#seeing him made me cry buckets man

[kithtaehyung]

erm, did i see you at jin's performance in seoul or am i imagining things?

……..

YES I WAS THERE😭😭😭

[byexbyez]

lovers of valdaro | leon kennedy x reader

PART I  |  PART II  |  PART III (finale)

pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader 

summary: Some things have changed. The months, the weather, the air that hangs between Leon and you. Yet one thing has remained constant: his desire to keep you as close as possible. 

word count: 8.2K of gratuitous smut 

warnings: 18+, smut, established relationship, pda, bickering, consensual somnophilia, groping, dry humping, unprotected p in v, fingering, prone boning, swearing, slight dom/sub undertones, pet names, an attempt at praise kink, pill as contraception, creampie, oral sex (f!receiving), marking, unintentional edging, masturbation, aftercare, no use of y/n, oh and ooc 

notes: i’m sorry to those who were expecting pt 3 to be angsty. i wanted to portray some changes and get used to writing and publishing smut. also, this can be read separately as it is almost all smut. enjoy!

➵ read on ao3.

“This man yaps a lot,” Leon says from behind you, you’re startled by his voice near your ear. His lips tickle your earshell. Like a cat’s fur standing up, your shoulders go up slightly. Renting only one sunbed –a narrow chair, really– for the two of you starts to feel like a mistake. Well, you plan to swim anyway, I’ll just sunbathe, you had said earlier, failing to account for Leon’s FOMO when you pulled out your book from your beach bag. For some reason, he was interested in anything that captured your attention as of late. 

You were looking at travel guides for you and your sister back at home when Leon saw your laptop screen. “What’s this?” he asked, adjusting the screen so he could see it better. 

“Beaches in Italy,” you answered. “My sister will be using her yearly vacation this year. I’m making  a list of places we can go if she asks.” Leon was silent and when you turned to him, already watching you intently. “What?” 

“Our anniversary is coming up.” 

You looked at the date, wondering why he brought it up. “I guess it is.” 

“How about we go? Before your sister asks, I mean,” he suggested, scratching the back of his neck. 

You straightened up on the couch. “You wanna go on a vacation with me?” 

The corners of his lips curled up. “Err, I believe I asked you first.” 

A little girl runs by your sunbed with her arms full of plastic toys, screaming with joy as she plops down to the sand. The bottoms of her tiny feet are red, probably because of how hot the sand is. She begins digging up sand with her toy shovel. 

“It’s Dostoevsky,” you say, like that would be enough clarification for Leon. His arm comes up to pinch the book up top to flip it and peek at its title, which reads “White Nights.”  Propping up your elbow on your torso to adjust both your book and your attention, you try to move as little as possible to not disturb him. He basically made you sit between his legs and lay your back on his chest, saying he would take a dip in the sea in a few minutes. 

You know he’s about to speak again when your head rises along his chest. “He’s been talking nonstop for three pages.” 

“Leon, I’m trying to focus.” 

The little girl a few feet away lets out a frustrated cry when her castle crumbles down, her little arms flap irritably, chucking the toy shovel in front of her in the process. A slightly older boy, probably her brother, comes to the rescue with a bucket full of sea water. He shows his little sister how to wet the sand for it to hold shape. The sound of waves crashing against the breakwater drowns out their shrill laughter.

“You’re squishing your boob,” Leon blurts out, takes hold of the planted elbow on your breast and lifts it in the air. 

Trying to follow the words, your head knocks on Leon’s chin. “I can’t read like this. Let go of my arm.” 

“Nuh-uh. If I let go, you’re gonna keep pressing your arm to your boob and have a nip slip.” 

“I’m not gonna have a nip slip.” 

“Whatever the correct verb for a nip slip is, it will happen.” His chin digs into the crown of your hair. “And those teenagers will remember this day forever.” 

Your eyebrows scrunch together. “What teenagers?” 

“The ones that are looking this way,” Leon states in a matter-of-factly tone. He’s right, a bunch of boys are in the sea, laughing among themselves by splashing water. Every now and then their heads tilt up to your direction. 

You look down on yourself to see if the swimsuit is covering you like it’s supposed to. There’s nothing wrong with it, yet that doesn’t stop you from setting the book down on your stomach. “Why are they looking here? What’s wrong with my swimsuit?” 

“It looks good on you, that’s why. Hormonal teenagers.” 

“I think it’s the position we’re in,” you mumble. Your back feels damp with sweat as you peel away from him, sitting up further away.

But Leon has other plans, he snakes his hand around your shoulder and plants his palm right on your sternum, pulling you back to him by your chest. 

“Oof,” you breathe out once you collide with his torso again. 

He taps his fingers on your breastbone as he catches the slipping book on your lap. “Here, I’ll hold it. You turn the pages.” 

“It’s too hot for this,” you groan. 

“Pardon me for doing something,” he says, sounding neither hurt nor sorry. 

“You said you’d swim,” you say, though it sounds more like a suggestion. “Want me to lather you up in sunscreen? I know you didn’t put it on back at the hotel.” 

“I mean, when you ask it like that, sure.” He’s grinning like a cheshire cat, it warms your heart that he’s pleased with himself just by managing to get under your skin. Something quite like a heartbeat, it feels intimate, an embrace out in the open. In a snap, you shake off the feeling. You’re not going to see these people again, they do not know you, just like how you don’t know the couple dipping their feet in the water while holding hands, little girl building sandcastles with her brother, young boys jumping on each other’s backs. Who would have thought being a stranger to all of it would make your yearning flesh all the more tender? 

Your wandering eyes shut in bliss when you feel it. A featherlight, barely-there kiss on the back of your neck, placed just below your hair, followed by the disappearance of your book from your sight. Leon reaches down to drop it in your bag, you wiggle away to let him search for the bottle of sunscreen. 

“Take your shirt off,” you say once you turn to face him. 

“Damn, woman. At least buy me dinner first.” 

“Can you get any cornier? You’re getting overpriced beer at best.” 

“...May your sky always be clear, may your dear smile always be bright and happy, and may you be for ever blessed for that moment of bliss and happiness which you gave to another lonely and grateful heart. Isn't such a moment sufficient for the whole of one's life–?”

Your attention snaps away from your book over a playful voice. “Hey, miss. Sorry to bother you.” Leon is standing a few steps in front of your chair, hands on his hips, most of his weight on one leg. Water drops cling to his firm chest, following a delectable path down his muscles. Some even caress his faded scars gently, a reminder that he has endured things far from gentle. His hair seems darker due to saltwater, the tips of it almost poking his eyes, by the looks of him having to shake them away from his face when he attempts to tilt his head to the side. “Are you perhaps single?” 

You purse your lips to suppress a grin. “Why are you asking?” 

“I’m interested.” 

“Oh,” you croon in mock-embarrassment. “I’m married.” You make sure to show off the gold band on your ring finger. 

He walks next to your chair. “Lucky guy. Speaking of, where is he?” His gaze lingers on your legs that are bent towards your chest, the book propped up on your knees. 

You close the book and play along. “He’s swimming.” 

“Is he a good swimmer?” 

“Yeah, his strokes are phenomenal.” 

His eyebrows shoot up. “Are we still talking about swimming?” 

You tilt your head to the side. “Why yes, is there a misunderstanding?” 

“No, no. Just making sure we’re on the same page here. Tell me more about him.” 

You gesture to the empty room on the foot of the sunchair. “Then you might want to sit here for a while. Maybe dry off?” 

“I’d love to keep you company until your husband shows up.” Leon sits sideways next to your feet, way too familiar for a ‘stranger.’ “What’s he like?”

“First of all, he looks a lot like you.” You press your lips together. This is ridiculous. “He’s also incredibly annoying.” When Leon gasps half-mockingly, you cast a sideways glance at him. “His jokes are really corny, he’s lucky I put up with them.” 

“That might hurt his feelings.” 

“Well, he’s not here.” 

He scrunches his eyebrows together, there’s a visible question mark in his blink. “My jokes are that bad?” 

“Aaand, the play is over.” You slap your knees lightly, sliding your feet towards Leon until your toes touch the side of his thigh. “We are not sharing the chair again. You’re still dripping.” 

A sluggish sigh escapes his lips. “Let me lean on you at least.” 

And before you can say no, Leon is relocating your hands from your knees, moving them by your wrists, placing your arms at your sides. He folds his own arms on top of your knees and rests his temple on them, hugging your knees to himself, looking off into the side. You could lean forward and bury your nose in his hair like this, inhale the sun and salt, let your lips linger, let him feel the ghost of a kiss for a change. Though he was always better at unprompted acts of affection, maybe because he didn’t think much of it. 

It’s peaceful—the secluded space you’ve managed to carve out for the two of you, despite the chaos of the crowded beach. It feels like a quiet world unto itself, hidden in plain sight amid a sea of distant faces, as if removed from everything around you. It’s strangely intimate. Minutes or hours pass, you can’t make out which, lost in the stillness. 

When Leon speaks, his thumb starts brushing your knee. “I can hear you think,” he murmurs, his voice low. What’s going on in that head of yours? 

“Will you tell me a truth?” you ask, almost in a whisper. 

Leon doesn’t lift his head up, lazy like a cat in the sun. Although his body reminds him to be on guard upon hearing a kid yell in the distance, his muscles twitch reflexively. “Why?” 

“For all of this to feel real.” Your eyes follow the slope of his nose, then the squished red cheek leaning on his forearm. The sunscreen you copiously put on his nose bridge couldn’t protect his skin. You can’t help but admire his long lashes, fluttering so prettily the action could make butterflies jealous. 

His answer surprises you. “I’m scared all the time.” 

“Of what?” 

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” His thumb stops moving so he can squeeze your kneecap. “I’m scared that one day you’ll want us to go our separate ways. I’m scared that I will not be able to let you go. You know I wasn’t able to do it the first time around. I dread the day you won’t want to see my face again.” 

“Leon–” 

“Sometimes I get scared that something will happen to you and I will lose you.” 

It dawns on you then. The reason why you’ve been waking up to strong arms tangled around your waist for months. 

“Leon, nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

However, he’s still going on. “If you decide you’ve had enough, just let me know, okay? Don’t just up and leave.” 

Your throat constricts itself. You don’t know what to say to that. Part of you wants to do just that: up and leave. Not the way he means but in a way to escape his hold, step aside to mull it over and come up with a humane response. The fact that he couldn’t meet your eyes while saying all that leaves your heart with a dull ache, chest too heavy to even breathe. 

He finally looks up, expression unreadable. His eyes scour your face, searching for something. “Does it feel real now?” 

You swallow on nothing as you meet his eyes. Sure, you nod. It terrifies you how real it actually feels. 

Leon thinks he’s a genius for lowering the temperature of the air-conditioning while you were in the bathroom, carrying out your night routine. No, he didn’t have any malicious intent, not at all, he was just sweating a lot even after his shower. By the time you entered the bed in your pajamas, you suspected nothing, lifted the bedcover to join him. Your skin was glowing from all the products he couldn’t wrap his head around, your lips were shining clear. For a moment, he wanted to plant his mouth to your lips and taste the vaseline. 

He was aroused, which was not surprising considering the amount of sex you two had been having. It’s become so regular that he thinks he never had this much compatibility with anyone before. Goodnight, Leon, you murmured before gracing him with the sight of your back, voice so sweet he nearly whined out of desperation. He didn’t know why he waited for your breathing to fall steady, he’s been holding you in your sleep for a while now. Every morning you wake up before him and toss his arms aside, get the day started. 

When he’s sure that you’ve fallen asleep, he makes his move, drapes an arm around your waist, pressing his bare chest to your clothed back, spooning you. He’s careful not to wake you despite the evidence of his arousal resting against your ass. Normally, he would ignore it and take care of it in the morning but you make that impossible by squirming in your sleep. A few minutes pass by and he guesses the room must feel like an icebox to you, he knows you get cold quickly. Leon thinks he’s a genius because he could just wake you up and suggest warming you up. He also thinks he’s a fool because what if you don’t wake up, with all this squirming? He could move to the side and wait for the cold to do its own thing or he could just get up and go to the bathroom to rub one out. Or he could lower his boxers, do it right here. He’s positive you wouldn’t mind, that’s how intimate you two have become.  

Before he can decide, a shiver takes over your body, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Now Leon feels bad. He’ll just get up and fix the AC to an acceptable temperature. 

You shrivel into him, searching for warmth. The arm across your waist reaches up, the entirety of his hand cupping your breast that’s pressed against the bed. His body runs hot despite the breeze in the hotel room, so he thinks this will help. Just as a quiet, needy cry from your throat travels to his burning ears, his other arm snakes beneath your body to press against your belly. He squeezes you tightly until he can feel the blood pumping through your veins, buries his nose into the crook of your neck. Inhaling deeply bestows on him your enticing scent. 

Guilt washes over him as he ruts his hips into your sleep shorts, because who becomes an animal in heat when they smell clean soap? 

Leon. Leon does. 

The smallest things have been setting him off. All of your flimsy sundresses, swaying of your hips in them, your smooth legs, the gold anklet that matches with your wedding ring, the swimsuit that makes your cleavage call his attention. You, taking his arm while walking side to side. In fact, he suppressed smothering his face into your cheek today at lunch—cuteness aggression— as he tried to eat his food in peace. You were enjoying your pasta, humming contentedly after your first bite, you smiled at him when you caught him watching you intently. Leon was never into taking pictures but at that moment, he wanted to engrave the picture of you smiling up at him lovingly into his memory for the future, remember your crinkled eyes and adorably scrunched up nose when he would miss you. He knew he would miss that moment right when it was happening, he’d be gone again for an assignment soon. 

“What?” You laughed.

“That good?” he asked, eyes pointing to your bowl of pasta. 

“Yep! Want some?” 

Leon keeps clinging until your body twitches no longer, takes deep breaths against your neck, pleased as his heat completely stills you. His hold relaxes as he becomes aware of his grip strength. He releases his clamped fingers from your breast, stroking your nipple apologetically. It will surely leave a mark on your soft skin, which you will whine about later, though he knows deep down you enjoy him being rough with you. After all, it was you who brought up that you weren’t made of glass, he didn’t need to act as if you were going to break. 

Your soft sighs soothe him to an extent, as far as the strain in his boxers allow. Fuck it, he thinks. He’s still humping your backside, cock throbbing. He’s going to wake you up. Pounce on you once you open your eyes. 

Forefinger and thumb pinching a hardening nipple, he nuzzles his face into where your neck meets your shoulder, dropping heavy kisses first, then switching to sucking your skin. If he could drown in your smell, he would. “Honey, please wake up.” 

“Hm?” He hears you, heart starting to beat even faster. “Leon?” Your first touch is on his arms, fingertips ice cold, groggy voice calling to him. 

“You awake?” he breathes in your ear. 

Feeling tickled, your shoulder rises to your ear. “Clearly,” you reply hoarsely. His thigh is glued to the back of yours, reaching back to hold it, you manage to slow his movements. His erection is fully pressed against you. “Everything okay?” 

“No.” He pants in your hair. “Need to fuck you.” 

“Leon,” you groan, face dropping fully into your pillow. “I’m too tired.” 

“Please, you don’t need to do anything.” 

“Don’t think I can even lift my leg.” 

“Then don’t. I’ll do everything. Lift your hips for a second so I can get this off?” 

“Fine,” you huff, rolling onto your stomach so his strong-willed hands can strip off your shorts along with your underwear. “We don’t have lube.” 

He drops a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll just have to prep you.” 

Ugh, so sweet. “Make it quick,” you say as he carefully sits on the backs of your thighs, his knees trapping your legs together. “How do we do this?” 

“Stay still,” he mumbles, barely audible. You grow impatient as you hear him moving in the dark, taking off his only piece of clothing. He reaches over to the bedside drawer to turn on the lamp. The blanket is scattered across the bed. You hiss sharply, eyes adjusting to the soft light. 

He holds your shoulders firmly. “What’s wrong?” 

“Why is it so cold?” 

Somehow, you can hear him grinning behind you. “The AC’s broken.” 

“Have you tried calling the reception? It’s too cold for this.” 

“I’ll warm you up,” he says as his heat hovers over you, fingers hiking up your flimsy camisole to gain access to your waist, the other hand shaking off the thin straps. He buries his nose into the back of your neck, kissing a path to your right shoulder, sharp teeth grazing skin along the way. He shifts his attention to your left shoulder, reaching down to cup your ass, pulling apart your cheeks. His fingers find your sex straight away; he’s familiar with your body. 

“You’re a bit wet for someone who’s feeling too tired,” he teases. 

You don’t bother with pleasantries. “I will leave you blue-balled for the rest of the week.” 

“Right,” he says. “Lift your head up.” 

“I just woke up, you’re asking for too much from me.” 

He nudges his nose into the back of your ear instead of answering. Kiss me, he demands, pressing his hips to your plushness. Familiar with his silent commands, you submit to his reign, craning your neck back, open mouth chasing his. 

Your mouths clash unceremoniously. It’s messy, sloven, uncoordinated, and animalistic. He finds your tongue in no time, suckling on the wet muscle all the while managing to lift your shoulders off the bed to drop your thin straps around your elbows, pulling your camisole down. Now your top sits below your naked breasts, bunched around your middle like a thick headband. Leon’s jaw moves as if he’s thirsty, drinking from your mouth unapologetically. The noises from your so-called kissing are obscene, filling the room along with the sounds of heavy breathing. Heat starts to pool in your lower belly, body slowly warming up. 

Quick as a wink, a strong hand wraps around the back of your neck, pushing you face down to the mattress. Your surprised yelp into your pillow is cut short once he pulls your hair gently, laughing next to your ear. “Don’t want you to suffocate. Try to keep your head up. Can you do that for me, honey?” 

Rolling your eyes, you bite back a remark. Resting your cheek on the pillow is all he’s going to get. After all, he did tell you that you didn’t need to do anything. Your crushed breasts feel funny, one side aching considerably more than the other, owing to him groping it roughly while you were sleeping. 

Leon lets out a low chuckle and continues his undeterred path from your jaw to your neck, nipping at skin, leaving a stinging sensation behind. His knees make room for your squirming legs, a perfect chance for him to dip his hand between your thighs, a slight part of your legs to accommodate his fingers on your cunt. Rubbing your lower lips, he slicks his fingers with your wetness. 

Your breath hitches when two pads of fingers make contact with your clit, drawing tight circles. “That feel good?” His voice is muffled by your skin. 

You groan a noise of confirmation as he puts more pressure on his fingertips, quickening his movements on your now soaked pussy. His thumb catches at your entrance, maybe accidentally, and you can’t hold yourself back from pursuing that pleasure, back arching so your hips could sway up, chasing his touch. Thankfully, he is quick to place his thumb back, swiping back and forth. The double stimulation on your opening and clit creates enough lubrication for him to slide right in. 

Your eagerness doesn’t go unnoticed by Leon, the feel of his teeth on your earlobe is a wary appreciation. “Too tired, huh? Look at you.” He means your hips in the air, quivering right in front of his view. “Lemme help you relax.” 

You think he’ll finally thrust himself in, however, you’re taken by surprise when he works two fingers into you, the stretch unexpected, but appreciated nonetheless. He shoves your hips back down into the mattress, arm across the small of your back to keep you steady against the bed. “Don’t be disappointed. I need to open you up first,” he speaks into your temple, nose pressed to the tail of your eyebrow. He starts moving his fingers in and out. “Don’t want you to hurt.” 

He grabs a handful of your ass to pull apart while working your cunt open with his fingers. Your whole body feels electrified each time he strokes the velvety walls of your pussy, throat humming with need. 

“Leon…” you moan, wanting to arch into him. Your desperate hand slides under your belly to touch your clit. “Enough.” 

But that’s not what you want to tell him. You want to tell him this is not enough, he needs to be inside you right now or you will start to wail, turn over and jump his bones. This is quite the opposite from where everything started, with you worked up and fussy in his hands, unable to speak properly. 

You feel him watching his own hand between your legs, ears perked up for the sounds coming from where you are gushing, shallowing his thrusts once he feels your fingers join in. “Enough? You don’t want to come first?” 

“S’cold,” you cry out. “Fuck me already.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey,” he coos at you, pulling his soaked digits out of you, head rising to meet with your parted lips. The arm around your waist slides up, fingers gently digging into your scalp to hold you in place as he kisses you, using the fingers he just pulled out of you to slick up his cock. He moans into your mouth before pulling away. 

“You have me. Ready?” 

You nod into the pillow. 

As he presses his swollen tip into you, he watches the back of your head tip back with a shiver, your neck exposed for him to reach and grab. Instead, he wraps his arm around your neck in a gentle headlock, helping you rest your cheek on his bicep, the movement helping him slip further inside you. 

Hot, bullish breaths burrow into your neck when he is buried to the hilt, balls pressed against your clit and fingers that are spreading yourself. 

“Fuck, you smell so good,” he whispers, his torso meeting your back. 

He presses his entire weight down onto you and it is glorious, being trapped between him and the mattress, surrounded by his body heat with no room to flee. Not that you even consider it. Though your wrist, strained under the weight, digs into your pelvis as he begins to thrust feverishly. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts. 

Your mouth opens to let him know of the awkward position your arm is in but you only manage to moan wantonly. He takes it as a cue to snap his hips faster. 

“Wait, Leon—my wrist.” 

He stops completely, lifting his hips slightly for you to pull your arm out from underneath, dropping a kiss in your hair as an apology. “Fuck, sorry. Forgot your hand was there. Are you good? Am I too heavy?” 

Your hands fist around the sheets to brace yourself. He did not pull himself fully out of you, you just want him to fill you to the brim again. Even though you don’t know if you can come like this. “No, I’m good. Let’s continue.” 

As your wish comes true, his hips pick up a frenzied pace, the bed starts to shake. You don’t know how he manages it, you’re immobilized under him, high on the pleasurable feeling. Your poor nipples are chafing against the sheets with all the movement. The noises escaping your lips are embarrassingly loud, mingling with the creaky springs of the hotel bed. He doesn’t hold back either, sucking love-bites wherever his mouth can reach, moaning against your spit-lacquered skin. Palms sliding under your shoulders to hold you even closer, he squeezes you to himself while letting his weight push you hard into the mattress. 

It’s as if he wants to open up his chest and tuck you beneath his ribs, or crawl beneath your skin from behind, until you both become one. 

His pace falters, you squeak as he bottoms out, walls pulsing around him. He must have been desperately horny, for he is spitting out delirious things in your ear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck— you look so cute. You always do.” 

“Huh?” 

Rather than addressing your confusion, he leans in your face. One hand cups your jaw, guiding your face to his, squishing your cheeks together until your lips are puckered, ready for him to attack, though it’s a pleasant assault of kisses. “You’re so—” Kiss. “Soft.” Kiss. “It makes me crazy.” Kiss. “And you always smell so good.” Kiss. 

“Leon, what’s gotten into you—mmph!” 

He doesn’t care about what you have to say about his raving state; instead, he crashes his lips to yours for a longer, deeper kiss. His strong arm hugs your neck again, cradling you to himself. You swallow his animalistic groan when your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling on the tresses while trying to squirm. His hair has gotten so long; a luxury of taking time off work. 

His hips start to grind, precise snaps eliciting small sounds out of both of you, his cock massaging your innermost crevices. 

“You’re like an angel,” he whispers in your mouth, panting wildly. “You feel like heaven. God, I love you. I can’t believe—shit, I’m close. I’m gonna come. Tell me where to come.” 

If he wasn’t literally in your face, you might have missed it—that sacred, dangerous word slipping past his lips as if it was an everyday occurrence. 

It didn’t even register at first, partly because it happened so quickly and partly because it made you clamp down on him with an intense ripple of pleasure, causing him to grunt. 

Losing all strength in your muscles, you sag against his arm on the pillow, neck too numb to keep your head up, feet plopping down with a pat. When did you lift your feet up? 

Like a snap of a thread, his demeanor changes instantly. Concerned, he brushes your hair away from your face hastily. “Baby, did you just come?” 

A sound resembling “yes” is murmured into your pillow, your whole body feeling prickly upon the fondness in his voice, spasming uncontrollably. He’s still inside you, reaching incredibly deep, hip bones digging into the meat of your ass, caging you in his warmth. 

“Didn’t even need me to touch your clit,” he says. There’s that smugness in his tone, like he didn’t just rock your whole world. 

Feeling fuzzy around the edges, you remember his need to have a release, and words rush out without much thought, “Inside. Come inside.” 

The faint rhythm of his hips turn sloppy upon hearing you. He’s gasping, “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m on the pill.” 

“Fuck. Thank you, baby.” 

His face finds home in your neck again. It’s not long before you feel the thick trickle of warmth filling you up. Coming to his senses, his arms loosen around you, waiting for his breathing to turn to normal. 

You can sleep like this, you think. With him literally in your skin, smothered under his delectable weight. It’s calming. 

Eventually, he pulls out and rolls over on his back, the absence of his weight feels oddly sad. He turns his neck towards you. “That was… something else. How are you feeling?” 

You stretch your arms, sliding them under your pillow. “Like I’ve just run a marathon. And I didn’t even move much.” 

“Now that you’re properly tired, you’re gonna sleep like a log.” He chuckles, throwing an arm on his forehead. 

You slide a hand between your legs, knitting your eyebrows, reconsidering. “We need to clean up first.” 

“Right,” he sighs. “I promised you I wouldn’t make you move, didn’t I? Wait here.”

Before you can say anything, he gets up from the bed, picks up his underwear from the ground and heads to the bathroom. You don’t move in case the viscid fluids threaten to leak onto the bed. He comes back with a few rolled-up toilet papers and a damp towel, with his underwear on. He sits on the edge of the bed next to you. 

You spread your legs as he holds up the rolled-up toilet papers to your dripping entrance. “Push it out.” 

You squeeze out the mixture of you and him. Your cheeks flare up, not because of embarrassment. But because of something else. Him instructing you with a raspy voice shouldn’t get you fired up, your limbs are still weak from the earth-shattering orgasm he pulled out of you, but your body reacts on its own volition. 

“I didn’t know you were on the pill,” he continues as he wipes down your sweat with the towel. 

“A recent development,” you say, eyes heavy with sleepiness. “Started it a while ago, I meant to tell you.” 

“That’s fine.” He cleans up the residue between your thighs lastly. The pressure of his touch is so careful, in case you’re overstimulated. “Honestly, I think I found out about it in the best way.” 

A small chuckle from you eases his heart. The image of you lying naked on your belly, your head turned to the side with bleary eyes is like a painting to him. He leans down and places a gentle kiss between your shoulder blades. 

“Can I wake you up in the morning?” he mutters into your skin before hoisting your camisole to its place on your shoulders. 

You understand his implication. “Yeah, but no sooner than eight or I’ll be super cranky.” 

“We’ll miss breakfast.” 

“Breakfast or sex. The choice is yours.” 

“Room service it is.” 

Eventually, he finds your panties and shorts under the blankets, lifts them up over your hips, and finishes dressing you.

You give him a smile, fingers resting on your lips as you ponder. “I have something to ask you.”

“I know,” he replies, too quickly. He’s aware of the things he’s just said. “I know you want to talk about it. But I feel awful for disturbing your sleep. You’re tired. We can talk all you want in the morning. Just know that I meant it.” 

“C’mere,” you whisper, rolling onto your side to reach out to him.

This time, it’s Leon who seeks warmth, succumbing to the balmy caress of your hand as you pull him in.

The kiss is too soft, too fragile, and he wants it to linger forever. 

He’s offended when you pull away abruptly. But that feeling is short-lived as you turn your head away to sneeze twice. “Bless you,” he says. 

Deep down inside, remembering he changed the settings of the AC, he rolls his eyes at himself. He gets up and turns it off, throwing the soiled toilet papers in the trash on his way. “I’ll call the reception the first thing tomorrow.” 

Leon is insatiable. 

The first things he notices when he opens his crusty eyes is his morning wood and the deep red hues scattered across the back of your neck in front of his face. Wiping the sleep from his eyes with one hand—the other arm trapped under your neck—he presses himself to your backside. A repeat of what started everything. 

He retracts after letting out a low growl into your hair, only to roll you on your back by your shoulders. You’re still asleep, muscles all soft and pliant under his maneuvering. So pretty, he thinks. The tiny flutter of your eyelashes casts soft, quivering shadows on the apples of your cheeks as warm sunlight streams into the room through a narrow gap in the curtains. Hovering over you between your legs, he cups your face, thumbs caressing the dainty shadows. His breaths fan your face as a gentle nudge to your slumber. 

“Baby…” he croaks, voice all ragged from hours of disuse over the night. 

Even in your sleep you seek out his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, rousing something carnal in him. His lips get to work on your throat briskly, sucking the delicate skin, humming against it. 

He feels the vibrations of the mellow sound your throat gives out against his lips and continues the path down to your clavicle, leaving ruddy blemishes behind. Rubbing up and down on your thighs, his palms curve behind the backs of your knees, bending them to spread your legs completely open against the bed. He presses his hard-on to your center. 

Your cunt must be sore, he’ll kiss it better. 

He mouths at the tops of your breasts, palms fondling them up in his face. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispers, though you’re too drowsy to hear. 

His head slips down the blanket, your cover slides down your body as it gets caught on his broad back, opening an airway for him. 

He starts littering kisses on the inside of your thigh, beginning from your knee and continuing the path up to your groin, pulling back each time his nose touches the verge of your panties. He looks up expectantly to see you stir. Because once he sees you awake, he’ll devour you. 

You are stirring, head lolling in an attempt to turn on your side. Leon’s hands quickly clamp down on your thighs, “Nuh-uh.” He denies you, keeping your hips still. His mouth switches to your other thigh, repeating his ministrations. 

His teeth graze the edge of your underwear. Your leg twitches under his touch, which further encourages his sudden urge. 

Blunt teeth sink into the soft, supple flesh of your inner thigh. 

That seems to wake you up as your head jerks, hand flying to his hair between your legs under the blanket. “Ow.” 

“Morning.” His tongue darts out to soothe the dull ache. 

With heavy eyelids, you crane your neck to assess the situation. His lips are slick and plump from all the kissing and biting. “Mhm. Good morning.” Yawning, you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, the other one cards through Leon’s hair lazily. As your grip tightens, you drop your head back to the pillow to blink away the haziness. 

The sounds of his lips smacking against your skin are accompanied by the fan noises filling the room. You realize you’re no longer sweating like you were through the night, when the broken air-conditioning left you sweltering—or would have had you freezing if it were actually running. You’re confused. “AC’s working again?” 

You feel him smiling against your thigh. “Yeah. Called the reception and everything.” 

“What was wrong with it?” 

“I’m literally in between your legs and that’s what you wanna know? Like, right now?” He nuzzles your underwear, placing a kiss on your clothed center to stress his frustration, which you reply with a startled whimper. 

“First, I risked frostbite and then sweated like it was hell. Of fucking course I wanna know the reason of my suffering.” 

“You didn’t suffer,” he says in a jeering tone, fingers hooking under your panties to peel them off. He’s quick to get rid of that obstructive piece of fabric. “I’d say I took pretty good care of you.” 

You roll your eyes dramatically. “Yeah, yeah—world’s best husband or whatever, keeps waking me up because he’s horny.” 

“Hey, you said breakfast or pussy and I made my choice.” 

He licks a path up from your entrance to your clit, your hips jump. He grips your thighs and slings them over his shoulders. 

“I did not say that.” Words slurred, your eyes close upon the honeyed sensation. 

“Something along those lines,” he mumbles, lips brushing against the sensitive little bud of nerves. 

You kick the blanket off his back so he doesn’t suffocate under the heat. The slight temperature change makes your hips jerk up to his face, his morning stubble scratches the insides of your thighs deliciously. He drapes an arm across your abdomen to keep you steady. His other arm tugs on the thigh slung over his shoulder, only slightly, to make room for his head. 

Two fingers brush your slit, spreading apart slowly to gain access to your most sensitive parts. It’s still a little tender and swollen that when his hot breath fans across the sensitive flesh, your legs try to shut instinctively. His hold grows stronger to remind you not to squash his head. He licks a broad swipe up your slit and looks up at you through his long lashes. 

You can’t help but moan. He looks so pretty like this. 

Leaning forward, he places a kiss directly on your clitoris, the soft smack sound sends a hot burn to your ears. 

He parts his lips to suck your sensitive clit into his mouth, your back arches as you gasp. His plump lips pull on the taut flesh, making you writhe against the sheets. Now aware of your fist that was bunching the sheets this whole time, you let go to join it with your other hand in his hair.  

He’s always liked your hands in his hair, petting it, tugging at it, pulling it to steer him to where you need him most, he loves it all. He moans as you make a mess of his soft tresses, sending jolts of vibrations up your body. 

Relaxing his tight jaw with a wet pop, he quickly drops a kiss to the juncture of your thigh and begins to lap up your dripping mound like a starved man. 

“Leon!” Your back arches again, hands buried in his hair pressing his face firmly between your legs. You’re not sure if he can even breathe with your thighs caging him. You don’t care, he’ll tap you if he wants to take a breather. 

Blindly, the hand that keeps your slit open slides up to your chest, to push between the valley of your breasts. You clutch your palm on the back of his hand, fingers slotting between his. He squeezes his hand once. I’m alright, it means. He keeps your intertwined hands there. 

His face burrows deeper into your slick, thrusting his tongue into your hole in and out. Nose pressed against your clit, he hums contentedly and starts wiggling his head, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. 

The gasps that fall from your lips fuel him, he drags his tongue back up to your sensitive bud, flicking up and down with only one goal in his mind. 

Up and down. Suck. Up and down. Suck. 

“Too much, ‘s too much!” You repeat with a shaky voice. But you are insatiable too, with the way you guide his hand to your tit, encouraging him to squeeze tight. 

“I know, baby, I know. Just tell me when,” he rasps, trying to keep up with your bucking hips. Groping your breast under your pressing palm, he can’t quite reach to your shoulder to lower the straps of your top, though his fingers find your taut nipple through the fabric and start to draw circles around the pebbled peak. 

His stubble burns your thighs so good it only drives you more crazy. Your droopy eyes lock with his determined ones, mouth hanging open in a silent moan, hand brushing away the hair on his forehead. 

He tightens his tongue and places the tip of it right on your sensitive clit, wriggling the wet muscle in a snake-like fashion, and listens to your moans. Each roll of his tongue is a sweet torment, delivering sparks of pleasure to your quivering body. 

“That’s not—ah!—that’s not fair.” 

His mouth never leaving your pussy, he hums questioningly. “Mm?” The short syllable vibrates through your core, making you fussier. 

What’s not fair? His hips grinding into the mattress? The hand that previously held you down now slipping under his boxers to rub his slick, swollen tip? Fairness is not even the last thing on his mind right now. He’s too drunk on your essence, happily suffocated between your legs, unaware of the fast pace his hand picks up on his cock. He’s fully pumping himself. 

You also know you’re not making any sense. A hot blush warms your chest, travels up your neck to your ears, a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin. Your body is screaming for release, of course you don’t have any idea what you are blabbering about. 

Feeling your clit pulse beneath his tongue, he waits to hear your staccato breathing, waits for the tumble of unintelligible words to fall on his ears. 

“Leon, I’m… I’m—ah, fuck!” 

Just before the intense wave of pleasure comes crashing down on you, he tears his mouth away from you, panting for oxygen. 

“No, please,” you cry out. “Don’t be mean.” 

Not wanting to deny you stimulation, he gets to work on your tit and gives it a firm squeeze for good measure before returning his fingers to your aching nipple. He toys with it, flicking, pressing down, pinching through fabric. You whine softly through it all, trying to wrap your trembling legs tighter around his head so he could return to what he was doing before. 

“Please, I was about to come…” 

“I know, honey, I’m sorry. I needed to breathe.” He plucks at your nipple, rolling it before returning to your sex. 

This time he alternates between kitten licks and soft kisses on your clit, meant to be soothing. It feels as if he’s grazing a feather on your oversensitive, swelled up nerves. It’s so ticklish that your hips jump to chase after the phantom itch. 

That’s all it takes for the overwhelming waves of pleasure to come crashing down on you. The coil in your belly snaps. Eager as ever, he presses his open and panting mouth against your cunt, moaning against the spasming flesh. Cleaning up the remnants of your climax is only a poor excuse for his lips to linger. He presses a kiss to your thigh before pulling away from between your legs, the slick coating his mouth and chin leaves your skin damp. 

Taking a deep breath, he rises to sit on his knees between your thighs. Your legs drop from his shoulders. Pride fills his chest once he eyes up the litter of love-bites on your flushed skin. His doing. The rapid rise and fall of your chest. Also his doing. 

Through a fucked-out smile, you say, “What? What’s so funny?” 

Unaware that he’s cheesing, he shakes his head. “Nothing, honey. You look so pretty.” 

“I feel nasty, though.” 

He shuts you up with a kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Mm… How about you?” you mumble into the kiss while ruffling his soft hair. 

His hips are grinding against his hand in a faint rhythm, palm stroking up and down slowly. He huffs. “Keep spreading your legs and it won’t take long.” 

Discerning the questioning raise of your brow, he swipes a thumb at the corner of your lip. “I’m not gonna put it in. I know you’re sensitive, baby. Trust me. Please?” 

You wiggle a bit to open your legs further, trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed because the way he kept pinning you has you feeling sores on your butt. “Yeah, okay.” 

Lining himself up against your slit, he hovers his cock above your puffy cunt and keeps stroking. He groans and bucks into his hand, head falling backwards. You whimper and bunch the sheets in your fists. He looks so hot. His hair is chaotically messy, lips swollen and slick, hand working desperately on his cock. Your pussy flutters at the sight. 

Eyes zeroing in on your center, he says, “Show me. Hold yourself open.” 

You reach down and spread yourself for him, shamelessly displaying what he wants. Your hole clenches down on nothing upon the little stretch, pulling another groan out of him. 

He’s grinning, head tilted to the side. “Fuck, that’s it. Like what you see, huh?” 

You nod fast, staring at the movement between your legs. It’s captivating. 

Feeling devious, you lift your hips slightly to touch your pulsing clit to his red tip, directly to his precum-coated slit. Like a featherlight kiss. It sends a pleasurable shock through your entire body, you plop down on the bed again. 

“Oh shit—you…” His expression tells you he’s very close.

Gripping your thigh, he jerks himself to completion against your twitching pussy. Thick spurts of cum coat your center and belly, your thighs get to have their fair share, too. 

A breathless laugh escapes him, like he can’t quite believe what just happened. His gaze softens, as though clearing a daze. “I’m sorry. Let me carry you to the bathroom.”

A quiet shift lingers in the air. 

He’s so silent while massaging shampoo into your hair, cocooned by your arms around his waist, water cascading over his back. His lips are set in a straight line, eyes roaming your face and coming back to meet your gaze every once in a while. 

You and him, in that sacred, safe haven again. 

I can hear you think. He wills you to speak without saying the words. 

“You don’t need to be scared.” 

His hands pause in your hair. Of what? 

“The things you said at the beach yesterday… You don’t need to be scared, Leon. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you,” you continue. 

He pulls you closer, cups the back of your neck and rests your head on his shoulder. I love you. 

“And I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing your face. I miss it terribly when you’re away.” You nudge his neck with your nose. 

He closes his eyes. I love you. 

“Tell me a truth?” you whisper, watching the slow up and down of his Adam’s apple. 

The urge to draw you even closer to himself is too strong. Come, live inside my skin—I’m yours, anyway. Instead, he opens his heavy-lidded eyes, locking his gaze with yours. 

“I love you.” 

With a slow and languid kiss, he seals his lips to yours, weaving your souls together in that tranquil, infinite moment. 

“At times I think of human relationships as something soft like sand or water, and by pouring them into particular vessels we give them shape.”

― Sally Rooney, Beautiful World, Where Are You

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Hellooo! I love love love your writing, you're so incredibly talented!! I just got my period and I'm in so much pain (sorry if it's tmi), but all I have on my mind is Cregan Stark (i'm obsessed) -- so I just got this idea: what if the reader is supposed to do some of her duties in Winterfell, but she just got her period? And besides the pain she's feeling, she's also disappointed she isn't pregnant yet. She doesn't want to tell Cregan how much pain she's in, knowing he's so strong and thinking he would judge her and lose respect for her, so she tries to go on with her duties, but he notices something is wrong. After he talks to her about it, and figures out what's wrong, what if he cancels all the plans of the day just to lay with her and comfort her? And she's shocked he would do something like that for her.

I'm sorry if this made you uncomfortable, and if you don't want to write it, I understand! Thank you so much!!

love love love this... as a girl with painful periods, i just need to be held. i hope i delivered well! wc: 1.2k

warnings: crying, mentions of childbearing, mentions of throwing up and bleeding, cregan is a big softie and loves his wife, cregan stark fucks (implied)

You woke up feeling the cold, empty space next to you. You blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the light. Feeling a sharp pain in your stomach, your hand shot up to it. You swung yourself out of bed quickly, running to the nearest bucket.

Your handmaiden entered just in time to see you throw up. Rushing to your side, she helped you clean up. As she helped to change your clothes, you noticed a red splotch in your small clothes.

A tear ran down your face. You had started bleeding, which meant you weren’t pregnant. For nearly a moon now, you and Cregan tried your hardest to have children, but you can see your efforts had been wasted.

“Are you alright, my lady?”

You were collapsed on the floor, you turned your head to your handmaiden, tears in your eyes, “Tell me, speak freely please… what do you think Cregan will say when he finds out I cannot make an heir for him?”

Your handmaiden was only slightly older than you, but you could tell she was full of knowledge. She was a full northerner, seeing many winters and understanding the life there. She helped to guide you through the customs of the North and had taken up a maternal role in your life.

She came down to your level, sitting down next to you, placing a hand on your back, “You are still young, Lady Stark. You have much time still. Pregnancy does not always come easy. I do not think Lord Stark will see you any differently, he married you for love, not childbearing. He will not see you as any less because you did not become with child very quickly.”

“But what if he decides that there is another lady, a northern lady, more equipped to carry his children? What if he wishes to bed another?”

“Lord Stark is the most loyal man out there. He would not break your oath of marriage because you are not pregnant yet,” she wiped your tears from your face, “You are too in your own head, my lady.”

You nodded, smiling softly, “I suppose you are right, but please do not tell him about my bleeding. I do not want him to know.”

“I think it would be best to tell him—”

“No,” you stood, wiping the dust off your gown, “And that is a command.”

Your lady stood, nodding at your request, “Whatever pleases you, Lady Stark.”

Taking a breath you walked to the doors, “I will continue with my duties today, and you will not speak of what happened this morn.”

“Of course, Lady Stark.”

Every moon you bled, there was lots of pain to follow, mostly in your stomach and sometimes in your lower back. Recently, the pain has gotten worse, almost debilitatingly so. It was not smart of you to take on more than you needed to.

You made your way around Winterfell, trying to fulfil your duties to the best of your abilities. In the kitchens, you oversaw the food preparation. During this, it was the first time the employees of your castle noticed the change in your behavior.

You walked around the kitchen when a sudden sharp pain hit your stomach. You grabbed onto the counter with one hand, and grabbed at your stomach with the other. Your face contorted in pain and a quiet hiss came out of your mouth.

Many rushed to your side, “My lady, are you alright?”

You pushed each one away, feeling the pain subside. Sucking in a sharp breath, you stood straight again, “I am fine.”

Leaving the kitchens quickly you decided to oversee the training yards, hoping not to run into your husband quite yet. You made your way to the ground level, watching a couple small children practice fighting with wooden swords.

You watched them, the slightest hint of pain ghosted along your features. You didn’t notice your husband watching your figure from behind you. He startled you, coming up to hug your waist, inadvertently causing pain to your stomach.

Wincing slightly, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, kissing you gently. You tried your hardest to hide your pain, but Cregan always knows when there is something wrong, to your dismay.

“Is there something amiss, wife?”

You removed his hands from you, turning to face him, and kissing him gently.

“Why would there be? I am here with you.”

He looked at you skeptically, but returned your kiss.

You could not let him find out about your pain, he is the strongest man you know. You feared he might think less of you if he knew of your menial pain, you are sure he has endured much worse beyond the wall or during the wintertimes.

Your husband holds great respect for the strongest of his men, so if he found out about your inability to go on with your daily chores during the time of your bleeding, he might not think you worthy of his love or respect.

“I must go, I have things to tend to around the castle.”

“You cannot take a moment away from your duties to spend with your husband?”

“Cregan, really, I should go.”

He has never seen you so hasty to leave his side. He watched as you nearly ran from him. Instead of staying put he followed behind you, ending the chase at your shared bed chambers.

He entered, nodding at the guards posted outside.

“Why do you run from me?”

You turned, wiping the tears that fell from your face, “Cregan? What are you doing here? I’m sure you have many more important matters—”

“I do not. Tell me what is the matter, my girl.”

“There is nothing,” you stepped away from him and towards your bed, holding your stomach in pain.

He noticed your actions and came to sit on the bed, “Have you started bleeding today?”

You looked away from him, embarrassed. He took you hand, “Do not shy away from me, there is nothing to be embarassed of.”

You turned to meet his eyes, “But it means I am not with child! I cannot bear an heir and I am weak with my pains. I am not deserving to even be near you.”

He looked at you with a largly concered expression, his brows were furrowed so hard they almost touched. He pulled you onto his lap, “Not deserving? If anything, it is I who is not deserving of you. I have seen many men in my times and yet none of them are as strong as you. You are bleeding from the inside and you still are trying to force yourself to do dull tasks.”

He wipes your tears, “Do not fret about carrying our child, we have only been trying for a bit of time now.”

“But I do not want to disappoint you.”

“Nothing could ever make me disappointed in you, my girl. I promise.”

You sniffled, leaning into him, “You should get back to the training yard, I’m sure your men need you more than I.”

“No. We are going to stay here today, I will tell the guards at the door to inform the rest of the castle.”

“Cregan! You cannot!”

“I can do whatever I wish, I am the Warden of the North and the Lord of Winterfell,” he smiled at you lovingly, kissing the tip of your nose.

After discarding his duties for the day, he came and layed with you in bed, snuggling up close. After your week of hells was over, it was safe to say that you did not have to worry about bleeding again for the next nine moons.

————

taglist: @wolvestitches

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

bloody hands. l Joel Miller

Summary:  he didn't expect to find you in such a state

Warnings:  angst, but with a lot of sad moments, guns, knife and blood, two dead bodies, allusion to rape, nervous breakdown

A/N: I had a certain scene in mind and I really wanted to create something around it. something like this came out. scribbles. but I hope you'll be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

and once I wrote that, the thought grew in me to give these two something more... and now i'm unsure what to do with it next. help?

short stories from life. [masterlist]

The sound of the shot echoed through the building and Joel felt a shiver run through his body. He sped up and quickly climbed the next stairs, then headed down the corridor where he could hear the sounds of scuffling and Ellie's screams. Fingers tightened around the handle of the rifle, he pushed the door with his shoe and for a moment he didn't know what was happening.

Ellie was sitting against the wall with terror in her eyes. The body of one of the men was lying on the floor, and the other...

"Shit!" Joel hissed, lowering the barrel of the rifle.

You were breathing heavily, trying to fill your lungs with oxygen. You were still holding the knife in your clenched, bloody hand, sitting astride the body of the other man. Thick blood flooded the floor beneath him, his clothes were soaked in it.

"Hey, it's me."

Terrified eyes found Joel's face, you tried to brush your hair away from your face, but you stained it even more with the man's blood. It seemed that you weren't hurt so Miller quickly looked towards the girl squeezed against the wall.

"Are you okay?"

Ellie nodded and stood up "Those pricks tried to..."

She didn't have to finish. Joel quickly noticed the mess your clothes were in, the unfastened belt buckle on your pants - he knew what could have happened and a shiver ran down his spine again.

"It's over." he choked out and held out his hand to help you up "Let's get out of here."

Despite the daze you were in, you stood up efficiently and quickly gathered your things. You all wanted to leave this cursed place as soon as possible and return to Jackson. A few days of travel separated you from your destination, but at that moment everything seemed to be even further away.

It was already getting dark outside when you managed to find an empty small house near a stream. Joel checked the place out before sinking into the dusty couch with relief. Every muscle in his body ached, and his stomach was increasingly demanding food.

Ellie's footsteps echoed silently across the floor as she visited empty rooms. Joel noticed you after a moment when you brought a bucket of water into the house.

"I want to wash this off myself." You said quietly, seeing his questioning look. Your hands and face were still smeared with dried blood.

"Do you need help? We will eat something soon." he said, but you just shook your head.

"I'm not hungry, thank you." and you quietly closed the bathroom door behind you.

This evening was different, he could clearly feel it. You joined them only after some time, still saying that you weren't hungry, you sat on the couch, pulling your legs up and wrapping yourself in an old blanket. There were no evening conversations between you and Ellie, although the girl tried to pull you in, you were strangely absent.

Joel saw it all, he knew you so well. You had walked together not only many miles, but also many dangerous situations. This time, however, everything was different, and that worried him.

He didn't know what had woken him up in the night and only after a short while did he realize that it was the splash of water and... crying. 

He looked around the dark room, Ellie was fast asleep on the couch, but your place was empty. Joel threw off the blanket and quietly made his way towards the bathroom, the door was ajar. 

The night was cloudless and the moonlight reflected off the once white tiles, dimly illuminating the interior. First he saw your clothes thrown somewhere on the floor, and after a moment...

"Sweet Jesus." he whispered, slipping inside and closing the door behind him.

You were sitting naked in a bathtub half filled with water. The water was freezing cold, because Joel could clearly see how you were shaking, but it could also have been intensified by the crying.

"What are you doing here, sweetie?" he whispered, crouching by the edge and placing his hand on your back, "Fuck, you're so cold. Get out of here."

Your arms were wrapped around your knees, your damp hair was sticking to your face, and you were still sobbing quietly.

"I can't wash it off, Joel..." you groaned, your throat hurting so much that you could barely say the next words, "My hands... I can still see it..."

He took your icy hands in his warm ones, "They're clean, look. How long have you been sitting here? You shouldn't… Come on, I'll help you."

"But my hands..."

"Sweetie, everything's fine. You're fine. C'mon." He grabbed you carefully by the waist, noticing with despair how cold you were, you must have been sitting in the water for a long time.

He noticed an old towel on the floor and quickly wrapped it around you. Your body was shaking, but you didn't seem to feel it. All of this made Joel feel even more afraid for you. He didn't expect this, he didn't expect you to snap at such a moment. But maybe it awaits everyone sooner or later?

This was surprising to him. You were always tough, you didn't lose your cool quickly and Joel was sure that when you said "I've got your back." you always did it right. Now, however, he held in his arms such a fragile version of you that his heart broke with each of your quickened breaths.

This wasn't something you deserved, certainly not you. You grounded him, helped him not to go crazy. He probably never told you how important you were to him, how your presence soothed his heart and mind. How much he liked it when you fell asleep and your head fell lightly on his shoulder, how he felt more confident when you grabbed his hand. You always did it at the perfect moment, when fear began to take control of his body. Your fingers would intertwine tightly with his and then you would take control.

"You're shaking all over." he mumbled as he sat down on the floor with you, his hands rubbing your shoulders hard. "Why did you come here?"

Doe eyes found him, your eyelids were red from crying. "I couldn't sleep." you whispered. "I could still feel him on me. His breath, his hands, and then his blood... I was so scared."

"I know, I know..."

"I wasn't afraid for myself, but for Ellie." Joel swallowed hard. "I couldn't... She didn't deserve this. She shouldn't have seen this."

Strong hands grabbed your face tenderly. "You saved her. You did what you had to."

"I slaughtered them like pigs, Joel..." you groaned, your voice breaking. "What kind of person am I? I'm no different from them. I didn't expect something like this to be inside me... I'm scared, Joel."

He knew exactly what you were talking about. It was something he had been pushing out of his head for years, and in the meantime you had cracked. You were made from different, better clay.

"Listen to me." he finally spoke, his thumbs tenderly stroking your cheeks. "You're a good person, but sometimes you have to do bad things to save the ones you love, right? Don't blame yourself for this, you had no other choice. If it weren't for you, you'd both be dead by now." you closed your eyes as if his words were soothing you "We've been through so much together. I know what you're like, you're definitely not a bad person. You're good...and gentle...caring... and sensitive...understanding...patient..."

"Please..."

“I wish I could meet you in better times." he added quietly "I'd gladly take you to a cozy restaurant, or to the cinema to see some terrible movie."

You quietly burst out laughing, and a faint smile appeared on his lips. He wasn't lying.

Joel had long imagined how it all could have looked if nothing bad had happened, if your paths had crossed at a different moment and time. These dreams, however, were pushed far to the fringes of his mind, because they gave him nothing more than a sense of injustice and helplessness.

"I can't imagine you in a place like that." You said quietly.

"I definitely wouldn't take a gun there, you know." He snorted, and you smiled. "But everything else... I think I could surprise you."

"You think so?" His hands slid down, one of them now lying loosely on your thigh, stroking it lightly, the other brushing wet strands of hair away from your face. "I think I like the idea. It seems so...safe."

"I'll do anything to keep you safe. You know that, right?"

You nodded. "I guess I should get dressed. If Ellie woke up and found us like this..."

"Right, right." You both stood up from the floor, and you reached for your clothes. "If you need help..."

"Thank you, Joel. You've done a lot already."

A weak smile appeared on your face, but he knew it was costing you a lot. So he left, letting you get dressed in peace.

A strange feeling filled his heart the moment he lay back down, in his already cold spot. He felt a small spark of happiness and hope when he held you in his arms, but at the same time anger and sadness that you could only dream of such nice moments together. The world had taken everything you could have had together, and you could only dream of it on the cold tiles of a dirty bathroom in a house in the middle of nowhere. It was so unfair.

Quiet footsteps announced that you had returned to the room, and after a moment you laid down next to Joel.

"Feeling better?" he asked in a whisper, you nodded "If you need anything..."

"Can you hug me? Just for a moment, please..."

It wasn't a request, just a plea. Joel mumbled a quiet "C'mere." and after a while he felt your body next to his. He clung to your back, wrapping his arm tightly around your waist. But your hand found his again, your fingers intertwined and you brought it closer to your face, kissing the top of it.

"Thank you, Joel. For everything." You whispered.

And he buried his face in your hair, squeezing his eyes shut. He kissed your head and deep in his heart he regretted that this was all he could give you. And you deserved so much more.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[starshipsofstarlord]

locked away

summary. whilst hiding out from walkers in a closet, you grow extremely bored. the only thing to do is daryl, but you have to make sure he stays quiet

warnings. smut, handjob, sub!daryl, dom!reader, praising, mentions of gagging, crying

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

The aroma of cigarette smoke that clung addictively to his clothes filled your nostrils as you hid in union together, avoiding the stream of deadly walkers that marched in their haphazard staggering through the wide hallway. There had been worse that you survived through, so as long as you didn’t alert the parasites that filled the decayed human bodies of your presence, you would be fine.

Boredom struck you after the first hour of leaning all of your weight against the chipped brick wall, listening without consent to the groans and growls of the dangerous passers-by. If you had a nickel for each time you expressively rolled your eyes that had adjusted to the shadows which conjured a graphite colouring to which you could see, you would be astoundingly rich in a world without cash currency.

You had an impulse to blabber out the most random thoughts that appeared intrusively in your mind, although you were sure if you dared to your beloved Daryl would gag your mouth with that dirty red rag and tell you to shut up; and it wouldn’t be a first time for that. Your shoulders slumped defeatedly as the pressing circumstances of the long and drawn out waiting game refused to come to an end.

How many goddamn walkers were out there? Actually that was an answer you’d rather not find out whilst you were contained in a narrow closet which was consumed with lacklustre silence. Daryl wouldn’t even meet your eyes in the dark space, sternly pent up from your antics during the run that had lead you into being entrapped by your own free will and vigilance to live another day. He was pissed, and worst of all in this circumstance; turned on.

His pools of pitiful blue distinctly avoided your gaze, trying his darnest to focus on the stakes that were against you both. But he was pursued by a cloaking of consuming lust, his shoulders rigid as he thought repeatedly of your earlier words. If you’re a good boy, then maybe we’ll have some fun before we get home. It wasn’t likely to happen now, the bowman thought intuitively, sharply discarding the sweet images of pleasing you from his brain.

These walkers were preying risk to more than just his life, he felt like he could explode from the overbearing desire to feel your hands rake upon his entire body, and he mentally cursed as he felt his cock spring to life at just the the sinful thought. He grunted in solitary longing, pacing with light and feline like steps as much as he could in the limited ground that was cemented in the storage room.

“Something wrong?” You almost inaudibly spoke, cocking your head as the corners of your mouth twitched in mocking amusement, and he would have whined in response if there wasn’t the threat of the passing walkers merely inches away. “Come here, let me help you baby.” His head was lowered in a submissive bow as he followed your command, creeping towards you until your chests were all but touching.

It was something you adored, to see Daryl in such a state, and it made you feel powerful without any limits. The flow of your bloodstream began to pound with revelations with what you could make your obedient man disperse himself to. It was like he was a buffet of possibilities, however his arousal was rubbing against your thigh, making you recall his desperation, and it would be satire and cruel for you to allow him to suffer without your amorous caregiving.

You shuffled, keeping a balance on your body weight so that you didn’t accidentally stagger backwards into the buckets or moulding mops that were leant against the wall to your left, as you lowered your hands to his wide hips, giving him an affectionate squeeze before you turned him in your embrace so that his back was facing your front.

Admittedly there were times where you loved to listen to him beg and cry for lustrous attention, but now was not the time; neither one of you could make so much as a speck of noise, it was going to be difficult as often times Daryl would draw out long and pathetically attractive moans each time you held contact with his cock in any manner, but he would just have to be quiet somehow, and if he couldn’t control himself, you had ideas of how to make him.

“Be a good boy.” You whispered with sultry warning in his ear as you reached further around him, slowly and tantalisingly unweaving his belt, pulling the strip of leather through the flimsy loops which granted you access to undo the button and fly of his trousers. With swift motions you did so, carefully shoving them down his sides as his cock was released from its containment. It was leaking defiantly with precum, and he resorted to calming breaths as he steadied his own self into being relaxed despite the nearby danger.

He inhaled immediately as he felt one of your hands wrap perfectly around his achingly hard length, gliding up and down the taught and erect flesh which made him throw his long locked head back in pleasure. His eyelids twitched as he fought against his desire to let you know how utterly amazing you were making him feel, as he bit his own bottom lip over and over. You dared to increase the pace in which you were stroking him, and a shattered gasp tumbled past his bared teeth.

Without so much as a thought, you smothered his mouth with your hand, pinching his nose a couple of times between your thumb and forefinger to restrain the oxygen he was permitted for a few seconds. A vibration riveted against your palm, as a quiet moan was silenced by your restriction. His whole body was rattling, as he began to rut his hips so that his cock was moving in the grasp of your soft hand.

“Such a good baby.” Your breath hit his ear as you forbade yourself from saying anything else, knowing that it would be obscenely dangerous, and the hoard of vacantly minded walkers were more than capable of pushing through the locked door. Your thumb rubbed expertly against his tip, as tears began to fill Daryl’s eyes, however he continued to jerk into your grip, and soon they fled from his tear ducts. His salt water, pleasure filled tears rolled onto your hand, weaving across your flesh as his tongue rolled pathetically around your palm, losing any grounding to reality that he had.

It drove you on farther, moving your hand at a quicker pace to make him spill over the edge, and with one last tough tug, he expelled his seed from his balls, it shooting directly in the air for a moment, and landing vividly on the ground. Daryl continued to shake like a leaf, breathing a kind kiss to your palm as he held your hand against his mouth for a while longer. This was definitely an interesting tale, however you would never tell anybody else. Everyone else thought Daryl was the being of all dominance in your relationship, and it made you inwardly cackle at how wrong you were.

He was as submissive as a human could come (pun intended), and he stood there idly and cautiously as you aided him in tucking his cock back into his confines. You grappled his belt, pulling it back around into its holding as you pulled it tightly around his waist, your eyes glowing with the satisfaction that you could make him so easily crumble. With one last pat to his sensitive bulge, you waited a while longer, until the coast was clear and it was only a few stragglers of the herd to take out in order to make your unruly escape.

[gingerhastoomanyobsessions]

the lords in black are so interesting to me because. they’re so us. we’re watching the citizens of hatchetfield suffer for our own entertainment just as much as they are. we’re their accomplices in all of it

pokotho made hatchetfield into a musical because musicals are entertaining. and we ate that shit up! it’s soooo fun watching a little man scramble as the world around him bursts into song. the musical genre is satirized because pokey knows how the genre conventions work just as well as we do. we like watching musicals so much that black friday and npmd are musicals, too, even though they don’t revolve around pokotho’s plans as much as tgwdlm. we want them to sing. pokotho does too.

bliklotep is the audience and the audience is bliklotep. trail to oregon calls the audience “the watcher with one thousand eyes” and that’s not all, in watcher world blinky seems to be able to see through the eyes of anyone and everyone who loves spectacle. he wants to see the characters go through angst because WE love angst. it’s fun to watch alice and bill express their buried frustrations. blinky wants it to end in bloodshed because he loves tragedy, and let’s face it, so do we. it’s like that one post about how hamlet is aware of the audience and is angry that we don’t do anything to intervene because we want to see how it plays out. personally, I think blinky could have stopped the woodwards if he really wanted (he’s an elder god, after all) but alice shooting him shifted the narrative so that the emotional payoff would be more fulfilling if they escaped. and blinky loves a good story.

t’noy karaxis has blorbos. we joke about it, but that’s really what it is, isn’t it? he’s the fan who watches the movie again and again and again and again to see his favorite character’s dramatic death scene. he’s the guy who writes and reads angst fics by the hundreds because he likes to see his faves cry. he’s the hatchetfield enjoyer who’s on the edge of their seat waiting to see how ted kicks the bucket this time. the bastard’s box is pretty much just an ao3 account filled with whump and hurt no comfort. he’s sadistic AND he genuinely adores ted, because we fans are often cruelest to the characters we love the most. he puts ted through character growth— the realization that his life went the way it did because of his own mistakes, his inability to be vulnerable with jenny before it was too late— and he does that by writing a 56-chapter angst fic that’s still updating to this day

nibblenephim is the fan who voraciously devours every scrap of content that a creator produces and demands more, more, more. let’s face it, the fandom will never let starkid rest until we see this story through to its end. and then someone will demand a sequel series. nibbly is hungry because we will never stop yearning for more stories. he’s simple because that desire itself is simple— as humans, we need creativity like we need air to breathe. nibbly wants more because we want more. and we will never be satiated.

wiggog y’rath is the ruler and the king because he’s the self-inserting writer. I think jon matteson plays paul *and* wiggly for a reason— wiggly is the only lord in black to be played by the same actor in every single show, and that actor also plays the protagonist of tgwdlm. wiggly wants to be the protagonist. he tries to force himself into the human world of hatchetfield because he wants to participate, dammit! he wants to be the bestest ruler that the earth has ever seen! everyone has to love him because he’s going to be their bestest fwiend! when he appears in human form he’s gonna be the prom king! he’s the ebony dark’ness dementia raven way of the hatchetfield multiverse. he wants every human character to bend to his whims and to love him and to put him at the tippy-top of planet earth because he’s the writer and the writer’s main character, you fuckheads, and he can make whatever story he wants, whether the other characters like it or not! if you’ve ever written a self-insert story? congratulations! you’ve been wiggog y’rath.

and the funny thing? I don’t think the lords know that they, too, are as fictional as anyone else in hatchetfield. maybe blinky knows— he sees through the audience’s eyes, after all— but I don’t think the others do. if they did, maybe they’d be a little less tyrannical. a little bit nicer.

but then the starkid writers wouldn’t have much of a story to tell, would they?

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Boo

Prompt: You end up taking Jack and your daughter trick or treating while Aaron is stuck at work.

Note: I know this Halloween inspired prompt is a little belated but the amount of fluff is worth it. 🥰

“I want that one!” your daughter yelled, grabbing the bigger candy bucket from Jack’s hands. A frown appeared on his face but he seemingly held himself back from acting out. The little 8 year old had way more patience than you did at his age, clearly taking after Aaron’s constant calm and controlled demeanor.

“Hey,” you spoke, crouching down to her level. “Jackers is your brother and you need to be nice to him. We don’t yell and take things away from each other.” She looked back and forth from him to you, an expression of disapproval evident. “Why don’t you try asking him nicely if you can have the bigger bucket, ok?”

You and Jack waited as she stayed silent, clearly struggling with the idea to be polite. Finally, she turned to Jack and spoke. “Can I have Jack?”

He looked over at you and then to the smaller identical bucket by her feet. “Yeah, ok.”

You sighed in relief and gave them both a big smile. For a second, you thought there was gonna be a tantrum happening before you even got a chance to trick or treat but luckily Jack came to your rescue, being the bigger man.

“See, wasn’t that nicer than yelling at Jack?” She just nodded, avoiding eye contact, probably embarrassed that she was in the wrong. “Ok, now let’s go get some candy!”

Like a switch, they were both back to being happy and excited as they ran to the door. You grabbed both of their jackets that you knew they were gonna want later on as well as your little tumbler of wine. That was your treat for the night.

Before leaving the house, you came over to Jack and plopped a king sized Snickers bar in his bucket, giving him a wink and smile once he noticed. He pretended to zip his lips shut and throw away the key, making you laugh.

The first couple of house went smoothly, your daughter clutching onto Jack most of the time, not convinced with the suspicious looking decorations outside of some of the houses. You sent a picture of the two of them to Aaron, knowing he’d want to see how they were doing even if he couldn’t be there.

Aaron: They look adorable. How far have you gotten?

You: Still on our street, but making great headway. Jack is excited to get to Wicker street where he knows they give out the bigger candy.

Aaron: Smart boy. I see he let his sister have the bigger bucket.

You: Yeah, he handled it very well. Reminded me a lot of his father. (;

Aaron: Love to hear that. Gotta go but I love you.

You: Love you too.

You put your phone away just as you heard your daughter scream and watch as she made a beeline for you, leaving Jack in the dust. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?" you asked bending down. She looked absolutely terrified as tears began streaming down her face and the little tiara on her head struggled to stay attached. Instead of answering, she just pointed over to the porch that she had just ran from. You knew then what she was referring to when you saw the dog dressed as a big spider. It took everything in you not to laugh out loud.

"Oh honey, it's a just a doggy. He's dressed up for Halloween just like you." You brushed the hair out of her eyes while she continued crying, completely unconvinced that the dog was not a gigantic spider there to eat her and waited as Jack came back over. He inspected the scene before him, obviously aware of what happened and proceeded to pull a pack of gummy worms out from his bucket of goodies.

"Here. I got you worms," he offered, forcing the candy into her hand. Just like that, the crying stopped immediately as she played with the package, trying to figure out how to open it.

"That was so nice of your brother. Can you say thank you sweetie?"

"Thank you," she repeated. You gave Jack a ruffle on his head and pulled him in for a hug. He was literally the sweetest boy you knew.

"Alright, Jack. You want to lead the way to the next street?" He shook his head in excitement and wasted no time in showing you the way.

After walking up to the first house and receiving two big chocolate bars, he was practically racing to the next house for more.

"Not so fast Jack, stay close." you told him, scanning your surroundings, knowing anything could happen. Your daughter followed in step with you, busy gnawing on some gummy candy that you were sure was gonna end up keeping her up all night. Just before you all reached the next house, someone caught your eye. The tall figure was a bit far away but became increasingly clearer, the closer you got. Jack was the first to identify him.

"Daddy!"

You watched him run ahead and into the arms of your husband, who was still dressed in his work attire. In that moment, you were entirely grateful to the Bureau for their strict dress code. The dress pants, FBI windbreaker, and holstered weapon had you thinking all kinds of dirty scenarios in your head you'd like to play out with him but for the sake of your toddler children, you decided to indulge your fantasies later.

You and your daughter walked over, a gentle smile on your lips as he set Jack down to give her a hug. "Well this is a pleasant surprise." you greeted, giving him a kiss once he came back up.

“Case wrapped up sooner than expected. Figured the team could use an early night considering the occasion."

You pulled him in for another kiss, this time, a slightly longer and deeper, earning a curious hum from him. "What was that for?"

Absentmindedly, you played with his tie and looked up at his boyish expression. "I just really like your Halloween costume."

Being the ever observant special agent he was, it didn't take long for him to understand what you meant as a knowing smirk played on his lips. "I see."

"Daddy, up," your daughter demanded while pulling on his pant leg, interrupting the moment.

“Of course sweetheart.” He propped her up on his hip and gave you one last look before turning his attention to them. “Lead the way Batman,” Aaron spoke to Jack in his costume.

All of you followed after the young boy, it not taking long for both of their candy buckets to fill up and their sugar high to come crashing down. Your daughter had fallen asleep in Aaron’s arms on the walk back and Jack walked hand in hand with you, his pace a lot slower than earlier.

Once in the house, you helped Jack separate his candy while Aaron put your daughter down for bed. "The Twix are my favorite. Dad can have the pretzels and you can have the lollipops," he offered, pushing the less interesting candy towards you.

“Alright. I’ll keep all of your candy in a very secure safe place,” you reassured him, putting his little pile into a ziplock bag. “Why don’t you go get changed into your pj’s and brush your teeth.”

He listened without a fuss, a tired yawn making its way out of his mouth as he shuffled down the hall, passing by his dad who gave him a high five.

You watched him make his way over to you, a playful glint in his eye, his arms snaking their way around your waist before he placed a gentle kiss against your neck. "I thought I could run us a bath. Maybe give you a massage afterwards." His murmured words sent a shiver through you, your body reacting immediately. You turned to face him, your hands slowly pulling down on his jacket zipper, your eyes locked with his.

Leaning in, his lips met yours with a burning passion you loved. Like that was the last kiss he'd ever have. His hand cradled your head, fingers entwining in your hair and as he stepped closer, the faint smell of cologne from that morning still lingered on his clothes, overstimulating your senses. Your hands rested themselves on his torso, grabbing at the fabric, wanting nothing more than to rip it right off his body as his breath hitched, telling you he felt the same way.

"Daddy!" Jack called from down the hall, bringing the both of you back down to earth. He was probably waiting for his nightly bedtime story you made sure to give him, all cuddled up in his bed, surrounded by his numerous stuffies and dressed in his Batman pajamas.

You pulled away from Aaron, his eyes dark and filled with desire.

"Wait for me," he spoke lowly, stepping back from you before heading towards Jack's room, ready to give the shortest bedtime story ever.

[guppybibi]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 | How does the TF141 love? (as food!)

John Price loves like a plate of carbonara 𓐐

It's one of the most beloved Italian pasta dishes out there, just like how he loves you the most! It's a simple dish yet it's hard to perfect, but you learn not to make the same mistakes afterwards. That's what's so nice about it, it isn't perfect. It never is, but even that is something to be cherished. Some of the choices made are questionable to say the least but he doesn't question them any further, he was one of your choices after all. (i have no idea how this connects to carbonara but do u see my vision, the choices are like ingredients..) Spaghetti is the most common pasta to be used in carbonara, outshining the less frequently used rigatoni & bucatini. And who can blame them? It's a timeless classic, a staple. (Just like you two;3) Spaghetti was notably long as well before shorter lengths gained some popularity! You know what else is long? Your prosperous relationship together! (Let's not talk about the creamy sauce.)

Simon Riley loves like a box of chocolates 🍫

It's assorted too! White, milk, dark, name it all! It's no problem-o! It's a surprise in every bite, or swallow but please chew your food. It's a whole new experience every time, it's thrilling. It could be filled with delectable chocolatey sauce, oozing out once you take the first bite! It's sweetness overload, reminding you of the sweet moments you and him have together. Then, the next chocolate has..nuts! Yum, these are a teensy weensy harder to chew especially if you have the teeth of a grandma..Like how it was just a little bit hard to get Simon to open up, to let you in. But sometimes the chocolates disappoint and have a hollow inside :C

John MacTavish loves like a bucket of popcorn🍿

Corn was domesticated in Mexico, a memorable place for Johnny to say the least. A lot happened there..During the early years, it was popped by hand but as we can see now it's popped by machines. How is that significant? Well, it shows how your relationship evolves. It's being nurtured like a little baby by the two of you after all! It gets more efficient, the both of you doing your own part in smoothing the bumps along the road. It's often eaten at movie theaters and sporting events, and what do those places have in common with this man? One word, fun! (This or he could also be pop rocks to be honest idk)

Kyle Garrick loves like a bowl of strawberries 🍓

A strawberry flower averages 5-7 petals according to a website, if you do the 'he loves me, he loves me not' game–you'll always land on the love one! (He purposely takes out the ones with 6 petals, or he plucks them off individually.) Or if he doesn't have time to do all of that, you guys resort to 'he loves me, he loves me lots' because that's just the wholehearted truth! Though strawberries don't always taste as good as they seem, no? Especially if they're out of season, yuck! Again, there's always some sour ones in the batch, but it's no use crying about it. So, you and him just fix it!

[httpsghostie]

Beneath the Surface

Part one

Part two

A/N: First post! English isn't my first language so I'm sorry in advance if there's anything wrong with the writing.

Can't stop thinking about this man, it's unhealthy at this point

Brought you something filthy, hope you enjoy

Requests are open and appreciated!

Summary: Simon, your father's best friend, shows up in the middle of the night to give you a shoulder to put your legs head on.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader, unprotected sex (don't b silly wrap your weenie), p in v, implied age gap, choking, breeding kink (?

masterlist

NSFW below the cut

It had been an exhausting day and you felt like everything just decided to go wrong, all in one day. It started small, your sleeve getting caught in the door handle when you were cleaning the house, then it became a snowball. Accidentally hitting your foot on the corner of the bed, stumbling on the bucket and falling over it, spilling the dirty water all over the floor. At the end of the day you were overwhelmed, even the shower decided not to work properly, and you couldn't stand being near anything that could breathe. 

But there you were, endlessly trying to achieve the perfect eyeliner look because your college friends wanted to party. Failed attempts and sore eyelids lead you to a breakdown, and your attempts were soon washed away by your tears. Everything was too much and you just wanted a good night of sleep on a simple friday night. You sobbed in the bathroom as you tried to calm down, but your eyes were puffy and your face was swollen. The makeup was left on the bathroom sink and you went straight to your room to put on something more comfortable. 

Your parents weren't home, somehow when your dad was around he'd take your mom on late night dates. Simon, on the other hand, didn't have a wife or kids to come home to, and being your father's best friend, you probably saw the man even more than you saw your dad. He was almost always around when he was deployed, he had the keys to your parents house and he'd just show up. 

That wasn't exactly the best moment for him to appear in your living room when he realized the scream you let out. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare 'ya" he said. The room was lit by the TV screen and hopefully he wouldn't see your crying face. You sigh and walk to the kitchen, looking for something to eat, you end up making some popcorn and when you sneakily try to go straight back to your room, a cold hand grabs your arm. 

"Spit it out" he said. He knew you, usually you were happy and outgoing around him, and now you were just irritated and, of course, he couldn't comprehend. Your father didn't know but you were really close to Simon, he was kinda the cool uncle while your actual dad was strict and kind of annoying sometimes, Simon really made your high school years better just by being around when he could. 

"Not your business" you said, storming out. He followed your steps to your room, where you sat down on the bed and pulled a blanket over your legs, the bag of popcorn on your lap. He stood by the door frame, leaning against it, arms crossed as he eyed you. 

"Someone's grumpy" he tsked. "Come on, love, tell me what's wrong" he said as he came into the room and closed the door behind him. Something about him calling you love always caught you off guard, but now that you were in fact an adult with full knowledge of your feelings and needs, it made your stomach flip. 

"Nothing, Simon" you rolled your eyes at him as he sat in front of you on the bed. He made you a confused frown and laid a gentle hand on your knee. You could never keep things from him, his gaze burned you inside whenever he felt you were lying. "Just.. bad day, ok?" You sigh. 

"Bad day, huh?" You felt him mocking, but you couldn't care. "Elaborate." It felt so stupid to be angry because all the small things went wrong during the day, when you knew he had bigger problems to deal with in whatever army life he signed up for. 

"Everything went wrong today," you start, "I don't know, everything was either irritating me or hurting me, I even spilled the dirty water on me and the clean floor-" he cuts you off, laughing, you give him a killing stare. He holds the bridge of his nose and makes a disgusted face. 

"Have you showered?" His mood lightens you up and you chuckle, pushing him playfully. 

"Yes, I've showered." You say. "Cold shower, by the way." 

"What's wrong with the shower?" He asks and you shrug. "Aye I'll take a look at it later, 'k?" You nod. "Anything else that's bothering you?" God, it's like he could see through you. 

"I was going out with my friends," you explain shyly, "I couldn't finish my makeup and got frustrated, so I texted them saying I was sick." 

"And are you?" He tilts his head at you, you shake your head. "Why did you lie then, huh?" 

"Look I don't need a lecture on what to do, alright, Si? I just need to rest." The bag of popcorn on your lap became cold when you first took a handful to eat. 

"Want a massage?" He smirked. Of course you wanted a massage from those big, calloused hands of his that would fit perfectly around your neck. You stared at his hand and bit your lower lip, nodding. 

He gently pulled the blanket down from your legs and adjusted himself. You turned the TV on and he started to massage your feet. You let out a soft whimper as he ran his fingers against your skin, just now noticing how he shifted uncomfortably under your calves. 

Of course there was one more thing your dad didn't know: how touchy his best friend was with his daughter. You could say it was because he was a skirt chaser, or probably just touch starved, but the explanation didn't matter when his hand was traveling up your thigh under a blanket when you and your family were trying to watch a movie together. It was never more than this though, occasional touches that left you aching for him, hot and bothered. 

A movie played on the screen as he continued to massage your feet. There was something so sexual about him, the flexing muscles on his arm, his chest going up and down with his breathing, the growing bulge on his pants you could feel with your ankle and made a pool of arousal on your panties. 

Your shorts were... well, short, and he couldn't help but stare at you while you closed your eyes and imagined that monster of a man pinning you down and fucking you rough. More hums and soft whimpers escaped from your throat and they were going straight to Simon's dick. A malicious hand caressed your inner thigh and you opened your eyes with a confused, but hopeful look. He wasn't looking at you, and your stomach dropped when you saw a sex scene playing on the screen. You close your legs unsubconsciously and he looks at you. 

"'M sorry, love" he takes his hand off your thigh and chuckles. The nickname sent you over the edge, something snapping inside of you. He feels the way you shiver and how tense you seem, so he takes that bag of barely touched popcorn and places it by the bedside table and then land a warm hand on your waist. "What's on your mind, princess?" 

Well, nothing besides him naked, wasn't it obvious? But you couldn't say that, your mind was racing back and forth, and when you were unable to form a believable sentence, he caught you staring for too long. 

"Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled as his fingers traced circles on your waist. You can't remember the last time he tried doing this to you, but you know damn right you should've taken the chance to get laid, but God was it hard to understand this man. He'd tease you and pretend it was nothing, he'd leave you begging for him and say he couldn't touch you. Sometimes you just wanted to punch him for that. 

And yes, you found other ways to get satisfied. Got yourself a boyfriend during recess when neither Simon or your dad were around to pester the poor guy. But eventually they came home from wherever they were, and your father wasn't exactly happy about it, nor Simon, in fact, Simon was even more pissed than your dad. 

You couldn't say how many minutes you spent eyeing the man in front of you, but he grew impatient. The hand on your waist was gone and now spreading your legs to his liking, his body now towering over you. 

"If you don't tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours I'm gonna have to find out for myself." He said in a low, seductive voice. 

You gave in. Your hands grabbed the back of his neck and you kissed him feverly, a sloppy, wet kiss, he pressed his body onto yours and you could feel how hard he was on your lower body. But Simon was eager, he couldn't wait for it anymore, he needed to be inside of you. 

He yanked your shorts off, throwing it somewhere across the room, you also took his shirt off, revealing his perfect toned muscles and the scars that adorned it. He unbuckled his belt with one hand as the other one successfully removed your shirt. He didn't even bother taking his pants off, he just pushed them and his boxers down enough to let his dick free. He aligned it with your wet cunt, smearing your arousal all around your folds. 

"'S fucking wet already, huh?" He rubbed two fingers on your clit as he jerked himself off with his spare hand. "Can't imagine what you were thinking 'bout" he smirked. 

He put his tip on your entrance, looking at you for a sign of approval. You nod. He slowly pushed his length inside of you until it bottomed out. You clenched around him as you moaned. His body started moving faster as you adjusted to his size. He was big, you've felt it before with your hands, but you've never actually seen it. 

"Fuck, Si," you moan, "faster." You sounded like a desperate whore and he enjoyed it. You weren't exactly used to him not teasing you until you were on the verge of tears, so when he started to pound into you, you couldn't hold your moans. 

"Needy little slut." He grabbed your hips in place, almost using you like a fleshlight. He groaned, his chest rising with the heavy breathing. Fuck, that man was hot. 

His hands let go of your hips and held the back of your knees, so you were spreading even more. He watched as his dick abused your swollen and wet cunt, and he could cum just at the sight of his pretty princess getting ruined by his fat cock. You felt the cold metal on his belt hit the back of your thighs as he gave you deep thrusts. 

One of his hands traveled to your folds, his thumb drawing circles on your sensitive clit. As he was fucking your brains out, you dig your nails on his shoulders and earned a few moans along with a smirk. 

You were both really close when you heard a car park in the driveway, your eyes widened at Simon as he didn't seem to have listened to the sound of your parents getting home. 

"Fuck, Simon, my parents" you tried to push him away but his grip on you got stronger. He placed both of his hands on your neck and squeezed it. 

"Shut up" he whispered, not altering his pace. "Cum f' me, love" he demanded. Your hand rubbed your clit as he fucked you even harder. It was impossible to hold it back anymore and you reached your climax under him, your legs shaking from the overstimulation of his non-stopping thrusts. You heard the front door getting open. "'M gonna fill this pretty cunt of yours, huh? 'S that what you want?" He whispered in your ear. You could only slightly nod. "Good girl." He gave you a few more deep, shaky thrusts as he spilled his load into you and pulled out. 

"Y/n? We're home" you heard your mom shout from downstairs. Simon quickly pulled his pants up and put his shirt back on, throwing you your shorts that were across the room, tossed on the ground. He quickly got out and went to the bathroom, pretending he was fixing the shower. 

"Simon?" Your dad shouted in a worried and anxious tone, he obviously saw his friend's car in the driveway, and what was his friend doing here in the night when his daughter was alone? 

"Here" he shouted back from the bathroom, your dad ran upstairs to check if everything was alright and found Simon trying to fix the shower. 

"Everything alright? Heard noises" your dad asked. 

"Y/n gave me a call, she wanted to shower but apparently the shower wasn't working" you overheard Simon explain. He stepped out, turned it on and let the water run for a bit. "It's working now." 

You have absolutely no clue what the fuck he did with the shower in such a short period of time, but the effort was well appreciated. He tried to excuse himself out, but your dad insisted for him to stay the night. You waited in your room until your parents went to bed to get out, the back of your thighs were marked from his belt and your neck was red from his grip, not to mention the oozing cum on your thighs that your panties and shorts weren't able to hold. 

Simon was in the guest room when he heard you walk to the bathroom to get yourself cleaned, and of fucking course he wouldn't let you do it alone, he's finally got a taste of you after all these years holding back and he won't stop until he's fucking his cum inside you again as the running water muffles the sounds of how good he makes you feel.

[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period

Edit: Hey guys, I got this idea for some reason and was thinking of making it into a series, so let me know if you enjoy it and want a part two :)

Pt II • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V • Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII

*** You weren’t one to put out, always waiting for the one person who made you feel special. But you never seemed to feel that, except for when you were with Jungkook. He made you special, he made you happy, he made you feel loved. Maybe giving yourself to him was your mistake, but how could you not? He looked so handsome with his piercings and tattoos. That’s where you should’ve known what you did was a mistake. Sleeping with him was never on your bucket list, sure you’d thought about it before, but you never intended for anything to actually happen. It felt good, it always did, but the pain of being pushed out always pained you after. Mistakes get made, but this one hurt too much.

Sobbing on the bathroom floor was something you’d never wanted to do when it came to a guy. But seeing him with that girl hurt, way too much. Why weren’t you used to this yet? It’s happened before, get used to it. “He doesn’t deserve your tears, Y/N, please stop crying…” Lindsay, your friend, pleaded. She’d been here when it first happened, the other hundred times it had happened, and now. Maybe you were the stupid one for never taking her advice. Now, you hated calling anything stupid, nothing was stupid. There was always reason for something being one way and not the other, but you were just stupid for how many times you’d fallen for his tricks. Tattoos make a story when on your skin, most of the time. The story behind your tattoo was that you’d fallen for a handsome tattoo artist, letting him sweep you off your feet, wine and dine you and then fuck you. Big mistake. It’s almost funny how many mistakes you’ve made with him. Going the day after to get your tattoo finished was not the happy ending you were expecting, instead finding a woman walk out of his office looking drunk off of sex. Just like you did. He apologized, wine and dined you, then fucked you again. The same thing happened. Something wasn’t clicking, stay away from him; he’s bad for you; he’s using you; all things you should’ve listened to, but didn’t. That was on you, you decided to keep going back and keep getting your heart broken. That was until now, countless nights of crying about him, going back to him, waiting for him to call and use you again, you were done.

Wiping your tears for the last time, you wouldn’t let this man or any man make you cry like that ever again. That was a promise. ***

“Are you ever gonna get that tattoo finished?” Lindsay asked as she placed the bowl of popcorn between you two. It was Wednesday night, your scheduled movie night. “I think it would look really cool actually completed.”

You placed some popcorn in your mouth, thinking for a moment, “I don’t know…I think it looks kinda cool now!” Placing the blanket over your legs, you looked at your shoulder, a half finished tattoo of a skeleton hand holding a rose.

“Girl, don’t lie, you need to get it finished. Please? I’ve been looking at it for so long, I can’t stand it anymore! How are you not annoyed it’s only half done?!” She was adamant about making you get it finished, partially because she wanted you to go back to rub it in Jungkook’s face how amazing you were and what he lost when he slummed it with those other women.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll get it finished, but you need to get me tteokbokki after, got it?” It was something you’d dreaded, but having the feeling inside that you’d let him win by not seeing him again was eating at you from the inside.

Lindsay squealed in joy, clapping her hands, “ I’m gonna make you so hot! He’s gonna regret sleeping with those other bitches!”

“Whoa, whoa, I’m going to get my tattoo finished, not see him. And don’t call them bitches! Women stick up for women, no matter how fucked up some might be.” Secretly, you were hoping to make him jealous or upset with how he left you. He deserved to feel like shit.

“Okay, okay, sorry…I’M GONNA GET MY HEELS!!” Lindsay yelled as she ran out of the living room to grab her heels from her room. I sighed, knowing that I couldn’t stop her.

***

A week later, you walked into the shop, seeing the familiar face of RM. He was one of the piercers that worked in the parlour, “Y/N, hey, it’s been a while!” He spoke with a big smile, happy to see you again. With the time you’d spent there before everything, you’d befriended his friends. It felt unfair leaving them behind after it all.

“Yeah, hi, how’ve you been?” Even though Jungkook was nowhere to be seen, you couldn’t help but feel a lump growing in your throat.

RM had a bright smile on his face, one that he’d always had that always managed to make your day better. “Good! I’ve been good, uh, how can I help you today?” He asked, standing up from behind the front desk.

“I want to get my tattoo finished. I think it’s finally time.” You gave him a small smile, he’d known about what happened between you and Jungkook. It was hard not to know, he was friends with him after all.

“Alright, we can do that! Let me see…V could take you.” He looked up from the computer, seeing what was open now. You nodded your head, willing to take anyone who wasn’t Jungkook.

They’d gotten you situated at a station, instructing you to take off your sweater. Your half finished tattoo was now on display, waiting to be finished. V was nice, making small talk here and there, making sure you were comfortable with everything and that nothing was too painful. Pain wasn’t your thing, yes, you had to go through a period every month and maybe one day give birth, but you had a low pain tolerance. He used to squeeze your thigh, kiss your neck, finger you to keep you calm…stop it! Don’t think about him! He’s not in your life anymore, don’t waste precious thinking space on him! Not thinking about the needle piercing your skin was abruptly stopped when you felt a prick, yelping, you moved your shoulder away. V looked at you with wide eyes, “ I’m sorry! Was that painful? Oh god, are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

“No, no! It’s okay! I’m fine, just startled! Sorry, I zoned out for a moment…” You gave him a sheepish smile, relaxing in the chair again.

“That’s fine, just let me know if you need a break or anything, okay? Maybe I can sneak you a juice if you really want, too.” He gave you his signature boxy smile, instantly warming your heart.

You giggled, nodding your head, “That would be nice…” Smiling up at him, it felt nice to still be friendly with them even though you were nowhere close to being friendly with Jungkook.

V stood up, walking away to get you a juice from the break room. He left you in the chair, leaving you alone to listen to the music playing softly through the speakers. Quietly humming along, your thoughts were halted by hearing two voices. “Hey, RM, when’s my next client?”

“She should be here soon, it’s a touch up.” I could hear RM talk to the person. The other guy hummed, shuffling around a little.

You sat up, being faced with Jungkook. Everything seemed to go fuzzy, your thoughts, the sounds around you, even your eyesight. The lump in your throat returned, making it hard for you to breathe, V returned with your juice, “ I got you watermelon! You know? Since it’s your favourite!”

You were startled out of your trance, looking up at V who was holding your favourite juice. They still had it…? “Thanks…how do you-?”

You were cut off by V smiling sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. “We all thought you’d show up again…but when you didn’t, we kept the fridge stocked for whenever you decided to show up again.”

Heat rushed up to your cheeks, they’d waited for you? Why? His boxy smile came back again, looking over to Jungkook, waving “Hey, JK, lunch was good?”

“Yeah, it was fine. Pussy would’ve been better though.” Jungkook replied as if it were nothing, finally looking over to you. He faltered a little bit, quickly recovering by giving you a cocky smirk, “Glad to see you back, Y/N.”

Without another word, he walked away, back into his office. Biting the inside of your cheek, you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him. He was like a parasite, once you had it, it would never go away.

[serejae]

STUCK BY THE GLUE ! | ZB1

-

WHAT ! - zb1 with a crafty s/o

WHEN ! - (warnings) , petnames

WHO ! - (a/n) hi!! tysm for requesting this was so fun to make, and ahhh its so cool you like crocheting i wanna learn sometime c: but i hope this was up to standard and that you enjoy ml :-) keeep requesting guyssss <3

not proofreadddd

-

K.JIWOONG ;

! - this man is so chill about it pls.

! - he knows when the house is too quiet that it only means youre on your new fixation

! - whatever it is, painting, drawing, pottery, or crocheting he’ll love accompanying you during it, he’ll come out and sit by you and you both will yap. or if youre more of a listener he’ll tell you stories or just say random things while admiring the focused look on your face when you do the things you enjoy.

!- loves it when you make stuff for him. if you make something for him. a drawing? he’ll frame it or if its tiny enough will put it in his phone case. jewelry? will wear it all the time. keychain? if he put it on one bag and wanted to use another one, hes switching out the keychain

! - this man loves when you have such creative hobbies that you can tell him all about

Z.HAO ;

! - oh boy hes ready

! - whenever he finds out about your hobby automatically hes buying you supplies (he doesnt know what to buy he just searched up ‘needed materials for ______” ). and if you run out of storage, trust hes 5 steps ahead of you. he bought and figured out a organization plan so you wont have to dig through messy buckets for your materials

! - he just wants to see you happy and at peace, and your his ‘little creator’ or as what he calls you. you dont have to do nothing when your with him. just create, he’s got the rest (clean up crew)

! - when you make stuff for him, hes smiley on the outside, but crying on the inside. like his baby made THIS. for HIM?? he likes to gatekeep lowk…so he wont tell EVERYONE or be pushy about showing it off but itll be discreet. like to the point someone will have to ask, then he will talk about it. (he just likes the thought of keeping the things you made for him to himself >:)

! - such a supportive bf :’-)

S.HANBIN ;

! - okay i keep saying theyre supportive BUT TRUST

! - he likes to bother you while you do your projects, but he knows to keep some distance to keep you peace. so while your doing your craft in lalaland you hear “baby, babe, my love, honey, darling” in all sides of your ear, just for him to go “your so pretty” when you look at him…and you cant really be mad at that :-)

! - like jiwoong loves watching you from afar, but once he’s only focused on you thats when he shuts up (nicely) . he’s too busy admiring you and will definitely take some pictures of you for his wallpaper, homescreen, pfp, atp on his face

! - if you make something for him or his hamster collection (ddungjjungham or binni) he’s crying. “OH BABY FOR ME?” “for binni” “so for me😐”. we know he lost ddungjjungham (rip you baby) but somehow he didnt lose the hat and scarf you crocheted for ddungjjungham…

! - he loves you and wants to be as comforting to you as your hobby is

S.MATTHEW ;

! - has no idea whats going on but his amazing partners good at it so he loves it !!!

! - a “go kylie go!” boyfriend for sure. when your doing your hobby he sits there wondering what your doing, why your doing that, why does it look like that? but your doing it so it must be the right and only way. will look up videos to silently watch to see how the video explains the steps your doing

! - after a while of observing he starts the talking. he helicopter you, start looking the project in all different directions while asking when its gonna be done, whyd you do this technique, why are you so perfect? but its all in love and after like 5 minutes he lets you have your peace and watches you

! - when you make stuff for him he will not shut up. someone needs to put tape over his mouth. (if your in a world where idols can date, he’ll talk about it on streams) but to his members “y/n made me this” “oh look what y/n made” “why can you guys be like y/n 🫤” . i know gunwook is TIREDDDDD

! - a very curious and proud bf ^_^

K.TAERAE ;

! - hes so infactuated

! - he’ll be eating and watching you do your hobby and talk. watches your movements and listens to your peaceful voice. the best of both worlds. he doesnt ask too many questions or bother you too much, he just stares blankly and thinks ��thats my soulmate”

! - if hes feeling like a pintresty boyfriend he’ll learn a song on his guitar and sing as you work, so you both can learn and do something together. he’ll often catch himself looking away from his chords tutorial and staring at you. the way your face is when your focused. hes just in love :-/

! - when you make him stuff hes in shock, cause you thought of him when you were doing what makes you happy? if you made him a keychain he’ll hang it onto his guitar case cover if you make him anything he can hangup or wear, he has a whole wall of just your creations and loves when people ask so he can just talk about how you made it, how talented you are, how you two met, how much he loves you, just you.

! - please let his man sing and serenade you as you do your hobby

S.RICKY ;

! - oh here comes mr perfect 😒 /j

! - if you guys didnt know ricky actually draws too and studied visual arts, so he’ll adore having a crafty s/o. he’ll first watch you do your hobby loving how at calm and zoned out you look. after a bit he creates lazy date nights where you both create your crafts and give them to each other. you’ll normally get a drawing or you or you and ricky from him and you give him your craft

! - please he’ll use the things you make him to the brim. a keychain? hanging it on all his bags. a painting or drawing? hes hanging it up on his bed side wall so when he sleeps he sees it. you make him a outfit peice (or outfit) will wear it every where he goes. cause everyone needs to see your outfit, and your outfit needs to see the world

! - loves it when he sees you put his work out and showing it off. he’s then reminded on why he enjoys art so much. you brought his soul out for him :’-)

! - just a crafty couple in their world

K.GYUVIN ;

! - hes one thats adventurous enough to actually attempt your crafts.

! - its not like the other members were intimidated but they enjoy letting you have your own thing to enjoy, something you can run to at the end of your stressful day. but gyuvin? he wants to destress with you

! - anything you wanna do? you start on it and he’ll watch a youtube video on how to do it. if you help him he’ll look at you with the most lovesick smile because your sharing YOUR hobby with him. at first hes pretty messy at the beginning but with a bit of help from you, hes got it down. before you could even make him something, he made your something first. (show off >:\) and he giggles each time he sees you with it…like you thought it was that good to keepppp?

! - when you make him stuff hes not crying (#2), not shutting up (#2), and screaming. hes so honored. he has so many photos in his camera roll and he’ll show them off as much as he can. but will be a little salty when you make more stuff for eumppappa then him but i guess its fine😒

! - a “whatever you do i do” bf :p

P.GUNWOOK ;

! - another admirer

! - loves the energy and dedication you put into your work and it’s definitely worth it. when you leave him alone he looks through your finished work and guesses how long it took for each one to be finished. and when he finds out hes always shocked even if his guess was right , your dedication is another reason why he loves you so much

! - if you come home unmotivated or tired for any reason, gunwook already has you covered. you look for your crafting materials but find that its not its normal spot. you walk out to ask gunwook only to find him set up blankets, snacks, and a movie with your materials on deck. “i figured you’d need it”

! - if you ever make him anything his jaw is on the floor cause theres no way you put your love and energy into this. something made for your boyfriend and only your boyfriend. he knows how to brag about you without making it so obvious like matthew. he’ll sneak it in so people will talk about it but wont tell him to shut up

! - cupid pls get this man up

H.YUJIN ;

(platonic :-)

! - is in total awe

! - how can someone just craft something like that with their mind and hands? he loves watching the process from start to finish. this is his version of asmr, the way your face focuses when you get the the certain part, how you plan it out so precisely.

! - please please please. if you do sewing make this man a plushie, he will sleep with it every night and take it everywhere. even if he doesnt make his bed he makes sure his stuffy is sitting just right and comfortable. if not make this man something bunny related. he’ll giggle each time he sees it.

! - if you make him anything he can hang up, hes putting it by his desk and thats his motivation for studying or anything. if hes feeling down, he’ll lean in his chair and see the silly bunny staring at him and get right back to work :)

! - so excited that you can do something you enjoy and he gets the product

[lolahasmoxie]

Filled to the Brim (E.M.)

mdni, 18+ (lots of sex stuff inside. shoo if you're underage)

WARNING: sex, lots of it. Bodily fluids (Eddie's cum). The mad writings of a woman who needs to get laid.

WORD: 1.4K

I was inspired by this fic by @emeritusemeritus, which is so filthy, good, and dirty.

Eddie cums like a freight train.

You noticed it the first time you had sex with him. You had finally stopped pining for each other and had decided that being friends wasn't good enough anymore. You were yanking on Eddie's shirt, but he took your hands in his before gently guiding you to his bedroom.

He forced you to slow down. He made you feel so precious that you had tears in the corner of your eyes. He kissed you for what felt like hours before he blazed a path between your legs. His plush lips and agile fingers had you singing for him before he finally covered your body and pushed into your warm, velvet walls.

He laid a steady rhythm, kissing you the entire time. You came with his name on your lips, and he followed almost immediately after. And when he did cum, it felt like he came for ages. Just when you thought he had given you all he had to offer, you would feel another twitch and hear another groan.

When he stopped to look where you were joined, he gasped; his orgasm extended when he noticed that he had filled you so much that his cum was trickling out around his cock. He pulled out of you, still hard, and watched as his cum puddled onto the bed. He had you three more times that night.

He told you it had been a while, so you didn't think much of it. But it didn't take long to realize that Eddie just came in buckets. It wasn't uncommon for you to be leaking him for hours after, even into the next day. The man ruined so many pairs of your panties, but you would forget all of that when he would hover over you in a post-orgasmic glow. Watching you like you were a goddess as he watched his cum dribble out of you.

It was a lazy Saturday. After morning kisses and breakfast, you and Eddie had made your way back to bed. With nowhere to be, you climbed into Eddie's lap. You bounced slowly and gently, hands on his shoulders as you took your time. Feeling every vein and inch of his thick cock as he made you feel so damn full.

Eddie's hands were on your hips, gently helping you bounce as you took the time to enjoy how the other felt. When you came, it was with a breathy cry. You collapsed onto his chest, body shaking as he moved his own hips to follow you into bliss. Eddie held you close, kissing you while you warmed his cock. You wished all Saturdays could be like this, but you began to squirm when you felt a growing wetness between you.

"Can't move like that, sweetheart. You're gonna get me hard again."

"Can't help it." Eddie opens his eyes, smirking when he sees why you can't keep still.

"Got a little messy today, huh?"

"You're always a little messy, love." Eddie's ears glow beet red at your comment, but he can't disagree with you when he pulls out of you and sees his cum make a trail down onto the sheets.

"Stay put; I'll get something and clean you up." He kisses you quickly, and you can't help but smile as he tidies you up while you lie pliant on the bed. The washcloth is warm, and he gives your inner thighs kisses as he wipes his cum off of you. When he runs the warm cloth between your lips, you can't help but squirm due to tenderness.

"Ssssh, I know. You did so good for me."

"Mmmm, you always treat me so good, Eds,"

"Wasn't talking to you." He says with a cheeky smile. You glance down to see his head resting on your upper thigh, his eyes level with your sore pussy. He cups you gently, his eyes finally meeting your own. "But you did good, too."

"You are so lucky I like you." You giggle as Eddie leaves kisses on your mound before making a path back up to your waiting lips. He kisses you softly, curling his body next to yours.

"Stay awhile?" he asks quietly, and you let him wrap his arms around you. It doesn't take long before the both of you are sleeping.

You wake up a couple of hours later, Eddie's side of the bed empty. There's a note on the nightstand saying that he didn't want to leave, but Wayne's truck died and needed Eddie's help and that he would be home as soon as he could.

You feel it the minute you stand. The slow trickle of Eddie's essence slowly makes its way down your thigh, and after stopping in the restroom, you head to the kitchen to start making dinner.

Almost an hour later, Eddie's van comes up the driveway. You have the radio on, singing along as you finish dinner. You threw on an old t-shirt and pajama shorts with no underwear, seeing as you were positive all of Eddie's cum was out of you.

You were so lost in the music that even though you knew Eddie was home, he was able to sneak up behind you. He loved scaring you, and when he heard you scream and jump, he started howling with laughter. He only stopped when he noticed you hunched over, one hand on the counter while the other cupped your sex.

"Babe, what's wrong? Oh shit, I didn't make you pee yourself, did I? I am so sorry!"

"Not pee," you say with a strained voice. Eddie walks closer to you, slowly moves your hand out of the way, and sees a wet spot on the front of your shorts. He looks confused, his eyes meeting yours for an explanation. "It's from earlier; I'm still leaking from this morning."

"Holy shit, that's my cum?" he asks, his voice full of disbelief. "There was that much?"

"There's always that much," you giggle. "But thanks to your scare, I'm pretty sure I'm empty now."

Eddie stares at you blankly for a moment, his brain seeming to reboot with this information you've given him. Before you can tease him again, he makes you shriek when he picks you up and places you on the counter. Your mouth hangs open when he pulls your shorts down and uses his thumbs to spread you open. His eyes are filled with wonder and delight, the brown swallowed by inky black as he sees his sticky cum clinging to your pussy.

He thrusts his tongue into you, making you gasp and moan as he devours you like a demon. He's moaning and shoving his face into you like he's trying to bury himself in your pussy. The sounds you make fill the kitchen and echo off the walls as his fingers dig into your thighs.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie!"

"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart? You should have said something 'cause I would have cleaned up after myself like a good boy should."

It's almost embarrassing how quickly Eddie has you cumming on your kitchen counter. There's no slow lead-up, he's doing everything in his power to get you to cum, now. Your orgasm hits you like a truck, and you cry out, not caring one iota if the neighbors can hear what Eddie is doing to you. He continues his onslaught, drinking down all you have to give until you're shaking and begging him to stop.

When you finally catch your breath and your soul returns to your body, Eddie comes up, and his hands reach for your face to pull you in for a kiss. It's filthy, all tongue and teeth, and you can taste yourself on his lips. Then his arms grasp you under your thighs, and you're holding his shoulders as he carries you down the hallway.

"My poor baby, you must have been so uncomfortable keeping my load in all morning," he says in that cocky dungeon master voice that has you keening in his ear. He tosses you on your bed, and both of you race to disrobe.

He climbs over you, his hands spreading your thighs open as he begins to slowly rub his heavy cock between your lower lips. You bully your lower lip between your teeth at how he looks at you, goddess and temptress all in one and just for him.

"What are you gonna do?" you ask, reaching for his hand. He briefly looks you in the eyes before he returns his gaze to where you are joined together.

I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. Now that you're all clean, I'm gonna fill you up until your pretty little pussy can't hold anymore. I wanna see you leaking me for days." You have a witty response ready, but all coherent thoughts leave your head when his fat cock breaches your warm, wet walls. If Eddie wants to conduct this experiment with you, you'll let him as long as he keeps fucking you like this.

The answer to Eddie's question ends up being 3 days.

[elisiafarias]

HELLO I JUST WANA SAY I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE ABPUT THE LINKUEI SO MUCH.

Can you Write How would they react if their baby got sick? Please UwU

Im really happy you like it 🥰🥰

Now im really inspired

Pdt: I dont know nothing about babys but im doing my best

HOW THE LINKUEI TRIO REACT IF THEIR BABY GOT SICK (PART 1)

Bi han ❄️

It's only been two days since you gave birth, you were happier than ever, your baby was calm. Also you felt like Bi han softened when he was with you two.

Although he was a present man for you and your baby, he had to attend to Lin kuei matters.

After all he was still the Lin kuei Grandmaster. However, in this short time that has passed he has tried to help as he can, in his absence he left a woman in charge to attend to your demands.

When he arrived he would ask you how you were and then he would go to appreciate his son. When he looked at him, it was as if another feeling was born from him, he loved his son, he felt that he was an extension of him, his blood, It was unconditional love. You also felt that his love for you also grew.

It was early today, Bi Han left on a mission without telling you, it didn't bother you because you are used to it, after all you knew what you would have to face being the wife of the Grandmaster of the Linkuei.

You want to have breakfast, however your baby started crying, you assumed he was hungry, you asked the woman accompanying you to bring him to you. However, your baby did not accept your milk, you tried to calm him down in other ways and see what he had but nothing worked. As you carried him around the room with him you asked the woman.

-I don't understand, he doesn't accept my milk and he doesn't stop crying, what am I doing wrong? -You asked a little desperately.

-My lady, how about I bring you the wet nurse? - The woman suggested to you. At first you hesitated, you didn't want your baby to drink other woman milk, it gave you a strange feeling. But you had to do it for his own good.

-Yes please, but let it be in front of me.- You said to the woman. She nodded and went to look for the wet nurse, however he didn't accept her milk either, then your baby started crying harder.

His crying worried you, it was like he was suffering, something was wrong, your maternal instinct told you.

-Let's take him to the doctor, help me get dressed.- You said quickly.

- My lady, you should stay in bed. - The lady told you worriedly, after all you were still in pain from childbirth.

- Don't worry, I'll be fine, he should be with me. - You responded determinedly, your bond with your son was unbreakable.

They helped you dress, the truth is that you could barely move because of the pain, however you wanted to calm your son's pain.

Fortunately, the doctors were in the Lin Kuei establishments by order of the Grandmaster, to attend to his wife's demands, a wise decision on his part.

When you arrived with them, they asked you questions, examined your baby, and then made you leave the room.

-My lady, due to the hours that have passed without him eating, and given that he was born 2 months earlier than expected, we have the theory that some of his organs are not well developed. Therefore, we are going to feed him through feeding tubes. - The doctor explained to you.

For you it was like a bucket of cold water, it hurt you to think how uncomfortable your baby is going to be, if it would hurt, he is so small and so fragile.

-but there is no other way? he'll be fine? - you asked anxiously

-This is the best option, many hours have passed without feeding, believe me.- The doctor say try yo calm you.

In the end you had to give in, but you demanded to see him as much as possible.

They didn't deny you. Despite everything, you are the wife of the Grandmaster, he would threaten everyone if he was with you, and the doctors were aware of it.

In the end you thanked them, and waited for them to prepare your baby, while you waited you ate forcedly, you weren't even hungry, you did it just so that your condition wouldn't get worse.

Then you went to wait for them to call you so you could see him.

When they finally called you to come in, you went quickly. When you walked in your heart broke, even though you knew your son was going to be full of tubes, seeing him there was more shocking, he was so small, he looked so uncomfortable.

-Oh my life, my sweet baby.- You said to your baby, trying to caress his face.

You could barely touch it because there were so many tubes and cables that you could ruin a connection.

Your heart was shaken, he did not understand anything, you sent someone to notify Bi Han about the condition of his son as soon as he arrived, because you would not be separated from your baby. You felt like something would happen to him if you weren't with him.

So then you were with him, sitting watching him, without realizing it the day was already ending, for you the hours seemed like minutes, it was already 5 in the morning.

Just as you were about to close your eyes you felt a hand on your back.

-Wife....- Bi Han said, when you turned to see the cryomancer he was in shock seeing his son in that state.

He looked exhausted for having just arrived from a mission.

-Sorry, it's my fault, I couldn't breastfeed, he was suffering, so I brought him here.- You couldn't even finish your sentence because you finally broke.

You hid your face from him, you feel weak and vulnerable before him, but surprisingly for you he began to caress your head.

-It's not your fault.- your husband said compassionately.

-You should go to sleep now.- The cryomancer demanded.

-I can't...if I do he will be alone.- You responded weakly. Your husband frowned.

-Y/N, you are recovering, if you continue like this your condition will worsen.- The cryomancer told you somewhat harshly. He didn't like disobedience.

-I can't.- You responded without stopping to look at your baby.

-Obey your husband.- Bi han said harshly, his patience had already run out, the truth is that he was also dealing with many things that he never expresses, adding this situation.

Deep down you understood it, but it made you angry that he didn't understand that you didn't want to be separated from your son, at least being close to him gave you some peace of mind, as if nothing was going to happen to him.

-Okay, I'll do it, but I don't think I'll be able to sleep- you finally told him.

He sat down to look at his son, and he sighed as if he had regretted raising his voice to you.

-I'll stay with him.- the cryomancer said without stopping to look at his son.

That answer surprised you, you knew that deep down your husband was also suffering, but he remained stoic.

-Forgive me, when I finish resting I will come here, and then you will go to rest too.- You told your husband while you kissed his forehead.

He just nodded, and then you said goodbye to your baby and went to sleep (worried).

When Bi Han was left alone with his son, he got up and put his hand caressing the cheek of his baby.

"Everything will end soon, you are strong because you are my son." He spoke sweetly to his baby.

His son looked at him with those little eyes while making noises.

-Shhh..shhh.- The Grandmaster began to make sounds to his son to calm him down.

And it worked, Bi han shuddered. He didn't like seeing his son like that and he wasn't going to accept that his son wouldn't get better.

He was also tired, however he didn't give it importance, he was trained to endure days without sleep.

After a few hours he was closing his eyes and then his head was situated in a comfortable place.

He realized when he felt hands caress his hair that it was you. His head was placed on your chest, after many hours he had found peace, your perfume seemed pleasant to him.

-My love, you must go rest now.- You asked the cryomancer, he raised his head and directed it towards his son.

-I'm fine, I don't need to rest.- The Grandmaster said coldly, you put a hand on his cheek and made him turn to look at you delicately.

- Eat and rest, you haven't rested since you arrived from your mission, and the nurses are also going to change him and bathe him l.-You told him sweetly as you caressed his cheek. He took your hand and caressed it for a moment and finally accepted.

And so you stayed with your baby, hours passed and your husband returned, and that's how you stayed for the next few days, taking turns, or being together. Bi Han still had to attend to some Lin Kuei matters, you wondered how he could be so strong.

Now you were together looking at your son still in the incubator full of tubes. The baby had gained weight.

-How long are we supposed to wait?-The Cryomancer said, already angry, his patience had run out.

-Patience, husband, remember that he will be like this until his organs develop well-you told him calmly.

-These doctors are incompetent.- He responded harshly.

-My love, please don't be rude, they are doing the best they can, without them maybe our son wouldn't be alive- you told him, trying to calm him down, you were sure he was about to threaten the doctors.

He just growled, after a few minutes you dared to say.

-I swear that if he dies- You started to say but your husband interrupted you abruptly.

-Don't you dare even think about it, he will be fine.- The cryomancer responded harshly.

-I would die with him.- You finished saying with a very low voice.

Your husband just shook his head down. He heaved a sigh and took your hand.

-He is a Lin kuei, he is strong, he will get out of this.- The Grandmaster said stoically.

You just nodded anxiously, you want to believe that what Bi Han says is true, so you decide to decree positively.

All these days that have passed you have asked the universe that your son gets better soon, and if it was some kind of karma for the enemies that your husband has killed, may that karma be for you.

Until the day finally came when they disconnected your baby's tubes, to see if he could eat on his own. The Grandmaster commented "it's about time", you just looked at him insistently so he wouldn't be rude.

So there you were anxious and nervous, you wanted your son to accept your milk to end this hell.

When the nurse brought him to you you were so happy to see him disconnected, he looked more comfortable, although your baby gained weight he was still so small.

It was time, you got into position to breastfeed him, your husband put his hand on your baby's head to help position it.

-Come on my life, eat.- You said sweetly to your baby.

And as if it were a miracle, your baby started drinking, you could feel that connection with your baby, it was something unique and beautiful.

Bi han let out a small smile.

-Look at him my love, he's healthy now.- You said excitedly.

-Very well, we will leave with him immediately.- Said the cryomancer proud.

-Wait, Grandmaster, we must prepare him and do some final evaluations.- The nurse said scared.

Bi Han grunted. You just laughed.

-It's okay my love, the important thing is that our son is healthy, and he will be with us, thank you very much nurse and the doctors too.- You said happily.

Your husband looked at you and kissed your head.

-You did very well, wife.- The cryomancer said with a small smile, it was the first time you saw him so sweet to you.

After this event you couldn't be happier, for your son to be healthy was the best thing that could happen to you, and Bi has also shown that he loved them both.

END

Author note:

Hello hello I hope you liked it, don't look for inconsistency with the baby's plot, I don't know much about them XD but I did my best.

AND AS ALWAYS KUAI LIANG AND TOMAS FOR LATER (BI HAN INSPIRES ME IMMEDIATELY I DON'T KNOW WHY)

[beansprean]

"So, how did Guillermo get started as Nandor's familiar?"

"Nadja and Nadjita Tell It"; my entry for the Rashomon-style AO3 collection "So How Did You Two Meet?"! Check out the other fic and art entries to see the other characters' perspectives!

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Wide shot of Nadja and Dolly wearing matching pinkish-red gowns with dark blue sleeves sitting side by side in armchairs in the foyer, stairs twisting up behind them, as they do a talking head. Nadja tosses her hands up and scowls, rolling her eyes, and says 'Guillermo? What was that, 80 years ago? How should I remember?' Dolly has an open pack of crayons tucked into the chair next to her and has a stack of paper as big as her torso in her hands. She scribbles on it with a red crayon and clicks her tongue dismissively, replying, 'I remember everything. Let me show you.' 1b. Tight shot of Dolly's eyes in extreme closeup in the foreground, Nadja waist-up in the background. Nadja turns toward Dolly with a frown, one hand held palm up beside her head, and points out gently, 'But you weren't even there, my sweet little piglet.' Dolly responds, eyes focused on her paper, 'Then tell me if I get anything wrong.' 1c. Medium shot from the front, focused on Dolly as she smiles and turns her paper around to show the camera a clumsy crayon drawing of the vampire mansion. Nadja leans on one arm of her chair and ducks her head to get a closer look. Dolly begins, her speech bubbles turning into gilded scrollwork, 'Once upon a time...' 1d. The panels are now parchment paper with crayon drawings. This one depicts Guillermo, his body made of a single circle with a head on top and stick arms and legs with little circles for hands and feet. There is a big frown on his face, and behind him is a house shape in green with double doors and a P on the front followed by ellipses. Dolly's voiceover continues: '...there was a sad, round little human man with broken eyes who had a job at... uh... P...Pan...' Nadja's speech bubble appears, now in curly pink script: 'I believe it was Panda Bread, agapoula mou.' Dolly: 'Ah, yes! He had the job making breads from the panda milk, one of the most lowly forms of human labor.' 1e. Repeat of the previous drawing, now with a few additions from Nadja with a pink crayon: the building is titled Panda Bread, Guillermo is holding a load of bread and has a tear in his eye, and arrows are pointing toward him reading 'sad' and 'virgin'. 1f. Drawing of Nandor, whose body is made in the same style but shaped like a triangle, kneeling on the ground and weeping loudly. Pink additions: smell lines, a long dick and balls between his legs, and text that reads 'Oh I am so lonely and I smell bad because my last familiar fell off the roof or some shit'. Dolly: 'Meanwhile on the Staten Island, there was also a pathetic, empty-headed buffoon of a vampire who spent every night crying about how lonely and smelly he was.' Nadja: 'That sounds right.' 1g. Dolly: 'And his beautiful housemate, Nadja-' Nadja: 'That sounds very right!' Dolly: '-kicked him in his ass and said 'Get out of here and don't come dragging your balls over this doorstep without a familiar to take care of you!' The page shows a slightly more detailed drawing of Nadja with full lips and long eyelashes and waves of glorious hair in a big fancy dress, arms and legs held straight out. Nandor, still crying, is crouched over in the foreground as one of her heeled feet kicks him in the butt and sends him flying. Pink additions: dick and balls on Nandor and text that reads 'owie my penis', larger boobs, earrings, rings, and fishnet stockings on Nadja and sparkles surrounding her entrance.

2a. A drawing, torn off on the bottom, showing Nandor standing with his arms out and mouth open in an O, hearts in his eyes as he sees Guillermo crouched by a crudely drawn panda with an udder, milking it into a bucket. Pink additions: Nandor's dick standing at attention, surrounded by hearts; Guillermo surrounded by stink lines and hearts. Dolly narrates: 'So the sad vampire went to the Panda Bread and found the delicious virgin. The vampire wanted to eat him immediately! But he had promised Nadja to bring back a familiar.' 2b. A drawing, torn off at the top, showing a series of Guillermos working: holding a loaf of fresh bread, sweeping the floor, and dusting the wall with his back to the viewer. Nandor stands nearby, pointing a finger in the air with a big grin as he gets an idea. Pink additions: stink lines and hearts around Guillermo, buttcheeks on the dusting Guillermo, Nandor's dick pointing straight up. Dolly's voiceover continues: 'And though he noticed that the virgin worked very hard, he smelled much too yummy-scrummy to bring home alive. So the vampire did the only thing he could do...' 2c. Briefly back in reality, a close up of Dolly smiling and holding up a paper with a single crayon drawing showing a naked Guillermo lying on the floor with his mouth wide open and his legs straight up, Nandor crouched between them. Pink additions: buttcheeks on Nandor, tit and a small dick and balls on Guillermo, text reading 'ooh ahh master' and 'i love you human man'. 2d. Drawing torn at the bottom showing Nandor and Guillermo, now dressed, holding hands and smiling in front of Nadja, who towers over them and gives them a thumbs up. Pink additions: hearts surrounding Nandor and Guillermo, limp dicks on them both, a crown, bat wings, rings, sparkles, bigger boobs, and fishnet stockings on Nadja. Dolly narrates: 'Once his cherry was thoroughly popped, the vampire brought his new familiar home for Nadja's approval.' 2e. Dolly's voiceover continues: 'And then she and her husband fucked all night with no weepy loser to interrupt them!' Drawing, torn at the top, of a naked Laszlo laying on his back on the ground smiling with his arms straight up in a cheer. Nadja, also naked, is straddling him backwards with her arms also up. Pink additions: hearts all around them, crowns and rings for them both, chest hair and tits for laszlo, tits and bush for Nadja along with bat wings, a crude interpretation of their genitals entwined, text by Laszlo reading 'i love my wife', text by Nadja reading 'finally i can be the little spoon'. Dolly's narration concludes with a fancy 'The End.' 2f. Back to reality; repeat of the first panel, wide shot of the foyer with Nadja and Dolly sitting beside each other. Dolly is proudly holding up the final drawing with a smile. Nadja grins at the camera, left elbow braced on the chair arm and idly twirling a blunt pink crayon in the air as she declares, 'Yeah, that was pretty much it. No notes.' /end ID

[sidekick-hero]

It's finally here, my entry for the @steddiesummerexchange. This is a gift for my dear friend @starryeyedjanai - I was so delighted when I found out you were my giftee 💜💜💜 Your prompt 'Steve can't get his inheritance until he marries someone' really tested me and took me out of my writing comfort zone. I hope you like it and that I did your prompt justice! Special shout out to the best beta in the whole world, @acasualcrossfade 💜🙏

Pairings: Steve/Eddie, Robin/Chrissy Characters: Steve, Eddie, Robin, Chrissy, Max, Dustin, Wayne Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake Marriage, Platonic Stobin, Platonic Hellcheer, idiot4idiot, Friends to Husbands to Lovers, Humor and Fluff and a smudge Angst

Summary:

When Steve's grandmother dies, he finds out that he can only get his inheritance - half a million dollars - if he marries someone. It's her way of forcing Steve to live a heterosexual life. Sucks for her that gay marriage has been legalized since she wrote her will. Sucks for Steve that he doesn't have a man or woman in his life to marry. Cue Eddie Munson, roommate and best friend of Robin's girlfriend Chrissy and the guy Steve has had a crush on for years. What could possibly go wrong?

Read on AO3 - the fic is finished and has 4 chapters, the last one will drop June 24

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 1 (5.6k) under the cut

"Rob! Robbie!" Steve yells as he walks into their two-bedroom apartment, kicking the door shut behind him. "Robin Juniper Buckley, where are you?"

He hears the telltale clatter of dishes and sure enough, he finds his roommate and best friend in their tiny kitchen washing the dishes. It's his turn to do them, but his schedule has been hell this week. He's been spending so much time at the firehouse cooking for a crew of five to twelve perpetually hungry firemen and women that the thought of cleaning up their kitchen at home has made him want to cry.

"I'm here doing the dishes, because if I didn't, we could have proven Darwin's theories right here in our kitchen." Despite the scolding words, she doesn't look particularly angry at him, and he figures he'll be forgiven in no time. She knows he's been working himself into the ground lately, pulling double shifts whenever his boss will let him. Living in Chicago is expensive enough, but Steve also has to think about Max's education. There's no way his little sister can't live up to her full potential just because their parents are assholes who stopped caring about their children the second they turned out not to be the perfect son and daughter Richard and Emily Harrington wanted them to be.

He walks up to her and hugs her sideways, resting his head on her shoulder for a moment as he mumbles, "'m sorry, Robs. I'll make it up to you."

She sighs, and he knows he's already forgiven. "I know you will. It's okay. Not like I forgot to do something once or twice."

He leans back to look at her for full effect, waggling his eyebrows. "Oh, like when you started dating Chrissy and were so busy having sex that you barely left your room or her apartment?"

Robin swats at him with the towel slung over her shoulder, but there's a smile on her face at the memory.

"Okay, now that we've established that you're jealous that I have an incredibly sexy and wonderful girlfriend," Robin says, ignoring his indignant Oi!, "do you want to tell me why you stormed in here yelling out my full name, which I've clearly forbidden you to use except in emergencies?"

Her question brings back the excitement that propelled him from the grocery store to her apartment in record time, and reminds him of the news he's been dying to share with her in person, rather than by phone or text message. He needs to see her reaction firsthand.

Taking hold of Robin's shoulders, he locks eyes with her azure gaze, unable to contain the grin that splits his face in two. "She’s gone!"

Robin blinks in confusion, prompting him to clarify. "Grandma Harrington, she's kicked the bucket, bit the dust, you name it."

A puzzled expression lingers on Robin's face momentarily before realization dawns. "No way! She... really?"

Unable to contain his excitement, Steve gives her a gentle shake. "Yes, really. Grandma Harrington finally called it quits."

They look at each other, their grins widening until they both look like madmen. Steve is aware that all of this is probably a highly inappropriate way to react to the death of a human being, but Eleanor Harrington had been the worst human being Steve or Robin had ever had the displeasure of meeting in their lives.

She had visited her son and daughter-in-law infrequently over the years, never giving them much warning when she was coming over and occupying one of their guest rooms for the unforeseeable future. More than once, Steve had come home to find her sitting at the kitchen table or on the sofa, staring at him with her judgmental gaze, disappointed in him before he even crossed the threshold. Any friend who had the misfortune to accompany him was ordered to sit with her and be interrogated, always found wanting as her grandson's companion. Everyone was beneath a Harrington, even Tommy, even though his father was a lawyer. ‘Too many freckles and that awful grin’ was one reason, ‘I don't like the way he looks at you, Steven, too greedy’ was another.

Robin, who had become a permanent fixture in Steve’s life after becoming his project partner in one of their shared classes his junior year, hadn’t fared any better. To this day, Steve has no idea how Grandma Harrington found out that Robin was queer, because at that point Robin hadn't even been out to her parents, only Steve. But when she did, she had spit at Robin. Steve had lost it then, too angry, too hurt to think rationally. He had thrown caution to the wind and come out to her, too, even though the thought of liking boys was still new to him, something he was still trying on to see how it would fit.

He doesn't even know what he expected to get out of it. Certainly not acceptance or even approval, no matter how much a part of him still craved that from his family. The only thing he got was her calling them both horrible names and saying such cruel things that Steve had to hold Robin and wipe away her tears afterwards.

That episode alone was reason enough for Steve to hate the old woman. Never mind that she had raised his father to be a bigoted, heartless man who had never learned what it meant to truly love anyone, not even his own son or daughter.

When their faces begin to ache from smiling, Robin shrugs casually, as though dismissing the significance of the moment. But Steve knows better. He knows the weight of hurt and resentment they both carry because of that woman.

"Rest in peace, I suppose," Robin remarks with an air of detachment, and Steve can only offer a noncommittal hum in response, realizing that any words he might speak would only add to the inappropriate nature of their conversation.

"Alright, so what does this mean for you, Steve?" Robin asks, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "Is this going to change how you deal with your family?" She pauses briefly before adding, "And what about your inheritance?"

Steve offers a slight shrug, his expression turning pensive. "I'm not entirely sure yet, Robs," he begins, his tone serious despite the lingering excitement from their earlier celebration. "I mean, I guess it means I don't have to deal with her anymore, which is definitely a relief. But as for the rest of the family, I don't know. They've never been particularly warm or welcoming to me, you know that. I mean, you’ve been there when they wanted to send me to a psychiatrist to help me get over being queer. I doubt they've changed much since then."

Robin nods in understanding, recalling the numerous tales Steve had shared about his family's cold demeanor and their refusal to accept him for who he is. She reaches out, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I mean, you know she was loaded. So yeah, there is an inheritance, but -" Steve continues, his gaze distant as he contemplates the implications. "There's a condition in Grandma Harrington's will. I can only inherit if I marry someone.”

Robin's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Marry? Seriously? That seems archaic, unfair, and downright manipulative."

Steve lets out a wry chuckle. "Tell me about it. Grandma always did enjoy her control games. It's probably her way of trying to mold me into the perfect, straight grandson."

"You've got to be kidding me! Seriously? You... what, have to marry some woman so you can be the perfectly acceptable heterosexual son and grandson your family always wanted? Fuck off!" Despite the heavy topic, Steve can't help but smile at Robin's outrage on his behalf. He could always count on her. After all, she was there to pick up the pieces when his parents told him in no uncertain terms to either learn to be straight or leave.

He left and lived with the Buckleys until Robin graduated and they moved to Chicago together. It was the best decision he could have made, even if it still hurts some days.

For a moment, they both fall silent, each lost in their thoughts. Then Robin squeezes his hand again. "We'll figure it out, Steve. We always do. And hey, maybe this is the perfect opportunity to really stick it to them."

"What do you mean?"

A devilish grin spreads across Robin's face. "Tell me, does her will say that you have to marry someone, or that you have to marry a woman to get your inheritance?"

Oh.

Oh.

Steve looks at Robin, his eyes wide with sudden understanding. “You’re a genius, Buckley,” he says, grinning. “I think it’s time for us to pay my attorney a visit.”

Turns out Robin is right. It seems that Grandma Harrington wrote her will at a time when gay marriage was still illegal in most states, and never thought to change it after the courts made it legal in Indiana and Illinois in 2014.

Steve's lawyer, who he honestly couldn't afford if it wasn't for the fact that she was an old family friend, agreed to help him pro bono just to give his bigoted parents the middle finger, as her sister was a lesbian. She said that the requirements of the will would be met if Steve married a woman as well as a man. As long as it was a legally recognized marriage, he would get close to half a million dollars. Enough to pay for Max's education, the rest of Robin's student loans, and maybe even a small house here in Chicago for him and Max once she was done with college and wanted to live with him until she was ready to be on her own.

The only problem was that Steve didn't have anyone to marry, woman or man.

His last serious relationship had been in high school, for crying out loud. Not for lack of trying. Steve loved love, but love apparently didn't love Steve back. Robin insists that's because he's sabotaging himself. She thinks deep down he's afraid of getting hurt again, so he only falls for people who a) he can't have or b) are a terrible match outside the bedroom.

She might have a point, he thinks in his more introspective moments. He has no shortage of options, and he always finds someone to hook up with, but he rarely makes it past the second date.

"Maybe you could hire someone?" Robin suggests, sipping her Dirty Shirley. After seeing John for some legal advice, they had gone straight to their favorite bar to hold a strategic summit over drinks.

So far, they have only made it to the drinking part.

Sighing deeply, Steve considers the idea for a second before shaking his head vehemently. "No way. I'm not paying some stranger to marry me. It's probably illegal anyway, and it sounds a lot like prostitution."

He knows it's the wrong thing to say when Robin raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. "And what, Steven, is wrong with prostitution?"

"Nothing. Nothing’s wrong with it. A job like any other job,” he hastily assures her.

His answer seems to satisfy her and he knows she's right. It's just that sometimes the things he's been raised to believe, thanks to his extremely conservative parents, are hard to leave behind. They have a tendency to bubble back to the surface when he least expects it.

"That's what I thought. But I get it, it feels wrong to pay someone to marry you."

"Exactly. And I mean, it's about trust. Who guarantees that they won't double-cross me somehow and run off with all the money? I can't risk that."

He looks over at his best friend, his platonic soul mate, whom he trusts with his life and, more importantly, his little sister's life. Right now, he thinks, there’s only one person he could imagine being married to.

"How about we get married?"

He regrets it as soon as he asks.

Not because he thinks Robin wouldn’t do it, but because of the two of them, she is the one in a loving, stable relationship that could very well end in marriage one day. It's unfair of him to put her in a situation where she feels like she has to choose between Steve and Chrissy.

Worst of all, he knows she still wants to say yes to him. He can see it in the soft, sad way she looks at him. They both know they'll spend the rest of their lives together anyway. The simple truth of both their lives is that they would do anything for each other, walk through fire, face any horror the world could throw at them, just to see each other happy. And it's not like they couldn't get a divorce later, so Robin could still marry Chrissy, sure. But it would take something from her.

"Steve, I -"

"No, wait, don't answer that. It was a stupid idea, I shouldn't -"

"It's not stupid, it's just -"

As they talk over each other, their voices clash until they both instinctively reach over, silencing each other with a hand over their mouths at the same time. Their wide-eyed surprise quickly gives way to laughter as they realize the absurdity of the situation.

Steve is the first to recover from their fit of laughter, quickly sobering up to reassure Robin in a mild voice. "Seriously, Robs, I shouldn't have asked you to do this because it puts you in a shitty position. I know how much you love Chrissy and it wouldn't be fair to either of you. Especially when the two of you could finally get legally married. I don't want to take that away from you and make you agree to a fake heterosexual marriage like it was the 80's."

She looks at him with her big blue eyes, impossibly soft, and takes his hand in hers.

"Steve," she begins, her voice as gentle as her gaze, "thank you. For getting it, I mean. It wouldn't be all fake, though. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But you're right, I'm not in love with you and you're not in love with me. And we both deserve to marry someone we feel that way about. In a perfect world, we would. I mean, I don't even know if Chrissy would ever want to marry me, but," Robin stops here, her eyes widening in sudden realization. "Oh my God, Steve!" Robin cries out in excitement and wonder, her reaction clearly colored by the strong cocktails their favorite bar always provided, before her voice becomes softer again, but no less wondrous. "I really want to marry her. I want to marry Chrissy so badly, Steve, I can't believe I didn't know.”

"And I can't believe you're realizing this after I asked you to marry me. Way to keep a guy's ego in check," Steve jokes with a big grin on his face. It's less news to him than it is to Robin, to be honest. Ever since Robin stumbled into their apartment with a piece of paper in her hand with a number on it, gushing about the gorgeous woman she had just met at the bookstore where she works, Steve knew his best friend was completely smitten with Chrissy Cunningham. That was four years ago, and they are still going strong, obviously madly in love.

She throws her arms around him and says, "I'm sorry," not sounding sorry at all, still giddy with her newfound realization. "I'll make it up to you. I actually might have an idea how we can get you your inheritance and still stick it to Grandma Harrington."

"I sense a but."

"But I can't guarantee it'll work."

"And..."

"And you might not like it at first, but honestly, it's genius, you just have to trust me. And if it really doesn't work out, then we'll get married and you'll pay for my 'I'm-sorry-I-love-you-please-stay-with-me-even-though-I'm-fake-marrying-my-best-friend' vacation with Chrissy. And the divorce."

Maybe it's the three beers he's already had, or maybe it's the fact that Robin would actually marry him just to help him out that makes him agree. He's sure he'll regret it along the way, but maybe he should take a leap of faith. If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't. No way to find out but to try.

Drunk Steve is clearly an optimist.

"I feel like I'm going to regret this, but all right. What's your plan?"

Robin grins mischievously, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she leans back, holding Steve at arm's length.

"Steve Harrington, you won't regret this, I promise," she declares, her tone brimming with confidence.

Steve rolls his eyes good-naturedly, unable to suppress a chuckle at Robin's enthusiasm. "I'll hold you to that, Robin. But seriously, when do I get to know the master plan?"

Robin's grin widens, but then she sobers slightly, a hint of seriousness creeping into her expression. "I need to talk to Chrissy first. It's... complicated. But I'll tell you everything as soon as I can, I promise."

Steve nods, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension swirling inside him. "Okay, fine. Just... don't keep me waiting too long, okay? I've had enough surprises for one night."

Robin reaches out, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "I won't, Steve. Trust me, this is going to work out. You'll see."

Despite his lingering doubts, Steve can't help but be swayed by Robin's unwavering confidence. With a nod, he squeezes her hand back, a silent agreement passing between them. Whatever Robin's plan entails, he knows his best friend has his back. And maybe, hopefully, they'll come out on top after all.

Drunk Steve should not be allowed to make any decisions, sober Steve decides.

Because he instantly regrets trusting Robin's secretive plan as soon as he steps into their apartment a week later, only to find not just Robin, but also her girlfriend Chrissy and Chrissy's best friend and roommate Eddie lounging in their living room.

All eyes turn towards him as he enters.

Robin's expression is the most transparent. Though the furrow between her brows is subtle, her lip-chewing and rhythmic tapping betray her worry, likely anticipating his reaction to whatever scheme they've concocted.

Chrissy, on the other hand, wears a radiant smile, her bubbly demeanor suggesting she's delighted about something. Yet, Steve can't shake the feeling that her enthusiasm might spell trouble. While he adores Chrissy and cherishes her friendship almost as much as he does Robin’s, he's well aware of her propensity for stirring up mischief.

Their shared history stretches back almost as far as hers and Robin's. It's a tradition for Robin and him to introduce their second dates to each other, one of their many platonic soulmate privileges. Steve often wonders if this practice inadvertently sabotages any chances of a third date, but he's unwilling to compromise on the importance of his friendship with Robin.

In any case, if someone can't accept his slightly unconventional bond with his best friend, they're probably not the right fit for him anyway.

Eddie's expression proves the most enigmatic. He appears utterly deer-in-the-headlights, his wide brown eyes resembling those of a startled doe. His usually pale complexion now seems even more ghostly. Steve notices how Eddie's fingers have been incessantly tousling his hair, rendering his dark curls resembling more of a chaotic bird's nest. Steve recognizes this as one of Eddie's nervous ticks, alongside fidgeting and rambling. His suspicions of Eddie's unease appear justified as Eddie avoids meeting Steve's gaze, opting instead to stare down at his hands, absently toying with his rings.

Something is going on and Steve has a sinking feeling that he won't like it.

"Um, hi?" He offers tentatively, his gaze flitting between Robin, Chrissy, and the nervously fidgeting Eddie. "Am I missing something here? Is this an early birthday surprise? Because if it is, I hate to break it to you, but my birthday's not for another nine months."

Before Robin can respond, Eddie interjects, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Hey, Steve! Yeah, it's been a while, hasn't it? Nah, no birthday party, man. We definitely know when your birthday is!"

"We do?" Chrissy chimes in with a playful grin, clearly jesting, as Steve knows she's the one who meticulously keeps track of important dates in their circle.

Eddie, caught off guard by Chrissy's banter, stumbles over his words. "Uh, yeah, of course! February 23rd. Remember that baseball-themed cake from last year? I almost dropped it on the icy ground!"

Steve remembers it too, mostly because he was so chuffed to learn that in order to save his cake, Eddie had taken the fall instead, choosing to land on his admittedly not very well padded backside so that the cake could live. He had been unable to sit properly at their little gathering all evening. Steve had felt sorry for him, but also fond in the face of Eddie's sacrifice for him.

"It's so good to see you, Steve. You look great today, that shirt really makes your eyes pop. Doesn't it, Eddie?" Chrissy gushes, nudging Eddie's side as he just stares at Steve in a way that makes Steve worry that he's about to go into cardiac arrest.

Eddie's mouth opens and closes like a fish. "Um..."

"Okay, what's going on, Robin?" Steve turns to the only person who doesn't act like she's on drugs or caught red-handed at a crime scene. Or both.

Robin, bless her soul, doesn't beat around the bush. "I told you I had a plan. This," and she points to Eddie of all people, "is my plan."

"That's Eddie," Steve states the obvious, but he feels he can't be blamed. Nothing makes sense, so he's glad for every single thing he knows. Then the rest of her statement sinks in.

Blinking at her, his eyes wide, he says the first thing that comes to mind. "You can't be serious!"

There's no way she's saying what he thinks she's saying. Because right now it looks like her plan to help him get his inheritance involves marrying Eddie. Which, no. No, no, no, no. Not Eddie. Maybe she means some other plan that Steve has forgotten. Like Eddie helping him with Dustin's birthday surprise, which sounded much more likely than -

"I told you he didn't want to marry me," Eddie's voice sounds loud in the stunned silence after Steve's reaction. "This was a stupid idea, I don't even know what I was thinking." Then, addressing Steve with his eyes somewhere to Steve's right, "Listen, man, I'm sorry. I totally get it, no hard feelings, okay? I wouldn't want to marry me either."

The wry chuckle doesn't sit well with Steve, nor does the way Eddie still refuses to meet his eyes, or the fact that he's started walking toward their front door. Before he can think about it, his hand wraps around Eddie's arm as he passes Steve on his way out.

"Eddie, wait." Eddie does, looking at Steve's hand wrapped around his forearm. Steve's grip isn't tight, so Eddie could easily break free, but he doesn't. He just looks, quietly waiting. Still not meeting Steve's eyes.

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong. I was just surprised, okay? A little warning would have been nice." The last part is mostly for Robin, who at least does look contrite at his words.

"It's fine, Steve, really. Don't worry about it. Now, if you'll excuse me. Places to be, things to do, see you when I see you, you know the drill."

Steve could let him go, maybe should let him go, because Eddie is obviously embarrassed and the whole situation has gone south anyway. But Eddie doesn't sound fine, and Steve feels terrible about his lack of a brain-to-mouth filter. Something that is usually Robin's specialty.

So instead of letting Eddie walk out of the apartment, Steve steps in front of him to block his way. "Eddie, please wait. I really didn't mean it the way you think I did, you have to believe me. You're a catch, okay? Anybody would be lucky to marry you."

And okay, wow, he didn't mean to say that, but it's the truth.

"You really mean that?" Eddie asks, pulling a strand of hair in front of his mouth. It looks incredibly cute and Steve wants to kill Robin for putting him in this position. She had said that he would not like her plan and that should have been reason enough for him to stop her. Because now he's between a rock and a hard place.

Either he lies and lets Eddie walk away thinking he's not good enough to be married, even if it is a scam to get his grandmother's inheritance. Or he tells the truth and risks getting his heart broken or their friendship ruined.

Because the thing is, Steve means every word. Steve has had a crush on Eddie for years. He's been able to keep those feelings in check because he and Eddie never spend time alone together. It's always group hangouts, or Eddie being there when he and Robin visit Chrissy, or Eddie joining them when they meet at their apartment. It also helps that Eddie keeps his distance from him. Sure, he's nice enough to Steve, but every time Steve tried to get close to the other man, his efforts were rebuked until he got the memo and stopped trying.

Before he can come to a decision, Robin steps in.

“I’m sorry we’re springing this on you, Steve. I could’ve prepared this a little bit better but Chrissy and I were so excited that we found the perfect solution, we couldn’t wait any longer.”

“And this is the perfect solution,” Chrissy jumps in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Tell him Robin!”

Infected by Chrissy's enthusiasm, Robin’s voice carries an equally excited note. “You said it yourself, you’d need someone we can trust. And you trust Eddie, don’t you?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes on him. “Of course I do.” He doesn’t miss the sharp intake of breath next to him at his decisive tone. Eddie’s a great guy, him rejecting Steve’s advances doesn’t change that.

Of course he trusts him because Eddie never gave him any reason not to.

But he remembers the stories Chrissy told them to explain why Eddie was a little wary of Steve. Apparently, Eddie didn't have it easy growing up. Chrissy wouldn't go into details because it's Eddie's story to tell, but she did mention that people used to treat Eddie like a criminal, a fuckup, trailer trash. Especially the jocks and rich kids at their high school, so since Steve was kind of both, Eddie had been wary of him.

So much so that Steve had overheard Eddie asking Chrissy once, early in her relationship with Robin, why Robin kept bringing that rich asshole jock over all the time. The words had hurt, but Chrissy's explanation had softened the blow. Still, he'd stopped trying to flirt with Eddie after that because he'd figured that even if Eddie came to accept him, he'd never be interested in going out with someone who reminded him so much of all the bullies in high school who had made his life a living hell.

All of which makes it easy to see how Steve's implicit trust could come as such a surprise to him. Which still kind of stings, because Steve had hoped that the last four years had shown Eddie that Steve was not what Eddie expected him to be just because he grew up rich and popular and into sports.

Before he can get lost in his thoughts about Eddie and what he has to do to earn Eddie's trust the way Eddie has his, Chrissy chimes in again, raising a finger. "So you trust Eddie. That's like the most important thing. Second," she raises another finger, making a playful peace sign in their direction, "Eddie's single. Not like Robin."

Ah, okay, Steve can see why Chrissy is so excited about her and Robin's 'plan'.

"'m sorry, Chrissy, for proposing to your girlfriend," Steve sheepishly apologizes, giving her a crooked smile, which she returns with a sunny one of her own.

"No hard feelings. I get it, believe me. Being with Robin means being stuck with you. Just like Robin is stuck with Eddie. Which is the third reason why this is a great idea," she adds, raising another finger. "We all spend a lot of time together already. Nothing really needs to change."

Aside from the fact that Steve secretly wishes things could change between him and Eddie, he's not so sure that's true. But to argue her point would mean revealing more about his feelings than he's comfortable with, so he lets it slide for now.

Objectively, Steve knows they're right. If he didn't still feel... something for Eddie, he probably wouldn't even hesitate. Because yes, he trusts Eddie not to screw him over, and he's also a close acquaintance who's been teetering on the edge of being a real friend for years. But he's also the reason Steve had to leave last year's Friendsgiving party early because Eddie showed up with some guy who couldn't keep his sleazy hands off of him. It drove Steve crazy to see someone else have what he wanted so badly.

In the end, it is the thought of being able to give Max all the chances she deserves that finally makes him look back at Eddie.

"And you're sure you want to do this? Fake marry me, I mean. Because, Eddie... I can't tell you how much I appreciate you being willing to do this to help me out, but... you don't have to do this, okay? It's not your mess or your fucked up family, it's mine."

Finally, Eddie is looking back at him, meeting his eyes.

"I do. Wanna do this, I mean. I know I don't have to, but -" Here Eddie pauses, apparently searching for the right words. After a few seconds he breathes a sigh and continues. "Look, for once, I love the idea of sticking it to an old homophobic hag, so that's a big incentive. Also, I was actually hoping you could help me out as well. Because there's this amazing record store that's for sale, but the bank refuses to give me a loan unless I have some kind of collateral. So I'm kind of hoping that being married will sway them."

At Steve's surprised look, Eddie hastens to add, "I don't want your money! That's for you and Max. Just the fact that I'm married to someone with money will probably be enough. And we can totally do a prenup or something like that."

Eddie sounds anxious, like he's afraid he's said something wrong, when in fact he's doing Steve a huge favor and asking for something incredibly small in return. Steve thinks he can't be blamed at this point, he just has to touch Eddie. So he does, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Thank you, Eddie. Really. Of course we can go to your bank and convince them to give you the loan. It's the least I can do to thank you."

It feels good to be holding Eddie like this, even more so when, after a moment's hesitation, Eddie hugs him back. Even though they've known each other for years, Steve can count the times they've done this on one hand. It's never lasted this long either, and Steve can't suppress his disappointment when Robin interrupts the quiet moment by clapping her hands excitedly, causing Eddie to pull away.

"Oh, I'm so glad we worked it out. Go us!"

Chrissy, just as excited, jumps up and down next to Robin. "I'm so happy for you guys! We can totally help you plan the wedding. It's going to be great, I know it."

Steve and Eddie look at each other in growing confusion.

"Chris," Eddie begins, his voice careful. He's clearly more experienced in dealing with an overly excited Chrissy, so Steve lets him take the lead. "You do realize that Steve and I are only getting married on paper, right? I don't think -"

"You can still have a wedding!" Chrissy interrupts, clearly not deterred by anything silly like pragmatism or logic. "It's still a special day, and you deserve to celebrate it with your friends and family."

Before Steve can say anything - what, he has no idea - Robin jumps in on the ‘you should have a real wedding’ party.

"Besides, it has to look real, right? Why wouldn't you have a real wedding if you were getting married? Everyone would wonder. It's just easier to pull out all the stops and make it look as real as possible so no one will question it."

And that... actually made a lot of sense. Goddammit.

Looking at Eddie with an apologetic look on his face, Steve says, "I guess she's right," and shrugs his shoulders in a ‘I wish she wasn't, but what can you do’ kind of way. Eddie, to his credit, just sighs and nods, accepting his fate with as much grace as he can. He glances at Chrissy, who is almost vibrating.

"Fine. Chris, do you want to help us plan a wedding?"

She actually squeals. "Yes, yes, yes!" Then she rushes over and pulls them into a group hug.

Steve, looking over Chrissy's head at Robin, opens his arm. "Come here, Buckley." It's all the invitation Robin needs to join their celebratory hug.

For just this moment, Steve allows himself to feel as if this is all real, him and Eddie announcing their wedding and their two best friends in the whole world sharing in their happiness. It's a nice feeling, and when he leans his head on Robin's shoulder and looks at Eddie, he finds him looking back with the same soft smile on his face as the one Steve thinks must be on his own.

[urfavslytherclawgirl]

I cared...

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: Angst, swearing, crying, guilt, verbal fight, more than one POV, happy ending.

Summary: Bruce decides he will start dating you just to get information about your family, which is part of the Gotham Mafia, but what happens when he catches feelings for you? Or when you find out about all this?

"We need information on the Falcone family," Dick told Bruce while they were in the car heading to the annual Gotham party, it was amazing for people like Bruce and Dick, vigilantes.

The Falcone family needed to get what they deserved, to be put in jail for all the crimes they committed.

"And how do you want to do that?'' Bruce asked genuinely confused, Wayne Enterprises could get involved with Falcone and his wild business, they were friends after all, but it would be risky and obvious.

"We'll see. I'll take care of it Bruce, don't worry." Dick said as they stopped in front of the hotel where the party was happening.

"Hello, Mr. Wayne and Mr. Grayson." The host acknowledged the two as they got in with smiles. The party was full of people, with warm lighting and soft music playing, waiters walking from one end to the other giving out beverages and chatting everywhere.

"There's Falcone," Dick whispered as he got a glass of champagne, "and one of his daughters. Oh--maybe we can see if she lets out something. She is your age, or maybe two years younger but still. Give it a try" Dick suggested while looking toward the girl wearing an expensive dress.

"I can't just go there and ask her if her father kills people or not." Bruce ironically remarked while looking around smiling as people greeted him.

"Not like that, charm her...you can try to ask her out on a date. You're Bruce Wayne, who would deny it?" Dick ended the conversation by going away leaving Bruce alone with his thoughts.

He could at least try. If he noticed it wasn't working he'd just end things with her, simple

But it did work, it worked too well for him to even remember what the hell he was doing, he talked to you at the party smoothly asking you out on a date, and that date was perfect, different from any other date he had ever had, while other women would ask him about his 'extraordinary' life you asked him what his favorite book was, or when he'd say that something didn't work out for him instead of receiving a ''How! You're Bruce Wayne!'', he'd get advice or you'd help him through it.

You were...the most caring person he had ever met, and it hurt him every day to do what he was doing to you, but he was too engrossed to even try to stop it and when he did he'd just end up admiring you even more.

But he was going to do it now, he'd end whatever the two of you were having today, he was sure of it.

He had invited you to watch a movie in the screen room at his house and he'd find a way to end it.

"I'm going to get more popcorn for us. Not too much salt and definitely no butter, I know you, Bruce." You smiled and left the room with the empty popcorn bucket. This weird feeling formed in his stomach, maybe it was the anxiety of it all. All of a sudden warm arms hugged him from behind putting the popcorn on the seat next to him, he automatically kissed your cheek making you smile

You sat back down as Bruce looked at you with drunken eyes, he took your hand that was in your lap and kissed the back of it.

He was going to do it.

"You make me really happy."

He was going to do it.

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

He--

The two of you were now kissing passionately.

-

You were looking for Bruce in the middle of another party Gotham was hosting, with yet again many people making it even harder for you to find Bruce.

"Bruce!" You called out as you noticed he was walking towards an exit with a dark-haired young man, you walked through the crowd of people and finally made it to the exit.

"Bru--"

"Did you really not get anything, Bruce, we needed that information. Come on, you've been dating that girl for at least a month and she hasn't told you anything we can use against Carmine?"

Information? Use against my dad?

"What?" You whispered making the two look at you as Bruce's eyes widened, you scoffed and started walking away.

"Wait! Please, wait!" Bruce called out walking towards you, you stopped and turned around in anger.

"Where you using me, Bruce? I thought you cared and were genuinely interested in me! Was this shit all a lie?!" Tears threatened to fall from your eyes but you tried to resist the urge.

"Please let me explain--" But you didn't even let him finish, "Explain what, huh? How I was dumb enough to believe all the things that came out of your mouth? Or how I was stupid for even thinking you cared? Because I did! I cared about you and us, so much..." He looked at you with guilt in his eyes, he stepped forward then took a few more steps when he noticed you didn't step away.

"Please believe me now, I do care about you, and it was all true, all my emotions and all the things I said, all true. I made shitty decisions but none of it was fake." Bruce put his hand on your cheek , you looked at him for fe seconds, thinking.

You slowly put your hand on top of his hand that was resting on your cheek and pulled it away, toward his chest, pressing it there.

"Find someone else." You said turning around and walking away.

My dear

Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I was a child and an idiot, but you have to know that I meant everything and you were one of the only people who treated me like a human, and I'll always be extremely thankful for that.

I care so much about you and I will never forgive myself for how much I hurt you, you might not even read this letter but I'm still giving it a try, for you, I'd always try.

You were right, I did lie, but only for the first minutes after that every emotion I felt was real, you are the most beautiful person I've ever met and I do care about you, in fact I love you.

Just know that you will always have a place in my heart and that I'll always be here in case you need me.

Bruce Wayne

You read the letter that was sent to your office, and after reading it front to back you left work immediately, got into your car and raced through Gotham.

As you stopped in front of Wayne Manor you didn't know what to do, so you started with the basic going to the door and ringing the door bell.

"Nice seeing you again, I wasn't aware Master Bruce was getting a visit, please come in." Alfred said after opening the front door.

"Master Bruce is in his studies." He whispered before leaving you alone, you sighed and started walking.

"Alfred I'm busy, for the last time I don't want tea." Bruce said as you opened the door, he was writing another letter with his hands between his head thinking in what to write.

"I'm not here for tea." You answered closing the door and walking towards his desk, he immediately looked at you with maybe hope or something else in his eyes.

"I got your letter," You said walking towards a bookshelf full of old books.

"What you did, was hurtful, but I get it, my father isn't the best man in the world. I love you too." Your voice was almost like a whisper as you turned your head towards him.

"I don't know if you meant it or not when you wrote it in your letter but it's fair for you to know." As your body fully turned towards Bruce you gasped bumping into Bruce, who had swiftly gotten up from his chair.

"I love you, and I promise you I won't ever lie to you again. Never." He said hugging your body while kissing you.

"Okay, I got it, no need for these many emotions. Keep up with your emotionless reputation." The two of you laughed.