#this is oddly wholesome and sweet

[mad-hunts]

@divingdownthehole

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as barton was left to his own devices in the kitchen, it only then just occurred to him how the seven-fold bistro had a tv in the side of their lobby. and that could potentially be very bad if they weren't talking about the latest humdrum gossip in relation to bruce wayne or something — so, he would have to find a way to not appear suspicious and also, turn it off if they were talking about the death of the two guards already. barton sighed to himself as he pushed a chunk of the chicken on his plate to the side. he really had his work cut out for him here, didn't he?

of course, there might be a chance that jervis could handle it, he thought. but the last time he had handled something, he'd done it by sticking pins into someone. barton suddenly found himself standing up as if he was startled by the very thought of something like that happening to ravi. he had to create some sort of plan, for he couldn't just bust out of those doors, even if nothing was going on on that television. he tapped on the cold steel of the table below him with his sharpened nails as he contemplated what to do. maybe he could just stick by the almost saloon style doors of them for a bit and listen in on what exactly was going on out there.

just as ravi and jervis had made it to the front of the restaurant, his feet were carrying him to push his entire body flush against the doors, but with not enough pressure to actually open them. he thought he could hear jervis's voice now, but it was very distorted by the wall between him and the rest of the bistro. so he would have to get closer to the outside if he actually wanted to hear anything. while barton was now stressing, ravi honestly couldn't have looked more relaxed, as any friend of barton's was a friend of his. ( except they weren't really friends at all... but i digress. ) he smiled slightly whenever he heard him mention the soup out of approval, ❝ ooh... good choice. i love our mulligatawny soup, but it usually has rice in it, rather than on the side. but i could always request that our chefs put it there instead if you want. ❞

he shrugged nonchalantly and nodded, knowing that the kitchen would be more than willing to do something like that for jervis. ravi could feel his ears perk up and barton's ears did the same exact thing as a breaking news alert popped up on the tv. alright, well, he was not going to be waiting inside the kitchen any longer for something to happen — that was for sure — and so he opened up one of the doors in such a way that it wouldn't attract much attention. barton seemed to materialize out of quite literally nowhere, at least from ravi's point of view, before he was grabbing him by the opposite shoulder a little aggressively but not too much.

barton had played this off as him trying to playfully scare the other but what he was really aiming to do was turn the tv off. and that's exactly what he managed to do with the remote below the counter while ravi was too busy with being shocked, but then laughing in response to barton's 'cheeky' behavior as he spoke to him in between laughs and pushed him away from him, before punching his arm. ❝ oh, my god. you scared me! you jerk, why did you do that? don't tell me that this is you still being bitter that i beat you last time we sparred or something. ❞ ravi was still laughing, so he obviously didn't mean anything that he said in a malicious way as barton himself tried to catch onto the other's wrist before he punched him, but failed.

barton chuckled a few times before nursing the spot where ravi punched him with his arm. he made himself look guilty, only after winking at jervis whenever the other party wasn't looking, as if to say ' you're welcome ' and said, ❝ ahh, you caught me. but scaring you totally satisfied my need for revenge after you beat me. so, at least there's kind of a positive side to all of this. and just to keep you in the loop, jervis, me and ravi sometimes spar together because we're both boxers, ❞ barton gestured to the other man with one hand while ravi came down from his laughter. he made a playful ' shoo ' gesture towards barton, then. ❝ hey. me and your friend, who is also my friend now, by the way, were having a rather rousing conversation about his interest in the mulligatawny soup before you came along. so if you wouldn't mind... ❞

ravi left barton to fill in the lines of what else he was going to say before the blonde raised his hands in feigned surrender and sat down across a few seats away from them behind the counter. ravi laughed, making a ' come hither ' gesture towards himself, ❝ i was just joking, barton. you don't have to sit so far away. but anyway, i'll put in your order for the soup, if there are no objections? ❞ barton moved silently closer to ravi in particular, setting down his curry in front of him. he seemed oddly a bit protective of ravi based on the look he gave jervis.

it was one that said ' you better continue being nice to him or i'll kill you. ' and trust me, barton would do it, too.

[navree]

How was Aegon's relationship with his sister-wife and the rest of his brothers in the book?

We don't know a whole lot about his relationships in the book, because as always, it's meant to be a historical record, and those will rarely record feelings and emotions unless they're relevant to the historical events being described. But with what we can tell, and what I remember from Fire&Blood (it's actually been a while since I honest to goodness read it, though I do know how to look stuff up in it to get quotes I need to prove points), they actually all seem to have a pretty good relationship.

Aegon and Helaena's relationship actually seems to be pretty stable up until Blood and Cheese. We don't know a whole lot about it, just because it's not something that's remarked on and because Aegon only becomes a character the book focuses on once the Dance starts, and Blood and Cheese happens early on. We know that Aegon was unfaithful, since when Alicent sends people to find him in Helaena's rooms she quite bluntly says “He is not in my bed, you may be sure. Feel free to search beneath the blankets.” But at the same time, there is an expectation that if someone were looking for Aegon, they'd find him with Helaena and with the kids, which speaks to enough a routine that they're together on a regular basis. Additionally, it seems that, rather than the typical way royal couples sleep apart (like we saw with Alicent and Viserys, for example), Helaena and Aegon did share a bedroom. It's specifically noted that Aegon and Helaena started sleeping separately in separate rooms after Jaehaerys was killed, apparently in defiance of their regular custom of not doing that, now that Helaena was having a breakdown and they were both heavily grieving.

Aegon's relationship with Daeron is incredibly hard to parse out due to how vague it is and just how little we know about Daeron. Their relationship seems to have been fine, if a bit distant, due to Daeron's time at Oldtown and also the fact that he's the youngest and apparently wasn't really considered much of a force by either of his brothers. But Daeron is described as "the gentlest" of Alicent's sons, which might have lended to him and Aegon getting along, and notably, Daeron's participation in the sack of Bitterbridge is explicitly said to have been brutal and unmerciful on purpose as revenge for how Maelor, Aegon's youngest son, died. That does speak to enough of a closeness to Aegon, and likely Helaena as well, that he's willing to take what happened to Maelor so personally and decide to burn an entire town for it.

Aegon's relationship with Aemond also seems like it's pretty stable and probably better off than in the show. There's nothing to suggest that Aemond was bullied in the book, or that Aegon was any sort of ringleader in any behavior, and that the two seemed to have a pretty normal brotherly relationship. And again, in the book, Aegon's the only one who isn't upset with Aemond for killing Lucerys, and literally throws him a party in his honor once he comes home. He also trusts Aemond not just as a fellow dragonrider and battlefield soldier, given that they both participate in Rook's Rest, but also as a leader and as an ally, in spite of Aemond's ambition. Aegon does explicitly name Aemond as his regent, so clearly he thinks that's the best option (you don't need to be related to the king to be a regent, he could have picked Criston or Otto if he really wanted). And Aemond, for all of his "the crown looks better on me" ambition, is very careful to never try and overstep on Aegon's turf, never calls himself king but only Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm while Aegon recovers, and he does fight incredibly hard to continue securing Aegon's claim even when he goes MIA, ultimately dying specifically in a battle he sought out in order to eliminate what he perceived as the biggest threat to Aegon's rule (Daemon). That does speak to the idea that Aemond did value his brother, and did want to do right by him, and did respect him as king and leader of their faction in the war.

All in all, it's hard to figure out where a lot of these relationships are emotionally, because that's just not information we're given in the book, but the hints we have about the kind of people they all were, and the way they interacted, seems to speak to the fact that they've all had pretty good and stable relationships with each other, and were certainly able to coalesce around each other as a unit and fight for each other in times of crisis.

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/718372361167110144/theheadlessgroom-beatingheart-bride

@beatingheart-bride

“Oh, no, not at all,” he smiled, as he forked himself another bite of rice and onion, saying, “It’s actually a pretty easy recipe, my ma taught it to me when I was younger, I thought you might enjoy it!” He hoped she did; he wasn’t sure if she’d like cooked fish versus raw (especially with all the seasonings and spices), but he thought he’d try anyways.

Of course, he could see that the rice and onions and peppers weren’t exactly to her taste, given the way she ate around them, but he wasn’t too hurt over that-he took a gamble, and it didn’t pay off. If nothing else, he figured, the next time he fixed her dinner, he’d perhaps try something different as a side, something more to her taste.

Still, it was proving to be a lovely date: The fish came out nicely, the candles gave the room more of a romantic touch, and it felt as if the band playing down the street was playing just for them...he could hardly think of anything that could make it even better, but he did have something of an idea.

“Do sirens ever drink anything?” he asked curiously, as he set his fork down on his empty plate-perhaps they didn’t need to drink, given their aquatic home, but he felt curious to enough to ask-he had some non-alcoholic sparkling apple cider downstairs that he had a bit of a hankering for, and thought he would see if she’d like to try it.

[pinkmarbella2050]

No murder couple has the right to be this damn adorable. Y'all are gonna make the neighbours jealous! Calm down! /lh

Mr. and Mrs. Kuzuryuu seem pretty normal to me

[chaedomi]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 ✦ twtptflob

fem!child!reader x the black agriche; minus fontaine (platonic!yan), violence, death, unhealthy relationships, everyone somehow finding a way to terrorize reader, the agriche family as a whole; flowers come in assorted colors and produce sweet nectar. as a result, flowers attract various kinds of butterflies, even the so-called deadly ones. pt. 2 ꨄ — masterlist

YOUR MOTHER was already a laughing stock and a huge disgrace to The Black Agriche. Due to this, she was confined to her room, away from the disgusted eyes that followed her form with every step she took. Her reputation further decreased when word spread in the household that she gave birth to a baby girl… a sickly one at that. Was she trying to ruin the image The Black Agriche carefully built for years!?

When LANTE found out, he was beyond livid. The disdain he held for your mother was very evident as the slightest hint of her has him in a sour mood and heads rolling. Still, he gave her a chance to redeem herself; birth a worthy child was all he commanded. However, the ending result only proved that she was indeed a useless woman.

Nobody could have stopped him from what he did next, not even the wails and desperate pleas of his other wife that knelt helplessly on the ground. Unleashing his bloodlust, your mother was brutally killed. The only ones spared were his other wife and you, as he deemed it foolish to judge you as a newborn. Perhaps your state was only temporary and as you grew older, you would impress him.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Although you weren’t sick, you grew to be a rather fragile individual. The littlest pressure has you crumpling in pain, wheezing breathlessly. A disappointment, really. Nevertheless, he kept giving you another chance to prove yourself. When you fail, he gives another and another, and another, and another-

It was then he realized how lenient he has been with you out of all people. Why he hasn’t diced you into a pile of meat as he claimed each time was beyond him. Every time you made a fault, he found himself scrambling for a reason to excuse your deplorable actions. It was unlikely of him and bothered him to a large extent.

Having enough of the confusing emotions you struck within him, an order was sent out, requesting your presence. Understandably, you were petrified as it was not common for the Head of The Agriche Family to express interest in seeing anyone out of the blue. And with an amused smirk, he watched as you nervously eat the desserts brought by the servants before dismissing you from his private room.

He continued doing this, either inviting you to the room or seeking you outside, the extreme feelings he experienced deepening with every interaction he held with you. Eventually, it escalated to a point where he didn’t want you to leave his side. He soon concluded that he will never understand what aspect of yours drew this uncharacteristic side out of him. And oddly enough… he was at peace with it. Maybe your mother was capable of doing good. Hmm…

Effortlessly, the killer of your mother lifted you from your seat. A touch meant to be comforting caused shockwaves of discomfort and fear to travel up your spine. His expression was unreadable, scrutinizing gaze never leaving your form. Eyes resembling the crimson red of blood, the picture was forever burned into your memory.

“...How strange.”

Unsurprisingly to most, SIERRA was the best friend of your mother. Looking past the horrible rumors that lingered inside the household about your mother, she decided to befriend her. And boy, was she relieved, discovering that your mother was nothing like the rumors had stated, no, your mother was just a sweet, harmless woman. The moments spent were very wholesome and a change of pace from the insanity that lingered in the household.

Though… everything went crashing down when your mother became pregnant with you. Don’t misunderstand Sierra… she was overjoyed over the announcement of you. What frightened her so much was that your mother fell terribly ill and without much reason. When your mother expressed her concerns about your health, Sierra also felt dread, wanting nothing horrible to happen to you. While it’s not related to health, Sierra knew what it’s like to be worried about your child’s well-being; she knew it all too well. Bless her kind-hearted soul, she hoped your mother would never experience the pain she was put through.

But, it appeared as though her prayers and hopes were all for naught as you were born sickly and frail. And aware of the monstrosity that will arise afterward, her heart shattered into a million pieces. Still, her knowledge of this evil pattern will never emotionally nor mentally prepare her for the disastrous event. Oh, she hated how powerless she was. Her screams, wails, and pleas were futile, having to witness the execution of her beloved friend at the hands of her husband. Why must the people she loves suffer so much?

She was left alone in the room, sobbing into her palm. Had it not been for the soft wails of your newborn self, she would have remained there on the ground, allowing the coolness of the tiles to seep onto her skin as she wept to her heart’s content. Frantically leaping to her feet and momentarily pushing her grief aside, she scooped your bundled self in her arms, listening to you calm down as a woeful frown etched itself onto her lips. Blinking away the stray tears in the corner of her eyes, she hugged you closer to her chest, rocking you slowly. She might as well enjoy what was left of her beloved friend.

History surely had its cruel way of repeating itself. As you aged, you developed a lovely personality; innocent and pure, contrasting the sadistic and aggressive personas the rest of your family members owned. Why it destroyed her the way it did was because your traits were on par with her deceased son, Ashil. Just what did she do to relive such a nightmare?

By some miracle, Lante seemed to favor you tremendously. The stress that was lifted from her shoulders was refreshing. …It was especially difficult to ignore how extremely clingy Sierra was toward you. Every hour of the day, every second, Sierra insisted to be by your side, never allowing you a moment of isolation. Even so, her clinginess will never compare to how overprotective she was. God forbid if you got injured in her sight, or somehow managed to sneak away from her watchful eyes for too long. She will fall into hysterics, holding onto the little thread of sanity she possessed as she smothers you with overbearing attention.

You almost screamed in terror at the figure looming above you. Thankfully, your brain reacted quicker as you identified the figure as your stepmother. What mostly unnerved you was not the fact that she most likely might have been watching you sleep, but how… lifeless she looked. You didn’t know she was able to make such a face. Quietly, you called out to her which successfully snapped her out of her trance. Wordlessly, the woman sunk to her knees and wrapped her arms around your small body, stuffing her face in your torso. Regardless of your utter confusion as to why she visited you in the dead of night, you returned the gesture, spurring her to tears. Doesn’t look like she’ll be leaving anytime soon…

“...It could have been you as well…”

When Sierra says she’s going to stay with you, she means that she is staying with you. She does a good job of it as well, much to your dismay. But her whimpers every time you tried to run away always filled you with guilt, grounding you next to her. And thus, due to Sierra’s stubbornness to leave you alone, this is how MARIA met you.

It was a bright and sunny day, the flowers were in season, and birds were chirping merrily… it was the perfect condition to host a tea party! What better way to relax under this glorious weather than to enjoy tea and desserts with her favorite guests? So excitedly, Maria sent invitations.

Sierra was one of the last few to arrive. When Maria went to greet her, what she wasn’t expecting was two instead of one. Honestly speaking… Maria did not care for both you and your mother. Yes, she has heard of the gossip of your mother circulating among the Agriche Wives, and yes, she has heard the talk of your birth. But for someone who has never seen you or your mother before, there was only so much fuel she could add to the fire.

Her eyebrows were raised as Sierra timidly states that she brought someone along. Since Sierra was mostly alone, it was a surprise to her. Though all questions died down in her throat when she caught a glimpse of you.

The umbrella that was tightly grasped in her hand fell to the ground, her jaw slackening as she stared at you with blown eyes. …Was it even possible to be more beautiful than Sierra and her daughter combined!? You were just as pretty as a flower!

Not much explanation was needed, she immediately fell head over heels for you. Forget the fact you came uninvited, come relax and have some tea! Squealing with a skip in her step, she snatched you from Sierra's side, ushering you to a comfortable seat where she and all the ladies present fussed over you. …You left with a stomach bursting from sweets that day…

Unfortunately, gaining Maria's affection means you're subjected to her bizarre actions. If you had Sierra visiting your room in the dead of night, you had Maria visiting your room at the crack of dawn. You've woken up to her beaming face far too many times to count…

Braiding your hair, dressing up, and playing pretend are Maria's favorite activities with you and they always end with her pinching your cheeks and kissing them before she leaves. She really wanted to lock you up for herself, a cute little doll all for her to admire, pamper and cherish.

Maria was very cheerful and a bit eccentric, so you mostly felt at peace in her presence. …But that all changed when you stayed at a party longer than you should have. What you saw was like a wake-up call for you, unless they were Sierra, no matter how sweet they make themselves appear, they were still an Agriche, dehumanized, and evil.

You suddenly felt the dessert you ate creep up your throat as you stared at the servant's corpse... what was left of it, at least. The spoon you used to eat the treat slipped from your fingers, falling onto the table with a loud rattle. Your second stepmother, the murderer, was unbothered by it all, a devilish smile occupying her doll-like features, calming dishing out orders for the servant’s body to be fed to the beastly creatures that resided inside the mansion. At the sight of you, her sadistic smile morphed into one filled with pure adoration. She made her way to you giddily and squeezed you into a hug, uncaring of the evidence of her killing smearing all over your body. Frozen, you just stood there as she lovingly pressed a sweet kiss on your cheek.

"My! Aren't you such a Cutie Pie!"

The first time she saw you, she only gave you a glance… before she almost stumbled over as she did a double take. Once she regained her composure, in quick, long strides, ROXANA closed the distance between you both, firmly placing a gloved hand on your shoulder. You flinched, nearly shooting off the ground. The hallways were pretty much empty, so where the hell did she randomly emerge from?

Her stare intimidated you as her eyes were practically glaring holes into your body. It remained that way for a while, her hand on your shoulder as she stared, you, too scared out of your mind to even breathe properly. Soon, her hard stare turned soft, her reddened lips curling into her iconic smile.

Do you know how long she has waited to see you? The answer, she’s been waiting for years. The Abysmal Flower is a book that was offered to her by a school friend in her previous life… to which she initially detested reading because of the triggering contents the novel entailed… but she got past that. Because of all the dark themes, your character was an abnormality in the novel so to speak, especially when you were a member of The Black Agriche. The Black Agriche was known for its criminal activities… Fraud, Theft, Drugs & Poison, and most importantly murder, taking away lives without batting an eyelid.

You didn't belong with that, choosing peace as a method rather than violence. You were just a poor unfortunate soul inside a den filled with savages. It was a custom tradition in the household to eliminate those who stood outside their reputation as it displayed signs of weakness. But you remained unharmed by their gruesome acts. You see, the book portrayed you as possessing this indescribable charm where people feel more inclined to protect you than to harm you. Clearly, The Black Agriche was under this so-called charm of yours. It also extended to the novel’s heroine, Sylvia, who despite hating The Black Agriche, fell in love with you because of your angelic nature, viewing you as a younger sibling. Sadly, blinded by her rage and sorrow over the news of her brother’s killing, she wiped you out with the rest… falling into deeper despair after realizing she destroyed you as well.

Admittingly, Roxana held a grudge over Sylvia and the authors for that stunt. You were her favorite character by far and had so much potential. So even though the alarms blared loudly as her mind registered that she reincarnated as an Agriche and the trials that come along with the name, she was buzzing from glee now that she had a chance to see you… years after.

But after that ‘incident’ and the daily nuisances, she ought to handle for survival, the thought of you slowly slipped from her mind… until now. While no one will stupidly lay a finger on you inside the household, the same cannot be said for some outside the household. The Black Agriche has made quite the amount of enemies, after all. You being the favored one, including your predicament will make you a big target of these enemies. Thus, Roxana does her best to add extra security to your life.

Whenever she gets the chance, she will constantly check on you. If not, she will simply send one of her butterflies to always be updated about your whereabouts. Don’t you see? Whatever she does, it’s done in your favor… So, please enlighten her as to why you appear to be so antsy around her. She hasn’t done anything wrong, has she? She didn’t know you had a dramatic side… but, oh well, that’s endearing too.

She was nice to you, very very nice. For some reason though, it scared you more than it flattered you. You were unsure of why, but your instincts always screamed at you to avoid the blonde. She hasn’t done anything for you to fear her, only spoiling you with exquisite gifts and jewelry. But after what happened with your second stepmother… you didn’t want to take chances. A gloved thumb distracted you from your thoughts, gently caressing your cheek. Lifting your gaze, you peered into reddened hues, an emotion you were unable to decipher swirling in them. She smiled at you fondly, cooing even. Placing your hands on your lap, you smiled back, ignoring the nauseating churn in your stomach.

“Did I perhaps do something wrong? No? Then you don’t mind staying longer with your Big Sister, right~?”

Roxana’s extreme adoration for you had JEREMY torn between anxiety and anger. It’s already bad enough that he had to share his sister’s attention with the god-forsaken Blue Pedelian but now a whiny baby has come to steal the remainder of his spotlight!? He’s NOT happy. I mean, he was there longer than both you AND him. Though, it seems that his sister favors you more than the horny dog… Not that it makes it any better. It’s still annoying.

Jeremy has mentioned this several times to his sister, mostly about you. It was obvious he was jealous, but his complaints stemmed deeper than jealousy, it was fear that his sister will leave him if she attaches herself to others. Growing up in a loveless household was beyond excruciating and his sister, being the first one to treat him like a human and not a weapon, he continuously yearned for her affection. He didn’t want to return to what it was before, and if denying his sister interactions with others stopped that, he’s all in for it. Reassuring words from his sister, however, washed away the little panic inside him.

Still, it lingered on his mind, you. His sister doesn’t mention anyone just like that; if she does, it certainly isn’t to that extent. She’s always smiling, her eyes glitter in excitement, and she rambles on and on, very unusual for her. At least you make her happy… Nevermind. He’s still bitter about the whole thing.

In time, he finally asks his sister if he can meet the person that caught her eye. It could be anyone, considering the ungodly amount of siblings he had and since she was heading to where you were located, he might as well tag along too. His sister’s hesitation didn’t escape his eye, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Looks like you held more value to her than he first presumed…

After contemplating her answer for a while, she gave in, beckoning him closer with a finger. As they walked together, she told him you were the shy type, and it's highly advised that he doesn't do something to overwhelm you. He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not… but he felt as though there was a subtle threat underlying her words… Soon enough, they arrived at your bedroom doors.

What did you look like? What kind of person truly are you? His sister paints you a good light, going so far saying you were an angel descended from the heavens. But what if there was a dark side you skillfully concealed? That you were just another savage under the disguise of an innocent? It’s not like he doubted his sister’s judgment… just simply concerned for her well-being.

Well, he'll be damned. And slightly ashamed too. Look at you… you were so frail… and gentle too. The way you touched Roxana and spoke with her, (god, your VOICE!) was so soft, musical, and pleasing to the ears. He kind of flinched when the conversation held between you and his sister switched to him, his sister gesturing to him with a hand. His heart warmed, seeing how your big-doe eyes looked at him, the beautiful hue of them twinkling with curiosity.

Most recoil from his touch but, you reached out to him, interlacing your tiny fingers with his. He noticed how your hand trembled, looks like Roxana was correct, you were the shy type. Even so, you overcame your anxiety to greet him! Him! The final blow was the sweet giggle that escaped your lips, swinging your hand in his. Forget Angel, you were Heaven Sent.

It was very silly how easily he fell under your control, but can you blame him? When was the last time someone treated him with genuine kindness and affection other than his sister? He visited you a lot after that, to your surprise. You thought it was a one-time thing, but here he is, bringing spoils and stuffed animals every day. At that point, you had to ask for another room to store your gifts from him… Jokes and banter are common between you two, him doing most of the interaction, pinching your cheeks, and tickling your sides. Jeremy… turns out to be more childish than you, who is a child, and that said something. It amazed you when he’s on the verge of falling onto the ground and crying out whenever you declined his time with you.

Then there were instances that he was similar to a cat, cute and loving to the people he cherishes, pissy and hostile to others when they come near his cherished. What you hated about him was his ugly jealousy streak and the damage he brings with it. It can annoying when someone you like doesn’t spend much time with you as you’d like, but was it really worth bashing their head into the floor?

You walked hand-in-hand with your brother who hummed merrily. As for you, you were in a state of shock, silent as your mind tried to process what had happened prior earlier. Why did he… kill the servant? They were being nice to you were they not? It was just a lovely fresh-picked flower they wanted to gift out of the goodness of their heart. To you, you thought it was the prettiest one you’ve ever seen so far, the vibrant color palette reminding you of yourself. Mesmerized you were very close to taking the pretty thing, your chubby hands reaching to clasp at the plant. In the BLINK of an eye, the servant was no longer in their spot, the flower soaking in a puddle of blood on the ground, and your hands outstretched. The liquid was also splattered on your face, little droplets spluttered on your dress. In front of you was your brother, an enraged face overtaking his features. And underneath his boot was… the servant that offered the flower to you. What just happened…? Shrugging off how your irises dilated as he came closer, he knelt to the ground, scooping the flower from its puddle. And with a beaming smile, he patted your head, giving the bloodied flower to you instead.

“They’re out of their fuckin’ minds if they think I’d allow them to taint you.”

After your encounter with Roxana, she basically took over the role of bodyguard away from Sierra. Then you appreciated Sierra more, for mingling in Roxana’s presence had you stiffer than a board. The evening was a stormy one, the raindrops harshly beating against the roof, the low rumbles of thunder, and the faint flashes of lightning. For some odd reason, Roxana wanted to take a walk with you in this weather. You didn’t want to, but one word of hers led to another, and now you’re here. Too bad you were too scared to speak up.

Suddenly, she told you she had to run a small errand. It won’t take long, she insisted, and just like that, you were left “unsupervised” in the middle of the hallway. When you wanted to be left alone, you didn’t mean it like this. The hallways were eerily vacant and your room was nowhere nearby. The setting didn’t ease your growing anxiety; it was straight out of a horror novel where anything was capable of jumping you at any given moment. So… imagine how your soul left your body when you glanced over your shoulder, only to make eye contact with a face.

Gasping loudly, you spun around and stumbled backward, your small hands clutching at your clothes. Hair dark as the night sky, eyes red as blood… How did your father manage to silence his footsteps…? And most importantly, what could he possibly want from you…?  The deep frown he wore is a bad sign… Did you finally manage to push your father over the edge!?

The distant sound of heels hastily clacking against the floor trickled into your ears. Shortly after Roxana came into view, panting heavily as she shot a firey glare at the figure in front of you followed by a trail of threats. How did she have the courage to do that!? Did she not fear your father’s wrath? More so, why was he not responding? And who is this DION!? Too confused to study your fear of your sister when she lifted you into her arms, you wrapped your arms around her neck staring at a smirk creeping on who you assumed to be your father’s face.

The days continued smoothly (as the routine with Lante, Sierra, Maria, Roxana, and Jeremy occurred too often to be considered strange) and you lived your life as best as possible. But that was just the calm before the storm… 

Jumping from your seat, the porcelain cup slipped from your hands, shattering on the ground and spilling the milk. Your heart was hammering in your chest and your skin grew ice cold. Maria, Sierra, and the women present at the tea party also freaked out, the former rushing to both of your sides as they attempted to soothe your panicking self.

But that was a mistake for as soon as Maria touched you, you broke down into a fit of tears. They were confused, you were fine seconds ago! Was it perhaps the milk you drank with your biscuits that caused this!? Well, that certainly wouldn't slip by!

However, was that the answer to your panic? No. Someone was… watching you. It wasn't a normal glance… but rather one that instilled apprehensiveness in the hearts of numerous, and unfortunately, it was geared toward you. Left, right, and back, you frantically looked around, trying to identify who it was the person that had you so distraught. But, you couldn't, which made you cry harder and flail your arms about.

You knew the situation was very bad that the noise caught the attention of Lante, summoning him inside the greenhouse where the tea party was hosted. He was disgruntled, unsure of what to do. He didn't train himself to be a proper parent, so how should he know how to tame a crying child no less?

The best option he thought of was to carry you to your bed quarters and your stepmothers quickly complied, Maria whispering sweet nothings into your ears as she carried you, and Sierra lurking not too far behind.

There was some fun in isolation, you thought, as you found solace in the confinement of your room. Whenever you tried to stay outside in the company of others, so did the feeling of being watched return, the dread worsening the smaller the crowd gets. The feeling always disappeared when you were alone in your room, or by yourself… hold on, did you just hear your bedroom door lock?

This man was not your father. It made sense now why your sister treated him with disrespect. If he was not your father, could he possibly be one of your siblings? Though he looks like him, a carbon copy you think, he was sure far worse than your father in personality. Dull, apathetic, and very sadistic. He had no regard for life either as he shamelessly killed the maid assigned to you in front of your eyes. Even when the blood splattered on his face, he showed no emotion, maintaining eye contact with you. Could he be the one that was watching you all this time? Why did he wait to approach you when you were alone? Have you upset him in some way? Was he going to slaughter you next? All these questions ran through your head, unknowingly letting the tears gathered in your eyes run down your cheeks. This caught his attention, the smirk you remembered him having on your first encounter spreading on his lips. Kneeling in front of your bed, uncaring of how you trembled in his company, he reached out a hand, rubbing his finger tenderly against your cheek. It was sick how he found satisfaction that he evoked such a reaction from you. A teardrop fell onto his finger and he brought it to his lips, tasting it. What was meant to be salty, the flavor burst with sweetness in his mouth.

“I wonder what other reactions I can get from you.”

Weak… Fragile… Gentle… Pure… Innocent… How are you surviving in this god-forsaken household? It’s even more amusing to witness the same man, her father, protect what he firmly strived to kill. And that’s how GRISELDA formed a great interest in you, the youngest of The Black Agriche. She remembers clearly, a conversation she held with one of her younger half-sisters years ago, the person responsible for knocking her out of her top three rankings. Smiling happily with her fingers interlaced underneath her chin, she promised to show her something that will greatly humor her.

You may not have been the ���thing’ her sister was referring to, nevertheless, it was not an unwelcomed one. Ah, she wonders, how long has it been since she has had that spark of interest? The day her sibling died in front of her eyes, feelings such as love became foreign to her. But, you? You restored these lost feelings of hers from first sight. She was stupefied when it happened, her body overflowing with spontaneous bursts of energy.

Truth be told, she had an eye on you for the longest while now, aching to meet you in person at least once. But, curse her hectic schedule to hell, leaving her no choice but to satisfy her curiosity about you from the little stories told by her other half-siblings. For the first time, she had felt a sense of ugly envy… Will they know of it though? No.

Fate was cruel to her, she thinks. First, to take away her sibling she loved, and second, to present, oh, such an ethereal gift, just to keep it away from her arm's length having to watch down on you from the villa’s balcony, scurrying about with her other siblings. For now, she’ll keep it that way, looking at you with a sober expression from afar, but still offering you exquisite gifts to make you aware of her existence.

It was another gift that seemed to spawn alive onto your dressing table, probably from your anonymous gift-giver. You had asked your siblings, including your stepmother who would occasionally step inside if they were the ones responsible, to which they all responded with a ‘no.’ You wondered if it were a servant that did it, but after what transpired with the previous one, you doubted anyone outside your family will be willing to take such a risk. This time, the gift was sitting in a glass vase, filled with water. In the vase were the flowers you adored with the lovely aroma. Happily, you whiffed the scent. Picking up the note that came with the gift, it read, ‘These flowers reminded me of you. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do… Sincerely, Griselda.’

“Don’t die on me, Little Sister. I won’t allow it~”

You were very confused to see a red-headed girl on her hands and knees, panting heavily for air. She was shaken too, a sickly color to her pale skin and the cold sweat that ran down the exposed parts of her body. But as you caught the dim red glow in the corner of your eye, as well as the faint sound of wings flapping, you were able to put two-and-two together; the girl was most likely tormented by Roxana’s infamous killer butterflies.

You pitied her, knowing what those butterflies were capable of, one almost biting your finger clean off your hand in one instance. But, that was just a sole butterfly you dealt with, she must have encountered several. And from one victim to another, you approached her shaking form in the hopes of comforting her.

Though… it seems she didn’t appreciate the sentiment… the fiery stare she gave you in response shut you up quickly and almost made you lose your bowels right there. Screaming insults and curses, she sprang to her feet and shoved past you, storming off to where she wanted to go. You just stood there in your spot, wide-eyed with your hands on your chest. Well, that’s what you get for roping yourself into situations that didn’t concern you…

From her outburst, you didn’t anticipate seeing her again, nor do you think she would want to see you. So her interrupting the tea party with yourself in the garden the next day startled you. Overcoming your shock, you smiled at her and invited her to join you and enjoy a couple of biscuits. She stuck her nose into the air and gawked at you as though you’d grown two heads… but still agreed. You did most of the talking, shortly learning her name, CHARLOTTE, and her exchanging haughty remarks here and then. It was a decent event…

If only you knew what exactly your brief display of kindness unconsciously resigned yourself to. Charlotte… was awfully demanding. After the tea party, Charlotte appeared by you very frequently, ordering that you drop whatever it was you were doing, and spend time with her. It could be one of the most important things you had to handle and she would not care. You could be with one of your siblings and she would not care. You could be sick and worn out, she will NOT care. If she wants to be with you, it will be now, no time for discussion. Just TRY to say no, it won’t do you any good. You said yes a lot, mostly because of your fear of what she will do if you deprive her of what she desired. She already made you petrified with a glare, how much worse will it be once she reaches her limit and lashes out? You have no ability to defend yourself when the time comes, so why should you cause trouble? Give in and avoid the unnecessary problem.

She was shaking with fury, hands angrily pulling at her puffy pigtails. How dare they…? HOW DARE THEY!? Are they stupid!? What do you mean you can’t spend time with her!? YOU BOTH ALWAYS SPEND TIME TOGETHER AT THIS TIME! WHY was she and him getting in her way of being with YOU!? They have to be stupid! While she went through an internal crisis, you clutched at your clothes, tears pricking at your eyes. Her green eyes were practically glowing with wrath from the hatred she harbored for your older sister and brother! She was also on the verge of snapping, that you can tell. She was losing all of her morality the longer they denied her what she wanted. You would have excused yourself long ago, but when she’s like this, that’s not the ideal option, for she may do something regrettable to you. Stepping behind your sister, your ears twitched at the sound of a whip cracking, inclusive of a butterflies’ wings, indicating the start of a full-on brawl.

“GO AWAY! Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something!?”

And finally… YOU! How do you feel about your family's attention to you? You never saw how other families interact with their kin… but you knew that what your family was doing was wrong. It was dangerous and obsessive. Would you tell them that? No. Unless you wish to suffer a fate worse than death by confronting them, you will keep your silence until all the odds are in your favor.

They were the butterflies, your mannerisms and kindness as the sweet nectar and color that attracted them, and you, their delicate flower.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

[squiddy-god]

Hello!! I just read your twst x chubby S/O and I thought it was amazing! Could I request Third Years x S/O who's into crocheting and crochets them plushies or keychains as random gifts? Plus a bonus when they admit that after they graduation Night raven they want to start a small business on it after hiding it if you want >w<

Hehehehe i love this so much because i crochet! It is one of my many house husband skills, personally my favorite things to make is these little octopuses but i should really branch out lol, this reminds me of those manhwas where the mc starts a business that booms 

Cw : tooth rotting fluff, mc has a successful side hustle to make that bag, gn reader, bonus grim because i love my cat so much, my son, grims is obvi platonic, rsa mention because vil is petty

Grim 

Oh hes bragging 

His human henchman is the best because they make him cute gifts 

The skrungly

I wanna make him little kitty outfits for every occasion

Making grim cat toys and he acts like he doesn't like them at first but he literally wont sleep without the crochet tuna fish you made him 

I think he needs a little kitty bag to wear and put his stuff in (mostly tuna) 

He would taunt the others because clearly he is the most special kitty with his very cool bad and fish 

He is and i won't stand for anyone telling me otherwise, i love our bastard cat son

Cater 

Hes obsessed 

If you make him a keychain then he is adding it to his growing collection on his phone right away

I hc that hes a big fan of stuffed animals so he adores anny that you make him and they sit on his bed 

He names all of them

He helps you start the small business during school actually! At first its his suggestion to run a magicam page for all your creations 

Soon the comments are flooded with people asking if you sell, one thing leads to another and boom you now have a successful side hustle 

Rsa is honestly a big seller they love this kind of stuff

He loves everything you make him and never stops posting about his love for it

Very supportive of your small business ventures 

His favorite thing you've made him is a little bag for pens and pencils that is shaped like a playing card because he thinks its just the cutest thing in the world 

And the keychains that he gets to show off whenever he whips his phone out (often)

Some of his favorite candid photos of you are when you’re crocheting peacefully 

Trey 

Dometic bliss pt.1

Trey is,,,such an old man- he like baking and the simple domestic little things like making you coffee/tea in the morning 

He loves to watch you crochet because he thinks its very cute and wholesome to spend time when you are doing activities together that are calm 

MAKE THIS MAN DOILIES AND POT HOLDERS please 

He adores the set of frilly doilies you made him and the cute potholders are always in use

He is 100% in support of your dreams of making that bag, honestly he really thinks you should get a start now to make extra cash on the side since 7 forbid crowley pay you for the work you do

He smiles every time he sees a tart cooling on one of the doilies you made him, seeing the little pattern always makes him happy

He trades you baked good for the things you make him so i hope you enjoy sweet treats

Leona 

Cat…big kitty…

Oddly captivated by any balls or skeins of yarn that are out and about but hes fighting the urge to play with them 

He is not beating the house cat allegations 

At first hes pretty neutral on it honestly, he likes the gifts you give him because they are just his but hes not a big keychain guy, or stuffies

Then you make him a blanket and hes gone 

He claims to be neutral about it, saying he likes the gift but dont be fooled by his aloof act he sleeps with that blanket everywhere 

He is bringing it to class if he doesn't just skip the class 

It is his favorite blanket and he almost lost his shit when ruggie took it to wash it- he's kinda territorial about the blanket 

Gives 0 fucks that its some cutesy blanket with little lions on it

Also a big fan of pillows/pillow covers 

If you make him multiple blankets he loves them too but the first one is extra special to him 

Hes neutral about you starting a business during or after school/graduation because well,,,he's a whole prince,,,

You make cheka a matching blanket and leona gets a very happy letter from his brother on how much the mini lion loves it, leona rolls his eyes but is secretly very proud of you 

Regardless if you want to start the small business he is happy to support you making that bread 

Vil 

Vil in crochet clothes my beloved 

Hes charmed by your little hobby and the adorable stuffed animal you made him, a little crochet owl that sits on his vanity so he sees it when he does his makeup and night routine 

Vil does not post a lot of personal stuff on his magicam/socials, but he does wear anything you make him, he has a folder in his gallery dedicated to photos of the two of you, dates or candid photos either he took or rook took and sent to him. 

Most of these pics he's in something you crochet for him even if it's just a simple keychain it's a staple of his 

He is very supportive of your dreams of starting a business for your crochet, he admires the drive and discipline and encourages you to pursue this work 

Ironically if you start a side hustle soon to be full business, neige of all people is a big customer as he's fond of cute stuff like this 

This is where vil gets petty 

He sees a photo post of neige’s where he’s in a new outfit, not odd at all, what catches vils attention is that the cardigan and hat he's wearing is oddly similar to a piece he saw you working on for an order- anyone watching can see the twitch in vil’s eye when he sees the shoutout to you in the caption

The next 5-8 posts of vil’s are a mix of his regular posts and pictures of him in your clothes or with the keychains, all with captions along the lines of “my beautiful s/o @[your name here]”

He even posts the owl

Rook 

If you were to make him a keychain he calls it his lucky charm for hunting and always had it on him. 

Really he's just fond of anything you make him

a lot of his photos are of you when you are deep in a project and not paying attending, candid photos like this are his favorites and he looks at them often 

He really likes any little animal stuffies you make because he thinks they are just the cutest 

“Hunts” your plushies aka he will sneak up on you making them or sorting them out and act like he caught them 

Silly

He is very supportive of your business ventures, he loves to see you so passionate about wanting to eventually start a small business and be able to sell your creations 

He definitely encourages you to sell a few things in sams shop, afterall he sells anything and everything anyone could ever need

Idia 

The outfits you make grim are his faves 

He is a cat man at heart and cant help but coo over every new thing you make grim because it makes the kitty so so so cute and as a cat he was already uber SS+ cute levels 

He is also a big fan of any keychains you make him or even stuffies

The stuffies either are on his bed so he can cuddle them or they are with the rest of his game/anime figures on his shelves so its a horrific mix of like neon genesis mechs and crochet 

I think it would be funny to make him doilies to put the figures on because when hes gaming and people are like “dude why is your [super cool limited edition game figure] on a doily???” hes like “haha L+loser+lonely+my super cool s/o made them for me lvl10 affection” and is it cringe as hell? Yes. can those normies suck it because hes no longer forever alone? Also yes

They are demanding proof or it didn't happen 

Ortho is also a big fan and has a lil keychain you made hooked on him <3

idia would actually combust if you made anything themed after a game or show he watches/plays because that is SS+ max lvl affection with full hearts right there 

You have unlocked the super secret route and that is unlimited discord nitro and a new pc because he is so happy 

He also would support your business during and after school 

Malleus 

Domestic bliss pt 2

Genuinely you are breaking this guy. Like he cannot take it anymore 

I feel we all can agree malleus is prone to casual proposals because hes just,,,kinda like that

He pictures a future with you by his side and you aren't making it any better by being so endearing 

When he sees you doing something as simple as sitting down and crocheting his draconic heart is filled with sweet domestic love, makes him feel like an old married couple and he can't take it lmao 

At first he's a bit weird about accepting gifts as it's a big deal in fae culture to just,,,get a gift out of nowhere

But he does accept them, he simply gives you something he sees as equal value (this is how you end up with several big ass gems)

He considers all of your gifts his most precious items, his favorites however are the following 4 gifts he has received 

A keychain that looks like his gaogao-drakon-kun tamagotchi witch he keeps on the same keychain as said virtual pet

A gargoyle plushy that he considers to be one of his most treasured gifts, in a similar light he has a plushie of your fave animal and you have a dragon plushie that match (this almost killed him)

And a little crochet bracelet that you match (he never takes it off unless he has to) 

Your desire to start a business throws him for a loop at first because in his mind you are happily by his side in the briar valley, (he is very male lead coded) but he quickly re-adjusts to account for your business plans and he is the most supportive dragon you could ever hope for 

Lilia 

Old man (affectionate) 

 I like to think lilia knits and is simply overjoyed when he finds out you crochet 

You exchange little gifts 

It makes his very old fae heart happy to sit around the ramshackle fireplace and crochet/knit with you while chatting about your day/week, simple things like this make him feel like hes back in the old days with a baby silver 

He loves anything you make him and happily wears any keychains or items he is gifted

Stuffies are named and placed around his room without a hint of shame 

And he loves that you have such good goals and dreams like a business 

I like the idea of meeting general lilia and also making him something 

At first he is confused, almost indignant that you would have the gaul to give him a gift- of all people he would never accept such a token

Maybe its something simple, a granny square on the lacy side that resembles something akin to a handkerchief, something small you explain as a favor, something youd give a knight 

He claims he is disgusted by such human customs but his grip on the crochet piece is unmistakable, and the way you wake up the next morning to a small green gem-the same that adorns his armor, tells you all you need to

[sapphire-scarletta-wol]

Crystal exarch to random citizens all over norvrandt: excuse me good person,have you a moment to talk about our lord and savior,warrior of darkness?

Encyclopedia Eorzea III On the Crystal Exarch's travels

[theemporium]

if you decide to do luke & cherry blurbs, i love me some angst but i know you said you’re including angst in the actual storyline lol, but i really love the sweet domestic moments like when they take naps on her couch tg or she gives him head scratches so i’d love more wholesome stuff too that captures just how hard they are falling in love, although i love reading the smut it’s nice to also see the sweet side of their relationship 🫶🏼

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

series masterlist

.

“I don’t get it.”

You turned your attention away from the TV screen and towards the boy that was currently sprawled on top of you. 

“You don’t get what?” 

“This doppelgänger stuff,” Luke muttered, his cheek pressed against your stomach and his arms wrapped around your thighs. “So, there’s two of them now? Does everyone get a doppelgänger? Do we have to deal with two Jeremy’s?” 

You snorted, raising your hand to gently push through his curls. “No. Well, Stefan has a doppelgänger too but you don’t see him until, like, season five or something.” 

“Huh,” Luke hummed. “Who knew being a vampire brought so much drama.” 

“This is only season two, it gets so much worse,” you told the boy, watching with amusement as his head snapped up to look at you. 

“Worse? How can it get worse? She’s almost died every episode!” Luke scoffed, the episode now paused and his chin pressing against your lower stomach as he looked up at you like a lost puppy.

“It’s The Vampire Diaries, Luke, that’s the whole point of the show,” you snorted. “They cry. They die. Some come back to life. Some don’t. And you have to have that one character you despise no matter what even if they are liked by everyone else.” 

Luke nodded, looking oddly serious. “Jeremy Gilbert.” 

“And you get to meet the love of my life,” you added, lighthearted and playful and so unaware of the way the boy tensed on top of you. 

“Who?” 

You let out a wistful sigh. “Klaus Mikaelson.” 

“Klaus,” he repeated with a blink. “Like Santa Claus?” 

“Not Claus, Klaus,” you corrected, rolling your eyes. “He’s the best character in this show, just you wait and see. You’ll love him.” 

Luke laid his head back down on your stomach, a frown on his lips. “I’m sure I will.” 

“Don’t get jealous,” you mused, your nails scratching across his scalp. “I wouldn’t give Klaus head scratches and let him squish me for three episodes straight.”

“You’re comfy,” Luke huffed in response, nuzzling himself further against your stomach.

“And I guess you’re a pretty good blanket,” you teased lightly. “Save me a bunch on heating too.” 

Luke didn’t bother trying to hide his smile. “M’not that warm.” 

“You’re a fucking furnance, Hughes,” you retorted. 

“But you love it,” he snapped back. 

Your lips twitched. “Yeah, I guess I do.” 

Luke didn’t bother hiding the smile that took over his face. “Bet Klaus isn’t a furnace.” 

You snorted. “Drop it, Luke!”

.

[forbebeandjam]

I was thinking along the lines a sweet smut fic of g!p Bada and sweet wifey reader. Where reader asks Bada for a baby cause she wants to grow their family.

Baby Mine | Bada Lee g!p x Fem Reader | Smutty Fluff

Summary: your baby fever was stronger than you thought.

World count: 1.7k

Warnings: g!p Bada, fingering, etc. MDNI

READERS DISCRETION IS ADVISED

A/N: once again trying something new. I have to be honest and say, I don’t know if I did this right. I used to write BTS smuts before so… yeah. Hope I did okay for you! Enjoy!!

Marrying Bada had to be one of the best decisions of your life. Being by her side was so wholesome. You could look forward to seeing her at the end of a long shift and cooking her favorite meal. 

Though being apart was painful sometimes, you were both busy dancers but that never came between the love you had for each other. That was until you finally had a Street Woman Fighter 2 gathering. 

You would get to tour and hang out together every day along with the other girls that you missed. 

However, some stage feeling in you started to develop when you saw Aiki with her daughter while you worked. The way they bonded was just so pure and beautiful. Then you saw your other actor friends, with their children or pregnant. 

You didn't want to burden Bada with your thoughts. You knew she was at the peak of her career and you would never do anything to interfere with that so you just kept quiet. Every time you two had sexual intercourse she would end up pulling out like always so you also assumed she didn't want kids yet.

After packing and heading to your second destination of the tour, you were having so much fun playing around on stage and behind the stage with your friends. On the third day of the tour, you could see some of the girl's families arrive to visit them. 

Including Akanen's husband and daughter. Akanen was such a sweet mother but you were never close to her. You never had the guts to approach her. Bada on the other hand was close friends with her. 

One day after the show you went to the dressing rooms and you saw how Akanen's daughter ran up to Bada. Bada picked her up and spun her around. The little girl laughed and giggled and then her eyes landed on you. 

"This is my beautiful wife," Bada said as she approached you and the girl held your face with a warm smile. Your entire being was moved by the girl and a tear threatened to escape your eye but you held back and walked away.

You got dressed and packed. Bada asked if something was bothering you but you didn't say anything and headed to the hotel. You were oddly quiet given the fact that you got to share a van with Audrey, Emma, and Bada. Usually, you always play around with them or do karaoke but this time you just lay your head on Emma's shoulder and look straight ahead. 

When you arrived at the hotel, you grabbed your bags and walked out of the van without waiting for Bada. You wanted to avoid her before blurting out something you didn't mean.

You placed your things in the room and went to shower. Bada didn't say a thing already sensing something was wrong. She decided to give you some space and she went to shower. 

You brushed your hair calmly looking out the window and staring at the city. Your mind was filled with thoughts of little feet running around the house and the sweet giggles and cries of a newborn. 

Suddenly, you came back to reality when you felt Bada's hands wrap around your figure. She placed soft kisses from your cheek to your neck knowing how to get your mind off of things. You tilted your head allowing her full access to your neck so she could continue.

"Just relax. I'll make you feel good," she said and you smiled. You turned to her slightly pushed her onto the bed and straddled her. She kissed you on the forehead and smiled. 

"What's going on inside your mind, babe?" she said as she locked eyes with you. It was never hard to communicate your words and thoughts to Bada. She always made it easy to share your feelings. 

"Well... I am feeling a bit tired from the show and..." You hesitated to speak for fear of saying something that might upset her. 

"Talk to me. Please," she said as she pushed your hair behind your ear. 

"Well, I was working with Aiki and she had her daughter with us and she was so sweet and nice. Then I was talking to Yejin and she showed me her baby. Then Akanen and her cute daughter..." you paused to gather your thoughts. 

"Baby... what are you trying to say?" Bada asked in concern when she saw how your eyes were tearing up. 

"You looked so perfect while holding her and then she touched my face and I... I thought of how good of a mother you would be and how pretty I would look pregnant. Bada..." You held her face and looked deep into her eyes. 

"I want to have your babies," you finally blurted out. Her face turned a bright red but her eyes didn't divert from yours. 

"Bada Lee, I want you to put a baby in me," You said once more to make sure the message got across. 

You didn't say anything else but felt the member in her pants harden against your thigh making you grin. 

"Baby, don't play with me," she said as she shut her eyes. 

"I am not playing, Bada. I have never been so serious about anything," You said as you lowered yourself on her clothed penis grinding against it. She let out a soft groan. and took a hold of your his. With one swift move, she flipped you and was now on top of you. 

"I have been dreaming about this for years. My own little family with you. It will be perfect, baby," she said as she attacked your lips hungrily. You used your hands to remove the underwear under your silk nightgown. 

The straps of your dress fell over your shoulders exposing your breast to her sight and she didn't hesitate to take one in her mouth, savoring it. 

She used her free hand to remove the sweats she was wearing and collected the juices dripping down from you with her long member. Slowly sliding between your gushy walls allowing you to adjust to her. 

You bit your lip and looked up at her innocently. Those eyes drove her crazy. Something about the thought of finally getting to release inside of you made her even more turned on. So she began to move. 

She started off with slow thrusts and your bodies moved in sync like a dance. The devil's tango. But as you moaned her name and occasional coos of "faster, baby," and "more, please," she began to increase her pace. 

She began to speed up using her hand to rub on your now-sensitive clit. You felt yourself clench around her length when she reached your sweet spot. She moaned as her elbows were on each side of your head for support. 

Both of your breathing patterns were speedy and short. 

"I'm almost there. Don't stop, Bada. Please," you said making her grin. 

"What is it that you want, baby?" she asked. 

"Cum in me, please. Please, Bada," you began to rock your hips for friction but she used her hands to hold down your hips hard. 

"I love it when you beg for me," she said and started trusting again using her hands to go deeper in you by pulling your hips against you. 

Your eyes shut close and when you opened them you could only see stars. The ecstasy of the moment was too much you thought you couldn't handle it. 

That was until, with one last thrust, she poured herself inside of you. Rippling waves of pleasure washed through your body and your eyes rolled back. Bada soon collapsed on top of you, still inside. 

You thought she was finished but you clenched once more around her making her groan loudly and let out more of her seed inside of you. She didn't bother to get up from you and once you both recovered from the magical moment, you began to stroke her hair as she lay on your bare chest. 

"So, what do you want to name her... or him?" she asked. 

"I haven't given any thought. What about, Yeni Cho?" you said with a giggle. 

"Ha. Ha. Very funny," she sarcastically said. 

"I don't care about any of that. All that matters is that we are on the same page, baby," you said and she nodded. Soon you both drifted off to sleep. 

-

(A few months later)

Touring was over and you were sitting on the couch biting your nails. You had bought almost all of the pregnancy tests available at the store. Bada was supposed to return home soon from her trip to Vietnam. 

You jumped at the sound of the timer indicating your seven pregnancy tests were ready and the result should be revealed soon but you couldn't bring yourself to look at them. You paced the bathroom like a lunatic and talked to yourself. 

"Baby! I am home," You jumped at Bada's voice. You were so busy, you didn't even hear the code to come in the house or her keys. 

"I'm in the bathroom, Bada," You said still biting your nails. Bada walked to the bathroom and her eyes widened when she saw how many pregnancy tests were on the counter. 

"Baby, are you-"

"I don't know. I've been standing here for like five minutes and I'm nervous. I missed my period and I've been getting morning sickness so... I just figured I should discard any possibilities before going to the doctor. You look. I can't do it," You said and walked out of the bathroom. 

Bada turned test after test. Her face changed each time she held a new one. You walked in feeling eager. 

"We are going to be moms, baby. We are going to be moms!" she said as he picked you up and kissed your lips. 

"All of them? Are they all positive?" you asked. Bada nodded repeatedly as tears escaped her eyes. She embraced you in her warmth and you cried together. 

This was truly the start of something new. A new growing family. Something beautiful and you were forever grateful that Bada would be the mother of your future babies.

Thank you for reading🩵

[solxamber]

Not sure if this is allowed since I just recently requested it, and you recently posted it, but if you want to, can you make a part two to the rollo fic? He got me kicking my feet giggling and blushing just like yuu fr...

Rollo Flamme x Reader

part 1: here

rollo anon i hope this is what you wanted, if not, let me know 🫡

Dating Rollo turned out to be… oddly wholesome. You had braced yourself for awkwardness, tension, maybe even a lecture on the dangers of magic every time you held hands, but instead, Rollo was... incredibly considerate. And to your low, dirt-floor standards, he was absolutely killing it.

Take your first “official” date. He’d invited you to the library—yes, the library—because, in his words, “What could be more stimulating than expanding one’s knowledge together?” You almost choked on your tea when he said it, but you went along. And honestly? It was kinda sweet.

Rollo arrived, dressed impeccably as always, with a bouquet of non-lethal flowers. That alone had your heart skipping several beats. “I thought you might appreciate something... symbolic,” he said, handing them over with a proud smile. “They represent thoughtfulness.”

You blinked, staring down at the very normal flowers in awe. Thoughtful flowers? For you? From a guy who wasn’t trying to actively ruin your life? The bar was so low, and yet here he was, cartwheeling over it like some sort of overachieving gymnast.

“Wow, Rollo, these are... perfect,” you said, genuinely touched. “No one’s ever gotten me something so thoughtful before.”

Rollo blinked, genuinely confused. “Really? No one?”

You shrugged, smiling awkwardly. “Nope. This is... new.”

That seemed to light a little spark in his eyes, like he’d just been given a new challenge. “Well then,” he said, voice soft but resolute, “I’ll have to make sure this becomes a regular occurrence.”

Cue you, nearly melting into a puddle of feelings on the library floor.

And it didn’t stop there. The smallest things he did were, in your mind, the epitome of romance. Like when he held the door open for you, or how he always poured your tea first. Or the time he walked you home just to make sure you got back to Ramshackle safely, even though you both knew you were probably safer from harm than anyone else on campus.

“You really didn’t have to walk me all the way,” you mumbled, feeling giddy but trying to play it cool.

Rollo, ever the gentleman, gave a small, approving nod. “It’s only right to ensure your safety. Besides, it’s a pleasant walk.”

Pleasant?! Rollo, this was practically a marriage proposal in your eyes.

Then there was the time you’d been casually talking about books (because apparently, that was your new thing now—having intelligent conversations), and Rollo mentioned offhandedly, “I’ve taken the liberty of requesting a copy of that novel you were interested in. I thought we could read it together.”

You nearly short-circuited. He remembered what you liked? He went out of his way to get it for you? NRC was full of selfish jerks who’d trip over themselves for extra homework help, and here was Rollo—an actual prince among men—doing something so simple and thoughtful that you had to excuse yourself to go scream into a pillow later that night.

One time, you were walking around the gardens, and Rollo gently draped his coat over your shoulders because it was chilly. It was such a normal, nice thing to do, but your brain, ruined by years of absolute chaos, could barely comprehend it.

You gave him a grateful smile, heart practically bursting. “Thanks. That’s really sweet of you.”

Rollo tilted his head, eyebrow raised. “Sweet? It’s just practical. You were cold.”

Sure, maybe it was practical, but the only practical things you were used to involved someone stopping Grim from lighting things on fire. The sheer normalcy of this kind of care was borderline magical.

When you got to the front steps of Ramshackle, you expected him to say goodnight and leave, but instead, he lingered for just a moment. “I hope you’ll join me for tea again soon,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

You nodded, heart doing somersaults. “Yeah, definitely. Tea sounds... great.”

And then, in a move so simple yet so devastatingly perfect, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, squeezing it lightly before stepping back. “Goodnight,” he said, turning to leave with that cool, composed demeanor of his.

Meanwhile, you stood there, practically vibrating with excitement because, holy hell, he held your hand.

Rollo, in his usual intense way, probably thought he was just being courteous, doing the bare minimum of politeness. But to you? This was peak romance. No deadly plants, no chaos, no magic explosions—just... a nice guy, treating you like a person.

And honestly? That was more than enough.

Masterlist

[angstandhappiness]

NEAT

What's so special about my AU's shadow you ask? Well not to brag but...

Been absolutely loving getting to make all this wholesome Shadow art, along with different writing ideas for how Chaos energy truly works. more content is on the way

Stay tuuned!

[atleastpleasetelephone]

I know you’re in the middle of Kinktober (and crushing it btw!!!) so I’m sure you won’t be taking requests for a while, but leaving this in your inbox because I cant stop thinking about it. Humbly requesting wholesome cockwarming with BDE 🙏🏼

A/N: Thank you very much! I decided to make this a sequel to Bunny.

Not that innocent

Pairing: BDE x reader

Word count: 2.3K

TWs: Erectile dysfunction, cockwarming, p in v sex, a lot of cum, a short appearance from angry!Elvis, reader cries (not sex-related).

Elvis likes you, so he wants to keep you around. He was a little anxious that maybe you didn’t like him back when you said no to his invitation to spend the night. But then you turn up to his show the next night wearing the dress he’d had sent to you, so some of the anxiety dissipates. He feels like he does the entire show for you, the moves, the songs, even when he’s kissing all those other women he still has you in mind. You intrigue him - he thought you were shy, and then you asked him all those questions. All those oddly pertinent questions. As though you could see inside his mind and knew that he was sad and lonely a lot of the time. He wants you by his side again so he can talk to you some more. And of course it wouldn’t hurt to teach you a few more things in the bedroom. 

This time you decide to go to Elvis’ suite alone. Your friends aren’t that interested in going again anyway - they’re only in Tahoe for one more night and then they’re going back home. You’re supposed to go with them, only you’re not sure if you will. There’s not a lot pulling you back to Virginia. Your job, of course, but no significant other or pets or anything like that. And you could get another job. It might not be that professional to just stay in Tahoe until the end of Elvis’ residency, but part of you is wondering if you should try living a little. 

As soon as he sees you Elvis’ hands are on you, guiding you around the room as he murmurs questions in your ear about the show and what you’re drinking tonight. You answer him brightly, because you loved the show and you’re dying for another margherita. He settles you down next to him on the sofa and immediately starts talking to the rest of the people around him in an extremely animated fashion. You sip quietly on your drink and watch him. He really is very handsome, and you love the way he talks. Not just his accent, but the way he says things, something about it really appeals to you. 

After an hour or so, you start to get antsy. You’ve been sitting in the same position, with Elvis’s arm around your shoulders, being jostled by him as he moves back and forth. And you’re uncomfortable. And if you’re really, truly, being honest, a little bored. You tap his leg cautiously and look up into his face. He’s still talking though, barely registering anything else in the room other than the conversation that he’s so completely immersed in. You tap again, but there’s still no response. Then you think of something that will get his attention, your little hand wandering over to his groin and squeezing his balls. 

“Bunny!” Elvis’ face is red and his eyes are wide. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, your eyes meeting his a little reluctantly. “I tried to nudge you but you weren’t paying attention.”

Elvis is briefly furious at the fact that you’ve touched him, there, in public, and part of him wants to throw you out of the suite and never see you again. There’s a weird stillness in the room as everyone around him waits to see how he’s going to react. It’s not as if any of them actually saw what happened, but they all know that tone, and that there’s a high likelihood of the entire suite being cleared out in the next couple of minutes. 

“You can’t do that!” He rages, far too loud and too close to your face. 

You’d heard that he has mood swings nowadays, you’d read about them in the newspapers. He’d been nothing but sweet to you last night, though, so you hadn’t really believed it. But here you were now, right in the middle of one. You burst into tears. 

“I d-didn’t mean to… I… I… it’s uncomfortable and loud and I don’t know anyone but you and I don’t even know you…” the words are rushing out of you at a rate of knots and you struggle to make them stop. “I just wanted y-your attention, it’s too much b-being here on my o-own…” you sniff loudly and then succumb to sobbing again. 

“Oh, bunny…” Elvis softens immediately, seeing how upset you are and knowing he’s the cause of it. 

“Right, Charlie, everyone out!” He shouts into the room, and then without warning scoops you up and carries you into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. 

“Bunny I’m so sorry,” he coos, placing you down on the bed and sitting himself next to you. 

You sniff and try to get your breathing under control as he passes you a box of tissues. “It’s… it’s okay.”

He watches as you wipe your face and take a few more gulping breaths of air, gradually calming down again. 

“Ya don’t like all those other people?” He asks, gently. 

You shake your head. “N-no. It’s just a bit much.”

“Sorry, honey. C’mere.” He pulls you into his arms, your head on his chest as he strokes your hair lovingly. You both stay like that for a while, and then he wonders what you were trying to get his attention about in the first place. Now he’s had some time to think about it, it’s kind of a funny way to get his attention, and if nudging didn’t work he can’t really blame you for doing it. 

“What did ya want anyway, Bunny?”

You move your head to look at him. “Jus’ your attention. Wanted to move off that sofa and do something else.”

He grins. “Well ya got what ya wanted.”

You wriggle up his body, your hand burrowing into his hair. “I kinda wanted something else, too.” You press your lips against his and he responds eagerly, kissing you gently at first and then with increasing passion. 

You start to pull at his clothes and it’s not long before he finds himself naked with you, a position he doesn’t usually like to be in with the lights on, but somehow your little body is making him care less about it than usual. He caresses you with his big, guitar-roughened  hands and you moan, kissing him and rubbing your body against his. He’s shocked when you pull away from his embrace and straddle his thighs, your hand tugging on him just like he taught you yesterday. He’s even more shocked when he feels you rub the head on your pussy, your arousal covering him as you sink down onto his length. 

“Fuck,” he groans, looking down at you through hooded eyes. “Thought ya were an innocent lil bunny.”

You giggle, settling yourself down, his dick completely inside you. “I’ve had sex before, Elvis.”

He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “‘parently so. Ya not gonna move then, bunny?”

You giggle again, shaking your head and running your hands over your breasts, arching your back as you do it. He groans. “Thought I might tease you a little?”

“T-tease me?” He stumbles over the word a little. He really read you wrong when he met you, you might’ve been terrible at handjobs but you definitely know what you’re doing with your body right now. 

“Mmm. Jus’ sit on it.” You bite your lip and tip your head to one side. One of your girlfriends had told you about teasing and you thought it seemed fun, but you hadn’t really had much of an opportunity to try. The couple of guys you’d been with were so demanding about their own pleasure you’d been more of a fun plaything than a woman with agency. 

“S-sit on it?” Elvis feels like he has to stop repeating everything you say back to you as a question, but it’s like his brain has gone completely blank. Apart from the part that reminds him that he’s 40 and he takes too many meds for his dick to co-operate like this for too long. And he doesn’t want to say that out loud. 

You grin. It seems like it’s working. You rock your hips just a little and he moans in response. Biting your lip, you decide to try pushing it a little further. 

“Maybe you’ll think twice about being so mean to me, next time?”

Elvis’ expression changes a little, and you wonder if you’ve pushed it too far. His hand reaches to slap you on the side of the thigh. 

“C’mon. I apologised fer that. Ya need ta move.”

His tone is bordering on annoyed, and you consider it for a minute and then shake your head, going for your best attempt at a girlie cute little grin. 

“No! Not yet.”

Elvis groans, feeling himself starting to get soft. 

“Please!”

“No!” 

You think you’re still teasing, until you feel something change inside you and watch something changing on his face, too. 

“Ya may as well jus’ get off,” he huffs. 

You tilt your head to one side and look at him. “Don’t want to.”

Still huffing, he gets up onto his elbows and looks at you sternly. “There’s no point now.”

His tone is bitter but he keeps staring at you, waiting to see what you’re going to do. Expecting you to move. But you don’t want to. You don’t feel as full as you did earlier, but he’s still nestled inside you and you like that feeling. 

“I like it,” you tell him, then you hold out your arms. “Want you closer.”

He’s confused but the way you’re being with him softens his frustrations and he finds himself sitting up as you ask, with you adjusting to make sure he doesn’t fall out. After some wriggling he finally finds himself with his arms around you and his head on your shoulder, breathing in your scent. 

“Too old ta be teased,” he whispers. 

“Maybe I’m jus’ not good at teasing,” you suggest. 

“Hmmm.”

“Like the feeling of you inside like this.”

He grumbles into the crook of your neck, then sighs, relenting. “Like it too.”

You sit there for a while, in one another’s arms, enjoying the feeling of closeness. Then you wiggle your hips a little. 

“You think I can get it back?”

“Hmmm?”

“Your hard-on. Think I can get it back? I’m not that good at teasing but I am good at… other stuff.”

Elvis shakes his head a little to clear it of your dirty words. “I dunno, honey. Little Elvis isn’t that co-operative nowadays.”

You giggle, moving so you can look at him properly. “Little Elvis? You named it?”

He looks down, shyly. “Y-yeah. I named it.”

“Ohhh. Maybe I should talk to him.”

“What’re ya gonna say?”

You think for a while, tilting your head to the side and nibbling on your lower lip, going through several options. Then you decide you’ve come up with it, and smile brightly at him. 

“I think I’m gonna say, Little Elvis… you’re not actually that little, are you?”

Elvis bursts out laughing, his fingertips digging into your fleshy hips as he throws his head back. Your hands hold onto the back of his neck as you grin at his reaction. 

“I’m also gonna say, I like playing with you, and I’d really like it if you got all red and hard for me again. But if you’re too tired, I understand.”

Elvis is still laughing, all the tension from earlier has completely gone and he just loves how silly you’re being. It’s making him feel like the whole thing is less serious than he’d first imagined. Then he starts to feel something as you rock your hips back and forth on him, your ass firmly pressed against his thighs so he doesn’t slip out. A little hardening, a little rush of blood back down there again. Your lips find his ear and you murmur into it. 

“Want to show you how good I am at this. I know you’ve had a lot of girls and I’m sure I’m not the best, but I want to try.”

He groans at your words and your movements, and he starts to think that you’re right, you are good at this and you can bring his erection back. He’s never known a girl be able to do it before, he usually gets so psyched out and upset when it happens he doesn’t even let them try. 

“Bunny,” he breathes, feeling your pussy hugging him again as you start to roll your hips forwards, pushing your breasts against his chest. 

“Elvis,” you moan back, raising yourself up on your knees just a little before sitting back down. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, his hands on your ass as you start to make your movements bigger and bigger, until finally you’re bouncing on him like…well… a bunny rabbit. 

You move one of your hands to rub your clit as the familiar feeling inside you builds, his dick pleasuring you just the way you like. You’ve only been in this position once or twice, but those are the times you’ve been able to cum from sex and so you’re excited to do this with Elvis. You watch his face contort in pleasure and it brings you even closer, thinking that you’re the cause, you’re what’s making him feel so good. Your fingers rub faster and you keep bouncing, his hands helping you move now too, fucking you on his dick. 

Leaning back, you finally sigh out your orgasm, so quietly Elvis would’ve missed it if he was just relying on his ears. But he feels you, and then he knows he has to move you before he cums. His strong hands pull you off him completely and set you down somewhere around his knees, before he grabs his dick and quickly jerks himself, cumming in seconds, his release spurting all over your belly and tits. Lying down with a groan, he wraps his arm around you as you lie down next to him. 

“I need a shower,” you whisper in his ear. 

He’s still breathing hard, trying to recover from his orgasm, and he pries his eyes open to look at you. You’re literally covered in his cum. 

“Shit.”

You giggle. “Told you I was good at it.”

He shakes his head with a wry smile. “Knew Bunny was a good name fer ya. Jus’ didn’t realise how good. Until now…”

***

@vintagepresley @arg-xoxo @from-memphis-with-love @msamarican @blursedblegh @returntopresley @eapep @everythingelvispresley @i-r-i-n-a-a @sissylittlefeather @arrolyn1114 @jhoneybees @cattcb @polksaladava @lookingforrainbows @jkdaddy01 @ccab @epthedream69 @lustnhim @elvisslut @pomtherine @that-hotdog @ladelinee @angschrof @fairybloodsucker @deltafalax @makethemorning @elviswhore69 @ilovequeen978 @wildhorseinkansas @pocketfulofpresley

[reiding-writing]

macarons and misunderstandings [ s.r ]

Summary:

You coax Spencer into joining you in a bakery café that your friend recommended you to visit whilst on a case in NYC, and although it starts as two friends getting lunch together, it doesn’t end that way.

WARNINGS: minor swearing, wholesome miscommunication

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

genre: fluff, just the most sickeningly sweet wholesome fluff

wc: 3.4k

masterlist!!

a/n: rest assured, i will be returning to my comfort zone of hurt/comfort for my next fic bc i cannot write wholesome stuff for the life of me 😭

“Alright, take a break everyone, we’ll pick this back up after everyone’s had the chance to eat,” Hotch’s voice rings across the NYPD conference room alongside the closing of the file he was reading from, and he tucks the manilla folder under his arm as he stands. “I want you all back here by 1:30,”

There’s a small chain of nods and ‘yes sir’s before the team is rising from the table and grabbing their belongings to vacate the police station to go and get some lunch, and you manage to catch Spencer right before he leaves. “Hey Spence-”

“Hm? Yeah?” He does a full U-turn with his body, almost walking straight into you in the process if not for his hand still holding the door open to give him a point of balance, and you have to stifle a small smile that tries to break its way onto your face.

“You got any plans for lunch or can I effectively kidnap you for an hour?”

Spencer gives you slightly furrowed expression although doesn’t seem opposed to the idea. “I’m not sure that was the best way to word that but no I haven’t,”

“Yeah probably not-“ You let out a small breath that could almost constitute as a laugh. "Anyway, apparently there’s a really good french bakery like two blocks away from here, we should go check it out before Hotch changes his mind and decides we’re confined to the station,”

“Right… yeah uh-.” Spencer laughed softly, encouraging you out of the door ahead of him before following behind you. “A bakery sounds really nice actually,”

"My friend told me about it when she was down here for fashion week, she said it has some of the best pastries she’s ever tried," You emphasise the word ‘best’ with your hands, and Spencer’s eyes followed them as he got caught up in your enthusiasm.

One of your favourite things about your oddly-developed friendship with Spencer was that you could do things like take a trip to a bakery together without a single hint of awkwardness.

Long since had the silences between you held any unfamiliar tension or apprehension when it came to getting to know each other those five years ago.

It was comfortable. Secure. And you weren’t entirely sure it was just a ‘friendship’.

“Did she happen to mention what type of pastries they have?” Spencer asked you, his eyebrows raised with genuine curiosity.

"She specifically mentioned the almond croissants, although i’m also eager to try their lemon crêpes because they sound absolutely amazing," You continue to exaggerate what you’re saying with your hands as you push open the door of the Police Station, exiting into the cool autumnal breeze of the New York City streets.

Spencer followed closely behind you, nodding along to what you were saying as he placed his hands the pockets of his tattered trench coat. Although, he wasn’t entirely listening to the words leaving your mouth, too focused on how the autumn breeze blew your hair softly and how the partially concealed rays of sun made your eyes look like they they held all of the stars in the milky way.

"Ooh, and macarons-" You turn towards Spencer as your excitement about what pastries to get overtakes any lingering thoughts of the case you’re working on, gripping onto his sleeve with your left hand.

You were excited about the pastries; He was excited about the warmth of your hand through his sleeve.

“Macarons do sound good. You know what would go really well with them?” Spencer looked at you as he spoke, smiling like you’d ripped the sun from the sky and given it to him as a present. “Hot chocolate.”

"Oh you are so right-" You give an immediate sharp nod at Spencer’s suggestion, sliding down his arm to rest on the inside of his elbow, fingers pressed gently into the slight curve created from where his hands rested inside his pockets.

To the unassuming eye, the two of you most probably looked like a couple out on a date, your arms linked and Spencer looking at you like you were the only person in existence.

Spencer was very aware that the way you touched him made it look like you were in a relationship.

And it made him feel a little giddy.

He had to force himself back to reality. He wasn’t in a relationship with you. All he was doing was going out with you as a friend to grab some pastries for lunch. That’s it.

"Okay so we have definite yeses to macarons and hot chocolate, I feel like we’ve gotta get at least one almond croissant considering how much my friend was raving about them, anything else?"

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a crêpe before. Maybe we should try one of those?”

Spencer had a sudden urge to kiss you, and he didn’t really know why. Maybe it was gentle heat of your fingers against his arm. Maybe it was the light pink flush on your cheeks from the cold breeze. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been subconsciously pining after you for years to the point where he could barely think of anything else.

"Yes. Definitely. 100%." You give the inside of his elbow a small squeeze at the prospect of introducing him to the delicacy that is french crêpes. "I cannot let you live a life without crêpes in it."

Spencer nodded along arbitrarily, not listening to a single word that you just said as he internally imagined how it would feel to have your hands in his hair and your lips on his skin.

Why wasn’t he in a relationship with you? You were just… perfect, and he was really into you.

He felt like there had to be a reason why you weren’t together, but that train of thought made Spencer fluster to the point he was afraid you’d be able to see it if he thought about it any longer.

"Aha," You make an exclamation of victory as the bakery comes into view, pushing the door open with a soft bell chime and tugging Spencer inside with you with a gentle but excited insistence.

The bakery looked amazing, although much closer to a café. It had a small quaint European feel to it despite it being on a main Street in New York City, and surprisingly, it wasn’t that busy either. It was the exact type of bakery that Spencer had hoped it would be.

You scour the chalkboard menu for a second to make sure they actually had everything you wanted before going up to order, and Spencer noticed as your hand slid downwards to the inside of his wrist so that you could lean forward to see the chalk whilst still keeping yourself anchored to him.

He was definitely blushing now, his heart taunting him as it pounded against his chest.

Spencer wanted to ask you to kiss him, or at least hold his hand, but the thought of bringing attention to the unspoken connection the two of you had may ruin it stopped him from saying anything, not wanting to risk losing what he currently had in the very minor instance of gaining something more.

"You’re alright with sharing a croissant and a crêpe right? I figure it might be too much otherwise-"

Spencer nodded with a smile. “I don’t mind sharing a croissant and a crêpe with you.”

You give him a beamed smile and a nod as you leave his side to go and order, shutting down his offer to pay before he could even suggest it.

He subconsciously ran his fingers over his wrist as he waited for you, trying to compensate from the loss of your touch and the gentle warmth that accompanied it as he watched you engage in polite small talk with the cashier.

You looked so sweet. So perfect.

"let’s sit outside yeah? it’s a nice day," You retreat back towards him with a tray balanced in your hands, two mugs of hot chocolate joined with four coloured macarons and a single croissant and crêpe, carefully distributed to balance the weight as you carry it.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer nods at you softly, a wistful expression still on his face as he takes you by the elbow in order to help you carry the tray safely.

The reinstating of your previous contact brought a small flush back over his cheeks, and even through his hands were only brushing against the fabric of your shirt, it still felt oddly intimate.

The two of you walk over to a vacant table, set under a large parasol that casted the table in a comfortable shade.

Spencer took a seat across from you as you both sat down, separated by a small table in between the two of you.

Funny how a little table could do that.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Oh my god we are definitely coming back here next time we have a case down here-" You give a satisfied sigh as you wipe your fingers on a serviette, placing it inside your empty mug and pulling out your phone to check the time.

1:17.

You should get back to the station.

The thought of having to go back dampened your mood a little, and not just because it meant you now had to spend the rest of the day bent over a desk to curate a profile.

You really enjoyed spending time with Spencer like this, whether it be accompanying him to a new museum exhibit or driving him to buy his groceries so he wouldn’t have to sit behind the wheel.

It was a small highlight of your time not spent working, and you always found yourself disheartened when it was time to leave.

“We should definitely come back.” Spencer looked at you as he spoke, catching the mild change in your expression. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? Yeah- yeah i’m good,” You give him a nod and a reassuring smile as you stand from you seat with him following not long after you. “Just not exactly looking forward to going back to work,”

“Yeah I understand what you mean,” Spencer gives a small laugh, stuffing his hands back into his pockets again.

"We should do this more often you know,” You tilt your head slightly at him, the words leaving your mouth without any thought behind them. "I uh- enjoy spending time with you like this,"

“I enjoy spending time with you too,” Spencer smiled gently.

He looked at you, feeling a slight bit of courage at your confession of enjoying spending time with him one on one.

Come on Spencer, just ask them out already.

"I’m glad," You give Spencer a half-laugh, turning away from him slightly to hide the flushed nature of your cheeks from your embarrassment.

Spencer’s eyes studied you, and he felt like now might be the time. You two were still technically off work, you loved spending time together, and you’d just spent the last half an hour listening to him rant about the new book he was reading whilst the two of you drank hot chocolate and shared french pastries with each other.

You weren’t just friends. You were more than that.

At least he hoped so.

“Can I take you out… on a date?” Spencer’s voice was soft, but it carried confidence.

"A- date?" You stop walking in the middle of the street, your body re-directing any cognitive functioning to focus on computing Spencer’s question.

Spencer stopped as you did, eyes entirely trained on your expression. He couldn’t help but look at how beautiful you were right now. Your face painted with a blush and a mild look of confusion characterised through the slight furrow in your eyebrows.

“Y- yeah… do you want to go on a date with me?”

Of course it was okay if you didn’t. It wouldn’t hurt Spencer. He’d handle the rejection. Right?

"I- Yeah-" You nod quickly, a little too enthusiastically if you were to think about it logically. “Yes,”

"I’d love to go on a date with you-" You’re words are rushed and slightly muddled together as you hastily agree to his proposition, but they get the point across.

Spencer’s face lit up with a blush as you said yes.

That’s wonderful news.

A small grin spread across his face. “I’m glad…” The words slipped out without Spencer realising it, joined by a notable fluster.

He was glad.

He was absolutely thrilled about the fact you want to go on a date with him.

Spencer was so incredibly grateful that you said yes.

“Wouldn’t- I mean- We just like went out together and got food and talked and stuff- was that… a date?-“ You gesture your hand back to the bakery café the two of you had just left.

You weren’t exactly wrong, and he understood your confusion.

“I suppose it follows the motions of a date,” Spencer looked at you, overtaken by how perfectly ethereal you looked with the breeze fluttering against your shirt and a blush covering your cheeks.

“But an actual date would be much more romantic.” His words were confident, even if he was embarrassed that he was admitting to you just how much of a romantic he was underneath his façade of being uninterested in finding someone.

"So it wasn’t a date?” You raise an eyebrow slightly, fiddling with your sleeves. “Because I want to kiss you but if it wasn’t a date then I can’t because you can’t kiss someone without going on a date with them first because it breaks date etiquette-”

Spencer’s eyes widened as he listened to you ramble without taking a single breath. You wanted to kiss him?

You wanted to kiss him.

You wanted to kiss him.

Spencer was trying to keep his emotions in check as he stared at you. Your words made him tingle with excitement. “Um… you can- still kiss me if you want…?”

You shake your head with determination. “You can’t kiss someone before you’ve been on a date with them,”

Spencer looked so utterly confused.

So, you didn’t want to kiss him?

He wanted to kiss you.

“Why not? Your logic makes no sense. Why can’t kiss me?” Spencer was so utterly confused, his eyebrows knitted in a way that made you want to plant your lips between them as he tried to understand what your issue was.

"My logic makes complete sense-" You cross your arms over your chest as you gesture for the two of you to keep walking with a nod of your head.

"Everybody knows that you never kiss somebody until the end of the first date, it curses your whole future relationship otherwise,"

Spencer couldn’t help but stare at you blankly.

What he heard you say was wrong. Really wrong.

You should kiss someone whenever you want to kiss someone. Especially if they’re your crush.

But you were adamant you couldn’t kiss Spencer because of this stupid arbitrary rule.

"Well, if you’d have agreed to my judgement that our bakery stop was a date then you’d be getting a kiss," You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly, lips pressed into a straight line. "But you don’t, therefore I can’t kiss you,"

Spencer stared at you in disbelief as you spoke, before his eyes widened.

He knew what you wanted to hear, and so he gave in.

It was the only way he’d get a kiss.

“Okay okay- It was a date at the bakery I was wrong-”

He hated how desperate he sounded, but you were so beautiful, you were stunning, you were the most gorgeous person he ever met.

Spencer wanted to be with you. And you were giving him an in to finally press his lips against your perfect face.

"Are you sure?" You furrow your eyebrows at him in mock accusation, agains stopping in your tracks to stand in front of him with your eyes fixed on his face.

Spencer sighed. “I… yes. It was a date. I was just being silly…” Spencer took your hand for a moment as he spoke to you, interlacing his fingers in yours and feeling the warmth of your hands against his frigidly cold ones.

He wanted you to know that he felt a lot differently towards you compared to how he’d felt about anyone else.

You were special.

And he wanted you.

"Right you are pretty boy," You give his hand a small squeeze as you use your other to cup his face, pulling it towards you with a gentle insistence so that you could press a chaste kiss to those perfect pink lips that had just been begging you to silence them. "You were being silly,"

Spencer’s face lit up with another blush as you called him pretty boy.

Of course you thought Spencer was pretty. Not handsome or beautiful.

Pretty.

He let himself be pulled in closer as you spoke to him teasingly, telling him that he was being silly.

And then… your lips. Pressed against his with a soft pressure that he gladly returned.

That was all it took for Spencer to feel like the luckiest man on earth.

"Here’s to a successful first date," You chuckle softly as your lips part, your noses brushing as you lean back to admire the rosy tint to his cheeks and the beaming smile that accompanied it.

Spencer felt so happy. So overwhelmingly, sickeningly happy.

And so, he did a thing that he never thought he had the courage to do. He pulled you into his arms, leaning in to kiss you with so much fervour that you were relying on the strength of his hands on your waist for stability.

Spencer didn’t know when he’d get the opportunity to do this again. So he was 100% going to make the most of it.

You can’t help the smile that erupts on your face as he pulls you in again, your hands cradling his cheeks and your head tilted ever so slightly to the left as you rested your weight into his hands.

If you’d recorded this moment and told him it was a scene from a cheesy romance movie he would’ve believed you.

As the two of you reluctantly pull away due to the unfortunate human necessity of breathing, you catch a glance at the watch face on the inside of your wrist.

1:29.

“Shit- We really need to get back to the station.” Your hands fall from his face to grab one of his own, pulling him down the streets as you hurry back to the police station, mildly out of breath and still completely flustered.

“So-“ Spencer pulled a small resistance against your hands as the two of you stopped outside of the door.

“We’re going on a second date once we get home right?”

[fairyysoup]

insatiable

matters of taste part two (repost)

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson

summary: Stuck between Steve and Eddie, you start to learn the things they have in common, and a few of the things they don't.

content warnings: explicit (18+ MINORS DNI) smut, polyamorous relationship, semi-public sex, car sex, cunnilingus, nipple play, spit kink, forced orgasms, workplace sex, unprotected sex, creampie, exhibitionism, daddy kink, size kink, praise, smoking, marijuana, discussions and appreciation of scars, canon-typical violence toward the end, like one verbatim line from the show as a wink wink nudge nudge, not edited (we die like the demobat)

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

“I feel kinda bad,” you admit glumly, blinking at Eddie through the fog in the back of his van. “Steve’s not here.”

Eddie shrugs a shoulder, his eyes sparkling at you even though they’ve gone just a little bit watery and bloodshot. You both stink like weed, the cramped quarters filling up with the smoke from the joint you pass between you. The speakers from the radio in the dash are playing the local rock station, maybe a bit too loud, but Eddie’s slightly gravelly voice still goes into your ears and plants itself right between your legs. “Yeah. Why d’you feel bad about it?”

“Well… aren’t we sort of going behind his back?”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head slowly. “Only if we don’t tell him. And trust me, I plan on telling him. Harrington and I are a lot closer than you might think, sugarplum.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Your head fills with the image of him biting Steve’s ear, tugging his hair- Steve’s hand fisted in Eddie’s shirt while you go down on him. “Are you guys together?”

“Ah… sort of. We haven’t exactly had the ‘what are we’ talk, but we fool around.” Eddie offers you the burning joint in his hand, and winks as you take it. “Doesn’t mean we don’t want to include you, though. Treat you nice, take you out on dates. The both of us.”

“Is that what this is?” You splutter a kind of half-cough, half giggle, the smoke starting to make your reflexes a little fuzzy. “R’we on a date right now?”

“If you wanna be.”

You should have known that his oddly sweet offer to pick you up and drive you to work today wasn’t exactly coming from a place of wholesome intentions. For starters, he did pose the offer while letting you recover from the first time he fucked you, while Steve was busy with a customer out on the bakery floor. His hand had been stroking a little too close to your aching cunt and your head was a little too full of endorphins for you to think it through before you said okay. 

So, when he picked you up about two hours early, you were a little shocked, to say the least. You were still wearing your pajamas- an ugly pair of sweats, and a cami that absolutely did not cover everything it needed to for you to be technically decent. Your hair a complete mess, a half eaten sandwich in hand as you answered the door. 

Eddie’s eyes did a complete once-over of your body, and then laser-focused in on your pebbled nipples raised through the fabric of your cami, before he cracked a smug smile. “Get all dressed up just for me?” 

You’d asked Eddie to wait for you to put on that itchy fucking uniform dress and apron, at least, but he just waved his hand like it was beyond pointless. “Just grab it and get dressed in the car. I won’t peek at you. Scouts honor.”

Well, now the uniform dress is wadded up in a plastic shopping bag beside you, and you’re parked outside of the Radio Shack across the street and down a ways from Mimi’s Bakery. And he’s not looking at you like any fucking boy scout. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, feeling really hot and sort of uncomfortably confined in your tight cami. He’s been staring at your tits. Not trying to hide that he is in the slightest, either. And your eyes have been lingering on his tattoos. “This can be a date.”

“Good to know,” he hums, checking his watch. “But don’t you need to be getting into that little dress pretty soon?”

“You just want to look at my tits,” you grumble as you shove the joint back into his hand. 

“I do. But I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”

You gnaw on your lip. Your eyes fall to his forearm again, the cluster of bats so dark on his skin. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Eddie laughs, genuinely, his chest heaving. “Tit for tat, huh? All right, sweetheart. You asked for it.”

His hands move to the hem of his shirt. He’s not wearing his uniform either, actually- instead he’s in a weather beaten metallica shirt and dark jeans. You don’t know if he just generally waits until the last second to change into his uniform, or if he was planning on not having any clothes on by the end of this anyways. Maybe a bit of both, but you’re hesitant to ask. 

He rips his shirt over his head, wads it into a ball and throws it somewhere in the vicinity of the front seat. You’re not looking at where it lands, though. You’re looking at his scars. 

Eddie’s covered in them. Large red patches on his skin that look… sort of like they could be burn scars, but more like he got dragged under an eighteen wheeler on a paved highway and lived to tell the tale. You stare, because you have genuinely no idea what to do or say. 

“Has anyone told you, you have a really good poker face?”

You huff a laugh and rip your eyes away, although you don’t really want to. The scars don’t take away from the look of him, or from the tattoos- of which there are a lot. They even help to increase the air of danger and mystery about him that you find so alluring, and you’re more entranced by the combination of the two than anything. Your face burns furiously. “Am I that obvious?”

He grunts, but it doesn’t come off as dismissive as he usually makes it. It sounds almost shy. “You’re no actress, sweetheart. But it’s okay. I know it’s bad.”

“It’s… I mean, maybe it’s alarming. Didn’t expect it,” you tell him honestly, and you sort of reach forward to touch his chest, only stopping your hand at the last second. “But it’s not bad, babe.”

Eddie makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, like he doesn’t entirely believe you, but he reaches up and grabs your hand to pull it against his chest. His skin is hot under your touch. “Don’t bullshit me- I don’t think I could handle it if you were.”

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Eddie,” you whisper to him, moving to straddle his lap while your hand presses into his skin. “Why would I lie about that?”

“Well,” he starts, his eyes turning up toward the roof of the van, “you did say you thought my tattoos were ‘fucking dumb.’”

“That’s… okay, yeah. Fair enough.” Your fingers dig into his chest, dragging along the outline of a spider. He’s riddled with them- zombie heads and spiders and a puppet on a string. You’re absorbed in a fantasy of tracing every one of them with your tongue instead of your fingers. Sucking in a sharp breath through your nose, you take them in slowly and try to content yourself with just touching them instead of tasting them. “I didn’t really think they were dumb, though. They’re not. They’re really, really hot. I think about them all the time, I was just too chicken shit to admit it.” 

Eddie’s wide eyes bore into yours. “Hm. So I fuck you once and you change your tune?”

“Yeah. That’s usually the best way to get me to fess up, anyways. I mean, I also didn’t want to admit that I have a big ol’ crush on you, but… here we are.” Your face heats up, and your eyes fall to his hand on yours so that you can avoid his stare. “And these are really fucking hot. Believe me.” You drag your hand down his chest, and his follows. Your touch lingers over a bit of scar tissue on his lower ribs. His breath hitches when you ghost your fingers across it. 

“Between you and me,” he murmurs quietly, his voice just a little bit shaky as you lace your fingers between his, “you’re the only one besides Harrington who’s seen them.”

Your eyes snap up to his. You open your mouth to say something heartfelt, to thank him or tell him how much it means that he would trust you with something he’s obviously a bit shy about- as shy as Eddie Munson can be. But all that comes out is, “Do they hurt?”

“Not anymore.”

“How did… how…” You struggle to ask him what happened to scar him this much. Somehow, it seems so invasive. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s not-”

“I was attacked by a swarm of bats,” Eddie says flatly. “Fuckers almost ate me alive.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not. His tone is serious, but his nose crinkles just a bit and his lips curl up just at the edges, and his eyes glint in a way that says, ‘I know something you don’t.’ So you bite your lip and scrape your nails lightly along his skin. “Between you and your bats, and Steve and his KGB agents, I’m starting to think you guys are just having fun tripping me up.”

He grins. “Oh, we are. How else are we supposed to keep you coming back for more?”

“Dunno. You have some really good weed.”

“Oof. Ouch. You’re only here for the drugs, babe?” He clicks his tongue and puffs the joint before handing it to you. “Should’a known. Pretty things like you are always so hard to get.”

You smirk, tucking the joint between your lips. One last puff and it’ll be too small to be useful anymore. “Not so hard. I think you got me pretty good last night.”

Eddie hums, and his hand pets up the curve of your arm. “Yeah, I did. I could still feel you squeezing me while I was trying to get to sleep.” 

“Christ, Eddie,” you breathe. Your fingers slip down low enough to skim over the trail of hair below his navel that disappears beneath his belt. “I’m still feeling you. You fucked me hard.”

“Mm. I know.”

You feel fucking insatiable. Maybe it’s the weed, or maybe it’s the way you can’t be in the same room with him, let alone in his lap, without wanting him to just… take advantage. Arousal tickles under your skin and between your legs like an ever-present demon. 

He plucks the little stub of a joint out of your fingers and tosses it into an ashtray by the console. “I showed you mine.”

You don’t really know what to say. You can’t come up with anything, so you just… lift your arms. Straight up in the air. Staring at him, saying nothing.

Eddie looks up at you with an unreadable expression, and his eyes dip to your lips. Just for a moment, long enough for you to think that he might lean in to finally kiss you, but then as soon as the thought is there, the moment is gone and he tugs the hem of your camisole up over your head. 

All that you can think is that Eddie’s really good with his hands. Of course he is- you’d know better than anyone, after what he did last night, but somehow it still gets the better of you when he slides his palms down your vertical arms after pulling your camisole off of them, and letting his thumbs press along the curve of your cleavage to tease over your nipples. His fingertips dig into the sides of your breasts, squeezing them almost reverently. 

“Jesus.” Eddie swallows audibly over the sound of the car radio, shaking his head slowly. His eyes droop as he pets your skin and leans forward to kiss just over the sensitive peak of your breast. “You shouldn’t have hid these from me, sweetheart. Pretty baby, with her pretty little nipples teasing me all morning.”

You hum, feeling a little lightheaded at him toying with you like this. His tongue juts out to wet his lips, and you feel so exposed, trembling on top of him. His eyes are just so big and black, shining in the broad afternoon light coming in from the window behind you. 

You’re in a fucking car. Where anyone passing by could see you, parked just down the sidewalk from your job, where you have to be in… thirty minutes? Twenty? You don’t even fucking know anymore. You think you can probably deal with Mimi Callaghan’s wrath if Eddie just keeps touching you like this-

Your breath hiccups in your chest when he lets his tongue flick gently over your nipple. You feel a wreck with just the slightest touch of his hot mouth to your skin, and you’re overcome with the need to kiss him again. To just allow yourself to taste him for hours. 

He switches over, going for the other one with pursed lips and enough suction to make your toes curl in your shoes. “Question for you,” he says, much too chipper and unaffected when he pulls away almost immediately. He leaves your nipples wet and cold in the atmosphere of the van, achingly hard for him as he drags the rough pads of his thumbs over them. 

You whine petulantly at him, your nails ripping at the wall of the car behind his head. You know Eddie hears it with how he mockingly pouts his lower lip at you, tilting his head just slightly as he draws circles around the sensitive buds. “What’s the quickest you’ve ever made yourself come?”

The question takes you aback. “What?”

“On your own. No assistance,” Eddie clarifies, as if that makes the inquiry any less odd. “Start to finish. Approximate time.”

“Um. I…” You suck a breath through your teeth when he pinches one of your nipples gently, and you blurt, “Six minutes and twenty-five seconds.”

Eddie blinks, pausing the movement of his fingers. You squirm, pushing your chest into his touch, and he unconsciously resumes. “That is… so weirdly specific. How do you know that?”

“Uh.” You press your lips together tightly and hear your heartbeat in your ears. Your face feels hot for all the wrong reasons, and he’s just squinting at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “It’s uhhh… because that’s how long it takes to get halfway through the guitar solo in Stairway to Heaven?”

His face remains blank for half a second. Then, slowly, a smile stretches across his face until he’s grinning from ear to ear. “You got off to Stairway?”

You make a weak noise in the back of your throat. “You haven’t?”

“I didn’t say that.” Eddie leans forward and presses a soft kiss between your breasts, just over your heart. His hands keep up their careful flexing, his thumbs rolling gently around your nipples until you lurch your hips forward against his for some kind of relief. He smirks. “I do think it’s cute that you knew the timestamp, though. What did you do? Go through it afterwards while looking at the clock? Count the seconds?”

“It was a stopwatch,” you snarl at him. 

Eddie makes a silent ‘O’ with his mouth, winking at you as he does. “Pardon me. A stopwatch.” He sighs dramatically and releases his hold on your breasts. Your skin feels oddly chilly without the soothing warmth of his hands there, but you swallow thickly as you watch him fiddle with the electronic watch on his wrist. Under the din of the car radio, he mutters to you, “Well, I’m no Page, but I like to think I’m a pretty good guitarist. Let’s see if I can’t break his record, hm?”

“What- Eddie!” A gasp leaves your mouth as his hand wiggles under the elastic waistband of your sweats. 

“No panties today? Naughty girl,” He tuts, letting his fingers roam through your curls and trace over the wet seam of your pussy, just barely a graze but it’s enough to set you on fire. 

“You destroyed one pair already,” you point out, biting your lip as his fingers gently drag through your folds, parting them teasingly. You don’t have the heart to tell him you do have a pair in the bag with your uniform. “Didn’t feel like losing another.”

Eddie hums in acknowledgement, but he doesn’t sound too terribly interested in your reasoning. “Six minutes and twenty-five seconds, sweetheart. Better be quick, or you’re going into work feeling really needy.” The tip of his finger dips just between your folds and finds the bead of your clit, and your heart drops into your stomach. He leans forward to whisper into your ear conspiratorially, “And I’m not working today.”

The sound that leaves you is maybe less than dignified. “You’d really do that to Steve?”

“Oh, you know that I would,” Eddie murmurs darkly. His fingers curl forward, and he buries them to the knuckle in your cunt, his palm rocking against your clit with it. “And I know he’d take really good care of you, too. But I might feel a little jealous if he gets to feel you come and I don’t.”

You feel like you’ve dug your own grave, and now you have to lie in it. Eddie’s fingers are deadly quick and more precise than you could have imagined. Stroking in down to the third knuckle and then hollowing back out to trace small circles around your clit. Teasing his two fingertips just into your entrance before pulling out to tug on your clit again.  

“So wet for me already,” Eddie coos sweetly, swirling his fingers and spreading the slick around to coat your puffy outer lips. Like he’s just having fun fucking with you, and you’re eating it up all the same. “Yeah… sweet baby. Must be doing something right if you’re this soaked.”

Your fingers ache with the grip you have on the wall. The van isn’t very decked out- you’d almost chance to say it looks like he was gutting it out for a remodeling and then stopped halfway through at some point. With nowhere to comfortably put your hands, you’re holding onto a metal support beam with one, the nails of your other hand scratching into the ridge of a windowsill just above his head. 

“Eddie, please,” you whisper, your voice breathier already than you want it to be. Your hips rock against his hand, whimpering when he pushes his middle and ring into you again. He curls them forward so slowly that you feel pulled closer toward his bare chest. “Please, I’m- shit, I want you to fuck me. Right now.”

But Eddie’s not listening. Or maybe he is, but he doesn’t make it known to you- he’s too busy humming along to the fucking song playing on the radio. An anguished cry leaves you when his fingers flex unexpectedly, and it takes you a moment to recognize that he’s following the guitar riff of the song. Scissoring his fingers inside your cunt to mimic the chords, and brushing up against your g-spot as he does.

You recognize the song. It’s on one of your best friend’s mixtapes- you listened to it some months ago in the car on the way to the drive-in. It’s not a difficult tune to follow, or particularly fast, but it’s incongruous and switches up at the oddest moments. So, just when you think there’s a rhythm to his fingers, they throw you for a loop. Your face screws up, because you can’t fucking remember the name of the song while he’s acting like you’re the neck of his goddamn guitar.

Then Eddie stops humming, and starts singing. And if you weren’t already overwhelmed with everything that’s happening, the sound of his rough voice quietly following the tune would put you on fucking cloud nine. “I’m a wild child, come and love me, I want you…”

You gasp for air, and your hand plants itself on the back of his head, fingers digging into the roots of his fluffy hair and tugging excitedly. Fucking- “W.A.S.P. Wild Child. That’s it.”

Eddie snickers, tilting head as he looks up at you with an endearing smile. His free hand lifts from your hip to grip your chin. “Were you trying to place it?”

You give him a high-pitched whimper in lieu of an answer, nodding your head furiously with your eyes screwed shut. You hear him laugh, and can only imagine the cheeky grin on his face. 

“You’re so fuckin’ cute.” Eddie squeezes your cheeks, pulling on your jaw slightly. “Open.”

You let your jaw slacken, mouth wide open for him so that he can spit into it. Moaning loudly into his face, you swallow and you realize that you… really liked that. Enough that it might give you a complex if you think about it for too long. 

You can feel how wet his skin is, because of you- because of him. The soft, slick glide of his thumb against your clit, the two deep inside you sliding in and out without resistance. Your hips grind forward onto his thrusting fingers, and you come onto his hand, making that wetness even worse. A string of moans leave your mouth, unrestrained and just barely louder than the music. 

Eddie’s nose bumps yours, and then he finally kisses you. For the first time all fucking morning, after two hours of screwing around in the back of his van, he finally kisses you while you’re riding out an orgasm on his fingers. You could smack him. But instead, you just open your mouth and let him take what you’ve wanted to give him since he knocked on your door. 

“You sound so fucking sexy when you do that,” he murmurs between kisses, and he sucks on your lower lip as he pulls away. “Like a cute little pornstar.”

You sigh quietly as he shifts, letting his fingers stroke one last time through your folds as he retracts his hand and lifts his fingers to his lips. It doesn’t surprise you when he sucks your cum from them, unabashed in his hedonism. “Is that a good thing?”

“The best.” He grins at you, then lifts his watch and presses a little button on the side. “Five minutes and fifty-two seconds. Beat that, Jimmy Page.”

“Oh, I think you’re much better than Jimmy Page,” you coo at him, tiredly wrapping your arms around his neck. You peck the tip of his nose. “But the next time you get me back here with the sole intention of fucking me, you might try kissing me first?”

Eddie blushes. “I wasn’t… ah… I didn’t know if that was, um. On the table or not.”

You frown at him. “Baby, I let you fuck me in the back room of the bakery. I kissed you last night- Why the hell wouldn’t I let you kiss me now?”

“I dunno, I’ve been with a couple girls who just… didn’t want to kiss me? You didn’t make a move, and I didn’t want to assume-”

You cut him off with a long, wet kiss that makes him grunt in surprise. You don’t know who the hell wouldn’t want to kiss Eddie, but you’ve always been a romantic at heart. You stare into his eyes, holding his face and stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You kiss me any time, any where you want, Eddie Munson. In front of whoever you want. You have carte blanche.”

“Sounds… sounds good.” Eddie’s round, dark eyes blink up at you, adoration brimming in them. “I’ll kiss you all the time, then. You’ll get sick of me.”

“I’m already sick of you,” you grumble, rubbing his shoulder. “Imagine what would happen if I got really fucking annoyed with you.”

“I can’t wait.” He presses a featherlight kiss to the corner of your mouth, and then smacks your ass so hard it makes you yelp. “C’mon, you gotta get to work.”

“Yeah, about that.” You crawl off of his lap to grab your bag of clothes. “You mean to tell me you went out of your way to drive me to work, pick me up two hours early, and you’re not even scheduled today?”

“What can I say?” Eddie shrugs. “I couldn’t go twenty-four hours without seeing you. You’ve bewitched me- OW!”

You giggle as he rubs the spot on his leg that you kicked as you were tugging your sweats off. “Oops.”

Eddie grabs your ankle and yanks you toward him so that you slip down onto your back, still giggling as he clambers on top of you and starts planting kisses across your bare chest. “Oops.”

Mimi Callaghan is a friendly woman in her mid-sixties, with bright red hair that she likes to pile on top of her head like frosting on a cupcake. It makes extreme sense that she’d surround herself with baked goods as a career move. 

She’s also sharp as a tack, which is why you turn on your heels and crush up against Eddie trying to walk back out of the door when you see that she’s in the building. 

“We gotta go, Mimi’s here,” you whisper, frantically struggling to push him back. You jam your chest up against his and wiggle your arms, grasping at the cool outside air like you can grab onto the afternoon sunlight and pull yourself out of the bakery lobby. 

Eddie’s weight solidly presses you forward. “It’s fine, sweetheart-”

“She’s gonna know we were smoking,” you retort, still pushing yourself weakly against him. You’re making a scene; you can feel your coworkers’ eyes burning into the back of your skull. 

“It’s fine, you’re fine. Je-sus, would you stop.” Eddie plants his hands on your sides and physically drags you into the bakery as you hit at his back. “Hi, Mimi!” 

“Mister Munson! What are you doing here?” Mimi’s jovial voice can be heard loud and clear all the way from the kitchen. She smacks her hands on her apron, covering the green fabric in powdered sugar. “Not that I don’t like seeing your lovely face.” 

Eddie beams at your boss, and it’s like the sunlight from outside begins and ends on his face. “Just dropping this one off.” He turns you around by the shoulders, walking you around the counter and into the kitchen. Eddie kisses the crown of your head and shoves you forward so that you stop across a decorating counter from Steve. 

Steve looks up at you from under his long lashes, a knowing smirk on his pink lips. Caramel colored hair falls over his forehead, and the contrast of the bright pink uniform shirt to his tan skin is more than tempting. 

You nearly vibrate with nerves as Steve does a slow and deliberate once-over of your entire body. “Have a good morning?”

You clear your throat, but something still grates at your voice when you say, “Something like that.”

Steve simply nods, clearly trying to swallow down his smile, and then holds up a flat disc of bread. “What is this?”

“That’s our spinach and feta focaccia,” you say, watching as he roughly shakes open a bag and drops the bread into it. The bread tears through the bottom of the bag and plops loudly onto the ground. You and Steve both stare at the fallen focaccia in silent grief. 

“Wellp. Ashes to ashes,” Eddie quips, brushing a hand through your hair. His mouth touches your ear like he means to kiss you again, but he whispers, “How do you feel?”

“Like I’m gonna kick you again.” Your eyes follow the line of Steve’s body as he bends to pick up the focaccia and toss it into a nearby bin. Saliva pools on your tongue, and you try to swallow the rogue feeling of desire as quickly as it manifests. 

Insatiable. 

Eddie follows your gaze. “Looking good today, Harrington,” he says suggestively, squeezing the back of your neck as he does. “Got some new chapstick or something?”

Steve scoffs good-naturedly, picking up another focaccia and gingerly tucking it into its bag this time. He shoots Eddie a side eye. “Yeah, actually. Wanna try it?”

“You know what, I sure do-”

Steve’s hand whips into the pocket of his apron, and a tube of cherry flavored chapstick hits Eddie right between the eyes. Eddie fumbles to catch it and glares at Steve. “I was fuckin’ kidding.”

“I wasn’t.” Steve goes back to packaging bread, while Eddie grumbles under his breath and pops open the tube to apply some.

You watch him run the chapstick over his plush lips, and he catches you staring out of the corner of his eye. “Want some?”

“Yeah, sure.” You hold out your hand for him to give you the tube. 

Eddie grabs you by the chin and tilts your head up to crash his lips against yours. Saccharine cherry flavored balm bleeds into your mouth, and you falter, your hand coming up to grip the neckline of his Metallica shirt. Your face heats up, both surprised and sort of pleased that he took what you told him in the car to heart. When he pulls back, his mouth is smudged with a translucent pink shine. 

“Hm. So you guys had a really good morning,” Steve observes as you reach up to wipe the mess from around Eddie’s mouth with your thumbs. 

“Only the best for our girl,” Eddie purrs, winking at Steve once you finally let him go and very pointedly tucking Steve’s chapstick into his back pocket. “Take good care of her today?”

Steve grins, first at Eddie, and then at you. “Oh, I will.”

Eddie pats your back and turns to leave, waving at Mimi as he does. He makes it halfway out of the kitchen before her cheery voice stops him. “Before you go, Eddie, there’s free food in the back room.”

You see the baker, Andy, poke his head out of the back room, his mouth full of food. “We got hot dogs!”

“Really?” Eddie turns on his heels and makes his way toward the back room. You jump to follow closely behind, your stomach feeling suddenly hollow. You hear Steve drop what he’s doing, trailing on your heels. 

The setup in the back room isn’t what you thought it would be; some lukewarm franks under a little heat lamp, one bag of buns, miniscule toppings of pickled relish, ketchup, and mustard. Despite the miserable presentation, you’re surprised to find that almost every employee you know at the bakery is crammed in the small back room. Joey and Miranda from the morning team, obviously already clocked out, the cake decorators Clara and Bridgit, and Andy off in the corner. You and Eddie both muscle your way past Joey and go for the food with more fervor than necessary. Steve hangs back, leaning against the towers of backstock icing.

Mimi appears at the doorway with an unsettlingly bright smile on her face. “Good. Now that you’re all here, I want to have a little team meeting-”

Eddie grunts in surprise, his mouth half stuffed with food. His hot dog is already falling apart around his fingers, heaps of relish plopping messily onto a styrofoam plate. He fixes Mimi with a wide-eyed stare, and then looks at Steve with an equally helpless expression. Steve shrugs at him as if to say, ‘What do you want me to do?’

“I thought it would be nice to have a little free lunch for everybody,” Mimi says kindly. “Since we’ve also recently gotten a few new members on the team, I’m sure you’d all like to get to know each other.” She gestures at Steve and Eddie, and then looks pointedly at you beside them. “It’s… lovely to see that our closing team is already getting along so well.”

Eddie coughs, nearly choking on his food and turning away from the room with a bright crimson blush on his cheeks. 

“Eddie and I are both really happy to be here. We’re lucky to have such an… understanding trainer. We know we can be a lot to handle,” Steve says with the phoniest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie sort of side-stepping, cramming himself between Steve and the frosting buckets to get to the door. “Hey Eddie, where ya goin’?”

Eddie freezes. “I have… uh… a thing across town.”

“A thing?” Steve says incredulously.

“Really important thing,” Eddie supplements. “Have to pick up my… cat from the… vet?”

“Stay just a moment, Eddie,” Mimi says, still blocking the door to prevent him from leaving. “It’s important that I touch on a few things before you go.”

Eddie shuffles back over beside you, elbowing Steve in the side on the way. Steve whacks him on the back of the head. 

“We have a health inspection coming up, so I want everyone doing their level best to clean as much as possible,” Mimi begins. Still engrossed in your food, you take a look around the group and can tell that everyone is only really half-listening. “If the morning team can focus on cleaning their stations- Andy, the baker’s table needs to be scoured- and the evening team can focus on machinery and displays, that would be ideal. That means you as well, Steve.”

Steve holds up his hands with a confused expression. “I clean!”

“Knocking all the crumbs off of the front counter and onto the floor doesn’t count,” Mimi says flatly. “I want to see your hands looking as chapped as mine by the end of the week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Steve nods, dropping his eyes to the floor. 

“And if you closers can do something about the pastry display,” Mimi adds, looking out of the door toward the offending display case at the front of the shop. “There’s a sort of… black grease that’s built up on the back of it. Not sure how, but I need one of you to get in there and scrub that down as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Mimi,” you say around a mouthful of hot dog bun. “We’ll get on that tonight.”

“Excellent.” Mimi sighs, “Well, that’s really all. Everyone, enjoy the rest of your days. Eddie, you’re free to… pick up your cat.”

“Thank go- you, Mimi.” Eddie bats his eyelashes as he approaches the door, chucking his styrofoam plate into a bin. “You’re an absolute goddess.”

“Don’t push your luck,” Mimi chides, but steps away from the door to let him pass. As always, sharp as a tack, she adds passively, “You sure you don’t want to kiss your girl again?”

“Hm?” Eddie pauses at the door, turning to glance at you over his shoulder, like he forgot that he planted one on you right where your boss had a front row seat to see it happen. He considers it for a moment, and then cracks a smirk that makes your heart rate kick up a notch, knowing what’s about to come. “Nah. Harrington’s got her. Don’t ya, big boy?”

He’s… listen.

Listen. 

Steve is so fucking distracting, okay? It’s not like you’re trying to fuck up all your packaging, or… or put the wrong frosting on the macarons. It’s not your fault that Eddie stole your extra pair of panties before you could put them on this afternoon, so you have to feel how sticky the skin is between your thighs, and it’s fucking obnoxious. It’s not your fault that every time Steve gets close enough, he’s brushing his hand across your arm or grabbing your hips to scoot past you. Getting into your personal space, making it a goddamn nightmare to concentrate on anything.

Crouched down beside you, his shoulder nudges your leg as he digs around for a plastic top for a cake box. You know that it’s in the next cabinet over, but you don’t have the heart to tell him. You press your thighs together, trying hard to still your shaking hands as you carefully ice a macaron with the correct frosting this time. 

Steve sighs and pulls back. His hand brushes your knee as he does, and it nearly buckles out from under you. You whimper slightly in the back of your throat, clutching onto the counter for support. 

Jesus Christ. Get a fucking grip.  

“You okay?” Steve asks lightly, peering up at you from his place by your hips. He’s kind of oblivious, but also kind of not. You don’t think he’s aware of how badly his closeness is affecting you, but he is doing it in the hopes of drawing a response from you. Good plan, poor ability to assess the actual damage.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It sounds unconvincing, high and tight in your throat, but you pick up the bright pink frosting bag again and get back to work. “The lids are in the other cabinet.”

“Oh.” 

He’s such an idiot. You want to jump his bones.

You can’t stop thinking about Steve’s dick in your mouth, and how unfortunate it is that it isn’t there right now. It’s 7:30, getting dark out, and there’s just you, and him, and your fucking monstrous libido alone in the bakery. You should have known it would be like this- it seemed like Eddie was almost certain that it would be, even though he’d given you plenty of attention already.

“So,” Steve starts, his voice lilting as he leans over to grab the lids from the correct cabinet. “You and Eddie?”

He doesn’t have to go into detail for you to know what he’s asking about. The shaking in your hand subsides, for now. “Yeah. You and Eddie?” 

“Mhm, yeah, for a while now.” A pause. A breath of air, suspended over a precipice. “You and me?” 

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.” You look down at him, and he’s smiling to himself. “Okay. Good. So, we’re all on the same page?”

“Eddie laid it out for me pretty well this morning, yeah. You already talked about it?” You grin when he nods, blinking up at you through his lashes. You reach down and stroke his cheek with the knuckle of your finger. “Guess we’re both pretty crazy about you.”

Steve blushes. It’s pretty on him, you think. The pink tinge on his cheeks, his cute little eye roll as he shifts on his heels. “Eddie’s, uh… yeah, when he likes you, he goes all in. He can be pretty handsy, huh?”

“Yeah, it sort of surprised me.” You find yourself smiling too, as you look down at your work. “I like it, though. I like handsy guys.”

Steve is quiet for so long that you wonder if you’ve scared him; but then you feel the warmth of his hand wrap around your ankle. His palm slowly starts to slide up your leg, until his arm nudges your skirt out of the way. 

Your hand slips, painting your thumbnail in violent bright magenta frosting. “Steve…”

“Relax,” Steve murmurs, and his voice grounds you in your place so that you don’t have a way to run from it. His hand turns, fingers brushing up the soft skin of your inner thigh, and you fight not to spread your legs automatically. “I just want to check something.”

“Check what?” you ask, as if it isn’t painfully obvious when his hand stops, fingertips finding the sticky, wet mess at the tops of your thighs. Steve’s breath audibly hitches, and you freeze, your eyes snapping forward to the front of the bakery. 

You should really lock the door.

Steve presses his hand further upwards, and you don’t think he’s expecting to find you without any underwear- his finger dips quite suddenly between your wet folds and you both startle, you fumbling your frosting bag with a quiet gasp and him dropping his forehead to rest against your hip. 

You grind down onto his fingers without thinking, making his fingertip slip just slightly into your hot entrance. Steve groans and digs a white knuckled grip with his free hand into the edge of the counter beside you. 

“We’re gonna take a break,” Steve blurts loudly, without warning, his voice sounding hoarse and strained. 

“Uh-huh, yeah,” you agree shakily, dropping everything in your hands immediately. “We’re closing early tonight.”

“We are?”

You mean to stroke Steve’s hair when he pulls his hand away from you, but in your rush you sort of just bonk him on the head with the flat of your palm and then fucking bolt. You sprint to the front door, turn the latch on the handle and flip the cardboard sign to ‘closed.’

As you turn to make your way back to the kitchen, you glimpse the pastry case and it’s enough to almost make you pause. That’s… okay, that looks like shit. Black grease shining all over the wall behind the shelves, like someone unloaded the oil cache from the donut fryer down the back of it. Your eyes drift back to the kitchen, and find Steve leisurely untying his apron as he walks toward the back room. 

Yeah, no. Dick first. Pastry case later.

Your hands hover over the tie of your apron as you blaze through the kitchen after him. To undress, or not to undress? You’re not totally sure what the vibe is yet, but you can always-

Broad hands grab you as soon as you step through the door into the back room. You yelp as you’re pulled suddenly into a warm embrace, Steve’s arms wrapping around you and his body pressing you up against the book keeper’s desk. 

“You’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” Steve whispers, his breath touching your neck before his lips do. He grabs your thighs and hoists you up onto the desk, crowding between your knees before you can think to close them. 

His hands are everywhere. Untying your apron, answering your question for you. In your hair, tugging your head back so he can mouth at your neck without obstructions. Undoing the front of your dress so that he can grope at your bare chest. 

Handsy guys. You fucking love handsy guys. And now you have two of them. 

“Mind if I ask,” Steve mutters softly, palms sliding under your skirt, “no underwear…?”

“Eddie stole them.”

“Of fucking course.” He huffs a laugh in your ear; you can hear his eye roll with it. “Can’t say I blame him, though. I kept the ones from last night.”

You whimper high in your throat as he latches onto your lower lip, sucking it between his teeth. There’s a moment when you consider how different he is compared to Eddie; Eddie’s a little rough around the edges in just about every way, and that includes how he handles you. Not that you don’t like it, but Steve is just… gentle. Almost soft, in a way. 

Your breath hitches as his fingers coax your skirt up your legs and your wet cunt hits the cool air. Hips squirming toward him impatiently, trying to meet him in the middle, and Steve’s too busy tasting you to care. “Little needy, are we?”

“Cut the crap, Harrington, I want to fuck you so bad-” You gasp when he bites down on your lip a little bit harder.

“Such a romantic.” Steve doesn’t sound as miffed as he tries to appear, as he reaches to undo his belt. “Wanted to warm you up first, make sure it wouldn’t hurt. Guess not.”

“It won’t.” 

Steve lifts his eyes, staring levelly at you with an amused expression. The twinkling sound of his belt buckle fills the quiet air. “If you say so.”

He’s quick about it, to your relief. Which isn’t to say that he isn’t still infernally gentle, even though you wish he’d just grab you by the throat and slam into you at this point. That’s just not Steve Harrington’s style, apparently. No, his hands grab your hips and rub soothing little circles into the skin as his cock splits you open, and your nails scratch over his collar and up into his hair. 

“Fuck, Steve.” It does hurt, just a bit. That raw aching when he fills you, because you weren’t ready for it and he’s so fucking big that parts of you have to be moved out of the way to accommodate him. Your toes curl, and your mary janes pop off and scitter to the floor behind him when you wrap your legs around his waist. 

His voice low and quiet, right up against your ear, Steve gives you a small groan that tells you more about how desperate he is than his words do. “Told you. You’re so tight- think it’s too much for this little pussy.”

“N-no, it’s no-OT-” You writhe against him when he hollows out just slightly and pushes back in, getting half an inch deeper. Your hands tear at his clothes and his hair, looking for something to hold onto.  “Shitshitshit- Steve, Jesus Christ.”

Steve shushes you, cradling your body against him like he’s trying to console you while he keeps rocking himself into you. “You’re working yourself up, honey, you gotta just relax. Take a deep breath for me, baby. Deep breath, c’mon now-” 

You take a gasping breath that sort of stalls in your lungs because he’s still moving, and it hurts but it also feels so fucking good and cathartic that you’d kill him if he stopped. Steve’s arm is around your back to hold you by the neck, and his other hand has one of yours trapped in a crushing grip between your chests. He squeezes it softly with every slow push and pull he makes inside you. 

“Oh fuck oh fuck.” You’re hissing through your teeth, clawing at his back to urge him deeper and at the same time ground yourself. Each breath leaves you with a shallow, anguished moan attached, which would be embarrassing, except you’re not thinking clearly enough to sort through the muck of your emotions right now. “Don’t- don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“I’m not gonna stop,” Steve assures you, inching forward just enough to sink his cock a little further into you before drawing slowly out, giving it to you in small doses. You whine as he pushes in, and he coos with a bit of gravel in his voice, “I know, it’s a lot. You’re taking it so well.”

“Love your cock,” you mutter weakly, surprising both Steve and yourself. Where the fuck did that come from?

“I hope so,” Steve chuckles. He squeezes your hand in his comfortingly. “I’m gonna make you take all of it, I promise.”

That sounds… kind of threatening, when he puts it like that. Like a backhanded slap and then a swift kiss to the cheek. 

You like it so much. 

“Hear that?” he murmurs lightly, way too soft for the way his hand tightens on your neck. In the back of your mind you register what he’s talking about- the obnoxiously slick sound of him driving in and out of you, your cunt absolutely drowning him in your need. “You’re getting my cock all wet, babygirl. Being so good for da- me.”

Steve finally slams into you just then, and you loudly cry out his name at the feeling of him reaching the end of you. It disrupts your train of thought so thoroughly that you almost miss his little slip-up. Almost. 

As you recover you manage to reach up and take his chin in your hand. “Daddy?” 

His eyes are so dark, but he looks a little shy as you stare into his face. He blinks rapidly, cheeks flushing a deep pink. Gotcha. 

“Fuck,” Steve groans, his forehead falling to rest against yours. “Shit, don’t- you don’t have to call me that-”

“Maybe I want to,” you breathe, gasping when his hips lurch forward into yours. “I wanna be good for you, daddy.”

He growls under his breath, blunt nails scraping down your thighs. “Sounds so sweet when you say it.”

“Mm. Harder.”

Steve’s enthusiasm gives you a sort of perverse satisfaction. He hikes your knee up to his waist and buries himself inside you, his skin impacting yours and the desk thudding against the wall behind you. You whimper when he starts up a pace that has him panting against your ear. 

Your head rolls back on your shoulders, and Steve wastes no time tracing the line of it with his tongue. Half aware of what you’re doing, your hand shoots down and around his hip to grab a fistful of his ass, urging him on. He nearly snarls against your throat, hot air bursting across your skin as the arm holding you to him leaves your back and his hand slams loudly against the wall behind you. 

Steve really is a sight to behold when he loses his composure. He’s always gorgeous, of course- infuriatingly so, at times. But now your gaze is clouded with lust and your mind is stumbling while you blink your eyes open at him, and he’s so close to you with his hair falling across his brow and his lips parted as he stares directly into your face. His deep brown eyes are blown wide and black, heavy lidded, and you feel like you might burst.

“I’m gonna come,” you blurt suddenly, hands frantically scrambling up to his shoulders and clutching onto him tightly and trying to lock yourself down at the feeling. It bubbles up out of nowhere, like Steve managed to conjure it up just by looking at you.

You see a smirk break across his face just before your eyes fall shut. “So soon?”

“Yeah,” you whimper. “S’too good. You feel so good, daddy.”

“Oh my god,” he groans, but there’s a little bit of a snicker there in it. His hand skims your thigh and then you feel his thumb touch your clit, and everything whites out of existence. “You’re too perfect. Come for me.”

You don’t answer him. You just do, and it sweeps through you before you’re able to brace yourself for it. Fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulders, you cry out, louder than you mean to be but beyond the point of caring. Your legs shake, tense and release with each wave because Steve just keeps going- not speeding up or slowing down, but just remaining the steady constant in the ebb and flow. 

Steve curses lowly, his lips dragging gently over yours but not quite going all the way in for a kiss. “Just like that- get my cock nice and creamy, baby.”

Your face burns. The rest of your skin feels hot and clammy, sticking to him wherever you touch his body. There’s a whirlwind of sound going on in your head; from Steve’s deep grunts, your moans, the desk banging against the wall and his skin impacting yours, you don’t know what’s what anymore. 

You almost don’t even notice it when the phone on the wall above your head starts ringing. 

“Fuck.” Steve rears back, pissed off and rutting his hips into yours so hard that you cry out. He glances at the clock on the far wall and scoffs, “Who the hell calls this late?” before snatching the phone off the hook. 

His free hand finds your throat, pinning you back against the wall. You whimper, defenseless as Steve presses the phone to his ear. “Thank you for calling Mimi’s Bakery, this is Steve.”

For fuck’s sake.  

You feel like you’re going to combust. You’re still too sensitive from your orgasm and Steve’s hand on your throat locks you in place to hold you still while he starts fucking into you harder. Skin on skin on skin, bent backwards over the desk as his hips slam into yours and the messy patch of hair at the base of his cock grinds up against your clit. You whine loudly, and Steve’s hand just tightens that much more to silence you. 

He’s not even looking at you. Steve’s eyes have drifted off to the side, focused on whatever the person on the phone is saying. He tilts his head, gnawing on his lip and humming low in his throat while he considers whatever the question is. 

“Mmm… dunno, let me check on that for you.” Steve finally looks you directly in the eye. “Do we have cream pies tonight?”

Your brain short circuits. What the… what? He… he fucking put the selection of cream pies out himself earlier? Why would he ask you?

Then he nods downward, his eyes flickering to where he pulls back and drives his cock into you. Steve looks back up at you questioningly. 

Oh. Oh fuck.  

You nod your head quickly, your nails biting into the skin of his forearm. You don’t even second guess it. You’re so close to your second orgasm that you can taste it on the back of your tongue, and you don’t think you could handle it if he pulled out now. 

Steve grins, and you think it’s probably the prettiest thing you’ve seen all night. “Yes sir, we do. However the bakery is closed tonight, so those will be available tomorrow. Would you like me to set those aside for you? Mhm, how many?”

He goes on like that for another minute, but you’re barely listening anymore. Your cunt pulses, so wet that you can hear every slow drag of his cock before he reaches the end of you again. All your muscles lock down, your head digs back against the wall, and you come again. Hard.  

“Thank you for calling sir have a good night bye,” Steve chokes out in one long breath, and then his hand slams the phone down onto the receiver. He buckles forward over you and gasps loudly. “Holy shit, oh my god. Good girl, good fucking girl-”

And his mouth is on yours, sucking at your bottom lip as his thrusts turn sloppy. His hand leaves your throat to skim around your waist and pull your chest flush to his. He cradles you close and plants his hips against yours, stealing your breath with kisses and moaning sweetly as he comes. 

Afterwards, the room is way too fucking still and quiet. Your skin tingles, your cunt still pulsing with aftershocks as it milks his cock, but the silence makes your ears ring. You card your fingers through his hair, letting Steve sweep his tongue against yours as many times as he wants as long as it means he’ll stay this close to you for a little while. 

“That wasn’t how I thought it would be.”

He grunts, his teeth grazing your lip. “What did you have in mind?”

“Dunno.” You pause as he presses a chaste kiss to your closed lips, your eyes fluttering. “Maybe we could do it in a bed next time?”

Steve laughs at that. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers to you, his voice touched with something so genuine that it rattles you, nearly making tears prick at your eyes. You just cling to him, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to sniffle about it. 

“Thank you,” you mumble wetly into his neck. 

Steve sighs when he pulls back. His hand comes up to softly smooth your hair back as he takes in your face. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, swallowing back the lump in your throat. “Nothing. You’re just… you’re so sweet.”

He hums softly, catching a stray tear on his thumb as it falls down your cheek. To your relief, he doesn’t mock you or seem disturbed by it, he just takes it in stride. “Do you want me to… not be?”

“No, it’s- it’s a good thing, I swear-” You lean your cheek into his hand, letting him hold your face as you reel yourself in. “I’m just getting used to it, that's all.”

“Good. ‘Cuz it’s only gonna get worse from here,” Steve whispers with a gentle smile. He pets your thigh. “Feel better now?”

You grumble in the back of your throat. “The fuck’s that s’posed to mean?”

He shrugs. “You’ve been looking like you wanted to rip my clothes off since you got here.” Steve chuckles a bit when you whack him on the arm, “Only an observation, you’re not good at hiding it.”

Serves you right for thinking he was oblivious. “You guys have me fucking figured out and I’ve been with you for, like, a day.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He hisses when he takes your hip in his hand and slowly pulls out of you, leaving you whining from the emptiness. “I know, honey. Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you mutter, biting your lip when he adjusts the front of your dress and buttons it back up for you carefully. “No, you’re really wonderful. Daddy.”

Steve tilts his head and purses his lips, trying to hide the smile on his cheeks. “Wasn’t expecting you to pick up on that.”

“You’re not good at hiding it.”

Steve snickers, pulling you close to rest his forehead against yours again. He presses a few slow kisses to your lips, lingering over them like he’s trying to decide whether he really wants to go back to work or not. You’re not about to tell him to stop. 

CRASH!

You both instantly freeze, listening to the ungodly loud clatter of a million pastry boxes hitting the ground. Steve’s brows dig into a deep frown very quickly, while you put the front of his pants to rights and push yourself forward off the desk. 

“The fuck was that?”

“Why are you asking me, hot shot?” You smack him on the back, making him lurch toward the door. “If we’re being burgled, I’m the only one here not wearing pants.”

Still, you grip onto his belt and creep behind him through the door to the kitchen, peering cautiously over his shoulder. You don’t immediately see anything amiss in the bakery, except that half a display of muffins and cinnamon rolls has been knocked halfway to hell. Things are eerily quiet for a few more seconds, before something leaps up off the ground and starts flapping around the bakery lobby, snarling and snapping. 

You scream, clutching onto Steve’s middle and nearly hauling him back into the back room again. It looks like a giant flying… stingray? No, stingrays don’t have teeth. It’s like a weird, disgustingly large bat with no actual head. Like a leech with long teeth and wings. 

You vaguely hear Steve saying something, but you’re too busy trying to battle the bat in a game of who-can-screech-the-loudest. It’s only when Steve finally turns, grabbing you by the shoulders so that you can look at him, that you stop to consider what he’s saying. 

“-fire, get me something with fire, okay?”

“Fire?” You try to maintain a steady balance, keeping an eye on the thing in the bakery lobby and his face. 

“Yes, babe, fire. That hot shit that burns stuff, remember? Get me some of that.”

You nod mutely, starting to shake from adrenaline. You watch Steve pick up a giant metal rolling pin off the baker’s table, twirling the pin in his hand in a way that should not be as attractive as it is. 

You try to think of something in the bakery that creates fire- something handheld, you assume, because the only thing coming to mind is the little stove in the corner used primarily to melt chocolate and different icings. For a kitchen, not too many things in it conjure up flames at a moment's notice. 

But then you remember, on Saturdays the morning team makes crème brûlée for the brunch crowd. 

You dive for the decorators table, but you honestly have no idea where they keep the blow torches. It’s a long shot in the dark, but you just start hauling shit out of the cupboards like your life depends on it. 

It might, you think wearily. 

Over the counter, you can hear Steve scuffling with the screeching bat, and you pause long enough to glance up at what’s going on in the lobby. You manage to catch him at the exact moment that he cracks the bat with the rolling pin, knocking it across the bakery like a baseball and making it slam into the wall beside the pastry case. 

You blink down at the half empty cupboard in front of you and see the emerald green can of a blow torch, shining up at you like the light at the end of the tunnel. Your shaking hands fumble with it as you yank it out. “STEVE!” 

He turns just in time to see you hurl the blowtorch across the front counter at him. Which is probably not great in the grand scheme of safety measures, but y’know. 

He snatches the blowtorch out of the air right as the fucking bat starts writhing around again. Steve flicks it on and lights the damn thing up without a second thought, creating a blazing inferno on the bakery floor. 

It takes a second for the fire to die down, and in that time you kind of army crawl around the counter to sit and stare at the bat with wide, unblinking eyes. 

Steve says your name. You don’t respond. 

He takes a couple steps toward you, but then stops short. When you snap your eyes to him, he’s running his hand frustratedly through his hair, staring at the pastry case. 

You hesitantly inch forward on your knees and look around the side of it at what he’s fussing over. The case itself is intact, a few of the pastries themselves gone askew when, you presume, the giant ass demon bat flew out of it. But the back of it… that’s a whole other story. 

Where before there was what appeared to be just a giant, slick grease stain, now there’s a gaping hole with a glowing membrane across it. You don’t know what it is, but Steve seems to as he swears like a sailor and drops to sit on the ground next to you. 

“Bats,” you blurt out, catching Steve's attention. He turns to gaze at you, holding his head in his hands. You look at him apprehensively. “Eddie said he was attacked by bats.”

Steve is quiet for way too long, blinking at you like he’s trying to figure out what to say. Then, he nods slowly. “We need to call Eddie.”

[absolutebl]

hi!!! do you have favorite bl movies (maybe with happy endings too)?👀❤️

Top 10 BL Movies

(as of end of 2024, in no particular order)

My personal favorites will always have HEAs (or at least HFN). I don't love ambiguous endings and I hate sad ones. I'm going to include the Korean stuff that has been recut as movies, because I can.

1 Seven Days

Japan 2015

AKA Seven Days: Monday-Thursday AND Seven Days: Friday-Sunday

This is a cheat as it's 2 movies, but that's still less run time than your bog standard marvel tent pole these days, so it counts.

One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes. The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.

2 Can I Buy Your Love From A Vending Machine

AKA Sono Koi, Jihanki de Kaemasu ka? AKA Vending Machine Sabi Koi

Japan 2023

This movie is utterly adorable, impossibly awkward, and kinda old fashioned. About a cute nerdy little office worker (he's out!) who has a big'ol crush on the tall hulking vending machine guy. They fall in love. And that’s it. And it’s charming. There’s some first name eroticism (because Japan) and there's emphasis on communication (so not Japan) which turns this into an organically loving and talkative relationship. There’s a bit of an age gap and our office cutie may or may not have a muscles fetish (the hot bod, not the shellfish) because (if I’ve told you once I’ve told you 1 million times) Japan always goes kinky. And you know what, I loved it.

3 Restart After Come Back Home

AKA Risutato wa tadaima no ato de

Japan 2020

Atmospheric study in rural Japan meets complex family dynamics built on a romance framework of city boy meets country boy, grumpy/sunshine. It’s beautiful and icy sweet. Slow moving in places but ultimately worth the patience, low heat, low angst, and stunning.

4 His

Japan 2020

His is about being a grown adult and still struggling with coming out. It addresses the consequences choosing a life disingenuous to identity. Nagisa turns up on Shun’s doorstep with his precocious daughter in tow. This is a touch confusing to Shun since they were each others first love and Nagisa broke his heart. Shun has retreated from society, rejecting the world before it can reject him because without Nagisa he never had a reason to fight. Nagisa went the opposite, pretending to be something he was not, ending up with a daughter he adores and a wife who hates him. This movie is beautiful and the setting is unique and interesting but I'm not wild about the ending, it's HFN (happy for now). Honestly, I think I mostly liked this because I have a mad crush on Miyazawa Hio (Shun).

5 After Sundown

AKA Saengrawi

Thailand 2023

It's from Mandee and horror (neither really my thing), yet I liked it. It's oddly sweet and wholesome, for a ghost story. Phloeng and Rawee enter into an arranged marriage for confusing prophetic reasons. Twists of fate demand that they solve the mystery of a past that is haunting Phloeng's family and harming Rawee. Honestly, it makes no actual sense, but it's kinda historical, and very pretty, so I enjoyed it more than I should.

Korean BL that aired as shows but are cut together as movies & great

In some of these cases the movies are better than the originals, in some they are exactly the same.

6 Color Rush

2021

A unique paranormal twist elevates this classic high school drama into a pitch-perfect allegory for the queer coming out experience and one of the best BLs of all time (I will fight you on this).

7 Semantic Error

2022

The ultimate enemies to lovers, also the prettiest. Sexy older boy discovers pouty younger boy has outed him as a slacker, starts out bullying him, accidentally falls madly in love instead. Korea hits it entirely out of the Parks by doing a university BL with everything we expect from BL just done exactly right. Korea's signature quality executed perfectly with added bonus good story, great pacing, stunning visuals, and fantastic chemistry. You cannot ask for more from a BL, let alone a KBL.

8 To My Star

2021

Hwang Da Seul directing this show about a neurotic actor (actual puppy) who takes refuge with a grumpy chef resulting in sparks, cooking lessons, and LOVE! It’s is a touch quirky to get into, but utterly charming once it hits its stride. This is the ultimate grumpy/sunshine pairing plus the most appealing light-filled kitchen of our dreams. I adore this show so much. Limited use of BL tropes makes this feel more of a sweet contemporary gay romance between an actor plagued by scandal and the chef who accidentally adopts him, but the gentleness will appeal to fans of the BL genre.

9 Long Time No See

2017

This originally aired as a series but I have only ever seen it as a movie. So I'm counting it.

Catfishing assassins on either side of a turf war fall in love not knowing they are on opposite sides. Or do they? Suspenseful plot, good fight sequences, mature characters, hot sexitimes, and even hotter beating the shit out of each other and kissing while covered in blood (this came from KOREA?), plus an HEA. One of the greatest hidden gems of the BL genre.

10 Wish You: Your Melody in My Heart

2020

Set in the music industry featuring a talented singer and the pianist who falls in love with him (and his music), this is subtle and achingly adorable. High production, low heat, short run, very tame, and Korea, so all the pretty. Slow burn and lots of pining.

(source)

[rhenuvee]

Playing Animal Crossing New Horizons with Genshin Boys [Modern AU]

A/N: This is not important but I almost wrote sea bass with the characters

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Treats it like Minecraft. Farms the heck out of your island for materials, and makes his own little "base" that's bordered by fences. Has enough wood, rocks, iron nuggets, etc to supply him for a year.

Razor, Bennett, Albedo, Alhaitham, Chongyun, Gorou, Kazuha, Mika, Thoma, Tighnari, Wanderer, Xiao

Chaotic. Attacks you with a net, sends you purposely cringey notes with a smelly sea bass attached, dresses like a hot dog after telling him to dress nice for a picture, probably decorates his house like a demon summoning ritual.

Childe, Cyno (does it to make you laugh), Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Venti

Has sooo many bells... and from what?? He is your resident glucose father, always giving his bells to you to pay your debts. That 75,000 bell piano? It's yours. Really good with the Daisy Mae stonks, buys 100 turnips every time.

Alhaitham (asks you to catch a Coelacanth first), Ayato, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya

Broke. You’re the one with millions of bells. Takes so long for him to get out of the tent, and can't pay his home loans for days- but always has money for buying random things like a chair? Sometimes they have bells, but still ask you for some to annoy you. Also frequently gets scammed by Redd.

Bennett, Itto, Kaveh ("why does this feel oddly familiar..?"), Venti

Trash island. They are hoarders (honestly me). Your island's trees are still at the original random locations, along with weeds you have to pick every time, and some unknown "leaves" scattered everywhere. You say this is the reason Isabel gave your island a 2* rating but he denies it.

Bennett, Razor, Cyno, Itto, Venti

Clumsy. Always gets stung by wasps because he never takes out the net on time, falls for pitfall seed traps, and lots and lots of sea bass.

Bennett, Gorou, Itto, Kaveh

Treats it like Pokemon. Catches every single fish, bug and ocean species, completes the art gallery, every DIY. If you need something caught or made, he's your man.

Albedo, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Freminet, Kazuha, Mika, Razor, Heizou, Thoma, Tighnari

Wholesome af. This one gifts you sweet letters with nice gifts, aw. Plants lots of flowers outside your houses. Always gives you things you need. Probably decorated a small little space your you two, and gives the villagers nice gifts too.

Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Freminet, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Mika, Thoma, Venti

Doesn't really play video games... but he knows you like it so he tries to understand it. He's like a tourist, following you around, occasionally getting sidetracked by random things such as villagers. He doesn't know about the mailing system (yet) so he drops off gifts for you in front of your house.

Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Diluc, Gorou, Kazuha, Mika, Razor, Thoma, Xiao, Zhongli

Villager drama enthusiast (but chaotic). You tell him about your island and the personalities of your villagers. He goes a step further by making up gossip like "_____ cannot be neighbours with _____ because he cheated on her with _____!"

Childe, Kaeya, Kaveh, Lyney, Heizou, Venti, Xingqiu

The artist. Takes Animal Crossing very seriously. Has only the best clothes and furniture, sometimes making his own custom designs. Terraformed and decorated your island to a T, and takes cute pictures with you in the museum's aquarium, fireworks festival, etc.

Kaveh, Kaeya, Kazuha, Lyney, Venti

The competitive one. Originally he thought Animal Crossing was just a cutesy game. Once you introduce him to it, it doesn't take long for him to complain about Tom Nook being a capitalist and struggling to pay his loans and complete the museum. You offer to help but he insists on doing it himself.

Itto, Tighnari, Wanderer, Kaveh

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