#okay so i checked and there are a couple of people who all have less than 10 minute long videos about a PART of what I want to talk about

[tepli-mravenci]

Oh to have the time and energy (and equipment) to make multihour video essays about extremely niche topics

#(i need to rewatch full 9 seasons of a show (200+ episodes) as research for a video I NEED to make one day) #i live in fear that someone else will think of it by the point i get to it hence why I never specifically said anywhere I wanna make it #but its so incredibly niche it's very unlikely #i haven't even looked into if a similar video already exists because i WILL mourn it like an unborn child if someone makes it before me #yes i just finished watching the james somerton hbomberguy video why u asking #okay so i checked and there are a couple of people who all have less than 10 minute long videos about a PART of what I want to talk about #I practically want to amp up that research about 20 times and then draw seemingly ridiculous conclusions about the show #that will make sense if i explain myself

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Over the last few years, I’ve begun to heavily encourage people to think of a zoo or aquarium or sanctuary being accredited as conveying important information about their ethos / operations / politics - but not as an inherent indicator of quality. Why? Because accrediting groups can be and are fallible. There are issues with all of the accrediting groups and programs, to varying degrees, and so they’re just a piece of information for a discerning zoo-goer to incorporate into their overall opinion. I just saw a news article go by with some data that proves my point.

First off, good for Houston, no commentary that follows is directed that them.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen a headline like this - there was one a couple years ago, about Cheyenne Mountain Zoo in Colorado also getting a perfect inspection. But here’s what bugs me about it.

If you see/hear the phrase “Facility X has been accredited by Y organization, which holds the highest standards in the world for this type of facility”, it kind of implies that facility X meets all of those standards, doesn’t it? Not most of them, not the majority. When you hear that a zoological facility has gone through a rigorous process to earn an accreditation branded (by the accrediting org) as “the gold standard” in the industry… the general public is going to interpret that as saying these facilities are in compliance with every single rule or standard. And what these headlines tell us, alongside the commentary from AZA in the articles, is that it’s not only not true - it never has been true. Most AZA accredited facilities apparently don’t meet all the AZA standards when they’re inspected, and that’s both okay with them and normal enough to talk about without worrying about the optics.

Let’s start with the basic information in the Houston Chronicle article, which will have been provided to them by the zoo and the AZA.

“Since it's inception in 1974, the AZA has conducted more than 2,700 inspections and awarded only eight perfect evaluations throughout the process's 50-year history. Houston Zoo's final report is 26 pages long — and filled with A's and A-pluses."

Okay, so… doing that math, less than one percent of AZA accreditation inspections don’t meet all the standards at the time of inspection. But, wait, that’s not just what that says. That bit of information isn’t talk about AZA accredited facilities vs the ones that got denied accreditation: this is telling us that of facilities that earned AZA accreditation, basically none of them meet all the standards at the time. This isn’t talking about tabled accreditations or provisional ones where they come back and check that something improved. Given that math from earlier, this information means that most - if not all - AZA accredited facilities have repeatedly failed to meet all of the standards at one point in time … and have still been accredited anyway.

That tracks with what was said about Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, back in 2021 when they got their perfect accreditation.

“Cheyenne Mountain Zoo has earned an incredibly rare clean report of inspection and its seventh consecutive five-year accreditation from the Association of Zoos and Aquariums (AZA). In nearly 50 years of accreditations, CMZoo is only the fourth organization to earn a ‘clean’ report, which means there wasn’t a single major or minor concern reported”

Seven consecutive accreditation processes - and only one of them where they actually met all the standard at the time.

Here’s what the AZA CEO had to say about Houston’s accreditation achievement in that article, which reinforces my conclusion here:

"AZA president and CEO Dan Ashe says the multi-day inspection process, which occurs every five years, has been described as "comprehensive, exhausting and intimidating."

"We send a team of experts in who spend several days talking to employees, guests and the governing board. They look at animal care and husbandry. They look at the governance structure and finances. They look comprehensively at the organization," Ashe explains. "For a facility like Houston Zoo to have a completely clean accreditation and inspection is extremely rare. These inspectors are experts, it's hard to get to the point where they can't find something.""

Now, here’s the rub. We, as members of the public, will never have any idea which standards it is deemed okay for a given AZA facility to not meet. All of the zoological accrediting groups consider accreditation information proprietary - the only way we find out information about how a facility does during accreditation is if they choose to share it themselves.

On top of that, it’s complicated by the fact that last time I read them AZA had over 212 pages of accreditation standards and related guidance that facilities had to comply with. Now, AZA doesn’t accredit facilities if there are major deviations from their standards, or if there’s an issue on something important or highly contentious. So - based on my completely outsider but heavily researched perspective - this probably means that most zoos are in non-compliance with a couple of standards, but not more than a handful.

To make trying to figure this out even more fun, it is also important to know that AZA’s standards are performance standards: whether or not they’re “met” is based on a subjective assessment performed by the accreditation inspectors and the accreditation committee. This means that what qualifies as fulfilling the standards can and does vary between facilities, depending on who inspected them and the composition of the committee at the time.

So why do I care so much? Because when it comes to public trust, branding matters. AZA has gained a reputation as the most stringent accrediting group in the country - to the point that it can lobby legislators to write exceptions into state and federal laws just for its members - based on how they message about their accreditation program. How intensive it is, how much oversight it provides, what a high level of rigor the facilities are held to. That… doesn’t track with “well, actually, the vast majority of the zoos meet most of the standards most of the time.” People who support AZA - people who visit AZA accredited zoos specifically because of what it means about the quality of the facility - believe that accreditation means all the standards are being met!

To be clear: most AZA zoos do meet some pretty high standards. It’s likely that what are being let slide are pretty minor things. I expect it’s on stuff the facility can improve without too much hassle, and it might be that doing so is probably part of what’s required. There’s not enough information available to people outside the fold. But I will say, I don’t think any zoo is getting accredited despite AZA having knowledge of a serious problem.

Where I take issue with this whole situations is the ethics of the marketing and branding. AZA frames themselves as being the best-of-the-best, the gold standard, when it turns out that most of their accredited zoos aren’t totally in compliance, and they know and it’s fine. They seem to be approaching accreditation like a grade, where anything over a certain amount of compliance is acceptable. The public, though, is being fed a narrative that implies it’s a 99/100 pass/fail type of situation. That’s not super honest, imho, which shows up in how there’s zero transparency with the public about it - it goes unspoken and unacknowledged, except when it’s used for promotional gain.

And then, like, on top of the honesty in marketing part, it’s just… something that gets joked about, which really rubs me the wrong way. Like this statement from the media releases for the Cheyenne Mountain accreditation:

“Another of our ‘We Believe’ statements is, ‘We value laughter as good medicine,’” said Chastain. “To put this clean accreditation into perspective, when I asked Dan Ashe, AZA president and CEO, for his comments about how rare this is, he joked, ‘A completely clean inspection report is so unusual, and so unlikely, it brings one word to mind — bribery!’“

So, TL;DR, even AZA accreditation is designed so that their accredited zoos don’t have to - and mostly don’t - actually fully meet all the standards. I’d love to know more about what types of standards AZA is willing to let slide when they accredit a facility, but given the proprietary nature of that information, it’s pretty unlikely there will ever be more information available. AZA accreditation tells you what standards a zoo aspires to meet, what their approximate ethics are, and what political pool they play in. When it comes to the quality of a facility and their animal care, though, sporting an accreditation acronym is just a piece of the larger puzzle.

#AZA accreditation #zoo accreditation #zoo politics #my research #There’s a lot more nuance to how accreditation inspections work and how facilities with bigger issues are given changes to correct them #but that’s for another post #right now I’m just irked that it is so normative for AZA facilities to get accredited without clean inspections

[moonlightspencie]

Meet-Cute

Description: It's all in the title, isn't it?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!Reader

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 1k

On a Saturday morning after a night of drinking, the last thing you personally cared for was to be awoken by the loudest noise on earth. Some terrible creaking sound, mixed with thuds that seemed to resound in your apartment every thirty seconds had you practically developing a stress-induced twitch as you laid in bed.

To put it nicely: you were at the end of your rope.

You begrudgingly got out of bed, roughly washed your face, angrily brushed your teeth, and stomped to your door. You may not usually be prone to dramatics, but you felt it necessary for your well-being this time. You opened your door, about to confront your terribly noisy neighbor, when you realized that it was someone moving in.

You wanted to be angry. You really did. But…

“Hello,” said a man who you could only describe as genuinely tall, dark, and handsome. He also looked a little surprised.

You wiped the scowl off your face. “Hi.”

He looked around, as if the answer for you standing in your doorway in pajamas, looking quite annoyed, would appear out of thin air. It didn’t. You realized as much about thirty seconds later as you finally started speaking.

“Sorry. Are you moving in?”

"Oh! Yeah," he breathed out a small laugh. God he was handsome. "I apologize for the noise.”

You shake your head. “No! No, that’s okay. Just… curious.”

He smiled a little and you tried not to melt on the spot. He reached his hand out in greeting.

“I’m Aaron.”

You shook his hand, trying not to stare at him as you gave him your name.

“Nice to meet you,” you said softly.

“You, too. Uh… I’m just gonna…” he trailed off, nodding at the box under his arm.

“Of course!” you nod quickly. “Right. Um… I’ll see you around, Aaron.”

You went back to your apartment, shutting the door behind you with a little grin. So much for staying determined to be grumpy and less than pleasant today.

It was, unfortunately, two weeks later before you saw him again. This time as you were checking your mailbox in the lobby. As you heard someone clear their throat, you muttered a small apology, stepping out of the way as you looked through the letters in your hand.

“Um… hi,” he offered as a greeting that made you jump a little bit. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... Just wanted to say hello."

You looked up at the voice that was irritatingly smooth, finding yourself getting a bit warm in the cheeks when you noticed him giving you almost a shy smile. You turned towards him more to give him your full attention.

"Oh, gosh. Uh, sorry," you chuckled softly, returning his smile. "Guess I'm not very good at being neighborly, am I?"

"You're doing just fine. I'm sure it might be a little... maybe off-putting to have a strange man approach you in the lobby, now that I think of it."

You shook your head. “It’s not that at all. I’m just… not used to people approaching me here at all.”

“Not exactly social?”

“More like nobody else here is. I don’t mind a little company,” you replied, a little more flirty than you were intending. 

Clearly he didn’t mind.

“Good to know,” he nodded once with a growing smirk.

“Uh…” you clammed up a tiny bit. “So… Um, are you, like, new around here?”

“Only to this building. I’ve been in D.C. for too many years to count,” his smirk melted into a softer smile. “Just needed someplace new, I guess. My old apartment… I just needed a change of scenery.”

“Yeah. Yeah, no, I’ve been there,” you nodded softly. “How are you liking it so far?”

“It’s great. My son loves it here.”

Your brows raised a little. “You have a son?”

“I’m shocked you didn’t file a complaint last night with the tantrum he threw,” he chuckled a tiny bit. 

“I was out last night, so no worries here.”

“Oh? With friends, or…?”

You couldn’t help but smile a little more. “Yeah. Just a couple of girlfriends.”

“That sounds fun.”

“Maybe too much fun.”

“You get up to a lot with them?” he asked casually, though not without humor, crossing his arms over his chest.

You smiled. “Only on occasion. I don’t think I could really handle the way they go out practically every single night. I only agree to go out like that with them once a month.”

“Now you’re sounding a little too much like me for someone so young and pretty.”

You find your cheeks warm at that, though you try not to react outwardly. You could tell that he knew just how much he had affected you, though. If you didn’t know any better, you might guess he was a mindreader. 

“I think you make yourself out to be too boring for someone so friendly and handsome.”

He laughed a little at that. Then a comfortable silence falls over the both of you for a moment. Maybe two moments. Eventually, you shift your weight, and look back up at him again. He really is horribly handsome. A guy shouldn’t be able to look like that, and… God, he smelled good, too. You shuffled the mail in your hands a little bit before speaking again.

“Uh… Well, it was nice chatting with you, but unfortunately I do have to go clean my apartment. Family is coming over tomorrow,” you said softly. “I’ll see you around, though, yeah?”

“Yes, that sounds… sounds good. Maybe if you end up wanting some of that company you were talking about, we could get dinner some time?”

You couldn’t help a giddy smile sneaking onto your face. You nodded easily, glancing at his hand as he shut your mailbox for you near your head. 

“I could come knock on your door some time soon and invite you properly, if you’d be alright with that,” he said, that little smirk sneaking back onto his face.

“I’d like that.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner one shot #criminal minds #criminal minds reader insert #criminal minds fic #gender neutral reader

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

Female Company

Pairing - Shivering Soldier Dunkirk x fem!reader

Summary - You decide to give the shivering soldier some company in hopes to make him feel better, you do indeed.

Warnings - dubcon, handjob, blow job, rough.

Word count - 1.8k

Notes - Shivering soldier Cillian is underrated, also difficult to write so sorry if horrible writing as this felt rushed.

“Perhaps some female company would make him feel better” Peter, your brother suggested. All six eyes turned onto you, making your heart skip a beat. “Feel less intimidated and what not” Peter added. 

Since you had saved the shivering soldier from the shipwreck, he had been at mute, refusing to show any signs of communication with anyone. He was down below deck, getting warm and hopefully to become more comfortable around these friendly strangers.  

It was risky, you weren’t even really allowed on the Moonstone anyways. But you wanted to help, your father raised you properly, you were a qualified nurse for the army, you were here to help. 

“I’m sure I can be good enough company” George interjected. George didn’t like it, the thought of you being alone down there with the shivering soldier, but that was more out of jealousy than obligation. 

Mr Dawson shook his head towards George, then looked towards you. “I’m sure you’ll be able to make him feel comfortable enough sweetheart” your father gave you a pure smile. “And, God forbid if anything were to happen, we are all right here” Mr Dawson ached, raising his hands slightly at the thought of something bad occurring. 

But your father trusted you, you were a good person who followed pure morals. All your life you’ve helped others, what’s one more soldier to the list? George gave an iffy look but decided to remain silent, looking out the ocean with his fists forming under his sleeves. 

The small door creaked open as you stepped inside. “Hello?” You whispered as you lowered down the small ladder, you closed the small door behind you. 

The shivering soldier was lying on the small, uncomfortable ship bed, a blanket wrapped around his cold body. His eyes were closed but you could tell he was awake. Slowly peeking open, the soldier stared you up and down. The soldier repositioned himself, sitting up on the thin mattress. You sat down next to him, the room was swaying in motion with the waves outside. 

Sitting in silence for a while, you decided to break it. “Is there anything I can do for you? Water? More blankets?” You asked politely. 

There were already such limited services you could provide for him, being on such a small boat and all. You were used to being able to help people, especially in these desperate times, but right now you feel hopeless.  

After a short beat, the soldier mumbled his reply, “I’m okay, thank you”. You tried to read his expression, coming to the harsh thoughts that he didn’t seem to be amused to have you down here with him, that he just wanted to be alone after all, that you were intruding.  

He was beautiful, despite his worn out expression and dirty, wet appearance. There were dark bags around his ocean blue eyes, and a couple of scratches over his face. You felt horrible for him, it was unimaginable what trauma the war can cause upon a man. No one would ever understand how terrifying and ruining his mind had become over this short time. 

“Are you certain?” You checked, you’d hate that he would decline your help by either being too afraid or polite. There was no response from him. “Perhaps if you took off your jacket you could warm up faster” you suggested harmlessly, the soldier looked at you, his mouth was ajar open and eyes dark. 

War tested men’s temptations, it demonstrated how much they really depended on a woman's touch. Men needed something to feel good about in these horrible days, their urges took over their logistics if no one was there to keep them in line. And right now you were defenceless in the beast’s cage, and he was off his chain.

In his defence, you were asking for it. Why else would you ask such a thing twice and then practically beg him to strip? The soldier quickly leant in and kissed you hungrily, his arms snaked around your body to keep you still. You were frozen, not sure how to react to his assault, his tongue slipped down your throat, hands gripping against your lower back as if life depended on it. His left hand moved to your breasts and kneaded them dispairly.  

You’ve been kissed before, only once, but it was nothing compared to this, never so passionate and amorous. 

A moan struggled to break out of your combined lips. Swiftly, he picked up your body and laid you onto your back, not as gently as you could hope, your hand reached for the ache stinging from the back of your head. 

“Be a good little girl, and stay quiet, hm?” He ordered, his hand tapping your cheek to flatter you. 

What else were you meant to do? Call out for help? Start a domestic between an old man, two kids and a war soldier? Even if you did so, what would happen afterwards, you’re on a boat deeply within the ocean. 

The soldier felt your body with his rough hands, he was desperate to feel any touch, but too impatient to take it slow. Unbuttoning your shirt roughly, you were lucky that he didn’t rip off the buttons.  The shape and look of your breasts made him believe he was already in heaven. When was the last time he’s felt a woman’s touch? How many countless nights of him dreaming for intimate touch? His mouth landed on your right breast first, then the left. 

There wasn’t enough time, to properly feel you, to worship your body, to come over and over again. Your bodies felt the friction of the waves rocking yourselves back and forwards. Head in the palms of his hands, the soldier's hips were humping against yours, your legs wrapped around his small waist, he was groaning lowly, unable to contain himself, kissing your neck and side of your face. 

Lying stiff underneath him, you couldn’t help but to moan back quietly, the fabrics between your bodies was too thick to feel the sensations fully, but this is the most touching of a man you’ve ever felt before, your back arched on the mattress. 

“The fuck are you wearing pants for?” The soldier muttered, slapping the side of your thigh harshly. “How am I meant to fuck you without getting caught, aye?” He spat by your ear. 

A lot of people still considered it taboo for women to wear pants, it took away femininity, and in this case, the easy access. 

“M’sorry” you whimpered back underneath him, cheeks all flustered from the embarrassment and overwhelming situation. 

“Guess you’re just going to have to put that mouth to better use” he sighed and sat up, he pulled you down to the ground, you landed on your knees. Repositioning you to be directly in front of him, he flexed his hips towards you. “Do you know how to suck cock?” He asked smugly. 

“N-no” you whispered.

“Ever please a man at all before?” His eyebrow was cocked to you. 

“No sir” you replied and he chuckled. 

“That’s sweet, I’ll be quick anyways” he said with another tap to your cheek. 

He gestured for you to put your hands onto his crotch, you could see the bulge through his damp pants but you didn’t expect it to feel so solid. It was like playing with a knick-knack, your hands travelled all around it, feeling its shape and size. 

“Uh, alright, pull it out now, love” he purred, hand caressing the sides of your head with his eyes closed. 

Your stomach turned at the way he called you love, you didn’t realise how badly you craved that validation. There was this undying small innocent smile on your lips, he looked down to you and gave you a smug smile back and a gentle pat on the cheek.

With shaking hands, you undid his belt and tugged down at his trousers. The soldier ended up helping you, not out of kindness, only restlessness. You gasped as he pulled out his cock, you didn’t realise it could be so – big. The soldier's cock was hairy as the base, had a couple of veins popping out at his length and had a pretty pink tip. If you knew any better about sex, you’d say that he’s already about to burst. 

It was like natural instincts, he didn’t have to say anything, you automatically took his length in both hands, staring from the base and working your way up. He groaned and his head fell back, hands in your hair as you slowly worked your hands up and down his length. In another reality, he would have loved to have you take your time, worshipping his cock. 

“Okay, sweetheart, I need your mouth around me right now” he hissed, leaning his upper body forward easily to push your head towards his member with his hands. 

You pushed against him, your lips an inch away from his tip, okay, this was getting frightening now. The realisation of what you were doing below deck, could be interrupted at any moment, freaked you out. But that didn’t stop him, he pulled harder, making you yelp and your mouth pressed against his member. But you refused to open up for him, he rubbed your mouth and nose around his firm length, your hands pressed against his upper legs in an attempt to push free but it was pointless, you were whining. 

“Fucking open up, you dumb whore” he spat, you mewled quietly, too afraid to catch anyone’s attention on deck. Reluctantly, you slowly opened your mouth and he slipped his tip in. “Ah, fuck” he muttered, the rocking of the boat, thrusted him deeper in and out of your mouth. He had no shame in swearing, muttering and whining underneath his breath, his balls already tightening. “Christ, I’m not going to fucking last-” he was breathless, eyes almost rolling back. 

Forcing your mouth right down to his base, your cries were blocked by his size. There was no space to breathe, your jaw was aching and you were gagging. With how wide your mouth was, you were afraid that your jaw would lock, it was aching, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat over and over again. Tears were running down your cheeks as he was groaning under his breath, eyes squeezed shut, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched. 

Without a warning, he bursted right down your mouth, his legs shaking slightly, hands tightened around your hair. The soldier bit on his lower lip to silence his moan of pleasure as his cock was spurting out straight into your throat. 

It tasted salty and bitter, your face scrunched up at the taste, but he didn’t pull out his member until you swallowed it all, it was difficult to swallow with his cock covering the entirety of your mouth. Slowly slipping himself out, he tucked himself back into his trousers and ran his hand through his hair. 

Tears were slowly running down your cheeks, you felt your aching jaw softly and sniffled, the soldier pulled you up onto the bed and wiped your face clean with his bare hand. He sighed, looking you up and down. Giving you one last kiss, he murmured to you, “thanks for the company”.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #dunkirk #dunkirk 2017 #dunkirk movie #shivering soldier #shivering soldier x reader

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 20

part 1 | part 19 | ao3

"Eddie! Hey!" he brightens. Tells himself to take it down a notch; schools his face and voice into something a little less pathetically eager. “What’s up, man?” 

“Not much, dude,” Eddie teases, one dimple popping out. He looks good. Dressed up. Red and black flannel with the top buttons undone; light dusting of chest hair on pale skin, the edge of a tattoo Steve’s never seen. He’s got his black leather jacket and black jeans with no holes and black riding boots on. All he’s missing is a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm.

“What’s with the, uh…?” Steve gestures to his outfit, because he realizes he’s sort of just been staring at the dip of his throat. Eddie raises an eyebrow. Steve clarifies, “You got a date or something?” 

“Oh, this?” Eddie laughs. “Uh, no. Nope. Can’t say that I do.”

He hops up backward onto the counter, his ass right next to Steve’s elbow, legs dangling over the edge, and he ignores Steve’s protests to get down from there as he leans in to ask in a mischievous hush, “Can you keep a secret?” 

Steve’s breath catches in his throat, twists into a bitter twinge of nerves. He can keep a lot of secrets. Maybe he learned that from his dad.

“Yeah…?” He leans in on his elbows.

Eddie moves in closer still, cups his hand around his mouth and whispers, “I totally forgot to do laundry last week.” 

Oh, my god. “You’re an idiot,” Steve laughs. “That’s your big confession?” 

Eddie’s smile widens. “Yeah. I got distracted with rehearsals. This was the only clean shit I had left.” He kicks one leg out straight to show off his boot. “I’m only wearing these so you can’t tell I don’t have socks on.”

“Gross!” Steve laughs harder and shoves at Eddie, who tumbles theatrically over the edge of the counter, flinging himself to the ground and rolling onto his back so he can fake a couple death spasms and then lie there with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a fucking weirdo. “You’re so weird.” 

“This night sucked before I showed up, and you know it,” Eddie says from the floor. He opens one eye to wink at Steve, then he gives one final death twitch and drops the act, popping back up to mirror Steve’s pose, elbows propped on the counter between them. 

Steve’s arm hair stands on end. “How was your show, anyway?” 

“Oh, it was greeeat,” Eddie says. “Drunk assholes yelling slurs at me, Gareth barfing in the bushes. Standard Hideout gig.”

"Was someone harassing you?" Steve frowns. He knows the Hideout's a shithole — a ‘dependable dumpster fire where we practice for the gigs that actually pay us,’ as Eddie had put it — but he thought the people there were, like, accepting, or whatever.

Surely Eddie's style isn't any more out there than the rest of the regulars.

"Holster your eyebrows," Eddie sighs, "it was fine. Really.” 

“Holster my— dude, what?”

“Your eyebrows,” he repeats. He reaches out with the tip of his pointer finger and gently prods the space between them. “At ease, gentlemen.”

“So weird,” Steve says again. He rolls his eyes and swats Eddie’s hand away, and Eddie just laughs and says ‘There we go!’ because his antics actually did get Steve to unfurrow his face. Little bastard. “Were you gonna rent something, or…?”

“Hell no, my late fees are fucking ridic—”

Eddie cuts himself off, his eyes darting over Steve’s shoulder.

He goes skittish all of a sudden, starts backing toward the exit, stammering, “Ridiculously non-existent. Is, uh, is what I was gonna say. Obviously. Um. Right.” 

His back hits the front door, the bell jangling overhead, and before Steve gets a chance to ask what the hell his problem is now, Eddie starts rambling at triple speed that “Dustin wanted me to check in on you and now I have checked in on you so okay-gotta-go-bye” and practically sprints out of the store.

Doesn’t even look back to give Steve a parting wave. 

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

“What. the fuck…” Steve jumps a foot in the air at the sound of Robin’s voice. He whips around to look at her; realizes she must have been what spooked Eddie. Her nose and cheeks are bright red from the cold, her eyes bugging out of her head, and her jaw is halfway to the floor as she gapes at him, “...was that?”

—

part 21

tag list part 1 below cut comment if you want to be added tomorrow

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #st fic #my writing #my fic

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: angst, hating loki for what he's done, only one bed trope

Summary: You hate Loki and everything he stands for. He ruined a bunch of lives, and you don't want to hear some bullshit on how the mind stone influenced him. He knows he's not a bad person, and he has to figure out a way to prove that to you.

Squares Filled: “god, if only you knew what you did to me.” (2021) for @lokibingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You take some puzzle books and shove them into your bag along with some coloring books and markers. Where you’re going is known to have spotty Wi-Fi service despite you having the best service, so you’re making sure to bring something to do when you can’t get online. The last thing you put into your bag is noise-canceling headphones so you don’t have to listen to Loki yap the whole time.

The thought of him makes you so angry. You slam your headphones into your bag and zip it up angrily. You’re more than happy to go on missions for the team, but you’re not happy with going on missions that Loki is going on. Even worse, you two are going to be alone for this one. This is a highly sensitive mission that can only have a couple of people on it, and they chose you and him.

You haul your bag to the living room where Natasha and Tony are waiting for you. Loki is still getting ready but he can take his fucking time. You don’t like Loki and you’re not shy about it. Everyone, including him, knows your dislike for him.

“Where’s the fire?” Nat asks when you stomp past her.

“I don’t know why I’m going on this mission. Why can’t you go?”

“You can hack your way through anything. Right now, we need that skill. I’m not a hacker. I kill things to get what I want. You sneak in the back door.”

“Okay, why does he have to go?”

“He’s a master of illusions. You’re the perfect pair.”

“Don’t call us that,” you roll your eyes. “It’s bad enough I have to go with him, but going alone? Why do I have to be alone with him? Come with us.”

“You know why we can’t. The less people, the better. It’s only for a week. You can handle being with him for a week. I’ll even take your next two missions for you.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “Let’s get this over with. Loki! Hurry up!”

Loki appears seconds after you call him with his bag slung over his shoulder. He knows you don’t like him. You make sure everyone knows it whenever you’re within close proximity to him. He doesn't feed into your dislike because that would only egg you on so he silently takes whatever you give to him. It’s cute how angry you can get at him.

Your anger is justifiable. After all, he is the one who fucked with New York and brought an alien race to kill humans. He took Clint and used him as a puppet for his own greed. He killed eighty people in two days. He’s the one who let the Dark Elves into Asgard, causing a war to be brought to Earth. He’s not a good person despite him telling you over and over again that the mind stone influenced him for most of it.

“Have fun, you two,” Tony smirks, “but not too much fun.”

“Gag me,” you roll your eyes. “It’s not going to happen.”

You take your bag to the car while Loki stays behind with Nat and Tony.

“Be gentle with her. I don’t need her coming back in pieces.”

“I’ll check in in a few days,” Loki chuckles and walks out to the car. You fit your bag in the trunk leaving just enough room for Loki’s bag. He heaves it into the car and shuts the trunk. “Give me the keys.”

“Hell no. I’m driving.”

“Darling, you’re a terrible driver.”

“No, I’m not, and I’m not going to let you drive. I don’t trust you behind the wheel with my life in your hands. I’m driving and you can back the fuck off.”

Loki could have won this entire argument if he wanted to, but he’ll let you have this one. If you two are going to be stuck with each other for a week, he’s gonna have to pick his battles around you. This won’t be the only fight and it certainly isn’t the last.

You two pile into the car, and you’re off. Loki turns to you to say something but you immediately turn the music on so you can’t hear him. Loki sighs and lets you have your tantrum, but he does want to talk to you. He lowers the music to speak but you cut him off.

“Let’s get one thing straight, shall we? We’re doing this mission together but that’s all this is. The mission. I don’t want to talk to you unless it’s work-related. Got it?”

“You’ve got to talk to me sooner or later about something else.”

“I choose later,” you smile sweetly and turn the music up again.

Tony is responsible for your shelter and he picks the worst fucking place on the planet. The motel he chose is run-down and old with the sidewalk chopped up, the paint in the parking lots is so faded it’s hard to tell where the next parking spot is, the building looks like it’s going to collapse any second, and the numbers on the doors are no longer there. Only a faded shadow of what was.

The inside isn’t much better, but what did you expect? The people you’re targeting are weapons dealers who choose places like this for a reason. No one would go looking for someone if they were here. Tony is one of your good friends but you’ve always hated his sense of humor. If you call him now, he’s going to say it’s a mistake on his part because there is only one bed. One bed that you and Loki have to share.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you huff out in anger.

“It’s only a bed, love,” Loki says and walks inside.

“I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Be my guest.”

It’s already too late to do anything so you two get ready for bed. You grab two pillows and drop them on the floor. This isn’t going to be very comfortable but you’ll do it if it means not sharing a bed with Loki. After you brush your teeth, Loki prepares to take a shower. He closes the door before he gets undressed, and you glance over in curiosity. He hasn’t closed the door all the way so you can see him through the sliver.

His back is turned to you but damn, it’s a muscular back. He may be lean but he has well-defined muscles. Thor likes to show his off while Loki is more reserved. His pale skin glistens in the dim glow of the bathroom light, and you look away before he catches you staring. Yes, he’s quite handsome for a God. You’re not blind, you have eyes. No, stop it. He’s a bad person. He’s not handsome.

You shake your head and grab the top blanket layer on the bed to get comfortable. Your back is going to hurt the whole time you’re here but you refuse to sleep on the same bed as him. Loki finishes his shower quickly and quickly changes into silk pajamas. Of course, this motherfucker would have silk pajamas.

He walks out as he’s drying his hair and scoffs when he sees you on the ground.

“Really? You’re going to sleep on the floor?”

“Yes, now go to bed.”

“You can have the bed.”

“No, you take it. I’m fine down here,” you say stubbornly.

Loki sighs and doesn't argue as he gets into bed. An hour after the lights are out, you’re no closer to sleep than you were before. Every time you move, you end up knocking some part of your body onto the cold ground, and it’s starting to piss Loki off.

“Darling, come up here,” Loki finally says.

“No.”

“I will pick you up off this floor and tie you to the bed if you don’t get in it yourself.” If you’re being honest, the thought turns you on. He will make good on his promise so you stand up and transfer the pillows and blanket to the bed. You get in it but stay at the very edge. There is no way you’re going to be touching him in any way. “You’re being a child.”

“Shut up and go to bed.” You close your eyes to get some sleep when you feel his cold hand on your skin. Chills run down your spine but you’re not sure if it’s from how cold he is or if you’re turned on. You quickly slap his hand away before you get your answer. “Don’t touch me.”

Loki chuckles and lays on his back. An hour later, he can hear your soft snores that he finds adorable. Knowing he’s safe, he grabs your waist and pulls you into him. Subconsciously, you snuggle into him which makes him smile. He runs the back of his finger down your cheek gently so as to not wake you up.

“God, if only you knew what you did to me,” he mutters.

He has to find a way to make you see he’s not a bad guy, and he’ll do it for the rest of his life if that’s what it takes.

x

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#loki #loki x reader #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fiction #loki fan fiction #loki fan fic #loki angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel fiction

[wileys-russo]

Okay! Actually last one just something quick! Mary joining you on a family day or you joining her family for the day (like day trip to a farm or like men’s footie game or smth idk) and just getting crazy baby fever seeing her playing with your/her nieces and nephews

family day out II m.earps

"are you excited to see your family love?" mary asked as she drove, squeezing your hand and flashing you a quick smile before her eyes focused back on the road. "i'm excited to see the kids. the rest of that lot, less so!" you rolled your eyes playfully as mary chuckled.

"come on baby your brothers aren't that bad!" mary defended and you gave her a firm look. "okay they can be a little bit much." the keeper admitted with a sheepish smile as she arrived to the field, starting to look for a parking spot.

"oh just you wait till you see them in action today." you chuckled knowingly, mary doing a lap of the block and finding a park a short walk away, reversing in. "sideline coaches then?" mary winced as she shut off the engine.

"sideline coaches. for six year old girls!" you shook your head with a smile, slipping out of the car and taking marys hand as the two of you started to walk.

she'd fractured a finger in training which meant she was being rested for the weekend when united were playing away. as much as you'd tried to convince her to go and watch she decided she'd rather spend the weekend with you given you'd been away all week on a work conference.

"pitch four?" you frowned in confusion your eyes scanning over the text from your brother, about a dozen seperate little fields littering the oval in front of you. "oh is that your mum? liz!" mary cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted causing you to wince as several heads swung to look at the pair of you.

"see! told you. come on baby." mary interlocked your fingers again, ignoring the mumbles of people clearly recognizing her as she pulled you over to where your family was. "mary! what a lovely surprise." your mum beamed wrapping her in a tight hug, you'd swear she liked the older girl more than you sometimes.

"she didn't tell you i was coming? typical." mary tutted as you shoved her, hugging your mum next as mary moved to hug a few more of your family members she'd met before. "mum!" you hissed, pulling your hand away as the woman held it up clearly inspecting for a ring.

"just checking darling." you rolled your eyes. "if i was engaged you'd be one of the first people to know." you chuckled, shaking your head and returning to marys side as she chatted with your brothers.

"no nicholas put me down!" you squealed as your eldest brother scooped you up off your feet into a bear hug and shook you side to side, your other brother james ruffling your hair aggressively as you shot them both a glare and they dropped you back to your feet.

"honestly a couple of children." you huffed fixing your hair making mary smile and pull you into her side, kissing the side of your head. "where's the kids?" you questioned, unable to spot your neice or nephews anywhere. "gracie's warming up with her team and the boys are...somewhere." nick frowned, admittedly not having seen them for a while.

"dad of the year mate!" you patted him on the shoulder, wrapping his wife alice into a hug as she appeared. "oh there they are! boys!" nick shouted loudly, waving them over from where they were off climbing a tree in the car park.

the twins raced over as you braced, both of them crash tackling into you as you stumbled with a laugh but hugged the eight year olds tightly. "thing one, thing two." you teased as they started to bicker over who was which number.

"oh you brought aunty mary!" noah spotted your girlfriend off chatting with your mum, your heart melting as both the twins faces lit up and they let go of you sprinting over to see her. "she's good with them." james smiled beside you, both of you watching as your girlfriend slung jack over her shoulder and sprinted off, noah chasing after her with a laugh.

"she's great with kids, really really great." you sighed, your mind drifting a little about what she would be like with your own kids. "oi ground control to major tom!" you were snapped out of it as your brother smacked your forehead harshly.

"noah, jack, come here please!" you called, noticing a small crowd of people had gathered around your girlfriend wanting photos, watching her face shift as she glanced nervously to the twins clearly not wanting them photographed.

she looked up and mouthed an apology as you waved her off, distracting the boys as she busied herself meeting and greeting the small crowd. "not every day a lioness comes to our dear little club." nick teased as you carefully watched to make sure mary was okay, simply humming.

you saw her excuse herself, pointing to where you stood with your family with an apologetic smile, the crowd thankfully respectful of her wishes and leaving her be as she made her way back. "superstar returns!" james teased her as you punched him in the arm, mary only chuckling and apologising.

"no need love, it's part of your job. you're a fabulous role model for the young ones!" your mum assured her with a soft smile before turning back to her conversation with your aunt, applause starting as the girls started to line up and you all took your seats.

mary tugged you to sit on her lap on the camp chair she occupied, kissing your cheek making you smile. "proud of you." you caressed her cheek with a tender gaze. "for what?" she smiled but with a hint of confusion.

"being you. my mums not wrong, you're a brilliant player but you're such a positive public figure too. you're changing the game and the world for kids like gracie and her team, and i couldn't be prouder of you for it." you promised, leaning in to peck her lips and grinning as her cheeks blushed bright red.

"right enough of that then you'll make me cry." she dismissed as you chuckled, settling into her as her arms wrapped around you and the pair of you cheered alongside your family as the whistle blew for the game to start.

your niece caught your eye on the sideline, face lighting up as she gave you an aggressive wave and a toothy grin. "mary! can you play please?" noah popped up beside you holding a football with a hopeful look.

"go love. it's a round robin there's a few games today!" you encouraged, standing up as mary kissed your cheek appreciatively causing your nephew to gag. "ohh watch out, i'll come and kiss your cheek next!" mary warned, chasing after him with a grin as you shook your head and settled back down.

~

"you did so good gracie! two goals!!" you cheered, sweeping her up into a hug, her team having won three out of their four games today and your brothers being surprisingly well behaved had meant for a lovely day out.

"we've gotta work on your celebrations." you teased, tickling her and placing her down as she raced over to greet the rest of your family. your nephews still playing with mary on a free field you smiled seeing how good and patient she was with them, having mediated many an argument between the twins today.

you waved her over as she caught your eye, catching one of noahs shots and challenging them to a race back, taking off and letting the boys win as all three of them returned.

"hello!" you grunted as noah launched at you, clinging onto your leg and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. "what?" you laughed knowing he wanted something, catching mary squat down to hug gracie out of the corner of your eye once more melting your heart.

"can we pleasee have a sleepover at your house tonight? aunty mary said it was okay with her if it was okay with you!" he pleaded, hugging your leg even tighter as you chuckled and brushed his shaggy hair out of his eyes.

"if your mum and dad say yes then thats fine." you agreed as he cheered loudly and raced off to check in. "can i come too?" mary appeared beside you with gracie in her arms, tickling her sides as you grinned at her little giggles.

"you aren't tired babe? you've been running around today more than mary does in a whole season!" you teased, your girlfriend pinching your sides with her free hand for the comment. "goal keepers are the unsung heros of the team." gracie repeated making your girlfriend grin.

"very true! you're so wise gracie." mary gasped squeezing her tightly before putting her back down. "mm wonder where she's heard that from?" you tutted, shaking your head at the taller girl who grinned.

"no idea? kid just knows how it is i guess!" mary shrugged feigning innocence, tugging your body into hers and pecking your lips a few times. "now now you two there's children about! save it for the bedroom." your brothers teased as you flipped them off, hastily dropping your finger as the kids appeared, all cheering happily that they were allowed to sleepover.

"are you sure you're right with all three of them?" alice asked worriedly, both you and mary assuring you'd be fine. "gives the two of you a night yourselves as well. go have a nice dinner or something!" you smiled, agreeing the kids would go home to grab their things and your brother would drop them off in a couple of hours.

"yeah. piece of cake! we love kids."

~

turns out, it was not a piece of cake.

"ah gracie don't touch that please, it's hot babe." you warned, quick to grab her hand where it reached for the stove top where you were attempting to cook dinner, but with three lively kids running about it was anything but.

"nope! noah don't chase your brother with that please!" you were quick to snatch one of marys trophies out of his grasp and place it out of reach. "why!" he whined with a huff, stomping his foot. "it's sharp buddy, if you slip and fall you could hurt yourself." you put firmly but gently.

"yeah and if you break my trophy mate i'll hang you upside down from the stairs by your ankles!" mary pounced on him causing laughs to ring out as he called for help and mary grunted as now all three kids latched onto her.

"i told you the ice cream was a bad idea mary." you warned her with a scowl, the keeper wincing apologetically. "okay! new plan." she yelled out, both boys dropping off of her as gracie remained hugging her leg tightly.

"football in the backyard. first one to score against me gets to choose what movie we watch after dinner!" mary clapped, footsteps thundering outside as they raced one another out to the goals and you sighed in relief at the sudden peace and quiet.

"smells divine. i love you!" marys hands grabbed your face, pulling you into a kiss and mumbling an apology against your lips. "mm better be earps. go tire em out!" with that you swatted her bum with the wooden spoon in your hand.

"excuse me there is children running about here young lady! cheeky." mary gasped playfully, stealing one more kiss before running out to the backyard. without them underneath your feet you were able to focus a little more on dinner, still watching out with a tender smile at your girlfriend messing about in the backyard.

as you started to dish everything up again you couldn't help but allow your mind to wander about what it would be like with your own kids with mary, the two of you had been together two years now and in your late twenties you knew it was something you wanted.

"dinner!" you yelled out the back door once everything was dished up and ready on the table. "ah! shoes off, wash hands and wash....faces?" you spoke with a puzzled look at the dirt smeared over all four of them, your girlfriend included.

"yeah look the game got pretty intense babe, i'm talking euros final sort of stuff." mary whistled as you hummed, just smiling in amusement as the four of them left their shoes outside and raced off to the bathroom to wash up.

~

"oh yes! wiggle those hips noah thats it, full rotation!" you laughed from the kitchen, watching on as mary stood on the coffee table clapping. your nephews and neice danced around the living room below her, fed, showered and changed after much argument and fuss.

mary again allowing them to have ice cream after dinner their energy levels had surged, so she was now giving them a dance class in an attempt to tire them out as you washed everything up from dinner.

"very good gracie! love it love it." mary cheered, the song changing as you sighed knowing the catchy childrens tunes would now likely be stuck in your head for the next week.

"okay! movie time, aunty mary is exhausted." your girlfriend announced, shutting off the music after another twenty minutes and collapsing onto the lounge with a dramatic groan.

"right! jack you won, what are we watching?" you joined them, grabbing the remote as your nephew pondered for a moment. "peter pan!" he announced after a few seconds.

"your dads raising you right, fabulous choice."

~

the movie almost finished you'd gently moved a dead asleep gracie off your chest and stepped out for a moment to take a call from your brother who'd returned from dinner, assuring him everything was fine.

you agreed to drop the kids off around ten the next morning, mary having already promised to make them pancakes once they woke up in an attempt to calm them down earlier after dinner.

wishing him goodbye you returned to the living room, your heart absolutely melting into a puddle at the sight before you as you did. mary was dead asleep on the other end of the lounge, noah tucked in between her legs, jacks head on her lap and gracie tucked into her side.

snapping a few photos on your phone with a soft smile you took in the sight for a few more moments, turning off the tv and gently moving to pick gracie up, the young girl stirring but staying asleep as you gently carried her upstairs to bed.

tucking her in you kissed her forehead and returned downstairs. "mary, love." you whispered, running a hand through the keepers hair who thankfully was quite a light sleeper, her eyes fluttering open.

"hi sleepyhead." you chuckled as she stretched, careful not to move or wake the twins. "can you grab jack and i'll grab noah please?" she nodded tiredly as you lifted your nephew with a slight grunt, his head slumping to your shoulder.

mary flicked off the lights as you both carried the boys upstairs, tucking them in beside gracie, the three of them easily fitting into the king sized spare bed, gently closing the door with a soft click.

"you do know we'll be waking up with at least one of them in here yeah?" you smiled knowingly as the two of you collapsed into bed after brushing your teeth, mary only laughing in response.

"hi." the keeper smiled as you pressed your forehead to hers, exchanging a few sweet kisses and i love you's before she reached over to flick the lamp off.

"mary." you started, the older girl humming, your back tucked into her front as her arms held you tightly. "seeing you with the kids today...you're so great with them." you admitted, rolling onto your other side to look at her.

"i love them, they're great kids." mary smiled softly, running a hand through your hair fondly. "do you think about having kids one day?" you blurted out suddenly, cheeks flushing red as her eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sudden question.

"sorry that was very forward." you groaned, tucked your face into her neck in embarrassment as she only chuckled. "i do baby, all the time." mary admitted, nudging your head back out to look at her, soft smile on her features.

"really?" "really."

"so do i." you spoke, smile curling onto your own lips. "we could-" mary started but stopped. "no go on love." you encouraged, thumb stroking the curvature of her jaw.

"we could make an appointment to go speak to someone about everything, get some more information, if you wanted to." she hurried through her words, worried for your reaction if everything suddenly became real.

"i do my love, i really really do."

#mary earps x reader #woso x reader #woso #mary earps #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #woso fanfics

[stinkyme]

Hello! This is a request/idea made by a lovely anon, I hope you like it and enjoy it! :) <3

CW/TW: NSFW, fem!reader, established relationship, reader initiates sex, virgin!reader, first time, soft & mostly rough Dazai, vaginal fingering, a bit of spit for additional lube, praise, degrading, two orgasms for a reader (one purely vaginal), dacryphilia, creampie, mentions of aftercare, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

It goes without saying, but no one should be rough with you during your first time. If they don't stop even if you are telling them and in actual pain - punch the shit out of them. Stinging sensation is normal, even managable pain, but someone being rough? No. If someone is slow and you are still in a lot of pain - you are tense which means you need more foreplay and reassurance. Additional lube is always good! Also, keep in mind that a first couple of times may be uncomfortable. You won't lose your virginity that day and immediately be able to go wild. It takes a couple of times and different poses. If, even after couple of times, you are still in pain regardless of foreplay and lube - you may want to check if you have a condition. If you don't, it could be that their cock is a bit too big which just means they need to accomodate their thrusts so they don't reach your guts, lol

It's different for everyone, but remember to be safe, use condom & lube, if you feel uncomfortable and too tense or in too much pain - it's okay to stop. If someone is denying the pain you feel or being a dirty cunt - punch them really hard. (aim for the nose) Also, for a lot of people - riding the first time is more comfortable because they are in control of everything. Backshots are usually uncomfortable/too painful for a lot of people. Missionary is also good! Whatever works for you - go for it :) Aftercare is also important! Keep that in mind as well, you don't want to make someone feel used or shitty. If you are the virgin in question, don't be afraid to initiate aftercare if needed! If someone is a dick about it - punch them! :3 (or call me and I will) Aftercare is ok to have even if you didn't indulge in any BDSM activities :) aaand! Bleeding differs for everyone - some bleed more, some less, some not at all. As long as it's not excessive or to the point where bleeding isn't stopping - you will be okay! In cases mentioned - immediately stop, wait for a bit to see if bleeding will subside because there is a possible tear which may be able to heal on its own, depending on a size. To be safe, go to the doctor or ER if necessary. (never ever continue having sex after a tear, even with a condom on, it can lead to infections) Also, a lot of afabs/females lose hymen long before they indulge in sexual activities and bleeding isn't a sole indicator whether someone is a virgin or not. Don't shame people who are virgins, nor those who aren't and you shouldn't have sex w people who do this. Be safe and have fun :3

So, this whole oneshot is purely fictional and obviously innaccurate for most people

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)

The first time || Dazai Osamu x Reader

Dazai and you have been together for a while now. Your relationship was, surprisingly to some, stable and very loving. However, you haven't slept with each other yet, which was okay by both of you so far. This didn't mean there were no heavy makeout sessions, teasing neck kisses and bites, grabbing and humping or lack of desire. It just meant that it simply never went further. Partly because you weren't ready at the time and partly because of your busy work schedule.

You wanted to change that and you didn't feel too scared because you knew Dazai was experienced. Plus, he treated you with care and patience, so you felt safe and comfortable with him.

So, today, you decided to take things in your own hands as you were feeling ready...and quite needy to experience this with him. The two of you had a day off today, so this was perfect timing as well.

He finally arrives at your apartment and you are quick to jump on him, planting endless kisses all over his face. You feel a slight mixture of nervousness and excitement. But those feelings subside quickly by comfort as Dazai's hands support you by holding you under your thighs, a soft smile on his face.

"We saw each other yesterday, you clingy creature. Don't tell me you behave like this because you want something from me." he lets out a soft chuckle and you smile. Dazai knew you had something up your sleeve and you were hoping he would because that makes it easier.

"Maybe." you give him a little grin before you place more kisses over his face.

"You are hurting my feelings now." he says in an unserious voice with a hint of fake sadness. He carries you to your bedroom as you twirl his hair around your finger a little bit.

"Why did you assume it's something bad?" you tilt your head as he gently seats you on your bed, his hands letting go of your thighs.

"Is it not?" he gives you an intrigued gaze as he takes off his coat and vest, putting them both over a chair. You slowly stand up and his expression switches to slight surprise as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

Your hands move down his bandaged neck, fingers sliding between the small cracks they could find. His hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue brushes over your bottom lip. He begins gently sucking on it as you slowly unwrap his bandages, feeling confident.

He lets out a soft whimper, teeth holding your bottom lip for a moment before he deepens the kiss, his tongue finding yours quickly. Your kiss becomes lickerish, deep and sensual, his hands gripping your waist tightly. You drop the bandages on the floor behind him and hesitantly move your hands down, sneaking your fingers underneath his shirt. You hesitantly lift it up as the kiss becomes breathless, making Dazai pull away for a moment as he gives you a sly gaze.

"You are more bold than usual." he gives you a little smile, voice soft, but teasing. His remark makes you shy as you keep his shirt in place, revealing only up to his bellybutton.

"Shying away already? I didn't tell you to stop." he whispers in a silky tone, observing your reactions. You lean in, wanting to kiss him in order to help your overwhelming thoughts, however, he leans away, giving you a sly smile. He gently puts his hands on yours and begins lifting his shirt up with you. He pulls it over his head, revealing his slim, but fairly masculine figure to you. He lets go of your hands, his gaze having a lingering mixture of teasingness and trickiness.

"Just like this! Easy, right?" he says in a more regular tone as you drop his shirt on the ground, eyes shamelessly lusting over his figure.

"You've taken a shirt off before, right? How come you are so shy with me, hm?" his tone is silky and teasing. He tilts his head, leaning closer to your face as his gaze traces over it. You lock eyes with him, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Well...uh, I did. Mine." you nod, hoping he would take the hint.

"What? You mean others have been letting you take your clothes off all by yourself? Unacceptable!" he says with a hint of drama in his voice as he snakes his fingers beneath your shirt, slowly rolling it up. You feel a wave of embarrassment and put your hands on his wrists, stopping him from moving further up before you tell him.

"No...that's not what I mean. What I mean is...there are no others." your voice is steady as you give him a meaningful look. Dazai blinks a couple of times, processing the information.

"You mean...you are a-?" he stops talking, unsure if he got the right hint.

"A virgin. Yes." you nod, voice steady and calm, even though you were a bit scared would this change something. You let go of his wrists, waiting for a reaction. Dazai keeps his gaze on you, seemingly dumb-founded at the moment. Quickly, his expression changes to an intrigued one, his fingers resting underneath your shirt.

His fingertips delicately brush over your skin as he leans closer, lips shadowing over your neck, not touching it yet. He leans closer to your ear, letting his lips touch it and moving over the thin, shell-like part of it in slow, up and down motion. The feather-like sensation sends shivers down your spine, furthering even more as he gives the sensitive skin a kitten lick.

"So, I would be your first?" he whispers, voice smooth and silky, but with hints of excitement.

"Yeah...are you mad?" you whisper back, a bit shy.

"Mad? God no, I am quite happy and honored, to be honest." he continues whispering, letting out a small whine in your ear as he takes your hand and puts it on his hard, still clothed cock. He makes you grasp it and you gasp in slightly.

"Can you feel how happy I am, pretty one?" he moves lower, finally placing soft kisses over your neck, going slow and making sure you feel each one. You feel a wave of heat spread through your thighs and lower tummy as he uses the tip of his tongue to trail over your sweet flesh, going from the base of your neck all the way up behind your ear. You let out a soft whimper as he slides his other hand between your shorts and panties, slowly pulling it down.

You can feel his cock throb inside your palm as his tongue moves over the middle of your neck and to the other side. He leaves small, wet kisses all over your skin, before he settles for a bit, sucking on a small portion of your flesh. Your body becomes a bit shaky, a soft whimper escaping your throat as his sucking becomes greedier, more intense. He lets your shorts drop down on the floor and faintly brushes over your waistline with his fingertips.

He slowly moves forward, making you move as well until you hit the edge of the bed. His hand moves on your lower back, caressing it gently before it slides further down, squeezing your ass. Dazai lets go of your skin, kissing the portion he was sucking on just a moment ago. He plants soft kisses all over the side of your jaw, finally letting go of your hand and moving it between your panties and skin. He uses both of his thumbs, sliding them down your hips and thighs as he moves lower as well. He lets your panties drop on the floor and slowly pulls up your shirt, your body following to make it easier.

He takes your shirt off, observing your body with a needy, almost hungry gaze as he unclips your bra with one hand, sliding it down your arms. You feel small shivers run through your body as he keeps observing you for a moment. His hands fall on your hips again as he leans close, placing kisses all over your chest area. In-between the kisses, he bites on your skin a bit roughly a couple of times, earning a soft moan from you.

He makes sure to follow up with small licks afterwards, to soothe the sensations. He gently pushes you on the bed and you adjust yourself, laying down properly. Dazai is quick to follow, taking his pants and boxers off. Your eyes widen a bit as you see his exposed cock, not too thick, but definitely making up for it in length.

He gives you a little smile as he adjusts himself between your legs, towering over you while doing so. He continues where he stopped, as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, sucking on it a bit harshly. You let out a soft whimper, back arching a bit as your hands wrap around his neck gently.

You can feel his cock slightly pressing into your lower tummy and it makes your body fill up with warmth. Dazai moves to your other nipple, kissing in the middle of your chest before he does, and gives it a soft, kitten lick. He starts drawing small circles on it with the tip of his tongue, earning another soft moan of yours.

"So sensitive already." he whispers into your skin before he gives one quick, harsh suck on your nipple, squeezing a little gasp out of your throat. He moves lower, planting kisses all over your tummy, gently biting from time to time. He reaches your lower tummy, placing a few more kisses mixed with a few licks of his tongue before he straightens himself.

He spreads your legs, one of his hands resting on your knee as he uses the fingertips of his other one to softly brush over your clit. Your hips twitch immediately, a faint whimper slipping past your lips.

"Don't tell me you've never done this to yourself before." he tilts his head, voice a bit more serious.

"I have, it just…" you pause for a moment, finding the words. In the meantime, Dazai slides his fingers to your inner lips, slowly rubbing them up and down, producing small sticky sounds as your precum coats his fingertips. You let out a louder whimper as his fingertips trace back to your clit, drawing small circles. Your hips twitch as he speeds up his movement, back arching into the mattress.

"Didn't feel as good?" he continues your sentence in a teasing, but low tone. You nod quickly as small whimpers escape your throat. Dazai's grip on your knee is firm as his movement on your clit sends pleasant, tingling sensation through your body. You feel a warm, painful knot quickly forming inside your lower tummy as more precum leaks down your pussy.

Dazai's gaze is fixated on your pussy, the way your hips twitch from bare touching makes his cock make a twitch of its own. He slowly slides his fingers down, aligning the two of them with your inner lips. He rubs small circles as his gaze grows greedy. He slowly slides them inside your drooling cunt, a stinging sensation making you close your eyes tightly as you let out a soft moan.

"Just relax, can you take two for me?" he asks softly as he slides his fingers in and out of your cunt very slowly at first. You nod as you breathe out, relaxing your body as much as possible. Dazai rubs small circles on your knee, using his thumb, relaxing you further. 

"Of course you can. You want to be good for me, don't you?" he continues, making you focus on his voice as the stinging sensation is still there. You nod again, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"Good job pretty. Just keep on being good and I will make sure you enjoy yourself." his voice is silky and soft. He gradually speeds up his movement, making your hips twitch as you feel your pussy stretching. The bitter-sweet sensation of pleasure and mild pain makes you gasp out.

"I will turn you into a proper little slut soon enough, I promise." he says in a sly, lower tone as he leans to your other knee and places a soft kiss on top of it. Your pussy tenses up around him, slightly clenching his fingers. 

"You like that? You want to be a little slut just for me?" he gives you a little smile, resting his cheek on your knee as his hand keeps the other one in place. You leak more precum around his fingers, a soft whimper slipping past your lips. You give him a small nod and his smile grows bigger, but seems cunning.

"You are a filthy little thing. If I didn't know better, I would assume you did this many times before." he lets out a breathy chuckle as he speeds up the movement of his fingers even more. They slide in and out of you fairly easily now, but you can still feel them stretching you out.

The stinging sensation subsides mostly by intriguing pleasure. You let out mellow moans, your back still arching slightly as Dazai focuses his movement on your g-spot, sending sweet jolting sensations through your body.

His fingers curl just a bit, each pump in and out making his fingertips rub your sweet spot perfectly. You clench around his fingers, intense warmth spreading through your body. He slowly moves his head away from your knee, straightening himself above you as he brings his other hand to your lower tummy. He places his palm on top of it, putting a bigger pressure on it as his thumb finds your clit, slowly moving up and down over it. 

"You know what's the cutest thing about virgins?" he gives you a half-lidded gaze as he speeds up the thrust of his fingers, earning louder moans from you as his thumb switches to circular movement. You feel your lower tummy burn from sweet sensations, warmth spreading underneath your skin in quick waves.

"You tend to cum easily. It's so hard not to take advantage of that." he whispers, voice slightly trembling as he feels your pussy clench and your precum coat his fingers more. You let out a sharp gasp out as your thighs start to shake, an immense amount of teasing tingles making your heart beat faster.

You feel your orgasm coming quickly in a few mild waves. Dazai keeps up his movement, speeding up the thrusts of his fingers even more, relentlessly pressuring your sweet spot as his thumb pleases all needy spots of your clit. You feel a mixture of pain and pleasure, a few dim moans escaping your lungs as your release builds up quickly, almost reaching its peak. Dazai's gaze is greedy and hazy, head slightly tilted to the side as he observes your pretty face and reactions he was earning.

You tense for a moment as your orgasm reaches its peak, letting out a loud gasp followed by sweet moans as your body relaxes. Dazai keeps his movement, sending small jolts through your body as you feel overly sensitive. Your orgasm slowly melts away, sensations a bit more intense.

You let out a few quick, breathy whimpers and he extracts his fingers as well as moves away from your clit. You take a deep breath in as he adjusts himself between your legs, gently tapping your clit with the tip of his cock.

"You did so well for me. You can take more, right?" he asks in a silky tone, sliding his tip over your clit and inner lips. You shiver, giving him a small "yes" in a shaky tone. He lets a thicker string of spit fall down on his cock and pumps it a couple of times, coating it and making it wet.

"Such a good little thing." he praises as he aligns his cock with your entrance, slowly sliding it inside. You let out a sharp moan, your pussy tightening around him as he stretches you out. He leans his face close to yours, using his elbows as leverages next to your face and letting out a needy whine as his pelvic area kisses yours.

"Relax a bit." he whispers, and you try to untense your lower tummy. He places a soft kiss on your lips as he slowly slides his cock out, only leaving the tip inside, his shaky whimper spreading warm breath on your lips. You let out a sharp moan as he thrusts back inside with more force, suddenly and roughly stretching you out. A soft whine slips past his lips.

"So tight. You are making it hard for me to be gentle with you." he whispers, voice shaky as he begins thrusting in a faster pace. Your thighs tense up, more filthy sounds escaping your throat as the mix of pain and pleasure convulses your lower tummy. You put your hands on his shoulders, gripping tightly as he speeds up even more, already drunk in pleasure.

"You don't mind, right?" he asks in a steadier tone, gaze needy and sharp.

"N-no! I can take it!" you choke out as his cock keeps sending jolting sensations through your body. 

"You are such a filthy little whore already." his words come out shaky as he speeds up even more, his cock relentlessly stimulating your sensitive spots inside. His balls roughly slap the underside of your pussy, making it feel warm and tingly, almost like it's bruising. You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, incoherently gasping in and out, each time his cock reaches the deepest spot inside of you.

His thrusts are long and heavy, but he gradually shortens them, making them quick and sharp. It stimulates your g-spot without a break, making your pussy clench and relax around him. Dazai lets out a few whimpers and whines of his own, his thrusts steady and precise regardless. He slowly leans away from you, placing his hands behind your knees and pushing them to your chest.

You choke out a breathy whine as he angles his hips a bit, reaching deeper than before, making sensations unbearable. Tears form inside your eyes as his strokes are quick and rough, vigorously pounding into you. Dazai lets out a silky whine, cursing under his breath as his grips tighten. His skin slaps yours without a break, leaving a vibrating sensation behind as his cock keeps pressuring all of your sensitive spots inside.

It feels pleasurable, too pleasurable, but unbearable. You grip the sheets tightly as your eyes fill up with even more tears. You let out a few snivels, tears quickly rolling down your cheeks as Dazai keeps his pace, not showing much sympathy.

"Ah, is my pretty little thing overwhelmed? You said you can take it." his voice is surprisingly steady and calm, opposing his unbearable thrusts. A few more little snivels escape your lips as more tears roll down your cheeks.

"Sorry pretty, tears don't work on me in the way you'd imagine. Quite the opposite, actually." he gives you a small smile you can barely see through clouded vision, your snivels turning into moans as his cock twitches inside of you, stimulating you even more.

"You are taking me so well, such a good little slut. Keep it up." his tone is sly as he presses your knees into your chest even more, rolling his hips into yours in a quick, merciless manner. He lets out a long, pathetic whine as even more tears roll down your cheeks, pleasure too overwhelming. Your lips part, a little string of drool glistening over them as weak, breathy moans slip past them. Your body feels sore, mind hazy as you get drunk on pleasure yourself. 

"Your state is truly pathetic to look at, you are so easy to break. Such a filthy, dumb slut." his voice is a bit shaky, mixing with his own moans. Your cunt tightens around him even more, an intense heat spreading through your whole body as his cock keeps on stimulating the deepest and sweetest spots.

Your arms feel weak, hands barely gripping the sheets anymore as only moans can come out of your throat. You feel a heavy knot inside your tummy, more tears rolling down your cheeks. Dazai swiftly spreads your legs, moving them away from your chest and placing them on each side of his hips as he makes a deep thrust, reaching the deepest spot inside. You gasp out, more desperate snivels following.

Dazai leans his face close to yours, gently licking the tears away as his hips speed up even more. You weakly wrap your arms around his neck, feeling shaky and sore. He keeps on collecting your tears with his tongue as if they were a reward, softly kissing your cheeks after. Your lower tummy convulses in heavy, warm cramps as you feel another orgasm approaching. Dazai's cock pulsates inside of you, sending more vibration-like sensations to your g-spot as he feels you clench around him. Your moans become louder, more intense just like your pleasure.

"Gonna cum for me again? What a greedy little bitch you are." he chuckles, his voice getting drowned by his own moans as you leak more precum, edging him closer to his own release. Your fingernails dig into the nape of his neck harshly, earning a high-pitched whine from him. A strong wave of tingles spreads inside your lower tummy as you reach your orgasm, breathy moans escaping your lungs. Your thighs shake and Dazai doesn't slow down, his skin roughly slapping into yours, his cock not giving you a single break.

Your chest feels heavy and light at the same time, eyes rolling in the back of your head as your climax reaches its peak. Dazai places a sloppy kiss on your lips as he keeps up his relentless pace, his cock twitching even more. Both of your moans, whimpers and whines fill up the room as his pace becomes a bit messy, sharp gasp escaping his throat as he finally reaches his own orgasm.

A few thick whips of cum fill you up, sensation unfamiliar and odd, but still making your body shiver as you let out a faint moan. Dazai keeps on letting out breathy whimpers, kissing your chest to muffle them as his pace slows down. 

He slowly fucks his cum into you, his breathing calming down quicker than yours.

"You did so well, you were so good for me." he whispers into your skin, planting more kisses on your chest as he slowly pulls out, making sure he doesn't make a mess. You let out a soft whimper as your pussy feels oddly empty. Dazai rolls to the side, bringing you closer to him. You put your leg over his hip, face snuggling into his chest. He kisses your forehead and as you calm down, he finally speaks.

"Are you in pain?" his voice is soft.

"No, not really. But I am sleepy." you whisper, slightly yawning as you become aware of your own tiredness.

"That's normal, but we should take a bath first." he gently brushes his fingertips over your cheek and you nod, kissing his chest.

After whispering sweet nothings to each other, loving words and little confessions, you take a long, relaxing bath together, enjoying each other in many more ways both of you desperately needed.

The End :) <3

I hope you liked it and enjoyed it! :) <3

Thank you so much for all the love and support, it means a lot to me! :D <3

Forehead kisses :3

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai x reader smut #dazai osamu x reader smut #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai smut #dazai bsd #dazai osamu x you #dazai osamu x y/n #bsd smut #bsd imagines

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

You mentioned that snakes in Africa are under-prioritised, and that you did your internship there. Why are they under-prioritised compared to snakes from other places? Are they just under-prioritised in research, or in other aspects like care/treatment/etc as well?

Thank you for inviting me onto my soapbox!

Snakes from Africa are historically under-prioritized in herpetological research, but that certainly can skew towards how we care for African snakes as well. This is down to two major factors.

Historically, more funding has been allocated to research projects focused on describing new snakes in the Americas. Despite it being realistically more difficult to find and describe new species in, say, the Amazon, there's a common belief that "we've seen pretty much everything there is to find in Africa." We haven't!

The field of herpetology has historically ignored the testimonies of African people. It took decades for snakes in the Atractaspid family (the stiletto snakes) to be described as anything more than a single species because academia ignored the people who lived in their range telling us they were there and there are observable differences. Like, herpetologists even just a couple decades ago were going over, saying "hey what do you know about this," the locals would be like "oh yeah there are like fifteen of those here's what they look like" and then the researchers would be like "neat thanks" and just. Not take any of that into account. Just perpetually running all accounts from Africans through a billion layers of racism and mythologizing everything they say and it's ridiculous.

There are so many misconceptions even in academia about African snakes it is insane. I have had other herpetologists tell me to my face that ball pythons are only "in a narrow strip of Africa" and it's like.

I understand if you have no idea how big Africa is that seems "narrow" to you. But that's a wide range of habitats and conditions across a huge area and we need to account for that in the research of the diversity of python species and their adaptations. There's just an insane misconception that snakes from Africa all need "similar care" even though this is a huge continent with huge variations in environments.

"Oh, it's actually okay to keep African pythons in less humid conditions, Africa isn't humid"

Not all of Africa is has the same climate, for one, and not all of Africa is like just a desert. Ball pythons, for example, like it humid because in the wild they like to curl up inside termite mounds, where it's hot and humid.

You know, termite mounds, these things. Tell me again that it's okay to keep ball pythons in tiny boxes with no enrichment or climbing space.

This makes me so mad it's not even funny. I had a great time in South Africa but all my mentors (I was with the African Snakebite Institute, check 'em out, they're a great resource) were constantly having to fight for funding and dealing with misconceptions.

#not a rating #herpetology

[fancyfeathers]

okay cause normalized yandere AUs are sort of my thing here are my 3 AM thoughts I had last night about Genshin in this AU

Okay first off cause Mondstadt’s whole thing is freedom I think keeping a darling or even this sort of love would be looked down upon if not entirely illegal. So in this AU I think Mondstadt would be the only normal place, a sanctuary for anyone. Also, taking inspiration from @writing-genshin-obsession (go check them out, I love their thoughts) idea on Venti sensing when someone’s freedom is taken, I think Venti would have very strong feelings and do his absolute best to keep those in Mondstadt who came for protection safe and free.

Liyue on the other hand I think would be a lot less kind. I see this place deeply rooted in its traditions so I would think things like an arranged marriage would be extremely common and even encouraged. A contact that doesn’t just bind two people but two families, so if that darling wants a divorce oh that’s fine, but it’ll effect your entire family and I don’t think they will like that. I think for Zhongli’s darling, they have been married for hundreds of years, they want to leave him so badly but he has broken down everything they have, crack by crack, deal by deal, so now the only rock they have is the archon who has completely destroyed their life outside of him.

Inazuma is a bit hard to place, I think it would be semi normal, like a mixture of normal couples and unhealthy relationships. Like characters like Ayato would keep a darling but I don’t think characters like Kazuha would. I do think the Grand Narukami Shrine would almost be a sanctuary like Mondstadt is, well only if you are a shrine maiden and only if you don’t catch the eye of the local archon.

Sumeru is hard to place, I do think it would be encouraged and people in power would most definitely have darlings. I do think many of these pairs would come along via being students of the  Akademiya, young love as they say. But I do think yandere like Alhaitham or Kaveh would like darlings of lesser intelligence of them, not completely dumb but ones who may be clueless so they can explain these little things to them, like why darlings are safe with people like them or just plain out belittling them for how little they know and tell them that they would never survive without them.

Fontaine it would definitely feel normal, for lack of a better word. Oh you’ll be courted like normal, dates, flowers, gifts, and so on, all out in public, every relationship looks healthy. Couple will court, date, marry and then it’s too late. The toxicity of the relationship will show and when one asks for a divorce a yandere like Neuvillette will only sigh and tell them to calm down before revealing that divorce is not legal in this nation. Just be a good a spouse and look pretty and you’ll be fine.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere zhongli #yandere ayato #yandere raiden shogun #yandere alhaitham #yandere kaveh #yandere neuvillette

[hyeque]

ah...i want to sit at tsukki’s feet while he looks down his nose at me and says mean things😔 or have him grip my thigh under the table and mutter filthy things to me while we’re out with other people😣

the last laugh [tsukishima kei] [nsfw]

synopsis: in which you get punished for tsukishima’s teasing

notes: anon…this man would be a menace,,, he truly would

warnings: semi-public sex, fingering, blowjob, humiliation, kei is mean this time, orgasm denial, degradation, overstimulation, squirting, female!reader

upon choosing to date tsukishima, the one question that your friends asked you the most was ‘how difficult is it to date “someone like him?”’, and you only answer that it is in fact not difficult to date him at all. that most people get his character wrong. they misunderstand him.

and it’s true in his actions. you started getting the question less when people actively saw how sweet he was with you. seen in making you walk on the inside of the sidewalk, his gentle, sweet kisses to your temple when greeting you. seen when his hands hover protectively over you at all times to make sure you’re okay. seen in him tugging his extremely large jacket over your shoulders without hesitation when you complain that you’re cold (even though he told you already to bring your own jacket multiple times). and seen in how he’ll nudge you with his foot and bring you food and water because he knows you haven’t eaten anything properly.

but boy does he make it hard to defend him at times.

once a well established couple, pda—though subtle—is not foreign between the two of you to all your friends.

and kei is, well, huge. so it’s only natural for his large form to move into your personal space. your knees often touch, and skin presses against one another. the smell of his aftershave and body wash evades your nose occasionally, and you can feel the deep timber of his voice when he speaks or laughs at something said by someone.

so, currently while seated at a bar with him and your friends, all of your senses are overriding your mind. you can’t help it. he’s pretty and gorgeous, and the fitted clothing he’s wearing today isn’t helping your thoughts at all. your brain thinks nothing shortly but just kei kei kei and you’re hoping and praying that he doesn’t take notice how effected you are by how close he is.

but of course, look at who you’re dating.

his golden brown eyes happen to glance over, noting just how you’re subtly squeezing your thighs together. something he knows you only do when you’re feeling especially needy.

he rests one large hand on your leg and you shiver, knowing the innocent implications behind the gesture will soon turn nasty. he gently traces his calloused thumb over your skin to get you to relax, and like always, it works.

a faint smirk appears on his face, but it can easily be played off as him laughing at something stupid shoyo did. but you both know it’s because of how easy and pliant you are for him. his hand shoves it’s way between your thighs, and you glance at him, hoping he’ll get the memo to stop. but the man simply isn’t paying you any attention. his eyes are focused on something being said by hitoka. you can’t move very much away from him either, because on the other side of you is a wall.

you squirm in a way to shake off his hand, but his grip on your thigh tightens and he pinches you in warning. you yelp a little at the pain and a few heads turn in your general direction.

your name is called and you reassure that you’re fine, you just bumped your knee under the table. you also throw in something about the room being a little cold, and that you’re just adjusting yourself to get comfortable.

tsukishima leans into you and rests his hand on your forehead to “check for a fever”. meanwhile, his other hand is pushing your already slick-stained panties to the side. a sharp inhale from him and you know he’s turned on now as well.

you whine quietly and he shoots you a quick glare when you try to touch the bulge in his jeans. he removes your hand before he leans down to act as if he needs to say something to you.

“are you going to be able to sit still and behave? or do i need to teach your dumb cunt a lesson privately?” he murmurs. his fingers are now brushing over your clit, your slick coating the offending appendages.

your heart skips a beat, and you know he’s serious by his words, so you only answer quickly and accordingly. “please don’t stop…i-i will behave, i promise.”

his dark expression instantly brightens, and your sweet boyfriend has returned. “good.” he kisses your temple, gently patting your head.

you think that’s the end of it, but no. there’s no warning when tsukishima slips two fingers inside of you and you bite your fist to control your noise. he looks unfazed for someone who’s knuckles deep in you. if you listen closely, though, there’s the lewdly noise of squelching from his fingers moving vigorously.

you plaster on a smile as one of your friends looks over with concern. but it’s hard to concentrate on the group conversation with now four of tsukishima’s fingers in you.

and his foul mouth doesn’t make it any better.

“jesus christ,” he mutters, eyes flickering back to you, “are you really this soaked right now? in front of all our friends? are you not ashamed?”

he doesn’t expect an answer back, and personally, he’d rather it stay that way. because then he can play all his cards how he wants to.

a grin appears on his face when he curls his fingers and you keen quietly, instantly hushed by him. “better not leave a mess on this booth we’re sitting in right now.” and he pinches your clit, sending a roll of pleasure through you.

no one questions the closeness between the two of you. tsukishima only acts as if you’re snuggled closer to him for warmth based on your earlier statement. everyone’s sitting far apart enough that no one can see what’s happening under the table.

and you can feel yourself close. he can, too. there’s no doubt with the way you’re starting to tighten up on him, pelvic muscles twitching and contracting. you subtly move your hips against his hand while sneaking glances, and he knows. he knows you’re about to gush all over him. the only problem now is, will he actually let you c—

“ew, suckyshima. are you really feeling up your girlfriend right in front of everyone right now?” shoyo sneers.

this halts both of you, and you feel your eyes nearly brim with tears as your orgasm slips from your tsukishima’s fingertips.

how hinata sees any of it? you don’t know. tsukishima doesn’t either. but maybe if either one of you realized the fact that tangerine dropped his silverware beneath the table, you would’ve stopped.

tsukishima blinks, his expression unchanging, but the twitch in his brow and reddening of his ears is unmissable. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“yeah? then show us your hand.” tobio smirks, leaning back. when the blonde makes no move to, both pairs of the quick attack duo holler with laughter. hitoka and tadashi simply sit, flustered and beet red.

it’s not helpful that both of you are embarrassed in this situation. in fact, you’re a little peeved at the whole thing. the teasing, your ruined orgasm, hinata and kageyama’s laughing.

so if anyone is going to get the last laugh, it’s going to be you.

“i told him to stop,” you let slip, pouting, “but he couldn’t keep his hands off of me and leave me alone. his horniness is uncontrollable sometimes, sorry.”

it’s quiet for a moment before the table ends up hollering with laughter. hinata and kageyama waste no more time to make more jabs and even yamaguchi joins in, followed by small giggles from yachi.

you start to laugh, but the aura besides you is one that has become…chilling. you see tsukishima sitting in an eerie silence. a small smile on his face.

and in his mind, you know he’s seething, because a quiet kei is worse than one having angry outbursts.

it was one thing for him to be laughed at by hinata, but kageyama? that’s the last straw.

the blonde simply swipes you up by the arm before he’s pulling you out the booth, tugging you forcibly to the restroom. the group watches in awe as he escorts you inside.

once the door is locked, hands and lips pin you to it. you gasp at the assault taking place on your neck. tsukishima's tongue glides across your neck before he's sucking and biting at your skin and you hear the telltale noise of his buckle coming undone.

your nerves get the better of you and you say, “h-here? but someone will—”

he shoves his fingers in your mouth, and to no surprise, you can taste yourself on them. “no, no. you want to embarrass me, so now you don’t get the privilege of having your punishment done completely privately. you think i care about anyone hearing you moan? because i could care less right now. for all i know, they should be thanking me for being able to hear something as angelic as your orgasms.”

he’s biting at your collarbone now, wasting no time to move in on your breasts. he pulls back and huffs out a laugh. “it’s almost like you wanted to be caught. when you know how hinata and kageyama look at you. who’d knew you go to such whoreish lengths.”

kei knows his words aren’t the most logical, but he doesn’t care. he’s provoking you the way you provoked him.

“y-you started it!” you blurt, feeling your face heat up as you cover your mouth. tsukishima’s brown eyes glowered as they focus on you.

his large hand rests gently on your neck, the grip only slightly tight. "little girl, you're really testing my patience today."

he pushes you to the floor, his hand titling your chin up. “maybe if you didn’t decide to think with your pussy, you wouldn’t be in this position right now.” he thumbs your cheek, wiping away your frustrated tears.

“now come on, put that smart mouth of yours to good use. we don’t have all day.” he huffs.

and you’re trembling because you can see the very clear and very visible bulge protruding from his jeans.

pulling tsukishima’s dick out, you’re instantly reminded of what backs up his cocky nature. weighing heavily in your hands, his cock throbs under your touch. he’s not as lanky as he used to be, but in the past there had been jokes here and there wondering where all the food he ate went if not to his muscles.

and sure enough, the answer is right in front of you.

kei quirks a brow, smirking down at you. “what? cock got your tongue? you haven’t even put it in your mouth yet.”

biting your tongue, you only take him in your mouth, making him swear under his breath as you accommodate fitting him all down your throat.

his hand moves to the back of your scalp and gently guides your head movements. he closes his eyes, sighing with content when reopening them to look at you. “yeah, just like that, princess. suck my cock just how i taught you.”

the pet name makes you gush and you go to slip a hand between your legs, but have it swatted away by him.

“none of that. you don’t get to touch my cunt.” he snaps before grabbing your hands, “now use your hands on my balls.”

you comply, easily playing with them just how he likes. a pretty moan escapes him and you nearly roll your eyes back at how ethereal kei looks. a pretty blush covering his pale skin all from his face, torso, and hips. there’s nothing like bringing such a big man to his knees.

mischievously, you suckle on his tip, knowing how sensitive he is there and how easy it is to make him cum. even if you can’t get off, you can still get something out of this situation, and you’re dying to have his cum in your mouth. your tongue laps over his fat mushroom tip, not daring to miss his frenenlum.

he gasps, his moans stuttering before he realizes what you’re doing. “b-brat, who told you to do that—” he hisses, pulling you off of him. you only stare up at him innocently.

he glares, scoffing, “you haven’t learned anything, have you?”

“i dunno, maybe you can show me?” you respond, batting your eyes.

his restraint snaps and he shoves his cock back in your mouth. slowly he starts to fuck your face. your hands fly to grasp onto his thighs and soon the sound of your gasps and gagging ricochet off the bathroom walls.

tsukishima watches as your drool leaks down his cock and you eyes tear up. “whining about how i ‘started it’ when we both know your slutty cunt is what started it in the first place. i can’t take you anywhere without you getting overly horny. it’s annoying. who’s horniness is uncontrollable now?”

you can only sit there and take it as he repeatedly hits the back of your throat with his fat tip. whining quietly, you dig your nails into his thighs.

“your precious boyfriend just wanted to take care of you, and the thanks i get is you embarrassing me? i shouldn’t even be letting you suck me off right now. you're enjoying this way too much.” he pulls away again, and you nearly cry, mouth feeling lost and empty without him in it.

“kei, p-please…i’m sorry, okay?” you desperately reach out for him, but he moves away.

he fake pouts, “‘p-please’, why? why shouldn’t i just finish on your face?”

“because i want to make you feel good. i’m sorry, i’ll make it up to you.” you plead, eyes tearing up. “i’ll make you feel so good, i want to!”

he doesn’t admit that your teary eyes do something to him, and only grunts. “then you better make it worth my time.”

and you do. you do like your life depends on it. and you can tell he’s having a hard time holding back his moans.

“fuck, baby, you’re going to make me cum. see how your mouth is better suited for things like this instead of talking? you’re making me feel so good right now. such a good fucking girl.” praises slipping effortlessly from his mouth when you make him feel over the moon.

his hips are stuttering and thighs are shaking. “s-shit, where do you want it, huh? are you gonna be good and swallow it all?”

you nod rapidly, heart pounding loud in your chest as you finally, finally get what you want.

he moans loudly but is careful not to say your name. he doesn’t want to give you that kind of satisfaction. suddenly thick, hot ropes of his cum are being shot down your throat. he watch’s in awe as you gulp it all down with barely no problems. he’ll never get tired of your sinful mouth.

he’s panting and zipping himself back up before looking down at you and kneeling. “lemme see.”

you choke. “w-what?”

“let me see the mess you made, dummy.” he rolls his eyes before instructing you to grab onto him. with your legs thrown over his shoulders, his face meets your heat. you twitch as his hot breath fans over you and your heart hammers loudly in your chest. his golden eyes are cold. menacing. calculating as he stares up at you. you only wonder what he has planned for you both.

“listen up. i know you’re soaked down here, so i’m going to do you a favor and lick you clean with my tongue. you hold back any moans, and i stop. you touch me anywhere than my shoulders, and i stop. got it?” he asks, squeezing your thighs gently.

you nod rapidly.

he clicks his tongue. “no, verbally. say it out loud.”

“i understand, sir.” you nod, shivering.

he kisses your inner thigh, humming with satisfaction. “good. shouldn’t be letting any of this go to waste.” he mumbles, before moving his mouth onto your cunt. his tongue laps over the lace of your stained panties and he groans, tongue probing your dripping holes.

“kei—ahh, feels so good!” you cry, fingers itching to grab onto his blond locks but miserably groping the door.

your musk seeps through the lace and he grunts impatiently, tearing the lace with his teeth to reach your middle.

you have no time to complain when his tongue is suddenly deep inside of you, his lips wrapping around your now exposed bud, and fingers moving in coordination with his mouth.

a silent curse in your head goes to tsukishima for being a volleyball player and also dexterous with his hands. it doesn’t take you along time to cum on his tongue and suddenly you’re sobbing his name just how he wanted you to.

“mmm good job, baby,” he thumbs your cheek, “but i don’t think you were loud enough. i know you can get more vocal than that.”

instantly, he’s face first back into your pussy for more. he’s much more ruthless this time, and there’s a borderline crazed expression on his face, almost like you’re a toy and he’s figuring you out.

“m’sensitive!” you whine, body trembling. you almost push him away, but remember his warning words from earlier. you only can dig your nails into the palm of your hand to cope.

“yeah? and when has that ever been my problem? you taste even better when you’re overstimulated anyways.” he noted before burying his face right back into you. he’s groaning as your slick runs down his chin. his glasses are surely a mess but he doesn’t need to see anything—hell he doesn’t need to breathe either. not while in your cunt with your pretty thighs around his neck.

it’s embarrassing how close your high is again, but when kei knows every part of you like the back of his hand, there’s no reason to be.

“k-kei, p-please, i’m going to—” but with one flick of his fingers, you’re gushing and squirting onto his face. you squeal his name, whining and begging—for him to stop or keep going, you don’t know. you’re delirious by this point.

he cleans you up, fixing your dress and hair. there’s nothing to do about the bruises along your neck, chest and knees, but tsukishima likes it that way.

“can you stand?” he asks, noting your wobbly legs. you know he’s not really concerned but just finding ways to stoke his ego. especially in front of kageyama and hinata.

“just barely.” you whisper, throat stinging.

“i’ll run you a bath and make some tea when we get home.” tsukishima informs, noting to also get ointment for your knees.

your heart swoons at the gesture. but once appearing in front of your friends again, your embarrassment level is through the roof. the deafening silence is nearly unbearable and your face is on fire.

“ahh she’s not feeling well right now, so we’re going to head home. isn’t that right?” you boyfriend looks down at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

you nod solemnly, your voice too hoarse and brain fucked too dumb to make a coherent response.

and as always, kei gets the last laugh.

#tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei smut #tsukishima smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyu smut #haikyuu smut #hq x reader #hq smut #haikyu fic #haikyuu x black reader #haikyu x black reader #haikyu #hq tsukki #hq tsukishima

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 12

Part 11

@spectrum-spectre before you say anything, there's no smut in this one so go to sleep and read it at a more reasonable hour

In Eddie's fantasy world, he took off in a plane with Steve, escorted him back to Indiana, dropped him off at the door of the home he'd be staying at, giving him a very thorough scenting before letting him go.

But Eddie had work to take care of and Steve said he would be fine. And Eddie had gotten the hang of figuring out when Steve meant what he said. It wasn't hard. Whenever he wanted to be spoiled, he put that bratty lilt to his voice. They parted ways, Eddie having rubbed himself all over Steve before they exited the car, then again before getting to the check out counter.

Eddie was avoiding notice by wearing his hair in a braided bun and big sunglasses. He insisted on getting Steve a first class ticket. It was the only way to keep too many people from rubbing against him and thus making his scent fade sooner.

"Don't miss me too much", Eddie teased, looking over the rim of his shades.

Steve wrapped his arms around his neck. "I already do, Daddy", he whispered. He kissed him and then murmured against his lips. "Can't stop thinking about it. In less than ten days..."

Eddie put his hands to Steve's waist. He couldn't wait either. They'd be reuniting for Steve's heat. But they weren't coming back together just for that. While Steve was pretty regular and was 99% it would come when he said it did, Eddie would have Steve on the first jet to Texas on January 1st.

Steve thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of first class and landed back home with less than half the stress of a normal plane flight. Eddie had been a little zealous in spending on him sometimes, and it reflected in how much money he sent to Steve so that he could get a ride at the airport. Steve had specifically told him that Lucas could have picked him up and then he'd be with family for the rest of the time.

Eddie must've heard something different because when Steve checked his venmo, he was several hundred dollars richer. When Lucas picked him up, he decided that money could be well spent doing some last minute shopping.

"You know, I'm actually kind of relieved", Lucas said as they packed the last of the stuff into his trunk.

"Why?", Steve asked.

"I thought when you started being a sugar baby and junk you'd turn into a different person. But you're still Steve."

Steve smiled. "Didn't go through a name change last I checked."

"You know what I mean. You were still cursing out the ref at the game back in DC. And you got Robin a mug with a weird picture, not like a diamond encrusted dog bowl or something."

"She's gonna love the mug more than that. And the ref had his blinders on for the whole first half."

Steve didn't realize how relieved he was to hear that though, that he had retained the real parts of himself even though he felt completely changed by Eddie. Would he start to change in time? How long would it take? His reverie was broken when Lucas pulled into the driveway of his home.

"Okay, so Dustin told my parents you were seeing someone and Mike told them it was someone famous but they don't know it's Eddie Munson."

Steve felt his stomach drop. "Do they know that I'm?"

Lucas shook his head. "You get to tell them that."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me", Steve groaned.

The last thing he wanted to tell the people who helped him through the final years of high school and the first couple of college was that he was getting dicked down by a celebrity and was falling for him too. The Sinclairs were more like his parents than his actual mom and dad.

They didn't hold back either, bringing it up the moment he entered and they got their hugs.

"Dustin told us you're seeing someone?", Mrs. Sinclair said.

Steve snuck an ear twist as Dustin walked by with a grin, one that the Sinclairs definitely noticed but let him get away with. He had to be honest not just because of how important they were, but because they'd find out everything sooner or later. New traveled fast online and he was honestly surprised they didn't know more already.

"I met him one night at a bar. He covered my dinner when I was a little short", Steve said as his hands were kept busy helping with the food preparation.

"Sounds like a gentleman", Mr. Sinclair said.

Lucas and his friends were sitting in the living room, which Steve was thankful for. He knew they'd want to spill every last bean. He got away with giving them minimal info: Eddie's first name, the fact he was a musician, an alpha, and that they'd been on a few dates.

That night, he cornered Dustin and Mike and made them swear to keep their mouths shut about anything else.

"Lucas got basketball tickets. We should get something to", Mike said.

"How's about you don't get a tanned hide?", Steve offered, eyes hard.

Christmas went as usual, Steve spent the day of and day after in the Sinclair home, then returned to his own apartment where Robin was already waiting to celebrate New Years. He didn't get two feet into the door before she was feeling his stomach.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not-"

"But you could be. I know you and your cumslut tendencies. So I know you're not making him wrap it up."

"But I'm still taking my birth control", Steve said.

"You just know that if you get knocked up I'll have no choice but to move back in with you and help you raise this pup", Robin said.

"There is no pup. And I wouldn't make you do that."

"I would though. For you", she promised.

"I know Robs. That's why I'm not gonna let it happen. If I wanna have his baby, you'll get a six month notice before we conceive."

"Thank you for that."

They spent December 31st ordering take out from three different places and binging Empire. When it got to the time for real festivities to begin, they turned the tv to where Eddie said he was going to be performing.

"So that's your beau. He's not bad", Robin complimented. "How's the rest of the band?"

"They're great. I think you and Jeff would really get along. He's actually really into brass instruments too. And Gareth knows a bunch of nerd languages."

"You mean like Klingon and Elvish?"

"And apparently he's learning Atlantean."

Midnight came and Steve kissed her forehead and Robin kissed his cheek.

--------------------

The next day, he was packed and ready to hop on his flight. Robin dropped him off and hugged him tight enough to hold him over until the next time they met. His ticket was first class again and when he landed in Austin, he was already feeling a tingling under his skin. He missed his alpha. Need his scent, his touch, the rumble of his voice.

Because of this, while he loved the other CC boys, he was a little disappointed to see them awaiting his arrival and not Eddie.

"The Ed-man had to finish something in the studio last minute", Gareth explained as they led Steve to the car.

"Thanks for picking me up, guys", Steve certainly preferred them over a stranger from Uber.

Grant drove the way back, taking them to a mansion that had Steve's jaw dropping. He was no stranger to big houses, but he was used to them being simply for status. They'd been grand but sterile, devoid of any personality. The moment Steve stepped in, he could see that wasn't true for this place. He could pick out each of the resident's scents, could see each of their quirks as he was given a tour of the place.

They saved Eddie's room for last and he found out when Eddie barreled down the hallway to meet them at his door.

"They're really good pack", Steve said as Jeff, Grant, and Gareth left the two of them alone.

"I knew I could trust them with you." Then Eddie kissed him about six times. "For all the missed mistletoe." Then again. "For New Year's."

Steve laughed against his lips. "You gonna show me the bedroom anytime soon? I'd love to lie down, Daddy."

Eddie bit his lip, looking nervous all of a sudden as he slowly opened the door. Steve wanted to take in everything. After all, a bedroom could tell you a lot about a person. But his attention was immediately grabbed by the bed situation and what was sitting on the bench in front of it. There was a thin quilt turning it into a canopy bed, much like the den Eddie had made in their hotel room back in New York.

Steve recognized the pattern from what he'd heard before. Jeff's handiwork. And by the foot of the bed was a small bench where a collection of clothes sat. Steve went right to them and took a whiff of the first shirt. It was so undeniably Eddie, he would have thought his neck was pressed to his nose were he not still by the door.

Then he picked up a tank top and caught notes of lemon and ginger. "Are these...?"

"I tried to scent a lot of stuff before you got here, the boys helped out too. I hope that was okay?" His hands were stuck in his pockets and his back was tensed like he might run.

"It's more than okay", Steve reassured him.

"And the den? You like it? I can always change it if you don't. We've got tons of linens here, all that can be scented in a moment's notice and-"

"Eddie", Steve put a hand to his arm. "It's great. Now...", he held up one of the garments. "Help me nest?"

Eddie swallowed and nodded. He followed Steve's lead as they arranged everything on the bed for maximum comfort. Once Steve was satisfied, he sank down into it, smirking when he saw the way Eddie gingerly lied down next to him.

"Your first time doing a heat?", Steve asked.

"I've been around omegas in heat before. Just not as the uh, let's say star alpha", Eddie admitted.

Steve turned so his back was against Eddie's chest and pulled his arm over him. It took Eddie a moment, but he got comfortable and melted against his body. The exhaustion from the flight and being up for hours finally got to him and Steve closed his eyes.

When he opened them hours later, his body was warm and he felt a wetness between his legs.

Part 13

Tag Team CLOSED

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx   @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck  @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva @silenzioperso @she-collects-smut @lost-wondering-souls @eddielives1986 @marklee-blackmore

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #i literally checked the clock b4 posting #bc i know now i have the uncanny ability to post smut #and therefore keep specs up at all hours of the night #but this time there's no smut so haha! #there will be a healthy dose of debauchery in the next one tho

[alanisinstone]

domestic dad!bakugou that has a chubby wife 🥺

cw: slight nsfw, slight angst (microscopic levels), FLUFFF, mention of pregnancy, mention of children

a/n: hi friends, this is the first time i've posted in a while and hopefully not the last, i have lots of ideas that i wanna share. if ya'll have requests or any little blurbs, hit a girl up

So they have like 6 kids right, because bakugou cant keep his hands off of her. and he has so much love and admiration for her not only because of how amazing of a mother and wife she is, but for going through pregnancy and labor 6 fuckin times. and she bodies that shit like every time and comes out better, faster, and stronger. but after their 6th kid, they think its time to slow down because sir this is not a breeding farm (👀)

and so wife has never been thin per se, but after this 6th kid, she looks in the mirror sometimes and feels like a whale. she still loves herself, but all those years of not minding the baby weight, she starts to feel like she's put on a very noticeable amount. her first priority ofc is taking care of her babies but standing in front of the mirror and critiquing herself has become an increasingly time consuming addition to her day.

she spends less and less time busying herself with things outside of work like going out with friends or running errands, and spends more and more time in her and katsuki's bedroom trying on all of her clothes, lingerie, and checking all her angles in the mirror. and she hides it damn well because no one notices, not even kat's. she decides to take matters into her own hands and starts doing some more exercise than she usually does, going to the gym and going on runs with the stroller. But the more she does, it seems the more apparent it becomes to her that nothing is changing.

kat's first sign that something is up is when he finds her rummaging through his side of the closet looking for who knows what. babe what'r ya doin? he comes up behind her, arms wrapping around her waist, with a confused look. i'm lookin for some clothes to wear to lunch with the girls she mumbles out still sifting through his things. in my side? whats over here that cha need hon? he says nuzzling into her neck looking curiously at what she's picking out. i dont know i'm just looking for something she huffs, feeling frustrated and out of luck that as she suspected, none of his clothes are even remotely cute enough for the outing. okay baby, i'm gonna go run the kids to moms. he says giving her a quick peck on the cheek, unwrapping from her, and walking out of the closet. she spends a couple more minutes looking but ultimately finds nothing, and then she feels like shit so she ends up canceling on the girls.

kat's second sign is when she turns down an invitation to a hero event. it wasn't the annual hero gala, but it was a pretty big event with lots of top level heroes, big sponsors, and rich people in attendance. it peaked katsuki's suspicion because she never turned down a chance to dress up and go out with him, and her response was blunt. he kinda presses her like, babe you love galas, whats going on?? but she stands firm in that she does NOT want to go and that shes just kinda feeling icky postpartum. he reluctantly goes along with it, and the headlines are talking about his appearance without her for like a week. now hes kind of suspicious so hes keeping an extra close eye on her activity.

the third and final straw is when she abruptly disappears one saturday evening right before their scheduled date night. the kids were at their grandparents, and kats was busy in his office when he noticed the time, quickly getting up and going to go find her so they could talk about what they're wearing. babe? baby? he checked all around until he walked up stairs towards their room and heard faint sniffling through the door. He walks into the room cautiously but concerned, finds nothing, then follows the sound of her increasingly intense sobs. He slowly opens the closet door with a quiet baby? and sees her, cheeks streaked with tears, curled up in a ball on the floor, looking very distraught. Of course he still takes a small second to admire her beauty but then hes immediately on the floor with her arms moving her to his lap, hands coming up to her cute, tear-stricken face. honey whats wrong? what happened? he coos, trying to understand what could have possibly made her so upset.. and she just can't stand keeping it in any longer so she spills everything, saying how since the last baby she feels huge, and very unsexy, and that she knows he loves her but she doesn't feel like he wants her sexually anymore, and it seems like everyone in the world is so rude nowadays, and the skinny soccer moms look at her funny now, and the karens at the school seem to think shes apart of their group for some reason...

bakugou listens intently to every single thing she has to say but is also beating him self up fr for not catching any of this. he wouldn't hesitate to say that she is absolutely his rock and nothing less, but hes also supposed to be hers, and he feels like he failed at that. if he couldn't see that something was wrong and help her through it than what kind of husband is he? baby listen to me he whispers all of those scary thoughts bouncing around up there? he brushes her hair back out of her face its all just noise. you are the most beautiful, intelligent, kind, loving person that i ever have and ever will know. i admire you more than you'll ever understand. you make me a better man, you raise our kids so beautifully, with love and patience, and i guarantee you, everyone you come across knows that you are the kindest soul there is. and if theres someone fucking your shit up you know ill take care of it. you glow inside and out baby, you light up any room that you walk into. and ill be reminding you every day now since you can't seem to get it through your stubborn head.

shes not sobbing anymore but shes gazing into his eyes in awe of how she could possibly have locked him down. she closes the space between them, kissing him on the lips softly, pouring out all her love for him hoping it conveys what she can't seem to put into words. And he feels it washing over him; the sweet, soft, gentle but passionate love that they share being opened up like a pandora's box. it seeps into every corner of the house, every crevice of their bodies, and sparks with every touch and caress. he can smell it in the air and she can hear it ringing in her ears. its not visible in the way material things are but its even more present in every way, it takes up all space there is to take and grows and expands.

they're lost in eachother - in the love sticking to them like glitter. kats breaks away to make one more point and if you think im not attracted to you, you are horribly mistaken. and thats the least of it. im unhealthily obsessed with you babe. you are the only thing i see. you and your body is on my mind 90% of the day, and im constantly fighting a hard on. i can't even get it up to porn anymore. she hits him upside the head laughing. their bodies still and forever entangled in the love they've made.

likes and reblogs appreciated!

©  alanisinstone 2022 — do not steal, plagiarise, or modify my content.

#i dont like the end of this #its abrupt #this was supposed to be smut but im reading colleen hoover rn so i was feeling deep and philisophical #still am horn tho #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou drabble #bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki drabble #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader fluff #domestic bakugou #dad!bakugou #dilf!bakugou #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader smut #lana.writes 🖍

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [29] - Hemlock

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤

Thanks so much to @theskytraveler​ for helping me with the chapter!

Summary: Every artist has a different idea of inspiration.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, angst.

Word Count: 3400

Series Masterlist

Well, this had to be the infamous heartbreak all those artists and writers never shut up about.

And as far as you could tell, you hated it.

It was as if sadness had taken all the energy out of your body for the last couple of days. You hadn’t really seen Benedict since that fight at the breakfast, he had spent all his time either outside or in his studio and you had spent your time in your room or the library, mostly sulking.

“My lady?”

You opened your eyes and sat up in the bed as your maid walked inside. It was afternoon, you had taken your breakfast in your room and had curled up on the bed again with a book in your hand that you had no idea what was about.

“Yeah?” you croaked out and Paula offered you an apologetic smile before showing you the envelope she was holding, making your heart drop to your stomach.

“Who’s that from?” you asked, your voice shaky with fear and she checked the name.

“Lady Margery Sutton?”

The relief that filled your system was so sudden that it made your head spin before it was quickly replaced by confusion.

“For me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You held out your hand so that she could give you the envelope, and you opened it to scan the lines.

“A dinner party tonight?” you muttered, trying to remember whether you had ever given a promise like that but you couldn’t quite figure it out. You frowned slightly and lowered the invitation, then looked up at her.

“Is Benedict home?”

“Yes ma’am, at his studio.”

You nibbled on your lip and thought for a moment, then pushed yourself off the bed and grabbed your dressing gown. You put it on and threw your shoulders back, then left your room to make your way down the hallway. Your heartbeat was so fast that you had to take a deep breath and scold yourself in your head before you reached the open door of his studio. For a second, you just let yourself take in his handsome form while he worked on the canvas, your heart clenching in your chest and you swallowed thickly, then knocked on the doorframe before you could change your mind.

His head whirled around immediately and a painful light flashed in his blue gaze as soon as his eyes fell on you, but it lasted less than a second before he pulled himself together.

“Yes?”

You blinked a couple of times and forced yourself to snap out of it, then held up the invitation in your hand.

“I didn’t mean to disturb,” you said drily. “But Margery sent a letter about a dinner party tonight and apparently we’re attending?”

He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a breath, running a hand over his face.

“I told her we would, before…” he trailed off and you raised your brows.

Oh.

The night of the party.

“Right,” you said. “Okay.”

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“It’d be rude,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s alright. At 8 she says?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

A silence fell upon the room and you licked your lips, then took a deep breath.

“Then should we—”

“We don’t really need to talk to each other,” he said calmly and your head shot up, that bitter taste appearing in your throat again before you nodded your head.

“Sure,” you said, your tone completely stoic. “Agreed. I was just going to ask whether we should still act all…you know. When we’re with other people.”

“Lovesick?” he suggested and you shrugged your shoulders again.

“Whatever it is.”

He scoffed a stiff chuckle.

“I don’t think it’s worth the effort at this point,” he said. “I mean I don’t really care what anyone else thinks, and I already know how you feel, so…The rest doesn’t matter anyway.”

You could feel the burning at the back of your eyes before you blinked fast a couple of times to stop the tears before they could reach your eyes.

“Uh huh,” you ended up saying, folding the paper just so that you could do something with your hands. “Yeah.”

“Did you want to?”

“No,” you said almost too fast. “No, it’s a relief to hear that we won’t do that anymore actually.”

A bitter smile curled his lips.

“I’m sure it is,” he rasped out and you cleared your throat, biting at your tongue to focus on anything other than that pang in your chest.

“Great,” you managed to say. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Alright,” he said, his gaze still on you. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” you muttered more to yourself before you turned around and walked away, your eyes still burning. You entered your room, scrunching up the invitation in your hand and Paula turned to you.

“Shall I pick a dress for tonight then?”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, then smiled at her.

“That sounds good,” you rasped out. “Thank you.”

                                                *

The carriage ride to Lady Margery’s house was very quiet, but tense. Unlike the other times, this silence between you and Benedict didn’t possess any kind of peace, it just made you feel like you were about to walk on the edge of a sword throughout the night.

When you and Benedict walked in, most of the other guests were already there in the drawing room and Margery quickly made her way to you as soon as she saw you.

“Oh welcome!” she said, kissing you on the cheek before turning to smile at Benedict. “You’ve made it! Hello Benedict.”

“Hello Margery,” Benedict said, making you pull your brows together at the lack of honorifics but Margery didn’t seem to mind it at all, on the contrary it made her smile widen, making your heart skip a beat.

“We were just about to go to the dining room, almost everyone is here except Henry and Gordon,” she said. “But Lucy says they will probably be late. Anyway, Y/N you should’ve been at the party, you missed so much!”

You raised your brows and nodded.

“So I’ve heard,” you said. “Perhaps the next time.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” she said airily and turned to Benedict. “And how about you, Mr. Bridgerton? It took me a day to sober up for good, I’m guessing it took you a bit longer than that?”

Dear God, you couldn’t do this, not tonight.

You turned your head and thankfully caught the sight of Felix, so you cleared your throat.

“Excuse me,” you muttered and walked away from them to Felix who gave you a bright smile.

“Y/N!” he said. “It’s been a while.”

“Mm hm, you have been quite busy with my brother-in-law,” you joked half-heartedly and he looked down with a smile, then raised his glances.

“He’s amazing.”

“You only think that because you have never seen him hungry, I suppose,” you deadpanned, taking a look at the other couple in the drawing room and Felix glanced at you, then cleared his throat.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is everything alright?”

“What?” you asked, turning to him. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Nothing, it’s just—you’re glaring at people again.”

“I always glare at people, it’s a part of my charm.”

“Not lately—” he started but was cut off when you heard Lucy’s voice.

“Did you two have a fight?”

You looked over your shoulder, then turned to see her better. “Hello to you too, and what?”

“You and Benedict?”

“…What makes you say that?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat and she shrugged.

“You’re not near each other for once?”

“We don’t have to be in each other’s orbit all the time,” you said and Lucy and Felix exchanged glances.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Is this why you weren’t at the party?”

“Lucy…”

“What?” she asked, feigning innocence. “I’m curious by nature, you know that.”

“Everyone?” Margery called out. “Time for dinner, please follow me to the dining room.”

You, Felix and Lucy followed the only other couple to the dining room and when you entered the dining room to take your seat, Benedict pulled your chair for you. You offered him a small smile, then took your seat and he sat down next to you while the others took their seats.

As the footmen began to serve the soup, one of the guests –you recognized him as one of Benedict’s friends, Lord Thomas Bousfield– turned to Lucy.

“So when exactly can we expect the next party?”

“When I sober up for good,” Lucy replied with a laugh and Margery tilted her head.

“I know how you feel,” she said. “I might throw the next party Lord Bousfield, but only if you promise you will be a part of the art room.”

Oh, she could remember the honorifics just fine when it was other people then.

Lord Bousfield held up his hands. “No promises.”

“Oh come on!”

“You have your promising artist there,” Lord Bousfield motioned at Benedict. “Tell him instead of me.”

“I will make him, no worries,” Lucy said. “Or I’ll ask Henry to.”

“There is no need to make him, his inspiration sits right beside him,” Felix said and you and Benedict exchanged glances but before either of you could say anything, Henry entered the dining room.

“Our biggest apologies!” he said and went to kiss Margery’s hand as another man entered the room after him.

Ah, this had to be the infamous Lord Gordon Easton, Benedict’s hero in art.

He was older than Henry, judging by the grays in his hair and neatly trimmed beard, and handsome by anyone’s standards. He had an air of calm charisma that seemed to surround him and even you could tell he was aware of it, which made you think it probably came from the endless admiration of everyone around him.

An artist indeed.

His eyes fell on you and he raised his brows as if he was quite impressed, then he smiled at Benedict and made his way to Margery to kiss her hand as well.

“My lady,” he greeted her and Margery narrowed her eyes playfully.

“At last the guests of honor are here,” she said and motioned between them. “Which one of you should I blame then?”

“Me,” Henry said as he took his seat beside Lucy. “As much as I hate to admit, it was on me this time.”

“At least you’re honest,” Margery said with a chuckle and Lord Easton sat down as well.

“What did we miss?”

“Inspiration,” Lucy said and Henry grinned.

“Oh that’s impossible to miss, it’s everywhere.”

“Is it though?”

“It’s a cruel mistress,” Lord Easton said, “A fickle one too.”

“Hear hear,” the lady sitting beside Thomas said and he chuckled.

“As if inspiration is ever cruel to you Jane.”

“It has its moments,” she said with a smile while you sipped your drink. “And Felix?”

“I have no issues with inspiration, it’s my canvas that is cruel to me.”

“You will get there,” Lucy assured him. “It just takes time.”

“And patience,” Henry added. “Which is something you must learn, Felix.”

“I’m trying.”

“How about you Ben?” Lord Easton asked, “What does our promising young artist think?”

Benedict snapped out of his thoughts and cleared his throat.

“About what?” he asked and Margery let out a laugh.

“Are you alright Benedict?”

“Sure,” he said, taking a sip of his wine. “Zoned out for a moment. What are we talking about?”

“How hard it can be to capture the inspiration,” Henry said. “Do you think the same?”

Benedict shrugged his shoulders.

“Sort of,” he said. “I mean it is rather difficult to get inspiration when my life is perfect, so I just create issues for myself and make huge life decisions just to capture it, nothing more.”

You raised your brows, an irritated chuckle spilling from your lips as you dragged your tongue over your teeth, swirling the wine in your glass.

“Y/N disagrees,” Margery teased and you shook your head.

“Not at all,” you said before turning to see Benedict better. “A rather interesting idea, how did you come up with it?”

“I’ve had a good teacher,” Benedict stated, his blue gaze locking in yours and you could swear you could hear the crackles of lightning between you, tension almost palpable.

“Sounds like a brutally honest one,” you pointed out and Benedict tilted his head.

“Brutal yes, but honest?” he asked. “Debatable.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t think honesty is up for debate, you are either honest or not.”

“Is everything alright between you two?” Henry asked while Lucy shook her head, and both you and Benedict turned to him.

“Sure.”

“Of course,” you said at the same time and you sipped your drink, ignoring the curiosity etched in Lord Easton’s face.

“Well then,” Margery raised her glass slightly. “To inspiration. May it be gentle with all the artists but especially the ones at this table.”

                                                *

After the dinner, you excused yourself to get some fresh air in the garden while Margery took everyone else to the art gallery at the first floor so that they could see the newest paintings she purchased from all over the world. The cool air on your face did nothing to soothe the slight headache making its way to your temples and you sat down in the gazebo, then leaned your head back, stealing a look at the flowers around you.

Of course Margery’s garden looked perfect.

Of course.

You heaved a sigh and leaned your head back, the moonlight falling on you. You fixed your gaze on the starry sky before you followed the familiar shape with your eyes, a scoff escaping from your lips.

Andromeda.

The footsteps coming closer made you turn your gaze back to the garden and you raised your brows as you saw the figure.

“Lord Easton.”

He offered you a small smile and bowed his head.

“Mrs. Bridgerton,” he greeted you back. “Benedict’s infamous beauty.”  

You arched a brow.

“I’m not anyone’s anything,” you corrected him and he nodded.

“My apologies,” he said. “May I join you, Mrs. Bridgerton?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

“It’s not every day I’m in the presence of a muse.”

“You’re still not.”

“Oh I disagree,” he said. “I’ve met many people who want to be artists and I’ve also met many people who they saw as their muse, but you two? A promising artist with actual talent and a muse with intriguing beauty? That’s rarer than you’d think. Once in a blue moon, as one would say.”

If it were anyone else you would have thought he was just throwing you compliments, but somehow you knew he was not. Perhaps because of his matter-of-fact tone, perhaps because you knew he was widely successful and famous therefore he had no need for compliments to gain someone’s interest, but you just knew he was not interested in you in a traditional manner, in an affair or not.

There was intrigue in his eyes rather than desire.

He took out a cigarette to light it, and offered one to you but you shook your head.

“No thank you.”

“Of course,” he said and huffed out the smoke. “So how did he break your heart?”

Your head snapped up and you blinked a couple of times. “Pardon?”

“One cannot be an artist without observation as their second nature,” he said. “And observation is a part of inspiration as many artists throughout the history agree. So? How did he break your heart?”

Your jaw clenched, yet you kept your gaze on him in complete silence.

“I would ask how you broke his heart,” he said. “But I don’t think I will get an answer to that question.”

“And you think you will get an answer to the other one?” you asked back and he chuckled.

“Perhaps,” he said. “So how did he?”

You watched him in silence for a couple of seconds, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Lord Easton—”

“Gordon, please,” he told you, waving a hand in the air and you clicked your tongue.

“I’m not planning on getting that familiar with you,” you pointed out. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?”

“Not at all.”

“No heartbreak?”

“Impossible,” you stated. “I don’t have a heart.”

“Ah,” he said, then nodded. “I see.”

“You don’t sound convinced,” you said and he took a drag of his cigarette.

“Call it experience.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a hedonist?” you asked. “I remember Margery saying something along those lines.”

“I am,” he said. “But I’ve had my fair share of wounds of heart.”

You let out a small laugh. “Is that not an occupational hazard in your line of work?”

An amused smile curled his lips and he nodded.

“It is,” he said. “As it happens, it’s also an occupational hazard in Benedict’s line of work.”

That was enough to make any trace of a smile disappear from your face and you crossed your arms.

“Sounds like you should be talking to Benedict, not me,” you said. “You’re both artists after all.”

He paused for a moment.

“You know he will be a big name in the art world right?”

You nodded your head. “I’m heartless, not blind.”

He snorted a laugh. “I doubt you’re heartless, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

“Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Because there’s a fire behind your eyes,” he said. “That you share with him. That one doesn’t come alive unless your heart is involved. Trust me, it takes a special kind of pain to lure it out.”

“And the cure?”

“The poison is the antidote.”

“Love?” you spat. “I’d rather not take the antidote then.”

He heaved a sigh.

“Judging by what I’ve seen just now at dinner?” he said. “I’d say it’s already in your system.”

You licked your lips, then shook your head.

“Nah,” you said. “It’s a trick.”

“Love?”

“Yeah, it’s yet another luxury only artists can afford to dwell on,” you pointed out. “Nothing more. It’s not my—it’s not my issue.”

“No?”

You shrugged your shoulders, your throat getting tighter.

“I never asked Benedict to love me,” you said as if daring him to disagree and he raised his brows.

“I see,” he said. “Did he ask you to love him then?”

You pulled back, swallowing thickly and he offered you a small smile, then stubbed his cigarette.

“Let me give you a secret, Mrs. Bridgerton,” he said. “One that no one around you ever told you. You two would have led much easier lives if you married other people.”

You pulled your brows together.

“What?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Odds are, you and he would have had a normal life, a couple of kids along the way and a tolerable companionship at best with others if you hadn’t met each other. Granted something was always going to be missing, but most people learn to look the other way whenever that realization dawns on them. But… dear God, you two married each other.”

You stared at him and he shook his head slightly.

“It is understandable why you’re fighting tooth and nail,” he said. “This kind of love is something else, and of course it terrifies you. The person who holds the key to your true happiness is the same person who can give you the worst pain you could ever imagine.”

You tried to ignore how badly your eyes were burning.

“And that’s what all artists crave?” you asked. “I thought it was supposed to be soft and pleasant.”

He shot you a knowing smile.

“Show me one artist who claimed love is soft and pleasant.”

You frowned at him in silence, trying to wrap your head around what he said.

“You still think the storm and the shelter are separate things here,” he said and stood up. “They’re not. Benedict knows it, and that’s why it will be much easier for him than it will be for you.”

You blinked back the tears as he bowed his head slightly.

“Good luck, Mrs. Bridgerton,” he said. “Muse or not, I’d say you’re going to need it.”

With that, he walked away from you, leaving you there alone. You clenched your teeth and blinked back the tears, then let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “I’m going to need it for sure.”

Chapter 30

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

[waddingham]

oH Ted as the 'someone coming every week to cook and stock her fridge with meals'!! your brain does so much good work and I am so thankful we get to reap the benefits <33

yeah!!!!!! and i couldn't think straight until I got rid of it!!! here take this it's killing me!!

×

She begs Phillip to keep her on. She begs him, tries to double his fee even, to keep him from total retirement, but he's steadfast in his decision. 

The thought of hunting down another chef is horrific. But he gives her no choice. 

She blows through them like tissues for three months, suffering over-complicated meals, over-powering flavors, chefs clearly trying to impress as if she wants a Michelin star meal every night. She doesn't – if that was what she wanted she knows exactly where to get it. 

When she's at home she just wants good food, that's easy to reheat and easy to eat. Which is how she ends up finally succumbing to Leslie's repeated insistence that she give his man a chance.

“He comes over once a month,” he tells her, more than once. “Puts together some things we can freeze and just pop in the oven. Simple enough for the boys to do it, so Julie and I can have at least a couple evenings where they can feed themselves.”

He brightens when she gives and asks for his info, and when she gives him a call, she's struck dumb hearing his American accent.

She's running out of options, so she takes a chance on him.

×

She taps her fingers on the counter, waiting for the doorbell, checking her watch when she finally hears it. He's perfectly on time, but she feels like she's already searching for a reason to be disappointed with him.

He has a pleasant smile for her, though, and a friendly demeanor and a firm handshake and a handsome face – none of which she can immediately find fault in as they introduce themselves.

“I'm sure you're busy,” he says as she leads him to the kitchen. “So I appreciate you taking the time to let me peek at the kitchen and ask you a couple questions.”

“Of course,” she says, used to the procedure by now. Most of them have some kind of sheet they have her fill out, usually via email, but she doesn't mind taking a moment to meet the person who's going to be cooking her food.

“Oh, this is nice,” he compliments, looking around the kitchen, as he sets down the backpack hooked on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” she says, gesturing for him to claim a stool. “Though you can probably infer from your presence that it gets little use.”

“That's okay, I'll go easy on it,” he chuckles, pulling a binder from his bag and opening it up on the counter. “First, though, I wanna make sure I know what I'm cooking.”

He doesn't have a questionnaire or the like, it seems. The lined paper in front of him is blank before he scrawls her name at the top.

“How many people am I cooking for, first of all?” he says without looking up.

She licks her lips, her gaze shifting. 

“Just me.” She keeps her tone matter-of-fact. She hopes.

The way he glances up makes her doubt whether she managed it.

“Makin’ it easy on me already,” he says with a soft smile, adding a 1 to the corner of his sheet. “You have any allergies or dietary restrictions?” 

“No,” she says, then adds, “Though, I do have the tendency to drop meat for a while every so often.”

“A part-time vegetarian?”

She cracks half a smile. “Sure.”

“Okay,” he chuckles. “What kinda meals are you after? Breakfast, lunch, dinner?”

“Dinner, mostly, though I won't say no to the occasional breakfast. Mostly out of curiosity.”

She doesn't think any of the chefs she's hired have offered to make breakfasts.

“I make a mean frittata,” he grins. “What do you like, then? What are some of your favorites, so I can get a feel for what you want?”

“When I eat at home, I want quick and easy,” she says. “The less steps for me, the better. I don't want extravagant, elaborate meals. Shepherd's pie, any kind of pasta, soups, salads. Fish, chicken, red meat on occasion, not every week preferably. Anything veg heavy will probably be a hit with me.”

He nods, taking rapid notes in what must be a very familiar format to him. He fires off a few more questions for her, elaborating a bit further on what she likes before switching gears.

“Anything you absolutely don't want?”

“Not especially,” she says. “I don't like to limit a new chef too soon. I'd rather you make me your best and I'll let you know.”

“Uh oh,” he smiles.

He does that a lot.

“Am I on trial?”

She opens her hands up, giving him a small smile and he chuckles.

“I've had six chefs in ten weeks,” she tells him. “So yes, maybe a little bit.”

“Why didn't they fit the bill?” he asks curiously. “So I can avoid a similar fate.”

“I don't think they quite believed me when I told them how simple I wanted things,” she says. “Too many sauces and sides and heat this up separately and put this on this. If I want a five course meal, I know where to get one. When I get home from work, I want to throw something in the oven or dump it on a plate and microwave it, not anything glamorous.”

He looks pleased to hear it – he seems to actually relax slightly, as if he'd been uncertain he could deliver on what she wanted.

“Well, I can guarantee you that going too fancy will not be a problem with me,” he says, writing a few more things down. “I'm used to basic.”

“Good.”

“I've got Tuesday afternoons free, if we're doing every week.”

She nods.

“Between noon and four, if that works for you.”

“I'll be at work, so you'll have free reign,” she says, opening a drawer on the island and pulling a house key from it. “Make yourself at home.”

“Alrighty,” he says, taking it from her. She watches him pull a roll of masking tape and a ring of maybe half a dozen keys from his bag. He rips off a piece of tape and labels it with an RW before adding it to the keyring. 

“If you ever have any requests, that number you have is my cell. Shoot me a text before Tuesday if you want it that week, or you can leave me a note.”

“Okay.”

“And let me know if you think of anything else you want me to know,” he says, starting to pack everything away again. “If you hate olives or can't stand Bleu cheese.”

“I love olives,” she says emphatically. “And there's no kind of cheese I will refuse.”

“Cheese is the best, right?” he remarks. “They're all good. Yellow, white, hard, soft. Even stinky, moldy…still good.”

She snorts a bit, but fully agrees.

“I'm pretty much always stocked with fresh mozzarella to nibble on so feel free to help yourself.”

“Oh, don't tell me that,” he says, shaking his head. “I'll clean you out every week.”

She chuckles as he throws his backpack over his shoulder. 

She sees him out, intrigued now to see what he cooks up for her.

×

When she gets home on Tuesday, there's a delicate cacophony of smells hanging in the air and she remembers for the first time today – after a long, trying weekend – that Ted was meant to come.

And apparently did.

The kitchen is spotless (thank God – chef number two had a tendency to slack on the cleaning up bit) and she eagerly makes her way to the fridge.

Each covered pan has a strip or two of tape on top – 35 minutes @ 175° the small square one requests. Thank God. One singular step.

If it tastes like shit, she's going to cry.

It reveals itself to be a lasagna and she flips the oven on, lets it get hot while she peeks at the rest of what he's made, then pops it in the oven while she goes upstairs and gets comfortable.

She notices the extra pan by the kettle when she comes back down, this one without a lid, left on a trivet. 

Three neat rows of shortbread lie within it, a note flat on the counter in front of it.

A little extra treat – maybe a bribe so I don't end up being Disappointing Chef Number 7 – and a thanks for giving me a shot. I'm told these are a winner with a cup of tea. 

He's signed it with a mustached smiley face that makes her chuckle.

They smell divine. She can't resist prying one up and taking a bite.

“Oh, fuck me,” she mutters to herself, looking at the biscuit with a bit of wonder as it melts on her tongue, perfectly sweet and salty.

Oh, wow. She glances at the oven, then the pan in front of her.

She might have struck gold.

×

Everything is delicious. He's clearly not a professional five star chef, but every bite has her in disbelief.

It's just so good. She was skeptical, but he even nails a shepherd's pie for her, dumping cheese on top without her even requesting it. Nothing is unpleasant or poorly made, nothing has her thinking to text him and tell him she didn't love it. His portions are more than enough for her and she frequently takes what's left to the office with her. She has never taken lunch with her to work. Ever.

His cooking tastes like dining at a friend's house, like family made it, like he loves cooking for people and puts it in every bite.

And the biscuits. She finished the pan before the week was even out, unable to help herself.

She's a little bit devastated when there are none on the following Tuesday. 

She leaves a note the next time she expects him.

Any chance for biscuits again? 

She's ecstatic to find a fresh pan when she gets home.

She's nursing her last three by the weekend, determined to make them last long enough to request more.

×

I hope no notes is a good thing?

She's been meaning to text him, tell him how pleased she is with everything he's made, but it continued to slip her mind.

How am I doing?

No notes is a very good thing, she sends back. Everything has been absolutely delicious.

Oh good :)

I love to hear it

The biscuits have become a problem though

No biscuits next week then?

God no

I'm hooked on them

Don't do that to me

You got it boss

×

She almost laughs at herself when she gets home.

She's turning down dinner dates and good-looking men in favor of a date with the container labeled prosciutto stuffed chicken breast in her fridge that she's been thinking about all day.

He'd probably get a kick out of the fact that his food is so good it's ruining her dating prospects, but that's most definitely not something she'll be telling him.

She gets herself a little bit of this week's salad while she waits on the oven – romaine with candied walnuts, dried cranberries, gorgonzola, sliced green apple with a deliciously sharp vinaigrette. She peruses the fridge in her typical Wednesday fashion – on Tuesday evenings she's made a habit of grabbing the first thing she sees and letting him surprise her – looking for the small container of sauce that the lid of the chicken makes mention of.

She chuckles when she sees it. Some of his notes on things have gotten more elaborate, sometimes teasing, sometimes with a wine pairing suggestion, sometimes just with a little smiley face. The lid for the sauce only says creamy pesto, but there's masking tape wrapped in a spiral over its sides, covered with writing.

I know, I'm gonna get in trouble for making a separate sauce for something but all you gotta do is dump it on when it's done! It's worth the extra step I promise! 

She snickers around her salad, setting it on the counter. 

It's well, well worth the extra step.

×

When she gets home on Tuesday, she's unexpectedly greeted by a strong, delicious smell and noise from the kitchen. She leaves her heels and her coat before turning into the kitchen.

Ted's at the stove, looking almost mortified as he immediately starts apologizing.

“I'm sorry, Rebecca, I'm so behind today, but this is my last one and then I'll clean up and get out of here–” he rambles, but she's taking him in more than listening. Namely, she's taking in his tired bloodshot eyes and his disheveled hair and the way his hands shake as he gestures to the mess of the kitchen. 

“I'm sorry–”

“No, Ted, it's alright,” she insists. “It's not a problem.”

“I'm almost done.”

“Are you okay?” she asks gently.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, I just need to finish this…”

She frowns and rounds the island, unconvinced and unsettled – he's almost frantic with energy.

“Come here.” 

He frowns as she pulls him away from the stove.

“No, it'll burn–”

“In which case I'll survive with one less meal,” she says firmly, pushing him to the dining table. “Sit.”

He does – reluctantly – and she gets him a glass of water.

“Take a deep breath. Relax,” she insists before stepping to the stove. The pan there has a sauce in the making, a plate of meatballs next to it, as well as a pot of water getting hot.

“What needs done here?” she asks.

“I can–”

“Stop,” she commands, lifting a brow at him before he can rise. “Sit. Just tell me.”

“The, the cream needs to go in,” he says. “Give it a second, then the other two little bowls there, the Dijon and the Worcestershire and then the spices.”

“Okay,” she says, keeping her voice steady, hoping it'll relax him, show him she's far from upset that he's still here.

She follows his instructions, pouring the measuring cup of cream in and mixing it with the little whisk that's already there. She lets it get hot, then adds the rest, stirring it in.

“What am I making?” she asks with a small smile.

“Swedish meatballs,” he supplies, sounding distracted. “One of my favorites.”

“Swedish, hmm?”

“Well, I can't speak to them being authentic,” he says. “Recipe was my mom's. And she's definitely not Swedish.”

It smells delicious – whatever spices she just added were warm and aromatic and it makes her mouth water.

“What next?”

“Uh, turn the heat down and let it simmer,” he says. “Needs to thicken.” 

She dutifully turns the stove down and then joins him, taking a seat next to him. 

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he deflects, “I'm fine. Just…didn't sleep so good and then this morning was…I'm fine.”

She doesn't push, seeing how much effort he's putting into forcing a smile and changes course.

“Do you have anywhere else to be today?” she asks.

“No, no, you're my last client on Tuesdays.”

“Then stay,” she insists, gesturing to the stove. “Looks like enough for two.”

“I shouldn't,” he tries, shaking his head. “I should get out of your hair.”

“You're not in my hair,” she asserts. “I would enjoy the company and I'm most certainly not complaining about getting a meal fresh off the stove.”

He looks her over for a moment, presumably looking for any hint of falsehood before he nods a bit haltingly.

She smiles.

“Should, uh, should put the meatballs back in to finish ‘em,” he murmurs. “And get the noodles on.”

“Yes, chef,” she says, giving him a wink when he finally smiles. 

“I'll do it,” he says, and she lets him this time for how much calmer he seems. She occupies herself by offering him a drink and pouring herself a glass of wine. He accepts a couple fingers of a scotch he's apparently had his eye on for the last few weeks and she watches with interest as he takes a sip.

“Oh, that's nice,” he mutters. 

“The only one I buy anymore.”

“You have excellent taste, I have to say,” he remarks. “Thank you.”

She helps him get the rest of the dinner together and is glad to see him relax more and more, until he's smiling easy as they both sit at the island with bowls of noodles and meatballs.

“Well, it smells fantastic,” she says, eagerly stabbing a forkful of noodles and half a meatball.

It's delicious. Creamy and warm and truly everything about it screams comfort food. 

“Oh, Christ,” she mumbles around it. 

“Yeah? That one a winner?” 

She nods emphatically, eyeing him as she chews.

“Nothing you make is bad,” she mumbles, watching him take his own bite.

“That's ‘cause I only make what I know I can make good for you,” he chuckles. 

“Why's that?” she asks. He can take a chance on her – he's built up plenty of faith in him already. One bad meal isn't going to have her canning him.

“Oh, to impress of course,” he says with a crooked smile that she returns. 

“You've already done so,” she says. “I haven't had a single thing I didn't like.”

“I'm very happy to hear it,” he says, sounding very genuine about it.

They eat slowly because conversation comes very easily. Whether it's the drink or the distraction of her company, he's light-years away from the frazzled ball of anxiety she was met with.

“Safe to assume you don't enjoy cooking much, huh?” he asks her as they both scrape their bowls. 

“I don't think I would mind it if I had ever learned,” she muses. “But I've had a cook for most of my life and learning how now just to feed myself seems more trouble than it's worth.”

“You've had a cook most of your life?” 

“My parents kept one when I was a kid, and then when I was married, my ex-husband insisted on a cook,” she says, half rolling her eyes. “Thank you, by the way, for not inundating me with pork pies and sausage rolls and roasts and dousing everything in gravy.”

“I enjoy a good gravy, but, oof, that's heavy eatin’ right there.”

“Too heavy,” she agrees. “Though my tastes were rarely taken into account.”

He hums as he wipes his mouth and she finds understanding in his eyes.

“How long were you married?” he inquires.

“Twelve years,” she says slowly.

“That's a lot of gravy,” he says more seriously than the words might call for. She hears his meaning plain enough.

“Yes. It was.”

“Well,” his tone brightens a bit, “now you got me to make whatever you please.”

“Too right,” she chuckles, sipping her wine. “And it's always spectacular. I don't know how you do it, what you're lacing everything with…”

“Oh, I just make sure I put a little love in everything, that's all,” he grins.

She takes in the sight of him, smiling and content, his creased eyes warm, and she likes this. She's enjoying this. She likes him. 

It's so hard to know though, even as his eyes move over her face, the quiet stretching long, if she likes him or if she's simply missed enjoying a comfortable meal at home without having to do it alone.

Her eyes drop, aware of how intensely she’s looking at him. She's not sure when it happened but they're both turned completely towards each other on their stools, leaning on the counter, and his fingertips are right there at the edge of hers – the mere straightening of her fingers would bring them into contact.

“I appreciate you letting me stay and have some of your dinner,” he says softly.

“You made it,” she offers with a grin.

“You paid for it,” he returns.

“It's not a problem at all,” she says, meaning it wholeheartedly. “It's nice to have some company.”

“I'm gonna be honest with you, Rebecca, you don't seem like a woman who would have any problem finding company.”

Her brows lift alongside the corners of her mouth, a little internally delighted by his boldness.

“I think I'll take that as a compliment,” she grins.

“As it was meant,” he assures.

“In which case…I'll amend to say it's nice to have such comfortable and easy company.”

His cheeks round, his gaze dropping in something akin to bashfulness and she thinks it really might just be him that's growing on her.

“I’m glad you stayed,” she says, her smile slanting crookedly. “Even if I pretty much made you.”

“I didn't wanna impose. You were very kind to give me a second to…calm down.”

She's not sure if it's embarrassment, exactly, or shame that has him toying with his glass instead of looking at her.

“Felt like I was trying to catch up to myself all day,” he admits.

“I know the feeling,” she sympathizes.

He's quiet for a moment before he responds. 

“My ex-wife was supposed to come out with our son in the next couple weeks here, but she called and they pushed it back until the summer.”

His frown is back and his gaze is faraway, but she doesn't speak.

“Been here for almost a year now and they still seem to be getting on just fine without me.” He sounds like he wishes he could say it with detachment, but it comes out rather devastated. 

“They're in the States?” she asks gently, pulling him back to here and now as he shakes himself a bit. 

“Yes.”

“Why don't you go see them?” she tries, though she's very aware she's got the bare minimum of facts.

“‘Cause I'm still stinging from her snapping that she just needs some goddamn space,” he says, giving her a twisted, wry little grin. 

She frowns but he shrugs, lifting his drink to his lips. 

“S’pose it's about time to just get over it,” he mumbles.

“That's not easy to get over,” she says kindly. “Especially from someone you love.”

“No, it's not,” he agrees. “Ain't much love to lose these days, though. You're probably right, should just take matters into my own hands, hop over the pond.”

“Don't go too long,” she says, only half teasing. “I shouldn't be left to feed myself for a prolonged period of time.”

He smiles again and the sight has warm satisfaction melting in her.

“Oh, if I go anywhere I'll set you up, don't you worry,” he assures her.

“Thank goodness.”

It's odd how difficult she finds it when she rises and steps away. A part of her wants her to stay put, keep the space between them minimal, but she writes it off as a result of just how long it's been since she had sex.

“Now, I don't see any biscuits,” she says. “But I suppose I'll give you a pass this week.”

He rises with a soft chuckle, following her with his own dish to the sink. 

“No, no, I'll do it,” he says as he starts to clean up from dinner. “Unless you need your kitchen back.”

She starts gathering dishes – he must clean as he goes, because it's not nearly the mess she'd imagine would come from cooking four whole dinners. 

“Oh, for what? You think I have a chef on the side coming over tonight?”

He turns, expression scandalized, a hand landing on his chest as if he's been shot.

“Tell me you'd never.”

She chuckles, joining him at the sink, hands full.

They clean up together and then she pours them both another drink before she claims a stool, content to watch as he puts together a batch of biscuits. She watches him move comfortably around the kitchen, chatting easily with her, and it's making an impression, one she's blatantly ignoring.

She half expects him to try to leave her once they're in the oven and has her excuses for him to stay at the ready, but he sits again, waiting the half hour they need to bake at the island with her. He asks her about her job, how she came to own the club, and conversation wanders to and fro.

“I'm intrigued to see what you've cooked up for me this week, chef,” she remarks at one point.

“You know I ain't really a professional chef, right?” he chuckles. “I dropped out of culinary school actually.”

“Really? Why?” 

He lifts a shoulder. “I wasn't having fun. I love cooking, I love making food and feeding people, but I didn't wanna do it the way they train you to, you know, cooking in a restaurant or joining the race to be the next big something. I like doing it this way. Getting to know people and cooking what they like. Feels like I'm paying the bills by cooking for friends and that's…” He clicks his tongue with a nod. “That's just perfect for me.”

“Well,” she says, smiling at how clearly he loves what he does. “You're still a chef. Definitely to me at least.”

He rises when the oven chimes, giving her a smile. 

“That's enough for me.”

The biscuits have filled the kitchen with the warm scent of vanilla – the same scent that's usually still barely lingering when she gets home.

He stays long enough to let them cool slightly and cut them and she watches as he arranges them on the trivet by the kettle, just as he always does. He packs his things up then and she sees him out, exchanging smiles and goodbyes.

She's still smiling when she finally goes upstairs to change for the evening and it takes her a while to identify the feeling.

She feels like she just got home from a really, really good date.

×

It wasn't a date, so she doesn't know why she's disappointed when she doesn't hear from him again over the week. She doesn't contact him either, trying to recategorize the evening in her mind. 

She's very pleasantly surprised, in that case, when she comes home the following Tuesday and he's still there. She knows by the smell of something sweet and nutty filling the air before she even gets to the kitchen. 

It's spotless this time. He's not all anxious energy this time either – he smiles when she peeks in, looking rather uncertain about his welcome, but it still makes something deep in her chest ache.

It's rather nice. To come home to a smile from someone.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hello.” She lets her smile ease his uncertainty and her tone ask her questions for her.

“I, uh, wanted to say thank you,” he explains. “For last week, when I was…when I wasn't feeling so great, for being so kind, letting me hang out for a while.”

She starts to wave it off again, but he continues.

“I made a little something special for ya. Something I can't really leave for you to reheat later,” he says, gesturing to the ovens. “If you want a little snack?”

She nods eagerly, kicking her heels off toward the stairs before she joins him.

He pulls a dish from the oven and sets it on the counter. He fiddles with something there, but she doesn't see what until her turns, sliding a round plate to the center of the island between them.

Whatever it is is perfectly golden brown, looks delicious and smells heavenly.

“Honey baked brie,” he informs her. “With some walnuts and some fig jam, tiny bit of rosemary.”

“Oh my god,” she almost moans. “And it's what, wrapped in pastry?”

“Yes, ma'am,” he smiles. “Thought it might be something you like.”

“I can tell you already you're correct,” she says, rounding the island to find them some forks. “I can't wait to taste it.”

“Let me know how you like it.” She frowns, but he's got a small smile when she looks up. “I'll let you…”

“You think I'm going to eat that entire thing myself?” she asks, lifting her brows as she pulls two forks from the drawer.

“Well, I know how much you like cheese,” he chuckles.

“I'll share,” she says, handing him a fork. “With you.”

She doesn't even have the patience to sit down – she slices her fork through the pastry and creamy brie begins to ooze out. She scoops it up with some pastry, catching a nut and a bit of fig and shoves it in her mouth. 

“Careful, it's hot–”

“Fuck me,” she mutters without thought.

It's delicious. Creamy and sweet and savory, the pastry flaky and buttery. It's rich and indulgent but not sickeningly so and she’s in love.

She's bringing another bite to her mouth when she realizes he's just smiling at her, pleased as punch.

“Please eat some,” she begs around her bite. “Because I can not eat all of this and I will if you leave me alone with it.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, cutting off a bite for himself. 

He hums, pleased with his handiwork. “Mm. Not to toot my own horn, but that's good.”

“Mm!” she hums, getting an idea. She steps away to the wine cooler, squatting down to look for one of her less frequent whites. She comes back with a pair of glasses and an off-dry Riesling.

“This was a bit too bright and citrus-y for me, but it might be gorgeous with this.”

“Okay. You’re the sommelier here, not me,” he says as she pours, then slides a glass to him.

“Oh, please, your pairings are always spot on.”

It does go nicely, complimenting every bite.

“God, this is lovely,” she tells him. 

“I'm glad you like it,” he mumbles around his own bite. 

“Did you make the pastry?”

He shakes his head. “No. Normally I would, but I didn't decide on this until I was shopping today and that takes some time.”

“How long did this take?”

She listens with interest as he explains how he made it, amazed at how straightforward it sounds.

“Christ, it sounds like I could make it.”

“Uh oh,” he says, eyes widening. “Am I talking myself out of a job?”

“Oh, hardly. Even if I figured out how to make everything you cook for me, I'd still keep you around,” she admits. “You’re good company.”

“Well, that's nice to know,” he smiles, eyes soft.

“Also, knowing how to definitely doesn't mean I actually have any desire to cook any of it myself,” she chuckles. “So you still have plenty of use.”

She winks with her teasing as his warm laugh has him tucking his chin, his crows feet deepening. 

“I see how it is.”

She can't help but take him in, delighted by how carefree he is today. God help her, she really does like him – she wants to know him better. He's so genuine, so unselfish and generous, and she wants to keep him smiling.

“Thank you,” she says when she finally really can't eat any more, maybe a quarter of the round of brie left on the plate. “That was very kind of you.”

“No, thank you,” he echoes. “It was nice last week, to sit and eat with someone and I needed it.”

She nods get agreement, leaning her hip against the counter.

“I won't, uh, make a habit of just hanging out here, though,” he says, presumably to reassure her.

Her brows tip, eyes on his as she lets out a disappointed, “No?”

His lips part, but he doesn't manage to form a response. It hardly matters – they're communicating plenty in their gazes, trading glances at each other's lips. The moment stretches, and stretches, her breath changing to suit the surplus beats of her heart at the intensity in his warm eyes.

He leans closer, tipping his head, and something jolts through the center of her when he kisses her. She returns the gentle pressure, daring to part her lips to close them against his. Her fingers curl into her hand at her hip with restraint, fighting the urge to sink into his hair or pull him closer.

It's too delicate, this lovely feeling, and draws a tenderness up through her she hasn't been able to find for months.

He eases back slowly and she catches the breath he stole. Her eyes open, finding his still closed and she watches his parted lips begin to tighten as he fights a smile. The sight inspires one of her own, pulling at her cheeks as he opens his eyes, the smile winning and straightening his mustache out.

“I, um…”

She rolls her lips into her mouth, not even trying for words. She has none.

He can't find any either.

She drives forward again, prepared this time with a little extra breath in her lungs, a little more confidence. He kisses her back with a little more something too and she can't restrain her hands anymore from rising to hold his face. She tries to imbue the motion of her lips with plenty of invitation, but it's not until she pulls back and he follows, wavering toward her, that he steadies himself with a hand on her hip. Her attention goes straight to the heat of it through her dress as it slides to a more respectable height on her waist.

“You are very welcome to linger here as much as you like actually,” she exhales.

“Oh, I feel welcome,” he says, voice low.

She grins, pulling him in again. “Do you?”

“I sure do.” 

He barely gets the words out before they're kissing again. She opens to him, tastes the brie and honey and the dry sweetness of the wine and finds it appropriate that he should be so indulgent. His hands finally make their way around her, narrowing the space between them even more. She's not sure when her arms found their way around his neck but they tighten there in response.

He doesn't let her go far when they part again, dropping a kiss on the corner of her mouth, her cheek. Her eyes close with the sensation, the scratch of his mustache and his warm lips. 

“I really like cooking for you,” he murmurs.

The way he says it makes it sound like a deep confession and she feels silly for how fluttery it makes her to hear. She smiles against his lips and discovers this isn't new information to her. It's in every bite.

“I know you do,” she says low in his ear. “I can taste it.”

“Can you?” He sounds surprised and pleased.

“Yes.” She guides him back to her lips. “I can.”

#i don't know how you accidentally write five thousand words of fanfiction but it happened to me... #a gift for you anon. just cause 💌 #also sorry the formatting sucks here but i don't feel like titling and tagging and summarizing and posting on ao3 rn #anon #tl drabbles

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 23

part 1 | part 22 | ao3

cw: alcohol, recreational drinking

Steve fusses with his hair in the side mirror again, tugging awkwardly at his borrowed clothes. He feels stupid, standing here fidgeting in the parking lot like some kind of nervous freshman, but half of Hawkins seems to be here tonight and Robin’s got him dressed like a loser — worn green flannel and a ripped black tee with a faded picture of The Smiths. Jesus. “Did you really have to dress me like this?” 

“What? You look cute!” 

“I look like I raided Jonathan Byers’ closet.”

“No, you look like someone a certain neighbor is going to be drooling over all night.” Steve’s grateful for the dark then; for the blush it hides on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault you don't know how to make a deal; if you wanted to borrow a specific shirt, you should have said so before we shook on it.”

“Besides,” she ignores him when he rolls his eyes at her, “you wouldn’t even let me smudge eyeliner on your lower lash line like I wanted to, so I really don't feel like you’ve earned complaining privileges.” 

“I’ll complain if I fucking want to,” he grumbles under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair one more time, then forces himself to look away from the mirror. Rolls his shoulders back and down. “He’s not even here, anyway.”

“Ah-ha! So you did check.” She links their arms together, starts dragging Steve across the uneven gravel, her ankles wobbling in her low-heeled boots. “‘Just looking for a good parking spot,’ my ass. God, I’m always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct. I should really play the lottery next time I visit my grandparents..."

“Uh huh.” He’s not sure what luck and correctness have to do with each other, but sure.

She stumbles over a rock; pushes into his side, grinning, “I’m serious! I’ll play the lottery, and I’ll win big, and then you’ll see. Might even split my winnings with you if you’re nice to me.” 

“I’m literally so nice to you all the time, but okay. Can’t wait to take half your earnings when you get ten bucks off a scratcher.” 

“Hey, five bucks is five bucks! That’s like an hour and a half of our lives.”

Jesus Christ. “That’s just depressing.”

They walk arm and arm down the narrow footpath to the party — ferns brushing their calves, dry dirt beneath their shoes kicking up tiny clouds of dust — and as the path opens up Steve sees the place is packed. More packed than the overstuffed parking lot let on. There are people scattered over the picnic grounds in groups of fours and fives, a full dance floor under the main pavilion; a DJ set up at the front with food and drink stands to the side; a giant bowl of spiked punch; a tower of solo cups; a couple of coolers filled with beer.

In the surrounding grass he sees more tables, more people. A couple of guys he remembers from swim team rally around an arm wrestling match; another group plays beer pong on a brown fold-up table that they definitely stole from someone’s church. There's a circle of burnouts playing hacky sack behind a tree.

The bonfire burns brightly on the hillside in the distance, and beyond that he spots the faint glow of trail lights leading up to a bridge under the falls. 

Part of him wants to follow the trail. Shake Robin off, pretend like he’s going to take a leak. Find a nice rocky overhang to camp under for a while.

Listen to river sounds. Gentle slosh; cricket buzz.

Maybe he gets drunk up there alone. Maybe he just enjoys the solitude; lies on a rock on his belly by the icy river’s edge, swirls his hand in frigid water and doesn't dream of dark brown curls.

“Steve?” Robin nudges him. “You good?”

Another, much less annoying part of him reminds him that he’s Steve Goddamn Harrington. He knows how to have a good time at a party.

Who cares if he feels too old to be here, or if it’s weird to see so many faces that used to call him Captain or King? Who cares that he's one smudge of eyeliner away from looking like a full-blown new wave art freak?

He’s not about to slink off to do depressed weirdo wallflower shit when the DJ’s playing Wham!

“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You want a drink?” 

“Yes, please.” 

—

The drinks are strong.

Steve’s pretty sure the punch bowl is a lot more hunch than punch, but there’s still no sign of Vickie, and Robin’s getting that sad little stress wrinkle between her brows about it, so Steve says bottoms up and starts chugging. 

They wince their way through two cups each. Robin plugs her nose on the second one like she’s about to do a high dive, and Steve laughs and takes her hand, leading her into the crowd just as Take on Me comes on. The lights all blur together as they shimmy and shake and twirl, moving like a couple of dorks, but Steve’s having a great time. Bobbing his head to the beat; a big, dumb grin on his face as he moves his hips. Robin shouts “Watch this!” over the music, and the next thing he knows they’re competing to see who can bust the worst dance move. 

He brings out all the big guns, the full-groan dad maneuvers.

The sprinkler, the lawn mower, the fucking disco finger. 

Robin answers with a sloppy attempt at the robot, so he makes up a new move he calls be kind, rewind, and she laughs like a horse and pretends to walk down a flight of stairs.

She’s crouched into a goofy lunge, two steps into the ascent back up, when the song fades out and a ballad takes over. The crowd presses in to slow dance; Robin steps on someone's toes.

“Hey, watch it!” the person hisses.

Robin startles hard; knocks herself off-balance when she tries to stand up straight, babbling, "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! Are you- are you okay? I'm such a klutz, oh, my god, I'm—"

Steve snatches her up under the armpits; puts her back on her feet. Then he looks up and realizes who exactly she just stepped on. 

Well, shit.

—

part 24

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#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #st fic #robin buckley #jonathan byers #my writing #my fic