#you can't be picky like this white baby

[neosatsuma]

my boss gave me a handful of single-serving cat treat goop tubes, like it's like go-gurt but meat goop, and today when I offered Xiaomian her standard 78-cent wet food treat she DECLINED. DECLINED, I say. She sat back and looked at me plaintively, then sniffed my hand and sniffed her dish and sat back again, then nosed around me in a circle, so I went in and got a meat tube and she was like "THERE'S my treat 😌" STARVING FERAL STREET URCHIN DEVELOPS PREFERENCES, MORE AT 11

[saturngas]

sloppy head while watching tv

[🪐] you give your boyfriend a sloppy blowjob just because

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

genre: smut

warnings: established relationship; size kink; a little bit of oral fixation; dirty talk; ball play; me dedicating two paragraphs to describing this man's pretty cock;

word count: 2.3k

..

beaming light came from the tv, giving a cozy setting to the living room. your boyfriend was wearing his pitch black glasses since his very sensitive eyes would be burning from the radiance.

your legs were sprawled out and tangled with satoru´s on the cushiony lovesac couch, you on top of his strong body. heavy, strong arms were wrapped around your waist while one of his large hands was stroking the exposed skin of your low back. your head rested on his hard chest while his chin laid on top of your head, your soft locks tickling his jawline.

the movie was once interesting, until a scene where the main male character was stripping off his clothes to start his training arc made you a bit warm in the inside. the actor wasn't your celebrity crush or anything in particular, but seeing his strong built body kind of reminded you of the godlike boyfriend you had beneath you.

after said scene, you couldn't keep your hands off satoru´s body. and of course he appreciated all your undivided attention on him, humming at every given touch. satoru even felt relived that actor knocked some sense into you so you would touch him. the way he would always be touch starved with you is indescribable.

your eyes were on the tv but your mind was getting high from the mere touch of your hands on satoru´s warm skin underneath his oversized sweater. hard mountains of pecs adorning his chest while strong abs would flex at your touch. he looked so good the moment he stepped out of the bathroom after a shower with his casual clothes already on.

his black uniform complemented his pale skin and snowy hair so well, along with the black blindfold, but when he changed for casual clothing, you could feel heat rushing to your core. being his girlfriend granted these heavenly views whenever you would be at home or going out for a date. satoru liked looking good. he was one for fashion. he had never mentioned something about it to you, but you knew he was picky with his outfits, always wanting everything to match and make out a nice looking aesthetic. he once was so troubled a new pair of navy blue pants didn't suit with a stylish jacket he already owned.

you would always tell him he looked handsome as well. and oh how flustered he would get. even after years of being together, he wasn't really used to your compliments. he loved your words of affirmation. even though satoru loved talking so high about himself—he was very aware of the man he was—, his cheeks would burn at any given praised from anyone, especially you.

one of your hands started exploring his back muscles while the other stayed on the front, roaming through his well-built abs. a single finger tracing his linea alba between his abs until stopping at the hem of his sweatpants. you heard the white haired man's breath sharpen at your sudden stop, the hand stroking at your lower back aiming to your bum; long fingers tracing the outline of your ass over your leggings.

still your hands wouldn't stop teasing his sensitive skin, his confirmations to keep going being his low hums buzzing from his chest. your smile turned into a smirk the moment you heard a whimper coming from his parted lips as your hand finally trespassed his sweatpants and underwear, going for the big prize. his hand grabbed a handful of your ass while his free hand went to your hair, caressing your scalp.

"oh baby..." he whimpered as your delicate fingers wrapped around his hardening cock. "don't start something you can't finish." there he was with his snarky comments even when he was in the lower position. you looked up to see his blushing face. rosy lips parted slightly to let out short hot breaths while his forehead was glittering with fresh sweat.

the hand that was previously on his back flew to his face to take of his rectangular glasses, tossing them somewhere in the room. his baby blue eyes were half lidded, a dark blue molding in the depths of his irises, a signal of his growing lust for you.

"it's okay, my angel boy," one hand stroking up and down his large cock as the other caressed lovingly the side of his face. "im sure I'll finish this." you said smugly, turning your boyfriend on even more. his dick twitched at your words and that was your cue to move your hand quicker, pressing lightly at his head, making satoru let out a loud moan, gripping your ass tighter this time.

your lips collapsed with his in a passionate kiss. your tongues danced desperately at the intense feeling of arousal invading your bodies. satoru hummed in the kiss, sending vibrations down your throat. his wet tongue explored the insides of your mouth while your hand stroked him vigorously, his gooey pre-cum coating your entire hand. satoru couldn't stop kissing you, devouring your mouth with his own. heat driving his primal instincts to the limit.

you broke the kiss to place brief pecks down his neck, stopping slightly only to nibble at the pale skin. a sudden sense of possessiveness traveled up your body all the way to your mouth, leaving wet red marks on his collarbones. you raised his sweatshirt to tickle his nipples with your lips, sucking at them. your tongue danced desperately around his hardened bud while the hand that was on his pretty face moved to keep wandering off his strong body. the tall man moaned quietly while tightening his hold in your nape and ass. your lips left his titties with a loud pop, admiring your work in the form of rosy and bruised nipples. your mouth then proceeded to trace wet kisses down his chest and torso, sucking at the skin of his abs. oh how you loved them.

the hand showering his cock with attention left its place to quickly disregard of his pants and boxers, only lowering them enough to give yourself great access to his beautiful cock and heavy balls.

time was not wasted as you hold his long cock from the base. goodness. how you loved this pretty cock. satoru was truly blessed by the gods with such attractive physique, he had nothing to feel self-conscious about. his dick was the same tone as his skin; his head being noticeably rosier, almost mimicking the color of his pretty lips. you admired his long member, your eyes tracing each vein, accentuating on a particular one that ran from his pretty base to his head. you could've swear you have felt that exact vein caressing your wet walls when your boyfriend would thrust into you slowly enough to feel every inch of him. you pussy clenched around nothing at the thought.

his corpus spongiosum only made his cock appear thicker than it already was. his head glistened as you smeared the dripping precum around it. hungry gaze now at his large balls, which seemed to be twitching with the forming semen that was preparing to be shot at your touch.

your mouth was salivating at the mere sight of the pretty cock in front of you. your hands looked so small when they grabbed his thick base.

"my goodness, toru," you almost moaned. "never getting tired of this big cock." you sent him a playful wink, which he responded with a groan and a gentle tug at your hair. your hand moved painfully slowly up and down his long cock.

"yeah?" he gulped breathlessly, lustful eyes glaring down at you. "since you like it so much, you should wrap that pretty little mouth of yours around it and suck it dry." oh. his dirty talk did wonders to you, even now where you literally had him wrapped around your fingers. your core started to burn at just his lewd words, feeling your panties get sticky from your arousal.

"you want me to do that, baby?" he nodded eagerly. "it's okay, toru, use your big boy words." you said as you stopped deliberately at the top of his thick cock, squeezing shamelessly at head. a sea of precum sprouted from his hole.

oh how he loved you when you were like this. you felt his cock throb and grow impossibly harder at your words. a large palm hugged the side of your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip as it pressed against your lips. you parted them slightly only to give full entrance to his thick digit. low hums coming from your throat inviting him to push his thumb further into your mouth as you started sucking it, your spit coating his wrist. wide eyes looked up at him.

"yeah just like that. want you to suck my cock the way you're sucking my thumb," satoru groaned. you hollowed your cheeks around his thick digit, making him moan out loud. his burly body was adorned with glistening skin from the hot sweat framing every inch of his body.

you released his finger with a loud pop. satoru coated your lips with your own saliva using his wet thumb. he brought his hand to his face to taste you himself, sucking deliciously at his own thumb.

the sight made you salivate even more, being more than ready to take the long thick cock in front of you once and for all. you pumped him a few times before moving your lips closer to his fat head. precum being used as lipgloss as you rubbed his head against your lips. satoru almost let out a pornographic moan at the view, he loved it when you were freaky like that.

bliss clouded satoru's mind once you wrapped your pretty lips around his shaft. your mouth achingly punctured around his size. even though you have already taken him multiple times before, your holes still had to adjust to his exquisite width. you took him as far as you could, relaxing your throat muscles to get more of his lengths.

still, several inches of him were waiting for your warm mouth, so you curl your fingers around him. you set a steady rhythm where your bobbed your head up and down following the motion of your hand. his hips couldn't help but jerk up at the feeling of warmth enveloping him.

"oh... yeah... j-just like that, ba-byy," satoru cried hopelessly at your erotic movements. your hot mouth driving him crazy.

once your throat finally bottomed out, you sloppily took a couple of more inches down. satoru banged his head against the backrest and howled loudly. he was being very vocal.

"oh my sweet girl..." a long whine left his lips when you hollowed your cheeks around his length. "y-you are be-being so... so good t-to me..." his voice shivered as his hand went back to your face, caressing lovingly your hot cheeks.

you continued sucking him messily, the accumulating saliva dropping down his long length and down your chin, meeting his thighs and balls below. the hand that was not busy with his cock caught his heavy balls in a soothing massage, rubbing them and playing with them as if there were a pair of marbles.

"ahh~ oh~~ y-you are so... oh... pretty with that big... ahh... cock stretching your p-pretty lips." he couldn't stop moaning with an open mouht, being noisy as hell. you knew you were doing a great job when satoru was being uncontrollably talkative.

the tv light framed your silhouette in such a sensual way it made satoru roll his azure eyes to the back of his head. your head never ceasing the bouncing on his cock. you felt him throbbing when you hummed once his tip was deeply pressing down your throat, tickling at your uvula and targeting the gag reflexes you manually turned off.

his balls started twitching and your boyfriend became even more vocal, a set of loud cries and whimpers harmonizing your ears. it served as an indicator he was very close to his release. you continued humming around him until you felt something snapped.

satoru grabbed a handful of your hair to guide your mouth even deeper down his shaft. tears prickled at your eyes when you took all of him, gagging nosily as his white pubes tickled your nose, your spit creating a shiny coat around his length.

"come on, pretty girl..." he groaned, now using both hands to push your head further down. "take that cock, I k-know you can." you looked up at him glossy eyes, making satoru shiver in his place, letting out a growl. his hips thrusted into your face, satoru unable to control his movements, while his abs flexed along his biceps. you had one hand on his muscular thigh supporting yourself from the applied force, and the other continuing to play with his balls.

a teardrop cascaded down your rosy cheeks as your remaining oxygen was consuming quickly. you whorled his balls and squeezed them hardly. that was all it took for satoru to cum all over your mouth.

pure ecstasy filled his entire being, leaving his body trembling and releasing hot creamy liquid from his aching cock.

"ahh! ohh~ baby..." he cried the loudest as his arms lost their force on you to let you breathe and his hips ceased their furious thrusts. your mouth still agape panting harshly as warm spills of cum decorated your wet insides. your hand stroke him vigorously, urging him to finish his white leaking in your mouth. his hips jolt at his finishing release as he finally came from his high.

"show me, please," he begged as he tapped gently at your cheek. you swallowed his cum vulgarly, then stuck out your clean tongue. "that's my sweet girl." his smirk made you blush like crazy. you abandoned his softening cock after giving it a tiny kiss and climbed up to him, encircling your arms around his neck. "thank you so much, baby."

"you are so welcome, toru, but now you gotta take care of me."

[mytaiyakeylover]

—𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

—ft: seishiro nagi x gn!reader, sae itoshi x gn!reader

—warnings: none, just some cursing on sae’s part.

𝚜𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚒

seishiro is so lazy. the only time he ever decides to eat is whenever you agree to spoon-feed him. this boy is such a big baby, like, omg! he can't literally do anything without needing you to be there 25/8. and even then, he's not going to do much unless you put in just as much effort (if not more). don’t be mad! he just really enjoys being with you, and your presence is truly the only thing that can make this baby boy at least somewhat interested in whatever it is that you are doing. even in life-threatening situations like starvation.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Reo furrowed his eyebrows as he watched the white haired boy still very much occupied with the game in his hands. Seishiro hadn’t even glanced at his plate, let alone touched it.

“Come on, Nagi!” The boy exclaimed, his purple-colored eyes glaring at Nagi with a slight hint of annoyance. "We have practice today. You have to eat at least something," he added, feeling his left eyebrow twitch at the other’s response.

“But it’s such a hassle,” he mumbled, grayish eyes sparing one single glance at the food on his plate before going back to his game. The slightly shorter boy huffed at that. Sometimes he just couldn’t help but feel like he’s so done with this guy. Seishiro wasn’t exactly making things easier for him either, but he guessed it was a part of his charm.

Sighing dramatically, the boy with purple hair suddenly lifted himself from his seat and leaned slightly forward over the table. He took the other boy's knife and fork before cutting a piece of meat. However, it wasn't until a few seconds had passed that Seishiro finally acknowledged the food presented before him.

“Let me feed you, if you're going to continue being such a baby,” a pregnant pause soon followed as Reo muttered those words. Yet, instead of receiving the response that he’d been hoping for, it was one that almost made him scream at the top of his lungs.

“I want (Y/n)-chan to feed me.”

“Well, (Y/n)-chan is not here!”

𝚜𝚊𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚜𝚑𝚒

this arrogant boy can’t physically stomach any food that has not been cooked by you and you alone. i swear! this has never been an issue before, until sae met you. now, he can't even distinguish between luxurious dishes and the ones that we ordinary humans eat. in his opinion, they all fall into the category of “peasant foods” and he will fr glare eye daggers at anyone who even dares to say otherwise.

“What the fuck is this?”

Ryusei stifled a laugh as he heard the boy from his right. His pink eyes observed the midfielder in amusement as the other boy stared at the food presented before him with nothing but pure disdain. The blonde and pink haired boy didn’t want to admit it, but a part of him was quite surprised as he thought those rumors about Sae being an abnormally picky eater were absolute bullshit.

Now it seemed they were not, because never had he ever seen the boy look at something with that much disgust. Not even at Ryusei himself.

“Something wrong?” The horny demon had the audacity to smirk as he feigned obliviousness. Sae narrowed his eyes dangerously at the other boy, right eyebrow twitching in annoyance. Sighing at Ryusei’s dumb antics, the reddish-brown haired boy pinched the bridge of his nose before sending the aforementioned an unimpressed look.

“I said: What the fuck is this?”

A sudden gasp escaped the tanned boy’s lips as he sent the other a look of bewilderment. “How can you not recognize the cooking of your oh so beloved s/o?”

“You’re telling me that (Y/n) was the one who made this disgusting, repulsive, nauseating, stomach-churning thing called food?”

There was a moment of silence, tension growing thicker by each passing second. The stare down between pink and teal so intense that random passers-by were too afraid to get caught in the crossfire to as much as walk past them.

However, as soon as the tension appeared, it quickly dissipated. Ryusei's expression exuded nothing but sheer brattiness, and Sae felt a strong headache coming on, anticipating where this was headed.

“Y’know, what you said just now really hurt my ego.”

[abiiors]

persephone - matty x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this is kinda loosely based on the myth of persephone and also this is just one interpretation of it, obv several exists in the media :) and like matty's barely hades lmao, this is mostly just the connection of persephone, demeter and spring ♡ cw: this contains themes of parental neglect, dysfunctional families, emotional abuse/neglect and alcoholism, and they're very much PRESENT and DETAILED. this isn't angst but it's def bittersweet (emphasis on the bitter whoops) wc: 5.1k

the first word she learns is “mama”. 

she has a faint memory of this—a woman with shining brown hair, smiling and cheering at her. everything is blurred around the edges and filtered in through a haze. everything has a foggy white quality to it but the woman’s eyes are crystal clear and looking at her, focused solely on her. she has a memory of others laughing and clapping along, encouraging her to say the word again and again. 

mama.

the brown haired woman looks tired—she’s young and, looking back, barely even an adult. but the woman smiles at her and coos along. “mama,” the woman says in an exaggerated baby voice and points to herself. 

“mama,” she babbles again at the woman she now recognises as her mother. the woman gives her a bland smile, playing with her almost absently. the woman even lets her grab onto her fingers and bite on them—not that it counts much as biting, she barely has teeth at this point. 

the next memory she has is of an older man with a freckled happy face and salt-n-pepper hair. he throws her up in the air and catches her until she’s giggling and breathless and light as air. he's often at their dining table, peeling pomegranates.

mama says she can't eat them yet—they're of course a choking hazard for a baby her age. but the old man peals it for mama, because mama looks happy when she sits next to him and pops the seeds into her mouth, sighing at the sweetness.

“these are delicious, daddy,” mama says to him and he smiles at mama with all the tenderness in the world.

when mama needs a break from her, he takes her to the nearby pond, and lets her touch leaves and rocks. he points at the tiny things in the water and says a word she barely recognises. 

fishies.

he clicks his tongue and waits for her to imitate the word, but she only claps her hands and says “mama” again. 

the man laughs. “let’s get you home to mama then.”

the younger woman gets mad at him when they get home though. mama grabs all the treasure—their entire day’s hard work—and puts it away somewhere where she can never reach it again. 

the man grumbles about it too but she’s far too young yet to understand words and tone, much less full blown fights. all she knows is a distinct sharp feeling of fear when mama snatches her away from the old man’s hands and puts her away in a room alone. 

there are white bars around her that she can’t climb, even though she cries and cries and screams for mama. even when a pungent smell fills the room and she feels uncomfortable wetness in her onesie. 

but mama doesn’t come. and the old man’s voice can’t reach her anymore. there’s only the sound of her cries and an eerie music box lullaby that plays on repeat as if it would ever be enough to pacify her.

mama doesn’t come for hours. 

years later, she’d know why mama can’t be bothered. 

the last time she calls her mother “mama” is when she’s seven years old. 

it’s rained all night and the backyard is wet and muddy. mama grimaces the moment she looks out the window but for a seven year old girl, it’s the most fun thing to ever exist. mama makes a sound of disgust when she runs outside, whooping with joy and slipping and sliding in the mud. 

all she wishes for is a companion now—a sibling or a dog or a cat, she’s not picky. a friend works too, but she’s not entirely sure where someone gets those. 

“if you get mud on my carpets, i swear!” mama shakes her fist from the back door but she can’t care less.  

she’s drenched in mud and having way more fun than she’s had in days. so much so that she doesn’t even realise when mama shakes her head and goes back inside. 

the winter chill is almost gone, there’s even a few little saplings sprouting from the ground and she can’t wait for the whole backyard to be filled with weird little weeds and wallflowers. she can’t wait until it’s warm enough to sit outside in the afternoons and make her little witchy potions from mud and weeds and flowers and see if any butterflies would be curious enough to land near her. (or maybe even on her like they do in the movies she’s seen!) 

she forgets the movies for a moment, though. today is the best day a girl could have. 

her grampy—her grandpa—is supposed to visit too, and she knows he’s going to bring treats; sweet honey from the hive on their farm or tiny red strawberries that dribble juice down her chin. she knows he’ll sit in their kitchen and peel her a pomegranate (she can eat those now!) and tell her about the new calf on the farm. (she’s asked this story twice now but it only gets better each time) it’s all so exciting that she even forgets about her aversion to the kitchen for a bit, forgets how a pit opens in her stomach every time she has to be in the kitchen with mama. 

she can’t wait for the after, but right now she runs through her backyard again, whooping and cheering and smiling. 

she’s slipping and slipping, just like before. the fence comes closer, her little mind tries to calculate the distance, her feet try to slow down but the mud’s grown too slippery and she just can’t stop, can’t put her arms up in time. 

her jaw collides with the fence with a sickening crunch. pain flares in her mouth along with the sharp coppery taste of blood. it almost makes her gag and she tries to spit it out. something white falls on the ground, covered in blood—her first tooth, the one that’s been loosening for days. 

she stays curled on the ground, covered in mud, sobbing and spitting out more blood until her saliva runs clear, then she somehow shuffles inside, hoping mama would have a magic fix. 

mama’s eyes widen the moment she walks in, dried mud crusted around her feet, blood on her chin.

“what the fuck?!” mama yells, the glass in her hand jostles dangerously and the dark liquid inside almost splashes out. mama’s words also have an unnerving, slurred quality to them but she’s too much in pain to care. 

“what’s wrong with you?!” mama screeches again and gets up. through tears, she manages to splutter out what happened. she shows mama the tooth, (girls in school have told her about the tooth fairy) but mama only smacks her hand away. 

“i told you not to get mud on my carpets. who’s going to clean them huh? not you, you’re useless. you’re all useless.”

more tears fall on her cheeks and she looks at mama, horrified. but mama slams the glass hard enough on the table that a crack goes through it. she’s worried mama’s going to yell at her more, but mama only yanks the mop from the corner and waits for her to move out the way. 

she takes the hint, grateful it didn’t get worse. she tries not to get the mud onto anything else but a little gets on the bathroom tiles anyway. 

under the hot water, she finally lets her sobs free and scrubs her little body until the skin is all red and raw and stings from the temperature of the water. until each stream of the showerhead feels like a bb bullet. 

then she gets on her hands and knees and scrubs the bathroom floor clean, occasionally flicking her tongue over the now-empty spot where the tooth used to be. it tastes vaguely salty, and it still aches but not as much, definitely nothing in comparison to her jaw which is turning a nasty shade of purple. her tooth’s still safe on the counter, though—free of blood and mud now. gleaming white. 

at least that’s the saving grace of the day. at least she’ll get a visit from the tooth fairy. 

grampy cancels his visit—his knees hurt, mama says—but she tries not to be miffed about it. she’ll make sure to get grampy something nice with the money from the tooth fairy. 

that night she gingerly places the tooth on the bed, carefully places the pillow on top so that the tooth is protected from all sides. nice and snug. 

then she closes her eyes, dreaming of tiny fluttering wings and shiny pennies. but the tooth fairy never visits at all. 

her mum ages rapidly in a decade. by the time she’s seventeen, her mum’s already gone grey—unravelling at the seams, fraying with each passing day. not that anyone’s seen her mum in days. or months even. her mum’s not coherent enough to hang out with people most of the time. 

she’s started spending less and less time at home. it helps to have a part time job on top of school—a place that delivers chinese food. a couple guys from her school work there too, not that she really knows a lot of them. except one. 

matty. 

he’s the one person she’s ever considered a friend. 

the one person who’s been worthy of that title. 

matty’s all casual smiles and laughs—he flirts shamelessly and kisses people on the cheeks when he gets drunk. he offers her fags and spliffs even though she always denies them. he nicks leftover chinese so they can eat it in his car, giggling and laughing, way prouder of their heist than they should be. 

the food tastes better when she’s with him. everything’s better when she’s with him—even the shitty, off-brand beer he keeps buying. with him it tastes like expensive champagne. not that she knows what champagne tastes like to begin with, but she imagines the bubbles settling on her tongue feel like his laugh spilling from his lips. she imagines it tastes like the sparkle in his eyes.

matty looks at her differently too—she’s not stupid, she knows what interest looks like. 

she’s been the object of fascination since she turned thirteen and developed boobs seemingly overnight. she shies away from attention most of the time—wears t-shirts twice her size, keeps her hair a bland brown. she barely even looks at boys or men who tell her she looks mature for her age. but when matty looks at her, it’s different. 

when matty looks at her, she wants to be seen. 

“you sure it’s okay for us to be out so late?” he asks one night when they’re sat in his car. the world around them has already gone quiet—it is a school night after all, she should be in bed too. but she sees the cigarette dangling loosely between his lips and for a second she forgets to respond. matty quirks and eyebrow and she realises she’s been staring at his mouth. 

“my mum won’t mind.” her response is a bit curt, but she leaves it at that. there’s no need to mention that her mum’s probably drowning in wine by now, tripping and spilling the liquid onto floors and sofas and carpet. 

“she must be chill,” matty hums to himself and takes a drag of his cigarette. she watches him hold it into his lungs, some of it escapes through his nose and curls around his face. 

she keeps quiet, unwilling to get into that topic of conversation. 

“i’m thinking of dropping out,” matty says quietly once the cigarette turns into a tiny stub. his voice is carefully neutral, monotonous. she whirls to look at him, jaw practically dropping to the (dirty) floor of his car. matty stares straight ahead, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, but the tension in his shoulders gives him away. 

images flash in front of her—walking the school corridors alone, eating lunch alone, doing her homework alone. working at her job alone. 

alone, alone, alone. no one but her mum around her again. that wretched fucking woman occupying every atom of her existence.

“did you h—”

“i heard you.” her voice has gone quiet now but there’s an edge to it that doesn’t go unnoticed by matty. 

“and?”

“and what? if i said no, would that convince you to stay?”

she doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, so bitter. certainly not so selfish. but an ugly feeling bubbles up so deep inside her that all the excitement from before just dies—all the butterflies from just a moment ago, now dead and rotten, making her feel nauseous. 

“no but—”

“i don’t want to tell you why it’s irresponsible, matty. frankly, i don’t know if i believe that myself but… it’s… it’s big.”

his face falls further and further the more she speaks. with each word she wants to press a hand to her mouth, wrap it around her throat so it would strangle everything else that’s about to come out. with every word she wants him to tell her to just shut the fuck up, that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. but matty only looks at her and a different sort of quiet spreads around the car. 

“you think this… this thing you’ve got going on. music. you think that’s enough?! you play for fucking retirement homes, matty! you play for old people who probably won’t even remember what they heard twenty minutes later. and you want to–what? you want to leave your education incomplete? you want to leave a-levels and school and your job? you just want to…leave?”

which is the real problem. 

he gets the luxury of leaving. 

she gets the misery of staying. 

“thanks,” he says dryly, trying to roll his eyes. she catches the extra shine they now have, she catches the way his throat bobs. and suddenly the car is so stifling she can’t stand it anymore—can’t stand the taste of the nasty, cheap beer and the too-salty, too-greasy chinese they’re eating and she can’t stand the cliche, indie rock music playing at low volume. 

she can’t stand him anymore. 

“i need to go,” she says curtly, wiping her hands on her jeans and already halfway out the door when matty grabs her wrist. 

“wait—”

“what.”

“n-nothing.” it’s the first time she’s heard him stutter, first time he’s ever said something without sounding completely sure of himself. “let me just drop you home.”

it’s also the first time he’s offered to do that. 

“i have my bike.” besides there’s no need for you to see the state of the house right now, no need to come across that belligerent woman in case she’s still conscious. 

“it’s late.”

she can’t really argue with that logic. it is almost 11 at night and she might not live in a very shady neighbourhood but it’s still not the safest at this time of the night. still, she doesn’t want matty driving her around and dropping her home. that feels too vulnerable. besides, she just wants to be away from him.

he’s leaving anyway, she might as well start practising that from now on. 

“i’ll text you when you get home,” she mumbles and forces her wrist out of his hand. 

she’s out of the car and slamming the door shut before he can even protest. she’s marching across the empty road and to her bike before the absence of his warmth registers, before her body realises that she can no longer feel his skin against hers. 

before she really has a chance to let anything sink in. 

matty honks and she hisses. 

“what!”

“i’m following you home.” and then the little shit rolls up the window. 

she has half a mind to stubbornly wait him out, see how long he stays if she just refused to move but that’s a stupid plan. like it or not, it’s happening. he’s following her home. 

like it or not, she’s going to have to let him. 

“i’ll only accept your apology on one condition.”

it’s two days later that they’re back in his car—her with a guilty conscience, matty with a smug smile. 

“ugh, if you’re about to be a boy about it!”

“you haven’t even heard me out yet!”

the pit in her stomach shifts, the hollow cavity catching in her throat until she has to forcefully clear her throat and blink rapidly. it’s not that she’s completely forgiven him for wanting to leave, she hasn’t completely given up on that yet either. but she realises the way she went about it was perhaps…a bit shitty (okay it was definitely a lot shitty) 

“spring dance”

“what?!”

the words jerk her out of her thoughts so violently that she almost forget about everything else for a second. the spring fucking dance. 

matty healy, the boy who nicks chinese food and drinks cheap beer and wears ripped, skinny jeans wants to go to the spring dance. 

“right don’t look at me like i’ve asked you out to a strip club—”

“that’d be more in character—”

“oi! just… let me speak!”

and so she shuts up, puts her hands under her thighs so she won’t impulsively chew on her nails while her crush is…trying to ask her out. 

matty rolls his eyes at her and the fond smile on his face takes her breath away. 

“i want to do it. i want one last cheesy school experience before i…” he trails off, maybe not wanting to finish that sentence for her sake. or maybe because it affects him more than she thinks. “and i want to do it with you.”

“me? ooh like i’m special or something.” she tries for it to be teasing and playful, but the words come out sounding so hopeful that it knocks the breath out of her. 

“don’t pretend,” matty’s voice goes all quiet then. serious too, and suddenly he can’t meet her eyes. “don’t pretend like you don’t see it.”

“see what…”

there’s a lot in her life that she pretends not to see—half the things at home, sometimes her failing marks, sometimes the way other people look at her and whisper. but he is the one person she can’t pretend with. can’t pretend to not see the way he looks at her and acts around her. can’t pretend to not notice the way his touches linger and his smiles last longer. 

even now, she can’t pretend like he’s not looking right at her lips, leaning in a smidge at a time. wishing she’d close the gap. 

involuntarily, her eyes flutter shut. anticipating. 

she wants to feel it so fucking bad—his hands on her waist, his fingers on her skin. she wants to feel his faint stubble against the palm of her hand, his lips on hers. most of all she just wants to feel him close, to feel his breath on her skin. 

matty jerks away and a loud horn of a car breaks the spell. 

“fucking dicks!” matty rolls the window down and yells at the retreating figure of teenagers in a car, one of them even flips him off and next to him she seethes. 

fuck this, fuck everything. why can’t she just have nice things. 

why must someone come and ruin it every time. 

it takes them both a minute to breathe and settle down and meet each other’s eyes again. even then there’s a slight pink tinge on his face that makes him look adorable. 

“sorry about that…” matty mumbles and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “so…spring dance?”

“i’d love that.”

she hopes the smile she gives him is genuine. she hopes he sees it plain and simple all over her face—all the words she hasn’t said and cannot say. 

matty smiles wide. “then i forgive you.”

and it’s like a weight gets lifted off her chest. 

“you look pretty,” her mum’s eyes roam over her body, eyeing her from head to toe, flicking over certain places again and again until she almost feels naked—like the blush pink fabric doesn’t even exist. like her mum sees right through her. 

years of this has taught her that it’s not a compliment. if anything, it’s just another trap, so she focuses on her reflection in the mirror and smiles with as much warmth as she can muster. “thanks!”

her mum reeks of wine already, maybe even a little weed but it’s nearly not enough today which is surprising. she would have expected her mum to be at some bar by now. 

“i’ll be a bit late. don’t worry i have my keys though.��� 

then she scoffs to herself. when has her mum ever worried? 

“who’s taking you? to the dance.”

“wha–? oh. uh, just a few friends. only met them recently.” she winces, trying to get the last of the curls in place, trying not to be too cagey in front of her mum. she doesn’t want her mum to think she’s hiding something—mostly because it never ends well, and she can’t be arsed to deal with another screaming match right now. not when there’s a ball of anxiety and anticipation in her chest, wound so tightly that it’s slowly choking the air out of her lungs. 

she just wants to be outside. she just wants matty to see her, to call her pretty and maybe even kiss her. 

she just wants this one night with him. 

just one. 

her mum huffs and stumbles into the room. everything about this woman wants to make her shrink away—the days old stink of sweat and alcohol and cigarettes, the grime under her fingernails, her beady stare… 

even when her mum’s fingers twirl around her curl, she fights not to shrink back, to slap her mum’s hand away. 

“you look pretty,” her mum repeats. “prettier than i did when i was your age.” 

her stomach churns at the cruel edge to those words but her mum isn’t done yet. “huh–not so easy to be pretty with a seven month pregnant belly. like a fucking whale…”

and there it is. 

her fault that her mum was robbed off having normal teenage experiences. 

“right, mum,” she smiles shakily, “need to get going.”

it’s almost a miracle that her mum doesn’t say anything else. mum just backs away and lets her gather her things. she quickens her pace, heart beating in her throat, hands trembling when she picks up her small purse. 

it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay

“don’t spread your legs for that boy.”

she freezes in place, almost out the door.

“wha—”

“act dumb again and i’ll make sure you never see that boy again.” 

“mum…” she swallows harshly, prays that the tears pricking her eyes don’t spill down her cheeks. then she nods and books it out of there. better to go before her mum changes her mind. 

better to go before leaving becomes impossible. 

matty makes her forget all of it. 

the moment she sees him, the shakiness in her limbs disappears, her heart thuds in her chest for all the right reasons. he’s in a suit. a fucking suit that makes him look all grown up and handsome but then his unruly curls go all over the place and suddenly she’s laughing with the boy she’s had a crush on. 

no matter what he wears and what he looks like, he will always be that boy.

the school auditorium is full of flowers—some fake, some real. all the girls around her look stunning, dressed in colourful pretty gowns. it’s all spring incarnate. 

all night he dances effortlessly, twirls so many people around him like he’s friends with everyone. and maybe he is—he’s certainly always been so much more popular than she has. she should be the one leaving. 

but she also can’t help but stare. she wonders if he is a daydream, something her lonely mind conjured up during hours filled with boredom or after long, exhausting fights with her mum. and suddenly, he is looking right at her. sweat makes his white shirt stick to his body in the most flattering way possible, makes his sweaty curls fall into his eyes until he can barely see straight.

stop ogling! 

“staring is rude, you know?” he walks—no, saunters—over to her. suddenly, there’s not enough air left in the giant school auditorium. 

“you’ve been staring too,” she counters. and she’s right. all night she’s caught his long lingering glances that make her feel like she’s coming alive. 

like a flower blooming in spring. 

“you kinda make it hard not to stare.” so does he, she thinks. but everything, from his half smile to his relaxed posture, tells her not to inflate his ego further. she stifles the faint blush creeping up her face and shakes her head bashfully.

“come on,” he says. 

at first, she doesn’t realise what’s happening. then he whisks her away to the dance floor and her shriek of surprise turns into one of delight. she has never danced like this before but that night they dance till her heart pounds in her ears, till she can’t stand straight anymore. then they sway softly, in spite of the rock and roll playing in the background. 

“you’re beautiful,” matty smiles at her, sincere and real. 

if she discovers anything about herself that early spring night, it would be her love for dancing. it’s a feeling she’s never felt before—something that almost feels like…freedom. it’s foreign at first, all the blood coursing through her body at the speed of lightning. she tries to keep track of how many times she shrieks and laughs and jumps in excitement. all of it until matty picks her up and twirls her around. 

round and round until she’s breathless and light as air and fucking free. 

somewhere after that, she loses count. at the end of the night, her dress clings to her and matty can’t stop staring. can’t stop letting his eyes roam all over her until he’s grinning himself. his smile is boyish. perfect. and just as she’s getting self-conscious, he pulls her closer. 

“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

next thing she knows, matty is holding her softly against the wall and kissing her bare neck. he softly caresses her waist through her dress and she shivers against the warm spring breeze. she can feel him shaking too, almost like he’s…nervous to do anything more. to actually kiss her and shatter the moment. she can’t have that, can’t let this moment slip through her fingers. 

“kiss me,” she pleads and matty moves in an instant, his warm mouth capturing hers. like he was only waiting for her permission.  

his lips are a little chapped. far from perfect and yet electricity zings through her all at once. if it weren’t for the wall, her legs might have given out from under her. she might just be a heap on the floor, surrounded by all the spring flowers. 

matty kisses with such reckless abandon that it steals her breath away. kisses her until her heart swells in her chest, ready to burst. her fingers tangle themselves into his hair and she kisses him back with everything in her. she can’t care less about how public this is, there’s only him in this moment. 

only the two of them on a warm spring night suspended in this one moment.

she almost whines when matty pulls back. annoyed beyond belief that he’d pull away now. 

“mat—”

“it’s late.”

“it’s not!”

“it is, love.” suddenly his voice has gone gentle, almost quiet. matty pulls his old phone out of his pocket (with the screen cracked and all) and holds it in front of her. the screen flashes with 11:17

shit where did all the time go?

matty makes no move to untangle himself from her arms, still pressed against her. in her ead she forms a childlike grudge against his phone. if it weren’t for it, they would have never known what time it was…

“i hate this.” her voice comes out thick with tears and something wet hits her nose. “i don’t want to go, i don’t want you to go. please.” but even then she knows how unfair it is to put him in this situation. 

matty’s caresses her cheek, wiping away her tears, smiling at her like she’s the most gentle precious thing in the whole world. 

and maybe she is. in his world. 

“you’ll finish school too,” he says, voice a low murmur, “and then you have a uni to attend. so much shit to do. god, you’re brilliant enough to get everything you want.”

but it’s you i want. still she doesn’t say it. not just yet. 

she nuzzles his palm instead, placing a soft kiss on it. “i hate spring. i wish it was autumn instead. i’d be starting uni at least.”

“and you will,” matty reassures again. “you’re going to do so many things.”

“you won’t be here to see them…”

and there it is, all the things she’s been holding deep inside laid bare. matty looks at her for a long time and smiles sadly. “who said that? i’d find you, we will keep in touch. isn’t spring meant to be about new beginnings and all that? so why don’t we start a pact?”

“that’s a silly idea,” she teases but even then she’s eager to know what he means. 

matty ignores it. “stay here for spring and summer, finish school. i’ll find you when autumn comes.”

“you’d really do that?”

“who’s gonna help you move into uni halls huh?”

through tears she laughs. only matty could make it sound so exciting. only matty could make her hate it so much less. 

she doesn’t trust herself to speak anymore so she kisses him instead. he tastes like peaches, mint and something sweet. the very first boy she’s ever loved. the boy she will always love. 

he’s leaving soon, she knows it. who knows maybe she will wake up tomorrow and he will be gone. she feels all that passes between them and she tries to send all her longing and all her yearning down that bond. for a brief second she is determined to make matty stay through sheer willpower. 

but that would be the most selfish thing she’s ever done. and so she smiles and lets him go. 

matty might be leaving but she’ll always have this one warm spring night. even as the clock inches towards midnight and a new day threatens to arrive.

for a brief moment she wonders if she can make time stand still. this one moment stretched into eternity. 

but the minutes tick by anyway. and tomorrow comes anyway.

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[wjhik]

Maybe We Were a Bit Too Loud.. (Jude Bellingham) *Smut*

A/N: been a bit too many Jude stories. if yall have any trent requests pls send

Y/N's POV:

Jude and I have both been so occupied in our work, we have barely got any time to spend with our daughter, let alone ourselves. Kiera had a play at school, so I got off work early. Unfortunately, Jude couldn't make it. She was quite upset about it, but I made sure to make it up to her. We had a girls day. We went to the Salon and got our nails done. I needed a refill on my nails and she wanted to get some color for her birthday party in a few days. I also got her some ice cream and had a shopping spree.

"Mama! Mama! Mama!" Kiera yells. She really doesn't have to be so loud. I'm right next to her. It has been a long day. As fun as it was, it was fucking exhausting. I look at her and she shows me some toy that she has, explaining it as if I didn't buy it for her. "Honey, that's amazing." I play into her excitement. "Mum, I'm hungry." She tells me, abruptly dropping her toy. "Let's get you some food, my little hungry bunny." I say, scooping her up and kissing her tummy. She starts wriggling in a fit of ticklish laughter.

I finish making spaghetti Bolognese as per my hungry bunny's request. She's just like her father. I take out her Minnie Mouse plate from the kitchen cabinet and give her some pasta. I also pair it with some leftover mashed potato and some freshly steamed broccoli and carrots. "Mama! I don't like carrots!" Kiera yells, very politely. "I know, sweetheart, but if you don't want to end up with glasses like mama, you have to have them." I tell her. She's not a picky eater, unlike me, but carrots are her weakness. It's not fun waking up to see a blurry husband, and if she wants to escape my genetic curse of poor eyesight, she has to eat her carrot. "Hmph. Fine." She says, crossing her arms but still listening to me. She's such a blessing.

As I'm serving myself the spaghetti and the vegetables (purely to be a good roll model to my daughter) for myself, I hear the door lock rattling. I look up to see my husband walk through the door. "Daddy!!" Kiera yells, attempting to get off of our high counter chairs. Jude quickly walks to his carbon copy and picks her up. "Hello, my love." He says, littering her face with kisses and placing her back on her chair. She continues munching away at her veggies. "Mhh...Whatever you made smells amazing." He says, walking to the back of the counter, where I place my plate onto the table and get out his plate. "Spaghetti Bolognese." I tell him. He grabs me by the waist and places a kiss on my head. "Missed ya." He says, then placing a kiss on my lips. "Missed you too." I reply. "Ewwww." We hear a little voice say. Our little love session is interrupted by Kiera fake gagging. She learns too much from Jobe. "Alright, alright. Go sit down, love." I tell Jude. He sits down and I place his food in front of him. He quickly gobbles it up.

"Mama, can we watch bluey?" Kiera asks. "No, honey. It's mama's turn to choose." Jude says. Kiera is sat on her little pink blanket at the left in of our very large L-shaped white couch. Jude and I are sitting on the right side. "But, daddy-" She argues back. "No 'but's." Jude says sternly. "You got your turn yesterday, and I was before you. Mama's last few turns were taken by us, too. It's time we let her choose." He explains to our daughter. She lets out a huff and puff. "Jude, it's not that serious. Let her watch. I'm pretty tired anyways." I whisper to Jude a bit too loud. "Yay! Thank you, mama!" She says, taking the remote from Jude and playing her show. "Baby, you can't give in." Jude begins a lecture. "Hey, don't tell me. You're the one who spoils her." I tell him. I'm supposed to be the strict parent, not him.

Jude put's his arm over my shoulders after the 76th episode of these stupid Australian dogs. I would go to bed, but this is the only family time we've had in weeks. I reach for my phone to check when bedtime will roll around. I let out a sigh as I realize tomorrow is a weekend, therefor she can sleep in. Jude senses my frustration and pulls me in deeper. Kiera's trance is broken when she looks over to see her parents at peace. She immediately stands up on the couch makes the strut towards us. She decides to sit right in between Jude and I, of course cuddling him and giving me her back. Jude and I's cuddle session was cut way too short.

My head moves from it’s comfortable position on the back of the couch to look at where the little snores are coming from. I see our little monkey finally asleep after 3 long hours of Australian dogs. I pat Jude's arm and he, in response, picks her up and starts walking towards the stairs. I clean up some of the cups, snacks, and toys left on the coffee table and quickly follow Jude's path. I close the baby gate at the top of the stairs Jude installed when Kiera starting crawling and head towards Keira's bedroom. I creak the door open to see Jude putting her into bed. He firmly tucks her into bed and places her pink bunny next to her. On his way out, he turns on her moon-shaped nightlight, as she's afraid of the dark, and shuts the door behind him.

Jude backs out of the room, still facing his daughter. He turns around and gets slightly startled by me standing directly behind him. "Fuck, baby. You scared me. I didn't know you were there." He says putting his hand on his own chest. "I'm sorry." I tell him, nuzzling myself into his chest. I haven't been able to feel Jude without another little lady jumping on him. Jude places his hand on the back of my head and pushes me further into him. "Let's get you to bed, pretty lady." He grabs my hand and leads me to our shared bedroom.

"Where are you going? You've already done all your bathroom shit." He tells me as I throw the blanket off myself. "Mama's going to go change into some PJs. She doesn't feel like being caught in a bra and panties when Keira decides to love bomb you tomorrow morning." Did I just say that? "Mama's gonna do what?" Jude makes fun of my use of 'mom language'. "See what this damn kid is doing to me?" I tell him, walking into our walk-in closet. I walk into my side of our closet. I open the drawer of 'sexy' underwear I have. it's basically has cobwebs on it. I pick out Jude's formerly favorite white set. I look at myself in the mirror, feeling better about myself than the last time I put it on.

Jude took me to a fancy hotel a few weeks after Keira was born to give me a break. I decided to bring along this set to 'impress' him. I was freshly postpartum, and I felt very insecure. I haven't put it on since then, but I've been working hard to get my prepartum body back. Obviously, I don't look the same as young, active, 20-year-old Y/N Jude met, but I would say I look pretty darn okay. I quickly slip on a silky robe, coming right under my arse. I tie it in a way where it cinches my waist and leaving the front open enough to give Jude a peak of his former bestie.

Jude is sat up on his side of the bed, book in hand. (Jude 110% does not read before but, but dad!jude does) I walk over to my side of the bed, taking an excessive amount of time in hopes that Jude will notice me. "Hey, baby? I was wondering if- Whoa." He says, taking his eyes away from his book. "Whoa?" I say, pretending to be clueless. Jude quickly puts his book on the side table and pushes the blanket off of his lap. He gets up and walks towards me. I open my arms for him to come into. He grabs my waist and I wrap my arms around his neck. "You look amazing, love." He tells me, leaning in to kiss my neck. He starts licking and sucking on the sensitive spot behind my ear. "Jude..." I moan, throwing my head back. Jude leaves my neck and puts his hands right where my robe ends. He effortlessly lifts me up.

He goes back to kissing me as he walks us over to the bed. He places me in the middle of it. He undoes my robe and kisses me from my neck down to my stomach. He leaves a few bites and marks on my stomach. He works his way down to my panties and slowly takes them off. He starts to lick and suck on my clit. He slowly works his way up to using 3 fingers inside me. I'm moaning and whining with my hands in his hair. "Fuck, Jude. That feels so good!" I moan out, grabbing his hair even tighter. Normally, he would talk a lot during sex, but he's so focus on me and making me feel good that he can't be bothered to dirty talk.

"Fuck, baby. Just like that. Ride me like that. Taking me so well." He says, pushing my hips back and forth. He has my robe open up top, but tied up. I ended up getting too cold, but we were too eager to stop to change the temperature, so I put on the robe again. I have my hands on his chest, using him as leverage to keep me moving. I feel my legs give out, and Jude senses it. He grabs me and flips me onto the bed. He quickly gives me a passionate kiss and pulls out of me. "Turn over, baby. On your belly." He tells me. I quickly obey, too horny to resist. I get on my hands and knees. Jude pushes his dick back in and thrusts into me at an ungodly pace. The headboard is slamming against our wall, and I'm making some very loud and lewd noises. Jude reaches up to my head and grabs a handful of my long hair. He wraps it around his hand and uses it to pull my head back. He uses this to kiss my neck, leaving even more marks than before. He pulls me off my hands and makes me grab the headboard. He wraps his unused hand around my throat and squeezes lightly. "You like that, baby? Like the way I'm fucking you?" Jude grunts into my ear. "Yes, baby. Fuck, you fuck me so good!" I moan out. I can feel a knot start to go undone in my stomach. "Baby, I'm gonna-" I tell him, reaching back to put my hands in his hair. "I know, sweetie. Cum for me. Cum around me, my love." As I hear that, I quickly let my orgasm wash over me, Jude following close behind me, filling me up with his warm cum.

"That was amazing." He tells me, kissing my sweaty forehead. Jude had cleaned me and himself up and gotten us some very fancy champagne from our wine cellar. "I know. I'm glad we got some time alone, finally." I tell him, looking up to kiss his lips. It's been way too long since Jude and I got freaky. It's hard to find the time when you're raising the clingiest child of all time. Jude takes a sip of his sparkly drink and turns on the electronic fireplace. It's mainly ambience, but it's nice to have. He turns off the two nightlights and gets comfy. Him and I drink and talk the night away, until we both cave to our parental positions and fall asleep with a show in the background.

(Time skip)

I open my eyes to see a blurry world. I reach over to the side table where I fumble until I find my glasses. I put them on and turn to face my husband. Somewhere along the night, he turned off the T.V. and tucked us into bed, taking off my glasses and placing them on my side table. On the rare occasion where I get to see him, he looks so beautiful in the mornings. I snuggle into him and kiss his forehead. I nuzzle into him and close my eyes once again, enjoying the quite morning. No rush. No Keira. This is nice. I feel Jude stirring slightly. He knows I'm awake as I have my glasses on. He places a kiss on my lips as I kiss him back. "Good morning." I tell him, giddy as ever. It's like it's our first night together at his mum's place again. "Good morning, love." He says in his raspy morning voice. Him and I chat a little before hearing a door creak open. I look over Jude's shoulder to see Kiera standing there with her bunny in her hands, her hair wild as ever.

"Can I come in?" She asks, rubbing her eyes. I quickly but discreetly slip on my panties that were discarded the night before. "Of course, love." Jude says, opening his arms to his baby girl. He places her in the middle of us, and for once she chooses to cuddle me and not Jude. I accept her cuddles with open arms and pull her in closer. "I like this. It's soft." She tells me, rubbing over my robe. Jude lets out a laugh and kisses the back of her head. He slings his arm over the two of us and pulls us into him.

"Daddy? I have a question." She asks her father who has his head on the pillow and his eyes closed. He lets out a 'hmm?' while keeping his eyes closed. "Are you nice to mama?" Jude and and I are both shocked by the question. "Of course he is, baby. Why are you asking?" I ask her. "I heard some banging on the wall yesterday and you yelling." She tells us, now sitting up. Jude and I both mentally face palm. I look at him, expecting an answer just to see him looking at me the same way. "Sweety, mama and I were just playing. She's fine." Jude explains to her. "But you said that you shouldn't play in a way where people get hurt." She says crossing her arms, visibly upset with her daddy. "Baby, I wasn't hurt." I tell her, rubbing her arm. "Then, why were you yelling?" She asks. "Umm..." I look over to Jude for an answer once again, but he is looking around the room, playing dumb. Amazing. "You know how you start yelling when your daddy tickles you? Like that." I come up with an excuse. "Oh. Daddy tickled you for a long time then." Jude starts snickering and I simply nod. Keira nods, satisfied with the answer. Jude tells her to go use the toilet and brush her teeth. She gets up and marches out of the room.

"So, can I tickle you again?"

Wattpad: funkyfishfeet

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[dollfaceksj]

AHHHH angry yoongi?? count me in!! can't wait for 13

heyy😗 short update sorry ;(

can’t afford love | myg (m) #13

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5 MINS EARLIER

“it’s been too long man,” jimin says after yoongi hugs seokjin

yoongi catches up with his friends

until they get to the topic of jun

they ask how he’s doing of course

yoongi as a proud father shows them pictures

they keep talking about how much he’s grown

about how much he’s got yoongi’s eyes but your mouth

but then that reminds yoongi

yoongi nudges jimin with his elbow. “you’re the last person i’d consider to be father material, you know.”

jimin chuckles and nods. “oh, 100%. i could never. not for the next 15 years at least.”

“same, i might have to freeze my sperm now.” seokjin suddenly joins in on the jokes

a frown settles onto yoongi’s brows

huh?

“so then, why did you say you’d be down to father y/n’s child?”

at the expressions on both their faces, realization dawns on yoongi

and it didn’t take long for him to drag you into the restrooms after

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

with a deep sigh, you bring your hand up and scratch at your scalp with your manicured nails

“i knew you’d keep being difficult otherwi–”

he cuts you off. “difficult? what you asked of me wasn’t easy. are you hearing yourself?”

you roll your eyes as bratty as you can

“and yet, you immediately agreed to all my points when i brought up other men. suddenly, i was right when i said ‘we agreed on two kids’. when i said ‘it’s better to have 2 kids share the same parents’. when i said ‘jun needs someone he can love unconditionally and who will love him unconditionally’. suddenly, suddenly, you were 100% sure and down to do it. needed no damn time to think.”

he stares at you for a moment, clearly frustrated by the way you catch the tension in his jaw

it’s quiet for a moment

but you decide to keep pushing his buttons

“so either, you were on board from the start and just wanted to be difficult or you’re just jealous. whatever you wanna admit to, feel free. but the fact that you’re this pissed over something as silly as a little white lie—like saying seokjin would give me a baby—kind of sounds like it’d be the latter.”

jealousy.

and he clearly doesn’t like that

like you care

ugh😒

both of you are just staring each other down

heated

breaths fanning over each others lips

that’s how close he is

leaves no space for you, right in front of you with his hands in his pockets as you lean against the wall with your back

the cold tiles caress the bare skin of your shoulders but that doesn’t matter when you’re this heated

he shakes his head, teeth gritted together

clearly he’s got nothing to say

but your mind goes blank when he suddenly leans in

eyes drop to your lips for a split second before back to your eyes

“you’re lucky this entire look of yours,” he says as he waves his hand in front of your body. “…looks expensive.”

this makes you frown and your lips twitch for a moment

you snap, “and why is that?”

he leans further in, nose brushes right up against yours

leaving no space for you

all you see

all you hear

all you feel

is him.

and then, when he speaks, it’s over for you

“i would have fucking ruined you.”

Oh.

😂😂😂😂😂😂

ain’t shit funny.

you know you’re playing with fire when you ask, “ruin me how?”

in the blink of an eye, your entire body is turned around by your waist

your chest pressed into the wall behind you

and his chest pressed into your back, lips grazing your earshell

one hand on your waist, the other on your hip

“by fucking the shit out of you, right here. or bend you over that sink over there, i’m not picky.”

it’s almost like your body has a layer of sweat draped over it now

how quickly your body reacts to his mouth is crazy

whether he uses it to speak or do something else

and for whatever reason, you think it’s best to keep pushing his buttons

see if he’s real about that life LMAOOO

you say, “i’m not ovulating, though.”

“i don’t give a fuck,” he snaps. “you think i believe a single word you say now? you could’ve lied about your ovulation period. hell, you could even be pregnant right now. you dirty little liar.”

and for the first time tonight, you regret wearing this dress

because even though his crotch is pressed right into the swell of your ass

you can barely feel a thing

his hand moves up from your waist to the back of your neck, firmly pressing down

as if to make sure to keep you still against the wall

keep you trapped

but he knows damn well you wouldn’t wanna be anywhere but here right now

“you’re exaggerating. i’m not pregnant, i had alcohol tonight.”

“that doesn’t make you any less of a filthy liar, y/n. watch that fucking mouth of yours.”

holy shit

now you really wish you could rip this dress off your body

should you?

just be quick so no one realizes you two are gone and have been for a whi–

“now, go ahead and chat up your little photographer boyfriend. maybe he’d be down to film us conceiving the new baby.”

with that, he peels his hands off your body

and he’s gone

just like that

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

maybe he’d be down to film us conceiving the new baby.

crazy son of a bitch

taehyung’s not even your boyfriend!!! far from it

in other words ‘i wonder if your new boyfriend would be down to film us having sex.’

‘film me attempting to impregnate you.’

‘record me while i breed you.’

WHY DO YOU KEEP THINKING ABOUT IT STOP

you spend the rest of the evening by taehyung’s side

only catching yoongi’s eyes every once in a while

and you’re pretty sure yoongi catches it when you’ve exchanged phone numbers with tae

:)

out of 2 nominations, namjoon won 1

you celebrate a little longer with them before going home in a cab

you have to meet yoongi tomorrow and the last thing he’d said to you was that he would’ve fucking ruined you under other circumstances

shit

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

the following day, you’re getting ready to go to yoongi’s home

you’re wearing something casual yet cute

soft makeup

hair nonchalant

as you leave your home, your phone buzzes

ah

you’ve been texting him since this morning

you had to tell him yoongi and you are divorced

and nothing is going on between you and your exhusband

from: taehyung

‘Have you ever considered modelling?’

from: you

‘absolutely not’

from: taehyung

‘Is there a reason for that? You’re absolutely stunning.’

from: you

‘thank you but i don’t know why. don’t think i’d be very comfortable in front of a camera? i think’

you toss your phone into the passenger seat and start the car as you head to yoongi’s place

you show up about 20 minutes later

get out, cake in hand that you’d just bought in some random store

you knock at his front door

door swings open and yoongi’s there, slacks and a button up

ah

so he dressed up for you

you hand him the cake, your phone and your keys without so much as a greeting and immediately step in looking for your son

jun’s on the couch, intently watching tv

“baby?” you whisper

it catches jun’s attention but he doesn’t know where the sound is coming from so he’s looking around

you walk further into the living room

and his eyes are on you now

“mommy!” he turns over and slowly pushes himself off the couch to make sure his feet hit the floor first

he starts running to you and you immediately pick him up

your heart swells

he’s really your life

your moon

your sun

you hug him tightly. “oh, mommy’s missed you so much.”

“i miss mommy. daddy miss mommy.”

“woah there,” yoongi mumbles as he goes to put the cake in the fridge

“daddy misses mommy?” you question as you kiss jun’s cheeks

yoongi emerges from the kitchen again and crosses his arms as he watches you two

“has daddy been bad?” you ask jun and kiss his forehead

he shakes his head

“mommy’s been bad,” yoongi adds out of nowhere

you glance at yoongi and he’s just staring at you with his infamous stoicism

you fake gasp as you look at jun. “has mommy been bad? does daddy have to punish mommy?”

jun only giggles at your ridiculousness and shakes his head

yoongi however, seems to catch up on your innuendo

you kiss jun once more and then set him down by the table, in front of the spiderman plate

jun doesn’t really wait as he starts eating without you two

yoongi walks up to you to hand you back your phone

but suddenly your phone lights up with an unread text

both of your eyes automatically drop to read it

from: taehyung

‘Don’t worry about that, beautiful. We can do some things with the camera in private to ease you into it.’

oh.

OH.

anddd your heart stops beating in your chest when you realize the teeniest tiny twitch in yoongi’s brows in your peripheral vision as he reads your new message

to be continued

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[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 14

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | AO3

-----

Everyone does end up having to go home. Except him, obviously, and Steve, whose house Eddie has learned he's apparently going to be squatting in until they can figure out a way to clear his name.

Is it squatting if he's invited? Eh, whatever.

Nancy and Robin swing by to drop off the prescriptions they'd picked up for Eddie. Both of them linger, long enough that Eddie thinks they might just stay - kind of wants them to stay, torn between wanting to be alone with Steve and not wanting to be alone with Steve.

Robin hugs Steve really tight, and he folds her up in his arms and holds her close, just staying like that for a long, long few minutes, talking so quietly they can't be heard. Nancy takes both their hands and squeezes when they're done, and surprises Eddie by giving his hand a squeeze as well. Robin looks like she kind of wants to launch herself at Eddie and hug him, too, but she settles for ruffling his hair, and then grimacing when her hand comes away grimy.

He laughs at her, and they promise to check in tonight, then they both leave.

Mrs. Sinclair comes to pick up Lucas and Erica and Max, and Eddie stays out of sight with his heart hammering in his throat, but they don't venture beyond the front hallway. Eddie can't quite make out what she says as she picks them up, but her tone is low and worried, and there's an underlying note of a familiarity, a gratitude, as she speaks briefly to Steve.

Eddie wonders, again, how long they've all been doing this. How many times their parents have worried about them, how many times Steve has apparently brought them home safely, looking beat to hell.

Mrs. Henderson is much louder when she comes to collect Dustin, though she doesn't go into the living room either. He can hear her fussing over the bandages around Steve's neck, asking how bad it is, sounding only mildly reassured when he tells her that it wasn't as bad as Starcourt. She asks him to come stay with her and Dustin, and Eddie thinks he can hear something like longing in Steve's voice when he declines, promising to come to dinner next week instead.

Then it's just him and Steve.

Steve collapses on the recliner, tipping his head back. Eddie's eyes are drawn to the long line of his throat, the stretch of tendons and muscle broken up by white gauze.

His mouth goes dry.

"I've got a guest room ready for you upstairs," Steve says.

His throat works as he speaks, and it takes Eddie a moment to process it.

"Fuck," Eddie mumbles. "Stairs, really?"

Steve laughs softly, tipping his head back up. "Yeah. It's got an ensuite and the bed's decent, we can set you up a lot better in there."

Eddie swallows. He wants to ask why Steve's doing this for him, but he's a little bit afraid of the answer, so he just makes an exaggerated whine of complaint.

It works to make Steve chuckle again, at least, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, you'll be glad once you're in an actual bed. Look, I'll get you some food and your next dose of meds first, just hang tight for a bit."

Eddie grumbles unintelligibly, but honestly, Steve's probably right. He must doze off a little, because the next thing he knows, Steve is gently shaking him awake, helping him sit up, and giving him something.

"What's this?" he asks, blinking blearily down at the bowl Steve handed him. It kind of looks like chunky baby food, though it smells pretty good.

"Oh, uh, frozen shepherd's pie," Steve says. "Not a lot to work with right now, we'll have to see about a grocery run soon. But I figure it's probably at least better than snacks and hospital food."

Eddie shrugs. "Not exactly a picky eater over here," he says as he digs in.

It's warm, and tastes a hell of a lot better than it looks. Like meatloaf and mashed potatoes all mixed up together, all hearty and comforting.

"S'good," he mumbles around a full mouth, prompting Steve to make a face at him.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, gross," Steve bitches.

Eddie feels compelled to stick his tongue out at him, still with some mashed potato remnants stuck to it, and Steve rolls his eyes.

"You make this?" Eddie asks, once he's swallowed the rest of the potato.

"Yeah." Steve scratches the back of his neck, just above the bandage. "Sometimes I'll freeze up smaller portions if I make something big, so I have stuff to grab when I'm in a hurry. Or when I've got recuperating metal-heads in my living room."

Eddie huffs a little laugh. "That a common occurrence? And here I thought I was special," he teases.

"You're something," Steve returns, though the grin he gives him is wide and fond as he reaches for the prescription bag Robin'd dropped off, pulling out the pair of bottles within and reading them over. "You're not due for your antibiotics yet, but you can have the pain meds."

He opens the bottle up, then pauses, frowning down into it. "Did they give you the wrong prescription?"

Ah.

"No," Eddie says, feeling exhausted.

"But we have the same meds, and mine is like. Four times this amount, even though your injuries are way worse, infection aside," Steve says, looking back up at him with his brow furrowed.

"They said it's because I left against medical advice."

Steve snorts. "That's a load of crap."

Eddie sighs. "What do you want me to tell you, Steve? You know what my side job is. The whole town does. Every time I go to the ER for something, to them, I'm just drug seeking."

Steve looks stricken, and god, Eddie's not sure he can take any well meaning pity right now. He kind of wants the couch to just swallow him up.

There's just silence, though, and then Steve's jaw sets in determination. He gets up, leaving Eddie floundering a little and staring after him as he walks into the kitchen, returning with a bottle that looks almost identical to the one Eddie was given.

He sits back down, popping them both open, and promptly tips his bottle to start dumping his own pills into Eddie's.

"Whoa, hey, what the fuck!" Eddie struggles to get up without hurting himself or dropping his bowl, gives up, and tries his best to glare at Steve from his position on the couch under the blankets.

"You need them more," Steve says stubbornly. "It's not like I'm going to take them, anyway."

Fuck, that's worse than pity, and Eddie feels his blood boil.

"No, of course not." Eddie sneers. "Is His Majesty above such petty things like pain? Would he rather muscle through on sheer meathead determination than turn to drugs like the lower class?"

Steve goes very still. "Do you really think that?" he asks quietly.

Eddie opens his mouth to snap that he doesn't have to think it, that Steve just showed him it, but - he looks at the expression on Steve's face instead, how it's gone closed off but it isn't hard, isn't angry. It's just blank. Abruptly, Eddie feels wrong-footed, like he'd fallen back on old habits and responded as the guy everyone thinks he is, to the guy he used to think Steve was.

"No," he says, just as quietly. "I don't really think that."

Steve's frozen exterior melts a little, and he shakes a pair of pills out into his hand, holds them out for Eddie to take. Eddie does, swallows them dry, and shovels another spoon of shepherd's pie into his mouth to keep it occupied. Steve looks like he's thinking about something, and Eddie doesn't want to risk saying something to throw him off.

"It's not that I'm trying to muscle through," Steve says, apparently coming to a decision. "I was drugged last time we dealt with Upside Down shit, it was a whole thing." He waves his hand. "I was high as hell for some of what was going down, and it was. Not a great time."

Eddie tries to imagine fighting off the demobats while drugged out of his mind, and goes a little pale. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Steve says. "I can't really do anything stronger than alcohol or the occasional joint now."

"Fuck," Eddie says, softer and with more feeling. "Jesus Christ, I'm such an ass, why do you even like me?"

Steve opens his mouth, and Eddie flails, slapping his hand over Steve's mouth before he can say anything.

"Nope, nuh-uh, this is an apology, not a ploy to get you to say nice things about me," Eddie insists. "Okay?"

Steve's laughing at him, he can tell just by his eyes, but he waits until Steve nods before he pulls his hand away.

"That's not what I think of you," Eddie says again. "I got defensive and lashed out, and it wasn't fair. I'm sorry."

The laughter in Steve's eyes fades, and he looks - caught out, all surprised and vulnerable, and he's staring at Eddie with something like wonder.

It makes Eddie squirm, feeling both like he doesn't know what he did to get that look and like he never wants it to stop.

"Thank you. Apology accepted." Steve's quiet for a moment before adding, "I'm sorry, too. I could tell you were upset but you didn't want sympathy, so I just."

He shrugs, and Eddie's going to press him more about what he just, but first - "You could tell?"

"Yeah. Your face does this thing - you're usually so expressive, but you just kind of shut down, like you're resigned."

Oh. Fuck. He hadn't realized Steve noticed him like that, and he focuses really hard on the other thing he wanted to push about to avoid thinking about it too much. "So you just?"

Steve gives him a crooked little smile. "Jumped to fixing it. Robin says I have this thing, where if someone I care about is upset and I don't know what else to do, I try to fix it. But sometimes how I try to fix it and what they want are different things."

Eddie's mouth opens, and before he knows it he's said, "I'm okay with that."

Steve blinks at him. "Really?"

Eddie'd shrug, but he's not sure his shoulder - or his entire torso - is up for the motion right now, so he just tries to look as casual as possible while half huddled on the couch, in hospital scrubs. "Yeah. People don't try to fix things for me, not unless it's my uncle. Might be kind of nice."

"Oh." Steve's got this look on his face like he doesn't know what to do with that - maybe he hasn't gotten many people who let him try to fix things for them.

Which, fair enough. Under any other circumstances, Eddie'd probably be one of those, just - he doesn't think he's lying, even not touching the fact that Steve hadn't reacted to what he said. "I'm probably going to be a dick about it when I'm not recovering from being half dead, though," he adds, just to be safe.

Steve snorts. "You've met just about all of my friends, man, that's nothing new. Usually I do a decent job at figuring out when they're just being dicks and when I'm actually going too far, but they're good about telling me when I don't get it right. They do it when I'm being too much of a dick, too."

"I can do that," Eddie decides. "Tell you if you're going too far."

He probably shouldn't make decisions right after leaving the hospital against medical advice, but screw it, he's doing it anyway.

"Okay," Steve says after another moment of consideration, then narrows his eyes at him. "I'm still taking a rain check on telling you all the things I like about you. It's getting to be kind of a long list."

Eddie gapes at him. Fuck, he can feel his cheeks burning, and he really hopes he can blame it on the bite wounds or the pain meds.

Hopes Steve won't ask, because he knows that would be a lie.

"Go away," he says, curling over his bowl so he doesn't have to look at Steve. "Let me eat my luxury baby food in peace before I have to drag my ass up all those stairs."

Steve laughs at him again, but it isn't mean, and he does leave, heading upstairs to - Eddie doesn't really know what Steve Harrington does with his free time when he's not ripping apart demobats or complaining about babysitting, actually.

Huh.

He thinks he might like to find out.

He shovels the rest of his shepherd's pie down methodically, then sets the bowl down on the coffee table and eyes the stairs. Despite his earlier words, he's pretty sure there's no way he's going to make it up them on his own. He pulls in a breath and lets it out, then calls, "Hey, Steve?"

Steve emerges almost immediately, a couple of towels tossed over one shoulder and an armful of plastic bottles. "You done?" he asks, tromping down the stairs.

Eddie eyes him. "What's all that?"

"The hospital did a pretty good job at getting most of the Upside Down grime off of us, but I thought you might want to wash it out of your hair," Steve says.

And fuck, yeah, Eddie really, really wants to - it's not just Upside Down grime, honestly, what with the whole being on the run for a week thing, and it just feels gross. Still, Eddie grimaces.

"Not, uh. Not really sure I can stand up long enough," he admits. "Plus I'm not supposed to lift my arms that high yet."

Steve's ears turn just a little bit pink, and Eddie struggles to keep his expression neutral, not to let his eyebrows raise up or to lean in too hungrily.

"I can wash it for you," he offers. "The laundry room's got a pretty deep sink, and I can pull up a chair and have you lean back a little."

He looks so fucking earnest that it makes Eddie flounder a little, once again having to restrain himself from asking why. Why is Steve doing any of this? Is it just because this seems to be what he does, because he thinks of Eddie as part of their Upside Down fighting group now and is focused on taking care of a party member? Were the handful of stolen moments during all of the fuckery and in the hospital real, or is Eddie just fooling himself that this is something he could actually have?

"Yeah," he says before he even realizes he's agreeing, while his thoughts are still a tangled up mess. "Appreciate it, man."

Steve shoots a smile at him. "Gimme a sec, I'll be right back."

He disappears down the hall for a few minutes, then comes back to help Eddie up. It's slow going, with Steve taking most of Eddie's weight, but he knows it's not going to be near as rough as the stairs will be, so he tells himself it's a practice run.

There's a low backed chair pulled up in front of the sink when they get to the laundry room, a folded up towel already pillowed on the edge of it. Steve guides him to sit down and tilt his head back, neck cushioned by the towel and hair spilling into the sink.

And then -

Fuck, Steve is close.

He's been close before, obviously, he let Eddie get all up in his personal space when they were walking through the Upside Down and he leaned over Eddie's shoulder a few times to watch what he was doing, and Eddie's literally been leaning on him to walk since he got here, but - with all of that, there was something else going on, some kind of other purpose or at least a buttload of pain he was trying to ignore.

Sitting like this, Steve leaning over him as he fiddles with the knobs to get the water to a good temperature, he's just close. Eddie can feel the body heat coming off of him, and he can count every freckle and mole on Steve's forearms, where he'd pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He's not trying to look, but he can still see the scrawl of writing that disappears under the sleeve of his left arm, can just make out I don't think. He can hear the heavy beat of his own heart and the way his breath quickens, and he forces himself to breathe slow and even, trying not to draw attention to it.

Then Steve's fingers are in his hair, gently sweeping it all together as he starts rinsing it out.

"Shit, man, this might take awhile," he says apologetically. "The water's coming out as black as it did for mine, and I've got less hair."

Eddie hums noncommittally, afraid if he says anything he'll end up telling Steve that's fine by him, they can stay like this all night if he wants to. There's the sound of a shampoo bottle opening, and on his next breath in he's hit with the scent of something, he has no idea what, like a honeyed summer day, all sunshine and sweet and clean.

And then Steve's hands are on him again, fingertips rubbing small circles over his scalp, blunt nails scratching in just the right way to send shivering goosebumps down his spine.

He's not proud of the way it makes him fucking whimper, but mostly because the sound prompts Steve to freeze.

"That hurt?" Steve asks softly.

"No," Eddie manages to get out. "It, uh. Feels nice."

Nice is an understatement, but not a lie, so it's the best he's got right now. It makes Steve continue, at least, so Eddie's taking the fucking win.

His eyes slide shut, and he thinks he might drift off to sleep right there if it weren't for the fact that he really wants to cling to how fucking good this feels. God, he can't remember the last time he felt a physical sensation that wasn't pain or discomfort, and he tells himself that's the reason that this is making him react so strongly.

No one's ever done anything like this for him before. No one's ever wanted to, even before the murder accusations, and between the exhaustion settling over him and the pain meds kicking in and the euphoria of feeling good - Eddie's dangerously close to begging, here. To saying please, just, please can he keep having this, please can this mean something, can this be because Steve wants to and not because he feels obligated.

"You okay?" Steve asks quietly as he rinses Eddie's hair out, and starts lathering up for a second wash.

Eddie hopes it's just a general are you okay, in light of the whole everything, and not a specific hey you look like you're going through something right now. Doesn't actually matter, he guesses, because he still has to say something, and he doesn't know what to say that isn't a lie or isn't something that's too much.

"Haven't, uh. Haven't had anyone do this before," he admits, because that seems like the safest thing to acknowledge.

He thinks what he means by this was pretty obvious, but apparently not, because Steve gives a thoughtful little hum.

"Take care of you?" he asks, cradling Eddie's skull in his hands so delicately it makes him want to weep.

Or shove him off and run until he can't anymore, but that's not any better.

"Fuck, Steve, not holding back any punches here, huh?" he asks, his voice a little raspy.

"I mean. We almost got eaten by demobats together, and we're in kind of a bathroom. That's prime bonding time, for me."

Eddie'd shake his head, but he doesn't want to do anything to dislodge Steve's hands, so he settles for heaving a pointed sigh. "No, Steve, people haven't been lining up to take care of the freak. It's not like I need it, anyway."

Steve makes this little sound - Eddie's not sure he's even aware that he does it, really, but it's like the verbal equivalent to rolling his eyes. "Everyone needs it, sometimes. It's okay to want that, especially after all of this. This isn't the first time some of us have stayed together in the aftermath."

"Yeah? Who looks after you, then?" Eddie asks.

"Robin, usually, sometimes Dustin. Why, you volunteering?"

He can't see Steve's face, but he thinks that was probably meant to come out as teasing. It doesn't quite land there, though, a little too soft, a little too genuine, and it makes Eddie swallow.

"Maybe," he says, feeling his heart beat in his throat.

"Oh," Steve breathes out, his hands stilling for a moment.

Eddie fights not to open his eyes.

"Yeah, okay," Steve says, a little too carelessly, fingertips scratching back over his scalp again. "I look after you, you look after me."

That's not quite what Eddie meant, but he doesn't know how to say what he meant, so he just says, "You don't have to. Take care of me, I mean. Just because you think it's okay to want to be taken care of, you know, it doesn't have to be you."

He waits for Steve to point out that Eddie'd just said that no one else was lining up for the job, maybe make a joke about how it's him or nothing.

Instead, Steve says, "I know. I want to."

Fuck.

If this is the way Steve always is, Eddie can see why so many girls were into him in high school.

When he's reasonably sure his voice isn't going to shake, he says, "Thanks, man. For - all of this."

He's kind of worried Steve is going to tell him that he's doing it because he wants to again, but fortunately that seems to be enough talking about not quite emotions for both of them, because Steve just hums as he starts rinsing Eddie's hair again.

Eddie lets himself relax, sinking into the soft, floaty feeling that wants to pull him down, and just enjoying the feel of Steve's fingers in his hair, the edge of pain blurred and fuzzy from the meds, and finally, finally feeling like maybe he's safe.

It takes another round of lather and rinse for Steve to be satisfied with how clean his hair is, but Eddie sure as hell isn't protesting. Time kind of slips and wobbles, anyway, as he doesn't doze so much as just fucking melt into the chair and under Steve's hands, like all the tension from the last week plus is oozing out of him. He thinks Steve murmurs something about conditioner, but he honestly doesn't care, as long as he can keep sitting here like this.

Eventually, the water's shut off, and Steve's tilting his head up, draping his hair over a towel and gently scrunching it before wrapping it up.

"You awake?" Steve asks, voice a little sing-song like he's teasing.

"Depends on how you're measuring awake," Eddie mumbles back, not entirely sure he managed to get all those syllables out in the correct order.

Whatever he says, it makes Steve laugh softly. "Come on, Munson, up you go. Let's get you to bed."

Eddie's hindbrain immediately takes over, and the next thing he knows he's saying, "Fuck, yes please, finally."

Fortunately, Steve seems to take his eagerness as an eagerness to be in bed in general, and not in Steve's bed specifically, because he just says, "You gotta stand up for that."

Eddie whines, and Steve's hand on his elbow where he'd been tugging him to get up slips, and Eddie looks up at him, eyes wide.

Steve's staring back at him, and holy shit, Eddie might be high on pain meds and a boneless mess from what was basically a head massage, but he knows what desire looks like, knows Steve's eyes are probably a mirror of his own right now.

Then Steve's eyes are closing, and he visibly shakes himself like a fucking dog, before his hand finds its spot on Eddie's elbow again, nice and firm.

"Steve," Eddie murmurs, even though he knows he's missed his moment to speak, because Steve is already guiding him up and wrapping his arm around him to help him walk.

"Not too far, Eds, I promise," Steve says. "We'll be there before you know it."

"Steve," Eddie says again, and this time Steve pauses, swallowing once before he looks at him.

Steve's arm is still around him, and he's so close they're practically breathing the same air - so close he can see the flecks of hazel in Steve's eyes, see the way his lashes brush against his cheek, and Eddie -

He doesn't want to do it like this. Eddie knows he's pretty far gone right now, a little floaty and a little loopy, and he's honestly not sure what words he can even get out of his mouth, let alone if he's going to remember this tomorrow.

"This is gonna have to be mostly you," he says, not letting himself think about how it could mean more than one thing. "I'm barely standing after that, let alone navigating stairs."

Steve laughs softly, steering him out of the laundry room and towards the stairs. "Long as you keep your feet on one side of the steps, you'll at least have one up on Henderson last time I had to help him up the stairs."

"No promises," Eddie replies, but that does make him look down at his own feet, trying to be careful and deliberate about how he places them as they slowly make their way upstairs.

With the meds, it doesn't hurt as much as it probably should. It mostly just takes so much goddamn effort, feels like walking through jello, and Eddie's not ashamed to admit he's breathing heavily by the time they make it to what must be the Harringtons' guest room.

It's… well. It's boring, honestly, minimally decorated, but the bed looks huge and insanely welcoming at the moment, all the blankets turned down and the pillows carefully arranged to resemble the way he'd found was the most comfortable at the hospital. The lamp on the nightstand is glowing softly, and there's a glass of water and Eddie's bottles of pills next to it.

Clean clothes are laid out on the bed - a pair of black boxers, black track pants with a white stripe down the leg, and a dark blue Henley.

Another lump forms in his throat, and he swallows past it as Steve points out the door to the bathroom.

"I'm just down the hall," Steve tells him.

Eddie manages to mumble out a thanks, and only stares at him a little as he walks out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

Honestly, Eddie's too fucking exhausted to sort out anything about anything right now, so he just shuffles his way over to the bed. He strips out of the hospital scrubs, leaves them in a pile right where they fall, and struggles into the clothes Steve's loaned him.

Like the stairs, it doesn't hurt, but he knows that doesn't mean he can risk overdoing it. He's careful, moving gingerly to pull the shirt on and sitting on the bed to step into the boxers and pants. Then he collapses back, tugging the covers over him. His head lolls to the side for a moment as he stares at the lamp.

If he's honest, his decision to leave it on is part that it feels like too much effort to turn it off, and part that he's not sure he wants to be alone in the dark right now.

Maybe in a bit, he thinks, but he's asleep before he can think anything else.

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

-----

Part 15

[mysticmellowlove]

General Yandere hcs with us pregnant?

We’ve been married for a few years and we’re finally pregnant! How does he react and what does he do during the pregnancy?

note; they took away my yellow option, the bastards

warnings; fem reader, yan male, pregnancy, fluff, pov changes, manipulation inference,

With a perfectly placated smile he walked down the hallway of his newly built house, his perfect little slice of life with the white picket fence and all. It was a great neighbourhood, with lots of other parents around and a pristine record. Full of family gatherings and helpful neighbours who were so in love with each other they wouldn't even take a second glance over at his own relationship.

As he walked past one of his new favourite rooms, the nursery of course, he stopped abruptly. Standing in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips, was his heavily pregnant wife. With a giddy smile, he crept in and wrapped his arms around her, lifting up her belly gently to ease some of the stress. A satisfied sigh left her.

"It's not perfect yet." He could basically hear the tense tone roll off her as she surveyed the room. He'd spent endless hours with her in here organising the furniture, painting the walls and throwing down plush carpet. If his wife said it wasn't done yet then it wasn't done.

"What are you thinking?" He hummed as he also looked around. It looked fine to him but there was just something so fun about catering to his wife's whims. She had the right to be picky after all, he rubbed his fingers in small circles under her stomach.

A click left her mouth as her body shifted, her hand to her chin as she looked around. The room comprised of soft colours, soft surfaces and there was even a nice rocking chair in one of the corners, a little bookshelf full of educational baby books sat just to the side of it.

"I can't put my hand on it." She huffed. He laughed, that was a simple fix.

"Let's go browsing again, I have the day off after all."

After being together for over five years you had decided it was time for the next step, a little rascal to fill the small... gremlin-shaped hole in your lives.

Yan enjoyed the nights he spent trying to get you pregnant, it was one of his favourite parts of the day!

Of course, he always showered you in affection after, there was only one thing better than sex after all.

When he came home and found out that you were pregnant he basically fainted.

A little version of his favourite person was about to be brought into the world and he was going to absolutely coddle it.

As soon as you started to show he was like a hovering hen, fretting over your every move.

Something on the other side of the house, he's got it.

Other side of the room, don't even move!

Two inches to the left, he's wrapping his arms around you in a hug before dropping it off in your lap.

Do you have cravings, want to go for a walk, sleepy day? He can do anything and everything!

The kitchen was always stocked with your favourite snacks, he prepared some easy pot and microwave meals for you when he was out as well.

Want to work from home, he's buying an ergonomic desk, or maybe one of those lap cushions so you don't even have to move!

Don't move, and don't leave the house. He's got everything here already silly.

One of your family members is sick? They can't come over, he wants you in tip-top shape.

No stress is allowed, he will dispose of anything that comes even close.

Creepy men? Dead. Old neighbours wanting to see your belly? Threatened. Loud dogs? Relocated. Co-workers saying 'Of course she was going to get pregnant, she just wants the maternity pay'? Ruthlessly dismembered.

He does let one other lady come over, a short and abrupt older lady from down the road who just wouldn't budge. Luckily she has the same ideals as him.

Why would you go down the street if both your husband and the nice old lady say to stay at home and rest?

Are you bored all alone, how about a cat... or maybe an old dog from the shelter?

He'd talk to you through the nanny cams around the new build if he didn't think you'd be weirded out...

Anything you want, all you have to do is call him and he's there.

He just loves you so much, you're so pretty!

(you were right of course, the nursery wasn't complete... turns out you're having twins!)

[i-read-and-write-barely]

Scarves

You crochet scarves for the members of TFW, how do they react?

This is written more so as headcannons. All the characters are separate.

Day 3. Scarves.

Dean Winchester.

You crocheted a scarf that references Baby, the colors are mostly black and white and there's a mini impala on each end of the scarf.

Dean absolutely adores it, when he first receives it he's stunned for a little while. But he does immediately put it on.

He starts bragging to anyone who will listen. Which means Sam and Castiel get an earfull. All they hear for at least 24 hours is how amazing you are.

Doesn't care if the edges are a little wonky, or if the stitches are a little uneaven. He is positively smitten with what you've made. Although he does do a good job at pretending he isn't over the moon because of such a simple gift.

Even when the cold season is over he tries to get away with wearing it, until you tell him he's likely to get a heat stroke then he begrudgingly puts it away, but he does keep it near him on the off chance he finds a colder area.

Starts using it as a comfort item, whenever you or he is in a stressful situation he keeps the scarf as near to him as he can as a reminder. You don't even think he realizes that he's doing it.

Sometimes since he frequently goes out to eat fast food stains might get on the scarf, he does his best to clean it though. He even asks Sam for cleaning tips.

If anyone dares to try and insult or be rude about your creation he's throwing hands. No hesitation. He won't kill them but no one gets away with insulting a gift from you.

He might use the scarf sometimes to pull you closer to him, he's not much of a fan of pda but when he gets a chance and feels comfortable he'll lasso you closer and give you a kiss.

All in all he's more of a show not tell kinda guy, he may not verbally say it much, but he does show how much he loves your gift.

Sam Winchester.

You make a scarf that is marked to the brim with wards against everything supernatural that you know.

Sam immediatly adores it, although if something is wrong with the wards he will point it out to you, just for future reference.

On more than one occasion that scarf has pulled him out of a bad situation. You are more than happy to remind him of this if he ever tries to nitpick the stitches.

Despite the small flaws he wears your gift with pride. And if you ever need advice on anything crochet he is happy to assist, he'll learn a whole knew stitch just to try and help you.

Offers to make you a scarf as well if you want to go out matching together, the scarf he makes for you is... functional. But the lines are just a touch wonky. Not that you mind.

Togther you both make a pattern for others to follow in case they ever need an all in one ward. And every so often you might meet a fellow hunter who has a similar scarf to you two.

On occasion a creature (mostly demons) might try to insult your gift. They are quickly delt with. Sometimes with the demon trap on the scarf.

If the scarf ever tears or gets dirty Sam will find a way to repair it. And if he can't then he goes to you and asks of you can make him a new one. You obviously do and he is very careful with the second one. (Although he never throws away the first scarf.)

The scarf is typically never very far away from Sam at any point in time, especially in the colder months. But in summer Sam will pack it away, only to immediatly bring it back at the first sign of a chill.

Overall he may be a little picky over your work but you will know he adores it whole heartedly.

Castiel.

You make Castiel a scarf that has a winged cat on it. For no other reason than cats are cute, and wings are pretty.

Cas is initially confused. As an angel he doesn't really need to worry about getting cold so making him a scarf isn't required.

However he does appreciate the gift and understands it as a mark of your affection. So he wears it with pride. Even in the summer. You'll have to argue with him if you want him to take it off when warm days hit.

Even if your stitches are lopsided or really tight on one side and fairly loose on the other, Cas won't notice. All he sees is your love, tightly bundled into one woven object.

If the scarf ever gets damaged or dirtied, he'll use his grace to return it to a normal state. Under no circumstance shall he ever allow it to be destroyed.

Sometimes if you're cold he'll wrap the scarf around both your necks, (being careful to not accidentially strangle you in the process.) as you can imagine this does look a little funny but it does make you laugh, so it's a win in Castiel's book.

While he might not understand everything about human traditions he does try to make you a gift in exchange. A tiny replica of the cat with wings that's on his scarf. It's a little wonky but it's adorable and you treasure it fully.

Cas "accidentially" brags a lot to Dean about the gift. Talking about the craftmanship, the love, and the warm fuzzy feeling it gives him to wear.

If anyone tries to take the scarf away they immediatly get reprimanded. No one gets to take what you made for him.

Overall Cas loves your work, and he only sings the highest of praise for it.

[scrumptiouskoalahottub]

☁️baby fever | George Clarke pt2

[you've been for your first scan since finding out, checking everything is okay. You get the all clear and now it's time to tell your friends and family]

You and George decide to announce it with your friends together, you were going to visit family to do it in person. It's a Friday and you've just left the hospital after seeing your midwife, with your baby pics in clutch.

"I'm so excited to tell everyone" George says looking at you with so much love in his eyes, "me too, shall we call to the supermarket on the way home and get nibbles?" You ask, you've decided to get everyone round to the flat to host a "games" night. "Yeah that's a good idea, I think we already have some left over drinks so we just need mixer for everyone" George replies back, you walk to Waitrose and grab a shopping trolley. Your feet feeling a little tender as you plod around the shop, grabbing picky bits to make a charcuterie board. Picking up things to give off slight hints, pink and blue cups & napkins and plates. George spots an item of baby clothing on your way to pay, "we need this" you turn around as he holds up a white sleep suit with nothing on, you look at him confused. "It's plain baby?" You say to him, "yeah we can go to the printing shop next door and get someone to customise it for us" he says with a massive smile on his face, you can't help but smile ear to ear back at him in awe "alright, put it in the trolley" you say laughing.

You pay for the shopping as George packs it into the bags, carrying it out the store. You decide to take the shopping home and George would nip to the printing store whilst you made the boards for tonight. Even though you were 12 weeks along you were showing a lot, you opted for a flowy grey dress to hide the bump, until you needed to reveal it. You begin to make the boards as George plants a kiss on your forehead, on his way to the print store his idea is to get "Baby Clarke est 2025" printed on the front, simple but effective. You place a cloth over the kitchen table as you set out the nibbles for later, completing 2 boards and placing the coloured cups on the table beside. You take a minute to smile as you look down at your bump, you're in awe at how your life has panned out and you start to tear up.

George returns and you wipe your eyes, "woah, what's wrong?" He says concerned, "oh nothing baby, I'm just happy" you sniffle "and probably hormonal" you chuckle as he walks over to you embracing you in a soft warm hug, you both just take a minute to hold eachother before he reveals the sleep suit he got printed, he pulls it out of the bag and holds it up like the proud father to be with the biggest smile on his face "do you like it" he says as he looks at you, you say nothing as tears stream back down your face, you're choked up from the emotions you're feeling "aw baby, don't cry" he says looking at you "I'm just so happy George, in the beginning I was nervous, I didn't know how you'd take it and I was scared it would affect your career, but it's the exact opposite and I can't Thankyou enough for being supportive and just loving me and our baby unconditionally, I'm so glad I chose you Geo, you're my rock" you say holding back more tears as George's eyes start to water "I would've never been disappointed or angry about moving into a new chapter of life with you, this is a blessing in disguise and I'm thankful I get to share it with you; my whole life I've awaited for a life partner and that's exactly what you are, Thankyou for giving me a chance and loving my silly self, I love you baby" he walks over as he says those words and hugs you again. Time drawing short your wipe your eyes and get ready, you touch up your makeup where the tears had run and throw on your flowy dress. The times now 7pm and your friends start to turn up.

First up, Chris, Hill, Tv and Bach arrive, with beer on clutch as they hand you a bottle of rose they bought for you, even though now you can't drink it but George suspected they would fetch you something so he got a bottle of no alc rose whilst he was out, trying not to spoil the suprise before you announce it. "Hey guys thanks for coming" you embrace them all on a hug as you let them in. "I see y/n's been on the snack prep, George can't do hosting this good" hill says laughing. "Yeah can you tell?" You say closing the door, as you shuffle over to the kitchen, you let out a small groan as feet are still hurting slightly. You make the boys a drink as you have some fruit left over so you decide to make strawberry daiquiris from scratch, awaiting a few other friends to arrive. You pour out the cocktails as they boys set up a game of quiplash on the tv.

"Right I want you to try these and tell me what they're like, it's just left over strawberries I've blended into a daiquiri so nothing major" you take the tray of cocktails over and place it on the table. Chris takes a sip first "this is really nice y/n, are you not having one?" He questions as George looks up to you nervously "I thought I'd wait to see how they were before I tried one, you're my little guinea pigs" you laugh hiding the truth for the last time. The door knocks again and George answers it to save your feet, it's Will, Simon, Chip, Freezy and Becky. "Finally I'm not just going to be surrounded by testosterone all night!" You slide yourself off the sofa, struggling to get to your feet. The boys notice "you okay y/n?" Tv asks looking concerned "yeah I'm fine my feet are just a little sore from walking around today and preparing snacks" you like softly to him as you walk over to give everyone a hug. You hand them all the cocktail you made as you get ready to play your first game.

You all set your names, you spot George's in the corner of your eye as Daddy Clarke, you give him a subtle glare not to ruin the surprise as you begin the game. You finish playing after around an hour as you all snack on your charcuterie boards. It's around 9pm and you decide it's about time you announce it, you pull George to one side as everyone talks and listen to music and collect the sleep suit. The plan is to get everyone to close their eyes, and George will hold up the sleep suit and you will reveal your baby bump. George a little tipsy at this point, you emerge from the bedroom as he ticket it into the back of his jeans. He grabs a glass from the table and starts clinking on it, you sit down to not give a suspicion.

"Right everyone I just want to ask you all to do something for me, not in a weird way and I promise I'm not gonna do anything bad" everyone looks at him confused as do you to try and disguise it. "I want you to all close your eyes and I strictly mean no peeking" "why?" Everyone says in unison as they look confused "just do it and you'll see it's worth it" you wait for everyone to close their eyes before you stand up and join George, he pulls the sleep suit of of his jeans and holds it up with a smile ear to ear, you lift up your dress and slightly lower your leggings to un veil the bump, you look to him and smile as your heart races.

"Right okay, open your eyes in 3,2,1" everyone's eyes shoot open as you stand there holding your bump and George with the sleep suit. You start to tear up "we're pregnant!" You say nervously giggling "oh my god" everyone says in unison as they rush to hug you both, tears streaming down your face as the congratulations come flooding in. "So this is the reason you had to leave early the other day" Chris says as he looks over to George "yeah mate, sorry we lied to you down the phone we wanted to wait until we were in the clear at the scan" George replies to him "congrats mate,mom happy for you both, can't wait for a little clarkey to be bunning around the place" Chris laughs

You still watery eyed look at your boyfriend in awe as the boys rally round him, you sit down on the sofa as your feet feel like jelly. You heart feels warm as the nerves seep away, you even more excited for the next chapter because you have all the support from your friends. George walks over to sit beside you as you all prepare to play another game. "I love you" you say to him as you rest your head on his shoulder. "I love you too baby" he plants a kiss on your head.

-

🫶🏻pt 3 (last part) soon!

[loquarocoeur]

Thank you for tagging me @kichona-s <33

Who is your favourite driver?

Considering my digital footprint and the state of my F1 pinterest board which is nothing but his face, I probably have to admit that I'm basic and it is in fact my cunty little bitch Max Verstappen

Do you have other favourite drivers?

I'd say Charles and Oscar are tied for second favourite, then it's Lando and I quite liked Logan. There's also just something about K Mag and his warcrimes ngl and I'd say Zhou, but actually I think I just like sweetcorn and his sauber tiktoks

Who is your least favourite driver?

I wouldn't say I hate any of the drivers

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?

Just drivers, teams are just so capitalist megacorporation-esque that I feel the socio-economic rift widening just thinking about them and the principals all seem sketchy

Also, I'm already embarrassed enough to be obsessed with these young men with too much money in a sorely lacking women, most of which aren't even seasoned, they're so white they're see through.

If you like teams what teams do you pull for?

I'm going to avert my gaze now

How long have you been into F1?

I got into it with the first race this year (2024) in January I think

What got you into F1?

My friend would not shut up about the fast cars, so then I thought, alright let me try it. And of course I can't get into anything there isn't fanfic for so I just looked up the most popular ship, discovered lestappen, and sorted by kudos, started with top max, had a fic idea, thinking I'd just write one, because it's funny, and then continue to lurk, as is my standard practice...

So I wrote one top max fic, thought it was neat, had another idea (En Francais), was totally also going to do top max, but then it was just not working

So it turned into bottom Max...

And then I wrote another bottom Max...

And then another one and another one and another one and now I might need psychiatric help

Do you enjoy fic/rpf?

It would be a bit weird if I didn't. But actually I haven't been reading much recently, just writing

How do you view new fans?

I'm still a baby fan myself, but nobody should ever make fun of or be rude to someone who's new to something I think, why would you want to discourage people from joining the community? It makes no sense and you never know if they could have written the next classic fic for the fandom or been an otherwise amazing creator

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?

Ferrari, because with this season even I could do better than whatever they're doing. I think they also just need the common sense of a woman sometimes, I think it could do wonders

Are your friends and family into F1?

My family no, I have three (and sort of a half) irl friends into F1. No, they are not on tumblr, and if they ever found me here I would die

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?

I suppose I am, but I'm still new to tumblr culture, I'm still figuring out all the social rules and things, so idk what's going on here, and I'm also very picky and choosy with friends/mutuals, I quite like having just my two or three of them

I don't have anyone to tag unless you want to have a go @zettychez , but you seem more of a lurker. I don't have anyone else because I have the social skills of a pebble

[coffeeghoulie]

dottie im here for the women

can you give us some sweet, loving, hot sex between cirrus and cumulus? im in need of some girl on girl action. im not picky <3

so the outline for this was, in all caps, "cumulus just fucking loves her wife so much"

Cirrus deserves to be pampered, okay?

about 1.7k of Cumulus taking care of Cirrus, oral sex, and mentions of strapons and facesitting

"I went to our favorite store when I was out this afternoon," Cirrus says, voice filtering in past the open bathroom door, where Cumulus is finishing up washing her face, gently smoothing lotion onto her skin.

Cumulus pauses, perking up and sticking her tongue out at her reflection as she realizes how eager she's being. "Yeah?" she asks, priding herself on how even she keeps her tone as her stomach jumps. She knows exactly what store Cirrus is talking about, the toy chest tucked underneath their roost full of all sorts of their wares.

"You wanna try something different tonight, songbird?"

"You always have the best ideas, loon," Cumulus says. "I'm in."

"Cue, you didn't even see what I got," Cirrus whines, but even though Cumulus can't even see her, she can hear her smile on the air. Cumulus flicks the bathroom light off, stepping into the room she shares with her beloved.

Cirrus, as always, is a vision. Dark navy hair pooling over her exposed shoulders, the dusting of light spots on her grey skin that earn her Cumulus's favorite nickname, dressed in soft sweatpants and a tanktop, ready for lounging in bed. But there's an odd expression on her face, a furrow in her brow that Cumulus wants nothing more to smooth out with her kisses. She glances down at the bed, at an open package overflowing with soft blue tissue paper sat on the foot of it.

"Ooh, whatcha get?" Cumulus asks, keeping her tone bright, trying to get her love to smile.

Cirrus just gestures at the box, a foot long on each side, a few inches deep. Cumulus doesn't go immediately to the package, instead cooing as she presses up against Cirrus's side. "Baby," Cumulus whispers, staring up at her with wide eyes. "What's wrong, my little loon?"

"Just thinking," Cirrus blinks, leaning down to nose at Cumulus's curls, making a soft little noise as she breathes in the scent of her shampoo. Cumulus wraps her arms around her waist, just holding her. "I got you something," she whispers into her hair. "You wanna see?"

"I'd like nothing more," Cumulus says, reaching out with one arm to rifle through the tissue paper. The other stays wrapped around Cirrus's waist.

The first thing she feels other than the paper is soft, buttery leather, and then cool, solid silicone. She wraps her hand around it, humming softly as she takes the new harness and strap from the box. It's a much slimmer toy than Cumulus normally prefers, a little shorter too, a white, icy blue marble where it's threaded through the silver o-ring at the front of the harness, gently curving up, and that's when it hits her.

She turns back to Cirrus, a grin dimpling her cheeks. "Oh, baby," she coos. "What a lovely toy you've gotten me. Would you like me to use it on you?"

The grey blush deepens, begins to creep down Cirrus's throat, and she hums uncharacteristically shy.

Cumulus turns, taking her by the biceps. "Baby, I'd be more than happy to." She stands up on her tiptoes, nudging her nose against the line of Cirrus's jaw, pressing fluttering kisses there. Cirrus looks up, meeting her eyes.

"Sorry," she breathes, laughing softly as Cumulus's breath tickles her skin.

"Whatever for?" Cumulus asks, cooing as she presses a kiss just under her ear.

"Can't seem to ask for what I want," she shifts, and Cumulus smooths her hands up and down her biceps. "Have to make you guess."

"Hey," she says, hands moving up to cup Cirrus's cheeks, making the taller ghoulette meet her gaze. "I know you, Cirrus. We crawled out of the Pit together. I know you, and you know me, and I want to give you what you want."

Cirrus huffs, smiling softly. "I want," she breathes. "I want to see you wearing that strap I bought."

Cumulus smiles, a glint of something mischievous in her eye. "Just see me?"

Cirrus rolls her eyes, laughing as she turns her head, pressing a ghost of a kiss against her mate's palm. "Dove," she says. "Don't make me say it."

She laughs, spinning her by the arms so the back of her legs press against the edge of the mattress. "Say what? That you want your mate to take care of you and use this very pretty little toy and make you feel good?"

The noise Cirrus makes is something that Cumulus wishes she could bottle and keep forever. "Oh, that's it, then?" She coos, coaxing her to lay down in their aerie. "You wanna be my princess tonight?"

Cirrus keens, an arm flopping over her eyes, the hem of her tank top riding up, and Cumulus has to fight not to drool at the sight of the soft pad of fat that sits just above her hips. "Oh, princess, don't hide, I wanna see you."

There's a clicking noise as Cirrus swallows, removing her arm from her face as Cumulus straddles her hips. Cirrus stares up at her, her normally pin-like, avian pupils blown out, darkness swallowing the grey of her irises. She reaches up, curling a strand of Cumulus's soft hair around one of her fingers before tucking it behind a feathered ear. "Please, dove."

Cumulus leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her mate's lips. She doesn't need confirmation, knows what Cirrus wants just as well as she knows her own needs. Cumulus helps her sit up just enough to pull her tank top off over her head.

"My prettiest ghoul," she coos, kissing down her chest, hands cupping the swell of her breasts. Cirrus chokes out a whine, carding her long fingers through her mate's hair as she kisses downward.

Cumulus takes her time, even though her patience is already wearing thin and she wants nothing more than to reward her love for offering her that vulnerability. She knows Cirrus, knows how she struggles to open up sometimes. She spends so much taking care of the others that there's not much left for herself.

Cumulus focuses her efforts on the softness of her stomach, just above the waistband of her sweats, sucking and mouthing at the skin, leaving small, violet bruises until Cirrus gasps, reaching down and shoving at her sweats.

"Cue, dove, please," Cirrus breathes, lifting her hips as they both work together to shove her pants and underwear off.

She grins, pushing gently at the lean muscle of Cirrus's thigh, making a little more space for herself as she hooks it over her shoulder. Cumulus turns, watching Cirrus's face out of the corner of her eye as she turns her affections on her inner thigh, kissing and sucking and nipping higher and higher, until Cirrus is whining, fingers tangled in the sheets.

"Grab my hair, princess," she coos, breath hitting where Cirrus is already slick with anticipation, clit jutting out from her folds, dusky and swollen even though it hasn't been touched yet.

Cirrus does as she's told, taking handfuls of Cumulus's curls, pianist's fingers curling against her scalp, but not pulling. Always so gentle.

Cumulus glances up, locking eyes with her before pressing her tongue to her folds, dragging it up over her clit. She doesn't look away, even as the warm pressure rips a quiet moan from her throat. Cumulus hums, shifting Cirrus's thigh on her shoulder and kissing her clit into her mouth, tongue fluttering against the tip.

"Shit, Lus," Cirrus gasps, breaking eye contact as her head tips back against the pillows. Cumulus holds on to her as she works at her, fingers dimpling the flesh of her thigh, her hip. She doesn't look away, knows Cirrus's body like her own, icy blue eyes locked on the way Cirrus's jaw goes slack.

Her world narrows to the points of contact, to watching her mate's expression as she licks at her, drowning in her taste. Cirrus's fingers clench and unclench, never pulling, and Cumulus coos into her cunt.

Cirrus jolts at the vibrations, fists closing as she yelps. "Fuck!"

"Does that feel good, baby?" she asks, pulling back to nose at her dark, slick curls. She presses a kiss to the tip of her clit, nuzzling her cheek against Cirrus's inner thigh.

"Fuck, Lus, please don't stop," Cirrus begs, fingers twitching in her hair.

"Never," She grins, licking a stripe over her clit before sucking gently on it, humming softly. Cirrus nearly squeals, hips jolting off of the bed, and Cumulus just holds her. "My polite little loon."

She smooths her hand up and down Cirrus's flank. One of Cirrus's hands leaves her hair, finds hers, and she squeezes her hand with more confidence than gripping at her curls. Cumulus smiles, redoubling her efforts.

Cirrus squirms, gasping and panting quietly. "Lus, shit, jus' like that, please," she begs, holding tight to her hand.

Cumulus lets her eyes lock onto Cirrus's face, not stopping even for a moment, air magick letting her hold her breath as long as she'd like and not a moment less.

Cirrus cries out wordlessly as she cums, and Cumulus watches her expression, wants to remember the bliss on her face forever. She keeps licking and sucking until Cirrus's hand tightens in her hair for real, panting and writhing beneath her with overstimulation.

She pulls back, licking her lips like the cat that got the cream. "Feeling good, baby?"

Cirrus laughs, chest heaving as she catches her breath. "Is the sky blue?"

Cumulus purrs, self-satisfied. She straddles Cirrus's hips, cupping her cheeks in her hands, leaning in to kiss her languidly. Cirrus moans at the taste of herself on Cumulus's tongue.

When they pull away, Cumulus presses her forehead to Cirrus's, their horns knocking gently together. "Are you ready for the strap, Cir?"

Cirrus grunts, propping herself up for a moment. The wave of heat from her expression nearly makes Cumulus double over. It's the look Cirrus gets when she's about to pounce. "Damn the strap, dove," she says, patting the pillow next to her head, a wicked smirk on her lips. "Changed my mind for right now. I want my turn. Come up here and have a seat."

[thebearme]

What's William Afton like in your Human FNAF AU?

ngl I was having a hard time here so I drew Willy for the past days to get an Idea that's more solid.

Here's Willy and Henry in the old days

Well... it was kinda hard to say. Pretty much the same temperament as the og one; I can't get into too much about his home life or how he behaves around the other Fazbear restaurants rn, that's for later posts.

He's the brains of the operation; He came up with the idea of Fredbear's family diner and welcomed his collage friend Henry to help him in this venture. With neither of them having knowledge in owning a restaurant beforehand, they decide to put the entertainment in the forefront with him and Henry performed. It was a small business back then, but it soon got big and with that so did William ego.

He's a bad father, husband and person like the original.

A bit of an uptight theater kid, so he was the MEANEST when it came to auditions and the overall everyday shows. Luckily, Henry in charge of the audition process instead of Willy.

Willy took his roll when he performed seriously, ironically the character he played was a hippie hillbilly for the 'ha ha American people stupid' satire’s sake.

Fredbear family diner had entertainment that was more like a theater show than a performing band. Henry wasn't much of a singer and Willy only knew a few songs on banjo, but their performances gave an amateur but campy feel to them if you were to watch the recordings of the shows.

Willy would micromanage the business if he wasn't pulled away from it. This leads to him being the most feared boss for everyone. His willingness to fire someone for the littlest thing is scary.

As much Willy makes it seem like he holds all the power, he still is under the leash of the higher ups that GAVE them the money to make this franchise to begin with. William will soon open his own company and entertainment industry later. (That's going to be baby's circus)

Henry and Willy would tend to use their diner performers has a little babysitter. Just dumping Charlie, Elizabeth, Evan and hell-even Michael if Mrs. Afton don't feel like dealing with him. But just because they're in the same building doesn't mean that they get to spend time with their fathers. And frankly, Willy doesn't want to.

Willy promoted Shirley to Head chef after one too many firings of the other cooks. (and other nefarious reasons that will be getting into later)

Shirley's dog being added to the character roster was definitely wasn't Willy choice, but it ranged positive with the higher ups and gave a bigger profit.

Like I said before, Freddy's actor, George, is the only one who's to get into Willy's head and tell him how he's a shitty boss. And that's because he's abit older than Willy, and the whole 'respect your elders' thing is something William has to reluctantly follow. But that doesn't stop him to redirect George's anger to Henry.

You already know that the performer of Bonnie, Janice, was looking for mentorship from William, but it doesn't go great. Well, if you think about Willy's 'pickiness' in actors and the norms in appearance of actors in the 80s... I think you could put one and two together. (before anyone gets mad, it's the 80s and Willy is your average old white man not an activist, so don't be surprised that he wants white skinny women instead of Janice and Shirley)

And for Francis, Willy barely remember that the character Foxy exist, let alone the person behind the character. Or at least he would like too, If it wasn't for Foxy being the most interesting and popular character for the age bracket of 12 and whatever age his 'bastard son' is. So for the time being, Willy just will act like he can't see him until he comes up with his next fuck up plan.

Willy is the same fucked up man that he's been, just without the murder.

[juustozzi]

i saw that you did a drawing of tenma with wings some time ago , i just wanted to give you a small headcanon/idea i have of winged tenma

winged people give their feathers to people they trust, their wings are very important to them and they can be very picky on who can touch their wings

so just imagine tenma giving one of his feathers to like shinsuke, shindou and or kirino without saying a word or making a big deal out of it

and aoi explaining the meaning of it since she also gotten a feather from tenma (hers is smaller cause they were kids when that happened)

ooh what a sweet idea!! it's a nice contrast to Tenma's forward and open personality, how he just gives the feathers without making a statement with it, showing how he truly cherishes them.

and Aoi having a baby feather is just so cute!! she has like a small primary feather, which can't be mixed up with his current smaller ones.

I couldn't think of what drawing you're talking about, and found some oldies with basic white wings... so I decided to give him some more realistic pair just for the sake of it!

(loosely based on bar-tailed godwits, which are the record holders of the longest non-stop flight. and also the godwit name means "good creature" so lol yeah)

[asimplevampire]

so thanks to angelapleasant's take on Buzz in Something Wicked (brilliantly written btw), I've been thinking about how I want to do the Grunts, because I was never satisfied with how I was writing them. If I ever bring back my modern uberhood (I have the canon URL!) or if I want to play them in medieval PV or what have you. and well.

I do like the fanon more than she does, but I also want it to be more. complicated. tastier. a bit less... teenage. and seeing angelapleasant's depiction of Buzz and Tank made it click, the exact dynamic I want.

so in order to make this work we first need to accept a postulate: all the Grunt boys are neurodivergent. yes, all. None of them will ever get a proper diagnosis while they're living under Buzz's roof. But...

Buzz is the kind of middle-aged white guy who yells at everyone if he can't keep to his strict routine, and only eats three foods, and has Strong Opinions about sportsball statistics. He's very invested in Looking Like The Right Kind Of Person-- he's constantly masking, honestly-- and very invested in Being Normal. (Incidentally, this is why Buzz hates PT- not aliens in general, PT and the Smiths. He can't stand that someone so Weird is better at Being Normal than his family.)

Tank takes after his dad, and also has the profound misfortune of Taking Ideas Seriously. When Tank believes in something, he genuinely believes it with his whole chest. This is a rarer quality to have than one might think. It is also a deeply unfortunate quality to have in a place like Strangetown.

Ripp doesn't like routines. Or being told what to do. Or having to focus on anything but the, like, three things he cares about. And none of those things are Normal- he likes art and music and writing terribad romance novels. He's also flamingly bi, and since he's a Romance sim, he's not very good at keeping it under wraps. He started talking about having crushes on boys in kindergarten.

Buck has exactly one interest (pet fashion!), is also an incredibly picky eater, doesn't like loud noises or crowds, and can't tie his shoes or tell time on an analog clock. He talks a lot with family and friends, but completely clams up around strangers.

And so we've got this family dynamic where...

Buzz is harder on Ripp than he is on either of his other children. Buzz desperately wants Ripp to be Normal, for both selfless and selfish reasons. The world's a cruel place to be Not Normal, after all... and it's a cruel place if your kids reflect Weird back on you.

Perhaps a bit too hard. Perhaps pushing into the realm of "asking Ripp to do the unwise or impossible". Perhaps getting worse and more unreasonable the older (and surlier) Ripp gets.

Ripp resents this, ofc, and pushes back. They've got a vicious cycle going where Ripp rebels harder every time the General puts more expectations on him, which makes the General push back harder with more expectations, which makes Ripp rebel...

Tank has been watching this horrible cycle his entire life. And no one bothered to tell him that the expectations Buzz puts on Ripp are not the same expectations that Buzz wants him to live under.

And Tank takes ideas seriously.

So Tank is desperately struggling to live up to this impossible ideal that no one asked or expected of him. He's trying to be the perfect soldier, get perfect grades, be perfect at his job, keep his room perfectly tidy, be Better At Being A Good Normal Person than anyone else in the family, hate the people the General wants him to hate...

If Buzz knew what Tank has internalized, at this point, he'd be horrified. He mostly just wants his kids to do their best... and mayyyybe not publicly embarrass the family.

Buzz is also easier on Buck than either of his other children, because he's the baby and you just kind of ... instinctively want to take care of him. It doesn't hurt that Buck looks more like Lyla than either of the other kids...

So Tank is desperately struggling to live up to an impossible ideal that no one asked him to live up to; Ripp is desperately kicking against the pricks of an impossible ideal that everyone seems to want him to live up to; and Buck is alternating between Getting Forgotten and Getting Spoiled Rotten.

You've got this horrible, horrible family dynamic, that could probably be resolved with, like, three honest conversations and some honest renegotiation around expectations. But all of these men (except maybe Buck?) are incredibly emotionally constipated and Will Not Talk To Each Other without some severe goading from an outside force.

idk, that's just where I'm at at this point, and I don't think I've seen anyone else with this specific headcanon. especially not neurodivergent!Buzz.

[larcenywrites]

You wrote daddy stark content but I'm craving more 🫠 how about a hcs with daddy stark being absolutely in love with his wife's big belly, kissing and all that cute things, and then absolutely in love with his baby boy (yes, he's a boy daddy, change my mind), cuddling him and talking with that cute voice, basically cute and cuddly husband and daddy stark 🥹🥹🥹

I thought you meant daddy as in, ya know, Daddy, at first 🤧 But I’m still on board 🙌 He deserves to have more family content ❤ And yes on this blog he has two sons and I won’t be taking criticism💅

More Pregnancy/Family Headcanons ❤️

Warnings: no specific genders/pronouns used for reader | some mild pregnancy references in the beginning

💠He was already excited, but once you start showing, and when it's suddenly rolling and kicking -he's rolling and kicking- in there, he's practically glued to your side for a while! He's already so in love with his son, and it's obvious he can't wait any longer because most nights he's curled up next to your tummy before bed, or buried in your chest with a hand trying to feel those kicks that he usually catches too late 🥺

💠Aaaaand when you start showing, he goes full on into every mode you can think of! Dad Mode, Protective Mode, Overly Affectionate Mode, you name it.

💠It just suddenly feels more real and sudden, and he's realizing that maybe this house isn't the best place for his baby. It wasn't necessarily designed with a family in mind, after all 😅 But with the help of JARVIS, he can figure out a few ways to baby-proof this place a little better! But then even he's fumbling to practice unlocking those baby-proof locks, and after testing out a few child locks on JARVIS and his answers, he might accidentally get himself kicked out of admin privileges and still runs into a few issues where he can't get a question answered or a query run because it's considered "dangerous" 😭 It's not technically perfect, but he'll settle for Stark proof! Surely if he can't get into it, neither could his kid, right?

💠 You're pretty sure he's more excited than you to work on the nursery! He's just excited to be involved in something he never thought he would be! And just wants to go above and beyond before baby is even born 🥺 and make sure he'll already have the best of everything!

💠 You'll probably end up in very silly arguments, and honestly let Tony just have his way for this one. He did design this house, so surely he can do a decent job on the room! He's having a crisis on step one: the color scheme 😔 He wants a more "gender neutral" color, but there are too many shades of yellows and greens! You'll have to help him out, and calm him down… a newborn is not going to be picky about whether his room is mint green or vanilla yellow 🤧

💠 He's very proud when he gets it painted and hangs some pretty white curtains over the window! "What do you think?" He asks very excitedly, resting his hands on either side of your belly and kissing the top of your head. It's still empty other than a white wooden crib that hasn't been put together yet, its pieces scattered in the corner, but it's coming together. "It's cute." You smile back at him, sliding your hands up and down his forearms encouragingly. He leans in for a quick kiss before looking down. "What do you think, junior?" You giggle when he bends down to kiss your stomach, pressing a cheek to you and waiting a few moments as if listening. He hums in thought and looks around. "The ceiling needs something cute."

💠You try to help him out, but he might be a little overbearing. You find some cute dragonfly string lights, trying to hang them up while he surprisingly struggles with the crib. But he's probably struggling because he's too busy keeping an eye on you on that ladder, but he doesn't want to kick you out either because you're having fun decorating too :(

💠Honestly anything you do gives him half a heart attack! You're pregnant, not dying 🙄 though it may feel like you are sometimes If you need any help, he's there! And if you don't, he's still there! Depending on what it is, he might just do it for you and convince you to rest, especially the further along you get. It doesn't matter how much you protest, but hands cupping your cheeks and a few forehead kisses oughta calm you down! And if it doesn't, he'll give your lips a nice long smooch next. Can't be so huffy when you're out of breath, after all 😌 And he can be pretty convincing 😉

💠If you're going out, so is he! If he's not around, someone's going with you. He's always been a little overprotective, but now you're very pregnant and also kinda, ya know, married to Iron Man, so you can probably see where all of that protectiveness comes from

💠But don't worry! When you do go out, he's not some paranoid bodyguard constantly on the lookout. He is always on the lookout for more stuff to put in the nursery, though! You might have to stop him from getting yet another stuffed animal to clutter the little wardrobe with, but you can stop him from getting that cute little outfit he spotted!

💠And speaking of not being around, he hates being gone! For a number of reasons. But once he's home, he's all over you. Your tummy always gets kisses right after you, but eventually you'll become second in line for kisses, sorry 😇 You both get goodnight and good morning kisses, and sometimes he'll talk all about the mission he just went on as if reciting an epic tale, and it won't ever fail to make you laugh. He's working on his bedtime story skills, okay!

💠Your usual cuddle positions might have to get a little rearranged for a while, especially towards the end, but as long as he can keep a hand on your belly and have easy kissing access to your cheek or your hair he's fine! It's harder for you to get comfortable than for him, and harder to snuggle into his chest like you probably used to :/

💠And by the time you get around 32 weeks, he's making it very loud and clear that he should only be called in an emergency, especially if you've already gotten a due date. And to please try and leave him alone for at least a few weeks afterward 😪

💠And once he is born, Tony hardly lets him out of his sight (and his arms). The two were already the best of friends even when he was kicking his father from the womb, but they're pretty inseparable!

💠You all definitely get into a schedule. You take certain shifts, and Tony takes certain shifts. Tony takes any of the late nights and early mornings. He's probably already awake anyway, and he wakes up pretty quickly too, so he doesn't mind!

💠Well, he says he doesn't mind, but he's always pretty exhausted. You'll often find them both asleep by the time you wake up. Your son is always bundled up in one of the many blankets around here and peacefully curled on his father's chest. If you can't find them, they're likely in the lab! Until he starts to reach out to touch things and starts crawling around, that is… He hates to kick out his lab buddy, but this isn't exactly the safest area for a baby to be wandering around 😞

💠Sometimes he'll find the two of you asleep, too (or maybe you're just resting your eyes- you didn't fall asleep, really!) , and it's definitely one of his favorite things to see ❤️ If you're on the sofa or maybe even in bed, he's 100% just snuggling into you too! He's wrapping an arm over yours and giving both of you a little kiss before nosing into your neck. He's probably also falling asleep, especially if he's just come home. And now you have two babies 😇 If you're in the recliner in the nursery, he'll carefully give you both a kiss and take baby from you to put to bed. And then he has to wake you up to get you to bed... but surely he can make up for it, though😌😉

💠 He'll love it just as much if you curl up with them, too! Though, sometimes he'll get a little cramped, but he doesn't want to disturb either of you :( You're both too cute for him to move you aside 🥰

💠They also blow kisses to each other before Tony leaves 🥺 And if you're holding him when he comes in for a hug, he'll try to grab at dad's shirt or neck to be held. Tony will always hold him for a minute or two, but he can only stick around for a few more cheek kisses before he has to go :( You all hate when he leaves, and it's hard on you all. Your son knows dad put him into his crib at night, and is always the one getting him up in the morning.

💠But as soon as Tony is home, the house is always full of cooing and laughter from both of them. You're pretty sure Tony tells the best jokes in baby talk, but too bad neither of you understands it! His dad is always messing with him, too, but at least he thinks it's funny! Tony is always bouncing those tiny feet and blowing raspberries. When he starts to reach out to touch dad's face, Tony very sweetly kisses the hand trying to grab his nose and poke his cheeks. Until he starts poking him in the eye 😪 and your son thinks it's hilarious when he replies with an ow and starts shaking his little arm

💠Just as you always gave Tony a heart attack while pregnant, he's probably going to give you a heart attack with your baby. As soon as he can hold his head up, Tony is out there with him in the pool! Holding him of course, but he will literally be throwing him in the air and catching him 😰 They're both having a great time, at least! But you might not be 🤧 And when he's still really small, Tony will just carry him around in the crook of one arm, and will even continue to work, and bend, and walk- even in public. It probably looks like he's being a bit careless, but he's really not! And besides, you know from experience how comfortable and secure those strong arms can be 😌

💠And do we even need to mention the lab? You'll have plenty reason to be wary of it, but sometimes Tony likes to have company down there. When he's not blowing stuff up, of course! Plus, he's always busy, and might not get as much time with him as you usually do, so how could you say no? Tony is actually pretty responsible! You can trust him not to get into anything too flammable! Not around the baby, at least...

💠Tony spoils the hell out of him without meaning too. Tony might be able to rock him pretty often and bounce him on his leg, but when Tony is gone, you don't tend to have that luxury. Putting him back into his bouncers can be a nightmare, but keeping him swaddled to your chest or back will satiate him if you can get by! Don't worry: it doesn't work out in Tony's favor, either. Sometimes he's busy, but he can't help but bend to his son's will and keep him in his arms. He can't stand the crying anyway, and he may also need him quiet while he's on a pretty important phone call 😅 Sometimes he can hand him off to you, but sometimes you're busy or gone! He'll struggle with properly doing it at first, but he'll pick up on what you do: swaddle him in a blanket and tie it around your chest and/or back. Baby is secured and happy! And it leaves your hands free to keep working. It's probably a little funny to see him walking around the lab with his son on his back, but it works! It also seems to help put him to sleep, at least 😮‍💨

💠When he really starts to babble more, you'll probably be wondering who tf Tony is talking to. He'll just straight up talk to his infant son like an adult, but he does answer, to be fair. You'll hear him in the kitchen talking about air fryers and agreeing with that nonsensical babbling (our son says we need an air fryer, btw), or he might be complaining about a character in a show and he'll act just as outraged 😂 He'll even mimic the hand motions! It's quite adorable, and there will be no doubt about which mini-me he is 🥰