I did." Alastor hummed. He tilted his head too far to one side, leaning in closer to you "Would you care for a taste without my jacket?"

"No." You responded curtly.

The silence was palpable. Neither of you broke eye contact or changed your expressions for several moments. Those moments seemed very, very long.

His eye slowly twitched up and his ears dropped ever-so-slighty-

"Hm. Well, it's not like you'd manage that anyway."

"Probably not. Are we done?"

Another beat of silence passed before the shadows tendril dissolved into mist and Alastor was standing up straight again.

"Now, I wouldn't say this matter is done, but I suppose it could wait."

You sat up, staring at him. The more you stared, the more his eyes couldn't seem to decide on what to focus on. Was he...nervous?

That encounter didn't go anywhere else significant. He simply said a farewell and left you to your own devices.

===========

Your eye twitched as you took a long, deep breath.

Alastor was being so horribly, horribly annoying.

The last couple days he resumed his role as your shadow, but this time solely with the task of irritating you. He'd chew loudly, he'd step in an off-rhythm on purpose, he'd claw the surface of things you couldn't stand the sound of and it made your ears hurt and your jaw ache from how much you were grinding your teeth.

You had enough.

"Will you LEAVE ME ALONE!?" You snapped at him. He didn't so much as flinch, simply tilting his head and he leaned closer to you.

"Or what?"

"I'm going to shove your hooves so far up your ass you'll be coughing up horseshoes for a week-"

"I'm a deer, not a horse." He said, eyes crinkling up in amusement at your 'threat'.

You hissed out an agitated breath before taking a couple deep, long breaths and you felt your jaw lax (a little) and your temper die down a bit.

"...Yeah, you're right." You said after a moment "And I'm sorry. I didn't really have much of a reason to snap at you like that."

His eyes narrowed and you couldn't be bothered to wonder why. You said a curt goodbye and meandered off, feeling his eyes trained on your retreating form. You couldn't be bother to think about that, either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi it's me the writer. Letting you all know that this is not planned in the slightest and i'm just winging it. No smut will happen EVER though because I don't wanna write it. So kindly look elsewhere if that's what you want. I will put a poll here though with considerations for potential next installment

[luvsupa]

tags: gojo x fem!reader, ex relationship, fluff, angst, takes place after battle w sukuna (he wins), sad ending, mentions of blood, gojo’s lowkey depressed w.c: 1k

a/n: sorry this just came out of nowhere </3

“satoru?” you call out, squinting through the bustling sidewalks of downtown tokyo, trying to confirm if it’s really him. he turns at the sound of your voice, removing one of his earbuds, his heart flipping as he sees you—this isn’t a dream. you’re really here.

it’s been a little over a year since you two broke up. despite the deep love you shared, the relationship was suffocating. you couldn’t stand watching him come home exhausted and scarred, sometimes with blood on his clothes from the dangerous missions. it hurt too much to see him treated like a weapon instead of the person he is. you begged him to leave jujutsu tech, pleading with him day and night to escape the pain that you couldn’t bear to witness.

but the final straw was that night—when he came home, slashes across his body, his clothes torn and bloodied. watching him limp from your shared apartment to the bathroom made your heart shatter. “i’m okay,” he reassured you, but you knew he was on the verge of passing out, desperately hiding his pain from you. he couldn’t let you, his sweet sweet baby, see him in this state.

“‘toru, it’s either you leave that company or i’m leaving,” you cried, your heart clenching at the thought. his identity was tied to saving non-cursed users, but without that, who was he? he stared at you in silence, and you already knew his answer. you packed your things, his tear-filled eyes followed you from the bathroom, silently apologizing for the pain he couldn’t escape.

seeing him now, you can’t help but smile, even as the memories flood back. he looks healthier, but the scars on his face are constant reminders of his battles. “i—how are you?” he stutters, still in shock.

“g-good. how’ve you been?” you reply, your heart sinking at how tired he looks.

“pretty good too,” he says, scratching the back of his head, revealing the scars on his hands. “wanna grab some coffee? there’s a shop down the street.” your eyes widen, and you nod, a mix of excitement and dread swirling inside you.

as you walk side by side, the energy between you feels familiar yet fragile. you chat about the beauty of the night, pointing out flashy sports cars.

inside the café, you sit across from each other, getting a good view of the outside. he returns with two coffees, and you thank him for paying, though you’d always insist on paying- he declined, he never let you pay for anything when you were together.

“have you left yet?” you ask, your voice trembling as you prepare for the inevitable conversation.

“heh, does it look like I’ve left?” he jokes, gesturing to his tired eyes. you wrap your hands around your cup, feeling the warmth seep into your cold fingers. silence falls between you, heavy with unspoken words.

“i miss yo—”

“i have a girlfriend.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut. a girlfriend? your heart drops as your expression falters. why does it hurt so much?

“y-yeah, i’m seeing someone too,” you blurt out, hating yourself for the lie. the laughter that follows feels hollow, and he can see right through you.

“baby, you’re such a bad liar—” he catches himself, the pet name easily slipping past his lips. both of you stare at each other widened eyes as he mistakenly slipped up by calling you baby. he really didn’t mean to! suddenly, the air is thick with tension. you both giggle awkwardly, but inside, it tears at you—how much you miss hearing him call you that.

“if i were your girlfriend, i’d kill you for catching up with your ex and calling her baby,” you joke, but his expression remains serious. not a smile nor a chuckle, making your heart race. have you upset him?

“i mean, you were my girl,” he says, and your mind spins. my girl. you can’t help but pout, taking a sip of your coffee, your gaze drifting outside to the busy streets.

just then, his phone buzzes loudly, drawing your attention. you catch a glimpse of “A♡” on the screen. gojo’s expression shifts as he reads the message, a sadness settling over him. he has to cut your time short. you silently whine as the two of you rise from your chairs, cleaning up any mess as you both head out to leave in opposite directions.

but he stops you. his warm hands enveloping yours. “w-when can i see you again?” he stutters, his voice laced with desperation. your heart races, wanting to cry, to leap into his arms and confess your love, but that’s not an option.

“i’ll see you around, ‘toru,” you say, forcing a warm smile. rising on your tiptoes, you place a soft kiss on his cheek as he blushed hard. he tenses, the longing evident in his eyes as he fights the urge to pull you close, hugging you and kissing you as if you were his again.

“and treat your girlfriend nice,” you add, turning to walk away. each step feels heavier as a lump forms in your throat, fighting back the tears threatening to spill.

“will do,” he calls after you, trying to sound upbeat. but as he walks away, his eyes glisten, filled with unfallen tears. oh, how he misses you.

[secriden]

God, Fadel is just so helplessly in love and so painfully resigned to his harrowing existence that it just fully broke my heart.

Because Fadel thinks that everything Style has told him -- every single facet of Style's frustratingly fascinating character, everything he thought he knew about Style -- has been a lie from the very beginning. In his confession, Bison never clarifies when he told Kant to find someone to pursue him, so Fadel is operating under the assumption that Style is, and has always been, a stranger to him.

Which is why we see Fadel constantly trying to 'figure' Style out in the episode. We see it right in the first scene when Style jokingly snarks, "I'm just curious to know what to expect. It's not like I can just turn the switch on, you know?" Now this should not have thrown Fadel at all, because the joke and suggestive tone and sassy little head flick is very much in line with Style's personality and way of communicating.

But Fadel literally just stops and stares at Style for so long that Style even starts looking a bit confused as he blinks back at Fadel. Fadel has convinced himself that Style is some master manipulator, and he's trying desperately to figure out what Style's plan is (escape? another betrayal?) that he misses the obvious answer which is that Style is just casually making a joke/conversation because this is just how Style talks.

Look at the way he turns so sharply with this startled, confused look (that starts to turn slightly wistful at the end) when Style calls him faen. This wasn't in the cards for Fadel and it's so frustrating and confusing (and painful) to hear Style throw the lie around so casually when it was something that mattered to him. Fadel thinks this is Style playing an angle but he can't see what it is or what Style stands to gain from it, and it leaves him utterly unmoored.

And in all this searching for hidden meanings and new deception, Fadel misses that Style is acting very much in good faith: the story Style comes up with about why they're looking for a missing person on their own like this (instead of, y'know, going to the police like upright, non-hitman citizens would've) was really good to explain their urgency/frustration and preempt any suspicion so that the auntie is unlikely to report them to the cops. Style is actively, genuinely helping Fadel out and using his excellent skills at playing Asian aunties to full effect for him.

Ugh, just look at how earnest and worried Style's expression is!? He totally disarms the auntie while I bet she would've been a lot more suspicious and distrustful if grumpy face on the left had come asking questions alone.

And Fadel literally keeps missing when Style is being honest. Or rather, he is wilfully refusing to believe or trust in that earnestness. Style hasn't made any attempts to run away or even hint to the auntie that he needs help, but Fadel won't trust him (because he's still, even now, waiting for the other shoe to drop; for yet another betrayal).

And Style keeps doing and saying things that don't make sense for the role Fadel's assigned him because why would a police informant who is just trying to get evidence of your crimes say or do any of this?? What does he stand to gain by keeping up the pretence? Does he know that every word that dangles his love like an impossible temptation is more knives in Fadel’s chest? But Style is all earnestness and something in Fadel can still recognise that and that’s why Fadel is constantly swinging from anger and resignation to agony and hope. Just the look of sincere, wordless, helpless bafflement on Fadel's face!? The way it screams 'Why are you doing this to me??!??'

I think this is why we get silly-goofy-funny music for the first half of Style's harrowing confession. Because this scene is shot from Fadel's perspective and he thinks, at first, that this is yet other play or ridiculous attempt to get a rise out of him. And it's not until Style starts talking about his mother that the comedy music finally stops and turns sad. Because this -- this is something that Fadel knows is real (at least he should know that Style's mom really did die when Style was a kid; that would've turned up in the background check), and it suddenly becomes clear to Fadel that this time Style is serious.

And oh, this shakes Fadel like nothing else has since Style said the words "I really do love you". Because Style gives this to him without any hesitation, with full vulnerability. Style is so openly, almost brutally honest in this moment. He's terrified and sad and hurting and it's horrifying because this sincerity forces Fadel to face the bitter truth that the journey his rage and his anger has set them on leads to only one conclusion.

Fadel simply cannot handle that right now. He's not ready to face the reality that his only real option, the only logical choice is that Fadel must kill Style. Because Style has now seen the full extent of his darkness; Style knows and has been hurt and shaken and terrified because Fadel has repeatedly threatened his life. Style's very existence is now a threat to not only Fadel and Bison's continued freedom but also his mother and Keen and anyone else that Fadel has ever been trained to put first.

Style lies next to him in bed, sobs wracking his body, and Fadel cannot let himself reach out because to do so is to acknowledge the truth of Style's words again. To do so is to open the door to trust, to admitting that he still cares about Style, that Style's tears still have the power to hurt him.

That Fadel is still so painfully, hopelessly, terribly in love with Style.

Because Fadel still remembers the last time he reached out and held Style in his arms whilst knowing that he was betrayed and that their love was a lie. Fadel remembers that even then, all he could do was cling even more tightly to Style and hope that the music and their shifting footsteps would be enough to hide his silent tears.

And just as his heart froze his finger on the trigger, so too does his fear hold him captive here. Because Fadel knows, he knows, he knows down to the marrow of his bones that if he allows himself to touch, then this time— this time, he won't be able to let Style go.

[eternalrafayel]

╰┈➤ "are you crying?..."

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the L&DS boys comforting a crying MC pairings: sylus x gn!reader, zayne x gn!reader, xavier x gn!reader, rafayel x gn!reader ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ SYLUS: ☆ when he notices you crying, his face turns into a serious and stern expression, gently lifting your chin to face him so he can ask who did this ☆ when you tell him no one and that you've just had a rough day his face lightens a bit, but he looks more worried now that angry. ☆ he says he's going to take you shopping, you try to protest and say that he doesn't need to but he insists, he wants to cheer you up. ☆ he even helps you by getting dressed in the outfit that makes you feel happiest, and puts your shoes on for you, the royal treatment and everything. ☆ "buy whatever you want, kitten. I'll gladly pay. Don't make me look broke now." ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ ZAYNE: ☆ when zayne asked you how you felt through the phone he heard your voice crack and you breaking down into tears. ☆ he was surprised at first, asking you what happened and if you were in pain at all. ☆ when you explain you had a rough day, he told you he was going to come over, he wanted to make sure everything was okay. ☆ he brought over some takeout from your favorite restaurant and even brought his notebook to jot down some things just in case you needed to talk. ☆ you couldn't help but laugh at how serious he was acting, he really was acting like a doctor as per usual. ☆ he sat down next to you and you two discussed the day while eating, every so often laughing when zayne brought up the techniques he learned to help with crying. ☆ "you know, it's good to cry sometimes. healthy for the body and brain. don't feel so ashamed." ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ XAVIER: ☆ he doesn't really understand why you sounded so sad during your hangout with him, you just didn't seem like yourself. ☆ he asks if he did something to make you feel this way, when you say no and that he's perfectly alright, he only gets more confused. ☆ you explain you're just having a rough day, and when he asks you to explain it, you can't help but start to cry. ☆ taken aback by this, he looks around for a moment, then hesitates before placing a hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles around it, trying to comfort you. ☆ he tries not to smile while he does, you just look really cute right now, especially since you always try to act so tough around him. ☆ "i'll stay with you, okay? cry as much as you need, i'll be here." ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ RAFAYEL: ☆ he asked you to go to the beach with him today, he just wanted to take a nice walk with his lovely bodyguard. ☆ you kind of walk slowly behind him instead of next to him like you usually do, this definitely gets noticed by him. ☆ he brings it up and stops walking, turning around facing you directly with a frown on his face. ☆ when he makes eye contact with you, he notices you're crying, now instead of a pout, his face was full of worry. ☆ when he asks what happened, and if it was something he did, you reassure him that it wasn't him and that you've just had a rough day. ☆ he sighed sadly, he hated to see you cry like this. he wiped a tear off your face with his thumb and smiled at you gently. ☆ "do you want to see the sunset with me this evening? it won't be as pretty as you, but it comes pretty close."

[moonstruckme]

May I request a dr Remus scolding reader for ignoring a broken toe?

I know it’s nothing major (which is nice sometimes). I often break my toe and just ignore it until it hurts a lot.

I think Remus would give a good little speech about taking care of things he love (reader)

Thank you!

I'm sorry, often??? Uhh hope you're doing okay lovely, thanks for requesting <3

cw: broken toe, no description

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 730 words

“Don’t touch it,” you hiss.

Remus looks over from where he’s holding your foot in his lap with a sardonic expression. “I thought it didn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t when you’re not touching it!” 

“Dove.” He wraps a hand around your ankle when you try to pull away, his touch one part soothing and two parts stern. “I’m going to have to touch it some, okay? Just breathe and let me know where it hurts.” 

You sit back against the couch cushions and try not to sulk. This is entrapment. Your know-it-all boyfriend hid the pain relievers just so you’d have to fess up to needing them when he caught you ransacking the bathroom, and now he’s making you submit to his know-it-all exam so you can have them. Entrapment and bribery. You should look into whether you can sue him for malpractice. 

“Ah!” You suck in a gasp. “There, it hurts there.” 

Remus stops touching your injured toe. “Sorry,” he says, rubbing the bottom of your foot consolingly. “I hate to tell you, but this isn’t a sprain. Sprains don’t hurt to the touch like this.” 

Oh, you’ll bet he hates to tell you. Told-you-so are Remus’ favorite words. 

“But it’s so much easier if it’s a sprain,” you whine. “It could still just be bruised. I read online that those feel almost indistinguishable from breaks.” 

“Oh, you read it online, did you?” Remus manages to get enough eye-roll into his voice that he doesn’t even need to follow through on the action. You must look even poutier than you intend, because he cracks, grinning at you indulgently. He beckons with a hand. “Give me your other foot.” 

You blink. Raise your eyebrows at him. “What do you want with it? I think you have enough of my feet there already.” 

“It’s for comparison, dove.” 

“Sure it is.” You lift your other foot onto his lap. “Pervert.” 

Remus’ tongue pokes into his cheek, suppressing a different sort of grin. He grasps your good foot and digs his thumb into the ticklish part cruelly, making you squeal and kick at him. “You’re the pervert,” he says placidly, pinning your foot until you settle down. “Look here, see?” 

You lean forward tentatively, the end of a giggle still fizzing in your chest. 

“The toe on this foot is a little curved, but that one’s definitely worse.” He tugs on your good toe as if to demonstrate. “They were probably the same before you broke it.” 

You sigh, resigned. “I don’t want it to be broken, though. Then it’s, like, a whole thing.” 

Remus makes a sorry face at you. He lifts your injured foot, kissing the side. “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” 

“Well,” you say, eyeing him, “at least you can stop touching my feet now.” 

“This one, yes.” He unhands your good foot. “But this one, I think I need to keep an eye on.” 

You cross your arms, suspicious. Never mind that his lap is a very comfortable footrest. “And why’s that?” 

“Because I take care of the things that are important to me.” He cuts a look your way. “Some of us don’t seem to do the same.” 

“Ugh,” you laugh, ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks, “you’re the worst, you know that?” 

“Yeah, dovey, I know.” He smiles down at his phone, keeping one hand wrapped securely around your ankle while the other thumbs something into the search bar. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Making you an appointment for tomorrow morning. We have a podiatrist at my work, I’ll go with you.” 

You frown. “Do I really have to go to your office so someone else can tell me what you just did?” 

This time, Remus does roll his eyes. You poke him with your good foot to let him know you saw. “Yes, you do. They could help it heal faster, and I know you’ll listen better if they tell you to rest it than if I tell you.” 

“I listen to you.” 

“Oh, yeah?” He looks over at you interestedly. “I told you to rest it when you hurt it two days ago. How’s it feeling now?” 

You look away from his gaze. “Coddled,” you mutter. 

Remus chuckles. He leans sideways, bumping your nose with his until you oblige him with a kiss. “If that’s what it takes, sweetheart,” he says, “I’m happy to coddle you.”

[bunnylovesani]

You Belong To Me

Summary: You find out about your husband Spencer’s affair with another woman. It's safe to say you don’t have the reaction either of them were expecting.

Content warnings: infidelity, voyeurism, facetime sex, humiliation, p in v sex, creampie

WC: 2.3k

“Who is she?” You shudder with disgust as you stare into the sunken eyes of your husband. He looked almost unrecognisable to you now that you’d learned of his betrayal. 

“Her name’s Maeve. She’s a geneticist who’s been helping me with those headaches.” He sighs resolutely, knowing there was no point attempting to hide this from you. He didn’t mean to let things escalate but you’d been going through a rough patch and Maeve was just so understanding- she embodied all the things you lacked.

“Did you fuck her?” Your voice trembled with anger, goosebumps piercing through your thin blouse as you braced yourself for his response. 

“No. It was a purely emotional affair.” He stated a little too coldly. 

“Ah. And I suppose that makes it alright, does it?” You scoffed, getting up from the sofa you were curled up on with Spencer mere minutes earlier before he came out with his crushing confession. 

“Of course not. There are no excuses.” He looked down, not daring to meet your appalled gaze. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” 

“Spencer Reid speechless? I never thought I’d see the day.” You chuckle darkly, fidgeting with your wedding band. You loved him with all your heart, the day you said your vows was the happiest of your life- now that he’d broken his, you weren’t sure how much any of it really meant. 

“Were you going to leave me for her?” Against your best efforts, your voice broke with a pitiful crack that left Spencer with a pained expression on his handsome face. 

“No! No, I promise. I would never leave you.” He interjected, leaving no room for doubt. “She was just a distraction. You’re it for me.”

You sunk back into the plushy couch with a defeated sigh, unwelcome tears pricking your glossy eyes. 

“I don’t know, Spence…” You sniffled, beginning to slide the ring off your finger. 

“Baby.” He took your hands into his own as he dropped to his knees before you, still in his work suit. “I messed up. I messed up in the worst way possible. I’m a fucking idiot. But if you forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, my love. I’ll do anything.” 

An unfamiliar desperation tinged his voice that made your gut twist into an iron knot. He looked pathetic right now; kneeling on the floor with furrowed eyebrows as he pleaded to save his marriage. 

“I want you to call her.” You exhaled sharply after an excruciating moment of contemplation.

“You- what?” His forehead wrinkles deepened with shock. 

“You heard me. Call the bitch.” He gulped at your request and his eyes darted around frantically as he analysed every possible outcome.

“A video call. I want to see what the little homewrecker looks like.” You spat as he remained motionless, mouth agape and eyes narrowed. “Unless you’d rather get a divorce?” 

“I’ll do it.” He shook his head clumsily, rattled by the whole ordeal. 

“Wonderful. Come sit next to me and prop your phone up on the table.” You patted the spot besides you as Spencer stumbled over, still confused by your unpredictability. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Start dialling.” You snapped snarkily as he scrolled through his phone with shaky hands. Locating her contact, his fingers hovered above the call button. 

“Dr. Donovan, huh?” You peered over. “The one you told me had been helping you with a case?” 

“Y-yeah.” He whispered ashamedly. 

“Now this I have to see.” You murmured bitterly as the line began to ring. 

“Spence, hi! Wasn’t expecting you to call at this time.” The bubbly voice of the other woman rang out through his speakers. Your eyes zeroed in on the pixelated image of a brunette woman with a choppy fringe. 

“Why, do you guys have a set time for your little calls? When I’m sleeping, perhaps?” You popped into the frame, grinning wildly. 

“Oh. H-hello. Spencer, what’s going on?” She looked to him for help but he just sat there resignedly, knowing he couldn't appease you both. 

“So you’re the one who’s been helping herself to my husband.” You chuckled disingenously. “I thought you’d be a lot prettier.” You neared the phone to get a better look. “Really, baby? Her?” 

Spencer looked away, not daring to say a word to his wife or his lover.

“And you? You don’t have anything to say?” You opened the floor to Maeve.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her cheeks reddened as she stuttered, her nauseating voice ricocheting off the walls and worming its way into your ears. 

“That’s okay. I don’t need you to talk. Just watch.” You hissed in such a searing way that it made her feel threatened and inclined to obey. 

Spencer looked up at you in confusion but his doubts were swiftly answered when you loosened his tie and ripped off his collared shirt with a murderous lust. 

“Baby, what-“

“You’re not going to say a word.” You smoothly replied, voice barely audible. 

You observed his sad eyes, entrenched with light crows feet that worsened with the weight of stress and regret. You weren’t sure how you were even going to begin to process his betrayal but right now, you had to take care of her first. What better way to drive home the point that he was yours than to show her? 

Unbuckling his heavy leather belt with an urgency you’d never felt, you glanced over to make sure Maeve was watching. Sure enough, the demure woman couldn’t peel her eyes away from the sight unfolding before her. 

As you pulled down his pleated black trousers, you unbuttoned your blouse and pulled down your skirt, throwing the articles of clothing behind you in a rushed hurl. Trailing your fingers down his boxers with your engagement ring flashing in front of the camera, you settled on his waistband. 

“Now, Spence. You’re going to fuck me in front of her.” 

His breath hitched as the unholy words left your smirking mouth. 

“And you-” You turned to face Maeve, who’s hand engulfed her mouth in panic. “You are going to watch it all.“

“No! You’re insane-“

“Or I’ll tell everyone at your work that you’re a home wrecking whore.” You dropped the threat like a hammer and it instantly silenced her.

“That’s what I thought.” 

A twisted grin consumed your face as you looked back at Spencer, who licked his lips at the sight before him- his wife eagerly spread open on the couch, waiting to be filled up. You weren’t sure whether it was an anxious tick or a sign of arousal and frankly, you didn’t care. 

“Show me how sorry you are.” You breathed heavily as you hooked your black lace panties and pulled them to the side.

Needing no further initiative, Spencer lowered his boxers and let his heavy cock spring free from its confines. Despite sex being the last thing on his mind, he couldn’t help the natural reaction his body had to you- it didn’t matter how many times he’d seen it in the last 5 years of your marriage, the sight of you split open for him was always enough to bring him crumbling to his knees. 

Shuffling closer, he let a long string of spit dribble down to your pussy before smearing it around with his painfully swollen tip. He was in a state of delirium and shock as his body moved as though it weren't his own- whatever the consequences, he knew he couldn't lose you.

“You see that, Maeve?” You cocked your head to the side. “That’s all mine.” 

You moaned shakily as he pushed himself in, coating his shaft in your wetness. 

“Isn’t that right, baby? Tell her.” You ordered your husband as he grabbed the back of your thigh, pushing against it to go even deeper. 

“That’s right.” He groaned as he plunged his cock in as deep as it could go, his skin flush against yours. 

“Who do you belong to?” You gazed up at him, running your fingers through his messy curls. 

“You, baby. I belong to you.” He whispers before turning to face the camera. “I belong to her. She owns me.” 

Maeve let out a short huff of disbelief, wanting to look away but struggling. 

“Harder.” You choked out a whisper as your body trembled under his touch, longing for more, aching to possess and to be possessed. 

His thrusts sped up in response, his hips smacking against yours fervently as you clawed at his back like a wounded animal. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whined as he took you by the face with both hands, forcing you to look clearly at him. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Keep going.” You whispered frantically- the feeling of being perfectly stuffed paired with your volatile emotional state left you teetering on the edge of collapse. 

“She means nothing to me.” He grunted between thrusts and you bore a wide toothy grin at the capriciously sweet words. Real or not, you knew they had to hurt her- and that brought you a sadistic amount of pleasure. 

“What were you thinking going for her?” You tutted as he pounded into you like it was the last time, creamy arousal glistening in the dimly lit lounge. “I’m so much better than her. She’s so ugly. Isn’t she, Spence?” 

“Y-yes.” He whimpered. “She’s nowhere near as beautiful as you.” 

Satisfied enough with his taunting, you pushed him back with a bitter hand against his chest and climbed onto his lap with increasing desperation. 

“Bet you wish you could ride him like this, don’t you?” You sneered as you stroked his wet cock with a couple squelchy pumps. “But you never will. This dick is all mine.” 

You lowered yourself onto him, adjusting to his size with breathy moans as he threw his head back in deluge. Bouncing on it with more force than usual, you looked back to observe Maeve’s horrified face glowing on the screen. 

“You got that, bitch?” You jeered mockingly as you reached for his phone and flipped the camera to show Spencer’s exasperated face. “My husband, my dick.” 

With your final act of aggression, you hung up the call and threw the phone behind you. You were fairly confident she wouldn’t be inserting herself into your marriage again any time soon. 

“What the hell-” Spencer’s croaky voice rang out in intervals as you continued riding him with stomach-churning speed. “was that?”

“I was reminding you who you’re married to.” You halted for a moment to catch your breath. “You seem to have forgotten.”

His firm, calloused hands snaked their way around your hips as he dug his fingernails into your flesh, bringing you closer to him. 

“I'll never make that mistake again.” He declared solemnly, brushing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. “Do you forgive me, my love?”

Your limbs went numb and you felt paralysed at the thought. How could you ever forgive such an abuse of trust? 

Spencer firmly grabbed you by the jaw before trailing his hand to the nape of your neck. You wanted to wriggle out of his grasp but he guided your head to rest over his shoulder as he settled his touch on the small of your back. 

“I don’t know…” You slumped into him, feeling immobilised as you murmured mindlessly. 

He suddenly grabbed your ass and roughly spread it apart to allow easier access to your core- he thrust up into your weeping pussy with a force that had you huffing out wordless squeaks. He set a ruthless tempo, hammering into you as your gushing arousal dripped down his thighs. 

“If I’m going to let that little stunt you just pulled slide-“ He growled with a renewed ferocity. “then you’re going to suck it up and forgive me too.” 

Whining, you smacked the side of his bicep in protest but the way he was fucking your brains out left you unable to speak. 

“I don’t wanna hear it baby.” He kissed your temple sloppily as he patted your hair, smoothing it down while he massaged your insides. “You’re meant for me and I’m meant for you. We’re perfectly fucked up for each other.”

“Mmph-“ You moaned into his shoulder, drool dribbling down his skin as you bit into it. 

“I’m never letting you go.” He sped up as his force and aggression grew, leaving bruises in the shape of fingertips littered along your hips and ass. 

With one final thrust, you came undone - squeezing his cock so tight in the process that he couldn’t help but fill you up to the brim with his cum. You panted as you tried to catch your breath, creamy wetness pouring out of you as he pulled your sweaty bodies apart. 

“Okay.” You sighed. “I forgive you.” 

Spencer abruptly sat up as the precious words spilled from your swollen lips. “You mean it?” He trembled hopefully, melting expression tugging at your heartstrings. 

“Only if you swear to me it’ll never happen again.” You wagged your finger at him as he leapt onto you unexpectedly.

“Never! Never, baby, I swear.” He planted grateful kisses up and down your body as you indulged in a reluctant smile. “It’s only you. You are the only one for me. Now and for the rest of my life.” 

You could tell by his adoring gaze that he meant every word. Wrapping your arms around him, you settled into a healing embrace. He was allowed to make one mistake, you loved him enough to let it slide. And if resentment ever crept up on you, you could always fondly recall that drunken night with Agent Morgan. Who said married couples weren’t allowed a few secrets?

[shaisuki]

Can you please do Reo's reaction to pregnant y/n's death?

❝ REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD. ❞

$ FEATURING. YANDERE! HUSBAND MIKAGE REO

CONTENT WARNINGS. character death + complications of birth and pregnancy + blood + suicide + talks about killing a child. dead dove not eat.

SYNOPSIS. you got the best revenge you can ever serve to him.

everything was a blur.

from the moment your water broke and the contractions coming apart since you insisted on walking around the hospital. a week from your due date and the baby is coming.

you were instantly whisked and prepped up for your birth. nurses and doctors surrounding you and you were like the fucking vip and treated like you were about to give birth to a king. it could pass as well. since you were going to be the mother of the mikage heir.

reo arrives within the first minute of your contractions. dressed in a medical gown and he's by your side. holding your hand and whispering sweet nothings to you. encouraging that you were both to have a baby and it will be done in the next minutes.

fucking asshole. he's babbling. this is how reo gets when he's happy. excited that you were about to give birth to his child and you wondered if this was really his intention to you in the first place. popping his heirs like they were easy to come by. he should have hired woman who were willing to be a surrogate or someone whose more than willing to give his wants and demands.

unfortunately for you. reo wants you and he wants he gets it.

the pain was blinding. your muscles screaming for you to rest. your eyes who can't stop the tears from flowing from how painful it was. the doctors encouraged you to push. the baby is crowning and you need to get it out. you muster what strength is left in you and with that flashes of light dances in your vision and your ears ringing.

it took a you a few seconds to register the cheers of the doctors and your baby's cries echoing in the room.

it's alive?

the baby's alive?

this couldn't be happening. the chances are high of you losing the baby so then why this damned child of yours have to live. does they want to suffer the same fate as you? why are you having this thoughts you were sure you were to suffer.

you make out reo's smile despite the harshness of the light in the room. he's all smile. you barely can make out the words he's spouting but you feel his hands on you. your head hitting the pillows once again.

this is it. he's finally a father. you gave him a son. a heir. he couldn't be more prouder than what he is feeling right now. he have a family he can call his own. he can continue his legacy.

he looks at you proudly. kissing you like there's no tomorrow but why are you frowning? aren't you happy that you're a mother now? what are you sad? why are you turning pale?

the machine beeps in a hurried manner. mimicking your heartbeat and the doctors surrounding you are in full attention. sweat drips in their forehead at the sudden beep of the machine. eyes wide at the sudden symptoms of one of the complications of birth they didn't think would happen. you were bleeding. soaking the sheets in a heavy flow that the doctors were almost shouting at the nurses to prepare the equipment to aid you.

what was happening to you?

suddenly you were aware of what's about to happen to you. your body aches more than usual. muscles turning weaker and your eyelids felt heavy. you can hear them. desperately trying to save you but you were beyond saving. it looks like your prayers were heard.

you would relish on the expression reo was having. horrified at the sight that his wife is dying on this table. you deserve it. you ruined my life and i will ruin yours.

reo sees you trying to grab him and he takes your hand in his. a smile plastered on your face and you pull reo with your remaining strength and then you began to whisper. the words that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

“this is your karma, reo.” his eyes widens at your confession. “you're going to lose me and i-i feel bad for our child, he didn't die with me instead he won't grow up without his mother and he would have a father like you.”

and with that, the futile attempts of the doctor came to stop when your heartbeat turned into a flatline in the monitor and you closed your eyes. forever.

it's finished now. you were gone. he drops your cold hand. the image of your laying in the table with your cold, lifeless body will continue to replay for the rest of his life. this should not be happening. he wants to scream to the doctors attending to you why such tragedy happened. to himself. you were supposed to be alive. raising his child with you.

he left the room shortly after you were pronounced dead. walking aimlessly at the hospital and his sight caught in the corner of his eyes are nurses tending to his newborn child.

he couldn't bear to look at his child for a second longer and that's how you get your revenge on him for the hell he put you through.

[emmylksblog]

SOOTHING EMBRACE // H.FORT

request: can u write hector comforting sick reader?? (if u want)

genre: comfort, fluff

warnings: none

words: 1456

a/n: i hope having your period counts as sick because it does to me, cramps hurt like a bitch 👹

Hector stepped into the house, his heart beating from the excitement of the game. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were sparkling with adrenaline.

He had scored the winning goal, and that alone made his day. But his thoughts quickly turned to you. He couldn't wait to see your reaction to the news, to hear your words of excitement, and see your face light up.

"I'm home baby!" He called out, dropping his duffle bag on the floor and looking around for you. He could practically hear your response in his head already - the way you'd jump up from the couch, rush over to him with a huge smile on your face. He couldn't help but smile himself at the thought.

He frowned at the lack of response, noticing the silent atmosphere of the house. Hector's excitement started to dim slightly, replaced by worry. He called out your name, walking into the living room, his footsteps soft against the hardwood floor.

When he saw you curled up on the couch, he immediately knew something was wrong.

He knelt beside the couch, his hand gently touching your shoulder, "Hey cariño, what's going on? Are you okay?" He asked, his voice filled with concern. Hector's eyes scanned your face, taking in every tiny detail. He could tell that you were in pain, and he wanted nothing more than to soothe it away.

Your expression contorted into a grimace, and you let out a soft whimper. Hector felt a pang in his chest at the sound. He knew exactly what was going on. He had seen you like this before, and it broke his heart every time. He reached out to brush a strand of hair away from your forehead.

Hector couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He had checked the app on his phone earlier that day, knowing that your period was due soon. He had been planning to go out and buy some of your favourite snacks and maybe some painkillers to help ease your discomfort.

But it seemed like he had underestimated the power of your monthly cycle. He let out a small sigh, silently cursing himself for not being more prepared.

You could sense the change in his mood. You knew that Hector must have felt so excited after the game, but your current condition prevented you from matching his enthusiasm. However, even in your state, you still wanted to show him some support.

You mustered the strength to sit up a little and open your arms towards Hector, a faint smile on your lips. "Did you really think I'd miss your match? I watched you play, and I couldn't be prouder of you," you said, your voice laced with a mixture of affection and regret. "I'm sorry I can't celebrate with you right now."

You pulled him closer and pressed a soft kiss onto his lips, the pain momentarily forgotten. "But if you're free tomorrow, maybe we can do something special to make up for it."

Hector's face softened as he listened to your words, his heart warming at your support and understanding. Even in your current condition, you still thought of him and wanted to celebrate his victory. Hector couldn't help but smile, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him.

He leaned into your touch, his hands finding your waist as he rested his forehead against yours. "Of course I'm free tomorrow," he said, his voice low and warm. "We'll do something special, I promise. You just focus on resting now."

He leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss against your forehead, his fingers lightly tracing your hip in a soothing gesture. "You don't need to worry about anything, cariño. Just let me take care of you."

He pulled back slightly, a thought suddenly crossing his mind. "Wait here," he said, his eyes flickering with determination.

Hector then got up from the couch and moved towards the kitchen, leaving you sitting there feeling slightly confused and curious. You could hear him rummaging through the cabinets, the sound of bowls and spoons clinking together. After a few moments, he returned with a steaming mug in his hand and a small plate filled with chocolate chip cookies.

"I know these are your favourite," he said, his voice soft as he placed the items down on the coffee table in front of you. He then went back to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. "And these will help with the pain," he added, holding them out for you to take.

You couldn't help but feel a warm glow in your chest at his thoughtfulness. Even though his excitement about the game had been dampened by your pain, he was still looking out for you and taking care of you. You took the water and the painkillers with a grateful smile, feeling the love and care that Hector was showing you.

Your eyes began to well up with tears, a mix of emotions swelling within you. Part of you wanted to blame it on the usual mood swings that came with your period, but a bigger part of you knew that it was because of him. Hector was so sweet and thoughtful, always taking care of you, even in your most vulnerable moments.

You fought back the tears, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love for him. "You're so good to me," you choked out, your voice cracking slightly.

Hector chuckled at your state, his eyes dancing with mischief. He was about to open his mouth to tease you, but before he could say anything, you swatted him lightly in the chest.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, a hint of amusement still in his voice. "You're just so adorable, baby."

You hid your face in his chest, feeling embarrassed by your current state. "It's embarrassing enough as it is, don't make it worse," you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shirt.

Hector chuckled again, unable to resist leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about this. Our secret," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer into him. "You know I love you, right?"

You felt his hands gently rubbing your back, offering you comfort and reassurance.

You looked up from your hiding place in his chest, your eyes meeting his. "I know," you mumbled, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I love you too, Hector."

You buried your face in his chest once again, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. His presence alone was enough to soothe your pain and make you feel loved and cared for.

The dull ache in your abdomen seemed to intensify suddenly, causing you to grimace and let out a low grunt of pain. Hector, being as attentive as ever, immediately noticed your discomfort.

"Does it hurt more baby?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

Hector quickly devised a solution. He shifted you so that you were sitting between his legs, your back against his chest. He then placed his hands on your abdomen, applying gentle but firm pressure.

You could feel his fingers working their magic, massaging your stomach in small, circular motions. The pressure was just the right amount, enough to ease the pain and give you some relief.

As he continued to massage you, you leaned back against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

You placed your own hands on top of his. You intertwine your fingers together, lightly caressing his knuckles as a sign of thanks.

You then turn your head, facing him to the side, and gently press a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "You always know how to make it better."

Hector smiles at your gesture of gratitude, his heart swelling with affection.

"Anything for you, baby," he replies, his voice low and gentle.

He tightens his arms around you, pulling you into a comfortable embrace. He plants a few light kisses on your neck, his lips moving against your skin in a soothing manner.

As he massages you, he can’t help but nuzzle his face into your hair, inhaling your scent and relishing the closeness.

Your free hand reaches out, gently touching his face. You run your fingertips over his features, tracing the lines of his cheekbones and the curve of his jaw.

He leans into your touch, his eyes closed and a soft smile on his lips. He turns his head slightly, pressing his lips to the palm of your hand in a soft kiss.

"Estoy aquí, para ti." (i'm here for you)

[janiehellion]

𝐓𝐫𝛐𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 ⋮ 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔩 𝔇𝔦𝔵𝔬𝔫

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Daryl Dixon knew better than to challenge you, yet the thrill of breaking the rules was too tempting to resist. He let you play your game—by his own rules—because certain forbidden lessons in trouble were just meant to be learned.

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Smut ⋮ Blowjob ⋮ Cunnilingus ⋮ Teasing ⋮ Rough Sex ⋮ Taboo

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 5.350 𝑺𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈: Teacher AU 𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Fem!Student!Reader

𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚: @mikes-babygirl

𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ⋮ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑮𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔

You walked into the room, already preparing yourself for another boring day at college. It wasn’t that you hated college exactly—it was just more of the same, day after day. You threw your bag next to your desk and sat down in your seat, scrolling through your phone while the other college students started to get ready for class.

But then you looked over to the door.

Of all people to be teaching today—it was him. Mr. Dixon. Just your luck. You’d always had a problem with this guy. Sure, he was good-looking—annoyingly good-looking, actually—but that just made it worse. Someone that hot shouldn’t have the right to be such a pain in the ass. And the constant lecturing like he knew everything? He had that whole "I’m smarter than you!" attitude, and it drove you crazy.

He hadn’t done anything yet, but just the sight of him was enough to piss you off.

And as soon as he started the lesson, talking and gesturing around, you immediately zoned out.

It just didn’t matter.

You were more focused on how he stood there, acting like he had everything under control and looking all arrogant. You hated that. And there was no way you were just going to sit through this class quietly.

So you raised your hand slowly.

"Yeah?" Mr. Dixon turned to you, raising an eyebrow in that way that made you want to punch his face.

You shrugged, leaning back casually. "Just wondering... what’s the point of all this? I mean, history? It’s not like we need this for our major. This has nothing to do with what we're actually studying."

He looked irritated but kept his cool. Of course he did. "It’s 'bout understandin' why the world works the way it does—no matter what field you’re in."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, right. Like learning this bullshit is gonna pay my bills."

A few students laughed, but Mr. Dixon's expression didn’t change. "The point of learning history is to understand how people like ya keep makin' the same mistakes—and why they're still broke."

"Sounds like a waste of time," you muttered loud enough for him to hear.

He paused, staring at you for a moment longer than necessary, so you leaned forward, looking into his eyes as if daring him to say something else. He wouldn’t. He knew better.

Daryl sighed loudly and continued with the lesson, but you weren’t done. Throughout the class, you kept at it—making comments or sighing dramatically in annoyance every time he explained something.

At one point, you put your feet up on the desk, pushing your chair back lazily. "Seriously, Dixon, can we speed this up? Some of us have better things to do."

His eyes looked toward your legs, then back to your face, but he didn’t say anything. He was trying hard to keep his cool.

With a yawn, you stretched your arms over your head, and as time went on, you decided to continue.

"So, Dixon," you said loudly, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Ever thought about getting a real job instead of just playing teacher?"

This time, he paused. Really paused.

You knew you’d provoke him eventually, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to react.

But instead, he just gave you a small, almost unnoticeable smirk. "Careful, ya might just find out I’m more qualified than ya think."

Your heart skipped a beat. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

In one way or another, you spent the rest of class barely paying attention, since something about that smirk he gave you before had pissed you off more than usual.

As soon as the bell for the break rang, you waited near the classroom door, pretending to chat with a few friends until he left the room as well. Once the hallway was empty and everyone was out of sight, you slipped back in.

First, you walked up to his desk, staring at the pile of papers he's left there. It was all so organized, so... proper. You hated it. With one quick move, you knocked the papers to the floor, scattering them all over the place.

Your eyes then landed on his bag on the chair behind the front desk. Without thinking twice, you grabbed it and looked through it. There were a few personal items still inside—a notebook, some other papers, and a lighter.

"A smoker, huh?"

You then looked through the notebook. There were random notes, lesson plans, and other things you didn’t even care about, but something about it being his made you want to ruin it. Without hesitating, you ripped out the pages, tearing them apart.

"Not enough..."

You grabbed the lighter, turning it on, before you held it to some of the torn-out pages, watching it burn for a few more seconds before dropping it onto the pile of papers on the floor, while making sure the windows were open to avoid triggering the smoke alarm.

Anything to piss him off.

And just as you were about to leave, your eyes landed on his coffee mug, which he's left behind. That stupid mug he always carried around. Without thinking twice, you grabbed it, throwing it against the wall, and before anyone could catch you, you slipped back out of the room, blending in with the crowd of other college students outside, acting like nothing had happened.

Soon, the break was almost over, but the classroom was still empty. Mr. Dixon walked in first, and the second he saw the mess, his eyes widened—papers torn and burned, the broken coffee mug on the floor... He didn’t say anything; he just stood there, taking it all in.

"Ugh… Really?" He mumbled to himself. "Yer testing me, huh? Alright then."

He walked around the room slowly, closing the open windows and getting rid of the chaos you'd left behind.

"Ya want my attention?" He said quietly, almost like he was talking to you even though you weren’t there. "Ya sure as hell got it."

He should’ve been pissed, but there was something that made him more curious than angry.

Now, he quickly straightened up as he heard footsteps approaching from the hallway. He watched the door, waiting for you to walk back in, knowing full well what you’d done.

The college students soon began walking back into the room, and you were one of the last to come in, casually late, throwing yourself into your chair while your eyes looked to Mr. Dixon, standing at the front, but... with no hint of anger.

His eyes soon met yours for a second—just long enough to make your heart race—but then he looked away again.

"Alright," he began, "we’re gonna continue with something different now."

He walked to the front of his desk, grabbing a stack of books he'd brought with him to the classroom—Divided Loyalties. He held one up, flipping through the pages and then passing them out. As you grabbed your copy, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. American Revolution? Really?

"This play's 'bout a family torn apart by their opposing views," he explained, walking slowly in front of the board. "Patriots, loyalists, people choosing sides. The family in this play has to decide where their loyalty lies—what side of history they wanna be on. Some of 'em follow, others... they go with what’s expected. Either way, their choices split 'em apart."

He didn’t say it outright, but you felt it. He picked this damn play on purpose.

You tapped your fingers on your copy of the book, half-listening to him, half-lost in your thoughts. It was like he was waiting for you to make a move. But what move exactly?

"The point of this," he said, moving around again, "is that sometimes we get pulled in two directions. Loyalties get tested. But what matters is whether or not ya own yer choices."

That last line felt like it was meant just for you. There it was again—that feeling. Unspoken, electric. Like you both knew exactly what was happening between the two of you, but neither of you wanted to admit it.

He stepped away, continuing with his explanation about the play.

"Ya know," he continued, leaning back against his desk, arms crossed again. "A lotta people thought on either side they were just troublemakers. Pissin' off each other, causin' problems... all 'cause they couldn’t keep their mouths shut." His eyes looked to yours again, almost like a challenge.

You bit your lip, trying to focus on the book, but his voice, his presence—it was all too distracting somehow. He knew exactly what he was doing. And it was working.

One of the students sitting a couple of rows over raised their hand. "Mr. Dixon, did you ever have to deal with that? Like, divided loyalties? You seem like you know what that feels like."

He paused, smirking a bit, but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he was looking almost amused. "What makes ya say that?"

The student shrugged. "I dunno, just the way you talk about it. It’s like you’ve been through some stuff and things yourself."

"Let’s just say I’ve seen my share of... divided loyalties." He glanced at the board. "But that ain't the point of the lesson."

Another student chimed in. "What did you do before teaching, anyway? You weren’t always here. You don’t seem like... a regular teacher."

He laughed, shaking his head slightly. "That’s because I’m not. Jus' a substitute, fillin' in until I finish my graduate program. I’m workin' toward my Master’s in Education. Right now, I'm here until the regular prof returns. Ya don’t have to worry; I ain't stickin' 'round forever."

Your curiosity was growing, though you’d never admit it. He didn’t fit the type of a normal professor at all, and now it was obvious why. He wasn’t one. Well… Not really.

"Now, back to the lesson," he continued. "Troublemakers…" He said the word slowly, like he was testing it out. "Sometimes, trouble’s what shakes things up. Forces people to finally pay attention."

Your heart was racing faster and faster. He was toying with you, and you knew it. He was playing a game, and you hated how much it was getting under your skin. But part of you... part of you liked it. The push, the pull, the challenge between the two of you. He wasn’t like the other teachers who'd have scolded you by now. No, he was letting you come at him, daring you to make your next move and to fuck up.

And you couldn’t help but play along.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms with a bored look on your face. "It's just another pointless play to rot our brains with bullshit that we don't even need for our future."

He gave you a quick glare, but he was still rather unimpressed with your attitude. "If ya think it’s pointless, maybe ya ain't puttin' enough effort into understanding it."

"Effort?" You snorted and smirked. "The only effort I see is you trying to make us suffer with bullshit no one even gives a fuck about."

He narrowed his eyes at you, but he was still in control. "Perhaps if ya paid more attention, ya’d understand why this bullshit is still relevant."

"Relevant? Don’t make me shit myself," you snapped back, now leaning forward to rest your elbows on your desk.

The room was quiet, all eyes looking between you and Mr. Dixon, but no one else dared to say anything.

Daryl sighed, clearly fed up somewhere deep inside. "That’s quite a way to talk to a teacher."

"Yeah? But you aren't a real teacher, nor will you ever become a professor, so what are you going to do about it?" You shot back. "Get me suspended? From college? As if any prof would even do that! Or how about you give me detention? Oh wait, you’re already doing that with your shitty lessons."

He stepped closer to you, smirking as well. "Watch ya damn mouth an' shut it."

"Or what?" You taunted. "Are you going to make me?"

His eyes were burning into yours, and for a moment, it felt like there was something else there in them—something else than simple irritation and annoyance.

"Is that what ya want?" He asked, putting his hands into his pockets. "For me to give ya what yer askin' for?"

"Oh, please! Like that’s going to make any difference!" You laughed back at him, waving one hand in dismissal.

"Yer testing my patience," he answered, his voice still calm. "And yer 'bout to find out how far I’m willin' to go to get ya suspended, if that's what ya really want. Or maybe expelled. Even if this is college."

The room was dead silent, the other students watching with wide eyes and whispering to each other. But you didn’t care.

"Expelled, huh? Those are some serious words for someone who’s barely even qualified to be teaching," you smiled.

Daryl didn't respond immediately; he just stared at you with that still calm expression. Like he was holding back.

Finally, he took a step back. "Ya think this is a joke?"

You shrugged, yawning and smirking at him. "Well, I’m not exactly learning anything here, so yeah, it really is kinda funny."

But the smirk on your face faded the second he slammed his hands down loudly on your desk, making you jump.

"Enough!" He said, his voice only a growl.

You opened your mouth to snap back once more, but he cut you off before you could even speak.

"Detention," he continued. "After school. We’ll see how ya will act when there’s no one else 'round to laugh.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back, trying to seem unimpressed. "Fine. But I’m not scared of you, Dixon."

He walked back to the front desk, giving you one final look. "Ya will be."

The bell rang soon enough, and everyone else went to walk out of the room. You stood up slowly as well, watching Daryl write notes down on a paper at his desk like nothing had happened.

But that last glare? That look in his eyes? You couldn't think about anything else as the hours passed.

And now you had detention with him. Alone.

Detention had seemed more appealing than getting suspended or expelled, of course, especially from college by a substitute teacher who still didn't graduate himself yet, but it wasn’t exactly what you’d hoped for in one way or another. Mr. Dixon had made it clear you’d be staying after the lessons, and now here you were, sitting at the front of the room, waiting for him to show up.

The minutes ticked by until Mr. Dixon walked in, his face looking as neutral as ever.

"Well, well, well," he started as he stood near the door, closing it slowly. "I didn't think I'd actually be seein' ya here." He crossed his arms over his chest. "But here we are."

"Guess I just wanted to make it all a little more exciting for myself," you shot back.

He stepped closer, not invading your personal space but close enough. "Excitin', huh? Or just plain stupid?"

"Depends on who you ask," you replied, crossing your arms. "What’s next, more boring lectures? Another dumb play?"

"Maybe... or maybe I’ll find another way to keep your attention," he said, taking another step closer.

You smirked, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, right. As if you could keep me interested. You don’t scare me, Dixon; I've said it before, and I'll always say it again. Why? Wanna try me? I dare you to try."

Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, the move sending adrenaline straight through your body in an instant. "Careful what ya wish for."

His eyes moved down to your lips, and for a short moment, you thought he might actually kiss you. But as fast as that thought came into your mind, you quickly pushed it away again.

"Maybe ya wanna find out how far I’ll go to teach ya a lesson," he challenged, his breath smelling like cigarettes.

"Maybe I do," you replied. "Or maybe I don't."

He let go of your wrist and walked back to the front desk, but the distance between you still felt nonexistent.

"And I don't care," he answered, setting the book from all those hours before down on the desk. "Yer going to reread Divided Loyalties again. I want ya to pay close attention this time. Maybe ya will finally learn, or at least shut up."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. "Like learning how to deal with your bullshit?"

He ignored the comment. "Start readin'. I’ll be gradin' some papers in the meantime."

You shrugged, picking up the book. But as you looked through the pages, an idea started forming in your mind. If Mr. Dixon wanted you to take this seriously, you were going to make it interesting—by your own rules.

You looked over at him, already busy with his grading. Perfect. You began to read aloud, but not in the way he might have hoped, interpreting the text in your own way and playing around with the words.

"Forsooth, thou hast a long and sturdy lance," you read, your voice now louder on purpose. "I’d wager it could penetrate any barrier with ease."

His head moved up and his eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing, choosing to let you continue.

You pressed on as you read. "Verily, thy bedchamber is most inviting. I am most eager to partake in its pleasures."

You leaned back in your chair, watching him closely as you continued. "Our loyalty lies not just in our words, but in the way we... entertain each other behind closed doors."

His eyes looked at you again, and you could see the struggle on his face to keep his calm. It was clear you were getting under his skin, and you loved it.

You let out a rather quiet laugh, closing the book and stretching yourself. "You know, Mr. Dixon, I think I’m starting to understand the ‘divided loyalties’ part. Sometimes, it’s hard to stay loyal to something when there are so many... distractions."

Daryl raised an eyebrow with a small yet almost unnoticable smirk. "Okay, enough," he said. "Let me tell ya somethin'. In this room, I'm in charge. Ya will do as I say as long as I am yer teacher."

"Fine," you answered him through clenched teeth, glaring at him. "But let me tell you something as well, Dixon. In this room, I'm not going to just sit here and do shit! And I want something in return. Deal?"

Daryl leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. "And what exactly would that be?" He asked, his blue eyes looking at you with a frown.

"I want..." Your voice trailed off as you tried to find the right words. "I want... you," you finally said, the words surprising even yourself.

Daryl just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "If ya wanna play that kinda game, then I'll play along. But only if ya agree to my terms."

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart racing in your chest. This just got too real, even for your taste, but what were you expecting? You didn't know. But part of you wanted this as much as you tried to deny it. "Wait… What? What terms exactly? What…"

"First, this stays between us. No one can know about our... arrangement. Second, ya will do whatever I say, both in and outta this room. And third, ya will keep up with yer damn work from now on and calm down with yer shitty behavior."

You nodded slowly, feeling your pulse racing at the thought of what you're about to agree to. "Fine," you answered. "I accept your terms."

Daryl then moved towards you again. "Good," he said, reaching out to cup your chin with his hand. Then it happened. He leaned in closer once more. Your breathing stopped for a moment as his lips brushed against yours, teasing you with a hint of a kiss.

"Dixon," you breathed, half a protest and half a plea. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Shut up," he murmured against your lips before kissing them fully, his hands framing your face.

The kiss was intoxicating—all heat and urgency. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, feeling the world around you fade away while tasting nicotine on your tongue… and you wanted more.

"Yer gonna do everythin' I tell ya to do," he mumbled, his lips brushing lightly against your ear after he broke the kiss. "And if ya disobey me, there will be consequences. But I think ya know that by now, don't ya?"

You gasped as one of his hands moved away from your chin, along the side of your neck, before slipping beneath the collar of your shirt, grabbing it, and pulling you out of the chair toward the front desk.

"Yes," you whispered, feeling yourself already getting wetter with every passing second. "I know and I understand."

Daryl's grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly, and you let out a small moan. "Good," he said, smirking a little. "Now, ya better be gettin' down on yer knees."

You hesitated for just a moment before slowly sinking down onto the floor of the room, watching as Daryl undid the button of his pants. "Take it out," he commanded.

You reached out with trembling hands, fumbling around as you pulled his thick, hard cock out.

"Now, put it in yer mouth," Daryl said. "And don't ya dare bite down on it."

You smirked and leaned forward, wrapping your lips around the head of Daryl's cock and sucking gently while looking up at him. He let out a groan, his fingers holding your head and playing with your hair as he began to guide you and move his hips.

"That's it," he murmured. "Jus' like that. Suck it harder. Show me how much ya wanna be good again."

You obeyed his command, applying more pressure with your lips as you worked your way further down his swelling shaft. His breathing got more uneven, and you could tell just how much he was enjoying this already.

"Yeah, jus' like that," he said breathlessly, his hips beginning to thrust forward a little harder. "Oh fuck, yer so good at this."

You felt yourself getting even more turned on by his words and reached down between your legs, sliding your fingers inside your pants and beneath your panties, stroking gently at your swollen, aching clit.

Daryl must've sensed the change in your behavior because he suddenly pulled away from you, his cock slipping out from between your lips. "That's enough for now."

He reached down, helping you to your feet before leading you over towards the desk at the front of the room. He bent you over it, your tits and stomach pressed against the surface.

"Now, get those pants off and spread yer legs for me," he said. "I wanna see how wet ya are."

You obeyed his command again, parting your legs as wide as they'd go after pulling down your pants and panties. Daryl let out a growl as he took in the sight of your wet pussy, his fingers sliding over your wet folds.

"Oh shit, jus' look at how fuckin' wet ya are," he mumbled. "Ya really wan' it, don't ya? Since when, huh?"

You let out a gasp as Daryl's fingers found your clit. "Who knows?" You moaned quietly. "Maybe I did want you to fuck me all along."

Daryl didn't respond right away; instead, he continued to tease you with his fingers. "Good t'know," he finally said. "First, I wanna taste ya. I wanna feel that sweet lil' pussy against my tongue. But don't ya worry. I promise it'll be worth the risk."

With that, Daryl got onto his knees, with his head between your legs, his tongue moving out to make contact with your swollen, aching clit from behind, licking it and sucking at your folds, his tongue moving slowly on purpose.

"Oh fuck, Dixon," you moaned quietly again, your legs starting to tremble a little. "Right there. Yes..."

"Fuck, ya look so sexy like this," Daryl said and kept licking and sucking before sliding two fingers deep inside to pump them in and out of you a few times. "Ya taste so fuckin' good," he continued. "Could eat ya out all day an' night. But I wanna feel ya cum all over my cock next. Hell, I love how yer pussy looks when 's all wet an' ready for me," he mumbled, sliding his fingers out of you again.

You gasped softly, your hips bucking back, trying to meet his hand and face once more. "Hell, just... I need more," you pleaded, your voice shaking while you tried not to tremble too hard.

"Jus' wanted to make sure that yer wet an' ready for me 'fore I give ya what ya want," he said, gripping and stroking his hard, leaking cock.

"Dixon," you begged with a whimper. "Just fuck me already, okay?"

Daryl smirked, clearly unable to resist your begging any longer. "Alright, sweetheart," he answered, positioning himself between your legs before slowly pushing his cock inside you from behind. "I'm gonna make ya feel so fuckin' good, girl."

You let out a gasp again as his cock pressed up against your dripping wet pussy, tormenting you with the tip for several long moments, then sliding the thick, hard shaft of it back and forth over your wet folds, before he filled you up completely, his thickness stretching your pussy walls deliciously. "Jus' take it. Take every single inch of my cock deep inside ya."

You obliged eagerly, pushing back and pulling him even deeper inside you with each passing thrust, trying not to groan out loud at the feeling of being stretched and stuffed so deeply.

"Oh fuck, ya feel so damn good," he said, his fingers digging into your hips as he started to pound away at your pussy with a little bit more force. "Shit, I could fuck ya all the damn time an' never get tired of it."

"Oh, fuck yes!" You groaned in response as Daryl continued to thrust in and out of you.

As he soon fucked you harder and deeper, you could feel your orgasm building up inside you, threatening you to make you scream out loud.

"I'm so fucking close already," you panted as you held onto the edges of the front desk for dear life. "Please... don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

"Oh shit," you moaned and whimpered as he continued to fuck you. "Harder, please, harder."

And Daryl didn't disappoint you. He fucked you hard, his cock pounding in and out of your pussy in quick, rapid thrusts.

"Ya wanted this, didn't ya?" He growled out. "Ya wanted me to fuck ya like this."

You nodded eagerly. "Yeah, shit, I did… I do!"

"Ain't gonna stop until I've made ya cum all over my cock, sweetheart," he said, increasing the speed, which immediately brought you to the edge like you've never experienced before.

"I'm cumming! Oh fuck, I'm cumming!" You whimpered, your entire body tensing up, and just as you thought, your orgasm exploded through you like a bomb, your pussy clenching around him, gripping his cock as if not wanting to let go. But Daryl didn't stop, even after you've finished.

And just as you were coming down from your orgasm, he suddenly pulled out, his breathing ragged. "I’m 'bout to cum," he groaned, wanting to finish himself off, and started to stroke his cock, ready to let go, but then you acted on instinct. You couldn't just let him finish without you, not like this.

Quickly, you dropped to your knees and took his cock back into your mouth, sucking him hard just as he began to cum, brushing your teeth ever so lightly over the throbbing shaft. Daryl let out a deep moan, surprise and shock written all over his face as he found himself clearly unable to resist.

You sucked his cock hard, moving your tongue around the tip before taking him as deep as you could. His hands immediately found your hair, urging you on, and you responded by increasing the pressure of your lips. "Oh fuck, jus' like that," he groaned, losing himself in the feeling of your mouth.

"Jus' a lil' more," he urged, his voice trembling, but you wanted to draw it out. You picked up your pace, pulling back fast just to tease him before taking him deep into your mouth again. You could feel his cock throb and pulse against your tongue, and you knew he couldn't hold back any longer.

Finally, he lost it. "I can’t—oh fuck!" He tried to keep his groans quiet as he began to cum, his warm load filling your mouth as you swallowed down every drop, refusing to simply let him cum all over you like he'd wanted to.

Once he was finished, you pulled away, but not before licking his shaft from the base to the tip once more and looking up at him with a smirk.

"Shit, ya really are one hell of a distraction," he mumbled, catching his breath and slipping his cock back into his pants with trembling hands.

You stood up, pulling your clothes back on as you caught Daryl’s eye. He suddenly seemed different now—annoyed, maybe? But you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all.

Daryl cleared his throat, straightening up and sitting down on the desk with a serious look on his slightly red face, while also trying to adjust his still half-hard cock in his pants. "This was a one-time thing. Got it?"

"Sure, just a one-time thing, Mr. Dixon," you replied innocently, but you couldn’t resist adding, "I mean, it’s not like I’ll ever forget a one-time lesson like this while having something as ridiculous as detention... but I bet reading Divided Loyalties won't be a one-time thing, isn't that right?"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Yer such a damn troublemaker." Daryl shot back, crossing his arms over his chest as if he could shield himself.

You sat down on the edge of the front desk as well, pushing your luck further. "Maybe I really am. How else could I have gotten you to break the rules?" You bit your lip, watching the way his jaw tightened.

"Ain't 'bout that. Ya really need to get yer shit together, or I’ll have to start disciplinin' ya for real," he warned, but the look in his eyes betrayed him, showing you he was still fighting with the thoughts about what you both just did.

You couldn’t help but laugh all over again, rolling your eyes playfully. "You disciplining me? That’d just make me want to misbehave more. Besides, who would ever believe you? The hot substitute who gives other collegians detention and an extra special lesson? Sounds like something you only find in certain writings, if you ask me. So, don't shit your pants about it."

"This ain't a joke. I may not be a real teacher yet, but I have to follow the damn rules."

"Sure, but isn’t it fun to break the rules once in a while?" You asked to provoke him and leaned in. "Let’s be honest, Dixon. This was way more exciting than any discussion about Divided Loyalties."

His breath hitched, and for a short moment you could see the real man beneath again. But then he straightened up, shoving any emotions aside. "Get outta here. We’re done now."

"Sure… We’ll see about that." You grabbed your bag, trying to hold back a smile as you turned to leave. But just before closing the door, you glanced back over your shoulder at him. "Do not be fooled; I am but a mere troublemaker in thy class, yet my mischief will find thee again—so prepare thyself."

[starmocha]

I don't normally share active wips, but since I mentioned in a previous post how Lost Oasis has a scene similar to one I had written in a wip I've been working on, I've decided to share it. I may scrap it or I may rework it to align more with the canon material.

This wip is basically an intimate (emotional and sexual) Sylus/Reader sexy domestic slice of life fluff, because I have needs. Really bad needs. 🥺👉👈

The scent of your peach body wash had become more familiar each night, the sweet fragrance clung to Sylus’ body after every shower when he would climb into bed with you. Your hands traversed his bare torso, gliding over smooth skin as you furrowed your brows. “Like what you see?” he teased, but when you didn’t react, Sylus reached out, lifting your chin to meet his concerned gaze. “What’s wrong?” “You don’t have any scars,” you murmured, your hands still skimming over his body in examination. “You sound disappointed,” Sylus quipped with a deep chuckle, but he paused almost immediately when you looked up, staring at him with a worried expression. He was quiet briefly before speaking more seriously, “A benefit of my Evol, if you will.” “Then…how many times have you been injured?” “Does it matter?” he looked at you with a gentle smile, reaching out to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. You appreciated the affectionate gesture, but it didn’t mask the fact that he was pointedly ignoring your question. You nodded firmly, refusing to let this conversation end. Sylus looked conflicted. “It’s a good thing you can’t see any scars,” he insisted. You touched his bicep. “Were you injured here?” He sighed, and nodded. “Yes.” You looked frantically around his body before your hand randomly touched his right shoulder. “Here?” “Yes.” Your mind continued to race with increasing anxious thoughts. You touched his thigh. Sylus nodded. You reached up and touched his chest, your hand near his heart. You paused, your face paling, already knowing the answer to this one. It had all happened so quickly, and even now you could still feel your finger pulling that trigger. Sylus grabbed your wrist, pulling away. “Don’t think about it,” he said firmly, “I did it.” “But…” His hands held your face, pulling you to him, capturing your lips to swallow your words. You felt like you were choking, his kisses suffocating you as your mind was in turmoil from both the guilt of what you did and the painful knowledge of never knowing how often he was injured or how severe they were. Sylus broke the kiss when he felt you sobbing against him. He looked at you with concern, not understanding what had led the two of you to this point. Instinctively, he pulled you into his lap, surprised when you lay against him almost instantly, your arms wrapped around his body, cheek pressed against his chest. He could feel the trembles in your body, knowing you were barely keeping your emotions in check. “I’m not hurt,” he said, fingers already threading through your hair as comfort. “I know,” you whispered back, tightening your hold around him. You could barely keep your voice steady, afraid that just one wrong word could break this dam and unleash all of the tears you were holding back. “But,” he started, peering down at the top of your head, “this is nice.” You looked up curiously, meeting his soft crimson gaze. He leaned down, his warm breath ghosted over your lips, making you shiver even more in his embrace. “Having you worried about me,” he said, elaborating further, “Caring about me.” Sylus drew your lips to his again, this time gentler, more tender. You responded, hearing a pleased hum from him as his hands moved down your body. “Sylus—” He guided your hands back to his body. “I just hate to see you cry over me, sweetheart.” You blinked back your tears. [INSERT EMOTIONAL COMFORT SEX SCENE I HAVEN’T WRITTEN YET LMAO]

[aubvrns]

“Never Not Mine”

| SVU & Headcanons

Synopsis — How would they react to you sulking because they have been ignoring your calls.

Note — Olivia Benson, Alexandra Cabot, Casey Novak, Melinda Warner // inspired by the loveliest, @lxndrlvr !

(Female reader centered, no pronouns used!)

———————————————————————

!!

Olivia Benson

• — Olivia would kneel down beside your bed and press kisses all over your hand, apologizing over and over again until you’d look at her.

• — She was not the most responsible person when it came to her personal cellphone. Everyone, especially the captain knew that. One time, Cragen found her phone on top of the coffee maker overheated.

• — This time, she left her phone in the bathroom. Thankfully, it wasn’t waterboarded.

• — When she realizes you are ignoring her, she would straddle your hips and place kisses all over your face just to get a reaction out of you. And once she does, she embarrassedly explains why she missed your calls.

• — “Casey rang it and found in on top of the toilet seat.” She whispers, “Hehe, sorry.”

• — And to make it up to you, Olivia would give her full attention to you by cuddling while you watch a movie unbearably inseperable from eachother. She would hold you, resting her head on your shoulder.

• — Not long enough, she falls asleep against it and you couldn’t help but laugh. You really needed to by her a phone charm next time.

Alexandra Cabot

• — She would go home with your favorite flowers, chocolates, and even the cardigan you didn’t realize was missing. You didn’t bother being mad anymore, you just shut your eyes and slept.

• — To be fair, it was 12 AM in the morning. And you didn’t have the energy to be mad at her for missing your calls.

• — Alexandra Cabot, the blonde insomniac who rarely sleeps properly, somehow found herself sleeping on her desk for three hours straight. While her phone was flooded of your calls, her back hurt.

• — She would try to call you back, but assumes you have up on waiting for her.

• — Alex would go to the nearest mall that was still surprisingly open and buy you the things that you like. Tell me why the woman bought a massager as well.

• — “I certainly deserve the back pain for sleeping in my office.” Alex says as you knead her back gently, bringing ease to her body.

• — She would hug you tightly, inhaling your comforting scent in the crook of your neck as she tells you why she missed your calls. She knew you were listening because she would tickle your sides and you would squirm everytime.

Casey Novak

• — Casey would open the door slowly to your room, smiling awkwardly as you ask why she hasn’t been picking up your calls. She could only smile, her cute dimples popping out.

• — She had left her charger at home with her phone running at thirty percent for the whole day. She tried to borrow one from Elliot, but he said he accidentally broke it trying to contemplate his anger.

• — So, it was a whole day of her praying to God that you did not call her out of your worry. Unfortunately, you did. About a million times.

• — She would distract you by huskily whispering compliments in your ear as you lean in her hug, a displeased but smiling expression lies on your face.

• — Casey would cradle you and you would just stay still, letting her do whatever the hell she wants with you. You were glad that she was home, and all that matters is that she is safe.

• — But you playfully roll your eyes as she jokingly starts to sing you a lullaby and coaxing you down on the bed as if you were a newborn baby.

• — “So, I forgot my charger. 😁”

Melinda Warner

• — Melinda would go home to you sleeping peacefully in your bed. She smiles to herself, adjusting your blanket further up your neck.

• — She got cozy. Changing her clothes, unpacking her work bag, and eventually joining you between the sheets.

• — Melinda wasn’t that sleepy yet, so she checks her phone for the first time today. She was confused why she didn’t have any notifications. Turns out, her phone was on do-not-disturb the whole time.

• — When she turns it off, your missed call notifications came flooding her phone to the point you were awaken by the sound of endless chiming. She was in shock, completely unaware that you’ve been calling her.

• — “I’m sorry, darling. I must’ve clicked DND on accident, I didn’t mean to miss your—”

• — You interrupted her by hugging her tiredly, just resting in her embrace. She closes her mouth, playing with your hair to bring you consolation for being alone without any updates.

• — She grins warmly, her eyes observing your peaceful features resting. Melinda met her own weary too, she has alot of making up to do in the morning.

!!

[sidekick-hero]

I think I love you, still

Written for day 1 of @steddieangstyaugust, second chances. Title is from "Still" by AVEC.

Tags: modern au, exes to lovers, steddie dads, getting back together

words: 2.8k | AO3 | rated teen

"Steve, come on." Robin's eyes bore into him, the frustration palpable. Steve knows that look, knows it means he's missing something, but he can't quite figure out what.

"It's just, Liz was nice, okay? We had a nice time." Even as he says it, he knows it's a weak argument. The word 'nice' feels hollow, a placeholder for something he can't quite define.

Robin rolls her eyes. "Steve, 'nice' is what you call a weather forecast, not a date. If you were really into her, you'd have more to say."

"She laughed at my jokes, she looked pretty, she smelled nice—"

"But did you feel anything? Sparks? Butterflies? Anything more than just... niceness?" Robin interrupts, her voice softer now, more concerned than frustrated.

Steve opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He's always been good at charming his way through dates, but there's been an emptiness lately, a disconnect he can't quite explain.

Robin sighs, her expression softening. "Steve, you deserve more than just 'nice'. You deserve someone who makes you feel alive."

Steve glances away, feeling a pang of discomfort. He doesn't want to admit it, but Robin's words hit home. The hollow feeling he's been carrying around, the absence of excitement and genuine connection, has been gnawing at him. He knows she's right, but the thought of confronting it feels too overwhelming. Before he can dwell on it, he decides to change the subject. "I’m picking up Lily from Eddie’s later. You wanna come over and watch a movie tonight?”

Robin raises an eyebrow but plays along. "Would love to, but Vickie and I are going on a date. She’s finally got a night off at work and I plan on making the most of it.”

Steve waggles his eyebrows. “Someone’s getting laid tonight.”

“God, I really hope so. A girl has needs, Steve. Needs.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Steve laughs. “I’ll tell my daughter that her auntie Robbie prefers her girlfriend over her goddaughter. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

Robin half laughs, half groans. “Oh my God, don’t say it like that. You know I love spending time with Lily, it’s just…”

“Robs, I was joking. I know you do. I’m happy for you and Vickie. Go out, have a great night with the love of your life. Lily and I won’t run away.”

Robin nudges his shoulder with hers, her smile warm but tinged with concern. “Thanks, Steve. You know, you deserve that kind of happiness too.”

Steve's smile falters slightly, his eyes flickering away. “Yeah, well...”

“Steve,” Robin says softly, “you don’t have to pretend with me. I know you’re still hurting.”

He lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple, Robs. I can’t just… move on. Not when I see Eddie all the time because of Lily.”

Robin’s gaze softens even more, and she places a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to move on, but you do need to face how you feel. Avoiding it isn’t helping anyone, least of all you.”

He looks at her, his eyes big and pleading. Why is it still so hard, even after all these months? “I don’t know what you want me to say. That I still love him? That every time I see him, it feels like someone’s twisting a knife in my chest? Because it does, okay? But that doesn’t change anything.”

“Oh Steve” Robin says, voice full of the same pain he’s feeling. He knows how much it’s hurting her to see him in pain, that’s why he’s been trying to hide it from her. “Maybe it doesn’t change what happened, but it could change what happens next. You and Eddie were great together. And from what I hear, he’s been just as lost without you.”

Steve blinks, surprised. “What do you mean?”

Robin takes a deep breath, deciding to take the plunge. “Eddie… he’s been different since you two broke up. Chrissy said he’s been distant, not just with you but with everyone. I think he’s hurting just as much as you are.”

Steve’s heart aches at the thought of Eddie in pain. “Then why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he try to fix things?”

It's true, it was Steve who said those last words: Maybe we should break up. He hadn't said it because he didn't love Eddie anymore. But they fought all the time, about everything. When they first started dating, things had been so much easier. They never had big fights, just little things that would be fixed in no time before they had great make-up sex.

All that changed when they adopted Lily. He could never, not for one second, regret the miracle that was their little girl. But she showed them in bright technicolor all the things that weren't working between them.

Suddenly, money became a real problem. So did their jobs and hobbies, and the way Eddie could never clean up after himself, and Steve's tendency to become a mother hen and a control freak, with his anxiety making him moody and bitchy.

Breaking up had seemed like the most logical step, and when Steve had suggested it, Eddie had just hung his head and said, "Maybe you're right. Lily shouldn't grow up with her dads fighting all the time."

And that was it. They separated. There was no yelling, no slammed doors, no broken dishes. Just silence, devastating and final in a way that no fight between them had ever been.

"Maybe he thought you would be better off without him. Or maybe he's just as scared as you are," Robin suggests gently, pulling Steve out of his thoughts. "Look, all I'm saying is maybe tonight could be a chance for the two of you to talk. Really talk."

Steve shakes his head, conflicted. "I don't know if I can, Robs. What if it just makes things worse?"

Robin squeezes his arm reassuringly. "Or what if it makes things better? You won't know until you try. And you both deserve to be happy, together or apart. But you have to give yourselves the chance to find out. It's been two years, Steve. Don't you think the fact that you're still in love with him means something?"

"I think it means I'm really bad at moving on and letting things go. Look how long it took me to get over Nance."

"It's not the same and you know it. You and Eddie... I've never seen you look as happy as when you were with him. And I know you two ended things for a reason, but Chrissy told me that Eddie has gotten really good at the whole adult thing, y'know. And he takes good care of Lilly. Even toddler-proofed the recording studio so he could take her with him."

The thought makes him smile. He didn't know that, but it makes a warm feeling spread in his chest.

Steve exhales, the weight of her words settling heavily on his shoulders. "All right, I'll think about it. But no promises."

Robin gives him an encouraging smile. "That's all I'm asking. Just... be honest with yourself, Steve. And with Eddie."

Steve nods, feeling a mixture of dread and anticipation. As he leaves to pick up Lily, Robin's words echo in his head. Should he be honest with Eddie? Tell him how much he misses waking up with Eddie's curls tickling his face, his warm body pressed against his own. Open up and admit how he still falls asleep on the couch wrapped in Eddie's Metallica hoodie? Explain to Eddie why the days they trade Lily are both the best and worst days of his week?

As he drives to Eddie's, memories flood his mind-their first date, the day they adopted Lily, the laughter, the love, the heartache. He's scared, but underneath the fear is a glimmer of hope. Robin said that Eddie might miss him, too. That he has grown. And Steve thinks maybe they both have. Because Steve realizes that he, too, has changed, has settled into his responsibilities as Lily's dad.

Maybe he'll ask Eddie to join him and Lily for their movie night, and then they can put her to bed together like they did when they first had her. Before everything blew up in their faces. And then, if things go well, he could open a bottle of wine for them and they could talk.

When he arrives at Eddie's apartment building, Steve has made up his mind, his heart beating faster at the thought that maybe, just maybe, they might get a second chance.

He knocks on the door with an almost giddy smile on his face, which only grows when the door is flung wide open before he's even finished knocking.

Lily jumps into his arms and Eddie steps into the door with a smile. They exchange a few words about Lily's visit with her dad, the usual polite conversation that feels painfully superficial to Steve. He can see the exhaustion in Eddie's eyes, the way his smile doesn't quite reach them, and it only makes his heart ache more.

Summoning his courage, Steve takes a deep breath. "Hey, I was wondering if you'd like to join Lily and me for a movie night tonight? Just like old times."

Eddie hesitates, and for a brief moment, Steve's heart lifts with hope. But then Eddie glances away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh, I'd love to, Steve, but I actually have a date tonight."

The words hit Steve like a punch to the gut. He struggles to keep his composure, forcing a smile that feels like it's cracking his face. "Oh, that's great. I hope you have a good time."

"Thanks," Eddie replies, his gaze softening with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Steve nods quickly, not trusting his voice to hold steady if he says more. "Yeah, of course. No worries. I just thought it would be nice. Anyway, have fun."

Eddie's eyes linger on Steve, as if searching for something unsaid, but he doesn't press further. Steve feels the weight of those eyes on his back as he turns to leave, Lily clutching his hand tightly. He tries to act normal, to hide the turmoil churning inside him, but every step away from Eddie's door feels like a step deeper into his own loneliness.

As they walk to the car, Lily chatters about her day, her innocent excitement a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Steve's heart. He listens, nodding and smiling at the right moments, but his mind is elsewhere, replaying the scene over and over.

When they finally reach the car, Steve lifts Lily into her seat and buckles her in, his hands trembling slightly. He takes a moment to compose himself before getting into the driver's seat, glancing at his daughter in the rearview mirror. Her wide, curious eyes meet his, and he forces another smile.

"Ready to go home, kiddo?" he asks, his voice strained but steady.

Lily nods enthusiastically, and as they drive away from Eddie's apartment, Steve's thoughts drift back to Robin's advice. Maybe he should be honest with Eddie, but tonight isn't the night. Tonight, he needs to focus on Lily, to find solace in the simple joy of spending time with his daughter.

At home, he helps Lily settle at the kitchen table with her crayons and coloring book before moving to make them dinner.

“Spaghetti-O's okay, baby?” he asks, already knowing her answer.

“Yayyy!” she cheers, lifting both arms in a way she clearly picked up from Eddie.

They both settle on the couch with their dinner on their laps, indulging in the treat as Steve starts the movie. Finding Dory, a movie Robin recommended. Lily is totally engrossed in the adventures on screen, giving Steve the freedom to let his mind wander. He tries to push those thoughts away, but the image of Eddie with some faceless guy keeps intruding.

It hurts, and he wonders again if he could have done something different. Maybe if he’d said something, told Eddie about his feelings earlier… He’s still convinced that breaking up was the right decision, that it wasn’t working and that Lily was the one suffering because of it. Back then, they had forgotten how to talk to each other. But now, Steve feels like they could re-learn, not just how to talk but how to be together, if they could give each other the time and space to do so.

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even hear the doorbell ring. It’s only when Lily pulls at his sleeve that he looks up.

“Huh?”

“Someone’s at the door.”

Steve's heart races as he moves to the door, unsure who could be visiting at this hour. He opens it to find Eddie standing there, a hesitant smile on his face. He’s not dressed up, instead wearing a well-worn pair of dark jeans and a soft-looking hoodie.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly.

“Hey,” Steve replies, his voice a mix of surprise and confusion. “I thought you had a date?”

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. “Yeah, about that… I canceled. Figured I’d rather be here with you and Lily. If that’s okay?”

Steve’s heart skips a beat, his mind racing. “Yeah, of course. Come in.”

Eddie steps inside, and Lily's face lights up. “Daddy Eddie!” she squeals, running to hug him. Eddie scoops her up, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Hey, princess. How’s my favorite girl?”

“Good! We’re watching Finding Dory!” Lily announces proudly.

“Sounds like fun,” Eddie says, setting her down gently. He looks at Steve, his expression softening. “Can I join you?”

“Sure,” Steve says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll get you a plate.”

As they settle back on the couch, the atmosphere is charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. Eddie sits beside Steve, close enough that their shoulders occasionally brush. It’s a small contact, but it sends shivers down Steve’s spine.

Throughout the movie, Steve finds it hard to concentrate. His mind is a whirl of emotions, questions, and hopes. He glances at Eddie, who seems equally distracted, though he’s making a valiant effort to engage with Lily and the movie.

When the credits finally roll, Lily is already half asleep, nestled between them. Eddie looks at her with a tender smile, then at Steve. "She's grown so much," he says softly. "Every time I look at her, I swear she's grown another inch."

"Yeah, she has," Steve agrees, his voice just as soft. "It doesn't help that you only see her every other week."

"Ouch," Eddie winces and Steve's head whips around.

"Oh God, Eddie, no! That's not what I meant. I feel like I've been putting my foot in my mouth around you lately," Steve says with big, pleading eyes and color in his cheeks, "What I meant to say is that Lily misses you, you know. We both do."

Eddie's face softens, his eyes flickering with feeling. "I miss being with both of you, too. Every day."

Steve's heart aches at the admission and he decides to take Robin's advice. "Eddie, I..." he begins, just as Eddie says, "Steve...."

Eddie hesitates for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Steve, I was getting ready for my date, but I couldn't stop thinking about the expression on your face when I told you. It was like a punch to the gut."

Steve's eyes widen in surprise, but he stays silent, letting Eddie continue.

"I realized in that moment that all I wanted was to spend the evening with you and Lily, like a family," Eddie says, his voice trembling slightly. "No date could ever measure up to the way I feel when I'm around you."

Steve's heart races, his breath catching in his throat. "Eddie, I... I don't know what to say."

Eddie reaches out, gently taking Steve's hand in his. "You don't have to say anything right now. Just... know that I still love you, Steve. I never stopped. And I miss us, more than words can say."

Steve's eyes fill with tears, his grip on Eddie's hand tightening. "I miss us too, Eddie. Every single day."

Eddie pulls Steve into a hug, their daughter still nestled between them. "Let's take it one step at a time, okay? For Lily. For us."

Steve nods, feeling a sense of hope he hasn't felt in a long time. "Yeah, one step at a time."

As they sit there, holding each other, Steve knows this is the beginning of something new. It won't be easy, but he's hopeful that they've both learned from past mistakes. This was their second chance, and he knows they'll make it this time. Together, as a family.