#I’m just putting this here so I don’t forget

[fawnhart]

drew begs bambi to forgive him ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

They had just wrapped filming her final season on Outer Banks. The whole time, Bambi acted as if she wasn’t hurting inside and nailed every single take flawlessly. Drew, on the other hand, was a mess and everyone knew it.

He kept messing up his lines, forgetting his call times, and dozing off between takes. In a way, Bambi felt bad for him. But he had no right to her sympathy, at least not at the moment

Now, both back in New York, Drew for a photoshoot and Bambi back in her elementl she couldn’t help but look at him with disgust and anger.

How dare he show up?!

It was one of those nights where everything was happening all at once and nothing at all. Drew stood at Bambi’s townhome door, soaked from the rain, his hands trembling, his chest tight. His mullet was a mess, not giving a damn if paparazzi caught him. He just wanted her to listen. She stood there, arms crossed as her eyes burned with anger, hurt, maybe a little curiosity, but mostly just tired.

she had every right to be

“Please, Bambi. Please, let me in. I can’t” He cut himself off, his voice breaking just a little, the words too heavy in his chest. He couldn’t keep pretending to be fine. Not anymore.

She didn’t move, arms crossed, standing her ground. She was beautiful like that, even if her face was streaked with tears, even if her lip trembled slightly.

“You can’t just come in here after everything, Drew.” Her voice was quieter than he expected, but sharper. It made his heart twist “You think you can just say sorry and it all goes away!?”

“I’ve been a mess without you, baby. I’ve screwed everything up,” he said, his words coming out in a rush “I was… I was just scared. Scared of you and your reputation, of what people would say about us. i-” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to hold it together “I thought if I distanced myself, it would protect you.”

Bambi’s expression softened, just a little, but not enough for him to get comfortable. She was still holding that distance “You pushed me away because of what other people might think?” Her voice wavered just slightly on the word might. “And that’s supposed to be for my own good?”

He dropped his head, his eyes stinging “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was..no, I am an idiot.

She didn’t say anything, but her gaze never wavered. After a long silence, she sighed, her breath shaky “And then there’s your friend” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He didn’t need to ask which friend she meant. That girl. The one who had spent more time telling Drew what a mess he was for being with her than actually being his “friend”. Drew had started to feel that insidious doubt creeping in, her words twisting around in his head like vines.

“She told you I wasn’t good enough, didn’t she?” Bambi asked, and there was a bitter edge to her voice.

“i-I didn’t believe her, baby,” Drew said quickly, his hands shaking again. He took a step forward, desperate “I never believed her. I-look, I shouldn’t have listened to her at all. I was so caught up in my own shit, and-”

“And what!? You let her tell you who I am!? Who we are!? But you were perfectly fine having sex with me?, right” she said feeling utterly and totally used

He swallowed hard, a heavy knot in his throat “I should’ve told her to back the fuck off. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve never let her put those thoughts in my mind. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The air in the apartment felt thick, too heavy to breathe. He finally dropped to his knees, his face flushed with the weight of it all “I love you, Bambi. Please... don’t shut me out. I need you. I can’t fix this without you.”

Her eyes flickered with pain as she stared down at him, her arms still crossed, but now her lips were pressed tightly together as she fought back more tears. She couldn’t let him see her break just yet. Not like this. Not when she was still trying to figure out whether or not she could believe him.

“You really hurt me, Drew. You have no idea how much.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she turned away, wiping at her eyes. She moved slowly, the silence between them stretching like a thin wire.

Drew stayed kneeling, helpless. “Please, Bambi. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do.”

She turned back to him, eyes red-rimmed but steady. “You have to prove it. You have to show me you’re not just talking. Words don’t mean anything anymore.” She paused, her gaze hardening. “And you need to cut her off. She’s clearly got it out for me, and for us, and you can’t keep her around if you want to make this right.”

He nodded immediately “I swear I will. I’ll cut her off. I’ll do anything. Just... please don’t leave me.” His voice was raw, the last of his pride crumbling.

Bambi stared at him for a long moment, and then she sighed “Fine,” she said quietly “But I’m not forgiving you tonight. I need to think about it.”

Drew’s heart sank, but he nodded, trying to be understanding, even if every fiber of him wanted to scream.

“Get up, you’re embarrassing me” He stood up slowly, and she led him into her townhome, but not without a sharp glance over her shoulder as she said, “And you’re sleeping outside tonight, With my cat.”

Drew blinked, startled. “What?”

“I’m serious. Outside. With Ms. Mocha. You can sleep on the balcony.” Her tone was final, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked past him into the closet, grabbing a blanket and tossing it in his direction.

Drew was about to protest, but the look on her face stopped him. The soft, determined way she held herself now was a reminder of why he loved her in the first place, because she never made anything easy for him. She knew her worth, even if he had forgotten for a while.

He grabbed the blanket, muttering, “I’m an idiot.”

Her lips quirked up at that, just a little. “Yeah. You are. But you’re still my idiot.” She softened then, her voice growing quieter. “you have to prove you deserve to be with me. Because I can’t go back to being second place.”

Drew nodded, his chest tight. “I swear I will. I swear.” He hesitated then added “can I atleast sleep on the couch?” he said with a weak smile

Bambi rolled her eyes, but it was playful now, the tension easing just enough for her to offer him a tiny truce. “Fine. I haven’t burned your clothes yet, consider yourself lucky.” She said heading to her room to grab some of his pajamas he had left there several times

He laughed softly, grateful for the small weird victory. He knew it was far from over, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

“missed you Mocha” he whispered as he curled up on her soft pink couch, Ms. Mocha curled up next to him with an irritated meow, Drew stared at the night sky view from her townhome, wondering how he could have been so fucking stupid. But maybe, he had a chance to make it right.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[steddieas-shegoes]

i don’t know why i can’t take my eyes off of you

for @steddielovemonth day one using You and Me by Lifehouse

rated t | 1186 words | no cw | tags: future fic, second chances, mutual pining, idiots in love, songwriter Eddie, teacher Steve

🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒🛒

Steve’s walking down the frozen section of Melvald’s when time stops.

Not literally. The watch on his wrist is still ticking. The clock on the wall at the front of the store is still moving. People around him are still grabbing their groceries.

But Eddie Munson is standing in front of the ice cream section like he belongs there.

Eddie left Hawkins five years ago.

He kissed Steve on the lips, then the forehead, and left.

Steve’s thought about it, about him, every day since.

Eddie hasn’t noticed him yet. Maybe Steve should leave before he does. Last he’d heard, Eddie was working at a recording studio as a songwriter, halfway making his dreams come true.

He’s happy, or at least that’s what all the kids have said when he’s brought up. They don’t know about the kiss, at least Steve doesn’t think they do. He’s never told them.

It’s busy enough in the store that Steve’s pretty sure he can sneak away before Eddie sees him. He starts to back away, but immediately bumps into an old woman.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” He’s asking, and she’s brushing him off and saying she’s fine. He feels terrible.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice is like music, always has been a melody made specifically for Steve.

“Eddie,” Steve says as the old woman walks away. “Hey.”

Steve forgets he’s in public as the world around him fades and all he sees, smells, wants, is Eddie.

“I didn’t know you were still in Hawkins,” Eddie says quietly, leaning forward on his toes. He’s got a new battle vest, though it looks well-worn. Steve wonders if he knows that his old vest is hanging in his closet, if he knows that Steve pulls it out every once in a while so he can put it on and feel a little less alone.

“Yeah. Never left.” It sounds worse than it is. Steve always said he’d leave when all the kids left, but once they did, he didn’t know where to go. It’s not like he could follow them around, couch-surfing across the country a month or two at a time, burdening them with his self-imposed loneliness.

“You look good,” Eddie says, changing the subject.

Leaving Hawkins was a touchy subject for Steve the last time he’d seen Eddie. It still is. Eddie must sense that.

“So do you,” Steve breathes out. He does. He looks healthy and happy, something Hawkins had completely drained from him before. “What are you doing back?”

“Just visiting Wayne. Usually he comes to see me, but he insisted he didn’t wanna deal with the ‘big city’ this time. And I’m the best nephew, so I said ‘sure, old man, I’ll go back to the town that hates my guts!’ And here I am trying to find my favorite ice cream at the store. They don’t have it,” Eddie shrugs. He rambles when he’s nervous, still. “He hasn’t mentioned seeing you around or anything, though.”

“Yeah, I guess we don’t cross paths much,” Steve laughs awkwardly. He can’t remember the last time he saw Wayne. Must’ve been around Christmas, when Steve was helping Joyce with her decorations while Hopper worked overtime and Wayne stopped by to drop off some lights. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s good. Stubborn as hell. Won’t retire even though he could,” Eddie shakes his head. “Think he’s scared of being bored.”

“Or lonely.”

The words escape Steve before he can hold them back.

Eddie’s face softens, but it’s not full of pity. Everyone always gives Steve this look, like they know he’s putting on a brave face. Not Eddie.

“Wayne’s always been content alone. He’s got friends, and he calls me when he has something new to argue about,” Eddie leans in closer. “I don’t really worry about Wayne. Other people, sure.”

“Like who?” Steve swallows.

“You settle down yet?” Eddie asks in response.

Steve’s so shocked by the question, he doesn’t answer.

“I figured the kids were just being nice by not telling me if you did, but you’re not wearing a ring and you’re grocery shopping alone, so…” Eddie rambles again. Steve feels his heart flutter in his chest.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Are you dating someone?”

Steve shakes his head. “Haven’t really found anyone interesting.”

“Interesting? Since when does Steve Harrington want someone interesting?”

Since the most interesting person he knows kissed him and then left. Since everyone else is boring in comparison to you. Since he realized he was dumb to let you go.

“I guess what I thought I wanted is different now. Has been for a while,” Steve shrugs.

It’s strange how easily Steve becomes wrapped up in Eddie’s orbit, how quickly everything else didn’t matter the moment Eddie started talking to him. It’s just the two of them.

“Excuse me,” a man says to their left. Steve jumps back and apologizes for blocking where he needed to be. Eddie’s eyes never leave Steve.

When the man walks away, Steve clears his throat.

“How long are you in town?”

“How long will it take me to convince you to come back with me?”

Steve chokes on his next breath. “What? Come back with you? To…”

“New York or Chicago. I’m getting a promotion and they’ll let me pick where I wanna go. I’ve been leaning towards Chicago because more of the music I enjoy is making a mark there,” Eddie explains. “And there’s plenty of options for you there, too. Dustin said you just finished your teaching degree.”

“Dustin talks about me?”

“Only when unprovoked,” Eddie grins. “Have you been waiting for me?”

It’s blunt, but Eddie always has been. Steve can hide a lot of emotions from people; It’s been a survival tactic for most of his life.

He’s never been able to hide shit from Eddie.

“Not on purpose.”

Eddie looks at his basket of items. He was really only here for a few things, but he saw his favorite cookies were on sale and he couldn’t resist stocking up. He looks between the basket and Eddie’s eyes.

“You wanna come to mine for dinner?”

“Is dinner cookies?” Eddie laughs, poking at the package closest to the top.

“That’s dessert,” Steve laughs, too. He finds it easy. He never thought it could be this easy after the time that’s passed, the distance they had between them.

“First dessert.”

“What are we, hobbits?” Steve asks.

Eddie’s jaw drops open. “Steve, please. Not in public.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know you read it!” Eddie groans, but he’s smiling, so Steve’s not actually worried.

“I’ve read a lot of things! I’ve been waiting for you, remember?”

An announcement starts in the store— someone’s car is blocking a delivery truck entrance— and they both take a step away from each other. They were much closer than they should be in the grocery store.

This is still Hawkins, and people already don’t like Eddie. Looking cozier than two dudes normally would might be dangerous for both of them.

“So. Dinner?” Steve asks again. It’s easier to remember there are other people around with some distance between them.

“Sure. Dinner.”

Time starts again.

[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.

[jjslvt]

AYO TECHNOLOGY ── .✦ mdni, 18+ .ᐟ.ᐟ

❝she wants it. so? i gotta give it to her.❞ 𓏲𝄢 (slight song inspo)

imagine sexting fwb!jj to the point of you two being absolutely frustrated and losing your goddamn minds. both of you had plans today but when you sent him that first risky photo, it all went downhill from there.

you two ignored texts from anyone else and went at it, from one nude photo to another until he started texting teasing words and you replied with even more filth.

his cock already leaking in precum when he started reading those messages and it didn’t take long for him to snake his hand down his boxers, recalling the feeling of your tight cunt around him.

> fuckin’ hell, mama…

[ 11:45 AM ]

> already touching yourself, jj? imagining my pretty little pussy like a cocksleeve?

[ 11:46 AM ]

he groaned at that, gripping tighter and giving himself a few pumps before replying.

> you know i am and idk what’s got into you baby but i ain’t complaining, holy…

[ 11:48 AM ]

> i was listenin’ to this song & thought of you… fucking me in every position, jayyy. been touching myself already… so wet…

[ 11:50 AM ]

and boy, did he love when his friend was this dirty for him. in fact, he hadn’t even hooked up with others since you two started this thing.

so, the sexting went on until it eventually reached calling each other after coming the first time because it wasn’t enough for you, nor him.

you both came again after hearing each other pant and groan into the phone, talking vulgar. you even went as far as to put the speaker near your pussy so he could hear every lewd and slick squelch which made him explode.

“hnghhh, f-fuuuuck… you…” he let out a guttural groan then tried to calm himself a bit. he just couldn’t get the sounds out of his ears, it’s like they replayed.

“babe, i don’t think technology is gonna be enough for papa j…” he sounded so wrecked and his cock was still painfully throbbing even after coming twice, he was still full stamina. every vein was protruding and felt hot. especially after hearing that.

you had some power over him, making him feel so desperate for you.

“yeah? need me, jay?” you barely panted out, equally as wrecked.

“god yes. i need you right in front of me.” he replied and you smirked to yourself because he quoted a lyric from that song. to think, one song turned your imagination wild and had you this horny for him.

“yeah? then papa j should come to mama right now… should come fuck my brains out.”

he instantly took that invitation, rising up from his bed—not giving a shit if he was ditching any plans with the bros. he needed you now.

“oh, you better be ready cos i’m gonna fuck you til you can’t walk… until you forget your own damn name, sweetheart- riling me up so much.”

that made you almost whimper into the phone, your cunt already aching to feel him inside of you and your stomach feeling butterflies.

“hurry up, jj… get over here and fuck me dumb.”

in record time, he arrived and had you riding him first on your bed as he stuffed his cock into you, thrusting upwards roughly with every bounce you gave. his hands gripping your hips so tightly, it might have bruised even but it all felt pleasurable.

you grabbed onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and he nipped your earlobe in return.

you kept rolling and grinding your hips when you rode him. both of you feeling extra sensitive from everything so he let out grunts into your ear, holding you close as you let out moans & whines every time he hit those spots.

it didn’t even end there because he really kept his promise and fucked you dumb, giving you every drop of his cum that he could muster until he was spent.

you fucking loved it.

both of you lying on your backs with the rapid risings and fallings of your chest.

“you… haa, really… did that…” you panted.

“hah. yeah, y’know i always deliver for you… were hornier than me i think, darlin.”

you huffed because he wasn’t wrong, though he got super horny too. you did start it so you flushed at that and he turned his head, seeing and smirking. he raised a hand to stroke your cheek.

“i enjoyed it… you can be needy for me. you can want me, this is mutual. promise to satisfy you every time.”

you felt something in your chest stir at that. he would get surprisingly soft after all the raunchy stuff and all you could do was nuzzle into his neck.

and he was also feeling the same. he wrapped an arm around you and wondered how much longer you two would keep up the whole “fwb” situation.

note: first smut here. hope it was worth something aha

[olderwomenenthusiast]

tell me in the morning (spencer reid)

PAIRING: spencer reid & fem reader DESCRIPTION: you make sure spencer tells you his confession when he's sober CAUTION: drunk spencer WORD COUNT: 2.1k AUTHOR'S NOTE: not proof read, they never are x

Morgan stared at Spencer, who was swaying slightly on the barstool, eyes half-lidded and a slight slur to his words. "Man, you're not usually like this," Morgan said, an amused yet concerned expression on his face. "Rossi, we need to get him out of here."

Rossi just shook his head, eyeing Spencer with a mix of disbelief and sympathy. "He's not usually this bad, but he’s been on a roll tonight. I think we pushed him a bit too far."

Morgan was already reaching for his phone, dialing your number. The sound of it ringing echoed in his ear. "Hey, it's Morgan. We’ve got a problem. Reid’s way too drunk, and I don’t think he can make it home on his own. Can you come pick him up?"

He paused, hearing the concern in your voice. "Yeah, I know, we tried. But you’re his best bet. Please come get him."

He glanced at Spencer, who was now giggling at some joke only he understood, then back at Rossi. "I’ll keep an eye on him, but he’s not going anywhere until you get here."

When you walked in, you saw Spencer’s usual sharpness completely gone, replaced by a goofy grin and a drowsy gaze. He perked up when he saw you, his eyes widening a little. "Hey, hey, it’s you! My favorite person," he slurred, attempting to stand but stumbling into the table beside him.

"Spence," you said softly, moving quickly to steady him, a little worried at how uncharacteristically vulnerable he was. "Let’s get you out of here, okay?"

He nodded, his head falling onto your shoulder as you helped him to his feet. "I’m fine, really," he muttered, but it was clear he wasn’t. He leaned into you more than usual, his weight pressing heavily on your side.

Morgan shot you a quick, apologetic look, and Rossi gave a knowing nod, both stepping back to let you take the lead.

"You’ve got him, right?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah," you replied, though there was no hiding the concern in your voice. "Don’t worry. I’ve got him."

Spencer gave a soft laugh, his arm sliding around your waist as you guided him out of the bar. "You always know how to make me feel better," he murmured, his voice muffled against your shoulder.

You smiled, though it was laced with worry. "Let’s just get you home, Spence."

As you led Spencer out of the bar, his head bobbing slightly as he struggled to stay upright, you could feel the weight of the situation settling in. He was usually so put-together, so controlled—this side of him, so vulnerable and unguarded, was unsettling.

"You really went all in tonight, huh?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light, even as your concern deepened.

Spencer chuckled softly, but there was an odd, almost self-deprecating edge to it. "I just… wanted to forget, you know? For a little while. It’s... hard sometimes."

You stopped, glancing at him. He looked at you, eyes unusually glassy, but there was still that familiar vulnerability in his gaze. "Spence, you don't have to do this alone, you know. We’re here for you."

He leaned against you a little more, letting out a sigh. "I know. It’s just... sometimes it feels like I’m too much, even for you guys. Like I’m a burden." His words were slower now, a quiet honesty slipping out as the alcohol loosened his usual guardedness.

Your heart clenched. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol talking or if Spencer truly felt this way, but you weren’t about to let him believe he was a burden to anyone—especially not to you. "You’re not a burden, Spencer. Never have been. We care about you. I care about you."

His head tilted up, just enough to catch your eyes, and for a moment, the playfulness faded as the weight of his words seemed to sink in. "You do?" he asked softly, almost like a whisper, his voice vulnerable in a way you weren’t used to.

You nodded, your hand gently brushing his cheek. "Of course. You're one of my closest friends, Spence. I’ve always got your back."

Spencer didn’t say anything for a few moments. He just stared at you, his expression unreadable, before a small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he whispered, voice full of sincerity.

You smiled back, guiding him toward the car. "Let's just get you home, okay? We'll talk more in the morning."

As you helped Spencer into the car, the ride back was filled with a kind of quiet tension. His hand rested on the seat between you, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach for you, but he never quite did. His usual intelligence and wit seemed clouded, and his mind wandered more than it usually would. Every now and then, he'd mumble something under his breath, something you couldn't quite catch, but it didn’t seem important at the time.

However, as you pulled into the parking spot outside his apartment, he looked over at you with an intensity that was too sharp for the state he was in.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" His voice was softer than usual, almost fragile.

"Of course," you said, keeping the car in park and looking over at him. You noticed how his eyes were fixed on you, a kind of vulnerability in them that you hadn’t seen before.

He shifted, leaning closer, his breath warm on your face. "I’ve been meaning to say this for a long time," he continued, words slow, as if working through something heavy in his mind. "I... I think I’ve always loved you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and the air between you both seemed to hang still for a moment. You blinked, trying to process what he was saying, but Spencer was already moving closer, his hand finding your arm as he leaned in, eyes closing in anticipation of a kiss.

For a brief moment, you froze, feeling a mixture of shock, confusion, and concern. This wasn’t right—not now, not like this.

"Spence," you said, your voice gentle, but firm. You placed your hand on his chest to keep him from leaning in further, your heart pounding in your chest as you made sure he was steady. "I care about you, I do. But this... this isn’t something we should do right now, not when you’re drunk."

He stilled, his face faltering for the briefest of seconds, and when he pulled back, his eyes seemed distant, like he was already retreating into himself. "Oh," he muttered, almost to himself, looking away from you. "Right. I didn’t think... I guess I just thought... you’d feel the same." His voice was tinged with hurt, and that small, vulnerable side of him seemed to sink even further.

You took a deep breath, your hand still gently on his arm, and you spoke softly, careful not to dismiss his feelings. "Spencer," you started again, searching his eyes, making sure he understood. "If you still feel the same way in the morning when you’ve had time to clear your head, then we can talk about it. We can see where things go. But right now, I don’t want you to make any decisions when you’re not yourself."

His expression faltered, but he nodded, albeit reluctantly. "Yeah, okay," he muttered, his gaze dropping. "I just... I just thought... never mind."

You could see the pain behind his words, and it made your heart ache. You reached out to gently squeeze his shoulder, giving him a comforting look. "It’s okay, Spence. Just... let’s get you inside and get some rest. We'll talk more tomorrow, alright?"

He didn’t respond at first, but when you helped him out of the car, his steps were slower, as if the weight of his confession and your response had settled on his shoulders. Inside his apartment, you made sure he was settled onto the couch, and though you could see the disappointment and hurt in his eyes, you also knew that this wasn’t the end of whatever was beginning between you two. It was just a pause, a moment where time had to catch up with feelings and circumstances.

"Sleep, Spence," you whispered, tucking a blanket around him. "I’ll be here when you wake up."

He looked up at you one more time, his gaze soft but weary. "Okay," he said quietly, before closing his eyes. "Thanks for... not making this worse."

You watched him drift into a restless sleep, a swirl of emotions in your chest as you settled into the chair beside him. You didn’t know what the morning would bring, but for now, you stayed by his side, knowing that whatever happened, you would work through it together - when he was ready.

The smell of coffee filled the kitchen as you busied yourself with the morning routine, the soft clink of mugs and the steady drip of the coffee maker offering a comforting normalcy after last night’s emotional rollercoaster. You were trying to focus on the task at hand, but your mind kept wandering back to Spencer, and the confession he had drunkenly blurted out in the car. You hoped that, with time, things would settle; though the quiet anticipation in your chest told you otherwise.

Then, you heard the familiar soft padding of footsteps behind you. You turned to find Spencer standing in the doorway, looking a little disheveled, his hair sticking out in every direction, but there was a slight glint in his eyes that made him look almost endearing in his disoriented state.

"Good morning," you said, offering him a soft smile as you poured the coffee. "You need pain meds? A glass of water?"

He shook his head, blinking as he seemed to gather himself. "No, surprisingly, no headache. Just... a little embarrassed." He scratched the back of his neck, his nervousness clear in the way he avoided your gaze. "I can’t believe I said that last night."

You raised an eyebrow, turning to face him more fully, leaning against the counter. "What exactly did you say last night, Spence? You’ll have to remind me." You couldn’t help but tease him lightly, letting the playful tone soften the tension that still hung in the air.

Spencer flushed, taking a few slow steps closer to you, his eyes never quite meeting yours, though you could see the vulnerability behind them. "I told you I loved you. And I meant it," he murmured, his voice quieter now, more serious than it had been before. "I just... I needed to tell you. I was too scared before."

Before you could stop yourself, your heart softened. You didn’t need time to think about it; you knew exactly how you felt. You stepped closer to him, your voice barely above a whisper. "I love you too, Spencer." Your eyes met his, and the depth of your words seemed to linger between you both.

He seemed to freeze, a surprised little breath escaping him as he finally allowed himself to look at you, his gaze searching your face for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he took one more step toward you, his hand reaching out to cup your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek softly, almost as if he were still trying to convince himself this wasn’t just a dream.

"I’m serious," he said, his voice almost pleading now, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your jaw. "I meant it. I love you."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest at the honesty in his words, but couldn't resist the urge to tease him just a little. "I know you meant it, Spence." You let your fingers brush over his hand where it cupped your face. "But it takes a genius like you to get drunk just to finally tell me."

Spencer’s face flushed deeper, and you could see the little smirk that tugged at his lips, despite the embarrassment. "I guess... I guess I needed a little push."

"You definitely did," you teased, leaning forward just slightly, enough that your lips brushed the edge of his cheek. "But I’m glad you got there."

Spencer chuckled softly, a genuine warmth behind the sound. "I promise next time, no alcohol. I’ll be a little more... coherent when I tell you."

You smiled, your hands gently resting on his chest as you looked up at him, heart full of warmth. "I think I’d like that."

He leaned in just a bit closer, his forehead resting against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your skin. "Good, because I plan on telling you a lot more often."

The air between you seemed to settle, a quiet understanding filling the space. Spencer’s nervousness melted away, and in its place was something stronger, something real. You didn’t know what the future held, but as you stood there with him, the weight of last night’s confession didn’t feel so heavy anymore. It felt right.

[bitchface24-7]

Salutations! I’m new to tumblr and I don’t know how this generally works, but the reason I even started to be here more was after Arcane’s ending

I downloaded the app moment I started reading your writing and other JAYVIK fanfic writers!! I admire your work and believe you have a lovely writing! I enjoy reading your works every time!

I’m embarrassed but I wanted to request a Jayvik x Reader with celebrating the reader’s birthday in some way, doesn’t matter how if it’s hurt to comfort or nsfw or anything (my birthday is today that’s why I ask, it’s bittersweet currently due to comments I’ve received n such) it’s all up to you! I’d be happy if you’d even read this! Thank you so much for your time and have a wonderful day!

YOUR SPECIAL DAY - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: it's your birthday today! Your boys spoil you to the best of their abilities, breakfast in bed, lounging all day, they even baked you a cake the previous night while you slept! The cake is plain, but it's the tastiest cake you've ever had.

warnings: fluffier than a cloud, pre-established relationships, spoiling, physical affection, a birthday everyone deserves, Grammarly as my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. Awe I'm sorry your birthday today is bittersweet due to some people who are buttheads. Happy Birthday!! Ignore them! I hope this fluffy little fic brings you some joy on your special day, and to anyone else who needs a pick me up on their special days too! Xoxo love ya (thanks for the compliments also) ❤️

The sounds of pots and pans clanging together wake you up. You grumble, rubbing your face and running a hand over your head, moving your hair out of your face. You look over to the side and catch your alarm clock, it’s 12:00pm.

You’ve slept in, like, by a lot.

You damn near bolt out of bed until Jayce and Viktor casually stroll into the bedroom, your favourite breakfast on a tray for you to eat in bed.

“What’s all this?” You ask, your voice rough due to sleep; but there’s a light smile on your face. Viktor and Jayce look to one another before bursting out into laughter. You pout at them.

“It’s your birthday today. Did you honestly forget?”

You pause for a second. Your schedule has been so hectic lately, that you felt like you could barely breathe. Your eyes shift to the side as you innocently state, “No?” in a questioning tone, dragging out the vowel as your voice raises in pitch.

Jayce chuckles and places the tray over your lap, the small legs keeping it upright. He kisses your cheek and Viktor puts your favourite drink onto the tray. He kisses your forehead.

Damn. This is a pretty good way to wake up.

“Relax. Eat. Today is a day of lounging. Watching movies, going out to do some activities. Don't even attempt to think about work, that'll make me quite displeased.” Viktor states, his accent rolling across the words smoothly and elegantly. You quirk an eyebrow at him, “As if you're not constantly thinking about work, you hypocrite.”

“Touche.”

And with that, you eat your breakfast and your two boys keep you entertained.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Your birthday couldn't have gone any better. You did all your favourite activities, ate all your favourite food, and spent the day with your two favourite people.

It’s late into the evening by the time you all get home, a few movies are on your mind for you all to watch before heading to bed.

That is until you enter your home and see your boys rush to the kitchen. You just huff a laugh and take your shoes off, putting some slippers on you follow them to their mad dash of an escape.

What you see melts your heart.

It’s a cake. It's simple, with no wording or fancy icing techniques. It's clearly homemade and has a variety of different coloured candles.

It’s perfect.

Jayce and Viktor look sheepish, almost a little embarrassed. You shut that down real quick.

“You guys made me a cake? When?” You ask, your tone one of awe and appreciation. Jayce's shoulders slowly lower and Viktor lightly smiles. He hits Jayce's arm lightly and Jayce grunts in pain.

“I told you they'd like it!”

“Okay okay, you're right! I thought they'd like a nicer cake, that's all.”

“The sentiment means more than a pretty cake.”

You giggle as they bicker, and you wave your hands around a bit to catch their attention again, “Hello? First off, Viktor’s right. Second off, when did you make this? I would've seen you two baking in the kitchen.”

Viktor humphs in triumph and Jayce looks at the two of you fondly, “We made it last night while you slept.”

“You were so exhausted that you slept right through it! Believe me, we made quite a bit of noise. Jayce then had the brilliant idea of you getting breakfast in bed so you wouldn't see the cake in the fridge.”

“Then Viktor had the great idea to take you out, so that way we’d keep the cake a surprise. We'd do activities and eat at our favourite restaurant as well.”

You feel like crying. They're so sweet. So thoughtful. You don't know how you got so lucky.

You rub your nose discreetly as they light the candles, and start to sing happy birthday. Usually you find this part really awkward. You're just kind of there as people sing to you.

But right now, your heart is so full of love you don't even notice. When they're done, you can't help but beam a grin at them and lightly bend over to get closer to the cake. You close your eyes, make your wish, and blow out the candles.

When you open your eyes, all the candles are smoking. You got them all in one shot.

Viktor smiles and takes the candles out as Jayce prepares to cut the cake. You get the first slice, you wait a moment so your boys have their slice as well before taking a big cut with your fork and putting it in your mouth.

It's the most delicious cake you've ever had.

Honestly, what did you do to deserve them? You rant and rave over their cake as they blush and smile and your compliments, casually strolling to the couch where you three debate what movie to watch.

This day couldn't have gone any better.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! Hope you all have had a good day, and that this little fluffy fic makes every ones birthday just a bit sweeter.

[magicalmutants]

I’m All Run and You’re All Fight

Two years

You knew what day it was as you lay awake in bed. You knew it was the middle of the night, that if you turned and looked at the clock, it would say 3:45am. Wide awake thinking about him. You wonder if he thinks of you too.

It had been two years since you had been roused from a fitful sleep to be told that your world was fissuring into something broken and ugly. You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to block out the memory.

“He’s gone. Wiped out the whole village. He’s not coming back.”

You sit upright as you hold your head in your hands. Trying to shove those memories back into the little box you contain them in somewhere in the back of your mind. Somewhere where they couldn’t hurt you. Breathing shakily, you reach into your nightstand and pull out the pack of cigarettes and lighter you keep there and climb out of bed to pad softly over to your window.

You hold the cigarette between your lips as you light it, the harsh taste of burning tobacco filling your mouth. You wrinkle your nose, always forgetting how much you despised this brand. But menthols taste like kisses and summer and a life you’re desperate to forget. These will have to do.

“Here, since you’re so desperate to follow Shoko to an early grave. Try one of these, they kinda taste a little better,”

“You smoke them too! Besides what if I like these ones?”

“You don’t. You always pull a face.”

So much of who you are is an amalgamation of everyone you’ve ever loved. The way you take your coffee because that’s just the kind that Shoko brought for you when you were exhausted from studying. The way you still cut your hair the way that celebrity you idolized when you were a teenager used to cut hers.

But so much of you had been shaped by him. His ghost always floats in the corner of your eye, just out of reach. You’ve buried him, feeding the corpse that you stuffed full of memories to the night inside your heart. A cold place. A dark one. A dead one. And still he persists, still he lingers in the shadowy reaches of your sense of self. The parts that are jagged and bleeding from how hard you’ve tried to sever them off. They say the body holds memories that the brain forgets, and if you could peel back your skin and go bleeding, raw and bloodied into the world, vile and unrecognizable, you think you would. You would forget yourself and become something entirely different; something entirely separate from him. Could you still be yourself if you replaced every single part of your soul that he had touched? At what point was the ship of Theseus no longer the Argo when every part of it had been replaced?

_____________

Suguru loved watching you when you were like this. Pretty frown on your face as you tried to block out the memories he knew were trying to break through the prison where you had confined them. Here is where you were different: he let them wash over him, relishing in the pain they caused him. He loved the way it felt to miss you. The chest-splitting feeling that made it hard to breathe and brought that lump to his throat that he sometimes hoped would suffocate him. The nausea at the feeling of some cavernous, gaping hole in his soul, somewhere where his heart would be. The anxiety that he felt, knowing he could never fill it. His torment and your pain were the thorns that decorated the crown on his head. The halo that left him scratched and bloody.

He watched as you swore, he could almost hear the whisper of your voice on the wind as you put out the half smoked cigarette and threw it out the window before slamming your fist into the frame.

There you were.

His violent girl.

Suguru had always been in awe of how easily violence came to you, and how hard you tried to hide it under your soft spoken words and tender smiles.

He remembered the first mission you had ever gone on together in your first year, teeth bared in a snarl as blood dripped out of your nose.

He remembered the moment he noticed the flash in your eyes as the corner of your lips ticked upwards into something that looked more like a smirk.

He remembered how divine you looked as blood and gore flew around you, the air seeming to crackle as you danced at the epicenter of a terrible storm of death and cursed energy. Goddess of rage and terror. Goddess of beauty, because after all, how could you know beauty without knowing terror?

And he remembered how suddenly you stopped. How your eyes softened and you asked if he was okay. How you had sounded almost bashful.

“Where have you been hiding that?”

“Don’t be stupid,”

“Why are you embarrassed? You were beautiful,”

Maybe you were destined to be a perfect paradox. Suguru walked a path of violence, forcing step after step, knowing each one made the rot inside him fester a little more. You tried to bury violence deep inside you to quell the rage that had threatened to consume you all your life, burning up your insides and begging to be let out.

Two sides of the same coin, two people with the same curse, wasn’t it Shakespeare who said these violent delights had violent ends?

Your head snapped up and Suguru felt the blood freeze in his veins as your eyes seemed to lock directly onto him.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I don’t think of you,”

“I do. I think of you every minute of every day,”

“Is that supposed to make me feel something?”

“You might not understand, but I’m doing this for you. I’m saving us, all of us,”

“Ha. And when you’re done saving everyone, and all you’re left with is whatever stares back at you from the mirror, Suguru, who will save you then?”

He remembered the torment in your eyes as the violence you spent your life concealing threatened to burst forth, he caught some of it in the harsh sound of your laugh as you spat venom at him.

He still didn’t have an answer for you. When all was said and done, and his hands were covered in blood that he could never wash off, and the decay that putrefied his insides befouled the rest of his body, and all he was left with were the words of his mother and the cold look in your eyes, what would he do then? Saviors had always suffered their torments, but he was no saint. The devil walked by his shoulder and forced his mouth open every time he consumed another curse and guided his fist every time his knuckles split against another face.

Crack.

You had closed your window and gone back inside. Suguru took a deep breath and tried to mask his disappointment with smugness. You still loved him, of that he was sure. So he would come back next year to make sure, and perhaps one day you wouldn’t slam the window closed when you sensed his cursed energy. Perhaps one day you would confront him. Perhaps one day you would finally let loose the fire of the rage that you had always used to cleanse foul things. Perhaps one day he would be worthy of being purified by it. Suguru had once dreamed of getting down on his knees and asking for a life with you. Would it not be so much sweeter to die at the feet of the only person who had seen flowers grow where he saw only rot?

A/N: concepts of this have been floating around my drafts ever since I screamed with @gothsuguru about Ethel Cain (ty for matching my freak Kairo <3) and tonight I finally had the time to finish it ! A very late happy new year to you all, my loves, I hope you’re looking after yourselves <3

[g4rvez-r3id]

Bad Day

Boyfriend! Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Synopsis: You come home from a really bad day and your boyfriend, Spencer is there to save the day… and hold you while you cry.

Category: Fluff, some Angst

Warnings: reader having the worst day of her life, crying, mentions of having bad days, kissing, spencer being the best bf ever- ig that’d be it 🤷‍♀️

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! so this is more of a blurb bc i had a bad day today soooo this was the outcome of said bad day and how spencer would be 😌 can you tell i’m projecting again? oops. oh well.

This was probably the worst day of your life. Okay, it may not have been the worst day of your life per se, but it seemed like it was in the top ten at the very moment.

Everything that could’ve happened today happened. You woke up late, causing you to be late to work, you missed the bus on top of that, the customers in the store were horrendous and rude and you’d miscounted the deposit in the store at least a hundred times, causing you to be late to your other bus. Oh, and it was raining. Today was just not a good day.

And after your ten hour shift, all you want to do is just go home and cry yourself to sleep and forget this whole day. You’d arrived back home, holding yourself back from crying until you got into your bed. But you unlocked the front door and came home to a pleasant surprise.

Your boyfriend, Spencer was in the living room, reading a book, feet rested on the couch — showing off his mismatched socks — with a small smile on his face. “Hi, angel!” He diverts his attention from the book to you, closing it as he stood up from his spot on the couch. “How was work?”

You look up at him and his face makes you sad. He’s so happy to see you, so joyful even if he has a job being one of the most important people in the world, catching serial killers. He was a hero, essentially and had seen the worst of the worst out there and still managed to put a smile on his face whenever he saw you.

Your shoulders sank and your head fell against his chest and you began to cry into his sweater. And you cried hard. To the point where you were soaking Spencer’s sweater with your tears. Spencer, being the concerned boyfriend he was frowned and rubbed your shoulders, pulling you away from him so he could see you. “Hey,” He spoke softly. “Hey, honey, what’s the matter? Come here.”

He led you over to the couch where you sat down and he kneeled in front of you. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” Spencer asks as he rubs your thigh soothingly and your eyes are shut as you cry but you can feel him staring at you, awaiting an answer because he hates seeing you in this state.

“Everything that could’ve happened happened,” You sniffle. “I’ve had such a horrible day, Spencer.”

Spencer frowns as he sits next to you on the couch and lets you lean on him as you continue to cry and cry. “It was a bad day, that’s all it was.” He says as he rubs your arm. “Shh.” He says as he holds you close.

Eventually, you’re done letting it all out and take a deep breath and you look up at Spencer. You had kept your feelings in all day today until you got home and the minute you saw Spencer, you broke. Mostly because it was easier to be vulnerable with him. He made it easy to. And you were never afraid to express it to him.

Spencer looks at you with a fond, sympathetic smile as he takes the opportunity to wipe the tears away from your cheeks. “I’m sorry.” You tell him as you looked down at his soaked sweater. “Don’t be,” He assures. “It’s normal to have bad days. Bad days are a common human experience, it happens to everyone. It often stemming from stress, poor sleep, or a series of minor inconveniences and while they can feel overwhelming, they can also be a learning opportunity to build resilience and understand yourself better.” He gives you a tight lipped smile after his little fact. And somehow, it makes you feel better about your bad day. “Do you feel any better?” He asks and you shrug with a sniffle, “A little.”

“Well, then how about you hop in the shower and I’ll get your bedroom made up since I put your sheets in the dryer —” He checks his watch. “A little under an hour ago — and I’ll order us takeout and we can have a movie night. And I’ll put on a Disney movie since those seem to cheer you up a lot. Is that okay?” Hearing him say that just makes you want to cry again. Not because you’re ungrateful but because you feel as if you don’t deserve a kind man like Spencer in your life.

Often, people told you to suck it up and get over it and grow up. But Spencer never did. He listened when you had bad days, he sat there when you vented and needed someone to listen to and vice versa. You’d felt vulnerable with him like he had with you. And at first, you weren’t like this. You never opened up to him because you were scared you’d get the same reaction — telling you to get over it, but he never did. He wouldn’t dare to.

“Please don’t cry, my love. I’m sorry.” Spencer says with a small loving smile, holding your face in his hands but you shake your head as him, “I’m not sad,” You tell him. “I’m just… emotional now because… you are seriously my dream man.” You say to him with a small smile and he chuckles at that and pats your thigh as he stands up and goes to the bathroom to get your shower ready.

After you get out of the shower, you go to your room and find Spencer has made your bed, the takeout is here and your TV is on, ready for any streaming networks.

You get into the bed and Spencer happily joins you, opting to turn on Wreck-It-Ralph since you both agreed on it and as the movie starts, you watch him with a small smile.

As he focuses his attention on the screen, you focus your attention on him. His perfect nose, the way it twitches when he’s happy. His brown-on-the-outside, gold-on-the-inside eyes, always so mesmerized in you. And the way they crinkle up when he smiles. And speaking of his smile, the most perfect you’d ever seen it. Next to his hair, which you are currently raking your hands in and brushing through with your fingers. He was so lovely, in your eyes. He was the flower petals to a beautiful rose, he was your everything. Just as you were his. What did you do to deserve him, you wonder.

“No wonder I had a bad day,” You spoke, causing him to turn his head to you and furrow his brows in confusion. “I didn’t have my lucky charm with me.” You say as you brush through his locks.

Spencer has a baffled look on his face at that sentence alone. “I’m your good luck charm, huh?” He asks, raised eyebrows and a small smile appearing across his face.

“The best good luck charm ever.” You lean close and peck his lips with your own and that’s what you’ve missed this entire time. His lips against yours and you can’t help but smile in the kiss.

Blushing like a schoolgirl, you back away from the kiss but he wants seconds. And he grabs you by the chin gently and kisses your lips one last time, so passionately and lovingly and he waits there after the fact, faces close and looking into your eyes as if you made the world stop turning.

You rest your head on his shoulder as you get impossibly close to him as you watch the movie with him and fifteen minutes later, Spencer looks over and sees that you’ve fallen asleep and he lets you rest. And he hopes that your bad day may have turned into a good one at the end of the night.

Spoiler alert: it did.

[lila-lou]

✨His second exception - Pt. 31/?✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, FLUFF

Word Count: 6981

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 31 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙

Your mom and dad had been quietly watching from across the room, but now they couldn’t resist chiming in. Your dad, leaning back in his chair with a knowing grin, was the first to speak.

“Well”, he said, his voice dripping with amusement. “Look at this. The mighty Soldier Boy, the man who could take on armies single-handedly, now sitting here feeding a little baby girl. Never thought I’d see the day”.

Ben glanced up from Aria, his green eyes narrowing slightly as his smirk turned sharp. “You got something to say, old man?”, he shot back, though his tone carried more humor than heat. “’Cause I can still take you in five seconds flat”.

Your dad raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, I’m just saying. Big change from the guy who used to storm into rooms and bark orders like he owned the place”.

You couldn’t help but join in, the warmth of the moment giving you just enough energy to speak up. “Oh, come on, Dad”, you said, your voice soft but teasing. “He still storms into rooms and barks orders. Now he just does it with a baby bottle in his hand”.

Ben turned his sharp green eyes on you, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”, he asked, his tone flat but tinged with humor. “You’re fucking ganging up on me now?”.

You grinned weakly, resting your head back against the pillows. “What can I say? You’re too easy to tease”.

Your mom, never one to miss an opportunity, chimed in. “She’s right. You’ve got that whole tough-guy act going, but look at you now. Feeding a baby with more concentration than I’ve ever seen you give anything else”.

Ben scoffed, his smirk returning as he glanced down at Aria, who had slowed her feeding, her tiny fingers brushing against his hand. “This is more important than anything else I’ve ever done”, he said simply, his voice low but firm. “Doesn’t mean I won’t put you all in your place if you keep running your mouths”.

Your dad laughed, shaking his head. “You’re outnumbered, Ben”, he said with a grin. “You might as well just take it”.

“Oh, I’m taking it”, Ben muttered, adjusting the bottle slightly as Aria squirmed in his arms. “But don’t forget, I’ve got the kid. That means I’ve got all the leverage”.

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, your tired body shaking slightly. “You’re really using our baby as leverage?”.

Ben smirked, finally glancing up at you, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Damn right I am”, he said. “And it’s working”.

Your mom shook her head, though she was smiling as she leaned back in her chair. “Unbelievable”, she muttered, though the affection in her voice was unmistakable. “You know, for all your bluster, you’re doing a pretty good job”.

Ben’s expression softened slightly as he looked back down at Aria, her tiny body cradled securely in his large hands. “Yeah, well”, he said gruffly, his voice quieter now. “Not like I’m gonna let her down”.

The teasing paused for a moment, the atmosphere shifting into something softer, more tender. You reached out weakly, your hand brushing against Ben’s arm. “You won’t”, you whispered, your voice full of quiet conviction. “You’re already her hero”.

Ben’s smirk faded as he glanced back down at Aria, his green eyes clouding with something heavier. He shifted slightly, adjusting her tiny frame in his arms, and you saw his jaw tighten for a moment before he muttered, almost too quietly, “I hope it stays that way”.

The weight of his words lingered in the air, cutting through the teasing warmth from earlier. You knew what he meant, even if he didn’t say it outright. Ben carried the shadows of his past with him, the weight of every mistake, every regret. Now, holding Aria in his arms, the stakes felt higher than anything he’d ever faced before.

“It will”, you said softly, your hand still resting on his arm. “Ben, look at her. She already adores you”.

Ben’s lips twitched, the heaviness in his eyes retreating as he quickly composed himself. “Yeah”, he muttered, his voice gruff but edged with his usual dry humor. “That’s ‘cause I feed her. Same with you. Give a woman a little attention and some snacks, and she’s all putty”.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you nudged his arm weakly. “Oh, is that how it works? All this time, you’ve been keeping me around with snacks?”.

Ben shrugged, smirking now as he glanced at you, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Don’t act like it’s not true. Toss you a bag of chips, rub your feet for five minutes, and suddenly I’m your favorite person”.

Your dad snorted from his chair, shaking his head as he leaned back. “Sounds about right”, he said with a grin, clearly enjoying the banter. “Though I wouldn’t go throwing that strategy around too much, Ben. Works on my daughter, but not everyone’s that easy”.

“Who said I’m looking for it to work on anyone else?”, Ben shot back smoothly, adjusting Aria in his arms as she began to squirm. “Got my hands full already”.

"You better”, you murmured, your voice soft but teasing as you leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his biceps. The gesture was small, but it carried all the affection you couldn’t quite put into words at the moment.

Ben raised an eyebrow, glancing down at where your lips had just been before looking back at you, his smirk widening into something more cocky. “Oh, so now we’re kissing the muscles?”, he drawled, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “Didn’t think I needed the snacks after all”.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips. “Don’t let it go to your head, tough guy. It’s a one-time deal”.

“Sure it is”, he shot back, his tone as smooth as ever. “Let me guess—next time you’ll be asking me to… flex”.

Your dad groaned loudly, leaning back in his chair. “Can you two not?”, he said, though his grin betrayed his amusement. “We’re right here, you know”.

Your mom chuckled softly, shaking her head as she moved to check on the blanket around Aria. “Oh, let them have their moment”, she said lightly, her voice full of affection. “It’s not every day you see Ben being soft”.

Ben’s smirk faded just slightly, and he glanced down at Aria, her tiny body nestled against him. His hand moved instinctively to adjust her position, his large fingers brushing against her cheek with a tenderness that seemed almost out of place for someone like him.

“Not soft”, he muttered under his breath, his tone gruff but quiet. “Just… doing what needs to be done”.

A week later, the day you’d been waiting for finally arrived—you were allowed to go home. The hospital’s walls, though safe, had started to feel suffocating, and the thought of being back in your own space brought a mix of relief and excitement. The extra doses of V in your system had done their job, leaving you feeling stronger, though you were still told to take it easy and rest as much as possible. Ben, of course, had taken that advice to heart—perhaps too much.

As you stood outside the hospital, the crisp air brushing against your face, Ben hovered close. He carried Aria’s car seat in one hand, her tiny body snug inside and wrapped in the soft blanket your mom had brought. She was dressed in the onesie Ben had insisted on—Daddy’s Little Soldier scrawled across the front in bold letters. It was equal parts adorable and hilariously on-brand for him.

With his other hand, Ben steadied you, his grip firm but not overbearing. “Take it slow”, he muttered, his green eyes scanning your face like he was waiting for you to wobble or stumble. “Last thing we need is you fucking face-planting before we even get to the car”.

You rolled your eyes, though the corners of your mouth twitched into a smile. “I’m fine, Ben. I can walk, you know”.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your attempt at downplaying things. “Sure you can”, he said dryly. “Until you can’t. Humor me, sweetheart”.

You let out a soft laugh, leaning into his steady presence as you made your way to the car. The last week had been a whirlwind of checkups, adjustments, and learning how to navigate this new chapter of your lives. Both you and Aria had appointments lined up for the coming weeks—Dr. Collins wanted to monitor you closely—but for today, all that mattered was getting home.

Ben carefully secured Aria’s car seat in the back, double-checking every strap and latch like it was a bomb he was defusing. “She’s good”, he muttered after a final tug on the seatbelt. Then he turned back to you, his hand on your back as he guided you toward the passenger seat. “Alright, your turn”.

You slid into the seat carefully, watching as he shut the door with one last glance at you, his expression unreadable. By the time he climbed into the driver’s seat, he seemed a little more relaxed, though his hand still rested protectively on the center console as if he needed to stay connected to you somehow.

The drive home was quiet, the hum of the car engine and Aria’s soft breaths filling the space. You glanced back at her occasionally, your heart swelling every time you saw her tiny face nestled in the seat. Ben caught you looking in the rearview mirror and smirked. “Told you”, he said, his tone smug. “She’s got that effect”.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, the sight of home made you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Ben got out first, unbuckling Aria with the same care he’d used earlier. He carried her in one hand, her car seat swinging slightly as he reached out to steady you with the other.

As you walked toward the door together, a warm sense of peace settled over you. It wasn’t going to be easy—between the constant monitoring, the sleepless nights, and your slow recovery, you knew challenges lay ahead. But standing there with Ben at your side, steady as always, and Aria cradled in his strong arms, you felt ready to face whatever came next.

“Welcome home, chicken”, Ben murmured as he stepped inside, glancing down at Aria with a faint smirk. Then, without missing a beat, he looked at you. “You too, sweetheart”.

Ben gently placed the car seat on the table, his movements careful yet efficient. Without missing a beat, he leaned over and unfastened the straps, muttering something under his breath about “overcomplicated baby gear”. In one swift motion, he scooped Aria up, her tiny body practically disappearing against his broad chest as he cradled her securely in his massive hands.

Her head rested just below his chin, and he instinctively adjusted the blanket around her, ensuring she was covered and snug. From where you sat, it was hard not to smile at the sight—Ben, the man who used to intimidate everyone in his path, now completely wrapped up in this impossibly tiny person.

“She’s barely visible”, you teased softly, watching him fuss over her like he’d been doing it for years. “It’s like you’re holding a little bird”.

“Yeah, well, this bird’s got some issues”, he grumbled, his tone low but tinged with affection. He shifted her slightly, trying to adjust her scrunched-up legs. “Look at these”, he muttered, his large hand carefully nudging at her tiny feet. “I keep trying to straighten them out, but no—she just folds ‘em right back up”.

You laughed softly, the sound warming the room. “She’s comfortable like that”, you said, leaning back against the cushions. “She spent months curled up inside me. It’s natural”.

Ben raised an eyebrow, glancing down at Aria’s legs as she wriggled slightly, pulling them back into that familiar scrunched-up position. “Natural, huh?”, he said, his tone laced with mock skepticism. “Looks like a lazy workout to me. She’s gonna need to start stretching eventually. Can’t walk around like this forever”.

“She’s a newborn, Ben”, you said, shaking your head with amusement. “She’s got time before she starts walking”.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t get her started early”, he shot back, his smirk widening as he carefully rocked her against his chest. “Discipline, sweetheart. Starts young”.

Aria let out a soft little coo, her tiny fists brushing against his chest, and Ben’s smirk softened instantly. His hand came up to cup her head, his thumb brushing lightly over her soft hair. “Alright, fine”, he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You can keep the legs. For now… chicken”.

Ben held Aria close, her tiny head resting snugly against his chest as he began to slowly walk through the house. His steps were steady and purposeful, like he was showing her around his kingdom. One of his large hands supported her completely, her little body barely taking up any space in his grasp.

“Alright”, he muttered, his tone gruff but oddly gentle, “let’s give you the grand tour. Don’t say I never taught you anything”.

You watched from the couch, a soft smile spreading across your face as Ben moved into the living room first. He glanced down at Aria, as though she was fully capable of understanding him, and gestured toward the room with his free hand.

“This is where your mom makes me watch her boring shows”, he said, his voice carrying that familiar mix of affection and teasing. “But don’t worry, I’ll get you into the classics. Stuff that actually matters. None of that soap opera garbage”.

He moved over to the fireplace, pointing it out with a slight nod. “And this? That’s a fireplace. Not much use for it, but it looks good. One day, I’ll teach you how to build a real fire. Just don’t try it without me, alright? Don’t need you burning the place down”.

Aria let out a tiny coo, her hands twitching against his chest, and Ben’s smirk softened slightly. “Yeah, I get it. Fire’s exciting. But it’s a dad job. Got it?”.

He moved into the kitchen next, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone as he glanced around. “Now, this is where the magic happens”, he said, shifting her slightly so she could ‘see’ the counters and appliances. “When I say magic, I mean snacks. Real snacks, not the mush you’re stuck with for now”.

Ben smirked as he shifted Aria slightly in his arms, his green eyes flicking to you lounging on the couch. “Now, your mom makes some pretty good food”, he began, his tone casual, but that mischievous glint in his eyes warned you he was about to say something completely inappropriate. “Well, at least when I’ve made sure she’s in a really good mood, you know… like after I’ve—”.

“Ben!”, you interrupted sharply, your cheeks instantly heating as you glared at him. “Not in front of Aria!”.

Ben rolled his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he adjusted Aria in his arms, her tiny form cradled carefully against his chest. “If it starts like this”, he muttered, his voice dripping with mock misery, “I’m gonna have a fucking boring life now. No making out, no sex, no dirty—”.

Before he could finish, you grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it at his back with surprising accuracy. The soft thud interrupted him mid-sentence, and he froze for a moment before slowly turning his head to look at you, one eyebrow raised.

“Really?”, he drawled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You’re resorting to violence now?”.

“You deserved it”, you shot back, trying to look stern despite the grin tugging at your lips. “You can’t just say stuff like that with her right there!”.

Ben chuckled, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to Aria. “Relax, sweetheart”, he said, his tone light and teasing. “She doesn’t even know what I’m saying. Right now, she’s just focused on staying warm and waiting for her next bottle”.

You crossed your arms, still glaring at him half-heartedly. “Still, it’s the principle of the thing. And besides, I don’t want her first words to be one of your… colorful phrases”.

Ben let out a low laugh, rocking Aria slightly in his arms as she let out a soft coo. “Fine”, he said, smirking down at her. “Guess I’ll have to keep it PG, at least for now. Don’t want the chicken getting any bad habits too early”.

You couldn’t help but smile despite yourself, watching the way he cradled her with such care, his massive hands dwarfing her tiny form. “You’re impossible, you know that?”, you muttered, though your voice was full of affection.

“And yet”, Ben replied, shooting you a cocky grin, “you still keep me around. Must be doing something right”.

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you leaned back against the cushions. Despite his teasing and his larger-than-life personality, moments like this reminded you why you loved him—because beneath all of it, he was completely devoted to you and your daughter. Even if he couldn’t resist being a smartass about it.

Ben, still smirking, adjusted Aria in his arms and stood up straighter, resuming his slow tour of the house. “Alright”, he muttered, his voice full of mock authority, “let’s get back to it. Your mom’s already trying to ruin the fun, but I’ve got plenty more to show you”.

He started toward the hallway, his large frame moving with surprising gentleness to keep Aria comfortable. “This”, he said, pointing to the hallway closet, “is where we keep all the boring stuff. Towels, blankets, random crap your mom insists we need but never actually uses. Don’t worry about this place; you’ll have no reason to come here unless you’re hiding from me because you broke something”.

You let out a laugh from the couch. “Ben, she’s a baby, not a teenager. And I don’t hoard random crap”.

He glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve got six throw blankets in there. Who needs six throw blankets? What are we, a Bed Bath & Beyond?”.

You sighed, shaking your head but smiling nonetheless as he turned back to Aria.

Ben moved into the bathroom next, gesturing grandly at the space as though it were some kind of palace. “This is the bathroom”, he said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “The one place in this house where I can pretend to get some peace. But don’t worry, I know you’re gonna ruin that soon enough with bath toys and splashing everywhere. It’s fine. I’ll allow it”.

Aria let out a tiny sound, her little fists brushing against his chest, and Ben’s smirk softened. “See? She’s already planning it”, he muttered, rocking her gently. “It’s a mutiny in the making”.

When he moved into the nursery, his pace slowed slightly, and his voice dropped to something quieter, almost reverent. “And this”, he murmured, stepping inside, “is your room”.

Ben stepped further into the nursery, his eyes scanning the soft pastels and delicate decorations you’d worked so hard to perfect. He let out a long, dramatic sigh, shifting Aria slightly against his chest as he muttered, “You’re definitely not the boy I was hoping for, so I bet soon enough everything in here’s gonna be fucking pink”.

Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her tiny head, his lips brushing over the soft, dark hair that barely covered her scalp. The touch was so light, so careful, like he was afraid to break her.

Aria reacted instantly, scrunching up her face and letting out a series of funny little noises—somewhere between a squeak and a grunt. Ben froze, his green eyes widening slightly as he looked down at her.

Then, he snorted, a rare, genuine laugh slipping out as he stared down at Aria. “What the hell was that?”, he muttered, his green eyes narrowing playfully as he adjusted her in his arms. “Did you just grunt at me, chicken? You trying to tell me something?”.

Aria squirmed again, letting out another little noise, her tiny fists flailing for a moment before settling back against his chest. Ben smirked, shaking his head in disbelief. “Unbelievable”, he muttered, his tone dripping with amusement. “Not even a month old, and already got opinions”.

From the doorway, you watched the scene unfold, a soft smile tugging at your lips. Slowly, you stepped into the room, your movements careful but deliberate as you made your way toward them. “What’s going on in here?”, you asked gently, your voice light and teasing. “Is she giving you a hard time already?”.

Ben glanced up at you, his smirk widening as he met your eyes. “You didn’t tell me she made noises like that”, he said, jerking his chin toward Aria. “She’s got this little grunt thing going on. Sounds like she’s trying to talk, but all she’s got is… whatever that was”.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you moved closer. “She’s just figuring out how to use her voice”, you said, leaning against the edge of the crib for support. “She’s probably trying to tell you she doesn’t appreciate being called a chicken”.

Ben raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning mischievous. “Oh, no, she loves it. Don’t you, chicken?”. He kissed her head again, and Aria let out another funny little grunt, making him snort. “See? That’s her way of agreeing with me”.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?”.

“Damn right I do”, Ben replied, shifting Aria slightly so she was cradled more securely in his arms. “And right now, the answer is that this kid’s already got some serious attitude. Wonder where she gets it from”.

You smirked, crossing your arms as you leaned a little closer to him. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea”, you teased. “But I don’t think it’s from me”.

Without warning, his free hand shot out, giving your ass a quick, playful pinch.

“Hey!”, you yelped, jumping slightly, though the corners of your mouth twitched with amusement.

He raised an eyebrow, his green eyes glinting with mischief as he muttered, “Why aren’t you all cozy on the couch, like the doc told you?”.

You rolled your eyes, swatting at his hand half-heartedly. “Because I wanted to see what you were up to”, you shot back, though your voice was softened by the affection you couldn’t quite hide. “Someone’s gotta make sure you’re not teaching her bad habits already”.

Ben snorted, glancing down at Aria as she let out another tiny grunt, her little face scrunching up. “Bad habits?”, he repeated, his tone dripping with mock offense. “This kid’s got nothing but good habits so far. She eats, sleeps, and grunts. Perfect little soldier in the making”.

You shook your head, leaning against the edge of the crib for support. “She’s a baby, not a recruit”.

“She can be both”, Ben quipped, his smirk turning cocky. “Gotta start her early. Discipline, structure, and—”. He paused as Aria squirmed in his arms again, making another funny noise. “And apparently, opinions. You’ve got a lot to say, huh, chicken?”.

You smiled, watching the way he cradled her so effortlessly despite his teasing demeanor. “You know”, you said softly, “you’re a lot better at this than you give yourself credit for”.

Ben glanced at you, his expression softening for a moment before he shrugged. “Yeah, well”, he muttered, “you’re not making it easy to slack off. Always watching me like a hawk”.

“That’s my job”, you teased, reaching out to brush your fingers lightly against Aria’s tiny hand. “Just like it’s your job to make sure I actually rest”.

Ben smirked again, stepping closer and tilting his head slightly. “Then get your ass back to the couch”, he said, his voice low but full of amusement. “I’m not carrying both of you if you pass out”.

“Bossy”, you muttered, but you turned to head back to the couch, a small smile still tugging at your lips as you felt his gaze follow you the whole way.

As the evening settled in, the moment arrived for Aria’s first bath. You sat on the small bench next to the bathtub, watching as Ben crouched by the tub, his large hands fumbling with the tiny buttons and snaps of Aria’s onesie. The bathroom was warm—too warm, thanks to the extra steam from the hot water—and you noticed beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead as he worked.

Aria, of course, wasn’t making it easy. Her scrunched-up legs were once again causing problems, folding up tightly every time Ben tried to stretch them out to get her undressed. He huffed under his breath, his green eyes narrowing as though trying to out-stubborn her.

“Come on, chicken”, he muttered, his voice low but strained. “You’re not making this easy. What’s with the damn legs? Just… cooperate for once”.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your smile growing as you watched him struggle. “I didn’t know supes could sweat like this”, you teased, leaning forward slightly to get a better view of his efforts. “You okay there, tough guy? Need me to grab you a towel?”.

Ben shot you a glare, though it was more playful than threatening. “It’s hot as hell in here”, he grumbled, finally managing to undo the last snap. “And this kid’s got more fight in her than half the cocksucker I’ve gone up against”.

You bit back a laugh, watching as he carefully peeled the onesie off of Aria, her tiny body wriggling slightly as she let out a soft coo. “She’s just testing you”, you said, leaning back against the wall. “Making sure her dad can handle the tough stuff”.

Ben snorted, tossing the tiny onesie into the laundry pile before cradling Aria in his hands. “Tough stuff”, he muttered, glancing at her scrunched-up legs as though they were mocking him.

Aria let out a tiny squeak, her fists flailing slightly, and you couldn’t hold back your laughter this time. “You’re doing fine”, you said reassuringly.

Ben carefully lowered Aria into the warm water, his hands cradling her tiny body with surprising gentleness. The moment her skin touched the water, she let out a soft coo, her little fists waving in the air as though testing this new sensation.

But almost immediately, Ben let out a frustrated grumble, his brows furrowing. “Why the hell is she so slippery?”, he muttered, trying to keep a steady grip on her. “It’s like trying to hold onto a bar of soap”.

You bit back a laugh, watching as his large hands adjusted awkwardly to keep Aria secure. “She’s got soft skin. Add water, and yeah, she’s going to be slippery”, you said, your voice full of amusement

Ben narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not appreciating the humor in the situation. “No one warned me about this”, he grumbled, his tone edged with irritation. “They just said, ‘Oh, give her a bath, it’ll be fine’. Didn’t say a damn word about her turning into a little greased-up chicken”.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing, the sound filling the warm bathroom as you watched him struggle. “Greased-up chicken?”, you echoed, wiping a tear from your eye. “Ben, you’ve fought villains, survived explosions, and dealt with God knows what else. And now you’re losing to a baby in a bathtub?”.

Ben’s green eyes snapped to yours, his glare sharp but tinged with amusement. “I’m not losing”, he shot back, though his hands shifted again as Aria squirmed slightly in the water. “I’m just… figuring it out. She’s squirmier than I expected”.

Aria let out a tiny hiccup of a sound, her legs kicking slightly against the water, splashing a bit onto Ben’s shirt. He groaned, glaring down at her. “See? Slippery and messy”, he muttered. “You’re a lot of work for someone who doesn’t even pay rent”.

“She’s your daughter”, you teased, still grinning. “You signed up for this”.

Ben sighed dramatically, one hand gently supporting Aria’s back while the other carefully poured a little water over her head with a washcloth. “Yeah, yeah”, he muttered, his tone softening as he focused on her again. “Guess I did”.

You watched as his expression shifted, the irritation melting away as he gently wiped her tiny face with the cloth, his large hands so careful it was almost mesmerizing. Despite all his grumbling, there was a tenderness in the way he handled her—a rare side of Ben that you knew was reserved for the two of you.

Eventually, the chaos of the evening began to wind down. Aria, freshly bathed and swaddled in her soft blanket, had finally drifted off to sleep. You and Ben made your way to the couch, exhaustion tugging at both of you. Ben collapsed onto the cushions with a heavy sigh, his arm slung over the back of the couch as though he’d just fought a battle—which, in a way, he had.

You nestled beside him, your body fitting perfectly into his side as his arm instinctively wrapped around your shoulders. Aria rested on your chest, her tiny body curled up and her soft breaths barely audible. She looked utterly peaceful, completely unaware of the exhaustion she’d inflicted on both of you.

Ben tilted his head back against the couch, letting out a long exhale as his eyes closed for a moment. “That kid’s got more energy than I thought was possible for something that tiny”, he muttered, his voice low and gravelly.

You chuckled softly, leaning into him as your fingers brushed over Aria’s blanket. “She wore you out, didn’t she?”, you teased, glancing up at him with a small smile. “Mighty Soldier Boy, taken down by a four-pound baby”.

Ben let out a low, tired chuckle, his lips twitching into a faint smirk even as his eyes remained closed. “I’m so tired I won’t even fight you on that right now”, he muttered, his voice gruff but tinged with affection. He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You win. Congratulations”.

You smiled, your heart swelling at the rare moment of vulnerability he allowed himself. Leaning into him, you let out a soft sigh, your voice dropping to a near whisper. “Thank you”.

His eyes cracked open, and he glanced down at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “For what?”, he asked, his tone curious but still laced with exhaustion.

“For everything”, you said simply, your fingers brushing over Aria’s tiny hand where it peeked out from the blanket. “For being here. For taking care of us. For… being you”.

Ben didn’t respond immediately, his green eyes studying your face like he was trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he shook his head slightly, his smirk returning, though it was softer this time. “Don’t get all fucking sappy on me now”, he muttered, though his hand tightened slightly around your shoulder, pulling you closer.

You ignored his teasing, your gaze steady as you whispered, “I love you, Ben”.

For a moment, he just looked at you, his expression unreadable. Then, his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “Yeah”, he said softly, his voice unusually gentle. “I love you too”.

The words, so simple but so weighty coming from him, settled between you like an anchor, grounding you in the moment. You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing as Aria shifted slightly in her sleep, a soft sigh escaping her tiny lips.

As the quiet of the evening wrapped around you, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t experienced in months. Despite the chaos, the exhaustion, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead, you knew one thing for sure: you were exactly where you were meant to be—with Ben and Aria, tangled together on the couch, your little family whole and complete.

Another week passed, and with it came the small victories that felt monumental after everything you’d been through. At just two weeks old, Aria was thriving, and you were finally starting to feel like yourself again—though not entirely. You were allowed to take on little tasks now, like showering by yourself and even changing Aria’s diaper, but Ben kept a close watch, ensuring you didn’t overdo it.

It was barely three in the morning when Aria’s cries echoed through the bedroom, pulling you from a light, restless sleep. Her wails were sharp and insistent, the unmistakable demand of a newborn needing something now.

You stirred, your body still heavy with exhaustion but far stronger than it had been days ago. Instinctively, you moved to sit up, but before you could even swing your legs over the side of the bed, Ben was already on his feet.

“I’ve got it”, he muttered, his voice rough with sleep as he rubbed a hand over his face. His green eyes were bleary, but his movements were steady as he crossed the room to the bassinet where Aria lay squirming and crying.

“Ben, I can—”, you began, but he shot you a look over his shoulder, one eyebrow arched in a way that silenced you instantly.

“Don’t start”, he said gruffly, leaning down to scoop Aria up with practiced ease. “You’re still on light duty. Stay fucking put”.

You sighed, sinking back against the pillows as you watched him cradle Aria against his chest. She was still crying, her tiny fists flailing as Ben swayed slightly, his large hand patting her back in a rhythm that was becoming second nature to him.

“Alright, chicken”, he murmured, his voice softer now as he paced slowly across the room. “What’s the deal this time? Hungry? Wet? Or just in the mood to torture me?”.

Despite your exhaustion, you smiled at the sight of him—shirtless, his hair mussed from sleep, and his expression caught somewhere between annoyance and adoration as he comforted your daughter. It was a side of him you never thought you’d see, and it made your heart swell every time.

“She probably needs a diaper change”, you said softly, your voice breaking the quiet hum of the moment.

Ben let out a low sigh, glancing down at the squirming bundle in his arms. “Of course she does”, he muttered. “Kid’s got perfect timing”.

He carried Aria over to the changing table, his movements surprisingly fluid for someone who looked like he’d barely slept in days. You couldn’t help but watch as he carefully laid her down, his large hands working with more patience than you’d ever seen from him.

“She’s lucky I’m a quick learner”, he grumbled, unfastening her tiny onesie with deft fingers. “I could’ve left all this to you, you know. But no, I’m here, in the trenches, dealing with the fucking chaos”.

“You love it”, you teased, your smile widening as you rested your head against the headboard.

Ben glanced at you, his smirk returning briefly before he turned back to Aria. “Yeah", he muttered under his breath, his voice so low you almost didn’t hear it. “Maybe I do”.

As he worked, Aria’s cries began to fade, replaced by soft little hiccups and whimpers. By the time he’d finished changing her, she was calm, her wide eyes blinking up at him as though she was sizing him up.

Ben picked her up again, cradling her against his chest as he walked back toward the bed. “There”, he said, his voice a mix of satisfaction and weariness. “Crisis averted. For now”.

You held out your arms, silently asking to hold her, and Ben hesitated for a moment before carefully placing her in your lap. “You sure you’re good?”, he asked, his tone serious despite the softness in his eyes.

You nodded, cradling Aria close as you brushed a kiss against her tiny forehead. “I’m good”, you said softly.

Ben had barely let his eyes close, his body finally relaxing into the bed, when the sound of Aria sucking on her pacifier like her life depended on it filled the room. The soft, rhythmic noise was unmistakable and persistent, her tiny mouth working furiously as though trying to send a very clear signal.

His eyes opened slowly, a low groan escaping him as he turned his head toward you and Aria. “She’s at it again”, he muttered, his voice thick with exhaustion. “What’s the deal this time?”.

You shifted slightly in bed, cradling Aria closer as you glanced down at her. Even in the dim light, you could see her little fists clenching, her face scrunching up as she worked the pacifier. “She’s hungry”, you murmured, already knowing the routine. “It’s time”.

Ben’s brow furrowed, but he sat up a little, glancing at you. “You sure you’re good for this? You just started back up yesterday. I can grab a bottle if you need me to”.

You smiled softly, touched by his concern, even as your body still felt the pull of exhaustion. “I’m okay”, you said quietly. “The doctor said nights are the best time for this. Less moving around for me”.

Ben still looked unconvinced, his green eyes scanning your face for any sign of strain. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “Fine”, he said gruffly, though his tone carried a thread of warmth.

You carefully adjusted yourself, pulling down your bra with practiced movements, and gently guided Aria toward you. The instant she latched on, her tiny body relaxed, and the urgent sucking noises filled the quiet room. You exhaled softly, the familiar but still slightly uncomfortable sensation making you wince for just a moment.

Ben, sitting up beside you, watched the scene with a lazy smirk spreading across his face. His green eyes glinted in the dim light, and you knew exactly what was coming before he even opened his mouth.

“Well”, he drawled, leaning back against the headboard with a smug expression, “if I’d known that’s how it works, I would’ve cried louder”.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress the small laugh that bubbled out of you. “Ben”, you said, your tone half-scolding but mostly amused. “Really?”.

“What?”, he said, feigning innocence as his smirk widened. “I’m just saying, if I make the same noises, maybe I get the same treatment”.

"Oh shut up”, you grumbled, shooting Ben a halfhearted glare as you tried to focus on Aria. The smirk on his face only widened, and he let out a low snort of amusement.

“Touchy”, he muttered, his tone still dripping with teasing. “Guess that means no tits for me”.

Before you could retort, a sharp, unexpected pain made you gasp softly. Aria, without teeth but somehow managing to pinch your nipple with surprising force, had bitten down. “Ow, ow, ow”, you whined, shifting slightly to try to adjust her latch. “Aria, no, no biting”.

Ben’s eyebrows shot up, and his smirk morphed into something closer to a grin as he leaned closer. “She bit you?”, he asked, his voice tinged with both surprise and amusement. “Already? Kid’s got a mean streak, huh?”.

You glared at him through the pain, wincing as you carefully pulled Aria off for a moment to reposition her. “It’s not funny, Ben”, you grumbled, though your flushed cheeks betrayed a touch of embarrassment.

“Oh, it’s a little funny”, he countered, leaning his head back against the headboard as he watched you.

As soon as you pulled Aria off to adjust her, her tiny face scrunched up, and within seconds, a loud wail echoed through the room. Her little fists flailed in protest, and her cries escalated as if she were starving and the world was ending simultaneously.

“Great”, you muttered, sighing as you tried to calm her down.

Ben chuckled, clearly amused by the dramatic display. “She’s got your attitude”, he said, smirking. “No patience, immediate outrage when she doesn’t get what she wants. Yeah, definitely takes after you”.

———————————

A/N: We're getting closer to saying goodbye... Please let me know what you think. 🥰

-

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[crimsonnsstuff]

can you do a dom in ho who uses his female guard? no specifics have fun with it!

You change out of your black bodysuit. You work as a guard at the games. Usually, you just shoot the people that loose, but now that the vips are here, you have to serve them, which also means you have to wear a slutty outfit for their entertainment.

The outfit was a black body suit, fishnets, and combat boots. Out of the games, you usually just wore sweatpants and hoodies, so you were a bit uncomfortable in it, but money is money.

In-ho was kind enough to give you access to the bathroom to change out of the outfit and back into your guard outfit. You stand in front of the mirror, taking in the sight of your body in the bodysuit.

You sigh, reaching around to unzip the back. You slide it down your body, sighing that your stomach, tits, and ass could finally breathe. You take off your fishnets, leaving the black boots on.

You look at your body in the mirror, only wearing a black lacy bra and black lacy underwear. You turn the sink on. You lean down, splashing some water on your face. You turn the water off. You turn around and grab a towel, gently patting your face dry.

Suddenly, you hear the door open. You gasp softly and turn to the door, seeing In-ho. He was out of his mask and outfit. He was wearing a casual black button up with black dress pants.

You realize you were still not clothed. He raises an eyebrow at you, eyes looking you up and down. His eyes pause on the boots you were still wearing.

“Let me help you with that” he says gently. You hesitate, but you know better not to listen to him. You always found him kinda attractive. You sit down on the side of the bath, lifting a foot up.

He roughly but some how affectionately zipped down the zipper on the side of your boot, pulling it off and setting it aside. You stare down at him. He looked like he was expecting something.

“Oh!” You gasp, lifting the other foot up, allowing him to unzip it and take it off. You almost forget you are basically naked, due to him not even making notice of it. “You seem quite…distracted.” He mumbles “yeah, well most people don’t take my shoes off for me while I’m basically naked” you snort.

His face stays neutral, and you stop laughing. You look down, fidgeting with your hands in your lap. He stands up, towering over you. He grips your chin and forces you to look at him. He stared at you for a bit, making intense eye contact.

He places a single hand on your thigh, making you flinch. His eyes narrow. He gets closer. “Put your uniform back on.” He says casually, pulling back after a few more seconds of looking into your eyes, removing his hand from your thighs.

“Seriously!?” You accidentally let out as he walks towards the door. “You’re just gonna leave me here!? You just touched my thigh for Christ sakes!” He looks over his shoulder, avoiding eye contact, before turning you face you fully,

The moment he walks closer to you, you squeeze your thighs together and he quickly notices. He scoffs, “wow, so you’re a slut?” He mumbles. Your eyes narrow. You stand up. “You’ve been teasing me all week! Touching my shoulder, ‘casually’ putting your hand around my waist! What do you want from me!-“

He cuts you off, grabbing your throat and pinning you to the wall. “I want you to shut the fuck up.” He growls. You nod gently. You try to get out of his grip to go put your uniform back on like he said. He stops you. “Hell no. We are finishing what you started.”

“But you are the one who-“ he cuts you off with a rough, bruising kiss. You whine into his mouth. He moves his hand from your neck, to down your chest, to the back of your bra, unclipping it and causing it to fall down.

He pulls back, looking at your tits. “So pretty..” he mumbles, leaning down and latching his mouth around your nipple, kneading your other tit in his hand so hard it would probably bruise.

You wanted to stop him, but sadly, he was way bigger and stronger than you. His hand moves down to grip your hip and he pulls his mouth off your nipple with a wet pop.

He puts his other hand on your hips, guiding you over to the sink. He spins you around, bending you over it. He kicks your legs apart, making you whine.

He smirks as he wraps his fingers around the waistband of your panties. You wiggle your hips, making him laugh. “D-don’t laugh at me-“ you blurt out. He chuckles deeply, a sound that send a shiver down your spine. “It’s kinda hard not to. You’re being so desperate.”

He pulls them down, and you step out of them. He spins them around on his finger a couple times before setting them aside.

He pulls his pants down, just enough for him to pull his cock out. He runs his tip up and down your folds, then taps his tip against your clit, making you arch your back. He laughs as he slaps your ass, making you flinch.

Out of no where, he slams into you, making you yelp. He bottoms out inside of you, grinding his hips. You squeal, squeezing your eyes shut.

He realizes that you’re gonna be loud. He reaches over, grabbing your panties and balling them up to put in your mouth. You groan around them. He grabs your hair, pulling your head back and forcing you to look in the mirror as he grinds into you.

“Look at that..” he coos. He starts to thrust roughly, causing your eyes to shut. He slaps your ass, warning you to not look away from yourself in the mirror. Your eyes shoot open.

“Say thank you.” He groans. You mumble something incoherent around your panties, making him smirk. “Oh, what was that?” He mocks. “I said say that you.”

He speeds his thrusts up even more, making you moan around your panties. You reach back, trying to slap his hands off your hips. “Brat.” He groans, catching your arms and holding them, fucking into you sloppily.

Slobber drips out around your panties and down your chin, making you whine. “So messy..” he grunts as he beats your pussy up.

He throws his head back, grunting as he pounds harder into you. Your eyes tear up with tears at his hard thrusting, making you fall forward slightly. He grips your hips, holding you up.

“Gonna cum deep in this little cunt..” he groans, holding you in place as he cums in you. You whimper around your panties, cumming on his cock shortly after. He pulls out and backs away completely, making you fell to the floor.

He pulls your panties out of your mouth. He puts them in his pocket. “Gonna save those for later.” He smirks, looking down at your used body. “C’mon, get dressed into your uniform and get back to your room.”

[haechanhues]

chapter twenty five : thunder and storm clouds

*written*

word count : 1.6k

warnings : smut (MDNI). The mood changes up quite a bit. Sorry this took awhile to get through but I finished finally. We’re at the halfway point now, guys! not proofread.

He’s thunder and storm clouds, making himself comfortable in your apartment. You can’t say the same because you find yourself up against the wall with his hand on your throat, anger dripping from his eyes. 

You grimace a little, the sensitivity of old love bites burning at healing skin and a smirk twitches at the corner of his lips as he regards you and the hickies he left behind, “Deja vu, huh?” 

You scowl and you feel so pathetically inadequate when all it takes to dissolve the severity of it is the kiss he gives you. He slots his mouth over yours, a soft contrast to the hand squeezing at your throat, and when he adds tongue you’re confused as what exactly has turned your vision into stars. 

You moan into his mouth, and he exhales a sharp breath standing closer to hear it again. It sounds so much better to him when your moans are just for him to hear. Or if the men that want you are there to see who’s making you moan so much. 

He nips at your lips, almost as if he can see them swell a little to pull back from your lips, and when he slots his knee in between your legs there’s no push back. Brushing the slightest bit at the apex, he grins manically, his hair curling over his eyes. 

“You’re so messy.” 

“Fuc-” 

“Shut up, don’t talk,” He hisses, his hand slapping over your mouth, “I don’t want to hear a word from you.” 

Despite the makeshift muffler of your lips, you’re too curious not to ask, “Why?” 

He’s unimpressed, and it shows in his body language. He pauses, the dark expression taking new terror on his kissed stupid features and his hands painting pictures across your collarbone and chest, “Because the last time you did, you pissed me off.” 

You swallow and he enjoys it, the realisation in your eyes, his fingers swiping letters you can’t make sense of, every word he writes unintelligible, “I’m not going to let you just forget it, Y/N. You’re not a Princess here, I’m afraid.” 

At the last word, his hands slide down to the thick of your waist, bunching it in his grip before he spins you both around so that his back is flat against the wall and you’re leaning over him. 

You stare at him, questions running amok in your head. 

With a smack of his lips, his fingers claw in your hair, deep rooted pleasure slow as he grips at your hair, “You thinking of him, right now?” 

You shake your head. With his thumb, he forces his way in between your swollen full lips until he finds the base of your tongue, the suction of it all tempting him to have his way with you. 

“Think of him if you want, baby,” He shrugs, pulling his pants down and prying himself free, “It’s your last chance to anyways.” 

With an almost gentle brush of your lips with the pad of his thumb, you’re away with the fairies replaying the moment over and over again in your head. 

“Open,” He commands softly to which you obey him with only a moment's hesitation, and he slowly watches as his cock is swallowed by your throat. His head tips back of the feeling of your mouth, your tongue and your lips working together, sucking and sucking. 

He doesn’t even realise he’s thrusting into your mouth until you start to gag around him, tears welling in your eyes. He’s about to allow you an intake of breath, only to be falter at the feeling of you swallowing, he shakes and his grip tightens within the strands of your hair. 

“Mmm,” He growls appreciatively, clenching his palm into a fist and eyes flickering as he struggles to find a place to put his hands, letting a whine pass his lips as you suck harder, attempting to draw out the subby whines you want to hear. 

“W-wait,” His breath hitches at your pace, “I’m seriously going to come down your throat if you’re not careful.” 

But when you refuse to budge, he can’t say he finds it anything to complain about. But he has to. 

He moans again, “Don’t you want me to fuck you? If you keep going like this, I won’t be able to.” 

You pull away from his cock with a pop and it takes every bone in his body not to shove himself down your throat again. You race upwards, taking his lips for yours. Letting him taste himself on your lips. Loving the way he loses it because of you, stealing his moment of composure in order to see him like this. 

He’s a shadow of the dom he was portraying before, weak at the hands of you. And with his guard down, he doesn’t think twice before his hand cups your face. 

He kisses at his own pace, the sounds between you both heavy as you lead him into the bedroom. He sits on the bed, impatient as you straddle him and longing as you plant wet kisses on his neck. He finds himself tipping back as you climb higher up his torso, your hips at his chest, the feeling of him beneath you making your clit throb. 

You want him so fucking badly. 

“Fours?” You murmur, voice barely a whisper. You’ve got ideas and you so desperately want to use them during his favourite position to drive him nuts. 

His eyes are lost, vision blurry as he shakes his head, “No.” 

No? 

He flips you over, leg hitching over his hips as he drags himself forward. Letting you feel just how hard he is. How much he wants you. Right where you want him. 

“Oh-” 

He steals your moans with another hurried kiss, hands moving busy as he undresses himself. Shirt first. Then pants. His erection hitting his stomach. He’s been getting thicker, his body gradually getting stronger and you can’t say you don’t appreciate it. Normally, however, he’d take notice and make a comment that irritated you well into the next day. 

But he doesn’t give you any sort of normalcy. 

Instead, he cups your face with both hands, gentle as he kisses you again. Softly this time. Sweeter. He’s slow about it, taking his time. It feels addictive. How good it is. You return his kiss with his mirror image. Soft. Sweet. Addicting. 

You don’t know how long you kiss for. 

You just know that when he stops, you’re removing your own clothes slowly, watching as his eyes gaze across your body appreciatively. Normally, you’d give him your own comment, but for some reason you don’t. 

You just watch his admiration. 

Your breasts. Your skin. Everything feels perfect to him. He leans forward as you go to unbuckle your jeans, the swell of your breasts in his mouth so delicious your hands drop from their work to enjoy the moment for a second. 

He kisses down your stomach and then returns to your mouth, hoping you’d taste how good you taste. Your hands naturally jerk back to the zip of your jeans and you smile into the kiss as you knock hands with him as he pulls expertly at the buttons of your jeans. The satisfying click of freedom, all the incentive to peel your jeans and underwear off your legs. 

You can almost hear him without even hearing him say it. 

Jeans, really? 

And you would quip back, because that’s how your relationship was. But he doesn’t say anything. 

Instead, he kisses your cheek gently, his palm finding the meat of your thigh as he angles your leg around his torso. He can feel how wet you are, and with a quick dip of his fingers into your heat, he knows how desperate you are too. 

His digits dragging deliciously across your walls, you whimper at the loss of his fingers. He hushes you, “I’m almost there, baby.” 

He taps the tip of his cock against your clit, watching the way your pussy clenches at the sensation, all before he sinks into you letting out a groan of his own as he feels you squeeze him within your walls. 

“Oh f-fuck,” You mewl, nails breaking through his skin and he isn’t even moving yet. 

He kisses you again and it’s all so hazy. You two have kissed a couple times now, but it’s still rather new to kiss like this during sex. It makes your head turn with how emotional it feels when paired with the slow thrust of his hips. 

You clench tighter on his dick, enjoying the way he loses it and thrusts hurriedly into you. You wish there was an archive in your brain that let you play out his sounds at every period of the day. 

But you’ll just have to fuck him like this again and again. 

As he loses it on top of you, his head tilting and eyes squinting as he lets himself go. The muscles in body tensed all the way to the tips of his fingers. He almost cries at the feeling of your soft kisses, a contrast to the severe intensity of the pleasure he feels because of your pussy. 

He tips his head back feeling your kisses on his throat. His chin. He turns his head and you still kiss at the apples of his cheeks and the curve of his jaw. His collarbone. His chest. 

He comes, you don’t. But you don’t care. His come spilling from your pussy.  You don’t care, because the guy in front of you is a vision you can’t bring yourself to be mad at. He’s red in the face, sweat dripping from his forehead, heaving chest. 

You give him a minute, a smile growing on your face. He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing softly against the skin and you feel your whole body flutter. 

All before he murmurs something unintelligible and your whole body locks, frozen still. You can’t even pretend anymore. Not after that. 

AND NOW, US

your best friend's best friend offers his services as you keep complaining about your lack of… sexual gratification.

chapter twenty five: thunder and storm clouds

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[yanderecrazysie]

Humiliate Part 3 (Yandere Kuroo)

Thank you so much for the commission! I really hope you enjoy! 

Title: Humiliate (Part 3)

Pairings: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, NSFW, NON-CON

Part 1: here

humiliate

/verb/

make (someone) feel ashamed and foolish by injuring their dignity and self-respect, especially publicly:

Kuroo slowly untied you from your chair, a gentle smile on his face. You flexed your wrists as soon as they were released, trying not to show how eager you were to be released for the day.

You started to stand up, but your captor pushed you back down. “What do we say?”

“Thank you…” you murmured, hating the way you bowed to his will just for a few hours of freedom. 

Kuroo chuckled and ruffled your hair. You felt like an obedient pet. “Good girl. See? You’re learning.”

You swallowed back an outburst, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. Fighting would get you right back in the chair, you had learned that the hard way.

His fingers trailed along your jawline, “I hate letting you walk around, you know. It’s risky,” he sighed dramatically, “But I’m not an unreasonable man. I know you need to stretch your legs.”

You ignored him and merely squeezed past him, heading for your living room. It was sad how unfamiliar your home had become. The little knick knacks and decorations seemed out of place- too happy for a prison.

Your gaze fell on the door and you bit back a sigh. If only Kuroo’s allowance extended to the outside world. When was the last time you’d seen another human being in person? Or felt the fresh air on your skin?

“Careful now, sweetheart,” Kuroo snickered, “Or I may just think you’re being ungrateful.”

“Sorry…” you said automatically.

Kuroo watched you carefully as you took a seat on the couch and began flipping through the channels. You picked the food network channel and laid down on the couch, your head resting on the arm rest like a pillow.

This was the only time you could sleep, since the chair was so uncomfortable. Sure, you were plagued by nightmares, but sleep was sleep.

“Tired already?” Kuroo asked, “I just let you go, kitten.”

You ignored him, eyes on the screen even as your eyelids began to flutter. The chef on TV was explaining a recipe, his voice soothing and drowning out Kuroo’s presence.

Kuroo kneeled by the side of the couch, fingers brushing over your cheek. You flinched, but he was as gentle as ever, like you were a porcelain doll. “You look so cute like this, almost makes me forget you’re so stubborn.”

You closed your eyes, trying desperately to ignore him.

“Why don’t you sleep in our bed tonight?” he offered, “It’s much more comfortable.”

Our bed? You gritted your teeth. He really had made himself at home in your own house. It was downright insulting.

“I’m fine,” you turned your gaze back to the TV, pretending you were engrossed in the cooking show.

Kuroo sighed again, “Suit yourself.” His fingers slipped away and he stood back up. You could hear him heading into the kitchen and the hustle and bustle of him putting together a meal for you when you woke.

Your eyelids, though heavy, refused to completely close. Instead, you found your gaze locked on the front door. 

You sat up, hypnotized by the idea of a possible escape. You got to your feet, creeping towards the door in slow motion. 

Then, overwhelmed by the possibilities, you broke out into a run. You knew your feet were slamming against the floor noisily, but you were desperate to get out. Your hands seized the doorknob and pulled. 

Locked. You quickly moved to unlock the door.

Too late.

Kuroo slammed your body against the door, ignoring your scream of frustration as he pinned you to the wood. You let out an awful sound, a wail that had never come out of your mouth before. 

You were so disappointed- it had been so close. You had been so close. And now? Now, you were back to square one.

Kuroo’s body suddenly felt too hot against yours and you became acutely aware of a hardness pressing against your lower back. He rolled his hips into yours experimentally.

“Aw, kitten, looks like you’ve gotten me all riled up.”

Tears rolled down your face and your breath caught in your throat. “No, no, no, no, no…”

“That’s the most you’ve spoken to me in months,” Kuroo sighed, hooking his fingers into your pants’ waistband. Slowly, slowly, he slid them down.

You struggled against his grip, but your movements only served to grind against his hard-on, making it harder by the minute. Kuroo finally pulled you away from the door, walked over to the couch, and threw you down on it.

Kuroo pulled his shirt off, revealing his muscular torso to you. You looked away in embarrassment, then let out a screech as he forcibly pulled your shirt off too. 

You closed your eyes, trying to drown out what was happening to you. You cringed when you heard the awful sound of a belt buckle clinking as he undressed the rest of himself fully.

He didn’t bother to unbuckle your bra, merely grabbing each side and pulling downwards until your breasts popped out with a single, rough bounce. You twisted around onto your belly to hide your nudity, but he was pulling your panties to the side and lifted your ass into the air before you knew it.

His member radiated heat as it prodded against your unguarded entrance. You whimpered as it began to push inside you.

“Please! Kuroo stop!” you begged.

“There’s no way I’m stopping now,” Kuroo growled, voice husky with lust, “Not when you’re dripping for me.”

Embarrassingly, you realized he was correct. Your pussy was drooling for his cock, despite your terror. Even so, his dick was so girthy that the stretch of it entering you was extremely painful.

He forced inch after inch inside of you while you wailed like a banshee. Finally, he bottomed out, tip pressing against your cervix. He gave you barely a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. 

It wasn’t the fast and rough thrusts you were expecting, but slow and deliberate. Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock as it slid in and out of you and, before long, your body fully adjusted to the intrusion.

As Kuroo picked up the pace, you laid still on the couch, forcing yourself not to push back against his hips in time to his thrusts. It felt so good, but it was so, so wrong.

Suddenly, Kuroo pulled out of you. Before you could celebrate or protest, he flipped you onto your back and spread your legs, eyes dark with lust.

“You’re mine,” he growled, “All fucking mine.”

With that, he plunged back into you and you let out a scream of surprise and pleasure as his cock slammed into your g-spot and sent you over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure made your body convulse with the force of your orgasm.

Kuroo didn’t stop or even slow down. He continued to pound into you until you were seeing stars. You were building up to another orgasm already, still panting and dizzy from the previous one. As if reading your mind, Kuroo reached around and rubbed your clit. The stimulation was too much and you came hard on his cock.

He followed quickly after, his cock twitching as ropes of white cum filled you to the brim. Tears slipped down your cheeks again, the shame and guilt hitting you all at once.

One thing was for sure. You’d never be able to sleep on your couch ever again.

[steddieas-shegoes]

if you fall, i will catch you

for @steddielovemonth day 2 using Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper

rated t | 855 words | no cw | tags: high school, prom, slow dance, flirting, open ending but assumed getting together

🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩🕺💃🪩💃🕺🪩

Prom is stupid.

Steve didn’t even want to come. He didn’t have a date and nothing is more embarrassing than showing up to prom alone. Even the nerds come as a group, dancing and laughing together.

His mom made an appointment for his suit fitting and he couldn’t really explain to her that there was no need. She still thinks he and Nancy are on track to be married when Nancy graduates high school. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he’ll probably die alone.

Okay, that’s a little dramatic. He’s probably not gonna die alone.

But he may die unhappy, and that’s worse.

Most of the music hasn’t been terrible so far, at least. Only one slow song played and no one seemed interested in dancing to it.

Steve’s a fucking wallflower at his own prom. He never saw this coming.

He figures he could probably escape within the next few songs, no one would even notice his absence. He makes a mental plan to wait until one of the parent chaperones walks back to the other side of the room.

Then he’s off.

He manages to escape to the hall behind the gym, the one that leads to the auditorium and drama class, not the main building of the school. No one should be back here. It’s the perfect escape route.

“Never thought I’d see the day when King Steve is trying to escape prom,” a voice says from the end of the hall. The music from the gym is echoing in here, but the voice is much louder. It’s familiar, too. “Miss Wheeler too busy with Byers to dance?”

It’s Munson. Steve sighs.

“Why are you even here?”

“It’s my senior prom, too! Or should those of us not graduating not be allowed?” Eddie walks closer and Steve sees that he’s actually dressed up. It’s not a designer suit like he’s been forced into, but it’s nice. Eddie looks…nice.

“Wait,” Steve registers what he actually said. “Not graduating?”

“Yep. Apparently quadratic formulas are crucial to my development and I cannot enter society until I understand them.” Eddie kicks his foot across the tile, leaving a scuff mark from shoes that have probably been waxed beyond necessity. “And I guess dissecting a frog and turning in homework may have helped.”

“But aren’t you pretty smart?” Steve thought he was one of those dungeon dweebs like Dustin. Dustin’s the smartest person he knows, without a doubt, kid or not. He thought all the nerds who play that game were like that.

“Sure, I’m smart enough,” Eddie scoffs. “But I don’t play by their rules. I forget to do homework. I argue.”

“But if you know the stuff, they can’t fail you.”

“Ah, but they can. I don’t have the Harrington name to convince them to change a D to a C. It’s all good. Everyone expected it.”

Steve’s brows furrow, forehead creasing as he thinks about how many things people expected of him that won’t happen.

“Just because people expect it doesn’t mean you have to give it to them,” he says.

Eddie’s eyes widen and he seems shocked by Steve’s words. But the shock wears off quickly. Steve wonders if he imagined it.

“Right you are! Very wise words from the king,” Eddie bows dramatically.

Steve laughs.

Eddie glances up, tense until he realizes Steve’s not laughing at him, just at the entertainment. He stands straight and holds out his hand.

“I do believe such wise words should be repaid with a dance,” Eddie puts on a fake British accent, nose pointed to the sky, smirk playing on his lips.

Steve thinks this must be what it’s like to be charmed by someone.

“A dance?” Steve asks. “Here? With me?”

“It would be my honor,” Eddie loses the accent and turns his head back down so he’s looking right at Steve’s eyes. “Miss Lauper wrote this song just for us, after all.”

Steve’s confusion grows until he hears the song coming from the gym. He can only imagine how awkward it must be in the gym while some couples slow dance with chaperones watching their every breath. He reaches out and takes Eddie’s hand.

“The honor is mine, sir Munson,” Steve tries for an accent like Eddie had previously, but it falls flat.

Eddie pulls him close, but hesitates before he puts an arm around his waist. Steve feels breathless all of a sudden, like they’ve rocketed into space and he forgot one of those astronaut suits. He nods, giving permission for Eddie to take the lead.

When Eddie pulls him closer, they’re almost flush against each other.

Steve’s heart is racing.

“I didn’t know you were weird,” Eddie admits quietly. It sounds a lot like admiration. He’s swaying them back and forth gently, and Steve finds it’s easy to lose track of everything but the way Eddie’s hands rest on his body. “It’s nice to see you, Steve.”

It’s a lot more than what it sounds like.

As Cyndi Lauper plays, Steve wonders if this is how his prom was always meant to be spent: in Eddie Munson’s arms, falling.

[writingsinashes]

Law & Order: Sah Edition

“She looks sad. She looks angry. She looks different from everyone else I know—she cannot put on that happy face others wear when they know they are being watched. She doesn’t put on a face for me, which makes me trust her somehow.”

Updated rules for writing with this RP blog! Please like it when you've read them!

Rule 1: Multi-Fandom, Multi-Verse, Multi-Ship, and OC Friendly.

Please note that I am open to a wide range of fandoms, universes, ships, and original characters (OCs). However, for a smooth and engaging interaction, I need to feel that our muses are compatible. If it seems unlikely that our characters will connect meaningfully, I may not follow back. This isn't personal—sometimes muses just don't align. Additionally, if you are using a side-blog, kindly inform me so I can make sure to follow your RP blog directly. Thank you!

Rule 2: Post Formatting and Reply Ettiquite.

I strive to respond to threads in a timely manner, but please understand that muse can be unpredictable at times. If it's been about a week or so without a reply or update on a particular thread, feel free to reach out to me here or on Discord— I'm more than happy to hear from you! Regarding writing format, I tend to write longer replies, but please don’t feel pressured to match that length. As long as you provide a paragraph or two in return, that’s more than enough. When I post from my laptop or desktop, I might include banners, GIFs, and occasionally style the text, though I keep it simple overall. I don't mind how you choose to format your replies—whether using icons or not, or with or without formatting. I’m here to write with you, and I’m sure you have great aesthetics! Let’s just enjoy the process together.

Rule 3: I do not forget people on purpose.

I understand that it may appear as though I’m consistently replying to certain individuals, but I want to clarify that this is often due to personal connections or close affiliations with those writers. Sometimes, I may simply have more creative energy for one thread at a given time, while others are on pause. Please know that I do not intentionally ignore anyone. If you ever notice me engaging with a specific person and want to check in or ask how I’m doing, feel free to reach out! I’m always happy to chat. Thank you for your understanding. :)

Rule 4: Type of RP blog I run and who are welcome to intereact and how!

This is a mutually exclusive, multimuse, multiverse, multiship and crossover-friendly RP blog. And for the safety and comfort of all involved, I kindly request that all interactions be with individuals who are 21 or older. The mun behind this blog is 25+, so this is a necessary guideline for both the mun and muses. While anonymous asks are welcome for lighthearted scenarios and skits, I do require knowing who I’m writing with before engaging in any threads, whether through asks or posts. Please feel free to introduce yourself in whichever manner you feel most comfortable. Thank you for understanding!

Rule 5: Ask Memes.

Feel free to send as many asks as you'd like—I truly enjoy them! However, please keep in mind that it may take me some time to respond. I appreciate your patience! I do reserve the right to delete any asks that I deem inappropriate or if I simply feel I lack the inspiration to respond to them. For Ask Memes, they will be posted in their own separate threads and considered as thread starters for those specific characters. I view these memes as a great way to break the ice and make it easier to continue interactions! If you’re running a multimuse blog, please be sure to specify which muse you are writing as when sending asks or starter calls. It helps me to respond more accurately! If you're unsure, feel free to provide a couple of options, and I’ll do my best to choose or reply accordingly. If this isn’t specified, I may either disregard the ask or respond with a random muse. Thank you so much for your understanding, and I look forward to interacting with you! <3

Rule 6: Plotting and Thread Content.

I enjoy pre-plotting threads, so don’t be surprised if, when we first start discussing potential interactions, I suggest talking things through in detail. While I’m open to winging things as well, I do want to note that I’m not the best at writing starters, so I tend to ask my partner to initiate the first post! Please be mindful that I prefer not to be pressured about specific ships, plots, or ideas. If I express that I don’t feel something would work well, I kindly ask that you respect my decision and refrain from bringing it up repeatedly. Your understanding and cooperation are greatly appreciated!

Rule 7: Shipping Muses and Thread Content.

I’m a big fan of shipping and exploring different dynamics, but I believe that chemistry between characters is key. Please don’t take it personally if things don’t develop as we initially expected—sometimes, muses just don’t align the way we hope. I truly appreciate your understanding! I'm not just looking for romantic relationships but familial ones as well as friendships and platonic ones. However, I do not very often change a muse's sexual orientation, so if they identify as "Straight," then that's how I'm writing them, and so on and on.

Rule 8: Approaching different verser or crossovers.

I recently came across a plot idea that I thought was really creative and wanted to share. "An AU where our muses discover the ability to jump into any book they choose. They can explore different worlds, until one day, they land in a fandom where they get stuck. Now, they must navigate the story, avoid being noticed, and figure out how to fix things without meeting a grim fate." This concept is how I approach crossovers, so if you're ever interested in exploring something similar, that's the kind of framework I enjoy! It's a fun way to blend fandoms and create unique scenarios where our characters have to adapt to unfamiliar settings.

Rule 9: Sah's State of Mind.

I want to be transparent about my mental health, as it can sometimes affect my interactions here. I have been diagnosed with PTSD, anxiety, insomnia, bipolar disorder type 2, severe depression, schizoaffective disorder, and borderline personality disorder. Despite my best efforts, these conditions can influence my actions, and at times, I may need to take a step back or become quieter for a few days. I never anticipated needing to outline this as a rule, but it's important for you to understand that these health challenges are part of who I am. If you're unfamiliar with borderline personality disorder or any of my other conditions, I encourage you to learn more about them to better understand my experience. I tend to become anxious and worried that I may have unknowingly offended someone, particularly if there’s a delay in communication, like not receiving a reply OOC (out of character), or feeling like I’ve been ignored or ghosted. If you’re someone who struggles with directly telling me if you're no longer interested in talking or writing with me, I kindly ask that you reconsider approaching me. I deeply value the OOC relationships I build with the wonderful muns behind the muses, and I invest a lot into those connections. Please know that I won’t apologize for caring about our interactions.

Rule 10: The Trigger Tagging Situation Here on this RP Blog.

If someone specifically requests that I tag something, I will make every effort to ensure it’s properly tagged. However, I do want to be transparent and say that, more often than not, I can be a bit forgetful when it comes to tagging. I apologize in advance for any oversight. I do my best to keep everyone’s rules in mind, but with the number of people I interact with and my own memory limitations, it’s not always feasible to remember every detail. Because of this, I offer flexibility with my own rules and would greatly appreciate it if the same understanding is extended to me. Please know that I never intend to violate anyone’s rules or cause discomfort, and I’m always open to communication if something needs to be addressed. Your understanding and patience mean a lot!

Rule 11: The content and warnings that come with this RP Blog.

I don’t have many specific triggers to list, but I’m generally open to exploring a wide range of themes. I make an effort to tag all darker threads accordingly, so if you’re interested in exploring content of that nature, please feel free to add me on Discord or DM me directly to discuss. However, please be aware that there may be taboo ships featured on this blog, such as those from Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon, and these themes may extend to other fandoms as well. Some content I may engage with includes, but is not limited to: gore, horror, smut, incest, assault, violence, blood, mental and physical disorders, pain, drugs, and alcohol. This list may expand over time as new ideas emerge. If any of these themes make you uncomfortable, I completely understand if you choose not to engage. Your comfort and boundaries are respected, and I won’t take offense if you decide to step away.

Rule 12: When FOLLOWING me or UNFOLLOWING me | When to Soft Block vs Hard Block.

We all know that Tumblr can be glitchy, and things like being unfollowed and refollowed can happen unexpectedly. If you've soft blocked me and I unknowingly re-follow you, I realize that may cause some discomfort for both of us. While I understand that there may be reasons behind this, I’m not entitled to an explanation, but I would prefer it if, in cases where you feel the need to soft block me, you simply hard block my RP blog instead. This way, we can avoid any confusion or awkwardness. Additionally, I regularly clean up my followers list, so if you notice I’ve unfollowed you and it seems random, it could be because I mistakenly thought we were no longer mutuals. If this happens, especially if you’re following me from a side blog (which I have no problem with at all!), please feel free to let me know. I’d really appreciate it, and it will help clear up any misunderstandings. Thank you!

[taissasspidergirl]

red eyes

gn reader (i made sure there were no pronouns used. let me know if i somehow still managed to make a mistake, my brain is so weird)

minors and ageless blogs dni.

a/n: this inspiration behind this is insane. which is why it may look rushed, or not long enough. this was purely self-indulgent as wanda can save us all. proofread but i wrote this as i went so there might be mistakes left. enjoy reading leave any feedback if you have any lets gooo

w/c: 3.7 k ish

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, questions about drug consumption. gay reader. gay wanda. shuri and riri trying to play matchmakers. reader being a mess. makeout, reader and wanda match their freak. that’s about it i think? let me know if i missed anything!!

It starts below the cut :)

She was like a dream. Angel. Dream angel? You had no idea what she could be because your eyes were focused on hers. How they could lead you into a never ending forest that you’d gladly get lost into. Your legs nearly gave out when she tucked her hair behind her ear and fixed her suit. A simple action. And yet it was enough for you to act like a teenager all over again.

“Are you opening a tab or…?” The bartender asked, pointing towards your drink, interrupting any further thought your brain could conjure about the stranger.

“I’m…I think I’m good here. Thank you.” You mutter more than you speak, too entranced by the redhead who’s leaned against the wall, twirling a drink in her hand. Sliding a generous tip as an apology for the amount of zoning out you've been doing, you slide off the barstool and shake off your nerves.

Why were you even feeling like this?

The music was blasting so loud that you can feel the vibration of the bass traveling through your body, a pleasant distraction from the current shivers. You wonder where Shuri and Riri went off too but are slightly grateful that they lost you. You're not sure you could handle their teasing on top of your current state. Which would be painfully obvious that something was going on.

As you walk through the crowd of dancing bodies you allow yourself to relax, following the rhythm. For a minute it works. You ignore the stranger’s entracing presence. Or it could just be the alcohol traveling in your blood that’s making you think this way. Either way you’re successful at forgetting her, so much so that you don’t feel a pair of hands around your waist.

“I almost lost you.” It’s like time froze. You don’t know much what to say, much less think. What can you even do in this situation? It almost felt like an eternity before you take another drink of liquid courage and turn around, mentally steeling yourself. Right. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve ever flirted with someone, right?

“Ah, there you are.” Shuri playfully pushes you away. You nearly choke, eyes widening to see that the mysterious woman you feared was in fact, your best friend.

“You can at least pretend you’re happy to see us.” Riri chuckles as she notices how lost you looked.

“It’s not that. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all.” You make another attempt to drink before Shuri stops you in midair.

“I hope it was a pleasant surprise.”

“Hey, you were the ones who abandoned me.” 

“Uh, I thought you told us that you’d join us later on?” Riri furrows her brows. Shuri checks your temperature before leaning in to whisper closely in your ear. “Did you take anything else other than alcohol? Because seriously–”

“What? No, no, I didn’t, I’m just…”

And there she was again. This time she’s dancing with someone, with her hands around them. You can’t tell their exact gender but you know they’re lucky. You yearn to feel the heat of her body against yours, those hands to guide your movements and those eyes to devour you.

“Yeah, okay. We’re putting you on water from now on.”

You can hardly hear what Shuri is saying, your eyes trained on the redhead. You never wished you were someone else until now. She whispers something to them, making them laugh and you feel a swirl travel uncomfortably to the pit of your abdomen.

“I don’t know Shuri…I think it’s more of a girl problem than a high problem.”

“What?”

“Look at what’s happening.” Riri points to you, who’s looking at the woman who is now looking at…you. She doesn’t even blink, instead pulling the person she’s with closer, staring at you, nearly challenging you to break your stare. And that seems to be enough to get you out of your trance because you shake your head, grounding back into reality. 

“What is…what?” Your heart is racing uncontrollably, in all sorts of different patterns. 

“Damn. I wish I could've filmed that. You were in another world.” Shuri snickers as she waves a hand in front of you. You hardly blink, making Riri look at you in concern.

“Okay, seriously what is going on with you? You sure you didn’t take anything?”

“I’m afraid Cupid shot that poor heart of yours.” At Shuri’s laughter you blink hard, turning away from the green eyed woman to your friends.

“Who?” Yeah. You definitely need a seat because your legs are completely giving out. That and you feel delusional, you think you’ve seen a hint of a smirk but that could be a trick of the light and your brain going hazy.

Your friends look at each other before guiding you to the bar, sitting you down. You appreciate their concern but it’s nothing big. You’re just being dramatic. Your ears barely register what they are saying. You hardly see the glass of water in front of you, her eyes still stuck in your mind, nearly enough to make your skin stick with sweat.

Downing the drink in one go, you take a deep breath, leaning into Shuri’s comforting touch.

“I did not expect to have to play matchmaker on my trip. Say Riri, are you down with me?

“Woah, woah, woah. No one is playing matchmaker. There is no match to be made. And we’re here to make you enjoy your vacation, not give you any work.” You interrupt, downing your glass of water in one go, choking miserably as the woman– stranger, angel? approaches you. 

“Are you sure? Because right now you’re– Wanda?”

“Shuri. It’s a pleasant surprise to see you. What gives?” Wanda, you’ve learned, leans in and hugs Shuri, offering a polite handshake to Riri. You could listen to that husky voice and her accent all day on tape.

“I’ve been on vacation from Wakanda, and my good friend here offered me a place to stay.” She gestures to you, which you take as a cue to act normal. But how can you when you feel like you’re going to melt at any moment because right now Wanda is looking at you and offering her hand. God her hands are so soft.

“Wait, you all…know each other?” 

You mirror Riri’s question in your mind, trying not to look too overly interested, you think you’ve already done enough with your staring.

“We go way back. Wanda was in a college exchange programme in Wakanda. A little before we met.”

“And how do you know each other?” This time Wanda turns to you and you nearly choke on air. You really needed to get a grip on yourself.

“Uh…college…volleyball?” You uncontrollably drop your voice to a whisper. Your whole body trembles under her gaze, a shiver trembling throughout your entire body. It’s uncomfortable, yet addictive.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She leans her ear closer to your lips and it takes all the courage to not stumble on your words. Her scent invades your senses. It’s something sweet and floral, yet so heady that it’s entrapping.

“Volleyball. College.” 

You were better than this. You don’t think out of all the people you’ve spoken to you were this miserable. Fortunately for you she doesn’t pay any mind. In fact she almost finds it amusing. It’s refreshing to most overly confident and shallow people she’s met. You were refreshing, in a way.

“It was a tie, if you’re asking.” Shuri nudges Wanda, trying to hold back her laugh from how absolutely of a mess you are right now. You wonder if she’s trying to put in good words in your honour. 

“From what I heard it was pretty impressive.” Riri adds as she signals the bartender for another set of drinks.

“It was forever ago. Besides, with the internship at The Daily Bugle I don’t think I have much time.” You steal her drink, ignoring her look of indignation. 

“But I heard you still play occasionally? Next week we’re going to train with other friends, just for the good memories. You can join us if you want, Wanda. Besides, we have lots of catching up to do.”

“How could I not?” And right now she was staring directly at you. This time, you choke on your drink.

“Shit, are you okay?” You feel your heart beating out of your chest at the way she rubs your back. Air. You need air.

“I think…outside. I need to go outside.”

“Do you need our help?” 

“I’m fine, Shuri, I just need a quick breather…”

You need more than that.

“Why don’t we go outside? Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, I think you two need to go outside. Riri and I will stay here and look over our things.”

“Is that okay with you?” Wanda turns to look at you for confirmation and you numbly nod your head. Honestly, you’d go anywhere she asks you to.

As you walk away they subtly shoot you a thumbs up, only replacing with a wave and a farewell when Wanda promises to get you back.

She leads you to a set of stairs, the sound of music slowly fading away. She has her hand on your back the whole time. Not too forceful but guiding. As you reach the final set of stairs she leads you to a balcony. The cold air is inviting, instantly cooling your nerves. Wanda lets go of you and you almost…no. Be honest with yourself. You miss her warmth.

“Feeling any better?”

If she keeps on talking with that accent and that voice you don’t think you’ll be.

“I’m alright. Just…y’know. Those evenings. One of those evenings. I mean I’m not always like this, I’m chill. I mean not chill chill, but…” You were rambling, waving your hand as you cleared your throat. 

“I get you. Got too overwhelmed?”

“Yeah…” There is no way that a question could take that long to answer.

“Mhm. That happens. It felt like everything was closing in on you, right?” 

“Yeah. Like I couldn’t escape.” You’re not sure how she can still hear you with how low you’re speaking. Maybe it’s because you’re missing how close you got.

“Well. I’m wishing that’s not the case for you right now.” How did basic human decency turn into a new standard for you? With the way she was smiling softly at you and keeping a careful eye, you think you have your answer.

“I’m alright, thanks…Wanda.” Saying her name felt so good. God you’re weird. She probably thinks you’re being weird right now.

“I’m glad you are…?” She trails off, waiting for you to finish her sentence. What could she want? Your name? Right. Your name. 

After giving her your name she tries it out. You’ve never paid much attention to it up until now and you swear you only want to hear it out of her. In all the ways you can think of.

“It’s nice to officially meet you. Shuri’s never done a presentation for her friends before…looks like I’ve been missing out.”

“Oh, you didn’t miss out much. I mean I’m the least interesting out of the bunch. Really.”

This is not the coolest way to introduce yourself.

“Says who? In the little amount of time I got to know you, I know you’re a competitive volleyball player. And you’re interning for a company? I think that you’re more interesting than you let on.”

“That was a longtime ago. I don’t have any more of my reflexes anymore.”

“I think reflexes stay with us forever. The more you practice the more it stays. Muscle memory kind of thing.”

“Right. Right. I totally get that, I mean…it stays…but I’m not sure. I don’t think I am as good as I was before.”

“Really? But aren’t you going to play next week?”

How the hell did she remember that?

“The girls are just saying that. I’m not sure if I’ll even be there. I might be there to watch or coach, but that’s about it.”

“You coach?”

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“I could see that. You seem to be observant. And you were pretty much…observant back there.” She laughs, the sound echoing softly in the air. You almost forget what she said…something about you being observant? wait. Observant? Shit, you’ve been caught– “I was wondering what it would take for you to talk to me. Guess all you needed was the right incentive.”

Woah, woah…what exactly is happening?

“You’re making up too many ideas.” It was so nonsensical but her gaze darkened at your trembling tone, completely indifferent to your words. She hasn’t felt that chase in a while. Or a feeling so strong, so indescribable, that it’s almost hypnotising. She felt your stare on her. She felt your presence. It was so ridiculous but she needed to know you, to have you. Maybe she’ll ask Shuri questions about you. Or just skip the questions entirely.

“I’m never one to make up ideas or lie.” 

“You’re…so impossible.” Your body feels a random wave of warmth. You’re not entirely sure if it’s the alcohol taking its effect if it’s just her.

“Most people like that about me.” She leans against the railing, smiling that same smirk you could’ve sworn you imagined. Just having her like this felt real. A gust of wind flew past her hair and you couldn’t stop yourself from staring. And it’s like she knows, because the minute you’re about to speak she steps closer to you.

“There you go with the staring again.”

“I’m sorry. I really am, I didn’t…I’m sorry. It’s just you’re so…”

You really are awful at this.

“So…what?” The redhead mock grins, her laughter making your stomach swirl with need. The air hardly even cools you anymore, your body is now at an all time heat. She held so much energy that you nearly felt intimidated. It felt like all oxygen was sucked in and she held you completely still. It’s a fate you’ll gladly accept. “There are so many things going on in that pretty head of yours.”

“You’re so pretty I can hardly even focus.” Your heart races so fast you’re nearly out of breath as you finish speaking. “And I don’t know what’s wrong with me but you’ve got something about you that’s making me forget everything I know. You’re the only one I ever really want to know about. I know how crazy I sound, I mean I…” You don’t even stop to think before you talk. You realised how fucked you are when she raises a hand to interrupt you.

“Slow down for me, alright?” 

Yeah. You’re so fucked. She’s probably going to tell your friends how much of a fucking weirdo you are–

“Look, for some weird reason I feel…I feel the same way too. And this is going to sound so weird but I think it’s perfectly normal for you to feel that way. You’re going to think I’m insane but I’ve been thinking a lot that something like this’ll happen.”

Silence ensues. A thousand alarm bells ring through your mind. And through hers. She should just apologise and leave it as it is–

“I think it’s…more than just normal. I mean I’ve been feeling this weird energy too and I thought if I spoke about it to Shuri she’s probably going to overextend her stay.” You speak clearly, not out of breath. You hold her stare, feeling brave, and safe. It’s so unexplainable. Maybe one of those theories you’ve heard of, or something more.

“I take it we got each other under our spell.” The redhead sighs with relief, drawing even closer to you and tentatively taking your hand in hers. You allow it. For some reason the touch feels more electric than before. It’s a pleasant shock. One that you don’t want to find letting go anytime soon.

“I think you’re the one who’s got me more under a spell than anything. Totally threw me off.”

“Oh, I did?”

“You did.”

You find yourself stepping closer to her, reaching for her other hand, tracing her pulse. You miss her low murmur, how she’s silently encouraging you to do more. To say more.

“You just have this pull to you, Wanda. If…you want to, I’d like to know more about you. And take you out sometime, maybe. If that’s what you want?” You were deflating again, your voice wavering. Just when everything was going perfect…

“I’d like that.” Her touch is so slow and tender it feels like you’re not even here.

“Huh?”

Her hands move to cup your cheeks, feeling the warmth of your skin. She doesn't say the words, not yet, but silently lets you know that you’ve got her right where she wants to. Just as you have her. Even then…just for you, she would repeat anything you need to hear.

“I said I’d like that. A lot, actually. I don’t know what this feeling is… But I want to find out more about it. With you, in our own time.” She speaks so softly that you can’t help but step closer, impossibly closer than what you already were. She truly has you under a spell.

“Then…good.” You smile, lifting her hands to your lips before gently kissing each knuckle.

“Good?”

“Good.”

“More than anything?” She leans in, her lips barely brushing against yours. Her hands let go of yours, wanting to feel your heartbeat

“I promise.” Your voice wavers as her eyes flit into yours, dropping down to gaze at your lips, before she gazes back at you again, silently asking you for permission to kiss you.

It’s a request you grant.

Her fingers tugs your shirt, your lips playfully brushing together as she smiles against them. She switches positions, tugging on your shirt as she walks backwards, leading you further away from the balcony, until her back hits the wall.

“Wait, Wanda…is this what you want? You know we don’t have to–”

“Kiss me, please.” It’s like your brain is wired to listen to her. You break the distance, your lips colliding. She’s aggressive. Carefully aggressively. Her lips taste of strawberries, making you hum softly. They’re so sweet you can hardly feel them against yours. Until she traps your bottom lip with her teeth, teasingly pulling back, keeping steady eye contact with you.

It’s like you forgot how to breathe entirely.

Her pupils are so blown you can hardly see the colour of her eyes. You try to resist the urge to stare at her heaving chest, wanting nothing more but to slowly take her apart right then and there. A swirling sensation at the pit of her abdomen, her hands itching to pull you impossibly closer to her, to feel you against her. It’s a feeling she’s rediscovering again. And it’s driving her mad with want, desire…and something more. She pulls you in again, her hands digging into your hips, making you groan into the kiss, completely unable to return it probably. You’re almost too drunk on her. It’s uncoordinated, messy, and yet…still so addictively intoxicating. Your hands move wherever you can touch, rapid and sporadic. It’s like you’ve known each other before, seemingly able to map out your sensitive areas.

Eventually, reluctantly, you’re both gasping for air, using each other as anchors. You laugh after a while, feeling your heart rate slow down to a normal rhythm. 

“I’m taking you out on a real date, alright?” You press your forehead against hers, relishing in the way she wraps her arms around you.

“I know you will.” She whispers, kissing the tip of your nose before capturing your lips one last time. You lean against her, dropping your head to her shoulder. As you close your eyes images come wafting through her mind, images of realities that have yet to happen soon. 

[lukeynewtssimp]

When Nic is out and about with her bf all I see from Lukolas is pure hate and disdain for them both. It’s only now that the man brought out his gf that suddenly everyone is okay with it. Does that seem like equal treatment to you? Where was your defense before this?

You’re happy and proud of him for finally claiming her but where is the happiness for Nic? I’m still talking about Lukolas in general.

Do you not see the people saying he’s finally with someone well matched with him? And when people said the same hateful things after premiere night because of that stunt where was the support for Nic? You think his choices didn’t affect her, whether it was intentional or not?

This side of the fandom is extremely male-centered and you just don’t want to admit it. I am still very much hoping to be proved wrong in the future.

Wow okay there is a lot to unpack here.

Let me start by saying that my blog is very new. I only started posting like a month or so ago so excuse me for my lack of defence back when Nic apparently “needed” it.

Neither of them “need” anybody to defend them lol. We don’t get brownie points for proving we are their number one fan. They literally have no fucking clue who I am and don’t care to find out either. I just use my platform to express my love for the people I am a fan of and the things I am passionate about and to express my frustration at things and behaviours that annoy me. That’s the point of having a personal blog.

idk how to make it any clearer. Like it’s literally in my username, yea I am a fan of Nicola too but I’m a bigger fan of Luke. We all have our faves so I don’t get why you’re so angry that Luke is mine.

Yes I see the very small number of people making comments like that about Antonia looking good next to Luke or whatever. I choose to ignore it because I have seen a very small number of these comments and me talking about it would only amplify these pathetic people’s voices. I obviously do not agree with this take. It is rooted in fatphobia and those people can say whatever they want but they do not speak for Luke or Nic.

Nic is not some self conscious young girl waiting for a man to notice how beautiful she is. The fact that you think Luke’s decisions about who he’s dating affected her, then you’re the problem. You’re the one painting Nicola as this desperate girl crying for attention. Nic is a confident and very sexy woman and she fucking owns it and knows it. She literally ruled 2024 and has gained so much popularity last year as she deserves. And you know what? Luke knows it too and that man, unlike what you and other people think, is not and was never ashamed to show that he’s attracted to her and finds her beautiful and sexy and smart and talented. He’s not the most talkative when it comes to that stuff, that man literally blushes at everything. But his actions speak louder than his words. Just because he is dating a woman who doesn’t look like Nic does not mean he does not find Nic attractive and it also does not mean he rejected Nic by doing so.

As @jenhack beautifully put in the comments: Nic is not bothered! She is busy talking to other SAG nominees and being lauded by her peers. She does not need to, or have to be defined by any man she is connected with.

Crazy Lukolas do not only hate on Jake and Nic but they also hate on Luke and Antonia. Have you seen all the nasty stuff they have called this poor girl?

Sorry this has been very long but I just need everybody to stop projecting their hurt feelings and traumas on Nicola and Luke PLEASE!

PS: the “you” is not just aimed at you specifically anon, but everybody who agrees with that discourse of Luke hurting Nic by dating another woman and taking her to the premieres that I am tired of hearing about. And let’s not forget Nic took Jake to that premiere too…