#DO YOU WANT ME TO KEEP GOING CAUSE I CAN-

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!! Can I request poly!marauders x fem reader as they join her lingerie shopping? The chaos would be endless

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: no smut but mdni please because this is definitely mature content, nudity, allusion to smut

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 638 words

It’s hard not to strut a little as you come out of your room. It had been James’ idea to utilize the store’s lenient return policy to simply get everything you liked and bring it all home to try on, and it was a stroke of genius. As soon as you’re in view, Sirius whistles loudly and Remus flushes a shade of pink that makes you certain he’d have fled the store if you’d done this there. 

“I rather like the strappy ones,” Sirius declares. 

“I don’t really see what, erm…” Remus’ brow furrows as he looks at your nipples. “What’s the point of wearing something that only goes around the things it’s meant to cover?” 

“I don’t think any of it should be covered,” says James. He’s reclined comfortably against the back of the couch, eating a banana while his eyes drink you in. 

Sirius nods in near feverish agreement. “It’s for easy access, Moony. This way you can suck on ‘em without taking anything off.” 

“Right, but her…” Remus looks at you as though in apology, and you swallow a laugh. He has no problem being crude when you’re in bed together, but any other time he’s inexplicably shy about it. “Dovey, your crotch is still covered.” 

“Taking it off is also part of the fun,” Sirius amends, speaking as though he’s teaching a class. “What do you think of this one, gorgeous?” 

You look down at the straps criss-crossing down your abdomen. Their satin isn’t uncomfortable, though you are a bit cold. Your nipples stand at attention. “It wasn’t easy to put on,” you admit. “But I wouldn’t mind it, I don’t think. You’d just have to be alright with waiting for me.” 

The smile Sirius gives you brings a tickle of warmth to your cheeks. “Of course we’d wait for you. Especially if it means we get such a lovely reward.”

You laugh. “I guess this is your favorite so far, then?” 

He winks. “I like anything on you, baby, you know that.” 

You’re taking that as a yes. “What about you, Jamie?” 

James takes the last bite of his banana, folding the peel over itself. “Honestly, I like it best when you’re not wearing anything. Not that you don’t look beautiful in all of them, of course,” he hurries to add. He relaxes when you smile. “If I have to pick a favorite, I did really like the blue one you had on earlier. You know, the one with the lace?” 

You hum, nodding. “I liked that one, too.” It’s very different from the one you have on now, sweet and sky blue as opposed to this brazen, salacious thing. “Remus?” 

“I think you look lovely in all of them,” he says equitably. 

You laugh. “Well, I can’t keep all of them.”

“Why not?” Sirius sounds outraged.

“B—because!” you guffaw. “It’s too many! I’d never wear them all. I’m only keeping three, the rest are going back.” 

“I’ll give you a chance to wear them all,” he bargains. 

“I’d have nowhere to put all of them.” 

“I will happily donate one of my drawers to the cause.” 

“I’m keeping three,” you say, aiming for stern despite the smile that won’t leave your lips. “Remus, pick.” 

Remus chuckles at your bossy tone, but his expression turns contemplative. “How many are left?” 

“I think…maybe four?” 

“Let’s see those, and then I’ll decide.” 

Fair enough. You turn to go change into your next ensemble, grinning to yourself when Sirius whistles again and James claps for the view of your backside. 

“Be thinking about your favorite, too,” Sirius calls after you. “Once we’re done, that’s the one we’ll tear off you.” 

“Do you really want to ruin what she’s just bought?” you hear Remus ask faintly. 

“Oh, my darling Moony. You really aren’t getting this, are you?” 

[hanasnx]

Hop hop 🐇 hiya bugs :). Can I use my super special Donnie privilege and request 6'11 Jason Todd and biting, Like, just absolutely sinking his fucking teeth in, borderline primal, while that fat cock bullies your pussy. The bites could be anywhere, everywhere, but especially the neck cause he wants to suck on your pulse while his dick fucks an orgasm outta ya and makes ya go limp. Im 4"11 and the size difference makes me dizzy. Work your indy magic if ya wanna but you don't even have to take this if ya dont cause it's um... it's January. My bad for being indecisive tbh. Bye imyyy 👋 🐇 hop hop

MINORS DNI 18+

NOTES: DC is for December Event! | IMPORTANT: do not use my 6’11!jason au without my explicit permission.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you spit, determined to get 6’11!JASON TODD to hear you even while he fills the room with the sounds of skin smacking skin. His monstrous hips plow into you from the back so hard it stings against yours ass, rippling the globes while he’s pinning you to the mattress with his strength and weight. Futilely, you’re bearing that weight, holding yourself up with your claws in the sheets, arching your back to keep your head raised—anything to try and be taken seriously right now. Yet, you flinch with every violent sheath, getting speared on a length so insane it’s unfathomable for it to bottom out without an ache.

You squeeze your eyes shut, choked noises releasing from your throat in pained chuffs, unable to decipher whether you hate it or love it. Your cunt certainly does, sopping around his dick, getting cream all up in his pubes. He has yet to say anything to retort, his teeth having sunk into your neck and remained there. If you think anything is painful about the way he’s fucking you, it’s nothing compared to the concentrated pressure in the most vulnerable part of you. Your exposed jugular latched onto like he’s some animal, fangs sinking into your skin to pin you while he uses you. His massive body spans you nearly twice over, blanketing you in an escapable landscape, having plowed you into a prone bone position from doggy. When you try to turn your head, an attempt to get him to release you, a rough growl of frustration releases from his nose.

For one second, his jaw unlocks, and relief floods in, a breeze hitting that wet and fresh dental print. You can’t see them, but you can feel how deep the indents of his canines are. As quickly as it came, he bites back down for a better grip, and this time you cry out in a moan. The new angle hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars, while the sensation of the pain heightens the pleasure. You’re not talking shit anymore, instead your cunt is drooling around him while he’s got your life in his mouth.

[woniedarlin]

Hi! I actually absolutely love your fic of jungwon being down bad for tsundere reader so I was wondering if you could write something where the roles are reversed and jungwon is the tsundere one 🤍

Chasing a Tsundere

pairing: tsundere! Jungwon x fem! reader

synopsis: You fell for Jungwon—hard. Unfortunately for you, he just had to be the grumpiest, most emotionally unavailable person ever to exist. He pushed you away, rolled his eyes at your persistence, and made it very clear he wasn’t the romantic type.

But giving up? Not an option. Because this is Jungwon we’re talking about.

author's note: Hello, my lovelies! This was so much fun to write. Big thanks to Anonie for the request—I hope you enjoy it! Happy reading!

caution: cursing and a bit of angst (tell me if there’s more!) , this story contains excessive tsundere behavior and a very persistent main character. Side effects may include secondhand embarrassment. Read at your own risk!

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n

You leaned over Jungwon’s desk with your brightest smile, holding out a bento box wrapped in a pink cloth. “I made this for you. It’s your favorite! I even cut the veggies into stars!”

"Tch," Jungwon dismissed. "I don't want that disgusting slop."

If only he could have tasted that heavenly creation at least once. I mean, imagine turning down a homemade dish made with such effort? Poor you, who only deserved so much more.

He barely glanced up from his textbook as his pen continued to scribble down notes. “Why would I eat food from someone who burns toast?”

You pouted and clutched the bento to your chest. “That was one time, Jungwon. One time! Besides, I didn’t burn this.”

"I don't want your germs. Who knows what kind of gross crap is in there," he said; in which you glanced around the classroom; a few of your friends sent pity looks on your way. No one understood why you were so smitten with him, but they respected it nonetheless.

A few of your classmates looked to be in a similar state of enchantment. Maybe you should try it with them instead of the grinch?

"What do I have to do to make you go away?” Jungwon's words sting a bit.

“I don’t know.’’

You weren't even slightly intimidated or bothered, which was amusing. Most people would have backed off, but you just stood there. It wasn't enjoyable but also somewhat impressive. Not that he'd ever admit that. A long sigh erupted from his lips as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He slammed his pen down, causing a few heads to turn, but he cared little. “Sit. Down. Go bug someone else.” He gritted out through clenched teeth.

”Please accept?’’ you showed the bento.

You were persistent with your efforts; he had to commend you for that, though he’d never admit it to your face. That would give you too much of an ego boost.

He eyed the bento in your hand, his stomach betraying him by growling quietly. He hadn’t eaten all lunch, so the aroma of the homemade food was almost too tempting to resist. But still, the stubbornness won out. "No. I’m not interested in your food. Why do you insist on wasting your efforts on me?”

“Please?”

Shit. He couldn’t help but think, “How can I say no to someone so sweet?”

He sighed, finally looking at you with that familiar, unimpressed stare. “Just leave it on the desk. I’ll think about it.”

A small victory! You quickly set the box down. “I knew you couldn’t resist. I’ll see you later!” You skipped away before he could respond.

He glanced between the bento and the door you’d disappeared through. His stomach growled once more, begging to be fed. With another sigh, he opened the bento box and slowly ate. “Not bad…”

☔️

The rain fell hard as you stood at the school gates, holding your bag to keep it dry. You sighed and watched the heavy rain, getting ready to run for it. Just as you were about to leave, a familiar voice called out to you.

"You planning on running out in that weather? Do you have a death wish or something?"

Jungwon approached you, umbrella in hand. Before you could even respond, he thrust the umbrella into your hands. “Take it,” he said curtly, glancing at you for only a second before entering the rain, completely unprotected.

“Wait!” you called after him, holding the umbrella out. “What about you?” You extended the umbrella, an offer of protection from the relentless rain. Jungwon paused, glancing at you over his shoulder.

"I don't need it."

His face didn't reveal it, but the gesture touched him. He had been trying to push you away, to make you dislike him, but all you did was offer him shelter from the downpour when you needed it. He couldn't help but admit the irony.

“Don’t catch a cold, idiot.”

☔️

It was another typical day. The hallways were busy with students. But all you could think about was how warm Jungwon’s arm felt as you held onto him.

You had been walking together, but you wanted to be closer. So, you wrapped your arm around his and rested your head on his shoulder. You felt the tension leave your body as you relaxed into him. He was always warm, and being this close to him felt right.

You noticed Jungwon stiffen almost instantly, his eyes widening. “What are you—” he started, his fingers twitching slightly, unsure what to do, before reluctantly relaxing. Slowly, Jungwon’s shoulders relaxed, and the scowl that so often resided on his face faded away. You felt his arm loosen, “Weirdo,” he muttered.

For the rest of the walk, you were quiet. Strangely.

He led you through the crowded school corridors, expertly weaving around the students and making a ruckus. Eventually, he spoke up. " Are you okay?" he asked, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

“More than okay,” you sighed, a dreamy smile forming. “I’m in love.”

Jungwon scoffed. “Love? Seriously?” he retorted. “You fall too hard.”

Suddenly, a girl appeared out of nowhere, walking up to Jungwon and batting her eyelashes at him. “Hey, Jungwon,” she cooed, giving him a flirty smile. “You look so handsome today.”

Oh, the audacity.

You felt your grip on his arm tighten, and without thinking, you made a slight hissing noise under your breath. Like an actual cat. Because that’s totally normal behavior.

Jungwon looked at her blankly. "Uh, thanks," he said, shifting his weight to put some distance between her and himself. After a few moments of awkward silence, the girl caught the hint and excused herself, shooting you a dirty look before sauntering away.

You furrowed your eyebrows. Jungwon noticed and let out a long sigh. He reached over with his free hand, gently touching your arm. "Hey, hey, calm down, alright? I can practically see the green flames of envy raging in your eyes," he says with annoyance. "She means nothing. No one does."

He pauses, "Except you, I guess?" he mumbles under his breath, his voice so low you missed it.

☔️

You were hauling a heavy box of basketball equipment to the gym hours later when a sharp voice stopped you.

"You're an idiot to carry that much all at once. Hand it over before you collapse." Jungwon came out from the corner with a frown on his face. He eyed the box in your arms and rolled his eyes as he took it from you, holding it quickly. “This is what happens when you don’t ask for help.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you replied with a sheepish smile. “The team needed help—”

He shook his head. "There's helpful, and then there's being too nice. You've got to stop saying 'yes' to everyone. That was what? A 40-kilogram box of balls and equipment? Your back would’ve snapped in two by lunch."

Jungwon continued, "Besides, Do they not have arms? If you need help, ask me.”

You opened your mouth to protest but hesitated when you noticed his face, “I’m fine, really,” you reassured him.

"And that's the problem. 'I'm fine.' What happens when, one day, you're not? When you're tired or overwhelmed and still say 'I'm fine' while falling apart inside?" He scolded you, "It's okay to say 'no,' and it's okay to ask for help. Do you not understand? This isn’t a game, and you’re not invincible!"

He turned and walked away, his final words echoing down the hall.

"Don't wait for a mistake to learn."

You didn’t expect this from him.

☔️

For weeks, you did everything. You put in the effort that he rejects, but on rare occasions, he accepts it. Well, you force him to take it. After classes, you were sitting on the rooftop, watching the view. For once, you weren’t seeking Jungwon out; you were trying to gather your thoughts.

Were you tired of chasing someone who always seems to push you away? Absolutely.

Jungwon noticed you perched on the rooftop. He couldn't help but wonder, what's got her so down? He knew he was causing you heartache but he also knew that with every rejection, you came back with more effort. He wanted you to see him as what he truly was. A jerk. Someone not worthy of your devotion... but you never seemed to give up, that determination was something else.

He wondered if he may have gone too far…

“Hey.”

His voice startled you, and you turned to see him standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“What are you doing here?” you asked softly.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, walking closer. “You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

You looked away, fidgeting with your hands. “I… I don’t think I should bother you anymore.”

Jungwon froze. “What are you talking about? Bother me? You’re not…” He trailed off, then sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I’m an ass. I push people away and make it seem like I don’t want anyone’s company. But you… you never left, even when I wanted you to.” He sat down next to you, keeping a comfortable distance.

“I mean… you’re always annoyed with me. I just figured…” You trailed off, biting your lip.

“Stop saying that,” he interrupted, his tone sharper than usual.

“You think I enjoy acting like a jerk to everyone?“ He let out a humorless laugh, his eyes focusing on the horizon. ”The truth is, I am afraid to open up, to let people in because I know how easily they can break me.” He glanced at you briefly before averting his eyes again. “I’ve seen it happen to my parents and my friends. I don’t want to be another sad soul wandering the world broken.”

You hesitated before whispering, ‘’I’m sorry…’’

“Don’t apologize. Hell, I’m sorry. I’ve been so caught up in pushing you away that I didn’t even realize how much you were trying to get closer to me. I don’t deserve your attention, let alone your kindness.”

He continued, “You’re not… You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met, sure. But if you stopped being around…” He trailed off, looking away as his cheeks turned red. “I’d probably hate it.”

“Jungwon…”

“What? It’s true. I don’t know when or how it happened… but my day feels..lacking if you’re not there.” He shrugged as though admitting that wasn’t a big deal. “So…don’t you dare think about stopping.” He added sternly. “I like you, alright?”

“Thank you…for liking me back’’ you said shyly.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “Don’t get all mushy on me. You make it sound like I’d run into a burning building for you. I like you, but it’s not like I would get matching tattoos or serenade you under your window.”

“But will you?’’

He scoffed. “Really? Of all the things I’ve said, that’s what you focus on?” He shook his head, then looked directly into your eyes. “Fine. Yes, I'd run into a burning building for you. I’ll do anything for you. Happy now?’’

“Very.’’ You giggled, ‘’Come on, walk me home, boyfriend.’’

“Boyfriend?”

He raised an eyebrow at your quick upgrade in the relationship. “You're lucky I like you cause anyone else suggesting that might've been laughed out of the school." He stood up, dusting off his pants and offering you a hand. "Well, come on, girlfriend.“

☔️

Days later…

You sat across from Jungwon at the small restaurant table, your heart doing little flips every time he glanced your way, even though his usual unimpressed expression hadn’t faltered since you arrived. The date wasn’t even bad—just, well, awkward. But awkward in a way that had you wanting to laugh every five seconds because of how seriously Jungwon took things.

Like now.

He's been staring at his menu for ten minutes. It's three pages long, and each item has a picture next to it. How complicated can it be?

"What's taking you so long?" you say, resting your chin in your hand.

"Shut up." He replies, never taking his eyes off the menu. “Do you want water?” he asked, his brows slightly furrowed.

“Uh, sure?” you said, smiling awkwardly.

He waved the waiter over and ordered two glasses of water. After all this careful deliberation, he's just ordering water?

He barely looked at you as he added, “Bring her water. Lemon water.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, which Jungwon noticed.

Jungwon blinked at you, tilting his head slightly. “What? You don’t like lemon?”

He looked a bit hurt at the rejection of his thoughtfulness. This was the same guy who'd throw paper planes at the teacher but couldn’t handle not knowing if you liked lemon in your water? You were so endeared that it took every ounce of self-control not to squeal.

“Oh, no, you’re adorable today,” you assured him, finally letting out a soft laugh.

“Cool,” he managed, cheeks turning pink as he looked down at the table.

“No, I mean—it’s just water,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ll live either way.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly. “It’s not a big deal. Just let me handle it.”

The corner of your lips quirked up. Why is he so serious about water?

The date went on, and the conversation flowed a little more naturally (after you decided to do most of the talking). Jungwon, though, still had his moments. “So, how much do you like me?” you teased halfway through your meal, grinning at him over the rim of your glass.

He choked on his drink.

He coughed, hitting his chest slightly as he cleared his throat. You didn’t think the question warranted that kind of reaction. But then again, you talked to the boy who spent ten minutes deciding whether he should get fries. “W-what kind of question is that?” he asked once he regained composure

You leaned in a little, resting your chin on your palm. “I’m just curious. Am I your type?”

He met your gaze, his eyes softening slightly. It was the first time all evening he'd looked directly at you without an expression of mild annoyance.

“What, you think I’m here for the ambiance?” he replied, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You’re… not that bad a company when you’re not talking about nothing.”

It is a backhanded compliment, but from Jungwon, it might as well be a love confession.

“So,” you continued. “How much do you think I like you?”

Jungwon avoided your gaze, shoving a piece of meat into his mouth to avoid answering. “You’re so annoying,” he muttered, cheeks puffed slightly as he chewed. He ran a hand through his hair, looking quite flustered. His eyes darted around, possibly seeking an escape route. No dice, he’s sitting opposite you in a relatively small restaurant.

He asked again, “What kind of question even is that?”

“A valid one,” you teased, grinning. “But you’ll have to pay me if you want the answer.”

He frowned, confused. “Pay you?”

“Yeah, like—give me, I don’t know... probably 500,000 won, and I’ll tell you all my secrets.” You held up your hands dramatically.

“You said 500,000 won, didn’t you?” he said, pulling out the exact amount and sliding it across the table with an entirely serious expression. “Here. Talk.”

He stared at you expectantly, looking like he expected you to take the money and answer. It was a ridiculous situation. Here you were, in a normal restaurant on a Friday night, with your new boyfriend, who had just put 500,000 won on the table, waiting to know how much you liked him.

It took every ounce of will in your body not to laugh. Oh, he’s so cute…

Your jaw dropped. “Jungwon, I was joking!”

He froze, the faintest flush creeping up his cheeks. “What?”

You could see the cogs turning in his head as if he was contemplating what to do with you now. The situation was getting more absurd, and you pressed your lips together to keep from laughing. It was probably rude to laugh in his face when he just tried to pay you for the information he thinks is valuable.

Still, you laughed.

“I didn’t actually mean it!” you laughed, pushing the money back toward him. “I wouldn’t charge you to know something like that.”

He looked down at the table, “Yeah, well, you started it,” he muttered, returning the money. After a few seconds, he slid a 50,000 won bill across the table, looking slightly embarrassed. “Fine. But this will do?”

He looked up at you, his gaze uncertain. You smiled, tucking this little tidbit of information away for later. The Jungwon is willing to pay you to know you like him. What a night.

“Jungwon, you don’t have to pay me.’’

“Look,” he said, looking at you pointedly. “Just..” He huffed, rubbing a hand across his face. “Just take the damn money, okay? It’s not like I’m breaking the bank here.”

He nudged the money towards you again, his eyes holding a silent plea. Clearly, he didn’t know how else to go about the situation, resorting to his only known means of communication: his wallet.

“Uh…okay?” You accepted it with amusement.

He smiled, nodding in relief. “Good. Now what…what were you saying before?” He asked, trying to hide his embarrassed flush with a cough. “About how much you like me,” he mumbled, his words barely audible.

“You know, you’re too serious,” you teased, poking at his hand lightly. “But I still like you anyway.”

Jungwon looked away, but a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “Hmph,” he finally said, flicking a sugar packet towards you. “You’re not so bad yourself. In small doses.”

☔️

The date continued similarly. You’d offer to split the bill, but he’d insist on paying. You’d reach for the menu, but he’d swat your hand away, insisting on ordering for you instead.

He was trying hard, and you couldn’t help but adore him even more despite the awkwardness.

Just as you finished teasing Jungwon, music began to play in the restaurant. The lively beat echoed through the room as the servers clapped their hands and started encouraging diners to join them in the center of the floor to dance. You perked up immediately. “Oh my gosh, Jungwon! They’re dancing!”

He glanced at the crowd gathering in the middle of the restaurant and frowned. “Yeah, I can see that. What about it?”

“Let’s go!” you squealed.

His brows shot up. “What? No way.”

“Come on!” You were already out of your seat, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. He barely had time to protest as you dragged him toward the impromptu dance floor.

“I don’t dance,” he muttered, resisting slightly, but you didn’t let go.

“Well, you’re about to learn!” you declared with a grin, already swaying to the music as you pulled him into the crowd.

Jungwon looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole, but he sighed in defeat as you started twirling. He awkwardly moved his arms, shuffling his feet in time with yours. “This is embarrassing,” he grumbled, his face heating up.

“You’re doing great!” you cheered, beaming at him as you twirled again, laughing. “Come on, loosen up a little!”

“Loosen up?” he echoed incredulously. “I’m not a dancer!”

“You don’t have to be! Just have fun!” You reached for his hands, placing them on your waist as you guided his movements. “See? Not so bad!”

Jungwon muttered something under his breath, but his steps started to match yours. He tried to keep a scowl on his face, but the way you were laughing so freely made it impossible for him to stay annoyed.

“You’re smiling!” you teased,

“I’m not,” he argued, though the pink tint on his cheeks betrayed him.

“You are! Oh, Jungwon, you’re having fun!”

“I’m not having fun,” he deadpanned; his hands didn’t leave your waist as you swayed together.

“You’re lying,” you sang, twirling yourself and accidentally stepping on his foot.

“Ow—okay, now I’m definitely not having fun!” he groaned, wincing.

You gasped. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered, shaking his head. But when you smiled sheepishly up at him, his chest felt lighter despite himself.

As the song ended and the crowd cheered, you clapped your hands excitedly. “That was so much fun!”

He sighed, muttering, “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” but the faint smile never left his face as you pulled him back to your seats.

☔️

The evening had been fantastic, but it was time to say goodbye. The cool night air surrounded you as you reached your front door. Jungwon walked you home, although he hardly admitted that he liked it. Every second of it.

“Alright,” he said, avoiding your eyes as you stood by your door. “You should lock the door when you get inside. And… don’t forget to check the windows too. It’s late, and you never know.”

You couldn’t help but smile at how concerned he sounded, even though he tried so hard to hide it. “Got it, Jungwon. Thanks,” you said, already knowing how sweet he was, even if he’d never admit it.

He shuffled on his feet, clearly not ready to leave just yet. “I’ll… I’ll call you when I get home, okay? Just in case. And make sure you don’t open the door for anyone unless you’re sure it’s them. You’re… you’re too nice, okay? People could take advantage.” You could hear a slight shake in his voice as he talked on. “And, uh… make sure you stay safe, alright?” He finally looked at you with worry.

You couldn’t help but giggle at how adorable he was being. You stepped a little closer to him, surprising him with a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll be fine, Jungwon,” you said softly. “And thank you. For everything.”

His face turned a deep shade of red, and he immediately turned his head away, muttering something that sounded like, “I-I wasn’t doing this for you to kiss me, okay?” But his voice was quieter now, a little softer than usual.

You laughed, enjoying the moment, but before he could say anything else, you stepped back and smiled at him. “Call me when you get home, okay?”

He nodded quickly, still blushing furiously. “Yeah, I will. You—don’t—don’t worry about me!” he stammered, turning on his heel to leave. But just as he was about to walk away, he stopped and turned back toward you, his face hidden in his hands.

“I-I love you, alright?!” he shouted, his voice cracking. He quickly turned away, clearly embarrassed, and started walking briskly down the street.

You stood there, frozen for a moment, a broad smile slowly spreading. That was all he needed to say, and you knew exactly how much he cared. You couldn’t help but laugh softly to yourself, feeling your heart flutter as you watched him walk off.

“Love you too, Jungwon,” you whispered to the night air, knowing he wouldn’t hear. But somehow, it felt like the most perfect moment.

[Extra Scene]

Months later…

Jungwon lay on his bed with his phone resting on a pillow. He looked at you through the screen.

“You miss me, don’t you?”

You scoffed as you shifted under your covers. “We saw each other three hours ago.”

He hummed. “That’s three hours too long.”

“Why are you smiling like that?” you asked while squinting at him through the screen.

He glanced at you and smirked. “What, I can’t smile?”

“Not like that,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “You look like you’re up to something.”

Jungwon sighed dramatically as he turned onto his side. “Can’t a guy just admire his girlfriend?”

You scoffed. “You’re so full of it.”

“I’m serious,” he said, resting his chin on his hand. “You look cute today.”

You blinked. “…It’s a video call. You can barely see me properly.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied smoothly. “You’re always cute.”

His door suddenly creaked open before you could even think of a response.

“Mom! He’s at it again!”

Jungwon’s head snapped toward the door, his face instantly turning sour. His older sister stood there, arms crossed, and seemed to be entertained at her brother, who was way out of character.

You burst into laughter.

Jungwon groaned. “Can you not?”

“Oh, wait—” She smirked, peeking at the screen. “Hi! Are you the poor soul who has to listen to his crap every day?”

You bit your lip, trying so hard not to laugh. “Hi…”

“Oh my God.” Jungwon groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow and chucking it toward the door. “OUT!”

His sister dodged effortlessly. “Okay, okay, lover boy! calm down.” She wiggled her fingers at you. “Bye, future sister-in-law!”

“Just saying! You’re embarrassing,” she said to Jungwon while backing out of the room.

‘’GET OUT!’’

The door shut, leaving Jungwon lying there, face buried in his pillow.

You were still giggling. “Lover boy?”

He exhaled sharply as he peeked through the screen. “We’re never talking about this again.”

You grinned. “Sure, lover boy.”

“Okay, I’m hanging up.”

“No, you’re not.”

“…No, I’m not,” he admitted and groaned.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

HELP ME PLEASE

Your quinn is literally my favorite!!!!!!!!!!! Can you write him and reader!girlfriend on the phone after the stars game? Your sweet/sad quinn is the best!!!!!!!!!

Oh, you're WAY TO KIND TO ME...! 🥹🥹 Let's see what I can do!

All you had texted was, "I love you."

Incoming Call: Quinny

Quinn's broken voice in that post-game interview had killed you. The way he had looked down before answering about how he was feeling, his thoughts on Millsy's trade, and how he was handling the noise of the dressing room as the team's captain -- it was obvious how much it all was affecting him. Unfortunately, you were twenty-two-hundred miles away, and you felt powerless to help him in any form.

"Hey, baby," you said upon answering the call.

Quinn's voice was low, and it was obvious he was beyond exhausted, body and mind, "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course." Your stomach tightened like you were about to receive some bad news. You hadn't heard him sound this way before and given how the day had gone, you knew it wasn't going to be a butterfly-inducing conversation.

"Let me get somewhere a little quieter. I need to hear your voice."

To you, he sounded desperate -- like he was at his breaking point. While you waited for him to walk to wherever he needed to be, you couldn't help but worry about him -- about what had caused him pain during the game, how losing JT and the others was weighing on him, and the stress of the upcoming tournament that was just four games away. You couldn't get the sad look of his face out of your mind. When was the last time he had actually had a good day, that he was happy without nagging stresses?

"Hey Mike, I'm gonna step out for a few minutes," Quinn said, obviously not talking to you. You couldn't hear the other man's reply but it must have been favourable as Quinn would finally start his conversation with you just a few seconds afterwards.

He sighed heavily, "I wish you were here. I-- I feel like everything is out of control and I don't know what to do."

The sound of wind was intertwined with his words. You wondered if he had stepped outside the arena to talk to you, somewhere to speak without listening ears.

"I wish I was there, too," you confessed, a pain growing in your heart. "You're trying to carry too much, baby."

"I have no choice, though."

You knew where he was coming from. The title of Captain meant you wore several hats, and sometimes more than one at a time. You knew he had all of them on at once. This season hadn't been easy, and something had you believing it wasn't going to get any better.

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," he breathed out, feeling guilty for calling you when he was feeling like he was. "I'm sorry to put this on you. I just don't know what to do. Everyone is looking to me for answers and insight, but I don't have any. I don't know how to fix the team, I'm carrying as much as I can every night. I'm asked about what's going on behind closed doors and the temperature of the room and I'm over it. It's like the media just wants to keep stirring the pot instead of letting us just work it out. Now I'm being asked about if the team rebuilds what that means for my future in Vancouver. I-- I just-- I can't-- handle everything right now." Your heart was breaking hearing him on the brink of tears. His voice was cracking and shaky. "I need you."

"I wish I was there, sweetheart. I'd do anything I could to help you."

"I love you," his voice at a whisper.

"I love you, too, Quinn."

The first whimper made you cover your mouth to keep yourself from doing the same. Quinn rarely cried, at least not when you were around. To hear him finally drop that ultra-reserved demeanour of his was crushing.

"Oh honey, you'll be okay," you tried to reassure him, but they were words without certainty, you knew that. "You're doing the best you can, and you need to realise that you need to put yourself first sometimes. You're pushing yourself too much. It's not on you to solely fix the team, Quinn, though I know you're trying. I've never seen you this way before, and I'm scared it's going to break you."

He was silent on the other end, aside from his muffled cries. You didn't need him to say anything, though hearing his voice would have made you feel better, which made you remember what he had said to you earlier: "I need to hear your voice."

Maybe he just needed you to talk to him.

"One day at a time, baby, please. Be happy where you are, and what you have. You're doing all you can, and I need you to know that it's okay to struggle, but it's also okay to be content with how things are. You know there are things out of your control, and you just have to let them work themselves out sometimes. You'll drive yourself crazy trying to put bandaids on everything. I don't want to lose you down that rabbit hole." You'd pause before adding one more thing, "I just want you to be okay."

Quietly you'd sit there and wait for a sign from him, or whatever it might be. A long moment of silence would follow your words, making you pull the phone away from your ear to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

"I miss you," he choked out, breaking the painful silence between the two of you.

"I miss you more, Quinn. I wish you were here."

"Me, too," he said, sharply inhaling, like he was trying to push those emotions back down and get over it. "Thank you for picking up everything -- the call, the pieces...me. I'd be so lost without you."

You'd shake your head, "You never have to thank me, baby. I just want to help you."

"I appreciate that," he sniffled. "I just wish I knew where to start."

"With yourself, Quinn," you said bluntly. "How are you feeling? I saw you take the stick to the head early."

It took him a few seconds to respond but you didn't mind, "I don't know, honestly. Between my hand and whatever is wrong with my leg, everything hurts. I'm tired. I'm drained. I wish I was home with you."

Everything he said carried so much weight and his emotions were so painfully honestly.

That was just Quinn.

He always spoke from his heart; wearing his heart on his sleeve every waking moment of his life. However this had a different air about it -- a nakedness. He was free to share his deepest fears with you, those raw feelings were bleeding from him with no hindrance. You appreciated that he felt so comfortable to open up like he was, and the fact that he was away from you, as well. Quinn didn't give the hint that he shared stuff like this with the guys on the team -- not like he did with you. You were different. He loved you -- you occupied a special piece of his heart like no on else did. That meant something special to him.

"You'll be home soon, baby. Just a little longer, okay?"

Through Quinn's end of line, someone was calling out to him, "C'mon Quinn-- the boy's are packing up, let's go."

You frowned hearing the empty orders, but you knew Quinn would have to end the call with you and head to the airport. There was always a sense of urgency after their games, especially the away ones.

"Yeah-- I'll be right there," he muttered, his voice dropping off at the end while he pretended to have himself together. "I'll call you when we get back to Vancouver."

"Be careful."

"I will," he paused. "Thanks, babe. For all that you do for me."

"Happy to help, Quinny. I love you."

For the first time, you heard his little giggle, "I love you, too."

[munybagd]

NEW POST FROM @munybagd

i am going to fuck him … i have a thing for men that moan especially the ones with deep voices .. mm makes my toes sweat 😛 ( NSFW )

whimpers came out as he tried his best to talk “ mmm fuck baby p-please,” his nail dug into your hips as he helped you bounce on his cock faster. he didn’t want you to stop — oh no, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself if you stopped .. maybe he would cry or beg on his knees. honestly, he would do anything for you to keep going. “ oh yeah … don’t stop — i w-want you to make a mess of m-me ” oh he looked so pretty under you … tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked at you -sucking on your fingers .. he so nasty but you like it. LINK 1

he fucks you sooo good that he’s moaning too. “ o-oh my good girl .. my good fucking girl ” his plan is slut you out doesn’t matter if it’s in the bed, living room, kitchen, or even the car. he wants you a moaning mess which slowly turns him into a moaning mess as well. “ yeahhh th-there you go .. mm you’re daddy’s good girl, taking my c-cock so fucking well ” It’s like a race ‘ who can tap out first ’ by the way he moans you would think it’s him with his heavy breathing but little do you know that this is just the beginning.. LINK 2

sensitive, dom, and a moaning mess … he is a three-in-one! gosh, you love it — the way he sharply breathes in when he strokes his cock into you, the way he moans in between words, and the way he talks dirty to you excites you. “ mm s-say it .. u-use your words, baby ” makes you wanna cum right then and there. he loves hearing you talk, even if it’s just babbling, it makes him smile, but not like you would know cause his face is pressed against your neck due to him leaving deep bite marks. LINK 3

( BOUNS )

no shame in his game . he enjoys making audios for you, especially in random places it’s his favorite thing to do and he ALWAYS sends them to you when you’re out and about. “ guess where i-i’m at baby — mm i’m in our parking g-garage ” things like this turns him on and he knows that you get to turn on hearing him slur and stutter on his words. “ i-i-i have our f-favorite toy .. fuck i wish y-you were here to use it on m-me” gosh why does he do this to you and when you come home he acts like nothing is wrong :/ LINK 4

[followtheechoes]

earplugs are important!

this chart is from the rcgp website. it looks very similar to the one my instructor gave us in a course I took in college on bioacoustics and hearing aid technology. the risk of hearing loss with normal everyday sounds goes up with the amount of time you spend listening with no protection.

if you need a less scientific explanation and a more personal one instead, consider this:

my dad has had tinnitus longer than I've been alive and he has difficulty in crowded restaurants because the ambient noise of the radio and people talking is at just the right frequency to cause him pain. his hearing loss was from standing right next to a speaker at a concert when the mic started giving feedback. my mum has bad hearing for unrelated reasons but she told me she was sure all the concerts didn't exactly help. I have spent my entire life translating conversations between my parents because they keep having conversations while they're in seperate rooms and mishearing everything the other says. if my mum is sick there's basically no point in talking to her without shouting. my dad has a hard time being around small kids because the sound of them screaming or laughing is at just the right pitch to hurt, and I deliberately made my voice lower as I grew up because I knew high pitched sounds were painful, especially close to him. I learned early to communicate face to face, because if I have a conversation with either of my parents without them being able to read my lips (say, if we're in the kitchen fixing ourselves lunch), they'll assume it isn't important or mishear. I love my parents, and this has it's benefits (I'm better at talking to seniors, I'm more confident saying things directly to people in as few words as possible, I'm good at mediating between people who aren't understanding each other). I'm just saying that if you don't want this to be your/your children's life, and you go to a lot of concerts, please do look into hearing protection.

my mum got hearing aids at 55 and needed them for years before that (see: my entire childhood), and she was amazed at how much better things were for her. hearing aid technology has improved to an insane degree. she has a streamer which connects to her phone via bluetooth, so she can listen to music whenever she wants and no one will know. she told me she turns up the volume when her office is quiet and people are gossiping so she doesn't have to get involved but she still knows what's going on. she has a tiny, subtle microphone that can attach to her clothes or be placed nearer to the person she needs to hear, and when covid hit and her office started getting glass dividers, she was able to place her microphone on the other side of the divider and hear her clients. she's has told me what a relief it is not to have to nod along and hope she's laughing at the right moments. it's been ridiculously cool watching her step out of her comfort zone and get back into music as well.

my point being, hearing loss is not the end of your life, but it will make things different and more difficult, so please protect your hearing while you can!

[leighsartworks216]

Little White Dove

Sylus x gn!Reader

I've been doing a lot of perler bead stuff lately (I am Procrastinating) and I had the thought of gifting him something, but then had the second of doubt because of how childish it is. I should never doubt this man's love

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, anxiety, embarrassment, comfort, cuddling, kissing, domestic fluff

Word Count: 1,018

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Third Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

"Sy?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

You step into the room, hands behind your back. He quirks a knowing eyebrow as you cross over to his desk. You offer him a smile. It's a poor mask for your anxiety; rocking on your feet, biting your lip, struggling to hold eye contact with him. "I made you something~"

Sylus smiles, silently trying to assuage your fears as he leans back in his chair. "Do I have to guess what it is?" he teases lightly.

You laugh nervously. "No."

"Then, can I see it?"

You purse your lips and nod slowly. Still, you hesitate. It's only when his face drops into something more serious that you feel the window rapidly shutting on giving him your gift. So, quickly, you toss it onto the desk and make your way for the door.

You don't make it very far before tendrils of energy are lifting you off the ground and carrying you through the air. "Ah! Sylus, let me go!"

He tsks. You plop into his lap, his arm wrapping firmly around your waist to keep you there even as you squirm. "You're acting like you've rigged the place to explode. If that's the case, I should keep you here as collateral."

"Well, I didn't, so you can let me go now!" You shove at his arm. It doesn't so much as budge. All you manage to do is feel up his muscles, that he is certainly flexing just to get a rise out of you.

His other arm wraps across your chest, pulling you back into him solidly. He rests his chin on your shoulder. "Then stop squirming, kitten. You're only making yourself look more guilty."

You huff, but you stop. You glare at the floor, the wall - anywhere but him or his desk. Really, it's stupid. You made this damn thing for him, after all. It was your idea to gift it to him. And now you're trying to run away.

He kisses your cheek. You hear rather than see his Evol pick up the gift you left on his desk, as it comes to his hand at your shoulder. He loosens his hold on you to look at the item, his chin still resting on you as he flips it over in front of you.

It's small enough to fit in the palm of your hand. Though, it's dwarfed entirely in his own palm. Little melted beads come together to form a crow, with black and grey feathers. A red eye stares up at him.

He chuckles fondly. "It's Mephisto."

You nod slightly.

"Why were you so scared to give it to me?" His voice is a low rumble, soft and soothing. There's no teasing or judgement. You can feel his eyes on the side of your face.

You sigh. "It's just... I realized how stupid it is."

"What is?"

"To give you something like that. 'Cause it's supposed to be for kids. And you're, like, an awesome, badass mob boss."

You can feel the grin curling his lips as he kisses your skin again. "And you think those are grounds for me to not like it?"

When you don't speak, the answer is all too loud and clear. He holds the bead crow carefully in his hand as he wraps his arm back around you, hugging you closer, pulling you further into his lap so you have no choice but to sink into him.

"I will always love and cherish anything you give me. Whether it's a screaming toy flower or a rock you found." You want to hide in his neck, but he doesn't let you. His forehead finds yours, blocking your hideout and forcing you to meet his eyes. "If one day I don't wholeheartedly appreciate something you give me, don't hesitate to shoot me, because it must be an imposter."

You snort. "What if it is you?"

"Then I hope it's enough to bring me back to my senses. I'll have deserved it."

There's nothing but honesty and love in his eyes. Red irises shimmering with unbridled affection. You follow the line of his nose to his mouth, and the beautiful curve of his cupid's bow, before wriggling yourself loose. Just enough for his arms to be more lax around you, so you can open his hand and look at the little crow inside.

"You really like it?"

He chuckles. "Sweetie, weren't you listening?" He kisses your temple, lingering for a moment, as though he could transfer all his reassurances directly into your brain. "I love it. You should make it into a keychain for me. Then, I could always keep it on me."

You trace a finger idly along the melted beads. Some are more melted than others, a consequence of uneven heat distribution from the iron you plucked out of a closet and holding it on for a little too long. It's charming. You wonder if Mephisto would like it, or if he'd just try picking it apart like a toy.

Sylus's hand closes around the crow and your finger, drawing your attention back to him. "Can you show me how you made it?"

You blink dumbly at him. "Don't you have work to do?"

"It can wait. I'm much more interested in my dove's hobbies."

The embarrassment and anxiety from before feel like distant memories, fading away as you get up from his lap and grab his hand to drag him along to your makeshift setup in the dining room. He listens diligently as you explain the process to him and show him all the other little things you made. The little plastic tweezers look strange in his large hand as he picks the beads out of a container and aligns them on a pegboard. And seeing him carefully ironing the design is all too domestic. You can't help pulling him into a kiss once he's finished and his masterpiece is being pressed flat under some books.

A week later, while you race side by side on your motorcycles, a crow hangs from his keys in the ignition. And from yours, a little white dove.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry

[energ00n]

Omg! The recent art post with Jazz & D-16 just got me- AAHPKBIDLSJ! ITS SO GOOD! I GOTTA GO ON A NERD RANT NOW!

Definition of Fare: Noun- the price to pay for something(usually to pay for transportation or food). Verb- To succeed/be treated in a stated way. Or to progress or to be in a particular condition.

Here's the way I see it though:

Orion is probably unaware of how wrapped up he has Jazz & D-16, unaware of how in love they are in, but both mechs show/treat it differently.

Notice how with Jazz, Orion's garment is wrapped around his neck, but loose enough to slip freely at anytime. Almost as if it's a teasing/playful manner, which is how their relationship is presented to us. Jazz knows he can easily pull away, but doesn't cause, well, its Orion, and what other reasons does either of them need? It's almost like a loose leash, how Jazz can escape, but choices to stay by Orion cause he loves him~.

Then we get to D-16, Orion's garment is tightly wrapped around him, it appears he's struggling to break free cause he doesn't want to he wrapped in Orion's love....or does he? This can go both ways that work for D-16, that he's struggling to break free cause he finds Orion "insignificant", but...is secretly wanting more, cause deep down, he'll be so selfish to keep Orion to himself if it was his choice. Which is what leads to the other possibility that he is purposely tightly tying himself around Orion's garment to keep him close & tight, making sure it never slips free from him, showing that only HE can have Orion till the end~

Either way, I'm fangirling and craving for more. It's just so good! (Please correct me if I may have misinterpreted it though)

Dude I’M the one fangirling!!! I love love LOVE reading analysis like this, absolute blessing 🙏🙏✨

I do not wish to confirm anything because with posts like this I want everyone to make their own conclusions without being influenced but GAWDDDDDD what a lovely read. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!!>

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Blue for a while | Buddy & Monkey: Double The Trouble

summary: monkey's loan spell in the 2022/23 season.

double the trouble masterlist

The Manchester rain felt different. It wasn’t just that it was heavier, colder, or lingered in the air longer than it did in London.

It was lonelier.

And you hated it.

You hated the city. The constant rain, the grey skies, the way it was always cold. You hated how the wind cut through you even when you wore three layers. London was cold too, but it never felt this miserable.

You hated the shirt. You especially hated how the blue felt wrong against your skin, and how every time you pulled it on, it made your stomach churn.

You had grown up in red. Arsenal was your home, your family. 

This? This was nothing but a punishment.

Or at least it felt like it was.

And more than anything, you hated Jonas for sending you here.

You had been absolutely fuming when you found out about the loan.

“You’re joking? I’m not going there!” You exclaimed, outraged even at the thought of it.

“You don’t have a choice, kid,” Jonas had said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“You… You can’t make me! Leah–” You turned to her, desperate, “Le, can’t you stop this? You can’t let this happen!”

Leah’s jaw had been tight, her fingers flexing at her sides. She was just as frustrated as you were, but the fight had already been lost before it even began, “It’s out of my hands I’m afraid, my girl,” Her voice was strained, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to go,” You had pleaded.

“I know,” Leah exhaled a sigh, running her hand through her hair, “But you’re going to be fine. Kei, G, and Lucy are there. Just think of it like an adventure.”

Of course, Leah tried to make it sound like it was better than it was, but it wouldn’t be.

You scoffed, shaking your head in protest, “But I don’t want an adventure, I want to stay here.”

Jonas, however, didn’t look the slightest bit phased, “You’ll be expected to arrive in Manchester for your medical tomorrow. The club is sorting your transport out.”

Your stomach had twisted at that. It was happening, whether you wanted it or not.

“Where am I even gonna stay?” You asked, confused as your voice was small.

“Don’t worry, Monkey. I’ll speak to Kei and Luce, and I’m sure you can stay with them,” Leah said, she was trying to be reassuring but you saw the way she was struggling with the idea of this herself.

And then, just like that, the club’s announcement post dropped the following morning after you found out.

It was official.

“Remember, it’s going to be an adventure,” Leah said, forcing a faint smile.

You scowled, “A terrible adventure. Why do I have to go?”

Leah sighed, barely managing to get a spoonful of porridge into Buddy’s mouth, “It was the club’s decision, Monkey. I can’t do anything about it.”

But you didn’t want to hear that. You wanted her to fix it.

You hated it here. And you were vocal about your feelings.

“I hate it here. It’s so shit,” You grumbled, collapsing onto the bed in Lucy and Keira’s spare bedroom after another miserable training session.

“Stop swearing,” Leah chided through the phone, “It’s only for this season. You’re going to be fine, and you have Kei, G, and Lucy, remember? It’s going to be alright.”

You huffed, rolling onto your stomach, “You’ve sent me to live with a crazy woman, Le!”

Leah sighed, “You’re being dramatic, Monkey,”

“Am I? Lucy tried to shove pineapple on my pizza yesterday. I barely made it out alive,” You protested, dramatically.

“Relax, squirt. Auntie Kei is here to keep you safe,” Keira popped her head around the bedroom door with a cheesy grin, “Don’t yer’ worry, Le. She’s safe with us!”

You wrinkled your nose, “Did you seriously just refer to yourself in the third person? So lame.”

Keira cackled, “You’re just mad ‘cause I scored that banger past you in training.”

You groaned. You hated that too.

You hated how Keira and Lucy had been given orders from Leah before you even arrived. 

Don’t let her spend too much money.

Don’t let her stay up late.

Make sure she eats properly–no sweets, no energy drinks.

You weren’t a child.

Okay, sure, you were only seventeen, but still. You could take care of yourself.

Except… you were currently banned from Uber Eats because Keira caught you trying to order a McFlurry for breakfast. Lucy had physically taken a pack of Haribo Goldbears out of your hand at training. And when you tried to sneak an energy drink before the match, Keira snatched it and took a sip right in front of you–just to be annoying.

“You’re the worst,” You grumbled, arms crossed.

“You’re predictable,” Keira had shot back, grinning.

You just wanted to throw something at her.

But the worst part?

It wasn’t just that you hated Manchester. 

You hated City. 

Their football was different, it wasn’t Arsenal’s football, and you felt it in every training session, every match. The movement was different, the patterns weren’t the ones burned into your brain from Hale End. Even when you did well, it didn’t feel right.

And the dressing room? It wasn’t the same. Sure, everyone was nice, but they weren’t your people. You missed Katie’s loud, chaotic energy. You missed Lia trying to make sure you ate before training. You even missed Kim’s usual Captain’s mannerisms and stern words.

You missed Leah. You missed Jordan.

And most of all, you missed your favourite little buddy.

The Arsenal group chat was still very much active on your phone, but it didn’t feel like yours anymore. The first few days, the girls had kept you included – talking about training, sending memes– but then the messages started to feel different. The jokes weren’t ones you were in on anymore. You saw pictures from team dinners–moments that you weren’t a part of.

You tried to pretend it didn’t sting.

Jordan and Leah, of course, always checked in.

Jordy: How’s City treating you, little one?

Your answer was always the same.

You: Shit.

Jordan sent a laughing emoji. That bad?

You didn’t hesitate to show how much disinterest you had for the city or the club.

You: Yes. I hate it. I fuckin’ Jonas. I hate the shitty weather. I hate the stupid fuckin’ football. I hate everything.

Followed by a phone call from Leah, usually to scold you about your vibrant language.

“Stop swearing will you,” Leah chastised in her usual manner, “Jord told me about the text you sent her. I know it’s hard, but…”

You didn’t say the worst part.

You didn’t say how much you missed home.

You didn’t say how much you missed your family.

You swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter, “I want to come home,” You muttered, quieter this time, “What if Buddy forgets who I am? I can’t let that happen.”

“Monkey,” Leah’s voice softened instantly, “She’s not going to forget who you are. She’ll still remember her big sister.”

“She’s just a baby,” Your voice cracked, “Babies forget things.”

Silence stretched between you. Then, the call flickered into a FaceTime request. You accepted it without hesitation, and the screen filled with Buddy’s tiny face. She was clutching your old stuffed monkey, babbling your name like it was the only word she knew.

Leah smiled, tilting the camera, “Someone’s missing their big sister. She won’t let go of it,” She teased, her voice warm, “Does this look like’s forgetting you anytime soon?”

Your throat tightened, eyes burning as you fought back tears, “That’s not fair,” You mumbled, voice thick, “You can’t just make me cry like this.”

Leah’s smile softened, “It’s just this season, my girl. You’ll be back home in London before you know it.”

That season felt like an eternity.

© scribblesofagooonerr

[glambots]

BUBBLE, BUBBLE, MOON'S IN TROUBLE

Moondrop/Reader

Rating: SFW

Wordcount: 5k

A commission for @semidemi-minigod !! In which you give Moon a bath. But from Moon's POV.

It was difficult to say when it all started.

When he’d allowed himself to become so complacent. So vulnerable.

It wasn’t an entirely pleasant feeling. But you made it easier. Somehow.

Even now, when all he wanted was to slink away into the dark, far away from your pleading eyes and pursed lips.

“Come on, Moon. Please? You can look at it all if you want to. I won’t stop you. It’s really good stuff. Like, expensive stuff.”

You moved around the cleaning cart, picking up and brandishing several different items in his direction, with all the nervous excitement of a salesman trying to land a deal.

His eyes moved over each object laid out, atop the cart’s surface. Towels, fluffy and white. Bottles of cleaning solutions. Metal polish. Different kinds of scrub brushes. A few toothbrushes…?

He didn’t recognize any of the brands, which meant that they came from outside the Pizzaplex.

“…You bought these?” Cautiously, he picked up one of the little canisters and held it between his thumb and forefinger, turning the balm canister round-and-round like it was an oversized coin.

Polish cream. The fancy aluminum tin flashed under the dim lights, like the spark of a distant star.

“Yeah, I got them all from a hardware place that was nearby.” You smiled, hands roving over the assortment to grasp one of the smaller hand towels. His head tilted a bit when you held it out to him, a lopsided smile gracing your flushed cheeks.

“Feel these! I swear, I have never felt towels as soft as these.”

Curiosity burning, Moon placed the polish back down and reached for the towel. He fingered the soft, fluffy fabric in a bit of awe. It was much nicer than the old, tattered rags they had stashed away in the Daycare. Cleaner, too.

“They’re Egyptian cotton.” Your grin grew wider. “I got you a couple of sets, so you can keep some in storage for when they each get worn out.”

“…Keep?”

“Well…yeah! I mean, they’re yours now.” You gestured at the whole of the collection. “All of this is. I mean, I can keep it if you don’t have any room. But this is all for you. You and Sun, I mean. Obviously.”

He looked back and forth between you and the cleaning cart, utterly bewildered.

And, more than that, suspicious.

“Why?”

He watched your expression twist into bemusement, before you sighed dramatically and rolled your eyes.

“Because I can.”

“What if we…don’t want it?” He couldn’t stop the hint of amusement that crept into his voice. Even if there was a little bit of truth to it. It felt…wrong to accept this.

You just pursed your lips, brows raising so high they nearly touched your hairline.

“Well, that’s too bad. Cause I already bought it, and the store won’t let me return it. Which means either you take it, or I’ll just throw it all away.”

He grunted, looking back over the collection.

“Liar-liar, pants on fire.”

“Nope!” You popped the “p,” giving him a little half-shrug. “I’ve got the receipt, and it says no refunds allowed. You wanna see it? I’ll show it to you.”

Moon grunted again, tapping his fingers rhythmically against his chin and cheek.

To take it…or not…

It would be a shame to let it all go to waste.

But! But. He had one more question to ask you.

“Why me? Why not Sun?”

He can’t help but spit the name with a bit of venom. Out of the two of them, wouldn’t Sun be the easier target? Easier to work with. Easier to talk to. A better fit.

Better…in every way.

The look you give him is hard to place. It’s not hurt, not pity…a little frustrated.

A little sad.

“Do you not…trust me?”

There it is again: that feeling of wanting to hide away. A little tickle of guilt burning through his wires and sliding between his gears. He didn’t like it when you looked at him like that.

“No.”

“No, you don’t trust me? Or no, you don’t not trust me?”

“…No.”

You sighed, pulling off the bear-eared cap on your head to run a hand through your already messy hair.

“Alright. Alright…I won’t force you to do it. I just…” You looked down at the cart, eyes misty and lip quivering a bit. Like you were trying not to cry. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

And like that, he feels something in him melt.

“Fine.” He folded his arms over his chest, as if they’d serve as any sort of defense. He hates the way his whole-body tickles with heat when the sadness on your face melts away into relief.

Because it’s unfamiliar. Different.

He knows for a fact that what he’s feeling is something that he’s not supposed to be able to feel.

And yet, you make him feel it.

And that frightens him.

“Make it fast.”

Guilt is there again, gnawing at his insides when you reach up to quickly wipe the rim of your eyes clear, a breathy laugh bubbling up from somewhere inside you. Just like that, you’re so happy.

“Alright! Okay. Okay. Um, I’ll start with the—I mean, what do you want me to start with? I’ve got all this stuff, and I didn’t even think about it. God, where do I start?”

Moon watches you flit around the cart, hands moving over each object in a frenzy. You finally look up after a moment, going still.

“Sorry. Just. Give me a second, I swear I know what I’m doing.” Your eyes move to the floor, like you’re searching for something. “Do you want to sit down?”

Silently, Moon reached behind him, grasping one of the small child-sized chairs, and pulled it out to sit on without breaking eye contact.

“Okay.” You chuckled, a rag in one hand, a bottle of cleaning solution in the other. He could feel the hesitancy in your movements as you approached, like you were afraid he’d bolt at any second. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

For a moment, you hesitated, as if trying to decide where and how to get started. Moon simply sat still, watching your hands and eyes shift from his face to his arms, to his chest, then back up.

“Hang on, I can’t do this kneeling—my back hurts too much for that.”

You grabbed an undersized chair and pulled it up across from him, gently taking one of his arms and spraying a light amount of the solution across it. Moon couldn’t detect any chemicals, but it did smell slightly…fresh?

“This is just water and soap,” you explained, gently running the rag across his forearm, rubbing it between his fingers and over his palm. “To get rid of the surface stains. After that, I’ll use the stronger stuff.”

For a moment, there was a silence that stretched between the two of you. He wasn’t sure if it was comfortable or not but was more than satisfied to simply watch your tiny hands work their way up and down his arm.

You swapped to the other arm, wiping it down gently from hand-to-shoulder, then paused.

“Do you want me to do your chest or back first?”

Your voice was soft, gentle and coaxing.

Moon looked down at his arms, flexing his fingers as he thought for a moment.

“…Back.”

“Alright.”

Carefully, you placed a hand on his shoulder for balance, running the washcloth over his broad back. Moon twitched, an odd tingle rushing through his wires at the sensation of your palm rubbing little circles around the spot where the hook to his line protruded. He tried to ignore it, but you stopped again, having noticed.

“Sorry, is that uncomfortable?”

“No.” He scrambled for an excuse. “…It tickles.”

“Oh.” From the corner of his eye, he could see a tiny smile cross over your face. “I didn’t know you were ticklish.”

“We’re not,” he replied, maybe a little too fast. “Just…sensitive.”

“Sure.” The tone in your voice betrayed that maybe you didn’t entirely believe him, but you didn’t push the issue. He was thankful for that.

The thought of your little hands coasting along his metal body, trying to find vulnerable spots to attack and manipulate—it made his head spin. That was the last thing he needed right now.

Things were quiet again, as you slid the rag over the thin pieces of metal that made up his hinged neck. Anxiety raced through his system as your hand moved dangerously close to the back of his face-plate—where the switch sat.

One wrong move (or maybe, one purposeful move) and he’d be forced into Rest Mode.

“Careful—” Before he could stop himself, his hand flew up, snatching your thin wrist. “Not there.”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry, sorry…” You quickly jerked back, panic flashing in your eyes. “D-Did I hurt you?”

He searched your face for any sign of wrongdoing. Something to latch onto.

He found nothing.

“…No.” Moon finally said after a moment, letting your wrist go. He felt a little bad as he watched you rub it, knowing that he’d probably held on a little too hard. “Just…not there.”

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You scooted around the edge of the chair, rag hovering just below the edge of his neck ruffles. “I’ll start on your chest now, okay?”

He didn’t say anything but leaned his head back to give you more room. That, and to keep from having to watch you run the cloth over the expanse of his chassis. Just the feeling of it was enough to have him balling his hands tight into fists at his sides.

There was so much intimacy in the action, as simple an action it was. Your face was so close, eyes squinted as you scrubbed at the stains splattered across his metal body. Sticky hands, paint, glue, dirt, grime—there was no telling what made up the mass of it all. But the feeling of it being wiped away was a very pleasant one.

He felt lighter, almost. Like the weight of the stains were being peeled off him.

You were extremely gentle when your hands moved down to his waist, one holding him slightly in place, the other moving the cloth down his sides and across his stomach.

Moon squirmed again. If he’d had a stomach, it would have been fluttering. Full of butterflies.

“Sorry, I’m almost done.” You breathed softly, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

“It’s fine.” He lied.

A few more moments later, you finally leaned back, and Moon felt like he could breathe again. Not that he’d ever needed to in the first place. But whatever pressure had been hanging over his head was finally lifted away, if only momentarily.

You pulled out another bottle, gently drenching a small scrub brush across its surface with the oddly colored liquid. It smelled very strongly of disinfectant, and he flinched a little.

“This is the strong stuff.” You explained, offering him an apologetic smile. “It’ll get rid of the tougher stains—you don’t have a lot of them, so this part should be quick. I’ll try not to go too hard with it.”

“Do what you need to. We won’t run.”

This part of the cleaning process wasn’t quite as pleasant as the rag and soap. But you had been true to your word—your touch was gentle. Maybe too gentle.

“Harder.” He urged, after a while of watching you scrub at his arms. “We don’t have all night.”

You blew a few stray hairs out of your face. “I don’t know how you got this dirty. When was your last bath?”

He…couldn’t remember. So, he didn’t say anything at all.

You paused to glance up at him, but after it was apparent that you weren’t going to get a response, you turned back to scrubbing.

The bristles of the brush felt…strange, against his metal skin. Not painful. Just uncomfortable. It made him want to push your hand away, but he stopped short of doing so. You were just trying to help, and it wouldn’t do either of you good for him to make this difficult.

So, like a child sitting through a well-needed (but unwanted) haircut, he forced himself to simply sit there, squirming every so often.

“I really appreciate you letting me do this for you.” You finally said, your voice cutting through the silence. “I wish I could do something about the stains on your pants, but you probably wouldn’t want me to, uh…”

Your hands moved through the air, making vague gestures, before you just gave up and offered him a little half-shrug. “Mess with those.”

Moon had to think about it for a moment. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Once more, you paused, blinking rapidly. “What? Oh, uh—I was just joking!”

A spark of mischief fluttered in his chest. Your cheeks were flushing, the rosy color reaching all the way up to the tips of your ears. You couldn’t look at him suddenly, and his internals picked up a rapid jump in heart rate.

“Nervous?” A giggle bubbled up from somewhere deep inside him, and he clicked his invisible tongue, wagging a finger in your face. “Naughty thing.”

The color on your face deepened to a shade that rivaled the ruby glow of his eyes.

“No! I mean—that’s not what I meant. Just—I just—” Your lips set in a thin line, breath coming quick and heavy.

“Want me to take them off?”

“What?”

He giggled again, quite enjoying the way your voice cracked.

“My…” His hands hovered for a moment, just above the hem of his pants. Then, he flipped them upwards, as if offering you his wrists. “Ribbons.”

Your face was so red that he wondered if you could even breathe properly. Your heart was practically leaping out of your chest. Seeing you all flustered made that bouncy, electric feeling inside him tingle and spark.

For a moment, you just glared at him, shaking the scrub brush like you were considering smacking him with it. Then, you sucked in a breath, pinched the bridge of your nose, and slowly let it out again, lowering your would-be weapon.

“I hate you.”

He snickered again, reaching out a single finger to gently tap the tip of your nose. “Liar.”

You love me.

The words were caught in his nonexistent throat. He could say it, to push your buttons even further, but something held him back. Hesitation.

He wasn’t…quite ready to push it that far, yet.

You sighed dramatically, placing the scrub brush aside, only to reach for one of the toothbrushes he’d seen earlier.

“Are we playing dentist?”

“You’re half right.” Amusement sparkled in your eyes. “This is for, like, getting into the tiny places. The seams between your fingers and stuff. I’ll be using it on your face, too, so…”

“You came prepared.”

You grinned. “I told you I did.”

“All this for little old me?” He struck a bashful pose.

“Yes, you absolute goober. Now hold still…”

The feeling of the toothbrush sliding into his seams was much more pleasant than the scrub-brush. It still tickled, enough to make him twitch now and then, but it wasn’t overwhelming.

You were so gentle with the motions, making sure to get every nook and cranny that you could work the bristles into. Moon was a little shocked to see just how much grime the brush was picking up, but then again—it had been a very long time since they’d gotten any sort of attention in the “appearances” department.

Every time you swapped to a new area, you dip the brush into a small container of cleaner, swirling it around and wiping away the dirt from the surface of the bristles. But even with such meticulous attention to detail, it didn’t take long for it to become too dirty to keep using.

You ran through at least three brushes before you stopped to take a break.

“Seriously, how the hell did you guys get so dirty?”

Moon could only shrug. There were several components that contributed to their current state, but the biggest offender was plain out negligence.

You sighed and shook your head, grabbing a thermos from behind the stack of bottles and tipping it back. His eyes followed the movement of your throat every time you swallowed—a strange voyeuristic feeling.

A rivulet of water dripped from the corner of your mouth, rolling down your chin, then your throat, then over the dip of your clavicle and down beneath the collar of your shirt…he tore his gaze away. Focused on flexing his hands in his lap, then folded them together and squeezed, one foot tap-tap-tapping away, anxiously.

“Phew! God, I’m sweating like crazy. Is it okay if I take this off?” You fingered the neckline of your shirt with one hand, using the other to fan yourself with your hat.

He really wanted to say no. Because that would make him feel weirder.

But he couldn’t, when you looked at him like that. So earnest and innocent.

Moon nodded silently, looking away once more when you reached for the buttons. It felt…wrong, to watch you undo them. The sound of fabric rustling had his foot tapping just a bit faster.

“Okay! I’m good now.” You stretched your arms up above your head with a little moan. “God, that’s so much better.”

Moon found it hard to look at you directly, now that you were sitting there in a tank top. It wasn’t anything salacious, it was just. So intimate. There was so much more visible skin now, and his eyes kept moving over the muscles in your arms, across the curve of your abdomen…

The shape of your body was so much clearer now, and that made him feel…almost shy.

 “Alright, last up is your face. I’m gonna have to get a little bit closer—is that okay?”

That was not okay. His system was on high alert.

But what was he supposed to say? You’d already gone this far, he couldn’t just say no. Despite really, really wanting to.

For a moment he felt the gears in his head grinding, a substitution for the teeth and jaw he lacked. The tension in his body felt like a rubber band pulled too tight, seconds away from snapping. It got worse when he forced himself to nod, only able to muster up a little grunt of affirmation.

“Alright. I’ll be careful, I promise.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you. He did.

This was just. Too close.

You slid off the children’s chair, half-kneeling with one of your legs on the ground, a knee between his legs to balance yourself.

Too close. It was too close.

You reached up, rag in hand. Your fingers gently cupped the side of his face, feather-light touch sending sparks through his body.

Too. Close.

He felt his whole body go stiff as you pressed the soapy rag to his cheek.

Carefully, you moved it up to his forehead, then down to his chin. Warmth trailed down the metal of his face, burning in the wake of your touch. So hot that he almost couldn’t stand it.

Your eyes moved over his face as you swapped sides, smoothing down the crescent curve of his nose so delicately that it tickled. If he’d had the ability to sneeze, he probably would have.

“Sorry.” Your teeth dug lightly into your lower lip. “I know this is a lot. You’re doing a great job, Moonie.”

That did not help his situation at all.

Your praise struck him like a bolt of lightning, and he clenched his fists so tightly in his lap that he felt his metal knuckles pop.

“I really appreciate you letting me do this for you. I really, really care about you.” You paused to suck in a little breath. “I mean that.”

He could barely hear what you were saying. It was like static was buzzing in his ears, growing louder by the moment. All he could do was focus on the shape of your lips as they formed around each word.

“I…” The words refused to come out, caught in his nonexistent throat.

“It’s alright.” You laughed a little, placing the rag aside and reaching for the final toothbrush. “You don’t have to force yourself. I’m almost done.”

That wasn’t it.

You were just so close. The warmth of your body, your smell, the shape of you…it was suffocating him. If he leaned in, just a little bit more, he’d be able to wrap his arms around you, to feel the softness of your skin against his—

The abrupt tickle of the toothbrush rubbing against the seam in his faceplate made him jerk back.

“Sorry! Sorry.” You scoot forward, the hand on his cheek holding him in place a bit more firmly. “I’m almost done.”

Your body heat is suddenly all around him, then. You’re leaning up in his lap, both knees on the chair, straddling his leg. He can catch the scent of shampoo on your hair, scented lotion on your skin. He could count every lash framing your eyes. Feel the heat of your breath on his teeth—

His hands hover in the air, fingers twitching sporadically, just inches away from gripping you by the waist.

He wants to tell you to back up. But his invisible tongue is tied in knots.

He can’t stop looking at your face. Staring at you, as you maneuver the brush into the little dots lining his crescent-sloped nose.

“You have the cutest freckles.” You say, your lips turning up at the corners.

His body makes a strange noise. A low, grinding metallic sound that could be as much a growl as it could a whine.

That’s all the warning you get before he leans in, gripping you tight by the shoulders, and all but mashes his face against yours in a pathetic facsimile of a kiss.

It lasts for only a few seconds, but those seconds feel like an eternity. The softness of your lips against his hard, unyielding smile has his processor running at full tilt, fans blasting at full force inside of his chest, trying to chase off a heat that threatens to melt his insides into a gooey mess.

He was brought back to reality, then, as his brain caught up to his body.

Moon leaned back, shame burning through him. He slowly unfurled his hands from your shoulders, bringing them up to cover his face.

Why had he done that?

“M-Moon, I—what—”

Your voice is so small, trembling, and that just makes it so much worse.

“No, no.” He rasped, clawing at his cheeks. You stumbled back as he scrambled out of the chair, knocking it over in his haste to put distance between the two of you. “Against the rules. It’s wrong. Shouldn’t have done that. No, no, no—”

“Moon, stop.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have done that. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid—” Everything was spiraling. The gears inside his head grind so hard that it hurts.

He had you. He had something good. And he ruined it.

Sun was right. He ruined everything.

He always ruined everything good.

“Moon, stop!” Your fingers twine through his own, trying to pry his hands from his face. He can hear the panic in your voice. “Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself!”

“This is bad. This is wrong. It’s wrong.” He wanted to hide. He wanted to crawl into the dark, curl up in the shadows, and stay there forever. Away from you. Away from the good thing that he ruined. His fingers try to find purchase on something, anything, to grab and pull and break. “Wrong, wrong, wrong—”

“Moon…!”

He feels your fingers curl in the thin fabric of his neck ruffles—and then you yank.

The kiss is clumsy, teeth clicking against teeth as your lips smash against his plastic smile.

Everything in him screeches to a violent, almost painful halt. You’re kissing him.

And you keep kissing him.

Every kiss is hard and passionate, lips moving across his face as far as you can get to, standing on your tiptoes. He feels you stumble a little as you lean up into him, and his hands instinctively land on your waist to help you keep your balance.

“Wait, we can’t—”

“Sit.” You command.

He sits, following your will like the loyal, obedient dog that he is. He can see the chair he knocked over in front of him, sitting in what was your seat, but that view is quickly blocked when you climb into his lap. Your hands are trembling as they cup the sides of his face.

For a moment, your mouth opens and closes. Your brow furrows. You look like you want to say something, but no words come out.

So instead, you lean in and kiss him again.

And he lets you. He holds your tiny waist in his hands and leans into your touch, allowing the chaos filling his mind to simply melt away as you pepper kisses across his face.

Cheeks, nose, forehead, smile, eyebrows, chin. Back and forth and up and down and over and over—every kiss has his head spinning.

One of his large, metal hands come up to cradle the back of your head, urging you even closer. His fingers thread tenderly through your hair. Amongst the chaos, your hat is knocked free, falling to the wayside.

The heat of your body burns so hot through the thin fabric of your tank-top, and with the other hand, he gently squeezes the flesh of your side. A part of him wants to slide his fingers lower, to dip his hand beneath the shirt to feel the soft skin beneath.

It’s hot, it’s hot, it’s so hot he can’t stand it—

But then he feels your tongue slide across the thin curve of his lower lip, and he jerks back in shock. The thin line of saliva connecting your lips to his snaps.

“I, uh—ha..ha-ha…” You laugh a little as you rush to stand, quickly reaching up to wipe the drool from your mouth. Your lips are bruised red and a little puffy, cheeks flushed a pretty pink color. “Sorry, I-I got a little…uh, carried away.”

“Naughty.” Moon purrs, wagging a finger at you playfully. “Naughty boy.”

He feels so light and…and happy. That’s the only way he can put the bubbly, buzzy, excited feeling running all through his body. He’s happy.

“Was that…was that okay? That I…did…that?”” You can hardly look at him, eyes darting back-and-forth. He can feel you starting to pull back slightly, and his fingers curl possessively over the curve of your hip, keeping you tethered.

“…Maybe.” He muses, head cocking to the side. “Maybe not.”

“Oh.” Your face falls.

“Maybe you should…do it again.” His head tilted to the other side. “To make sure.”

He can’t help but giggle when obvious relief washes over your face.

“You…” Again, your lips move, not quite forming around words, like whatever you’re trying to say won’t quite come out. You settle with an awkward, lopsided smile. “So, it is okay? That I kissed you?”

Moon nodded, swaying lightly in his seat. “Yes. It’s…okay.”

He really wishes you would do it again.

“Okay. Okay! Good. I-I’m…yeah.” You laugh nervously, your cheeks still stained pink. Your grin stretches from ear-to-ear. Then you look up at him, and your expression morphs into an apologetic smirk.

“Cause now I’ve gotta clean your face off again.”

He stops swaying.

“Ah….” Moon can’t stop the little unhappy grunt that escapes him. He can still feel the sensation of each kiss buzzing against his metal skin. “Do you have to?”

“Yes, Moon, I have to.” You chuckle again, once more reaching for the cleaning supplies. “You can’t walk around with drool all over your face.”

“I’ve done it before.”

You fix him with a look. “You can’t walk around with MY drool all over your face.”

“Boo.” He crossed his arms, slumping back in a dramatic pout. His hat slumped over his face, the bell jingling as it bounced off his nose. “You’re no fun.”

A little whistle of air escapes your nose as you settled the other chair in front of him, scooting forward until your knees were touching. You reach up, gently moving the bell back over the curve of his head and beckoned him forward.

Moon, of course, leans into your hand without hesitation.

And so, you resume where you’d left off, with you gently wiping away the remnants of your improvised make-out session.

“So. Um.” Your voice cracks a little. “Are we, like…I mean. Do you…like…me?”

“Yes.” He says simply.

“No, I mean. Uh.” You suck in a shaky breath, still struggling to look him in the eye. “Like…like-like. Do you like me. In “that” way? Like—like “that”?”

He’s not sure how he didn’t make that clear. He thought that he had.

But you look like you want to sink into the earth right now, so he can’t help but tease you a little bit.

“Maybe.” Moon crooned, daintily folding his hands between his knees and swaying side-to-side. “Do you like-like me?”

He can hear the breath catch in your throat, and you look away quickly, face flushing an even deeper shade of red.

So very cute.

“Y-Yeah. I do. A lot.” You inhale slowly, forcing your eyes to meet with his. “I-I care about you, a lot, Moon. You’re…you’re my best friend and I…I like you. A lot.”

He stops swaying (again).

“Hm. Good.”

Before you can react, he leans forward to gently bump his smile against your forehead. You, of course, stare at him, wide-eyed and mouth agape.

 “I like you…too.”

For a second, you look like you’re thinking about saying something—and Moon simply giggles when you lean in to kiss him again.

Maybe, if he asks nicely, he can keep this one.

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight: Bad Energy

Masterlist: Here

CW: language, mentions of baby stuff, pregnancy symptoms and one moment where Ethan is mean (not to you lol)

A/N: I feel like y’all are working your way to a good place and maybe y’all can be friends soon if nothing happens that could potentially get in the way?👀✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r

Summary: You and Harry have sort of an odd routine going and the two of you begin discussing baby names and rocking chairs✨

“Morning.” Harry softly greets you when you open your apartment door, you give him a small smile as you move out of his way so he can enter your apartment allowing him to head straight for your kitchen. You let a yawn escape you as turn so you can follow him after closing the door but Harry pauses right before he enters the archway of your kitchen and turns his head to look at you over his shoulder. “Don’t forget to-”

“Lock the door.” You finish for him with a tired sigh making Harry have to bite his bottom lip to keep the soft chuckle to himself. He enters the kitchen while you turn and quickly lock the door so you can join him and take your usual spot at your little table while he busies himself with cutting fruit and the random veggies.

It’s been almost two and a half weeks since Harry came over to your house far too early in the morning just to make you some green juice and since then he’s been coming over every other morning. The only difference is he now changes what he puts in the juice depending on how you’re feeling about certain fruits or vegetables and he also secretly adds a bit of protein powder because he knows you’re in more of a snacking stage and the odds of you sitting to eat a whole meal are slim. Most of the time the two of you engage in some simple small talk while you sit at the table and watch him cut things up, not getting too deep about anything minus Harry asking questions such as how you slept and if you’re feeling okay or if your ankles are still swollen.

“Do you want pine-”

“Oh please don’t even mention that evil fruit.” You say with a groan making Harry just nod as he puts the pineapple back in your fridge and grabs a mango instead. “I don’t understand why something that tastes so good has to hate me so much.” You pout as you place your chin in the palm of your hand while your other one rests on your bump as you lean over your small kitchen table.

“I’m guessing it’s still causing you some reflux issues then?” He asks as he looks around your fridge for the bag of spinach he just brought over the other day.

“Yes but sometimes I think it’s worth it but not today.” You explain with a yawn making Harry take a half step back from the fridge so he can turn his head and look at you with a raised brow. Normally you’re a bit sleepy when he comes over for your morning juice before you head off to work or he has to go run an errand or attend a meeting but he’s never seen you this tired before and it makes him a little concerned about how well you slept last night.

“How did sleep last night?” He questions as he hears you let out a small sigh as you close your eyes and give him a shrug.

“I don’t know if I actually got any sleep last night so I guess that would mean I slept horribly? No that sounds a bit dramatic. I’d just say I slept not very well.” Your mumbled rant like explanation makes Harry chuckle as he shakes his head and closes the doors to your fridge, he places the fruits and veggies for you juice on the counter near the cutting board and then turns so he’s fully facing you.

“Well come on then.” You slowly open your eyes just as Harry takes a few steps towards you with his hand out. “You can drink your juice in bed and take a nap afterwards or something. But you need rest. It’s important.” He tries to not sound bossy or rude because he knows the two of you are in a weird place right now and he doesn’t want to do or say anything that would make you upset enough to kick him back out to just being allowed in your hallway.

“You’re just trying to get me out of the room so you can put weird stuff in my juice.” You accuse him with a playful glare as you sit up and take his hand so he can help you get up from the chair.

“You caught me.” He jokes as he wraps his hand around your smaller one before taking a step back so you have room to stand in front of him. “I’m just trying to load your juice up with things you hate.” He adds as you let go of his hand and head out of the kitchen, he stands there for a moment not sure if you want him to follow you or not since really the only rooms he’s ever been inside of in your apartment are the living room and kitchen.

“Can you grab my water for me please? I left it on the counter.” You call over your shoulder as you make your way to your bedroom. Harry doesn’t hesitate as he turns and grabs your green and pink water bottle off the counter and walks out of the kitchen into the living room.

He catches a glimpse of you just before you enter your bedroom at the end of the hallway and for some reason he feels nervous as he stands there with your water bottle in his hand. For a moment he worries that you’re only being this relaxed about him entering your bedroom because you’re exhausted and don’t really know what you’re doing or saying. But then again he knows you well enough by now to know you are usually always the one who tries to be polite and civil out of the two of you, it’s usually him that messes it up with his unkind words or actions. So he just shakes off his nerves and heads down the hallway to leads to your bedroom, he can’t help but pause at the door on his right that he knows is your spare bedroom because you told him one morning how you’re happy you splurged for the two bedroom unit when you moved in so the twins won’t have to share a room with you.

When you get to your bed you look over your shoulder and when you don’t see or hear Harry you quirk a brow as you turn and take a few steps towards your bedroom door. You poke your head out and you can’t help but smile when you see him standing in front of the twin’s room, you take a few more steps so your about halfway between where he’s standing and your bedroom.

“You can look inside if you want.” Your voice being so close to him makes him jump a bit causing the ice in your water to clink against the metal sides of your bottle.

“Oh uhm I don’t-”

“You don’t what? Want to see where your children will be sleeping and playing while they’re with me? That’s rude.”

“Well when you put it like that then okay yeah I’ll take a look.” You chuckle as you reach for your water bottle so you can take it from him, Harry chews on his bottom lip as he turns to look at you and when you just give him a reassuring nod as you take a sip of your water he places a hand on the doorknob and twists it open.

Harry feels his heart beat faster as he takes a step inside the room, he obviously knows that you’re carrying twins meaning two babies but seeing two cribs set up really seems to make it feel all the more real for him. He steps further inside the room and places a hand on one of the cribs as he looks around the room. The walls are a soft white and to no surprise you’ve hung up a little bookshelf in the corner that has a few books already on it, the cribs are also white and when he looks down he sees you picked out matching sheets for them that have little story book animals on them such as Pooh Bear and Petter Rabbit.

“It’s not done yet but sometimes when I can’t sleep or I’m restless I come in here and-”

“Did you put these together yourself?” He asks as you walk over to the dresser on the opposite side of the wall the cribs are on.

“I did yeah.” You answer as you turn and look at him, his eyes are a little wide and you know he wants to say something about how that couldn’t have been good for your back or your ankles. “It wasn’t very hard and it didn’t take long.” You explain as you place a hand over your very obvious baby bump, giving it a soothing rub as you walk over to the bookshelf.

“I haven’t uh-I haven’t gotten cribs or really anything yet.” He informs you as he runs his hand that’s not gripping the side of the crib through his hair as all of a sudden a feeling of being unprepared and overwhelmed with things he needs to get begins to hit him like a tidal wave.

“That’s fine Harry these were just on sale so I grabbed them. You have plenty of time to-”

“What if they come early and I don’t have anything still? Or what if they hate the cribs I pick and never want to sleep in them or-” A soft hand landing on top of his that’s gripping the crib makes him stop his rambling. He blinks a few times as he tries to calm his breathing down before he looks over at you and sees you giving him a small yet comforting smile.

“They’ll like whatever you pick Harry because you’re their dad and they’ll know you picked it just for them. Now I’m sure there’s going to be days and nights they don’t want to sleep but it won’t have anything to do with the cribs you get them.” You do your best to reassure him and ease him away from the edge of the small anxiety attack you know he is mere moments away from having.

“Would you uhm maybe want to help pick some things out for them?” He knows he could ask his mom or sister to help him but honestly for some reason he feels like picking the furniture for his nursery would be a good experience for the two of you to have.

“Sure oh actually your mom invited me shopping tomorrow she wants me to help her pick some crib sheets so would you want to just join us for that and we can look at cribs and stuff as well?” You feel a tinge of nervousness as you tell him about the plans you made with his mom, not sure if he is aware that she reaches out to you to see how you’re doing and even comes over for the occasional cup of tea.

“She told me about the two of you having plans tomorrow.” You let out a sigh of relief as you move your hand off of his and place it back on your bump. “Are you sure you would be okay with me joining you? I don’t want to get in the way.”

“She’s your mom Harry so of course I don’t mind you joining us.” Harry watches you closely as you speak so see if he can find any hints that you’re lying just to save yourself from hurting his feelings. But when you just stare at him for a few moments before taking another sip of your water he knows you’re being honest, you really don’t care if he comes with the two of you tomorrow and oddly enough he doesn’t know how to feel about the fact he’s going to be shopping for his twins with their mother and his mother.

“Okay I’ll uhm call her later to set up the details.” You just nod as you turn and head for the door while Harry still stands with a hand on the crib closest to it. “I’ll uhm go-go get started on your juice.” He fumbles over his words as he finally releases his grip on the wooden frame of the crib and turns around so he can see you standing in the doorway with your back towards him.

“Okay but don’t try to sneak any carrots into it this time or I’ll probably start crying.” You warn as you take a step into the hallway.

“Carrots are good for-”

“I don’t care what they are good for Harry they ruin the juice and make it a disgusting color.”

“The juice is already a gross color? It’s green.”

“Says the man with big dumb green eyes and green shorts on?” To that Harry decides to ignore your comments about his eyes and takes a moment to look down at his outfit, having forgotten he came here from the gym so he is in fact wearing green athletic shorts and a gray tank top with his neon colored running shoes.

“Just go lay down and I’ll bring you your carrot free juice okay?” You give him a smug smile as he stands at the end of your hallway near the living room with a hand on his hip while you stand in your bedroom doorway with your water bottle in one hand and the other also on your hip.

“Okay.” Harry rolls his eyes at how happy you sound all because he agreed to not add any carrots to your juice, he watches as you turn and enter your bedroom and waits a few moments till he hears the sound of your water bottle being placed on your nightstand before he turns to go to the kitchen.

“Oh and Paris is in the living room!” You shout as you fold your covers back so you can climb into bed, wanting to give Harry a heads up on the orange cat’s whereabouts since he still doesn’t seem to like Harry therefor thinking it’s okay to still use his ankles as little chew toys.

As if on queue Harry hears the all too familiar sound of a bell jingling from behind him just as he begins to cut up the mango that he decide would be a good substitute for the pineapple in your juice. He freezes the moment he feels the soft hair and slightly pointy whiskers rub against the back of his calf, Paris’s go too move before he sinks his teeth into the flesh right above Harry’s ankle bone. Harry takes a deep breath in preparation for the pain he knows he’s about to endure and sure enough maybe two seconds later he feels Paris bite down on his ankle as he starts to purr while Harry releases his breath and lets out a groan.

“Fuck sake Paris how long are we gonna be doing this mate? I’ve been here how many times now and you still don’t like me? I’m making your mom homemade green juice for Christ sake what else do you want from me?” Harry rambles on as he looks down at the orange cat who is just sitting there staring at him all innocently as if he didn’t just make a meal out of his poor ankle.

“One day you’re going to like me. I just know it.” Paris tilts his head to the side and looks up at Harry for a brief moment before he decides he’s done in the kitchen and walks off leaving Harry standing there with a half cut up mango in one hand and a knife in the other.

Harry isn’t sure if he’s dreaming or not, because surely there’s no way you actually said what he just heard come out of your mouth.

“I’m serious.” Your simple statement answers his question as you cross your arms over your chest and stare at him with a very stern look in your eyes that he’s never seen before, granted he hasn’t been around you for very long but still he’s never seen you look so serious.

“It’s a rocking chair how can it be haunted?” He wonders as he looks at the wooden chair in question that’s currently sitting in between the two of you.

The two of you are in the middle of a antique shop looking for some things to go on the wall in your nursery and also to see if they have any baby furniture that could potentially go in the nursery at Harry’s house. While it upset you a bit it’s no surprise to Harry that his mom suddenly “wasn’t feeling well” as soon as she found out you had invited Harry to tag along on today’s shopping trip, he knows very well she’s fine at home on her couch watching her shows and researching things for her garden. And while normally Harry would be annoyed at her subtle ways of trying to interfere in his personal life he’s thankful his mom isn’t here to witness him look absolutely lost on why the mother of his children thinks used rocking chairs can be haunted and refuses to buy one.

“Not haunted but it could hold bad energy from the last person who used it.” You explain for the second time as you scrunch your nose up while looking at the chair. “What if the last person who sat in that chair was a weirdo? Or was a serial killer?” Harry rolls his eyes at your ridiculous reasoning for why the chair could have bad energy.

“Oh come on what are the odds Ted Bundy used to rock his kids to sleep in this rocking chair.” Harry playfully argues as he points to the chair while you drop your hands from your chest so you can reach over and smack Harry’s arm with an annoyed huff making him glare at you.

“Why would you say that? Now we really aren’t getting it you asshole.” You snap as you give his arm one more smack before turning around and heading further down the aisle of old vintage looking furniture. Harry lets out a sigh as he runs a hand over his face because it’s only been half an hour since the two of you started this shopping trip and at this rate he’s not sure if the two of you will still be on the decently good terms you’ve been on the past few weeks by the time it’s over.

“Are you really mad? I know you’re more emotional than normal right now but it’s just a rocking chair and it doesn’t have to go in your house it can go in mine.” He tries to reason with you as he follows behind you down the aisle, he hears you let out a scoff at he mention of you being emotional and he instantly knows that wasn’t the correct thing to say.

“It’s not just a rocking chair Harry.” You quickly turn around to face him making him take a step back so he’s out of reach making you unable to smack him just incase you get the itch to do so again. “It’s where you put your babies to sleep while singing a lullaby and where you soothe them when they are upset and-and where you sit and read to them before bed and I just don’t want one that someone has already had all those special moments in. Even if it’s not going in my house I know my babies will still be sitting in it with you and I just-”

“Okay okay we can get you a brand new chair that no one has ever sat in just-just stop crying.” Harry’s words are rushed as he takes a small step towards you so he can place his hands on your shoulders, you didn’t even realize you were crying until you finally feel a few tears roll down your cheeks. You sniffle a few times as Harry bends his knees so he can be eye level with you. “I promise you will get whatever rocking chair you want. Just please stop crying.” He’s practically begging you at this point and giving your shoulders some gentle squeezes as you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan

“Oh sorry am I embarrassing you?” Your voice is a mixture of harsh and watery making Harry let out a sigh as he stands up and drops his hands from your shoulders. “Because news flash Harry pregnant people cry a lot okay?” He doesn’t want to start a fight with you so he just stands there and lets you take your frustration out on him because it was his poor choice of words that caused this reaction from you in the first place. “It’s not like I can control it either. I just cry all the time over the stupidest stuff.”

“I just don’t like seeing you cry.” You almost don’t hear his admission as he looks down at his feet while rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to make you upset I didn’t know you uhm had such strong feelings about rocking chairs that’s all.” He explains as he looks up at you making you let out a huff as your arms fall to your sides.

“It’s okay.” You tell him as you adjust the strap to your purse, Harry watches as you make a face of slight discomfort and he can’t even stop himself before he’s reaching over and grabbing the strap, he raises an eyebrow as his silent way of asking if this is okay and when you just let the strap of your bag fall into his hands he smiles as he takes your giant purse and puts the strap over his shoulder.

“I read somewhere that most people hyper fixate on one thing during their pregnancies and I just think mine has been the nursery. Mainly the furniture in it. So that’s why I uh had my-my little moment about the rocking chair.” You tell him as a way to help him get a better understanding on what’s going on in your mind, since you know having a breakdown in the middle of a store isn’t ideal especially for him. Mainly because anyone within a few feet of the two of you would be able to tell instantly who he is thanks to the short sleeves of his worn out Rolling Stones shirt letting his more recognizable tattoos be on display.

“Gemma’s was the car seat. She read every single safety review on hundreds of car seats and I swear she still doesn’t even like the one she uses everyday.” You smile as Harry talks about his sister, doing his best to help make you feel like he really does get it and that you being very particular about what you want in the twins nursery is totally normal.

“Oh speaking of Gemma I was thinking of Nora if one of them is a girl.” Harry feels as if his feet all of a sudden don’t know how to work as you turn around to begin heading down the aisle, tossing out a baby name as if it’s just a suggestion on what the two of you should eat for dinner and not a possible name for one of your children. “And I like Anne as a middle name and I know it’s her middle name and obviously it’s your mother’s name so I thought it would be cute?” You add having no clue Harry is still frozen in place a few paces behind you.

“Uhm-uh you’ve been thinking of-of names already?” He asks as he quickly rushes to catch up to you before you turn to head down another aisle that has framed art.

“Yeah? I’ve been thinking of names since I found out I was pregnant but I’ve just now narrowed the girl name down to that one.”

“And it’s Nora?”

“Yes I like Nora.”

“Nora is nice. I think I like it.”

“I’m glad.”

“So Nora as in Jones?”

“Uh more like Roberts.”

“And who’s that?” You stop mid step and turn to face Harry who has a very curious expression on his face as he flips through a bin of floral themed art.

“Nora Roberts is an author.” You answer making Harry just nod as a small smirk forms on his face.

“Should’ve known.” You roll your eyes as he looks over at you. “Of course you want to name our daughter after an author while I want to name her after a musician.”

“Well at least both Noras are talented.”

“You’re missing the most important part of this whole thing.”

“And that would be?”

“We just agreed on something.” The grin he gives you leaves you no choice but to smile back. “Nora Anne Styles? Or did you want them to have your last name? I’m fine with hyphenating it if you-”

“Styles is fine.” Harry feels hit with an odd swirl of emotions at your answer, knowing that you want the twins to have his last name makes him have a sense of pride but also makes him feel slightly nervous that one day they might hate having the same name as him. “I haven’t thought about boy names yet.” You tell him before you turn to look at a bin that has framed posters.

“Uhm how do you feel about Edward?”

“Edgar? Like Allen Poe?”

“Uh no I uhm said Edward not Edgar.”

“Oh sorry. Edward-Edward what?”

“James?”

“Edward James Styles.” You whisper it at first making Harry nervously rub his lips together as he listens to you repeat the name a few more times before nodding. “Okay yeah I like it.” You say with a smile as you place both hands on your bump before you turn to face him.

“Wow we are two for two.”

“Better stop before we break our streak or you even worst you make me cry.” Harry rolls his eyes as you take a step towards him while holding a hand out. He doesn’t know what you want his hand for but he turns so he’s facing you and gives it to you anyway with a quirked brow. “Can you feel that?” You ask as you place his hand on the side of your bump, he’s about to shake his head no when all of a sudden he feels like tiniest something press against his palm.

“Is-is that one of them?” You just nod as Harry stares down at his hand that’s pressed firmly against your bump. You watch his eyes go from wide and shocked to soft and glossed over so you place a hand over his and give it a small pat just as he lets out his first sniffle.

“Figured it was your turn to cry in public.” You joke as he blinks a few times trying to stop the tears from actually falling and rolling down his face.

“Thanks.” He says with a wet chuckle as you move his hand to the other side of your bump so he can feel another tiny little movement.

“I think they are stretching or something.” You explain as Harry just stares at his hand with a look of pure amazement. “They’ve been extra active today though.”

“I bet it’s because of the carrots I snuck in your juice this morning.”

The laugh you let out has Harry imagining for a moment this is what it would be like if the two of you weren’t just a few levels above being complete strangers who are having kids together and instead you were just two people happily shopping for nursery decor for their twins. It’s moments like this that he desperately wishes he could remember more about the night he met you because it’s glimpses of you like this, laughing at a stupid joke he said that have him feeling like you are so easy to be around and he’s sure that’s how he felt about you that night as well. But the harsh reality that Harry is very aware of is moments like this are rare for the two of you, he’s already made you cry today so he just tries to live in this moment that has him feeling a comforting sense of happiness as long as he can because sooner or later he knows it’s going to come to an end.

You let out a groan as you stretch your legs on your couch letting your sock covered feet land in Ethan’s lap which makes him just roll his eyes when he looks down and sees you wiggling your toes at him. He turns to look at you and lets out a laugh when you poke your bottom lip out and continue to wiggle your toes, a combination you know he can’t resist. Ethan lets out a huff as he places his phone down on the table next to the couch so he can use both hands to gently rub your slightly swollen ankles.

“You’re so lucky I love you because I usually never touch feet for free.” He states making you laugh as you get comfortable and go back to reading one of the pregnancy books Anne gave you the last time she came over. “Oh so how was the shopping trip the other day? Didn’t see you two on the news and you never called me to bail you out of jail so that must mean it went well?” He asks with a teasing tone that makes you roll your eyes as you flip a page in your book.

“It did go well actually I got a few new books for the twin’s bookshelf.” You begin as you lower your book a bit so you can see Ethan’s face over the top of it. “We picked baby names and-”

“Excuse me?” His eyes are wide and his hands momentarily stop rubbing your ankles as he snaps his head in your direction. “You did what now?”

“We sort of agreed on two baby names. I told him the one I’ve been thinking about for a girl-”

“Nora Anne?”

“Yes and he liked it but he thought it was because of Nora Jones.”

“Well yeah you can’t expect Mr. Asshole to know who Nora Roberts is.” You glare at Ethan for a moment making him just shrug because he doesn’t get what he did wrong so you just continue on explaining the baby names.

“But then he had an idea for a boy name and it’s uhm well it’s Edward James St-”

“James? As in Ethan James your super attractive young neighbor?” He all but shouts as he stares at you with an excited grin on his face and you just nod and laugh because you knew he would react this way to finding out the middle name Harry picked unknowingly wanting to give his son just so happens to belong to the very man he can’t stand.

“Exactly.”

“Weird way to ask me to be their godfather but I accept.” He says with a shrug as he goes back to focusing on rubbing your ankles.

“Don’t get crazy Ethan no one has asked you to be anyone’s godfather.” You explain with a laugh making him let out a dramatic sigh.

“Here I am rubbing your feet and ankles and you don’t even think I’m godfather material? That’s just rude.” You playfully glare at him when he turns his head to look at you with a smile. “But really I’m glad it’s going well with him I know you’ve been through some shit with that asshole so I’m happy that he seems to be making an effort to do things that are actually nice and helpful.” You just nod as you try to focus on the page you’re reading in your book.

“Yeah it’s been-”

“I saw photos of him out with another girl last night.” You drop your book to your lap as Ethan lets out a sigh of relief, feeling ten times lighter now that he’s spilled the beans about something he wasn’t sure he was going to tell you about or not but he figures you deserve to know the whereabouts of the father of your children.

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw photos of Harry out with some chick in a god awful tacky green silk dress with yellow-”

“Ethan.”

“Right sorry.” He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his body a bit so he is facing you, but makes sure your feet are still comfortably resting in his lap. “He was out at some club with her and they left hand in hand and got into his car and the only reason I known it was his car is because I recognized the driver.”

“Is that all?” Ethan raises an eyebrow at your question because you’re handling this rather differently than he expected.

“Uh yeah-yeah that’s all.”

“That’s okay.” You say with a slow nod before you grab your book. “He’s single he can be seen with whoever he wants.” You explain as you turn to the page you were just on, ignoring the look of confusion on Ethan’s face and the way your heart feels like it just dropped to the pit of your stomach.

“It’s okay if it’s not okay you know that right? He’s the father of your babies and it’s perfectly normal to feel attached to him in a way that no one will ever understand.” You can’t look at Ethan as he speaks or you’ll lose it so he just gives your feet a little squeeze before he reaches over and grabs the book out of your hands. “Look at me.” He says as he tosses your book onto your coffee table, you slowly look from your hands that are resting on your bump over to his face and then finally you meet his stare.

“He told me he had plans with his mom last night. That’s why he couldn’t come over to help put up the curtains I got for the nursery but he said he’d do it the next time he’s here to make my juice.” Ethan lets out a sigh as he watches your eyes get glossy as you let him in on a piece of information that you weren’t going to share with him because it seemed unimportant until now.

“God this wouldn’t be happening if you would’ve went with Zayn for your baby daddy.” His voice is serious but you know he’s joking as he reaches for one of your hands.

“Zayn wasn’t an option.” You explain with a sniffle as you try to stop the tears from falling with a few blinks.

“That’s a shame because that man is-”

“Was she pretty?” You mumble as you look away from Ethan and down at his hand that’s got a firm hold of yours as it rests on your bump. You don’t know why you asked because you know it doesn’t matter but you can’t help but be curious.

“Fuck no. She was hideous.” He watches the corners of your mouth twitch as you fight off a smile. “You’re the hottest woman that man has ever been with. Hands down.”

“You’re just saying that so I won’t cry.”

“No I’m not.” He argues as he gives your hand a squeeze. “I’m saying it so you’ll make me the godfather.” He smiles at the sound of your laughter even if it’s a littler watery sounding it’s better than the sound of you bawling your eyes out, that’s one sound he is sick of hearing from you. “I love you. You’re going to be okay.” You let out a sigh as you give his hand a squeeze making him smile.

“Thank you. I love you too.” With that Ethan lets go of your hand so he can lean over and grab your book off the coffee table and hand it back to you. The two of you silently deciding that you’ve had your fill of gossip for the evening so he picks up his phone with one hand and scrolls his social media pages while his other lazily rubs at your ankles. While you try to focus on the words on the page of your book you can’t help but let your mind wonder to the reasons why Harry would lie to you and if you should even bring it up to him. But as you get comfortable on the couch and Ethan lets out a soft sigh you decide that you’ll just deal with Harry later and enjoy your time with one of your bestfriends, refusing to let the man with the big dumb green eyes ruin anymore of your evening.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

He looks to the other wondering what he thinks about this. However, He sees Iku raise a brow about his answer but he didn't want to cause any trouble with anyone. Nor with any of Rioto's close friends and family. It wasn't right to Yuta. That's when he sees him release him but backs up a little to look at him.

"You saying all that makes me feel like a bad guy." Iku smirks as Gakko backs off for a moment, "I hope you prove me wrong because I hate to be right. The way that idiot talks about you is the way he talks about the big guy up there." He jerks his way, referring to Oda sitting with Rioto watching the fight.

"Believe me, I wouldn't lie. I do speak the truth. Besides, Rioto is really a good person but he does care..which makes me happy. Though, I wouldn't want to cause a disturbance when coming to meet the people he's close to." He looks to him seeing him pointing to Oda and the others watching this.

"I already know you're strong. Hell..as much as I fucking hate to admit that. You're stronger than me and strong as Oda. But still..I'm going to keep fighting until I yield or you knock my ass out."

".....I'll admit your pretty strong too....but I'm also happy to know your not backing down. Your willing to fight and fight to see that. I hope that you can prove that to me."

".........." Yuta knew he could have lied, he would have been ordered to lie but he wouldn't do that. He's not the type to lie to someone. Even to someone that Rioto sees close as brothers and friends.

"I believe that you're working for him. I believe you that we aren't his targets since we're here and he's in Sendai. But for the last question, would Mr. Ryomen harm Rioto? Would he tell you to kill us?"

Sighing, Yuta even releases Iku carefully but he held a hand up to see Rikka about to attack but she stops seeing his hand. She stands down to wait for a move.

"No, he won't. Even if Mr. Ryomen is well known for what he does to others that double cross him, or even harm or try to, he's known to show mercy. Even if that's the case; he wouldn't harm Rioto. Even if he orders such a thing, he wouldn't allow it. He tries to keep things peaceful. But no, even if he did, he knows that much. So he won't."

"I'm going to tell you this. Rioto is a stupid idiot. Always follow orders and always think of Oda and everything he represents. He's that loyal of a guy. Hell, he's a better person than me. " Iku speaks, "So yeah...I'm kinda ticked off that you punched me in the stomach. But I'm more ticked off if someone fucks around with my teammates. So in the future, if you tried to do something, he might try to kill himself by stopping you. If there was a slight chance, he might blame himself and off himself before or after beating you." Iku tells Yuta, letting those words sink in."

"Get what I'm saying?"

"..I do.." He said this with his eyes looking at him.

"I can get that Rioto follows orders to your leader and I get that. He always told me that you and the others are his close brothers and family. He's done so much and wants to show that to prove he's a good general to you guys." He looks quiet again but closed his eyes.

"I know you are furious that I did that and ticked you off. But I will give you my word I would never fuck around with Rioto. I wouldn't do anything to hurt him or trick him. I would do everything to ensure he was safe and happy. Even when he's already kind enough to let me come to this beautiful home land of his. I wouldn't let anything harm him even with that. I won't even let him hurt himself either because I'll be sure to stop him before he does. So yes; I get what your saying....even if you hate my guts..that won't stop me from wishing to help and keep Rioto safe. If you don't believe me, I don't know how else I can prove that."

[revelboo]

man dude u are an absolute GOD with how much writing you keep pumping out THANK YOU FOR FEEDING USSSSSSSSSSS

I’m just having fun

Everything Is Alright Pt 122

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Optics on the ceiling overhead, on anything but you and your two mates fussing over you, Megatron swallows a growl. That all too familiar feeling of alienation that he remembers from the mines lifting through him. Thought that he'd gotten past this. That it could no longer hurt him, but it's as bitter now as it was back then. Being right there and ignored. Not belonging. And he hates it with a passion. "You two realize this changes everything," he says to Soundwave and Starscream and the Seeker's optics immediately narrow.

• "What exactly does this change?" Starscream growls, hand cupping the back of your head when you finally lay your cheek on his chassis. “I can tend to my mate. I don’t need either of you.” And you stiffen against him. Because as much as he despises the pair of them, you’d chosen them. Wants so much to resent you for that. For forcing him into this mess. They’re not his trine. Not brothers. They’re enemies. Wings drooping slightly then flaring when Soundwave immediately tries to comfort you, he growls. “But my mate does. For some reason.”

• Fighting a smile because that’s probably as civil as Starscream can be given the circumstances, you reach back a hand and Soundwave laces his servos with your fingers. And you’re painfully aware of how messed up whatever this is between the four of you is. That none of them are exactly happy. “Can we just try to start over?” Know you’re asking a lot of them. That this is all your fault anyway. “But you’re so tired of the fighting and scheming.

• “I’m not going to suddenly forget how many times your traitorous little Seeker has stabbed me in the back,” Megatron growls, but he sounds more tired than truly angry. That alone helps Soundwave relax some. Wants to pull you away from Starscream, separate you from him so he can just focus on your emotions. Wanting to try and figure out why you’d fully bonded Megatron after shunning him. It’s what he’d been working towards, but it still hurts that you’d chosen the warlord over him. How many times had he put Megatron ahead of himself, though? Should be used to it. Doing the hard things for the greater good. Even if it hurts. Always loyal. Obedient. Not allowed to want anything for himself, but he does want you even if you don’t want him.

• “Because you’re running the cause into the ground,” Starscream snarls wings lifting and the warlord’s head turns to stare at him. And he’s never been free to speak his mind without fear of pain or retribution, but he can say whatever the pit he wants right now and he’s untouchable because they’re both fully bonded to you. It’s like a dam falling in his processor. All the frustration, hate, and anger pouring out. “Do you have any idea how many stupid decisions you make? How many actions are driven by your desire to kill Optimus, not actual strategy? But what the frag do you know about strategy anyway? A miner and a gladiator. You have so many advisors and you don’t listen to any of us, too busy acting out your little vendetta while the cause suffers. I believed in you.”

• “You only believe in power,” Megatron counters, rolling and propping himself up on an arm. And your skin prickles, not really liking being so small and between them while they argue. Feel Soundwave hook an arm around your middle and pull you to him and away from Starscream like he’s concerned too. “You lie and scheme and paint yourself as a worthy leader, but you’re a coward scrabbling for any power or control you can get your servos on.” Yeah, you don’t want to be anywhere near them if they’re about to brawl. Both tensed like they’re seconds from launching at each other and then slowly relaxing to make you realize you were holding your breath. And Megatron glances at you, vents noisily and resumes staring at the ceiling. “You’re brave with our little pet to protect you.”

Previous

Slowly remembering how to do this/accidentally stabbing myself with the needle so many times. I’m much rustier at this than I thought, though 🫠 looks more like Wheeljack’s illegitimate love child than Starscream at this point. Just a few more pins to finish my bag now

[notherpuppet]

Do you have a ko-fi or another thing where we can donate to help out? 🥺💕

Hi! I do have a kofi, but that's really just for folks who want to tip me for the Hazbin stuff I share. I really appreciate the sentiment, but I think donations can go to a cause in need! 💕 I know folks have recommended to me to open a patreon but thatttttt just doesn't really suit me tbh. i've tried patreon before and it was a lot of pressure for me and it felt like a job.

i want this to continue to be my lovely hobby, so i try to avoid avenues that feel like work. i can't express how much i appreciate the generosity folks extend to me when they like my stuff. i want to keep any monetary thing with this hobby focused on that kind of energy vs. a transactional thing 💗

[girlwithbloodyfangs]

how consciousness is connected with manifestation

So I watched this youtube video called "Strange Experiences Of Consciousness That I Have No Scientific Explanation Or Proof For But That's OK" by goobie and dobbie.

listening to him, he shared his strange magical experience in his life, how everything is connected ,how everything is just a consciousness, how we all can feel the truth / existence / each other....because we all are somehow somewhere is connected with each other , might we are all one or maybe everything is just me/you and experiencing my/our imagination...i mean it could get a lot much deeper but one thing is for sure that everything is just an consciousness. i also recently discovered an instagram profile where this guy talks about after death experience shared by people while they were hypnothiest , he talks about some experiment which would have been done on people, like kids sharing their past life experience..they still remember their past life, talking about how we all souls have free will to experience things , we all have multiple soulmates....a lot of bunch things, overall focusing on the after death experience....i think everything is depend on your belief system, only if you allow things to be true, i think every possible thing that you can imagine it exist. things you have never imagined could also exist, in simple words possibility is infinite, as creation is already done all the possibilities already exists. This world is full of magic, creativity and art..we make things beautiful and strange at the same time. I find it cool to be honest. As that guy shared his dream experience in his video, how his dream was connected with strange things happening around him and somehow guiding him for good and giving him clarity in terms of his life choice...which is strange and cool at the same time..in conclusion everything is connected. I don't know, I just find this fact so mesmerizing.

So I would like to connect this information with manifestation :)

About manifestation, i think it's really just the easiest thing ever to experience your desire in 3D, cause everything is connected. right ? If I want something, I can just decide that I have it and for sure will experience it because it is meant for me ( not in future terms that I will but with faith and knowing that yeah, it's guaranteed ). because I know everything is connected so if i would focus on that one thought it would influence that thing and i would attract that thing in my reality. one thing i know for sure that everything happens in your favour and by your choice. If you have negative/positive beliefs (which most probably shapes your 3D reality) , if you want something different from your beliefs that you have built overtime, you can just take a break and think from a relaxed mind and decide what you want, instead of worrying and having fear or doubts. just give it a try, don't force it and imagine it. imagine things to be more easy and things always go with a flow as you favour it. manifestation is just deciding what you want and trust that it is meant to happen, well happy news for you because everything is connected (consciousness) it meant to happen. Another reason why persistence and repetition have been called the key to manifestation. Do yourself a favour trust that it's done, visualize as much as you can, affirm as you remember about your desire, think as "what would you think if you already have your desire", try to be in wish fulfilled, at the end of the day it is meant to happen so keep up with the faith and ignore those opposing thoughts.

Final talk about time!!!! well, it depends on your belief, if you think you can manifest instantly then you do otherwise you don't. As for a fact time is just an illusion/ imagination, it doesn't exist not even for your subconscious mind. So what you do to manifest things faster is by persisting, repetition ,being in the knowing state that it's done and keeping up with your faith. if something doesn't align perfectly in your 3D, please don't torture yourself by questioning, why? instead reaffirm with confidence and faith.

btw this is my first own blog, i hope it will be helpful to those of you who are new to manifestation and want to gain some clarity.

so, I would call this my today's epiphany or a journal. if it helps you, i am glad...have a nice day and happy manifesting.

~keep slaying ;) #girlwithbloodyfangs

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Trying

steddie, omegaverse, mpreg, cw: vomit, cw: miscarriage, angst with a happy ending

Steve knows better than to get his hopes up when he and Eddie start trying for a baby. He knows it can take time. That it isn’t just about throwing out his birth control and getting dicked down three times a week—anything more than that leads to diminishing returns: lower sperm count, less ejaculate. He’s already on prenatal vitamins and he’s eating better; he’s cut alcohol and coffee from his diet.

But it’s not like he expects it to happen right away.

Then he starts puking.

At anything. Weird smells, weird tastes, eating too late in the morning or too early, drinking water too fast. So, he pulls a test out of the bathroom cupboard, pees, waits the five minutes.

Eddie finds him crying in the bathroom twenty minutes later. Steve cried so hard he threw up. But the test has two blue lines, confirmation of the life growing inside him.

Sinking to the floor, Eddie gets his arms around his omega, kisses his temple and pets his hair, and whispers his love and excitement into the skin of Steve’s neck.

They can’t believe it’s happened so fast.

They don’t tell anyone, not even Robin—not even Wayne—because Steve is too nervous, too superstitious.

It doesn’t stop the blood from coming three days before his first prenatal appointment. He calls the office in a panic, and when the nurse says, “Some spotting is normal, even enough to look like a light period, how much blood have you-”

“A lot. I’m already on my third overnight pad today.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry, honey.” After that, she tells him to call again if the bleeding gets worse, or if he faints. That it’s early enough he should be fine managing it at home.

She keeps his appointment slot, so his doctor can do blood work, give him a full physical.

Eddie offers to go with him, but Steve needs a little time alone. Needs a little privacy.

He’s sitting on the exam table, paper under his bare ass, wearing a soft pink hospital gown. “Was it my fault?” He can’t help crying as he asks, explaining about the morning sickness, how he was afraid to eat half the time for fear it would come right back up.

Dr. Greene holds his hand, in both of hers. “No, Steve. This early it usually means something’s wrong with the embryo. Genetic non-viability.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think the morning sickness helped, but it didn’t cause this. It’s just what happened. And it’s quite common. There’s a reason we say not to announce a pregnancy until the second trimester.”

Steve nods, grateful even if he can’t stop his tears. “Thank you,” he whispers, relieved.

Dr. Greene just squeezes his hand, and walks him through all the tests and checks she wants to do. Steve leaves his appointment with a half-dozen pamphlets, including one with tips for fighting morning sickness.

He spends the afternoon reading, and stocks up on ginger candy in preparation.

Eddie is cautious for the next week, always offering Steve comfort, holding him close and kissing him sweetly. Steve is the one to get back to business, jumping Eddies bones as soon as he has the go-ahead.

It takes two months for them to get pregnant again, and Steve’s morning sickness comes back.

The ginger candy helps, and the ginger ale. Sometimes he does a cold compress on his chest, and it’s enough to stop the urge to vomit. He’ll pinch the skin between his thumb and forefinger, and that helps most of the time.

But not always. Usually, when he first wakes up, or when he gets out of the shower it will hit him hard and fast.

He makes it to ten weeks this time, before the spotting and the cramping. Steve’s at work when it starts and he tells his boss he’s sick, drives straight to the OBGYN office, hoping they can do something.

But he’s already passed a clot, the bleeding worse.

A nurse finds him an empty exam room so he can clean up. Compose himself a little. He calls Eddie at work and tells him the bad news.

“I’m coming, baby, just give me ten minutes, and I’ll be there,” Eddie promises, ready to care for his mate.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll see you at home.”

“Steve!”

“You shouldn’t leave work for this. I’m just gonna go home and lie down.”

Steve hangs up. He feels like a failure.

When Eddie gets home that night, he finds Steve on the couch eating butterscotch ice cream. He plops down next to him, gets an arm around his shoulder, and just lets Steve melt against him. “It’ll be okay, baby. These things take time.”

“I know,” Steve whispers. “I was just really excited this time…”

“As soon as you’re ready, we’ll start trying again.” He pulls Steve into his lap, not even caring that the mostly empty ice cream carton is being squished to his chest. “And no matter what, I will always love you.”

“I love you so much,” Steve murmurs back, pressing his tears to Eddie’s neck.

💔💔💔

Over the next year and a half, Steve loses three more pregnancies before the end if the first trimester. His morning sickness is better by the last one, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

They have another appointment with Dr. Greene, this time to go over their options, and do a bit more testing, but the night before, Steve is distraught. “I can’t do it again,” he whimpers. “I can’t fall in love with another baby that I don’t get to meet. Eddie, I can’t!”

Eddie can’t either. But it’s not his body. He doesn’t feel that same connection Steve does, doesn’t bear the same burden. But he still loved each and every one.

He also can’t stand the thought of Steve suffering again. His mate has been through more than enough.

Then the tests come back, and Dr. Greene smiles kindly. “Steve, there’s nothing in your blood work or health history that should be contributing to this. But the ovum is a robust little cell. In fact, research indicates that problems frequently boil down to sperm count… And quality.”

Eddie freezes. He knows he eats better than he did when he met Steve—Steve feeds him after all—but he has… Bad habits. “How bad is it?” he asks, cringing internally as he thinks about how proud he was to fill his sample cup past the halfway point that afternoon. Pointless alpha preening.

“Your sperm count is actually in the normal range for an alpha your age, which is a good sign, especially knowing you’re a smoker, Eddie. But your motility is low, which means even fewer sperm make it far enough to reach the egg. It means odds of a healthy sperm fertilizing the egg are lowered.”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand in apology. “So, it’s my fault,” he says, keeping his voice even.

“This isn’t about placing blame,” Dr. Greene starts.

At the same time, Steve murmurs, “Eddie, no…”

“No,” Eddie says clearly, forcing a smile. “If there’s something I can do, I will.”

He quits smoking cold-turkey, needing the nicotine out of his system. Eddie knows too many guys who traded their pack a day smoking habit for a pack a day of nicotine gum. Every time he even thinks about smoking he snaps a rubber band on his wrist, and remembers how many times he’s found Steve crying over the past two years.

He gets more vegetables in his diet, leafy greens that taste bitter as hell, but he still eats every salad Steve packs fir his lunch.

In the end, the hardest part is exercising. Eddie hates running. He hates it. Even going for a morning run with Steve doesn’t help because Steve does 5K no problem, and Eddie feels like he’s dying after six blocks.

They stop running together, but Eddie keeps running. He goes to a weekly yoga class and starts swimming laps at the Y.

He and Steve take a break from sex. Then, when they do have sex, they use protection. Steve won’t risk it. Not yet.

They wait neatly a year, Eddie asking to have his sperm checked at his annual physical. There’s no pride this time in how much he managed to jizz in the sample cup, only the relief at being told, “Your sperm count is on the high end of average, with good motility. Overall, everything looks healthy, but if you’d like a referral to a specialist, I can give you one.”

Eddie calls Steve with the good news, promising that they can wait as long as Steve wants before they start trying again, that the lifestyle changes are sticking around.

Steve tells Eddie to get his ass home. Right away.

Eddie finds Steve in the bedroom, wearing lingerie for the first time in a couple years. He’s seated on their bed in the prettiest lilac silk, and he stands as soon as Eddie’s through the door, pouncing on him. “I love you, Eddie,” he mumbles between kisses.

“Love you so much, baby,” Eddie murmurs back, ready to celebrate their small victory. He guides Steve back to the bed, ready to worship his beautiful tits as soon as he’s unwrapped them.

He touches Steve everywhere. Kisses him everywhere. Holds him close once they are both naked and sweaty. He reaches for the bedside table, but Steve stops him. “No condom,” he whines. “I’m ready.”

“Are you sure?”

“Eddie, you’ve spent the past year getting healthy for this, for us. It sounds like it worked.” Steve reaches down, takes Eddie’s hard cock in hand, stroking him roughly, the way he likes. “Let’s try again,” Steve says with finality. “Let’s make a baby.”

💕💕💕

A year later, Steve is seven months pregnant and glowing. He had some morning sickness this time, but it went away before the second trimester. Now, he has to pee. All the time. And he’s always hungry.

Eddie dotes on him, making sure even his wildest craving are satisfied, which includes an astounding amount of pickled jalapeños and tapioca pudding. But he’s right on track, everything routine, perfectly healthy.

It’s all worth it. Soon, they’ll get to meet their little girl.