#the only prompt I planned to do from this calendar

[murderofsomeone]

LD'03TOBER Day 30: Mold En Mono

alt vers

[steveseddie]

pencil me in

written for the @steddiebingo kissing booth mini event | prompt: heart | rating: t | wc: 1,5k | tags: pre relationship, misunderstandings, dramatic eddie

read on ao3

Eddie arrives at Steve’s house with a mission– he’s finally going to ask him out on a date. A Valentine’s Day date where he’ll romance the hell out of Steve.

If he says yes, that is.

Eddie has his doubts, of course he does, but he also has reasons to believe this might work out. Reasons to believe that Steve might like him back.

Those are what gets Eddie to the front door where he rings the doorbell before whatever doubts he has make him turn around and leave.

His resolve falters slightly when Steve opens the door, dressed in sleeping clothes but somehow still looking as beautiful as ever. But he bounces right back when he notices that the shirt Steve is wearing is his Black Sabbath shirt. Little things like these are what make Eddie think he might actually score a date today.

“Eddie, hey.” Steve flashes him that lopsided grin that Eddie thinks he saves just for him. Another one of those little things.

Eddie waves, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Hi, Stevie.”

“I wasn’t expecting you,” Steve says, pushing his hair back. A stubborn strand of hair falls back over his forehead, making him huff in annoyance. “We– we didn’t have plans, did we?”

Eddie tsks. “I’m offended you think you could forget you and I had plans. Do you care so little about me?” He asks, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

Steve’s eyes dart to his lips for a split second before he rolls them. “Okay, drama queen,” he says, fondness lacing his tone. “Do you wanna come in or not? I was just about to have coffee.”

“Well, when you offer so nicely,” he teases, patting Steve’s cheek as he steps into the house.

He follows him to the kitchen and watches as he pours coffee in two mugs. The whole time Eddie is nervously playing with his rings, thinking about what he’s here to do.

He stops only when Steve hands him one of the mugs. “There you go. There’s milk in the fridge and I already added two spoonfuls of sugar.”

Eddie can’t help but melt like he does every time Steve remembers details about him– the way he likes his coffee, that he hates pickles, that strawberry is his favorite milkshake. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, walking to the fridge while Steve takes a sip from his own coffee. Black, like a heathen.

See? Eddie remembers things about Steve too. Then again, he’s also in love with the guy.

Time to do something about that, Eddie thinks.

“So, uh, Valentine’s Day is coming up,” he says, trying to steer the conversation where he wants it.

Steve leans back against the counter. “Mhm,” he hums into his coffee. “Are you going door to door telling people Valentine’s Day is a capitalistic holiday and an excuse for companies to make more money?”

Eddie clutches his chest. “Harrington, did you actually pay attention to my rants back in school?”

Steve chokes on his coffee, a slight pink tinge shading his cheeks. “N–No, I mean, I might’ve heard some of it, you’re loud, man. ‘S not like I had a choice.”

“Sure, Stevie,” Eddie says, shooting him a dimpled grin. “Anyway, no, I didn’t come here to lecture you about holidays being capitalist days of overconsumption.”

Steve tilts his head. “Why did you come here then?”

Eddie’s stomach churns as he realizes this is it. His fingers tighten around his coffee and he remembers he didn’t grab the milk. He thinks that something to do while asking Steve out might make things a little easier.

“Yeah, so I was thinking–” he starts, reaching for the fridge door, but the rest of the words die in his throat when he notices something on it.

See, like the Mother Hen that he is, Steve keeps a calendar on his fridge where he writes down everything from work shifts and doctor’s appointments to after-school pick-ups and group movie nights.

The first time Eddie saw the calendar, he wanted to call Steve a dork and tease him for having to keep track of his kids like that. But when he saw his name there, something warm bubbled up in his chest at the reminder that he was part of the group, of their lives, of Steve’s life. That they didn’t drop him as soon as the Upside Down was defeated. And just like that, making fun of Steve didn’t seem so important anymore.

Now, several months later, Eddie’s name is all over the calendar, but this time, that’s not what shuts him up.

No, it’s the word date written on the tiny square for February 14th, and the heart drawn around it.

Of course Steve has plans for Valentine’s Day. Of course it’s too late for Eddie to ask him out.

Of fucking course the moment he finally decides to make a move on Steve, he’s already got himself a date with someone else.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, snapping Eddie out of his spiral. He tears his eyes from that damn heart and glances at Steve, who’s waiting for him to finish what he was saying.

To finish asking him out. Except, he can’t do that anymore.

“I– I have to go,” he says instead, leaving his untouched coffee on the counter and backing away.

“What?”

“Yeah, I forgot I– I have to help Wayne with– uh, something.”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together. “Eddie–”

“Thanks for– for the coffee,” Eddie stammers out.

Steve huffs. “You didn’t even drink it.”

He takes two steps towards Eddie, who takes two steps back. “Sorry, I– I have to go.”

“Weren’t you gonna ask something about Valentine’s Day?” Steve asks when Eddie pivots and heads towards the door.

“Nope! Bye, Steve. Have fun with your date!”

“My– date?” Steve’s voice is laced with confusion. “Eddie, wait!”

Eddie doesn’t want to. He wants to leave, but Steve grabs him by the arm and pulls him to an abrupt stop.

He still won’t meet Steve’s eyes, though. At least not until Steve gives him no other choice by cupping his cheeks and forcing Eddie to look at him. He can’t help the way his stomach flutters at the touch and how close their faces are like this, and he has to remind himself that Steve has a date. This doesn’t mean anything.

“Why did you really come here, Eds?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does,” Steve huffs, his thumb brushing over Eddie’s cheek. “Because for a moment it seemed like you were here to ask me out on a Valentine’s Day date.”

Eddie groans, averting his gaze. “Steve, I said it doesn’t matter now–”

“Yes, it does!” Steve repeats, his arms falling to his sides in frustration.

Yeah, well. Eddie is frustrated too, damn it.

He crosses his arms over his chest. “It doesn’t because you already have a date!”

“Says who?”

“Your calendar, Steve!” He snaps. “The heart? The date you’ve got scheduled for Friday?”

“Yeah,” he says, “with you!”

What?

Eddie blinks. “But– you haven’t asked me.”

“I was going to,” Steve says softly. “But then you beat me to it.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, his heart picking up speed. Steve was going to ask him out. Holy shit.

“Yeah. So, are you gonna finish what you started or should I?” Steve says, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a tiny smirk.

This time, Eddie doesn’t hesitate, his doubts gone now. “Stevie, do you want to go on a date with me on Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah, Eds, I do,” he says, his smirk turning into that lopsided grin he saves just for Eddie.

He only gets a glimpse of that grin before Steve swoops in and presses their lips together, softly at first. When Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat and grabs a hold of his own Black Sabbath shirt to pull Steve closer, he kisses him harder, his tongue darting out and swiping along Eddie’s bottom lip. Eddie parts his lips, letting him in. He wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulders and stumbles back a few steps until his back hits the fridge, knocking a couple of magnets to the floor.

At the sound, Steve pulls back, his eyes focusing on something next to Eddie’s head as his lips twitch upwards. Before Eddie can ask what he’s looking at, Steve grabs the marker stuck to the fridge and writes something on the calendar.

Curious, Eddie turns his head. Now where they used to say just date Steve added something else.

Date with Eddie.

That same warm and fluttery feeling from the first time he saw his name there comes back, only tenfold. And so does the need to tease Steve.

“Can’t believe you had our date scheduled even before you asked me,” he says with a shake of his head. “That’s pretentious of you, sweetheart.”

Steve shrugs. “I was right, wasn’t it?” He says, grinning smugly.

With a laugh, Eddie agrees. “Damn right, you were,” he says, pulling Steve in for another kiss.

[sinofwriting]

Protective - Max Verstappen ( I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 910 Word Prompt: Protective (Part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse) Note(s): Takes place during the Baku 2024 race weekend. Also I hate James Vowles

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse | Sin’s Sept. Blurbs

Logan is a momma’s boy. It’s something he’s known for as long as he can remember. It’s something that has been thrown in his face, a taunt, a tease, as if he’s supposed to be ashamed that he loves his mom. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his mom and that includes ending what was supposed to be a good month of silence from him other than a short interview he did just after the news broke and the quickly deleted statement he put out.

He’s no longer an F1 driver for the 2024 season, but he still is traveling with the calendar. He hadn’t used the hotel room Williams booked for him since Australia, not when Red Bull always gives Max a suite and there’s always a little envelope with Logan’s name on it that holds a key.

He had stayed completely in the hotel during Monza. He loves the amount of support Charles gets, loves how passionate they are, but it’s a lot to be around, to walk around. He also doesn’t need to hear another drunk Italian man shout about wanting desperately to have Charles’ babies.

He had planned to do the same in Baku just because he didn’t feel like exploring Baku. But then a video gets leaked.

And that’s the end of Logan’s silence.

He shows up on Friday by himself. His parents are already in the Red Bull garage, waiting for him, but they know that he’ll be awhile.

He smiles at fans when they cheer and greet him, taking his time to sign stuff and take pictures, ignoring the hungry photographers and reporters that are watching. He squeezes the hands of fans who despite what happened are wearing his number and telling them how much they love him.

He takes a few more photos before finally pulling away from the fans and beginning to walk. It doesn’t take long before someone finally pounces. A microphone being handed to him, that he easily takes and a camera trained on him and oh great, he wants to roll his eyes a bit, Will Buxton.

“Logan, how are you doing?”

Logan smiles, nodding at some of the people he recognizes from other teams as they pass by. “I’m good. Enjoying the weather.”

Will laughs and it’s so fake it grates on Logan’s ears. “And are you here for duties with Williams?”

His eyes are hungry, his whole expression is. He clearly wants to press and dig deep but is trying to be patient.

He shakes his head, “Here to support my dad. I no longer am associated with Williams.” He knows fans had speculated after seeing his name cleared from their website, but the dissociation had only become official just three hours ago.

“Really? Not even development.”

He shakes his head, smiling. “Ties have been cut, man.” He laughs.

“And Logan, the video that has been circulating these past twelve hours, have you seen it? What are your thoughts?”

“I have seen it. And it’s disgusting really. James has never been shy about sharing his feelings about me and that’s fine, I was a driver on his team, I was a driver. But there’s no reason to bring up and say things about someone who isn’t a part of the team or any of the teams, but is just part of the driver’s staff and a parent. I could see why if they were disruptive or causing a mess, making a scene, but that isn’t the case.”

Will nods, “I couldn’t agree more, Logan.”

“I also want to say thank you to all the people who have been talking about this and talking about the words he said about my mom. I haven’t yet seen a statement put out, but I hope that what he said isn’t brushed aside.”

“I hope so as well.”

“I still say I should get to punch him.” Max comments after they finish watching Logan’s interviews and Logan can’t help but hum in agreement.

“Max.” Christian sighs, though he looks more amused than anything.

“If he wants to call someone a whore, he should call himself that. He has a wife and baby at home and yet is talking about meeting with Carlos in hotel rooms. And calling Pan a bitch just because she supported Logan? Fuck him.”

“We know, Max.” GP nearly looks bored, but there’s a glint in his eyes that Logan just knows means trouble for the Williams team principal.

A throat clears and everyone looks at his mom. “I think we all need to calm down. Especially you,” she gently pokes Logan’s forehead, before running her fingers through his hair. “The protective thing is nice, but it’s not the first time I’ve been called those things and it won’t be the last. We need to be adults about it.”

Logan frowns at her words. “You’ve been called a whore before?”

Max is frowning as well and something churns in Logan’s gut.

“Yes.” She says simply.

“Momma.”

She shakes her head, “No more interviews, Logan. Not about this at least. You didn’t say anything wrong, but I don’t want people thinking that it’s okay for them to just ask and talk about.”

She then turns to Max and Logan watches as she stares at him. “Do I even bother asking you to not say anything?”

Max shrugs. “You could.”

She sighs. “Just don’t threaten him. The FIA is already looking closely at you.”

“No threats.” He agrees.

[4doras]

LONG LIST OF MY LOVE ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

you never meant to end up on your boyfriend’s notes app ⊹♡

genre. fluff, est. relationship

wc. 0.9k

req. “hii! i recently stumbled upon this prompt "using your partner's phone and discovering a note that has all of your likes/dislikes/food orders etc. written." and i think this is soo woonhak-coded, could i please request a woonhak fic with this prompt ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ”

a/n. hi annonieeee!! thank u sosososooo much for this req ITS SO CUTEEE (｡>▽<｡)

“woonhak!” you yelled from your seat on the sofa to your boyfriend, who was, as per usual, playing games. his headphones blasted with the voices of his friends, and you knew that just calling him just once wouldn’t make a difference. “woon.” you walked up behind him, rapidly tapping him on the shoulder. finally, he turned his head around, sliding one side of his headset behind his ear. “hm?” his face was innocent and sweet, very unlike how he was acting just moments before. “can i use your phone? mine just died.” promptly shoving your phone's blank screen in front of woonhak’s face. “yeah, sure, baby. it’s on the table over there.” he smiled before pointing at the coffee table in the middle of your apartment. “thanks.” you kissed him on the cheek before scurrying to take his phone and charge yours.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✩˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

more under the cut!

it really wasn’t your intention to be sneaking around on woonhak’s phone; hiding the screen from him (even though he was meters away, eyes glued onto his computer) discreetly scrolling through his never ending camera roll wasn’t what you imagined you’d be doing when you asked to use his phone.

a breach of privacy? yes, it was. entertaining to see the cute pictures he’d taken of him, you and his friends? yes, too.

you only planned to use his phone to watch videos on youtube and then you’d return it once your phone had fully charged, but if you would check your phone now, it’d be at 101%. your boyfriend’s phone had become more interesting.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✩˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

games? looked through. calendar? seen. camera roll? you’d seen every picture he’d taken. you hadn’t a clue what to do next.

woonhak was still busying himself at the computer, shouting into the small microphone that stuck out from the headphones.

what would woonhak do if he was on your phone?

it was hard to think about, considering if he was on your phone he’d probably just be playing the millions of games you had installed on it.

but that’s when it hit you.

his notes app.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✩˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

you weren’t sure if he had the same sort of stuff you did on your notes app; a wish list, quick grocery lists, the spontaneous vent of anger, the yearning for a man who you already had. woonhak most definitely had the opposite of yours. it might’ve even been empty, still asking him to sign in with his apple id.

except what you had in mind was the complete flip side of what he did have.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✩˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

in the start, it was everything you had expected — a list of everyone’s birthdays, followed by another full of gifts he could get them. song ideas, song titles, short snippets of lyrics. it didn’t really matter to you.

until you scrolled to the bottom of them all.

“hjakeojskqmsl”

what?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✩˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

you hesitantly clicked on it, somewhat scared of what you would see.

then, you saw it. a long paragraph full of things you liked and disliked.

woonhak — the boy who never seemed put together, wasn’t very neat, and was always clumsy — had written all of this… about you?

of course, you were his girlfriend. that was no question and he took his boyfriend responsibilities very seriously. but you never thought he would write every single detail about your likes and dislikes.

the more you read, the more you saw how detailed he was about everything you said or told him. it looked as if he had written every single word you said and copied it down.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ✩˚ ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

you were so lost in reading his “self written long list of y/n” as he called it in the subheading, that you didn’t notice him ending the call with his friends, shutting down his computer, or his voice calling you.

“y/n? your phone’s done charging.” he unplugged it, walking towards you to pass it over in exchange for his.

“wait! i’m not done rea— watching!” you slammed his phone onto the bed, protecting the screen from his eyes.

“rea? what were you gonna say, y/n?” he attempted to snatch his phone back, but you quickly pulled it away from him. you couldn’t let him see that you were sneaking about on his phone, he wouldn’t let you on his phone ever again!

“nothing! i’m watching a video, woon, let me finish it.” you pleaded, hoping he’d get off your tail. “fine, but i’ll watch with you.” he sat right beside you, reaching over to the other side to get his phone from you. “woonhak!” but it was too late, he already had a hold on his phone.

“you were on my notes app?” he would never believe you. about how it wasn’t your intention to invade his privacy and be checking through his apps unbeknowingly to him. for all you knew, he could just break up with you on the spot.

“i’m sorry, woonhak. i really was watching videos, but i got bored and went through your apps and—” he cut you off. “how much did you read?” he didn’t seem to care that you were going through his apps, it felt more like he cared about his dignity. “i mean, i didn’t finish reading it since you took it… but until the part where you said ‘y/n likes sunsets. i like them too because she looks extra beautiful when it shines on her face.’ but that’s about it.” you recalled his exact words, memorising it like a script.

“ugh!” he tackled you to the bed, hiding his face in your chest. “it’s so embarrassing…” he mumbled into your shirt. “what? it’s not embarrassing at all, woonhak. i think it’s kinda cute, y’know.” you held him in your arms, giggling as he whined. “whatever…” he played with the ends of your hair, pouting his lips.

woonhak could forgive you for anything you’ve done, but this? woonhak would never forgive you for this.

[steddieas-shegoes]

a birthday halfway forgot

for @corrodedcoffinfest pop-up event 'birthday boy' using the prompt 'birthday' and 'age 30'

rated e, minors dni | 3132 words | no cw | tags: famous corroded coffin, band manager steve, established relationship, fucking on a motorcycle is ill-advised but they do it anyway, hand jobs, anal sex, domestic fluff

🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️

He’s looking at the calendar in shock. He didn’t know. He didn’t realize.

It’s January 26th.

It’s Eddie’s 30th birthday. It’s Gareth’s 27th birthday.

Somehow, he lost track of dates in all of the chaos of planning the next tour and being so focused on the April through September parts of the calendar.

“Shit.”

He immediately calls Jeff because he’s sure the next most mature human being in their codependent group of misfits hasn’t forgotten. There’s no way Jeff forgot.

“Shit,” he says when Steve asks.

He forgot.

“Okay. It’s not the end of the world! It’s still early.”

Steve looks at the clock. It is early, but they don’t have time to plan something.

“Make a reservation at that Italian place they both like. The one with the fried meatballs. I’ll get cake. It’ll be fine,” Steve is good in crisis. He’s proven time and time again how quickly he can fix problems on tour. He can do it for this, too. “They won’t know we forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Eddie asks from behind Steve.

“The appointment we made for everyone to see the doctor before tour!” Steve says, way too loud to be considered normal.

Luckily, Eddie is used to Steve being a little manic during the planning stages of tour and doesn’t question his volume or strained smile.

“Is that Gare? He was supposed to call me when he got up,” Eddie steps closer. “It’s almost noon; There’s no way he’s still asleep.”

“It’s Jeff.”

“Jeffery!” Eddie grabs the phone from Steve’s hand and waves his free hand around. “Haven’t you taken my husband away from me enough lately?”

Steve rolls his eyes. It’s not his fault they choose to handle most things themselves instead of outsourcing all the tour management to the label. It’s better if Steve and Jeff take care of things.

They talk for a few minutes and Steve decides he needs to pull out the phone book to find a bakery. It’s gonna be a hell of a challenge to find someone capable of personalizing a cake within a few hours, but if anyone can, it’s Steve.

Eddie ends up driving to Gareth’s instead of waiting for his call, which makes Steve’s life a lot easier. He finds a bakery— only had to call six before someone was willing— and tries not to worry too much about how much he’s paying just for a cake. They have money. They can afford an expensive cake.

Eddie and Gareth deserve it.

Steve cannot believe he forgot.

||||||||||||

“You forgot,” Eddie laughs.

The restaurant is empty except for the guys and a handful of staff ready to wait on their every want and need. There’s a balloon on the centerpiece of the table and one gift sitting next to it.

Steve groans.

“Jeff forgot, too.”

Eddie kisses his temple and walks over to the gift. Steve knows it’s Gareth’s gift. Eddie’s can’t be wrapped.

“Hey!” Jeff exclaims, but Eddie waves him off.

“We didn’t forget your birthdays, we just forgot what day it was entirely,” Steve continues. “Sorry, baby.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie says and really means it. Eddie doesn’t get upset about this stuff, Steve knows that. “Gareth and I had a bet.”

“That’s what you had to go over to talk to him about?” Steve looks over at Gareth, who is flirting with the waitress while everyone else sits at the table. “How much did you bet?”

“He bet that you guys forgot and wouldn’t remember until we told you. $200.”

“And you?”

Eddie laughs. “I bet that you’d remember in time to pull off a surprise but just barely. $500.”

“Wow. Does he even have that kinda money laying around?” Steve jokes. He does. They all do. They have more money than they need. Their money has money. Literally. It’s accruing interest in accounts.

“You know exactly how much money I have,” Gareth says as he lays an arm around Steve’s shoulders and smacks a kiss on his cheek. “You balanced my checkbook last week and I swear I’ve only spent a few grand since.”

Steve knows he’s joking, but his heart stutters in his chest anyway. Just because they have it doesn’t mean they should be frivolous with it. He knows they all know that, but Gareth is still quick to sign a check for pleasure sometimes.

“Happy birthday, Gare,” Steve says as he leans his head on top of Gareth’s. “Sorry we forgot a little.”

“Eh, it was only a little. We’re celebrating now. Plus, I’m only turning 27. Grandpa over here should start drafting his retirement announcement.”

“I would, but I haven’t developed arthritis yet,” Eddie says as he grabs one of the fried meatballs from the plate near the end of the table. “At the rate you crack your knuckles, you’ll be celebrating your 28th in a care facility.”

“Alright, enough. Let’s order drinks and stop making the staff nervous,” Steve starts to gather everyone to the table, take the lead the way he usually does. It’s natural, and easy, and fun. He likes being the beacon of responsibility for this group. It’s different from his role with the kids in Hawkins— less life or death most of the time— but still a glorified babysitter position. “Behave like the adults you claim to be.”

“Wayne Munson just came out of your mouth,” Eddie says as he sits. “Not sure I like it.”

Steve ignores the bait. He’ll never get them all to be decent guests at this restaurant if he keeps going back and forth with Eddie.

They spend so much time together already, but it’s never difficult to be around each other. They really are codependent at this point; Where one goes, at least one more will follow and he’ll bring beer and sarcasm.

Gareth opens his present, eyes shining when he sees that everyone chipped in to get him the record player he loved when they went to an old record shop in Chicago. It was considered antique and the owner of the shop wasn’t even interested in selling it to him, but Steve is a convincing guy, and the rest of the guys pulled out their own checkbooks to make it happen.

They grabbed a few records for him, too, but he’s already talking about the list he has and where they can find them. Everyone listens because it’s his birthday, only throwing in jibes occasionally instead of constantly. It’s his birthday so they’re taking it easy.

“I guess my gift is these fried meatballs,” Eddie finally says. He doesn’t sound disappointed; That’s how much he loves the fried meatballs.

“Your gift is at home,” Steve pats his knee, dismissive.

Eddie wiggles his brows. “From everyone or just you?”

“Part of it is from everyone,” Steve allows.

“I’m ready to go!” Eddie claps his hands. “Thanks for coming, happy birthday to my birthday twin, blah blah blah.”

Frankie rolls his eyes and reaches for one of the meatballs on Eddie’s plate.

“Just remember the part that came from all of us is not the part you’re so excited about,” he says with his mouth full.

“Love you all, but I definitely have no interest in fucking any of you. See ya!” He waves as he gets up and leaves.

Everyone looks at Steve. He pats Gareth on the shoulder and smiles at everyone else.

“See you guys tomorrow. Not early, though. Unless you wanna see something you’ll never forget,” Steve winks.

Everyone groans but they wave and say goodbye with smiles on their faces.

Eddie’s sitting in the passenger seat when Steve gets to the car. He’s a passenger princess through and through and Steve loves him for it.

“Step on it, baby!”

Steve steps on it, but maintains the speed limit because the last thing they need is a ticket.

||||||

He doesn’t park in the garage because he can’t.

Eddie’s immediately suspicious.

“It’s supposed to rain early in the morning. Don’t you wanna pull the car in?” He asks.

“Can’t.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t.”

“Oh my god.”

Steve smirks. Eddie unbuckles his seatbelt and practically falls out of the car as he bangs on the garage door.

“Open it!” He yells at Steve, who has the button in the car, but thinks this is way more entertaining than doing what Eddie asks. He could always unlock the door and get inside that way, but he knows Eddie realizes what his present is now.

They went all out for his 30th. Even the kids got involved. Wayne picked it out. This has been their best kept secret for months.

The fact that Steve forgot today was the day is crazy in hindsight. He’s had this date circled as delivery day for nearly a month.

Steve finally pushes the button to open the door and Eddie barely waits for it to be lifted above his waist before he’s ducking inside. He screams. High-pitched, girlish in nature, entertaining as hell. Steve almost wishes he could’ve thought to bring the camcorder with him to record this special moment.

“Steve!” Eddie exclaims when he’s done squealing. “A Harley?!”

Steve casually walks into the garage and wraps his arm around Eddie’s waist, kissing his temple.

“Wayne said this is really close to the one you liked when you two went on that trip together,” Steve explains. “We can always paint it if the color isn’t right.”

“It’s perfect. Don’t touch it. It’s perfect,” he babbles, leaving Steve’s arm to sit on the seat, bouncing once as if to test how squishy the seat is.

It’s squishy. Steve checked.

“The helmet even has bats painted on it!” Eddie reaches for the helmet hanging from the handle. “And my name! Stevie!”

“And the helmet is required. Even if you’re just going to Gareth’s house or to the store. No helmet, no motorcycle,” Steve places his hands on his hips. He means business and Eddie knows it better than anyone that safety comes before fun, always.

“I know, I know. I can’t believe this,” Eddie says, still in awe. “I didn’t think you’d ever cave. Who convinced you?”

See, Eddie’s wanted his own bike for at least four years now, ever since he and Wayne went on a bike tour of the Appalachian Mountains. Steve wasn’t necessarily against it, he just knew they didn’t have much time at home to enjoy it, and he did worry that Eddie wouldn’t prioritize safety over fun if he got carried away.

He hates that Frankie of all people managed to convince him by saying there’s nothing hotter than fucking on a Harley.

He’s hoping Frankie’s right.

Instead of answering the question, Steve presses the button that closes the garage door and walks over to the bike.

“You ready for part two?”

“I don’t even know how this can get any better, but sure,” Eddie looks up at him with wide eyes.

Steve pulls off his shirt, kicks off his shoes, and strips off his pants and underwear. He shivers, but not because he’s cold. Winter looks a lot different in California than it did in Hawkins, that’s for sure.

“Oh my god. I must be dreaming,” Eddie grins as he leans back, making room for Steve to straddle his thighs on the bike.

It’s a sturdy bike, so he’s not too worried about it falling over while they do this, but a small voice in his head is still telling him to make small movements. He’s not letting Eddie fuck him on this thing until they test it like this.

Steve’s half-hard at the thought of Eddie holding him up on this thing, letting him bounce on his cock. Maybe he’s fantasized about Eddie being a mechanic fixing his car and Steve’s only way to pay for the labor is to ride him until they’re both sweaty and messy, oil stains leaving fingerprints on Steve’s skin.

That’s not what’s happening now, and won’t actually happen ever, but this is close enough.

“Been thinking about you touching me all day,” Steve admits. It’s true, but he’s playing it up a little, fluttering his eyelashes a little. “I wanna take a ride, too.”

“I’ve gotta be the luckiest man in the world,” Eddie groans as he wraps his hand around Steve’s length, squeezing the head of his cock and jerking his hand a few times to bring him to full hardness. “I’ve had this exact dream.”

“How’d the dream go?” Steve gasps as Eddie touches him the right way over and over. He’s good at this, always has been. He finds the right pace and pressure, and he just keeps going, listening for any sign that Steve’s not feeling perfect.

“I got to make you come and then lay you down on the seat and lick you clean,” Eddie ends on a moan. “Please let me do that, baby. I’ll do anything.”

Steve nods, would never stop Eddie from doing that. This sounds like a dream he’s had, too.

His hands hold onto Eddie’s shoulders as he tilts his hips up to push into Eddie’s grasp. He’s close, so close already. He doesn’t think they’ll ever stop being embarrassingly quick when they get their hands on each other.

It’s a gift to know someone so well that you feel like teenagers every time you touch each other.

“C’mon,” Eddie nips at Steve’s neck, breath hot against his skin. “Make a mess, baby.”

Steve’s always been good at following directions. He moans as he comes, paints his own stomach and Eddie’s hand, opens his eyes to see cum dripping onto the seat under him. He’s sure Eddie doesn’t mind.

He feels shaky, unstable, but only because the bike rocks under them as Eddie pulls his own shirt off and stands, moving Steve so he’s laying back. It’s far from comfortable, but it’s hot as hell.

Eddie licks the cum off Steve’s stomach and dick, takes his time while Steve sucks on his fingers. They’re both still worked up too much to stop, and now that Steve’s slowly coming down, he realizes he wants Eddie to fuck him. Now.

“Get your pants off,” Steve demands.

“Say please,” Eddie teases before sucking a bruise into Steve’s hip.

“Please,” Steve begs, because it’s Eddie’s birthday and he’s gonna do whatever Eddie wants. Eddie likes when he begs a little, even though they both know there’s no need for it. “Fuck me.”

“You look so good like this,” Eddie says as he shoves his pants off. “Not even sure I need to drive this thing if I can have you like this all the time.”

“No more band? Touring? Just fucking me on your motorcycle?” Steve’s laugh turns into a groan when Eddie’s finger circles his hole. “Not sure we can back out of this tour now.”

“You and I both know I’ll find plenty of places to fuck you on tour,” Eddie smiles down at him. “Comfy or do you need to move?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m okay for now. Just want you inside me.”

Eddie opens him up efficiently, doesn’t rub against his prostate until he’s got three fingers inside him.

Trying to stay still is proving to be difficult, and Steve’s pretty sure their pushing the limits of the kickstand.

“C’mon, I’m good. I’m ready,” Steve says. “Fuck me, Eddie, c’mon.”

Fucking on a motorcycle is not easy to do, but they’ve actually fucked in more difficult positions before.

One time, Steve fucked Eddie over an amp backstage. It wasn’t wide enough for either of them to properly sit on, but they managed. They had bruises and some strange red marks for a day or two, but it was worth it.

Another time, the hotel they were staying in had a balcony. Kind of. It was barely more than a small extension of the room with an iron bar around it, but they put that iron bar to the test. It passed, they were sore.

They have to be slow, slower than they normally would be. Steve doesn’t wanna have to bring it in for scuff marks to be buffed out if it falls over on day one.

If he were less flexible, maybe a little older, he’d have to call it. His legs are tight around Eddie’s waist and he’s using more of his ab muscles than he’s used in years to maintain his own stability.

Eddie blankets himself over Steve, barely moving in and out of him. The friction of Steve’s leaking cock against his stomach is probably enough to get him there.

Eddie brushes Steve’s bangs off his face, kisses his forehead, and moans when Steve clenches around his cock.

“I love you so much,” Eddie whispers. “You’re the best gift.”

Steve kisses him, mouth open, tongue licking over his teeth. It’s wet and messy, and it’s perfect. The phone’s ringing inside the house, but they’re too close to care about trying to answer. They’ll leave a message.

They both come together, whimpering into each others’ mouths as Eddie’s hips stutter and Steve’s legs fall.

Eddie kisses the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his neck. He pulls out slowly, and they both wince at the loss of being filled and being surrounded.

“Let’s get cleaned up. I wanna take this for a ride,” Eddie helps Steve off the bike. “You got a helmet?”

Steve nods. “I assumed you’d want me to come with you at least once.”

“I’ve had dreams, Stevie.”

They both laugh and the phone starts ringing again. Eddie sighs and rushes to get inside.

“Hello?” Steve follows, closing the door behind him. His legs feel numb, almost enough to make him stumble. “Gare, you knew what my gift was and you’re still calling?”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Of course I love it. No, you can’t come over for a ride tonight. No, you can’t drive it. No!” Steve is giggling as he kisses Eddie’s shoulder on his way past him to their room. “I don’t care if it’s your birthday, too. It’s my gift.”

Steve drops his clothes in the basket and goes into the bathroom to start the shower. He has no doubt that they’ll get messy again before the night’s over, but they should try to look decent if they’re taking the Harley out for a spin.

He hears Eddie telling Gareth not to call back until tomorrow as he steps into the hot water.

Gareth will worm his way into driving it by the end of the week, Steve’s sure of it. Eddie’s got a soft spot for him that can be seen from space. That’s why there’s a helmet for Gareth sitting in a box in the living room.

Steve thought of everything.

“Does cum stain leather?” Eddie asks as he steps into the shower.

Steve’s brows furrow.

Maybe he didn’t think of everything.

[magicaldestinyharmony]

In Life and In Death Pt. 3

Summary: over the course of their repeated lives, Lucas Puhlavan becomes obsessed with Count Balcom’s fifth daughter. You.

male!knight x female!count's daughter!reader part 3

CW: mentions of death, whipping, drugs, human trafficking, gambling, human hunting and murder.

WC: around 2k words

A/N: I have finally finished potion number 3 in this series!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 4]

Your eyes flutter open. Once you glimpse the sight of your all-too-familiar ceiling, you deadpan.

What do you have to do to stop this? You sigh and cover your eyes from the onslaught of the sunlight. 

You're so sick and tired of it at this point. Waking up, working and spending so much effort to survive, only to fail and end up dead in the end.

You groan and turn on your side once you remember the date. You're starting to hate this number. No matter what you do, you pick up the calendar to see it there, in its black, bold glory.

Aida should be coming in anytime soon. You sigh when you hear the well-timed knock on your door.

“My lady?” Aida opens the door carefully, scared of waking you up. “Are you up? It's time for breakfast.”

A puff of air escapes you again. “I'm up, Aida.” You invite the maid inside your room.

“Oh, good. Let's get you ready for breakfast.”

“Do I have to, Aida? Can't I just have it in bed?” you plead.

Aida’s brows furrow in confusion. “ Well, I guess you could, miss. However, may I ask, is there a particular reason?”

“I'm just tired.” of life, of death. Of everything really.

Aida nods in understanding and leaves to fetch your breakfast.

Aida pins the last decoration in your hair and steps back. “Ta-da! What do you think, my lady?”

You glance at yourself in the mirror, uninterested. You've been through this so many times that the glamour of dressing up has lost its allure.

You hesitantly walk down the stairs, reluctant to see your father. If you didn't already hate him, you downright loathe him now.

Everything plays exactly as you recall. Yet when your eyes meet Lucca's, you're hit with an idea.

Why didn't you think of this before? Instead of taking care of Lucca now and letting him die later. Why not make him indebted to you? Thwart your father's plans so Lucca can keep his life and you can keep yours.

With this new drive fueling you, you approach him. “Hello. Are you alright?”

Lucca watches you in silence. You reach out to him. “Are you alr-”

Lucca smacks your hand away. The sound echoes throughout the entrance hall and you cringe in pain.

The noise turns the count's attention towards you. He smirks at the scene in front of him. You pale under his scrutiny and cold gaze. 

“Well, well, well, I see that you dared to injure a Balcom, boy.” The man takes sick pleasure in watching both children cower before him.

“For injuring my precious daughter's hand, you will receive 15 whips.” A sinister grin creeps onto your father's face.

Little tremors shake your body. Lucca did nothing wrong. He doesn't deserve this. “W-wait! It-it wasn't his fault!”

“I see.” Your father nods in consideration. “You have a compassionate heart, daughter of mine.”

Your father pats you. “But,” his voice turns cold. “Compassion gets you nowhere in life. Do you still want to stop his punishment?”

Your father's pats turn into an iron grip on your head. He tilts his head, prompting your response, “N-no. Wh-when wronged, we sh-should give back tenfold what we received. I-its's the Balcom way, right?” The automated response rolls off your tongue while you shake in fear.

Your father smiles. “Good job.” He gives you one final pat and turns to a maid. “Take him to the dungeons and make sure to give him his punishment.”

With that, your father departs, leaving deadly silence in his wake.

◇◇◇

Who knew that standing in front of an office could be so nerve-wracking? After taking another deep breath, you hesitantly knock on your father's office.

The door cracks open to reveal your father’s loyal aide. “My lady? What do you need?”

“Can I see Father?” you mutter out.

“Let me ask the count.” The aide turns around, leaving you in front of the door.

He returns shortly and ushers you in. “So, what do you want?” your father asks without looking up.

Gathering your courage, you say, “I want that boy.”

Only then does your father look up. “That boy?”

“Yes. The boy you brought in this morning.”

Your father scratches his chin in thought. “And what will you give me in return?”

You gulp. You expected him to say that. Your father is known for not giving without taking. “I'll give you information about House Devoy. Pivotal information.”

“Oho, and is this information credible?”

You nod. “Very well. When will I receive this information?”

“I will have it ready in two days,” you confirm.

“Alright.” Your father's gaze turns into a glare. “But if your information turns out to be wrong, you won't escape punishment.”

“Understood.” You bow and leave.

Once the door to your room closes behind you, you collapse in relief. Let's hope that the information you remember from your past lives is enough to save your neck.

You bring double the amount of bandages and ointment on your nightly trip to the dungeons. With the extra abuse Lucca went through today, courtesy of yours truly, you certainly needed more.

After bribing the guard and gaining access to Lucca's cell, you get to work on treating his wounds.

As soon as Lucca feels the cold, stinging sensation of the ointment, he opens his eyes. You make eye contact. He glares at you. You shake your head, ignoring him and continue working.

Once Lucca's last wound has been patched up, you leave the bread you got him and stand up to leave.

You feel his gaze on you the whole time, trying to size you up. “Why do you care?” You barely hear him whisper.

“You got hurt because of me. Of course, I care,” you firmly say.

Lucca scoffs but makes no further comments. You shrug, used to his apathy. This time you were able to leave without any incidents.

◇◇◇

The next morning, you hand a list of everything you remember about Count Devoy to your father. You pray that the information is good enough to keep you and Lucca alive.

You were informed by your father's aide that processing and proving the intel you gave will take some time. Three days to be precise. But you weren't allowed to have Lucca till after. Bastard. You were sure your father took pleasure in tormenting his kids.

Whatever. It was nothing new. It was well-known that your father was a repulsive man. At least to people with a strong sense of justice.

Your father sickened you. He doesn't hesitate to dabble in the illegal. Unlicensed auction houses, drug selling and human trafficking are just some of the things that your father does.

The problem is that he likes doing these things. His hobbies are no less disgusting. He enjoys gambling, the company of many women and hunting.

Not your typical animal hunting. He hunts slaves. Buys them then releases them into a forest on the territory to be hunted.

Yet, his reputation is still intact. Your father spends lots of money to keep his activities under the rug. In fact, he's so well regarded that if someone speaks up, they'll be immediately ignored and silenced. Voluntarily or forcefully.

You shake your head in loathing. Dwelling further on this will only cause a bad mood.

Instead, you opt to go for a walk in the hope that the wind blowing through your hair will calm your turbulent thoughts.

At dinner, you were surprised to find yourself seated to the right of your father. You can practically feel the hatred rolling off your half-siblings.

According to noble etiquette, during a meal, the household's head sits at the head of the table, dubbed as the seat of honour.

The next most important person is seated to the right of the seat of honour. Then the third most important to their left, then the fourth on the right and so on.

In a highly competitive family like yours, getting the seat on the right of the head’s seat essentially means the favour of the count. Not a position you necessarily want.

The meal proceeds in suffocating silence. The only sounds are the clinking of plates and spoons echoing in the room.

At the end of the meal, your father makes a comment that you wish he never uttered, “I'm very pleased with you.”

As soon as he leaves, your half-siblings look at you with obvious murderous intent. Bastard. You were certain that your father thrives on the discord between his children.

As the fifth daughter, your chance at succession is practically non-existent. Sitting at the right of the seat of honour and getting a compliment from the head suggests that you're participating in the fight for succession.

So all in all, your father raised the risk of your death. Not a good thing.

◇◇◇

You were incredibly relieved when your father finally handed Lucca over to you. You hope that avoiding your father from now on will reduce the attention on yourself.

While Aida and the family doctor give Lucca a checkup, you give orders to other maids to set up the room beside yours for him.

You make sure the room is immaculate. The last thing you need is Lucca feeling compelled to kill you over an improper room. With instructions in place, you meet up with Aida in front of the infirmary. 

“How is he?” you ask, once you reach her.

“The doctor said he's severely malnourished and suffering from multitudes of wounds,” your maid dutifully replies.

You grimace. “Is it serious?”

“Some of them are,” Aida says, sullen.

You frown. “Let me see him.”

Aida nods and opens the door to let you in.

You blink your eyes against the sunlight streaming in through the window across the room. Shielding your eyes, you notice that the whole room is made from walnut wood. The desk and chair to your right are cluttered with paper and books. The left side of the room houses a table and a modest library. The table has what you assume to be a mix of herbal plants and medicine concoctions on it. A small table and seats are tucked at the back of the room. Overall, it has a warm vibe to it.

You turn to the bed situated in the corner beside the window. Lucca sits on it, white sheets tucked around him, staring out the open window. The white sheer curtains flutter around him. The wind flows through the window, taking his silver strands for a ride. He looks dwarfed in the bedding, his arms look scrawny and pale against the white of the sheet. His body is littered with bandages. 

Your heart lurches at the sight. While nothing justifies him killing you over and over again, you realize that he was just a kid. Is a kid. He lost his family overnight, endured abuse from the count and fought an evil dragon as the Divine Warrior. It was no wonder how the kid ended up the way he did.

“Are you done staring?” Lucca speaks without turning around.

You answer his question with a question, “How are you feeling?”

Lucca shrugs and you sigh, exasperated at his non-answer.

Pulling up a stool beside the bed, you stare at his small frame again. A child should never have to undergo such hardship.

Another breeze streams through the open glass panes, ruffling your hair and blocking your vision for a moment. Moving the strands away, you notice that Lucca has finally faced you. You grin, loving the feeling of the air in your hair and pleased that he’s finally looking at you.

It feels somehow freeing to feel the flutter of the wind caressing you. You hold Lucca’s gaze, smiling, hoping that he shares (or at least) feels your joy.

When he doesn’t say anything, you turn to face the lush green visible through the window. Lucca doesn’t turn away, keeping his eyes on you. The silence feels liberating. Now, at this moment, you aren’t a murderer and his victim. You are just two children enjoying the wind. 

So you don’t break the silence, content to watch the birds drift from branch to branch while Lucca watches you.

[akutasoda]

kiss me again for good luck

prompt - midnight kisses

including - dr ratio

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, wc - 754

a/n: req by another another lovely anon ^^ hope your having an amazing day/night as well!! -> "Hey, i wanted to send in a request for the New years Event, if thats okay! Can i request a Ratio x Reader with "midnight kisses"♡? Thanks and have a great day/night!"

[art creds @/amaichiesora]

ratio let out a sigh, a long drawn heavy one that clearly signified his annoyance. he shifted a glance to a small box displaying numbers that were periodically increasing, scowling slightly in the process.

“you agreed to go” you hummed from beside him, your eyes focused forward as the elevator slightly hummed in the background.

he scoffed in both denial and defeat. you were right and there was nothing that could be done to change his agreement - especially now you were both standing in the elevator with little time before you arrived.

it was one of the IPC's annual parties and this one was specifically designated to welcome in a new calendar year in. all branches of the IPC were invited and therefore so was the intelligentsia guild, ratio included.

you both knew very well that those events weren't really his scene but ratio had agreed to go for some reason along the lines of “showing face” and maintaining a somewhat decent relationship with coworkers. you had been dragged along by ratio who claimed he needed at least one tolerable person there.

veritas did not want to stay very long and so you both agreed it was beneficial to stay until the main event was over and everything started stemming into after parties of sort. you reminded him of such a plan in the elevator just before it stopped and the doors opened with a ding.

as expected of ratio, he insisted you stuck close by his side, something you didn't mind doing too much seeing as you barely knew anyone else there, and if it helped him then that was even more of a reason.

ratio made a quick effort of introducing himself to those that approached him, opting for small talk and small talk only. he then found himself mainly with those that he knew from before such as a specific stoneheart who seemed rather surprised to see ratio actually show up to the event.

as the party dragged on you began becoming rather weary yourself, it seemed the whole situation was taking much more out of you than you anticipated. but it seemed ratio was feeling the same. evident by the fact that he was lingering nearer to you than you were to him, looking ready to grab you and leave at any time now.

fortunately, it seemed the peak of the party was approaching. with only a couple minutes left till midnight and that meant that it was almost over and done with - much to ratio's delight.

but you had come up with an idea. you and ratio had slowly found yourselves moving away from the main body of the party, sticking to the outskirts, and so you didn't think he would mind in the slightest. you were sure that nobody would even notice.

and as the main countdown started you decided to put your idea into practice. vast majority of the others in the party were counting down but ratio couldn't care in the slightest and so he didn't mind obliging at all to listening to you call his name and focusing on you - not that he really found anything more important to focus on than you.

you smiled at him and as soon as you heard the countdown hit zero, you leaned in abruptly and gave ratio a kiss - whispering a quick “happy new year” against his lips.

you then pulled away as quickly as you leaned in before pretending that it never happened and that you were focused on the others. ratio stared at you almost shocked, he knew you were waiting to see his reaction.

he quickly shook off his surprise and soon a warm smile graced his features. ratio leant in and pressed another chaste kiss to your forehead, mummering a returned “happy new year”

he then mimicked your actions and turned to face the crowd who all were too focused on their own mini celebrations.

a beat of silence passed before he wrapped the arm closest to you around your waist, pulling you closer into him and giving you a reassuring squeeze before heading back into the crowd.

[supernova2205]

Duties Weight

John price x reader

Summary: After returning home from deployment, John Price unintentionally distances himself by prioritizing work over his wife, leaving her feeling neglected and lonely. Tensions rise when she confronts him about his absence, prompting John to realize the toll his behavior has taken on their relationship.

Warnings: slight angst to fluff happy ending

The house was too quiet again. It had been months now since you last heard his boots on the floor, his laughter in the kitchen, or the low murmur of his voice from the other room. You thought you’d get used to it by now—the endless cycle of deployments, followed by brief returns that always felt too short. But you never did.

The fridge calendar caught your eye as you passed by it, the bold red circle around today’s date standing out like a flare. He was finally coming home. You’d been counting down for weeks, the excitement and anticipation building like a tightly wound spring. You imagined the moment over and over in your head: the door opening, his arms around you, and the relief of knowing he was safe and with you again.

When the sound of the key turning in the lock finally came, you were already halfway to the door.

“John?” you called, your voice catching in your throat.

The door swung open, and there he was. For a moment, your breath caught. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, and he looked just as you remembered, though exhaustion etched deep lines into his face. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes you’d missed so much, softened when they landed on you.

“Hey, love,” he said quietly, setting his duffel bag down by the door.

Before you could stop yourself, you launched forward, wrapping your arms around him. His arms came around you a moment later, strong and warm, pulling you close. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him—faint cologne, a hint of sweat, and something uniquely John.

“You’re back,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I’m back,” he replied, his voice rumbling in his chest.

For a while, you stayed like that, clinging to each other as if letting go might make him disappear. But when you finally pulled back to look at him, something about his expression made your heart ache. There was a distance in his eyes, a heaviness that hadn’t been there before.

The first few days after his return passed in a blur. You’d filled your head with plans for his homecoming—movie nights, home-cooked meals, lazy mornings spent in bed together. But those plans quickly fell to the wayside. John, it seemed, had other priorities.

He spent most of his time at the kitchen table, surrounded by papers and his laptop. You’d catch glimpses of mission reports, diagrams, and pages upon pages of notes. When you tried to sit with him, he’d barely glance up, his focus unshakable.

“Can’t this wait?” you asked one evening, setting a cup of tea beside him. “You’re home now. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I can’t,” he said, not looking up. “I’ve got deadlines.”

Your chest tightened. You wanted to argue, to tell him that this wasn’t what you’d been waiting for, but you didn’t. Instead, you nodded silently and walked away, biting back the sting of disappointment.

As the days stretched into weeks, the pattern continued. John woke up early to work and stayed up late to finish whatever he was doing. Even when he was physically present, it felt like his mind was somewhere else.

One evening, you sat alone on the couch, a bowl of popcorn growing cold in your lap as a movie played on the TV. You’d asked John to join you, hoping for even a sliver of time together, but he’d waved you off, muttering something about needing to finish a report.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away angrily. You weren’t mad at him—not really. But the loneliness was suffocating. You’d waited so long for him to come home, only to feel like he wasn’t truly here.

The breaking point came on a rainy afternoon. You were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner, when John walked in, his phone pressed to his ear.

“Yeah, I’ll have the report sent over by tonight,” he said, his voice clipped.

You froze, the knife hovering mid-air. When he didn’t even look at you, something inside you snapped. You slammed the knife down on the cutting board with a sharp crack, the sound startling even you.

John glanced up, his brow furrowing. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” you echoed, your voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “You’ve been home for weeks, John, and it feels like you’re still a thousand miles away.”

His expression shifted, confusion giving way to something harder to place. “I’ve been busy, love. You know that.”

“Busy,” you said bitterly, the word tasting sour on your tongue. “You’re always busy. Do you even realize how lonely it’s been? How lonely it still is, even with you here?”

John opened his mouth as if to respond but closed it again, his jaw tightening.

You set the knife down, your hands trembling. “I just… I don’t know how much longer I can do this.”

For a moment, he looked like he’d been struck. Then, without a word, he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

That night, John sat alone in his study, staring at the papers in front of him. He didn’t read a single word. Your voice echoed in his head, each sentence hitting harder than the last.

How had it come to this? He’d always believed he was doing the right thing, that his work was for the greater good—for your future together. But now, sitting in the silence of the house, he realized how much he’d taken for granted. He’d been so focused on his duty that he’d forgotten the one person he was doing it all for.

The next evening, you came home from work to the smell of something delicious wafting through the house. Confused, you called out, “John?”

“In here!”

Following his voice, you stepped into the dining room and stopped in your tracks. The table was set with your favorite dishes, candles flickering in the center. John stood by the stove, wearing an apron and looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“What’s all this?” you asked, your heart pounding.

He wiped his hands on a towel and stepped closer, taking your hands in his. “It’s an apology,” he said simply.

“John…”

“Please, let me say this,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been a terrible husband. I thought I was doing the right thing by focusing on work, but I’ve been blind to what you really need—what we need.”

Your eyes filled with tears, and you bit your lip to keep them from spilling over.

“I’m so sorry,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t promise I’ll always get it right, but I want to try. I want to be better—for you, for us.”

The tears came then, hot and unstoppable. You threw your arms around him, holding him as tightly as you could.

That night, you shared a meal filled with laughter and conversation, the warmth between you slowly melting away the frost that had built up over the weeks. John told you stories from his deployment, and you shared what you’d been up to while he was gone. For the first time in what felt like forever, it felt like you were truly together.

Over the following weeks, John made good on his promise. He set boundaries with his work, carving out time for you no matter how busy things got. There were still moments of frustration, old habits that were hard to break, but the effort he put in made all the difference.

The house felt alive again, filled with love, laughter, and the man you’d fallen for all those years ago. As you curled up together on the couch one evening, his arm around you and your head resting on his chest, you let yourself savor the moment.

Loving John Price might never be easy, but as you listened to the steady beat of his heart, you knew one thing for certain: it was always worth it.

Authors note: sorry I’ve been inactive guys I’ve been trying to figure out how to write part 2 for unexpected company but it still feels like it’s missing something so I decided to post this in the meantime hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

[firewasabeast]

Prompt: Tommy's first birthday with Evan and he's turning 40

I'm sorry this took so long I think about things too much!

Buck had asked when Tommy's birthday was when they first started dating, kept it held tight in his memory bank until he could write it in his calendar, and began planning before they'd even gone on more than four dates. His birthday was still months away at that point, but somehow Buck knew he was in it for the long haul.

Over those few months, as their relationship turned more into a partnership, Buck learned that Tommy never really had birthday parties growing up. His mom would buy him a donut that morning and put a candle in it, sing to him quietly in the kitchen while his dad was nursing a hangover in the living room, and then he'd unwrap a comic book that his mom would save up to buy.

Every birthday after seventeen was spent alone, or at work, and he never mentioned it to anyone.

That meant that his 40th birthday had to be perfect. Absolutely perfect from start to finish.

Tommy had told him he didn't expect or even want anything, but Buck had made him promise he'd request the day off.

Tommy rarely said no to anything Buck asked.

Buck made sure Bobby scheduled everyone off for that day as well.

What he didn't expect was that Jee would get sick, and give whatever flu bug she had to Maddie and Chimney.

Or that Denny would break his leg playing soccer and Hen would be spending the night in the hospital.

Or that Christopher would call Eddie and ask him to fly to El Paso and bring him home.

Bobby had to cancel too. A pipe burst in May's apartment and they had to go move her into a new place.

A couple of Tommy's friends had last minute things come up too, leaving Buck to cancel on the remaining few that could make it. It would have been really lame to do all he had planned with only four or five people present.

On the morning of Tommy's birthday, Buck rolled over to see Tommy sleeping soundly beside him. His hair was all ruffled up, mouth hanging slightly open. His chest rose and fell peacefully.

So damn cute, Buck thought.

He'd broken the news to him yesterday afternoon. All the surprises he had planned had to be cancelled on the count of him having the worst luck in the world. Tommy had laughed, his face scrunched in that adorable smile that Buck could never resist. He brought Buck close to him, promised him, “Evan, I don't need anything or anyone but you.”

Still, Buck knew he could make the day just as special without anyone else. He started by quietly slipping out of bed, pulling on his boxers before heading to the kitchen.

When Tommy woke up twenty minutes later, it was to the smell of pancakes and bacon, his favorite breakfast.

“What's all this?” Tommy asked, a smile on his face. His hair was still a mess, he had on basketball shorts that he had tossed off the night before, and a very tight white shirt on that was most definitely Buck's. Buck loved getting to see him like this. Loved that he wasn't always so put together like everyone else thought he was.

“It's birthday breakfast,” Buck answered, bringing a plate of pancakes to the table before walking over to Tommy and wrapping him in his arms. He pressed a kiss to his lips, tasting the minty mouthwash Tommy had just used. “Happy birthday, babe,” he whispered once they parted.

Another kiss, Tommy moaning a little “Mm” into it this time, the way he always did when he felt overwhelmed by Buck's love. “Thank you.”

Reluctantly, he let Buck go so he could go get the bacon. Coffee was already on the table, steam still rising from the cup. Tommy sat down a took a sip.

Just the way he liked it.

“You didn't have to do this for me, Evan,” he said once the bacon was at the table and Buck was seated beside him.

“I wanted to. Now, eat up. Busy day ahead.”

After breakfast they both went to get dressed, but ended up a bit distracted. Usually Buck would be beside himself being thirty minutes behind schedule. Especially when he had spent the entire previous day planning every moment on a clipboard he had found mysteriously hidden behind the couch.

Turns out, Tommy was very excited about his breakfast pancakes and Buck couldn't find it in him to care that they weren't going to be on time.

Once they finally got dressed and out the door, they headed to the zoo. Tommy had mentioned before that he'd never been, and Buck had been determined since that day to make sure he got in a visit.

After the zoo was The Getty. It was a bit of a drive, but that didn't matter. Buck had learned two months into their relationship that Tommy was an incredible artist. He didn't make much time for it, but when he did, he put his all into it. Even when Buck didn't quite understand what Tommy had painted, he loved it. It was beautiful, because it meant something to Tommy, and that's all that mattered.

There was a late lunch after that, at one of their favorite cafe's. They sat outside and enjoyed the breeze while they sipped on lemonade and shared sandwiches.

Last was a hike. Nothing strenuous. It was more of an excuse to walk side by side, holding hands and chatting. Buck loved doing that. Loved that Tommy didn't shy away from affection. Loved how their hands fit together just perfectly, swinging between them with each step.

After that, they headed home for a movie night. Love, Actually was first, with whatever else Tommy wanted after that.

“Evan,” Tommy stopped him as they entered their house.

“Yeah?” Buck asked, turning to him.

Tommy lifted a hand to Buck's face, his thumb stroking his cheek gently. “Today was incredible.”

“You sure? I know it wasn't-”

“Ev. Incredible,” Tommy repeated.

Buck smiled, relief washing over his face. “It was, wasn't it?”

Tommy pulled him in for a kiss, stepping back until Buck was pressed up against the door.

Before it could get too heated, Buck patted his chest and Tommy reluctantly pulled away.

“There's something else for you,” he said, sliding away from Tommy and heading into the kitchen.

“Hun, I don't need anything else. You already did too much.”

“Just one more thing.” Buck got a rectangular, white box out of the fridge. Tommy wasn't sure how he'd hid it, but it was the first he'd seen of it. He walked closer, standing across the counter from Buck as he set the cake box down.

“You got me a cake, too?!” Tommy asked, his voice filled with something Buck could only describe as child-like glee.

“Of course I did.” He lifted the lid to show Tommy a beautifully decorated chocolate and vanilla marble cake, with 'Happy 40th Birthday, Tommy' written on it. “It was too late to cancel and order a smaller one,” he said as Tommy stared down at it in wonder, “so it feeds thirty people, but we can freeze it.”

“It's perfect,” Tommy said softly. He looked up at Buck, eyes wide and wet, “This whole day... perfect."

Evan walked around the counter and pulled Tommy close, resting his head in the crook of Tommy's neck, pressing a kiss there. “I love you, Tommy.”

Tommy ran his hands up and down Buck's back, a happy sigh escaping him. “I love you, Evan.”

*****

They were both very pleasantly surprised one week later when, thinking they were going to Bobby and Athena's for a simple dinner, they opened the door to be greeted with a beautifully decorated house. Tons of balloons and streamers all around. All their friends and family there, shouting surprise as they stood under a huge 'HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY TOMMY' sign. A cake was rolled out with forty candles, and written on it was 'Someone call a firefighter!'

Tommy had to fight back the tears in his eyes. In one week he'd gone from never having a birthday cake in his life, to having two.

[acasualcrossfade]

London Calling

Rating: M | CW: mention of sex | Words: 875

Tags: Steddie, Rockstar! Eddie, Art Dealer! Steve, Max is Steve's Daughter, Steve and Eddie

Prompt: for @steddielovemonth day 5:🎥 The Idea of You 🎥

Divider graphic by @saradika-graphics

Steve never cleared his calendar for anything other than an emergency. There was the time his daughter, Max, got sick at school, that time Max broke her leg at the park, and the one time he was sure he had food poisoning. That time he’d told his assistant, Marie, to also field any incoming calls. Yet, as Steve stared at Eddie's message on his phone, his first thought was to clear his calendar and that terrified him.

And sure enough, those words on his phone didn’t change and stared right back at him. The words were still there after he glanced up at his view of his gallery across the street from his office.

I want you in London.

Steve did his best to misinterpret the text first, thinking Eddie switched words around or meant to say something else, something other than exactly what he typed. Steve almost wanted to respond with question marks, but the words were there, clear as day. And, with the lack of follow-up messages in the last two minutes, could only mean that this was exactly the message Eddie meant to send. 

Steve wanted to say yes, but the impulse terrified him. Who was he to just get on a plane and go? He couldn’t do that. Besides, what happened that night after Coachella was a one time thing. Nothing serious. Eddie was on the road most of the time and Steve knew he couldn't just abandon the gallery to go off after some fling. He took a breath, needing clarification. He typed back.

What do you mean you want me in London?

Eddie’s instant reply came and Steve wondered if he was on the tour bus. Eddie usually had uninterrupted time as the band traveled between cities.

I want you here

Steve’s phone buzzed again.

With me

Steve blinked at the messages, his heart pounding. His office suddenly felt too warm and he leaned against his cluttered desk as the world tilted. Could he really go to London? Now?

The voice of reason nodded, reminding him it was a Friday with no meetings. And, Max had two sleepovers this weekend. She would be too tired on Sunday to do much of anything but nap. Since he kept his weekends free for Max, he didn’t have other plans, or any last minute client brunches to attend.

His impulse hummed with possibility, but still, he had one call to make. 

Another message came through from Eddie.

I’m not above begging ;)

Steve rolled his eyes as a warm shudder went through him. He remembered the sight of Eddie on his knees, begging, his eyes glassy, curls tangled. Steve's heart stuttered; there was no denying how badly he wanted it. Him. 

Again.

That part that scared him. He yearned to drop everything and go somewhere new, a luxury he’d given up when he took custody of Max. And if there was a weekend to spend with his lover, this was the best it was going to get. But there was a sinking feeling he couldn’t quite push aside. There was only one person he trusted with Max and Steve was thankful she was on speed dial. 

She picked up on the first ring.

“Dingus, hey,” Robin answered, her voice louder than the overlapping chatter in the background. “Sorry, school just got out.”

“Busy day at school?”

“Nah, this was a half day for the kids. So, what’s up?” 

Steve listened as the chatter fell away, and he imagined her moving through the school hallway to find a quieter corner.

“I need a favor,” Steve started. “Can you watch Max this weekend?”

“Yeah, where are you going?”

Steve paused. “London.”

"LONDON?!" Robin squealed. “This has to do with Lover Boy!”

Steve winced. She knew him too well. “It does not,” he denied. “There may or may not be a last minute client meeting and I’m uhm, meeting them there. In London.”

Robin mmhmm’d through the phone, a sound that carried sarcasm, skepticism, and disbelief in one breath. “Client meeting, of course,” she agreed. “You’re in luck. My weekend is completely open."

"You're a saint and I love you," Steve breathed with relief.

"Does Max need to be picked up from school?”

“Yeah, at 3. And there’s leftovers for dinner. And the menu to the good pizza place is on the fridge. And don’t forget–”

“She’s allergic to fish,” Robin finished for him. “Stevie, I know. You can check in anytime.”

“Thanks, Robbie.”

“You got it. And I expect all deets as part of my payment,” she added before hanging up.

Steve felt shaky, unsure if it was excitement or nerves or both that rattled him like this. His body zinged with apprehension and excitement at the prospect of seeing Eddie, all of Eddie, again. Finally, he typed back a message to Eddie.

Okay, I’ll come to London

Steve’s phone buzzed again and again, no doubt with Eddie’s messages of exclamation and excitement, but Steve waited to read them. There was one thing left to do.

Steve walked with purpose out of his office, passing his assistant at the front desk. She looked up in surprise, but he kept walking. 

“Marie, clear my calendar for the day and field my calls. Something just came up.”

[accirax]

DRDTtober Day...... uhhhhhh......

Given that we are (*checks calendar*) now half a year out from when DRDTtober 2024 was meant to begin, I think it's finally time to admit... yeah, I don't think I'm ever going to go back and make art for those prompts 😔✌️

I did, however, draw this back in September, in accordance with my original plans for the event! For those curious, below the cut is a (hopefully) brief explanation of what these designs were intended to be for, and why the comics ultimately never came to fruition.

As you may or may not recall, librariansrose kindly shared 2024's DRDTtober prompts to Tumblr well in advance of October's beginning, on August 22nd. Because I had so much fun making all of the comics for 2023, I definitely wanted to participate again. However, making the comics for 2023 took a lot of time, so I resolved that, if I was going to commit to these comics as a fairly big time investment, I might as well go all-in and make something nice that I could ideally use as a portfolio piece in the future. One polished, paneled page per day, in a 31-day overarching story. That idea also aligned with my personal desire to do something different than I had done last year, just for spice.

"This will be so easy!" I thought. "I have the end of August and the entirety of September to make my designs, write out my script, and get well ahead of drawing the comic itself so that I'll have plenty of buffer for the beginning of October!"

A few days after the prompts were shared, it was announced that DRDT Chapter 2 would resume on September 6th.

Suddenly, all of the time that I had mentally blocked to work on my DRDTtober comics was absorbed into watching the series itself and writing up my episode-by-episode dissections, as well as reading and responding to other various theories. It was awesome, obviously, but by the end of September I had done basically nothing other than make some very loose notes and draw up these first passes at character designs. At the beginning of October, I played with the idea of doing 7-page bursts at the end of each week, but when the first week ended, that turned into starting it mid-month and finishing in November, to starting in November, until it devolved into where we are now.

The biggest reason why I never wound up making this comic is because, to this day, I still don't have a clear idea of what its ending would be. With the comics being one connected story instead of 31 largely separate jokes, I needed to know what the ending would look like in order to properly set up the beginning. And, as I quickly found out, trying to make up a satisfying story that has to feature 30 random prompts in a specific order and feature 17 different characters when you only came in with the desire to make a comic instead of to share a story, is really, really hard 😅

What I can say about the story is that it would have had David as the protagonist, with Xander and Teruko starring as fellow main characters. They would go on a quest throughout the kingdom and into the wilderness, encountering the rest of the cast (themed to various prompts) at various points along the way. For instance, you might be able to recognize Hu, Eden, and Min as representing the "magical girls" prompt, while Whit and Charles exemplified the "coffee shop" prompt. There was also a lot of lore, the details of which were also never fully fleshed out. If people are interested in hearing more about the story, maybe I can share the beginning of the script that I wrote out, and the layout sketches I made of what the first few pages would look like.

But yeah, unless I wind up reviving this story in some other form in the future, I don't think I'll ever wind up circling back to 2024's prompts. I'd be much more likely to either just wait until 2025's prompts come out, or continue making my own events, like the Secret Santa and Valentine's Day series I've done. I guess I could maybe try to combine 2024's prompts with 2025's prompts to do two prompts per day? That sounds kinda interesting. But also really hard. No promises!

I have no idea if anyone was still anticipating these from me at all, but in my mind I did promise that I'd do the prompts eventually, and leaving that dangling thread was bothering me. Plus, I did like these designs, and hopefully you do, too! Probably so, if you're still reading this. Thank you for reading this! It's not a month's worth of comics or illustrations, but hopefully it was interesting regardless :)

[cranberrymoons]

let it snow

prompt: only one bed 😱 (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: t word count: 1,000 tags: snowed in, pining, first kiss

welcome to Day 12 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

They don’t plan to get snowed in. 

Well– no one ever really plans to get snowed in, technically, it’s sort of in the definition, but… 

Anyway. 

Point is, it’s an accident.

And because it’s an accident, and because it’s unexpected, and because they hadn’t actually planned to spend the night anywhere, they find themselves facing down the single full size bed which is all that’s available at the motel they end up at when they pull off the road after the flurries turn into gusts, which turn into a near-white out.

Steve considers suggesting he sleep on the floor or in the armchair or something? Because that feels like the sort of polite, chivalrous thing he would do if it were a girl, but it’s not a girl, it’s Eddie, and suggesting it feels a little like he’d be calling attention to something he’d really rather they didn’t look at too closely.

Namely, that Steve has a big stupid crush and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

He doesn’t even know if Eddie is an option, really, and it would be stupid to risk what feels like a very fragile friendship as it is. After everything that happened in the spring and the hospital and the months of not being sure what to say around each other and now this, them, caught in a snowstorm halfway through a trip up to Chicago to see one of the bands that Eddie’s always wearing on his shirts.

The wind batters against the window, and the snow swirls outside, and Steve gives Eddie a sideways glance where he’s already sitting on the edge of the bed and bending to untie his boots and kick them into a corner. 

He must feel Steve’s eyes on him, because he looks up and catches him staring, a little smile spreading across his face when he does.

“Are you one of those people who has really specific opinions about which side of the bed you have to sleep on?” Eddie asks. He raises his eyebrows. “Because I hate to break it to you, Harrington, but you’re going to have to pry the left side of the bed from my cold dead hands.”

And that seems to decide it; they’re sharing the bed.

Steve drops his keys on the little table that sits right inside the door and shrugs out of his coat, dropping it over the back of a chair.

“That’s saying something,” he says. “Coming from you.”

Eddie lets out a surprised laugh, bracing his hands on his knees as he gives Steve an appraising look. 

“Dead jokes,” he says, squinting up at Steve. “Nice.”

Steve’s smile spreads slow across his face. “Anyway, I like the other side of the bed,” he says. “The right side.”

“Because you’re always right.”

Steve laughs, takes a step closer then back, fiddles with the cuff of his sweater. A little awkward, a little nervous. Eddie’s watching him with that big, easy smile on his face, and Steve feels something fizzle and go quiet against his heart, warmth blooming out through his chest.

“Yeah,” he says. “Exactly.”

---

They settle down after that, stripping to their boxers and sliding between the sheets to curl toward each other on the bed, icy limbs brushing together until they start to go warm.

He saw Eddie’s scars once before over the summer when he’d taken his shirt off to jump in the pool on a particularly hot day when everyone had been desperate to cool off and had all but pushed each other out of the way to get into the water. 

This feels different, though.

It’s closer, for one, and back in the summer, Steve hadn’t quite wrapped his head around the fact that the way he feels when Eddie smiles at him is him wanting more, wanting to reach out and touch and taste and feel and–

“They got you pretty good, didn’t they?” Eddie asks, lifting his eyes from the patch of scar on Steve’s own stomach. His hand darts out toward Steve’s neck then stops, falls down to rest against the pillow near his own face. “I see this one all the time, but that one–” He takes a breath. “Damn.”

“Yours, too,” Steve says. He reaches out, and Eddie doesn’t give him any kind of a signal to back off, so he closes the distance between them to trace against the edge of one of the scars twisting over his abdomen. “I guess we match.”

His hand settles against the spot, palm covering it, and Eddie’s breath catches. Steve’s eyes lift to his face.

“Sorry,” Eddie says. He smiles, a little unsure. “Ticklish, I guess.”

And this is… ridiculous. 

It’s ridiculous. If Eddie were a girl, Steve would have kissed him weeks ago. Months. And he gets that it’s different, sort of. He at least knows why he’s more nervous than he would be otherwise, but he’s also so sick of waiting. He’s so sick of waiting for Eddie to make a move, because that’s just not what Steve does. 

It’s not who he is.

And so, heart kicking against his ribs, feeling a little shaky and a lot scared, he tilts himself closer, lifting his chin enough that their eyes line up, and–

“Steve?” 

He smiles, searching Eddie’s face. “Do you not want me to?”

Eddie lets out a sharp little breath. “I want you to.”

And that– the nerves disappear in an instant, just like that. He feels himself relax, and he lets his hand tighten on Eddie’s waist, sliding himself closer on the pillows. 

“Good,” he says, soft like a secret. “Then I will.”

Closing the distance between them is so, so easy after that– so easy that Steve can’t help wondering what the hell he’s been waiting for all this time. 

Eddie tastes like peppermint and wintertime and a little like cigarettes, and when he sighs against Steve’s mouth, lips falling open, Steve crowds closer for another taste, and another, and another.

[also on ao3]

[finniestoncrane]

Ik this is sorta late depending on time zones and this ask being cheesy as hell but what would the Riddlers do for Valentine's Day with reader? Something cheesy asf? Or not celebrating it at all? I wanna know I'm curious as hell now

Valentine's Date

Riddler Headcanons gosh i rushed so fast to get this done today!! luckily, it was a blessing as work was SLOW! so here are the boys and how they would celebrate valentine's day in my mind because i am down bad for them all and live in a fantasy world where they would all try and do something nice for you 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: suggestive stuff but it's mostly fluff!!

young justice

i can almost guarantee that if you're spending valentine's day with him, it'll be the first one he's had with a partner

so he is pushing the boat out. or... as best as he can... what with the nerves

he wouldn't do something too extravagant, not too fancy or big. that would only increase the number of people he might embarrass himself in front of

he's far more keen on taking you to a quiet, unexpected but comfortable restaurant with quiet music and only a few tables, so he can talk to you and hear you properly

he'd buy you a single rose, hire the violinist to play a song by your table, your favourite tune

no dancing, he's got two left feet, but he will reach across the table and hold your hand, stroking it with his thumb and looking into your eyes

and when he takes you home, he'll walk you to your door and offer you a shy, reserved kiss

whether or not you pull him through the door by his tie and ravage the poor beast is up to you

unburied

he wouldn't actually ask you out for valentine's day

he'd give you a rant about capitalism and how it's a made up holiday and that you should keep your calendar clear anyway just in case he decides to do an ironic date

you'd think his goal was to embarrass you, in fact, because he's showing up to your house with a little remote control and blasting your favourite song out of every speaker system you own

"hey, sh... don't ask how i know your favourite song or how i got control of your devices. just... stop thinking about it. hey. hey! you're thinking about it... don't think about it, sh you're too pretty to think about it. let me think about it, i'm smarter and prettier"

dinner isn't anything too special either. takeout pizza on a rooftop in gotham somewhere. it could be romantic though, and it would be to someone desperately in love with him like you

listening to him talk about light pollution, asking if you want to hear some riddles about constellations, pointing out the various places he's hid from his enemies

it's not traditional by any means, but it is oddly romantic. dinner, music, time alone under the dulled stars. maybe that was his plan all along

gotham

oh we are going WHOLE HOG here for valentine's day!! you know he's an old romantic, a sweet and gentle soul

so don't think for a moment that you'll be seeing any other people that day, your attention will be solely focused on each other

he's sent, uh... someone has sent in some miscellaneous threat to your workplace, so luckily for you(!) you're not required to go in! SO SURPRISE!! he's here to make you breakfast

and then a brief walk down some of the quieter streets, where he might be brave enough to ask if he can hold your hand

once you're at his apartment, you're in for some respectable but tension filled cuddles on his sofa while you watch some classic romance movies

and then he's making a beautiful three course meal for you both! pressed tablecloth on his little dining table, roses in a conical flask, candles in test tubes (is he stealing these from work?)

he'll feed you little bits of food, wiping your face with a napkin, staring into your eyes dreamily

and then the night will end with a perfect and very polite kiss that you'll wish wouldn't end

telltale

he knows how to do romance, he's been around long enough. it's more a question of whether he can be bothered to celebrate

but he'll pull himself together and act the perfect gentleman for you, regardless of how tired he is after a day of committing violent/cyber crime and being oddly agile for a man in receipt of a state pension

(a fact which will come in handy at the end of the evening...)

he'll start off the evening with the traditional gifts. a box of expensive chocolates or candy, perfectly suited to your dietary requirements of course. and a bouquet of flowers. not roses, but your favourites. he knows they'll make you happier

he's not one for being out in public, what with the whole "is he dead" thing, so you'll be dining in BUT to make it special, he has hired a discreet personal chef to provide the food for the evening

slow, quiet jazz playing in the background, just you, him, and the waiters he has hired and has threatened under extreme violence to keep their mouths shut about this particular shift

could it get any more romantic??

arkham

bless his heart but this eddie is forgetting that it's valentine's day until you're handing him a card, grasping it between his dirty fingers, smudging the soft pink colour with grimy fingerprints

then, you'll endure a fifteen minute long lecture about why you should have at least had the sense to warn him in advance, or to remind him, since you know how he can be

and when he's done, he'll be pushing you out of the room, getting rid of you so he can "finish his important work" and only then can you consider "doing something for this silly holiday"

really, he's just looking for an excuse to get you away so he can work on your very last minute present without you seeing

which of course, he'll present to you as though he had been pretending to forget all along

"i made you this, it's a symbol of our relationship"

it's the remnants of a neon question mark bent into place to resemble a heart. and there's hot glue still drying on it. and a screw stuck to it

but it's the thought that counts, and the thought is there! after all he loves you enough to have lied and put aside his important welding or whatever to haphazardly craft the lie

dano

for him, valentine's day is about showing your love for someone. because you can love them every day, but this is an excuse to make a display out of it

so expect a myriad of gifts, food, perfumes, vouchers, jewellery, stuffed animals, flowers, a handmade valentine's card

enough that it makes you guilty (and enough that you wonder if he really has just been saving all his salary instead of spending it on... furniture or therapy)

then, the personalised activities! most of which involve you doing his quiz all about you and your relationship with him, solving several riddles that lead you to a hidden compartment in the wall of his bedroom (weird.) where he's stuffed his poems to you (sweet!) which he will then recite to you, stuttering over the words and blushing the whole time

but it's not enough for him, he wants to shout it from the rooftops, show the world how much he loves you and appreciates you

he's had all this love bottled up for so long with no one deserving to give it to! let's just hope it comes out in a healthy way...

btaa

he's swooping in to your apartment very late at night

"it's only 11pm, it's still valentine's day mi amorrrrr"

look, he's very sorry that he wasn't able to spend the day with you, and that he's incredibly late to the dinner you had planned

but he's a busy little criminal, he has so many things to do AND he had to do it all by himself because he gave miss tuesday the day off so she could go on a date of her own and-

oh see! you've changed your mind now, no longer grumpy, because he was actually doing something kind for someone else

he really is a generous soul, emphasised by the fact that the reason he was late was because he was pulling off a perfect heist in a jewellery store uptown

so... did you save any leftovers for him? or is he going to have to return this beautiful ring/watch/necklace he bought you?

twojar

he's a curveball, like seriously give you whiplash kind of valentine's date

you think it's going to be a very standard evening, after all there you both are in black tie best, sipping expensive champagne, him talking about himself while you try hard not to stare at his tits

but when the meal is finished, he goes to pay in secret and then rushes you out into a car with tinted windows, and it's lucky he can get you so hot and flushed and eager that quickly, since it's not long before you arrive at the next spot

a strip club

which is? i mean not a traditional valentine's day date location, but it could be very hot

and he's booked one of the private rooms for you both, so at least you won't have to hide your blushing cheeks from the rest of the guests

but it becomes very obvious that there isn't a dancer coming to entertain you, and you worry that he expects you to get up there and put on a show, which would be a disaster because you haven't planned anything and-

"happy valentine's day"

ah. of course. why would the world's most self-absorbed man think you would want anything else for valentine's day than a private strip tease from him

and he's annoyingly very right in that assumption

btas

he absolutely does the most! and the most is often cheesy and dorky and therefor a million times more precious

the kind of guy who would buy you a rose for every day he's known you, regardless of how many days he has known you

the kind of guy who gets those little personalised lego figures made of you and him, or gets a plushie of him to give to you so he'll always be near you (and you know he's putting the personalised message in if he gets it from build a bear)

he knows your favourite starter, main and dessert are all from different restaurants, so he's made the reservations at all three with plenty of time for romantic rides in the back of cabs between each stop

it's important he has plenty of time to cover your neck with kisses, and for you to tell him how adorable he is

and then, because he is the cheesiest but in the best way, it's more than likely he'd use valentine's day as an excuse to propose to you, so he's down on one knee under the cloudy gotham night sky to ask you to marry him (and you're obviously not going to say no)

zero year

he doesn't do valentine's day, what a waste of time! he's nice enough to you the rest of the year, why should there be one day where he has to do something extra fo-

oh? oh! oh ok, if it means you have to do something for him too, then he's down for it

yes... that sounds like a wonderful excuse to get up to some mischief... (it's concerning how evil his little face looks when he's supposedly considering activities for the most romantic of holidays...)

although, why bother going out somewhere on a date, it's such a waste of time and effort

he has to keep his energy for more important things, and speaking of... he can think of very few ways to spend an evening that are better than taking you into the bedroom and sharing an exchange of giving for a few solid hours

no need to wear something nice, it's only going to get stripped off

no need to get him a gift, you'll be giving him plenty

and no need to eat something, he'll make sure you don't leave hungry, trust him

[thepromptswhisperer]

Schedule Prompts

“Am I just an appointment to you? Something you can simply tick off your list?”

Know the other’s schedule by heart (- which might lead to a few raised eyebrows and suspicious/teasing looks from other people).

“I barely see you anymore.”

“That wasn’t on my schedule.” “And you weren’t part of my life plan.”

“Could you drive [name] to school/etc. tomorrow/etc.?”

Pencil themself into the other’s schedule.

“My schedule unexpectedly freed up, so I thought… Why not visit my favorite person?”

“Don’t let me keep you. (You clearly have more important things to do than to talk to me. Your partner.)”

“I’m going to mark/put that in my calendar right now, lest I forget.”

“I know today is your free evening/etc. and I wouldn’t ask if… If I didn’t need your help.” 

Since they know their partner/etc. is/should be occupied, they use the free time slot to prepare something for them/do something (they shouldn’t)/etc.

“Wouldn’t you rather spend your time living than planning out your every move?”

“Can it wait? I don't have time right now.”

“I know, I know. I’m a little behind schedule. But…”

“This is not supposed to happen. Not now. I have things to do. Things to take care of.”

Be stressed because they have fallen behind schedule. The other offers them some stress relief.

“We agreed on this weeks ago.” “Well, now, I’m not in the mood for it anymore.”

“Could we reschedule?”

Be stressed and annoyed because something (or someone) disturbed their schedule. 

“Right on schedule. Like always.”

“I don’t want to hope for a gap in your schedule just to be able to see you.”

“We’re going to make the most of it, okay? Quality over quantity.”

Only truly realize how used they got to the other’s presence when their schedules don’t align/intertwine anymore. 

“I’m canceling my plans/appointments. You’re more important.”

The weekly scheduled meeting with the other becomes the highlight of their week.

“I hate having to schedule dates with you.” “I know. Me too. Yet it’s better than not being able to see each other at all.”

[eventinelysplayground]

It's day seven of the advent calendar event hosted by @candied-boys and @queengiuliettafirstlady and today's prompt was wrap and unwrap. This is one of the few fics were I didn't use a prompt from the other event lol. Just some spicy fluff, minor spoiler for Comtes route if you haven't read it. WC approx 830.

A Bit Naughty

You absently brushed out the last of your hair as you waited for Abel to return. You'd barely gotten back to the mansion when your two youngest children came barreling down the staircase at the two of you declaring there was an emergency of the monster type. You'd exchanged smiles and Abel kissed your cheek before going off to handle it.

You'd taken off your jewelry and let your hair down but were still in the dress he'd had to help you into earlier. At the time you weren't thinking and were just annoyed at all the laces and needing his help but when you went to remove it it very quickly dawned on you this was his plan all along and you couldn't help but shake your head. It wasn't much longer before you heard the sound of the door opening then being shut and locked.

“I'm sorry for the wait, cherie. This particular monster was quite headstrong.”

You laughed as you reached your hand up behind you and Abel caught it with his planting a kiss to the back of it.

“Probably thanks to Arthur and Dazais' very theatrical reading of a Christmas Carol.”

“Yes, that was my thought as well.”

Abel began kissing your neck and you let your eyes fall shut.

“I will be having a talk with them in the morning but for tonight I made sure that they knew they were to get one of their Uncles after this.”

“Oh, and how did you manage that?”

You felt Abel's warm breath on your ear and a shudder went through you.

“Simple, I told them that their uncles knew a special spell to deal with this particular type of monster.”

“That is very simple.”

A light kiss landed on your ear as Abel's hands ran along your exposed shoulders.

“I have to say cherie I expected to come back and find you already firmly snuggled under the covers.”

There was a hint of mischief in his voice and you smiled while pretending to look surprised.

“I had planned to do that but this dress proved as difficult to remove as it did to get on.”

“My apologies, but it does look lovely on you.”

“Thank you Abel but, do you think you could help me?”

Now it was Abel who smiled as he pretended to look surprised but you knew he knew you'd caught on to him. Not that you were complaining, it actually made things easier as getting him to undress you tonight had been part of your plan all along.

“If it would be too much trouble you could think of it as unwrapping an early Christmas present.”

You got up from your seat at the vanity holding his gaze as you did and you could see the barely contained desire in them. You then turned around slowly and lifted your hair out of the way of the laces and waited for him. You heard a soft chuckle behind you as Abel came closer and took your hair from you sweeping it over your shoulder.

“I suppose it's only fitting seeing as how I wrapped this particular present. Seems a bit greedy though, to have gotten some of the best wrapping and wrapped a present for myself in it.”

Abel's deft fingers made quick work of the laces, and his lips made even quicker work of building your desire for him as he planted sporadic kisses along your neck and shoulders. It took all the willpower you had to move away from him when he had loosened them enough that the dress was ready to fall off once you let it go. Once you'd pulled yourself away you moved to the center of the room and his eyes followed you in confusion.

“Cherie?”

“I agree it would be greedy to wrap and unwrap your own present.”

You moved your hands letting the dress fall to the floor revealing the secret you had been wearing underneath. The corset was made of red silk with white lace trim and scandalously low cut. The panties were similarly made of red silk with a white lace applique and quite high cut.

“So I suppose it's a good thing I hid my own in it.”

Abel's eyes roamed over you taking it all in. He began removing his coat and tie so quickly you barely saw it before he was wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

“Tricking me into wrapping my own present, such a naughty girl you are. Especially at this time of year.”

Abel had a devilish smile on his face and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I think Pere Noel will forgive me any naughtiness, especially with how pleased you look.”

You stood on your toes and captured his lips in a deep lustful kiss.

“Pere Noel may forgive you…”

Abel growled out the words as he lifted you in his arms and walked towards the bed.

“But I'm not as generous as he is.”

Tag list: @floydsteeth, @nani-nani-nani, @nightghoul381. Special tag @valkyyriia, come get your man.

[stxrrkissed]

── ۶ৎ MISSING ANNIVERSARY .ᐟ

꣑ꦌ jack harlow x fem!wife!reader ৴ LENGTH 809

DESCRIPTION jack misses an anniversary and you’re upset.

CONTENT angst ꣑ fluff.

THOUGHTS this is a repost from my jack harlow blog, this was my first ever fic for him.

𝒾. mlist 𝒾𝒾. previous fic 𝒾𝒾𝒾. prompts 𝒾𝓋. taglist

WHEN JACK COMES HOME, you’re sitting on the couch strolling through your Instagram not even throwing a glance his way. He walks in and smiles when he sees you. “Hey babe, it was a good day at the studio, got a lot done but I missed you though.” He says with a huge smile on his face as he walks up to you, leaning in to kiss your lips but you move your head slightly so that his lips meets your cheek. 

“What was that?” He questions but you just ignore him and keep scrolling through your phone. You are pissed and you have every right to be, today is your wedding anniversary and you thought to make it special by cooking his favorite food and setting up his favorite lingerie that he could take off of you later but he forgot.

You try giving him the benefit of the doubt like maybe his phone stopped working but he texted you earlier asking you to send a picture of the cologne he regularly uses.

You know he would be busy with his album, and you’re fine with that, you support him every step of the way but you never expected him to forget an important day like this, you treasure this day so much, the day you married your high school sweetheart so him forgetting makes you feel hurt, you’d have been happy if he just sent a text, it’s the thought that count.

“So you not going to tell me why you’re acting weird?” Jack queries, getting quite annoyed at being ignored especially when he came home early to be with you since he missed you throughout the day, you’re the only thing on his mind when he is at the studio so for you to be acting this way towards him is crazy.

You simply roll your eyes, getting up from your spot and walk right past him, bumping his shoulder as you made your way to the dining table and pick up the plates of food that were now cold, and made your way to the kitchen to wrap them with saran wrap. 

Jack wonders what he could’ve done to make you this mad at him but he comes up empty. What he did know is he wasn’t going to let you go to bed angry. “Babe, please tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it,” he spoke softly as he walks into the kitchen, watching you put the food in the fridge.

You ignore him again and were about to make your way to the bedroom but Jack immediately got in front of you, stopping you from taking another step. “Nuh-uh, you know we don’t do silent treatment and going to sleep angry at each other,” he says as he looks down at you. 

“Jackman move out of my way,” you spit out as you starting to get annoyed with him being in your presence, not wanting to look into his eyes knowing if you do, you would give in like you always did. Jack is surprised by the use of his first name since you always called him ‘babe’ or ‘baby’. “Not until you tell me what's going on.” 

“Do you know what today is? Why don’t you check the date!” You yell as you step back, putting some distance between you and him. You watch him pull out his phone with a quizzical look on his face and when he sees the date, you turn your back towards him not wanting to make eye contact since you might start crying at any moment.

“Baby… I’m so sorry, I thought it was tomorrow, I swear I have everything planned,” you stay silent and he comes closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him and that’s all it took for the tears to roll down your cheeks and he starts rocking you back and forth.

“You know I love you right?” He says soothingly as he starts tracing shapes on your stomach, you nod your head silently and lean more into his touch. “I promise you, I thought the 25th was tomorrow and had everything ready for us to celebrate,” 

“It wouldn’t hurt you to start checking your calendar on your phone,” your response makes him chuckle. “Yes, I’ll be more up to date from now on, can we start over our anniversary for tomorrow, trust me you going to love what I have planned.” 

You turn around in his arms and look into his blue eyes. “Yes we can, I’m sorry I was mean to you,” he shakes his head. “Don’t apologize, I deserved it, I love you,” he rubs your arm a bit. “I love you too, babe,” he connects his lips with yours, holding you close to him not letting you go, come tomorrow he will make it all up to you.

thank you for reading! © stxrrkissed 2025. all rights reserved — do not claim, copy, re-post or translate.