#and then she was honest and said it’s sometimes hard for her when she needs reassurance or comfort and i can’t exactly give it

[deputyrook]

Drabble - Sleepwalking

Word count: 1200-ish

Rook wakes up after Spite has crawled Lucanis into her bed in the middle of the night. Soft, short Lucanis/Rook drabble!

---

See, it was funny. Rook was pretty sure she’d been alone when she’d gone to bed.

Now, as Rook stirred from her sleep and shook off the remnants of the dream she’d been having- something about Assan stealing her copy of Swords and Shields and having to chase after him- she realized someone had crawled into bed with her.

Bracketed against her chaise, Rook was lying on her side facing inward, her back to the fishtank and whoever had decided to come in for a midnight snuggle. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and a face was pressed against the back of her neck. The beard tickling her skin and the light smell of coffee didn’t leave a whole lot of mystery as to who this was, which was the main reason she wasn’t already elbowing herself free.

Lucanis. His entire body was flush against hers, like he’d deliberately tried to get as close to her as possible. She’d almost kissed him in the pantry the other day, but he’d backed out at the last minute. Now here he was, one of his legs slotted in between hers, holding her pressed to his chest like she was a life-sized teddy bear.

Heat began to rise in Rook’s cheeks. Holy hell.

While she was contemplating what to do, she heard the sound of a soft snore in her ear. Okay, so he was asleep. Given how tightly he was holding her, Rook didn’t think she’d be able to extricate herself from this situation without waking him. Which she didn’t necessarily want to do, because Lucanis slept so sparingly in general. It was good that he was resting, he needed sleep.

Could this have something to do with Spite?

The embrace didn’t last that long, however warm and comfortable it actually was. Lucanis shifted in his sleep, his hips moving against Rook, and her intake of breath was so sharp and so loud she immediately knew it would wake him.

And it did. 

“Hm?” Lucanis groaned, face pulling away from her back. And then he realized where he was.

“Qué mierda? Madre mía!” His voice was alarmed, and he scrambled away from Rook so quickly that he fell off her chaise entirely, falling backward onto the floor.

Rook rolled over to look at him. Lucanis was staring at her, eyes wide, with pure panic written across his face. She was glad to see she wasn’t the only one blushing, as heat was quickly making his ears darken a mottled red. As they stared at each other, Lucanis’ mouth opened, and then shut again. He was speechless.

She couldn’t help it. First, it started as a snicker, but soon Rook was laughing so hard that she had to press a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise.

“It’s not funny, Rook,” Lucanis said, a bit lamely, but she could see the relief flooding through him.

“It’s a bit funny,” She countered, “Are you going to explain, or just lie on the floor looking stunned?”

With a sigh, Lucanis flopped onto his back, and ran a hand through his hair. His eyes darted to Rook before pointedly looking away from her. She couldn’t help but notice he also avoided looking at her fishtank, his gaze instead settling on a random spot on her ceiling.

“I have no idea. I think Spite is becoming a bit fixated on you. He was going on about wanting to talk to you, about escaping. He doesn't make any sense, half the time,” Lucanis huffed in irritation, “Normally if I fall asleep, he tries to walk around or leave the Lighthouse, not...this.”

A silence stretched between them. Rook fiddled with the hem of her sleep shirt.

“To be honest, I didn’t really mind,” She said finally. Fuck it. “I mean, you need to sleep sometimes. Better Spite wants to, uh, cuddle up than take you on a field trip.” Was that too forward? He had backed away after their almost-kiss, but then he had also, later, implied that he wanted to go through with it but felt he couldn’t. For whatever reason.

It was practical. Rook decided, sneaking a glance at Lucanis. Nothing to do with his entire body pressed against mine, holy maker that was hot, and also just so cozy? I think he can hold me forever and we can never leave this room and I’d die happy.

Lucanis pushed himself back to a seated position, his body facing her. When she looked at him, she saw a hard-to-read expression on his face, something between confusion and affection. It was a gentle, raw thing.

“You’re...” Lucanis ran a hand over his face, thinking, clearly still so exhausted, “unbelievable sometimes, Rook.”

She couldn’t help but smile. Better to take that as a compliment. “So I’ve heard. You know, there’s still a few hours until dawn. If you want to-” she cleared her throat, faltering, “I mean, Spite was a little grabby, but if you want to sleep beside me, there’s a lot of room up here. I know this is more comfortable than that so-called ‘bed’ of yours in the pantry.”

Ah, she’d definitely gone too far that time. It was like her MO, to finally get somewhere, but then push her luck and fuck things up. She’d probably push him away with this suggestion, too. And then she’d end up even more embarrassed about it than he was, because it made her feel just a little pathetic, to keep after this crush on him like a hopeful puppy.

But then again, she’d woken up to him snuggling up to her. So.

Rook blinked in surprise as Lucanis stood, and then sat down on the edge of her chaise. He hesitated there, as if he himself couldn’t believe what he was doing. Looking at Rook nervously, he said, “Well, unlike Spite, I happen to be a gentleman. So, if that offer was serious...”

Grinning, Rook laid back down, shifting aside to give Lucanis more room on her bed. He still sat there, looking down at her for a moment, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Again, his expression was fond, and so vulnerable that it made Rook's chest ache.

Then, with a very soft smile of his own, Lucanis laid back down beside her, pulling up Rook’s blanket back overtop of them both. 

They both slept more soundly than they had in a long time.

[sn0wwangeel]

all this repeated trauma over the years has caused me to become a shell of myself. i don’t know how to comfort people anymore. i don’t know how to talk anymore. i can’t form a coherent sentence without crying. i feel so bad cause all i can say is “real” or “i hear that” and i so badly wish i had the words but i don’t, and i don’t have the energy anymore either to say more than one word. i’m so fucking worn out but i care so much i care so much i promise i care so fucking much please

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 8

it's the morning after. spencer reid suspects you’re left with some doubts after losing your virginity to him. he has to figure out why—which is hard when you're keeping secrets.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, blood related to losing virginity (dramatized for the drama duh), super vague allusions to the BAU being hungover, mild blasphemy if anyone even cares, pondering god bc am I really a fanfic writer if I don’t get a little religious w it, emily AND hotch are here and nobody knows why pls don't pay attention to that bc we are imagining like season 11/12 spencer and I'm inconsistent w who is unit chief in this series apparently, spencer slut lore, spencer emotional wounds lore, Spencer is a traumatic situationship survivor a/n: DADDYS HOMEEEEE (me and dybmn not spencer) anyway missed these little guys and am happy to be writing for them again!! idk what my upload schedule will becoming back to this but pls lmk what u think of this part, I have no idea how you will respond but I'm being brave and ily

Friday morning Spencer comes into the office fifteen minutes late (he tried his best), in yesterday’s suit (everything in his go-bag had been too wrinkled), hair messy (no doubt from your fingers), coffee cold (he’s exhausted) and overall, in an excellent mood.

The rest of the team isn’t faring quite as well—Spencer gathers they stayed at the bar celebrating Derek’s birthday a lot later than he had. It shows through sallow skin and dark circles and the grimaces he receives on the way to his desk that are probably supposed to approximate good morning’s. 

Honestly, he doesn’t mind the dull mood—he doesn’t need the teasing and the prying questions that would be sure to come if his co-workers were at peak performance and were able to put together his unusually perky demeanor and disheveled appearance. At least Prentiss doesn’t appear to be paying him any mind. She’s always the one who can read him like an open book and has no shame in doing so aloud. Echoes from years of, ‘so who was the lucky girl, last night, Reid?’ Still ring through his mind and it’s like he can feel her finger prodding at his side. 

The Emily of it all makes him smile, though the rest of the memory leaves a metal tang in his mouth. Back in those days, there were sometimes a lot of girls, but even then he was consciously aware he wasn’t necessarily doing something he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time, actually, staring at his bedroom ceiling, psychoanalyzing himself. Repetition compulsion. The insatiable desire to repeat or reenact emotionally painful experiences. Maybe he thought if he could teach himself to subsist off of emotionless hookups, he could in some way heal from his experience with Elle. Though, he’s hesitant to think of it now as healing—it’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing when a few nights after she said I don’t feel the same I’m sorry he opened up his front door for her. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing every time after that. So, maybe heal isn’t the right word, when one doesn’t have the right to be injured. Or when the injuries are, in a manner of speaking, self-inflicted. At the very least he could tell himself that this time around, meaningless sex was a choice he was making for himself. Spencer hates when things just happen to him. 

But you—you’re different. You were a complete surprise. At first, a cute and unexpected complication. After a few painful and short-lived attempts at real relationships, Spencer decided he was simply not to be trusted with emotional intimacy of any kind, including that which inevitably develops from physical intimacy, and would resign himself to a life of celibacy. He tried not to like you, but you were just so damn likable. Magnetic, to use a trite and perfectly honest turn of phrase. All that to say: he doesn’t regret you at all. There is no filter of putrid shame or anguish over his memories of last night. 

Just you. Perfect. Starlit. Glowing softly around the edges like you’re not even real. 

I love you I love you I love you. A hymn with no melody. You, always reminding him exactly why he is decidedly not a man of faith. At least, not in the typical sense of the word. 

How God became the idol and not Mary is lost on him. That’s why, Spencer supposes, tapping an eraser on his desk, marriage and sex were forbidden for so many ecclesiastics. After all, if they knew what it was to love a woman, specifically to love you, he doubts they’d feel like spending much time in the pulpit. Love. Humans had that long before they had any gods. It’s primeval. It’s the most natural manifestation of devotion and worship. It will always have come first. Isn’t it a better kind of religion when a man realizes he can kneel in front of a woman rather than an altar?

A heavy hand falling on his shoulder jolts him from his theological musings—which are in all practicality useless. What’s that saying about blasphemous thinking on the FBI’s dime? Right. There isn’t one. 

“I’m scared to ask,” Morgan says as Spencer jumps slightly in his chair. 

“What?” He mumbles, looking up from the document he’d only sort of been reading.

Morgan just looks at him, strong brows furrowed and a ditch between them, angles his head and glances to the side as if Spencer is missing the obvious. He almost follows Derek’s eye-line. When that doesn’t work, Derek just says your name. Like your status is somehow in question. 

“Did you two work things out, or not? It looked pretty bad when you guys were leaving last night.”

People often misunderstand an eidetic memory. It’s not like things can’t slip his mind—Spencer can actually be quite forgetful. It’s made worse by the fact that last night at the bar feels like months ago. For a moment, he has no idea what Derek is referring to. 

“Oh. Oh! Right, we—right. Yeah, we, uh—we worked it out.” Before Derek has a chance to read his face, no doubt as incriminating as his fumbled speech and an ill-timed throat clearing, he turns back to his paperwork. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her at the bar. I appreciate that.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and Spencer’s lips twist as he can feel the incoming inappropriate comment. 

“Is that the same suit you were wearing last night?” Morgan quips, his wide grin audible. Spencer can practically hear the cartoon gleam of his friend’s bleached teeth. 

“No.”

“You dog.” Derek is still smiling as he claps Spencer’s shoulder again. “What did you say to her that worked so well?”

Spencer clears his throat again and tries to look extremely involved in logging onto his computer, speaking quickly as if he’s beyond disinterested and can’t wait for the exchange to be over. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m actually trying to work so if you wouldn’t mind going back to your desk that would be great.” 

“Uh-huh. I’ll let you work. But I see you, pretty boy.”

Spencer tries not to blush like a teenager as he refuses to look up. 

Naturally the rest of the day is a slow descent into dread and madness as all those good feelings with which Spencer had started his morning begin to harden into something much worse, chilled by your lack of response to the text he sent you earlier. Which was essentially a rehashing of the note he left on your bedside table. 

Maybe it was too much. It should’ve been one or the other, but not both. He’s overwhelmed you. 

Okay, so maybe this is what religion is for. A last ditch effort when you can’t talk to your girlfriend so you have to try talking to God. 

But Spencer knows you, and he knows something is wrong. You wouldn’t just ice him out so blatantly if everything was okay. He catches himself glancing up toward Hotch’s window to see if the blinds are drawn, and considers faking an illness to get out of work early and go check on you. But he powers through the remaining hour and a half that he is obligated to stay at work, he bounces a pencil between his fingers, drums at his desk, and gets nothing else done. As soon as 4:59 rolls around, he’s out. 

Spencer can hear shuffling on the other side of your door as he stands in the hallway. A pot clatters. The walls hum with the rush of water through the pipes to your sink. He knocks, relieved that you’re okay and at the same time struggling with that weight on his chest—something cold that leans over his shoulders and whispers into his ear—so she just didn’t want to talk to you. 

Suddenly all sound from inside your unit ceases. For a few long seconds, Spencer’s confusion only grows exponentially. 

“Who is it?” You finally call, voice wavering. Also odd. Usually you just open the door. 

“Um… Spencer?”

“As in my boyfriend Spencer?”

He frowns, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he tries to decipher your sudden paranoia. “I hope so?”

The click and jingle of several locks precipitates your much-anticipated reveal. 

“Come in,” you say breathlessly, more harried than usual and not giving him the tender greeting he’s selfishly become accustomed to—barely even giving him a second to look at you. But he steps inside, watching on in concern as you do up every single lock—the one on the knob, the deadbolt, even the chain. Is this really all because of his little comment last night about anyone being able to get in? He certainly hopes not. He didn’t mean to terrify you. 

When you finally turn, he takes stock of your appearance. Big hoodie, pajama pants patterned in little hearts. Hair pulled back hastily. Your skin is sort of dull where you normally glow. But you’re beautiful, like always. It always aches just a little bit to look at you. Spencer’s always been like that. Going breathless at a particularly good piece of art or pretty girl. Like yourself. Mostly you. 

You quickly turn to hurry back into the kitchen. “I was trying to make dinner, I—”

“Hold on,” he interrupts, stopping you with a hand on your stomach that is so non-demanding it’s really mostly a suggestion. He tries to clear his head, though you make it hard. “You didn’t talk to me all day. Not that you have to, but… I was worried.”

You glance at the floor and mumble, “I lost my phone,” with so much embarrassment he believes you’re telling the truth. “Did you, um—did you text me?”

Insecurity. Spencer knows well what it looks like on you. He softens. You weren’t ignoring him—but you’d been left in a vulnerable state without any ability to contact him or anyone. That couldn’t have been comfortable. 

“Of course I did.” He pauses to observe you. Still anxious. Still prepared to run at any second. Something, and he’s not sure what, did a number on you today. Maybe it’s sheer exhaustion, maybe it was the anxiety of not having your phone. But he has to figure out what it is so he can undo it. “What? What’s wrong?”

He watches your breathing pause—watches your eyes gloss over with tears and a frown contort your features. Oh, god. He’s done something terribly wrong. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s done something wrong. 

“Can we sit down? I don’t feel very good.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we can. Whatever you need.”

You cast a baleful look at him and now he has to wonder what that means. Spencer sets his bag on a pulled out dining chair and follows you to the couch where you settle on opposite sides—you’re curled up in the far corner, hugging a pillow to your chest with your legs folded in front of you. Spencer’s heart is beating fast. He doesn’t know what’s going on with you and he can’t figure it out just by looking and you don’t seem eager to tell him. 

He’s exhausted all his typical ways of collecting information, and now he’s at a loss. 

Eventually, the anxiety comes bubbling up. 

“Please talk to me,” he pleads. And you do. Almost instantly, like he stepped on some sort of landmine. 

“I know it’s my own fault for not having my phone on me and not being able to see your texts, but it really sucks that I had to find out from my creepy neighbor that you snuck out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye.”

The whiplash is so strong it’s almost a broken neck. Spencer reels, frowning deeply as he tries to process your impromptu speech, the sudden confrontation. What creepy neighbor?

“I… didn’t. I went to grab my stuff from the car around one, but I came right back. I left at 7:30. You don’t remember me saying goodbye?”

Your brow furrows, and your eyes dart over the design on the rug like you’re watching memories go by. He sees it in your eyes when you recall some hazy image of him holding your face, kissing your cheek more times than was necessary and whispering sweet things against your lips before he had to go. You shrink into the couch, clearly struggling under the combined weight of relief and embarrassment. 

“I forgot. I thought… he said…”

A moment passes and it’s clear you’ve abandoned the sentence. Spencer is concerned about this shadowy male figure who put malicious untruths into your head. He slides his hand under yours and twines your fingers together. Finally, finally you meet his gaze. 

“Someone made you believe I left without saying goodbye.”

And he almost wishes you weren’t looking at him as more tears pool before falling down your cheeks. You nod, and don’t make a sound. 

“No, honey. I didn’t do that. I’m sorry that’s what you’ve been thinking all day.”

“I was worried that you… or that I wasn’t…”

His chest aches. You’d woken up alone, no recollection of his goodbye, and without the comfort of even a text. 

“You didn’t see my note?”

The way you look at him then is heartbreaking. Eyes wide and wet and sad, lip trembling. 

“You left a note?”

Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will. 

It must’ve fallen off the bedside table, or maybe he just hadn’t positioned it obviously enough. 

A lost phone, a missed note, and not even a memory of his departure. While none of these things are verifiably Spencer’s fault, he feels so, so guilty. 

“I did,” Spencer says gently, scooting closer and pulling you into him, head pressed to his shoulder as you try not to cry, and he rubs your back slowly. 

Your sulky words are muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t see it. What did it say?”

“A lot of very nice things about you,” he whispers. Spencer thought maybe he could get away with giving you all the sincere compliments you can’t accept face to face through a note you could read while he wasn’t around. That way you couldn’t refute them or stop him. It was a good plan. 

He feels the sigh of relief leaving your body against his neck. 

“I didn’t know.”

“I know. I’m sorry. That’s not… I should’ve just stayed. This is my fault.”

You keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder as you speak. 

“It’s not. You have a job. A really important job. You can’t just call out whenever I want you around.”

Logically he knows you’re right, but he doesn’t always think logically around you. 

“I could’ve made it work. I could’ve come in late, or the team could’ve called me if there was a case, which there wasn’t—”

“Spencer, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

He pulls back slightly, frowning at your tone. You do look relieved, much less plagued than you’d been when he arrived minutes ago, but something heavy still weighs you down. The burden of it darkens your eyes and dulls your expression. When he cups your cheek, you glance up at him, and then away once more. 

He speaks softly. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?” 

Again he earns a moment of your eye contact, but it’s fleeting. He watches the words spin around your head as you try to figure out what to do with them—and then choose to remain silent. 

There is in fact something you’re keeping from him. 

Spencer hates to use work tactics on you, but he doesn’t speak either, hoping that you’ll feel compelled to fill the silence with the truth. Knowing how you’re not entirely comfortable with quiet. 

And you try, lips parting and the sound delayed as you wrestle with something you clearly don’t know how to talk about. 

“I… my neighbor,” you say, frowning like you don’t quite know why you’re speaking. “The one who told me he saw you leaving in the middle of the night. He also—he said…”

Spencer brushes hair away from your cheek with a thumb, stroking the high point in gentle passes as your words taper off. Now that he’s thinking about it, he did encounter a man in a dumpy robe standing in the courtyard and smoking a cigarette when he left you tangled in sheets and dozing contentedly to get his bag from the car. In fact, they rode back up to your floor in the elevator in mostly awkward silence. Spencer was sure his outfit told a story—shirt untucked and hastily buttoned only partway, no belt, shoes barely tied, duffel slung over his shoulder—he wasn’t really expecting to run into anyone at such an hour, to be honest, but he hadn’t particularly cared what this man thought of him, so it didn’t cross his mind again.

Now he remembers. 

Long night, huh? I remember those days. 

It was an inappropriate comment, but given his job he’s used to ignoring those. Mostly his mind had been preoccupied with the idea of returning to you, who gave him such a warm and sleepy welcome when he climbed carefully back into your arms several minutes later that it was like he’d never known anyone else at all. 

Now he resents that he hadn’t said anything, he hates the idea that you spoke to this man and he said something to upset you and Spencer wasn’t there. Usually he tries not a judge a book by its cover (metaphorically, of course) but he’s been around enough bad men to know when he’s looking at one. Last night he hadn’t even been cognizant enough to realize they got off on the same floor. 

“What did he say, angel?” Spencer whispers, incapable of being anything but soft with you at the moment. Even though he senses something a lot like a tide of preemptive anger rising in his chest, painted over with layers of anxiety and guilt. He should’ve found a way to stay with you this morning. 

You sniffle and let your head fall again, forehead resting against his collar. Instinctively his hand slides to the back of your neck and even at the awkward angle he finds a way to press his lips to yours hair. “Can we talk about it later? I don’t feel good.”

If it’s making you this uncomfortable, Spencer really wants to know what passed between you and this neighbor. In fact, he’d be willing to bet a lot of your strange behavior this evening stems from something that occurred which you don’t feel comfortable telling him yet. But he manages to bite back anymore questions. He doesn’t want to make you feel interrogated. 

“Yeah, you mentioned that,” he says eventually, kindly, hand tracing down the length of your back and up again. “Why don’t you feel good?”

He doesn’t miss the way you reach up to discreetly wipe your cheek. But he won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about until you’re ready, and it seems like you’re already having a rough day. Which is not what he wanted. This is so far from what he wanted for you. He’s cursing himself for how he handled this whole situation. 

“Um, I just… I don’t know. I feel… bad. I’m sorry I’m being so weird.”

“You’re not being weird, honey. You had a hard day. You’re having a normal reaction to an abnormal set of circumstances.”

You sit up, sniffing and wiping your tears like you can just make the whole thing go away. 

“No, I am. I am. It’s all okay now, right? So I don’t know why I feel like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He watches helplessly. “Nothing is wrong with you. We’ve… it’s been a big couple of days. Mostly good, but I think you’re probably really tired. Emotionally and physically.” 

You bury your face in your hands and nod silently. He still feels like he’s shooting in the dark, but you’re not entirely comforted yet, and it’s killing him. 

“Whatever you’re feeling is okay. If this is… about last night, or this morning, or something entirely different—regardless of what it’s about, you’re not going to be… in trouble with me if you’re having complicated feelings. And you can talk to me. But it doesn’t have to be right now. We don’t have to figure it out all at once, okay?”

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, and for a moment, his words sink into silence. When you do raise your head, nodding, the evidence of your discomfort is all over your face—reddened eyes, cheeks polished with wiped tears. But you take a deep breath and try to project whatever it is you think he wants to see. 

The back of your hand is soft under his thumb as he sweeps it, as if he could draw forth more information that way. People speak when they’re ready.

“Is there anything I can do?” He tries, all ramped brow and soft spoken. 

You’re looking at where he’s tracing swirls on your hand as you swallow and blink the last of your tears away. 

“Um… you can say no, but—do you think it would be okay for you to maybe stay again tonight?”

Spencer sucks in a breath, painfully aware that he’s about to let you down. 

“I… I haven’t been home in a week. I’ve been wearing this suit for two days straight and I don’t think I would want to share a bed with me again until I shower.” He watches you wilt and lifts a hand to stroke your hair. “But I do want to spend time with you… do you maybe want to come stay with me instead? No pressure—”

“Okay. Yes. Is that okay?”

Spencer’s brow knits. You seem even more enthused about the idea of going to his apartment, like now that the opportunity has presented itself you can’t wait to get out. Maybe you have some sort of black mold problem. 

“Of course. Do you wanna grab a few things and then we can go?”

“Um—I also haven’t showered today. Do you mind waiting?”

“Sure. Or you could use mine. With supervision, this time.”

Spencer is attempting to make a joke about your unplanned (and unmoderated) stay at his apartment last week after he left—but looking at your face now he’s wondering if he touched a nerve. 

“Like… one at a time? Or…”

He thought maybe you’d be more comfortable around him after last night—and it’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before then, either.

“Do you wanna do it one at a time?” He asks gently. 

There’s this sparkly sort of longing in your eyes that he’s seen before, but you tamp it down like always. You’re so cautious. About everything. Even the things you’re curious about. It’s sweet and a little sad. 

“I’ve never… showered with anyone.”

The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitches as he pushes hair over your shoulder. “I know. You don’t have to. We could save like 100 gallons of water depending on how long your showers typically last, but—”

“Spencer—”

“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not trying to pressure you. You absolutely can take your own shower. You can go first so you get the hot water.”

“No,” you laugh, and it’s like a sparkling cloud of gold has settled around you, fractals bouncing off the shine of your cheeks and eyes—the sound of your laughter, the look of it, is such beautiful relief he can’t believe how good it feels, but it fades from you quickly. “It sounds… I think I want to, I just… I don’t wanna, like… do… anything.”

For a split second your veiled language mystifies him and then he realizes what you’re trying to say without saying. Something has changed since yesterday, when you brazenly referred to it as fucking, and today, when you can’t even say sex. He’s gotten as far as it being something your creepy neighbor said. Maybe. He needs to know what. 

But that’s not the topic at hand. 

“We don’t have to. I didn’t mean to imply that we would do anything like that. I don’t expect anything from you.”

You swallow. 

“Okay. I wasn’t sure.”

About what?

He says your name. No response. 

“Can you look at me, please?”

It takes you a moment, and your head raises like you might need some oil in your hinges, but eventually you manage. Spencer hopes the way he’s rubbing your leg is comforting. 

“You know I’m never, ever going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, right?”

To his horror, your answer isn’t an immediate and resounding yes. Instead you look back down and cover his hand with your own, fiddling nervously with his fingers. 

Eventually, you reply, “Yeah… I know. I just thought… I’m not sure. Maybe it’s supposed to be different now.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Nothing has to be different. We’re still doing everything on your schedule, okay? And as for the next few days, at least—I think it might be a good idea to take sex off the table altogether.”

Your eyes narrow and you hesitate. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you worrying about it. And I don’t think it would feel good for you right now. I think there are things we need to talk about, but… we’ve probably tried enough for a while, hm?”

You give him a shy nod and hum your agreement. For a moment he lets his hand linger on your leg and then pulls it back. 

“Okay. Do you want my help packing a bag, or should I wait out here?”

“You can wait. It should only take a minute.” You pause, halfway up to look pensive. “Um, Spencer—do you think it would be okay if maybe I… if I stayed tonight and tomorrow? I just—I wanna get out of here, for a bit.”

He frowns but doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Can I ask why?”

“It’s just… suffocating sometimes,” you call as you turn and hurry down the hallway to the bedroom. “Feels like my neighbors are on top of me, like they’re… breathing down my neck, half the time.”

Sure, bigger apartments exist—but it’s not like you’re in a studio. And you’ve never mentioned feeling that way before. That bad feeling is starting to come back—like you’re not telling him something he needs to know. But is it worse to let you deal with it yourself until you’re ready to talk or to force it from you?

A few minutes later you return, a duffel of your own over your shoulder and full to bursting. 

“So I’m an idiot. My phone was literally in the pocket of my jeans on the floor.” You drop the bag as you bend down by the door to pull on your favorite slippers. “Oh—I think I forgot my charger, can you grab it? It’s by my bed.”

Spencer of course obliges, and is secretly pleased to be in your room again, in the light this time, so he can see better. It’s sweet. The pictures on the walls, the plants and the knickknacks and the sticky notes scrawled with messy reminders on every surface and the sweater hanging over the back of a chair—the one you’d been wearing at the cafe all those months ago—it all feels so you. He wonders why the two of you don’t spend more time here. 

He lets himself linger for only a minute before remembering his task, but as he reaches down to unplug your charger, whatever dopey smile he’d been wearing evaporates. The sheets have been stripped from your bed, and he can see why—there’s a striking stain of dried blood, and several surrounding dots, soaked into the mattress. Not much, but enough to make him feel horrendously guilty. He cringes, imagining what it must’ve been like to wake up all alone to nothing but your own blood. Poor girl. Of course he’d noticed some, last night when he was doing his best at cleaning you up, but it had been dark, and he was exhausted, and he hadn’t done enough. 

“Where’d your sheets go, baby?” He asks once back by the front door with his own bag on his shoulder, setting a gentle hand on your lower back and holding out your charger for you. You jump slightly, and he makes circles on your back, wishing there was something he could do to settle you. 

“Oh! They—they got ruined. I threw them out. It’s fine. I have others.”

So you didn’t have enough energy this morning to walk a few feet to your shower, but stripping your bed, getting dressed, and walking down to the trash chute at the end of the hall had been top of your priority list. 

You swallow as he undoes the locks and holds the door open for you, and pretend like you’re not doing surveillance to either side as you stand in the hallway, locking your door again like you can’t get out of here fast enough. 

Spencer casts a sidelong glance at you and wonders if you’re intentionally avoiding eye contact. He tries not to think like a profiler. He tries not to assign meaning to your actions, but he can’t help it. He can’t not notice. 

He can’t not worry. 

And he can’t not wonder what you’re not telling him. 

-

part nine

[irndad]

walter- s.r.

a/n: can be read as a stand alone!! but this is in the same universe as "in every other life", when they're still in the pining phase, if you want to see them end up together read that one!

“Your middle name is Walter?”

She’s grinning like the Cheshire cat, a grand grin spread across her lovely features. Spencer in both equal measures embarrassed by her question and charmed by her disposition. 

She’s beautiful today, dressed smartly and her dainty fingers almost brush his on his desk as she stands over him. He can smell her perfume, sweet and pleasant. He wants to hold her hand. 

“Who told you that?” He ask, trepidation seeped in his tone. 

“Walter?”

Shame licks at his spine, a familiar sense of embarrassment and rejection looming. He liked his name fine- his mother often would tell him that it’s a sturdy, honest name. He liked it because his mother had liked it, but Spencer he is under no illusion that it Spencer Walter Reid is a particularly attractive name. 

He does like how she says his name, though. 

There’s ways she says it. When she’s at work, she always asks him questions punctuated by his name. What do you think is right, Spencer? What do you think, Spencer? 

It’s lovely to be acknowledged. She has so much intentionality, her doe eyes trained on his with fondness and something like respect. Sometimes, he imagines that she likes him. How he likes her. 

They spend Friday nights together sometimes, when she said that she’s been working through a Doctor Who rewatch- 

“Morgan must have told you,” he muses, fond despite his insecurity. She looks like she’s found out a secret about him, like there’s some conspiracy that has now lost, and now she knows his middle name. 

“It’s cute!” 

Cute is not dreamy- it’s not the romance novel cover that she left on her desk one time (which she’d be mortified if she knew he’d seen) and cute is certainly not boyfriend material. Not that he has a shot at that, but still- he’d like to be an option. 

Spencer juts out his bottom lip in a pout he can’t control. 

“It’s not cute! It’s a very masculine name. I believe its origin is in Olde English.”

“Spencer,” she says, and leans down to his level, and she’s so close to him. SHe’s been this close before- hazy nights under the light of his cheap lamp, when she’s fallen asleep on his couch. He’s not sure she’s told anyone about those nights, about the moments where time slips into the ether and becomes something else entirely. 

“Spencer Walter Reid,” she says, pausing with intention on every piece of his name. He’s never liked it this much, his name. She’s leaning in at the office, which means that she probably won’t kiss him, but he thinks about it. She’s never kissed him before- they’re friends, he needs to remember that. It’s hard to sometimes.  He tries not to stare at her lips. “Your name is just the tip of the iceberg of things that are adorable about you.”

He feels himself involuntarily flush a bright red. It’s not enough to be adorable to her- he’d like to be attractive, like to be the thing she pictures at night when she’s scared of the dark. He wants to be her solace, the person she find comfort- light, love in. 

Adorable is good too, though. He’ll take what he can get. 

[drefear]

‘Nasty’ By Russ

Summary: Miguel finds something out about you through your recent music choices.

TW: praise, jealousy, smut, praise p in v fantasy, masturbation

You and Miguel started dating fairly recently, and he was so happy about it. He told Jess by accident while discussing you beating up an anomaly, and he just laughed and said ‘I knew it.’

His heart explodes when you’re around and can’t help but see stars.

You’re sitting with Jess and Gwen when he is about to ask you about a report you filed when he hears a conversation he was not prepared for.

“I never even knew he existed.” Gwen said to you, making you laugh.

“Oh, she loves him. It’s almost obsessive.” Jess emphasizes and you blush, rolling your eyes.

“I just- I like- it’s like-“ you stutter and Gwen nods.

“I get it, he’s kinda hot and he’s obviously got some skills, so imagining what he could actually do in bed is totally fair.” That was it, Jess’s words made Miguel’s blood boil. Who else were you trying to sleep with?

His eyes perked up as he walked away and passed you to his office area. You two weren’t in a committed relationship, he had no claim over who you thought about or saw when you weren’t with him, yet it made his blood boil and tension appear between his shoulder blades. He’d long forgotten about the question he was going to ask you about as he summoned you to where he was.

You two were mature adults, you could discuss your feelings without being childish and assuming the worst. Plus, Miguel technically already knew the answer to the question, or so he thought.

You walked up with a bounce before seeing the stress between his eyebrows and frowning gently, something he disliked on that beautiful face of yours. “What’s wrong?” You spoke softly and placed a hand on his arm.

“I need to ask you something and I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable, but I just need to know the truth.” He prefaced and you felt a knot of anxiety form in your gut. “Are you seeing anyone else?” He searched his eyes over your features and found nothing to give away your thoughts until a bright smile formed on your lips and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “This isn’t funny.” He huffed like a petulant child, which made you giggle more.

“Miguel O’Hara, are you jealous?” You teased and poked his bicep, making his nose twitch in self awareness which turned into embarrassment. “No, I’m not seeing anyone else. Who could compare to you?” You smiled wider and slid your hand up his arm to his shoulder, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck. His hand fell to your hip and he sighed happily at your touch, but confusion was still evident in his expression. He hummed and you smirked, “Are you? Because if so, I’ll fight her for ya.” You teased and he let out an exasperated chuckle.

“No, not at all. I’m all yours, now dame un besita.” He demanded and you obliged, giving him a soft and sensual kiss.

Letting go of him, you walked towards the door, “How about we hang out tonight? Stay in and order tacos?” You mused and he nodded, sitting back and sighing. You still felt like something was wrong, but you’d discuss that later when you two were alone and could focus without the hovering threat of work surrounding you.

Once you were gone, Miguel instructed Lyla to dig into you and find any other man you could be seeing. Once your glow faded from his presence, the idea hit him hard like a punch to the chest. You’d just lied to him, to his face, and with a smile.

Never once while dating you had he gotten the impression that you were a liar. Actually, he’d found that sometimes you were too honest, so this was more than shocking to him.

He was so focused on some of the videos Lyla had been finding that he didn’t even hear Jess approach from behind him and start asking questions.

“Earth to O’Hara!” Her hand waved in front of his hand and he snapped his eyes to her, relaxing once he realized who it was. “What’s got you so zoned out?” She peaked over his shoulders to see the videos of you being flirted with in a coffee shop, then sighing in disappointment. “Stalking? Really?”

“She lied to me.” He deadpanned and swiped to another video, frustration setting on his lips.

“About what?” Jess inquired in surprise and he glared at the pregnant woman to his side.

“You already know, don’t play dumb.” He hissed, then gained a cold glare from Jessica, “I heard you talking with her and Gwen about another guy in the cafeteria earlier.”

“Another guy?” Jess gapped and then doubled over, laughing so hard she felt tears forming. “You are so stupid sometimes!” She choked out.

“Que?” He flashed an angry expression, bewildered at her name calling.

“That wasn’t about a guy she met, it was about some singer she was listening to. He released a song in her universe and she’s all hot from the lyrics.” She explained, smiling still. “You were worried about her fucking around with some other dude? No, she was talking about how she was imagining you.” She waved her hand and turned to leave, “It’s called Nasty by Ross, by the way. Give it a listen, if you want to know what she likes.” She let out a few more laughs before shutting the door behind her, leaving Miguel speechless.

His hands flew to his keyboard without a second to spare and he lowered the speakers. What did she mean by hot?

As the chorus rang out quietly, he realized what she meant.

Oh.

His tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth as the words made his imagination come to life.

“Show me where you wanna take it

Grab the headboard, hold on tight

I think we 'bout to break it”

His eyes widened as he felt himself twitch against his suit, the technologically woven fabric straining against his half hard erection.

You liked this…?

He had touched himself to the thought of you before, but he never imagined if you’d been into anything specific. You came off as a girl who liked things simple, and for lack of a better word, vanilla. He thought you’d prefer missionary and soft “oh god” moans, nothing too drastic. Something he’d feared was scaring you away with his fantasies of biting you and drilling into you hard on his kitchen counter, or fucking you over his balcony.

So this was a very welcomed change.

His head ran wild with the ideas of what you’d want him to do. Listening to how this singer directed the song, it seemed like you wanted someone dominant with a gentle touch, you wanted to hear how good you could make him feel, you wanted him to give you a display of his strength while still keeping a calm head and fucking you until you fell apart on him. Soft, but firm.

He couldn’t help but inwardly break a bit to the visualization that formed behind his eyes, your delicate fingers toying with your clit as he watched, face creased as your nose scrunched from the tension you’d started in yourself, grinding into your cute little hands as his slowly guided his hand up and down the shaft of his dick.

He’d bend down just to flick his tongue against you. Just once. Just a tease, a taste, a smell.

God, how he wanted to smell that pussy. To inhale your scent until he was completely overwhelmed and covered by it, then moving to shove his tongue into your aching core and retracting it.

He wanted to watch you clench and grip around nothing, your body practically calling out to him without making a sound.

Miguel wanted to shove his tongue so deep inside you that you’d think it had a mind of its own.

His hand reached out to his desk as he sat down in a chair he almost never even used, letting the blue around his groin dissipate and freeing his cock as it slapped against his abdomen. His fingers pressed a few buttons to close his doors and have his watch on ‘do not disturb mode.’

“She said, "Spank me, that's the only way I learn"

I said, "Okay, good girl, good girl"

His tongue licked his lips as he thought of you from behind, face in his pillows as he caressed his hands up your ass, then planted a smack against your smooth skin. He’d watch the muscle jiggle and redden from the impact of his slap, admiring the soft mewls you’d make for him. Words fell from his mouth like dripping honey.

“That’s it, good girl, buena niña,” He mumbled and let out a relaxed sigh.

“I know everyone wants a pretty girl like you

You look so good when you put me inside you

Listen

There ain't nothin' like that moan when the tip's in

Good God

Look at you, you're doin' such a good job”

The song painted a vivid picture for him about how you wanted him to treat you, to love you. He inhaled sharply as he saw the image of your ass in the air, pussy fully exposed for him as he nestled the head of his cock against your folds and rubbed against you a few times, gathering your sticky mess to soak him before pushing in just the tip. The hiss he let out when he saw this in his head was almost pornographic, groaning as he rutted into the fist he didn’t know that he wrapped around his cock. More aware now, he spit into his palm and continued rubbing himself as he completely indulged. His mind continued its dreams of you, gripping his headboard as he pushed into you and bent down so your back was completely pressed to his chest, his lips kissing the underside of your jaw and whispering in your ear, whispers he didn’t know he was speaking out loud.

“Taking my cock so good, mi amor, such a perfect cunt for me to sink into, like a champ.” He growled and felt his lips twitch, so close to cumming at the idea of you pushing backwards and wanting to take more of him.

“Girl you're mine now, you were made for me

Cum for me baby, you don't gotta wait for me,”

Miguel’s fangs dug into his bottom lip as he tried to muffle his loud animalistic sounds, thinking about you so asking and tightening around his cock, fucking your through your orgasm as he watched a creamy ring form around his dick. The vision made his saliva pool on his tongue and he swallowed it, along with his words.

“Te ves tan hermosa así, solo para mí.” He grunted in Spanish and felt the tension growing in his dick, his orgasm briefly blinding him as ropes of cum shot from his cock, more than usual as he heaved in heavy pants.

You were so fucking beautiful and as he opened his eyes again, his spent still dripping down his own abdomen, his sight caught the current video feed of you.

You, hiding in a corner as you listened with your ear pressed against his office wall and your hand in your suit as you touched yourself.

“No fucking way.” He whispered to himself, catching his breath once more. Miguel looked around and had an idea. Poking his watch a bit, he called you.

“Y-yes?” Your voice was shaky, which he smiled at darkly.

“I need you to bring me some towels. I had a spill in my office.” He spoke, leaning back and watching the cameras ss your body shook and he could hear you gasping through your receiver.

“Be there soon…” you whimpered and he just laughed.

“Just get here quick, so I can replace that hand in your pants with my face, ok pretty girl?” His voice dropped and you let out a moan.

“Y-yes…!” You nodded frantically and swung to get what he needed, making him smile as he leaned back once more in his chair.

Part 2

[yohanseyebrowmole]

Indelible | Jacaerys Velaryon

(adj. impossible to erase or forget)

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader

Sum: Jacaerys realises he should have listened to you and told everyone about the two of you too late...

Or was it too late?

or in which

Jacaerys breaks up with you two years after secretly dating you, and you get wind of his potential engagement to your cousin the heir to your family's company.

Word count: 3,692 (give or take:/ I edited it and wasn't bothered to recheck the wc)

Warnings: idk nothing much. I tried to avoid using y/n but ended up using it like thrice (I think)

a/n: Reader's mother is the second child of a huge businessman and took on her husband's name upon marriage, but has business ties (her maiden name is Dayne but its not a big deal). Reader's father is a well-respected lawyer but it's not relevant. Jace is heir to the Targaryen family business. He's a little slow and doesn't connect dots until later on lol.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

☆ Loving Jacaerys Velaryon was easy.

Keeping the fact that you loved him a secret was the hard part.

Two years.

For two years, you loved Jacaerys, and now you are hearing that his family was actively trying to set him up with your cousin.

What’s worse is that it makes perfect sense for them to get together.

Jacaerys is set to inherit the family company from his mother and your cousin is set to inherit your family's company from your uncle.

Why did he want to keep your relationship a secret in the first place? You didn't know, but you respected his decision nonetheless.

But two years of not being able to tell anyone?

You wanted to tell your parents and your older brother, you wanted to gossip with said cousin about your relationship, but Jace remained steadfast in his decision not to tell anyone.

He probably got fed up with you asking to become public and broke up with you, at least that was what you originally thought.

Two years of dates and I love you's gone just like that, all because Jace wanted to keep your relationship a secret and you were tired of not being able to tell anyone.

You had no interest in your mother's family company to be honest. No care for business or the likes, your interest is and will always lay within anthropology.

You loved it.

It was the perfect balance of history, science and mystery and everyone who knew you knew how much you loved a good mystery.

You loved the drama and the slight chaos whenever you got called in, and they say they found a body and having to find out what happened to it.

What was their story? What were they like? What was their life like? How did they end up like this?

Sometimes, it was a simple burial. Sometimes, it was an accidental death.

The murders were always the most interesting.

Of course, as an intern, you were usually not always assigned to the murder cases, but you always accepted any that came your way.

You loved the hunt, your curiosity always getting the best of you and the sense of relief, pride and justice that filled you once you found the identity of who was lying in front of you and who was responsible for it was always worth it.

You loved finding clues that helped catch the one responsible for the person's death, and being able to give families closure after their loved ones went missing was rewarding to you.

Yes, it was confronting and disgusting at times like the time a body was found at the landfill and you had to sift through weeks of rubbish to find missing bones (you were sure you would never be able to smell anything other than rotten food ever again) but you loved it regardless.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

You were once again sitting in the library at your corner.

It was one of your favourite spots on campus.

The window provided a perfect distraction when she needed a little break from her work. It was far enough from the other tables that no one bothered her but close enough that she could watch people go about their day when she was bored.

The shelfs also obscured their line of view of the table giving you privacy was always an added bonus. 

“Having fun, pretty girl?”

You blink, shifting your gaze away from the window where you had been watching what seemed to be a very heated fight between a couple. You smile at your boyfriend. 

“Hey,” You said. “You're here earlier than normal.”

Jace sits down next to you, letting his bag drop from his shoulder onto the floor.

“Finished early.”

“You look tired,” you said, taking note of the light dark circles under his eyes. 

“Cause I am,” Jace groans, leaning into you. He practically shoves his face into the crook of your neck.

You shift sideways so he can rest his head comfortably and run your hand through his hair gently undoing any notes made from the wind outside.

“You should go home and sleep if you're tired, Jace.”

“Don’t wanna,” Jacaerys responds, not bothering to move his head from the crook of your neck. “Just wanna be here with you.”

You can’t help the upward tug of your lips.

“Careful Velaryon, someone might assume that you're obsessed with me.”

Jace huffs out a laugh, finally lifting his head and sitting back. 

“They would assume correctly. What are you doing later?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug. “But it seems like you know what I’m going to do.”

Jace grins, grabbing his bag from the floor and digging around it before pulling out two tickets. “You are going to go visit that new exhibit at the museum with me.”

“You got tickets?" You can't hide your excitement. "How? I tried getting them for weeks but they were sold out, I even asked mum if she could pull some strings.”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Jace smiles. "You were going to ask your mum to get you tickets?"

You shrug lightly, grabbing the tickets from him, inspecting them before you all but throw yourself at him, hugging him. You pull away but grab one of his hands intertwining your fingers with his. 

Jace nods along to your random facts about Egyptian history as he watches your eyes light up as you giggle and ramble on about the exhibit, squeezing your hand, bringing it up to his lip and kissing the back of it. 

You barely react to the affection, already gotten used to the gestures and continue talking about Ramesses the great and his military accomplishments.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Your first thought was that it was your fault.

Clearly, you must have done something wrong for Jace to break up with you.

You rack your brains for weeks afterwards to try and figure out what you've done wrong, but as you sit there in your little corner of the library, you realise you've done absolutely nothing wrong.

So then you wonder, why would he break up with you?

Was it because you brought up the fact of a public relationship more often than not these days? Did he suddenly think you weren’t pretty enough? Or were you and your random rants now annoying to him?

The tip of the pencil you had been using to draw snaps.

You thought it would be easy to get over him. After all no one knew you two were together so you weren't getting constant pity glances.

Turns out it was harder. Way harder.

You didn't have anyone to rant to, no one to lean on or cry to and you were practically at the end of your patience, about to call your brother and spill everything to him when you heard someone call your name.

"Oh my god finally!"

You turn only to be met with your best friend Baela, who coincidentally was also Jace's cousin. You smile at her, forcing yourself to push your previous thoughts to the back of your mind.

"What's got you so excited?" You ask her.

She plops down on the seat next to you.

“Why are you so hard to find?”

You laugh. “I’m always here Baela. You know that.”

She rolls her hands before leaning forward. You notice the glint in her eyes. Mischief. Her eyes were basically the same as Jace’s aside from the colour difference.

“It’s Jace,” she said. “Mum told me that Aunt Rhae was trying to set him up with Elise Dayne.”

You freeze slightly. “What?”

“I know! I was shocked as well!” Baela smiles, not realising the bombshell she had just dropped on you. 

“Elise Dayne?”

Baela nods and rambles on about how she had seen Elise and Jace on a date the other day and how cute they had looked together. You smile and nod along but all you can think about was this was why he broke up with you.

Baela leaves to go to class but only after after telling you everything.

She leaves and you sit there for what felt like hours trying to wrap your head around what she had told you.

Jacaerys had broken up with you only to get together with your cousin. 

You gather your things and walk to your car.

With your hands on the wheel you scream before you start laughing.

The laugh turns into choked out sobs as you let yourself cry for the first time since Jace left you.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Seeing Jacaerys walk into your family home with his family had not been in your plans for tonight.

Frankly, if you had known this very important and must not miss family meeting was to officially announce his engagement to your cousin, you would have accepted that case on the unknown skeleton they found last week or gotten your professors to make something up so you could have an excuse not to turn up.

Instead, here you are, forced to stand and watch Jace smile and greet your cousin and her parents. 

You stand in a corner next to your brother, tongue poking the inside of your cheek in slight annoyance.

You can tell the exact moment Jacaerys notices your presence. 

You send him an overly sweet smile and watch him falter, confusion and something else flashing in his eyes before he blinks and puts his mask back up, turning and shaking your mother’s hand.

He had always been good at that, pretending that nothing was bothering him.

Your mother smiles and turns to you and your brother. Your brother nudges you, and you quickly plaster a pleasant smile on your face.

“This is my daughter and my oldest.”

Your brother shakes Jace’s hand and introduces him. Jacaerys turns his attention to you. 

“Hi,” you smile, reaching out and shaking his hand. “Y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”

You watch him gulp, smile and greet you back.

You keep your distance and stay quiet the entire time the two families eat. You know your brother has noticed because he keeps sending you odd looks, but you brush them off, not bothering to pay him any mind or explain your current predicament to him.

What does bother you is Jace.

He keeps looking over at you, most of the time it’s short glances but sometimes you can feel his gaze boring into the side of your head as you answer the questions his brothers, Lucerys and Joffery ask about your degree, his mother occasionally asking a few of her own.

You make sure to keep your answers brief. Your degree was hardly dinner conversation, and you didn't want anyone's dinner resurfacing in any way.

You make sure to turn to him and give him a smile. He snaps out of his daze every time, blinking a couple of times before tuning back into whatever your cousin was talking about.

At some point in the night, you get up, telling your brother you needed to get something from your room.

You don’t notice Jace’s eyes following you as you walk away, and you sure as hell don’t hear him excuse himself to go to the bathroom.

You startle slightly as you feel someone grab your wrist. You don’t even need to turn around to realise who it was.

The soft scent of sandalwood tells you enough.

“What are you doing?” you hiss under your breath, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one had seen the both of you before pulling him into your room. 

Jace looks around, taking in his surroundings.

He can’t really help it. It was the first time he had been in your room. He notices the photo wall full of polaroids you told him about making and the string of fairy lights you had bought together after convincing him to go shopping together. 

“I didn’t know you were related to her,” Jace said.

“I told you who my mother was,” you scoff. “It was pretty fucking obvious Jace.”

Neither of you notice the person standing by the door, listening in on the conversation through the slight crack.

“Well you could have straight up told me,” Jace argues.

“You're arguing with me because I didn’t give you my mother’s government name? Are you serious? I told you her name, where she worked and what she did. I even told you she was helping coordinate that joint event with your mother! I couldn’t have been more obvious, it’s not my fault you couldn’t put two and two together!”

Jace opens and closes his mouth. It's not like she was wrong.

“This,” you whisper. “This is why you broke up with me? If you had known, would you have stayed? Would you have let me tell everyone that we dated?”

Jace winces at your harsh tone but otherwise stays silent, giving you your answer. 

“I can’t believe you.”

“You think I wanted this?” Jace said. “You think I knew my parents were gonna set me up with her?”

“Clearly you did since you refused to tell anyone about us.”

“That’s not -”

“Don’t,” you cut him off. “Just don’t.”

You sigh and shake your head.

“You need to go. Leave first, and then I can follow after a couple of minutes.”

Jace grabs your hand before you can push him towards the door. “Wait, just -”

“You need to go,” you repeat. “If you haven’t noticed your fiancé-to-be is down the hall along with the rest of my family and we both have better things to do then stand here and argue over a topic we already know our stance on. Also, I have somewhere I need to be.”

With that, you pull your hand away from his and walk away. He follows you into the hallway, hears you say bye to your family, and watches you turn to leave.

Fuck.

How was he going to fix this?

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Looking back on it, Jacaerys really didn't know how he didn't put two and two together.

He had met your mother on numerous occasions considering that she worked with his mother for joint events and whatnot.

You were practically a carbon copy of your mother as well. 

The hair, the eyes, the intellect. Everything about you screamed Dayne and his stupid brain couldn’t piece together the fact that you were related. 

How the fuck did he not know?

All those times when you had told him your mother was away on business and he had commented that his mother was gone as well. 

He groans, running a hand down his face. 

Rhaenyra, who had been standing by the doorway for the past five minutes watching her son have what looked like a mental breakdown, finally decides to make her presence known.

It was time to talk some sense into her son.

“Jace.”

“Mother.”

“Can I come in?” His mother asks. 

Jace nods and she walks into the room.

“Want to tell me what’s on your mind?” she questions. “Luke is complaining about your constant groans.”

Jace normally would have laughed but all he can do is sigh. 

“What’s wrong, Jace?” his mother asks again.

“I messed up,” Jace mutters. “Really bad, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

His mother nods, walking forward and sits beside him on the bed. 

“Why don’t you tell me everything so I can help?”

Jace looks at her, hesitates for a moment before the flood gates open, and he tells her everything. 

He tells her about how you two met, about your first date, about how he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, and you had been okay with that for a while.

He tells her how he broke up with you because she wanted him to get together with your cousin. 

He doesn’t leave anything out, and his mother just sits and listens to everything. 

When he’s done she stays quiet.

“Jace,” she asks softly. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jace forces himself to hold back the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

“I don’t know. I don’t -” he shakes his head. “I was afraid that you wouldn’t approve, and I didn’t want to lose her, but I guess it’s too late for that now.”

Rhaenyra reaches out and holds his hands. 

“If I had known you loved someone like that,” she said. “I wouldn’t have set you up. I would never deny you your happiness. Even if she wasn’t what I envisioned for you, I wouldn’t have made you leave her, Jacaerys.”

His bottom lip wobbles. “What do I do now?”

Rhaenyra smiles and whips away a stray tear from his cheek.

“Jace?”

He hums.

“Do you like her?”

“What?”

“Do you like her?”

“I love her,” Jace said. “A lot.”

His mother smiles. “Then what are you doing here?”

He stays quiet, blinking at his mother.

“If you love her, why aren’t you with her?” His mother said. “Go get her back, Jace. If you love her, fight for her.”

Jacaerys stands up quickly and nods. He grabs a jacket from his chair and is gone the next second.

Rhaenyra watches him leave shaking her head with a soft smile.

That foolish boy.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

You were on campus, specifically at the building where your professors kept the unidentified bodies that had been sent over after being found.

You weren't allowed to have phones near the workstations or the bodies and even if you were you would have never bothered to bring it up with you.

Who in their right mind wants to touch their phone with people juice on their hands, regardless of whether or not you were wearing gloves?

Not to mention that you would have kept having to change your gloves as well, and that would do your head in. 

Your phone was in your bag, which in turn was in your personal locker outside, which meant you had no idea that Jacaerys had been trying to get a hold of you for the past hour.

You had no idea that he was calling you or texting you to ask for your whereabouts. 

Luckily for him, you were slightly predictable. 

You had just finished writing down your notes for the Jane Doe in front of you and making sure her bones were locked away and secure. 

You swiped your student card into the security slot, and the doors outside opened. Smiling and waving to the security guards stationed outside the lab, you grabbed your bag from the the opposite wall, holding the lockers.

You push open the door and stop short.

It was raining, because of course it was. 

You put your notes in your bag and started walking to your car, which was conveniently parked at the far end of the parking lot. 

You had been too busy re-reading and protecting your over your notes while speed-walking to your car to realise that Jacaerys had been waiting outside waiting for you.

You couldn’t hear him call your name over the sound of the rain.

When the rain suddenly stops falling on you, you look up only to be met with the slight of an umbrella. 

You turn confused and are met with a panting Jacaerys.

“You walk really fast,” he said, slightly bent over as he caught his breath.

You just stare at him. “What are you doing here?”

He stands up straighter. 

“Uh, I came to apologise.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” Jace said. “For everything. I’m sorry for being stupid and not putting two and two together. For keeping us a secret and breaking up with you. I’m sorry.”

“Where is this coming from?” you question.

“I came to a realisation,” Jace answered. “I can’t live without you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

“I hate the fact that we aren’t together anymore. I hate the fact that I didn’t tell anybody we were together,” Jace said. “I hate being away with you. I hate not being with you. I hate not being able to hold and tell you I love you every day. I’ll do better this time. I swear it.”

“Careful Velaryon,” you say, stepping forward. “People could assume you are obsessed with me.”

Jace’s lips tug upwards, and he nods, closing the gap between the two of you completely, leaning down.

“They would assume correctly.” 

The world around the two of you fades into the background as he leans forward, his lips brushing against yours. 

The air around the both of you seemed to warm. You don’t know who leans in first, and you don’t care. 

All you cared about was the fact that Jacaerys was kissing you again. That he was yours again.

Your eyes flutter close as your lips meet, and the umbrella protecting the two of you from the rain drops to the floor as he pulls you closer.

You don’t register that you drop your bag to hold onto his collar and pull him even closer. 

You could have sworn lighting flashed through the sky as your lips met, but maybe that was you imagining things. You had almost forgotten what it felt like to kiss him. 

Those sparks when your lips touched his, that feeling of something more.

Of something real.

Your heart skips a beat

“You know you’re stuck with me forever now right?” Jace said as he pulled away smiling.

You laugh and Jace sees that familiar sparkle of light in your eyes. The ones that remind him of stars.

“I think it’s you that’s stuck with me.”

He grins leaning in to kiss you again. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you smile into the kiss.

A particularly cold and harsh gust of wind coupled with the booming sound of thunder breaks the moment and you shiver.

Jace goes to pick up the umbrella that had fallen. Luckily, the wind hadn't carried it too far off.

Your eyes follow him before they fall on your wet bag on the floor. The bag that had your notes. The bag that held the notes that you had been painstakingly working on for the past few hours. 

You scream, causing Jace to jump.

“You little shit! You made me drop my notes! I take it back! I hate you!”

Jacaerys laughs as you pick up your bag and hit him with it. He runs away as you chase him in the rain, cursing him out for letting you ruin your notes. 

You really wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Well, except maybe with dry notes. 

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

Thank you to my bby girl @icarusignite for pre-reading this and thirsting over Jace to an almost unhealthy degree with me ily<3

Go read her fics or else (this may or may not be a threat)

Written by Yor <3

[ohbo-ohno]

cuckolding - simon ‘sells his sperms’ to reader and her bf who’s infertile. they can’t afford ivf so the traditional way it is but just the tip and jerking off into her pussy. that’s what was agreed anyway

simon ends up taking whatever he wants from her because how can we fuck if we aren’t properly aroused sweetheart? let’s do a few rounds to increase the chances eh? she’s so desperate for a baby that she complies. she’s secretly into it even. poor reader’s bf :( watching her make out with this stranger and take his cock in her mouth too

hello beloved. im ghoapifying this. pls forgive me

smth about johnny having kinks that he doesn't want to admit to/doesn't recognize... him subconsciously looking for a way to get those needs met...... it's delicious

thinking about you and johnny deciding you want a kid but after months and months of trying with no results, you're starting to lose a bit of hope. the both of you get your fertility checked, and johnny is pretty crushed to learn that he's shooting blanks. makes your relationship a little rocky for a while tbh bc he becomes kinda obsessed with proving his own virility to himself

when you two eventually decide (through a mix of dirty talk, pillow talk, and very emotional conversations) that you want to try ivf, you realize pretty much immediately after that you don't have the thousands upon thousands of dollars necessary just lying around. it's johnny who consoles you when you realize you won't be able to afford the treatment, and it's johnny who decides that he's going to fix the problem himself

(ghost is looking for odd jobs when he spots the listing on craigslist. smth so terribly worded that he almost thinks it's a joke, at first. there's not a single comma used properly, it seems like every other word is misspelled, but the earnestness is clear through the screen. the request was posted five minutes ago, and ghost is the eighth comment - a quick glance at the other accounts shows him that he's the youngest by at least a decade)

soap and ghost message, for a while. soap is pushy as hell, asks for pictures of ghost's face and gets a few of his cock instead. says he's not sure if ghost is the right pick, since he looks nothing like johnny, but keeps messaging him anyway. simon is pushy as hell, asks everyday when they're gonna meet up, gets pissy when johnny keeps pushing it off

(soap sends pictures of you sometimes. they start out innocent enough, pictures of your face from your instagram or your side profile when you won't catch him with his phone up. johnny finds it easy to ignore the guilt he feels when ghost says send me one of what i'll be fucking and johnny does, sends a picture of you fucked out and face down that you had no idea existed. you're limp, slick and come dripping from your hole, and johnny can't help the way he gets hard when ghost's only response is one without your useless spunk inside her. she won't have to put up with it much longer)

when you finally meet ghost, you're unaware of all of this, of course. johnny had just told you he wanted you to meet a friend of his from work, and you'd been excited to go out for a night on the town with him. you'd found simon off-putting, to be honest, but he'd already said he'd be picking up the tab, so you just indulge in a few more shots than you normally would and stay cuddled close to johnny most of the night.

johnny only tells you the real reason he introduced you two when ghost says 'm steppin out for a cigarette, i'll pull the car around for you two and lumbers off, lighter already out.

ye still want a bairn, right? johnny had said, eyes bright as he wrapped his arms around you, kept you pressed close to him. simon can give one to you, to us. he's not even gonna charge us, bonnie, how great is tha'? you'd gaped at him a little, and he'd interpreted your expression as fear. hush, naw, don't worry, lass, i'll be there the whole time. promise i won't let him hurt you, yeah? we can even hold hands, alright?

the time between you sitting in a booth with your legs thrown over your boyfriend's lap and your back flat on your bed is a blur in your mind

simon is heavy over you, both of your wrists held in one of his hands as he ruts against you. you're drunk enough that you can't focus on much but the heat between your thighs and the long kiss simon has kept you locked in. he strips you easily, forcing you high up on the bed so you can rest in the pillows, forcing your legs around his hips so he can pin you

it's only when he pulls back to undo his belt and strip himself that you finally remember johnny is in the room too.

he's bent over the edge of the bed, hardly two feet away, and you can hear the sound slick sound of him fisting his cock, can feel the way the bed shakes just a bit as he fucks his own hand. you sort of whine, reaching out for him, soothed when his free hand links with yours, his own eyes a little wet like they always are when he gets so hard that his thoughts melt away

"eyes here," ghost grunts, big hand covering one half of your face as he forces your gaze away from your boyfriend and back to him. "you don't need to look at him. he's not the one gettin you knocked up, is he?"

you and johnny moan in tandem for that, and your eyes are wide as saucers when you finally look down at the battering ram between ghost's thighs, the ruddy tip of him leaking as he strokes himself.

"you're too big," you manage to gasp, squirming back.

ghost makes a sound somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, lining himself up with your drippy hole and pushing in without warning. you nearly squeal at the stretch, digging your nails into his shoulders and pushing against his thighs with the heels of your feet. your squirming doesn't stop him, and he doesn't give you even a second to adjust as he uses his weight to sink himself to the hilt inside of you

he makes you look in the eye while he fucks you. and he talks a lot - he says more while he's inside you than he did your entire evening in the bar earlier

you feel good, huh? this the first time you ever had a real man fuck you? yeah, the brat humpin' the bed isn't enough for you. bet you always felt empty when he fucked you, but he didn't even need to stretch you out before rutting here. a hand rubbing your clit, making you nearly scream from the added pleasure as he fucks you so hard that the headboards slamming against the wall. bet my seed'll take first try he grunts into your ear, and you hear johnny moan from your left. might even give you more than one, huh? have you fat and round with my babies, make him watch you grow and take care of you, if he can even manage that.

when simon finally comes, he fills you up more than johnny ever had. makes you wait to come until he does first, too, tells you that he googled it while pinching and twisting your clit until you burst beneath him, your cunt squeezing his soft cock as your eyes roll back in your head

(johnny cuddles you, after. he tries to fuck you but ghost won't let him, holds him back by the hips and squeezes his balls until he goes soft, spits i don't want your spunk fucking with mine. you gonna waste my time like that? thought you wanted me to fuck your girl pregnant? were you lying, johnny, or you just so fuckin' desperate that you'll break our deal? and johnny whines and cries but listens, holding you close and pressing his cock against your folds but never inside of you)

((ghost doesn't leave the next morning. doesn't leave the next week, actually. he fucks you every day, even when you insist that you're not ovulating anymore, that he doesn't have to keep trying to get you pregnant. the first time he eventually lets johnny fuck you again, he holds him by the hips and stuffs a few fingers inside you along johnny's cock, says she got used to me, johnny, we'll have to give her a little extra if you want her to let you fuck her again and laughs when johnny whines.))

(((he doesn't even leave when you take your first pregnancy test and get positive results. he rubs your back as johnny scoops you up off the ground, rumbles his own quiet congratulations. a few days later you try to hint that he can leave now, that you and johnny don't need him anymore. he doesn't listen, but that's okay, because you can't quite imagine what you would do if he did leave, how you and johnny would function without his rock steadiness - you're relationship had been a rollercoaster before simon, insane highs and terrible lows, all smoothed out when ghost came into the picture and started playing referee for the two of you)))

((((when you're eight months pregnant, you lounge in a rocking chair as johnny rubs your feet and simon builds a crib.))))

[wandaslittlebird]

Still Her Favorite

Mean!Mommy!Wanda x Puppy!G!P!Reader

After a day of misbehaving, Wanda stays home from work to punish her puppy, and her best friend Natasha decides to join.

CW: Puppy stuff (collars, ears, tails, etc.), plugs, mentions of spanking as punishment, cock shame, humiliation, teasing, safe word discussion, ignoring as punishment, illusions of cheating, jealousy, haha Natasha’s dick is bigger than yours

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Once again not the fic I promised but I’m working on it. Listening something washed over me this afternoon.

A/N: I’m going to be honest, I super don’t love this. But perfectionism is a demon that kills my ability to create, and I’d rather publish a bad fic than lose a good one to the demons.

“Now what brings a precious little puppy like this into the office today?” Natasha asked, circling Wanda’s desk to find you at her feet.

“She was being terribly naughty at home alone, yesterday. Sometimes mommy’s long hours in the office have her thinking she can get away with certain things,” Wanda explained, making no move to look at you while she was talking about you. Her ignoring you was your least favorite punishment by far. You could handle the spankings, the teasing, the humiliation, even the denial. But when mommy stopped talking to you or even looking at you, it was sheer agony.

Natasha smirked. She knew when Tony had said her best friend had requested to work from home today because she “had a new puppy that she had to take care of,” she had to come visit Wanda’s home office. And you did not disappoint.

You could’ve almost cried from embarrassment, kneeling in a dog bed at Wanda’s feet in nothing more than a pink collar and your puppy ears. There was a chain leash attached to your collar that Wanda had tucked mindlessly around her wrist. Your neglected cock was desperately hard between your legs, dribbling little bits of precum onto the fluffy fabric underneath you.

Natasha was surprised to find you weren’t wearing a tail, as that was typically one of Wanda’s staples. “No tail today, puppy?” She questioned. Unlike Wanda, she did look at you when she spoke. You wished she wouldn’t. Her green eyes sent shivers down your spine. You wanted Wanda’s attention, not hers. You didn’t answer.

“No tail today,” Wanda sighed, answering for you. She finally looked down at you with a harsh glare. “Do you wanna tell Tasha why you don’t have your tail in today, puppy?” The look she sent you cast your eyes onto the floor. It was bone chilling. When you didn’t answer, she prompted you further. “Where was your tail when I got home yesterday? Was it in your ass, where good girls keep their tails?”

“No,” you admitted shamefully, barely above a whisper.

“No it wasn’t, was it?” She scolded, returning her attention back to her work. You cursed yourself for not being able to keep eye contact. Maybe if she could see the pained look in your eye, she’d cut the punishment short and skip to the cuddles you so desperately needed.

Natasha's eyes lit up in surprise. You were typically so well behaved for Wanda. She couldn’t help but feel a spike of arousal at the thought of Wanda coming home to find you without your tail. Oh how she would’ve loved to watch that punishment. She couldn’t exactly see your ass from how you were sitting, but she was willing to bet it was covered in delicious little welts and bruises.

“You wanna show Tasha the pretty plug you’ve got in today, instead?” Wanda asked, wiggling her heel under your ass and forcing you up. Natasha stood expectantly next to Wanda as she forced you forward onto all four. You whimpered as you caught yourself on your elbows.

Natasha's suspicions were immediately confirmed when she saw your welted ass, clearly spanked raw. She wondered if Wanda had gone as far as using the cane on you last night. Oh how you would’ve cried. She felt herself growing hard at just the thought.

Wanda pressed the point of her shoe into your balls, wiggling her foot to provide friction. “Spread your ass for Tasha so she can see your pretty plug.”

You did as she asked, reaching back with both hands to better reveal the pink plug stuffed inside of you. “Mommy’s Girl” was written across the base in fancy lettering. The maneuver forced you onto your shoulders, face resting against your dog bed.

Natasha reached her hand down to touch you, stopping to look at Wanda, who nodded in approval. She pushed on the base of the plug forcing it further into your ass.

It was the biggest one Wanda had ever had you wear by a pretty wide margin. You’d cried when she put it in this morning, and the cruel sting had barely faded throughout the day. The simple sensation of Natasha’s hand was almost enough to have you in tears again.

“She’s a little sensitive, aren’t you, puppy? You’ve never had anything that big in your little ass before have you?” Wanda explained, moving her foot so the point of her shoe lightly caressed your shaft.

You shook your head into the soft fabric of the dog bed, holding back tears. The sensation of the two women’s hands on you, toying with you cruelly, was terribly overwhelming.

“Mommy’s dirtying her favorite shoes for you puppy,” Wanda smirked sadistically, nearly laughing at how pathetic you looked on the ground in front of her. She could tell the contact, after a morning of neglect, was overwhelming you. “What do you say?”

“Thank you mommy!” You cried, muffled by the plush bed your face was forced in to. “And thank you Natty for playing with my ass!”

Natasha inspected you carefully, running her hands over the raw swell of your ass. She didn’t stop when you winced and whimpered at the harsh contact she made with your sensitive skin. She leaned forward, peeking her head under you to get a better look at your cock.

She was consistently surprised by how small you were, especially in comparison to her. Even as hard as you were, your cock couldn’t have been a full 5 inches long. You weren’t terribly thick either, thinner, even in proportion, than she was. “Poor puppy,” she cooed teasingly. “I bet you can’t even please your mommy with a dick that little, can you?”

You naïvely expect Wanda might chime in on your behalf, but when she just laughed, your face burned red. You wanted her to defend you: tell Natasha that even though it was small, you had the sweetest, prettiest cock in the universe and she loved it. Sure she had to put you in a sleeve sometimes when she fucked you, but you were more than capable of getting her off. She loved your little cock, even if it was small.

But she said nothing of the sort. She simply laughed like Natty had told a silly joke.

You heard the undoing of a belt buckle behind you, and then your head was pulled back up by the leash. “Come here, honey,” Natasha instructed, motioning for you to stand up. “Let’s see how you measure up.”

You looked to Wanda, hoping she would come to your rescue, but she simply raised her eyebrows expectantly. For once, you found you didn’t want to leave your puppy bed.

You clambered to your feet, finding yourself face to face, dick to dick with Natasha Romanov. You blushed fiercely, looking down at the space between you. Where Natasha’s shaft stood proud at 9 inches, yours was a lousy 4 ½. Not to mention hers was twice as thick, ridged with strong veins up to the tip. It wasn’t so much that you were jealous of her, you just wished you hadn’t looked so puny in comparison. Maybe if you were 6 or 7 inches, this wouldn’t be such a humiliating display. Even if you just had a little more girth, her dick wouldn’t make yours look like a child’s in comparison.

Instead you stood there, eyes wide as you stared down at her, simply unable to speak. You wanted to defend yourself in some way, but what was there to defend? Her dick was superior to yours in every way. At least you were largely hairless in comparison. Then again, that just made you look more juvenile.

Natasha laughed at the stunned look on your face. “Wanda, I don’t think your sweet little puppy has ever seen a real cock before.”

Much to your chagrin, Wanda laughed too. “No, Tasha. I think it’s only ever been silicone and the pathetic little thing she’s got between her legs.”

Natasha moved to stand next to Wanda, who looked up at her, amused, from her desk chair. You watched in horror as she dropped your leash and grabbed Natasha shaft, placing a light kiss to the tip. “Don’t be rude, puppy. Tell Tasha what a pretty cock she has.”

“You-you have a very pretty cock Natty,” you stammered.

She smiled back at you condescendingly. “Thank you, puppy.”

“Now go lay down,” Wanda instructed, watching you pad over to your bed. You got back on your knees, helpless to do anything but watch the scene before you unfold.

“You truly do have quite the impressive member here,” Wanda said in faux sincerity. She lazily ten her tongue around Natasha’s tip in between sentences. “Maybe I’ll get a cast of it, for when I start to miss you. I could even get my sweet puppy to wear it as a sleeve, so she can feel what it’s like to have a real cock.”

“The poor puppy,” Natasha teasingly cooed, looking down at Wanda, “can she even get you off with that little thing?”

Wanda smirked, running her tongue up the underside of Natasha’s dick. “I have better luck getting off with a toy up that pretty ass of hers,” she teased. “I don’t even have to touch it most of the time. The little thing goes twitching and spurting all on its own.”

Natasha growled. “God, I’d love to watch her cry on my cock. Poor thing probably wouldn’t make it halfway down before the tears started flowing.”

Wanda chuckled again, continuing to lazily pump her hand against Natasha’s groin. “That will truly be a show. I can find a way to keep her mouth occupied, should she put up too much of a fuss.”

The two women continued talking, laughing at each other’s jokes, seemingly enriched in the conversation. All while Wanda casually played with Natasha’s perfect dick. And, most importantly, they never sparred you so much as a glance.

They talked about you, briefly. But the conversation soon shifted to other topics: work, travel plans, antidotes from the past. They seemed to go on and on in a jovial little conversation you were not invited to be a part of.

You whined and whimpered from your bed, jealousy boiling up inside of you, but you didn’t dare leave your bed. Even in a jealous rage, you knew the rules. You wouldn’t speak and you wouldn’t leave your bed until Wanda told you to.

You tried to remind yourself Wanda was just playing. You’d talked about this several times before. Natasha was by no means a new and unexpected addition to your sex life. But something about the way Wanda was genuinely smiling up at Natasha, her perfect dick in Wanda’s nicely manicured hand, made it feel like more than playing. You found yourself crying, tears falling down your cheeks as you tried to get their attention.

You were practically jumping around your bed, seconds away from running up and pushing Natasha away, when she finally said “Tony will be expecting me back. I told him I’d only be gone an hour or so.”

“Okay,” Wanda sighed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. If I can get the little one to behave. Love ya.”

Natasha zipped up her pants, shoving her hard on back down in her underwear. “Love ya. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And then, with all the audacity in the world, she bent down and gave Wanda a little peck on the lips.

When Natasha finally left the room, Wanda finally tapped her lap and whistled for you to come. You ran to her, nearly sending her rolling chair across the room with the impact. She caught you in her arms, gently petting the back of your head. “Shhh puppy, mommy’s got you. You’re okay.”

You whined pathetically in her lap, pawing at her shirt and leaning back to look her in the eyes. “You were just playing with Natty, right? You don’t really like her cock better, do you? Mine is still your favorite, right? Even though it’s little and maybe not so… pleasurable as hers, it’s still your favorite? Please tell me it’s still your favorite.”

Wanda giggled, calmly coddling you into her while you cried. “Of course your cock is still my favorite, baby. I was just playing with Tasha, puppy. Remember what I told you? I don’t like playing with her like I play with you. You're my special little puppy and no one is ever going to change that.”

“And-and you didn’t like kissing her either because I’m your favorite person to kiss and you were just playing when you did that,” you rambled.

Wanda eyebrows lifted in surprise. She straight up made out with Natasha in front of before for your enjoyment. She was surprised the little kiss set you off so bad. “Of course, love,” she said, pulling you into a kiss. “You’re my absolutely favorite person to kiss.”

“You promise?” You pleaded “Even though she’s bigger, and… and her cock is perfect. And she’s prettier than I am…”

You were interrupted by Wanda grabbing your face. “Hey,” she said firmly, “you’re talking about my special puppy right now and we’re not gonna use words like that, okay? Sweetheart, if it was really bothering you to watch me and Tasha like that, I need you to use your safe word, okay? I’m only playing, honey. And I can only do that if I know that you’re okay.”

You nodded. “I-I like watching you play with Natty, but you were pretending like I didn’t exist and I got a little scared that you forgot…” you explained. “You weren’t even holding my leash. You just… left it on the ground!”

“Oh sweet girl,” she soothed, “of course mommy didn’t forget about you, baby. We were putting on a little show special for you, sweetheart.”

“I know, I know,” you cried. “I was trying really hard to remember. But you were just so happy with her, and-and… I thought maybe you liked her better than me!”

“Would you have felt better sitting in mommy’s lap?” She asked, trying to problem solve this venture for the future.

You nodded. Everything is better when you can hold onto mommy.

She chuckled. “Okay, baby. How about this: next time you need my lap you just give my clothes a little tug. You won’t get in trouble for leaving your bed. If you start to feel any bad feelings, you can feel free to crawl up in my lap. Or, can you remind me of our word we use we use when we have to take a little pause and talk about something?”

“Y-yellow,” you responded.

“That’s right!” She praised. “You’re such a smart puppy. Can you promise you’ll use that next time we’re playing and you start to not feel so good?”

You nodded. “Yes mommy, I promise.”

“Good girl,” she cooed. “Remember that even during your punishments, you have the right to interrupt if something doesn’t feel right, okay. Not everything is supposed to feel good, but it’s never supposed to be too much.”

You nodded against her, wrapping your arms around her possessively.

She let you sit like that for a minute, cooing over how much she loved you, before tucking your head into her neck and wheeling back to her desk. She carefully moved her laptop away from the center of the desk, lifting you up and setting you down in its place. You hissed as your sore ass mad e contact with the hard surface. “Now, how about mommy takes a little break from work to show you how much I love this little cock of yours, and then you can sit on my lap and cuddle until I’m done for the day?”

You nodded, leaning back against the desk, bracing yourself as she spread you out in front of her. She nudged your legs apart, sliding herself between them as she took you in. She places gentle kisses up your thighs, ruining her knuckle lightly against your throbbing shaft. “Such a pretty puppy. You’re still so hard for me angel. Have you been waiting on mommy to take care of you all day?”

You nodded, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from whining. Your dick was so beyond hard by this point. It took all of your willpower to stay still on the desk.

She finally took you into her hand, gently massaging the precum from your tip. “Oh angel,” she breathed, licking the thin liquid up as it dripped down your shaft. “This is mommy’s favorite cock, princess. There’s never been a more perfect one in the world.”

“Really?” You squeaked. After an afternoon of neglect, her tongue immediately felt like heaven. You were struggling to keep your head upright, but she wrapped your leash around her hand, forcing you to stay. She looked at you like you were her whole world.

She nodded, slipping the tip of your cock past her lips. You almost immediately jerk at the heavenly sensation, but she was already holding your hips in anticipation. You weren’t known for being a patient puppy. She slid one of your legs up over your shoulders to give her better access.

Her mouth moved rhythmically around your cock, occasionally pulling away to suck on your balls while she stroked you with her hand. She went slow, but not cruelly so. She was taking her time with you because you were important. Because she loved you.

Your hands tightened around the edge of the desk, fingernails digging into the underside of it. “Mommy…” you moaned, straining against the leash.

“Mmm,” she hummed, lip still wrapped around your cock. The good thing about your small size was she could take you in your entirety without much effort. You could feel your tip nearing the back of her throat.

She moved her hands from your balls down to the plug in your ass. She tapped the metal with the tip of her nails, sending vibrations deep inside of you.

You whined. “Mommy it’s gonna hurt….”

“Aww,” she cooed, sloppily kissing down your shaft. “Is it gonna hurt when you cum baby? Is it gonna hurt when your tight little ass clenches around mommy’s big plug?”

You nodded. She pulled on the end of the metal plug, twisting it inside of you. The pain sent shivers up your spine.

“It’s okay, puppy,” she soothed, “Mommy’s right here baby. It’ll only last a little bit and then you’ll get all the cuddles you can ever dream of, okay?”

“O-okay,” you breathed and she sucked sharply on your balls. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, willing yourself not to orgasm too hard.

But Wanda seemed intent on ruining this plan. She masterfully guided her tongue around your tip before she took you down to the hilt, letting it hit the back of her throat. She switched her attention between fondling your balls and playing with the plug in your ass. It wasn’t long before you were ready to cum.

“You're holding back on mommy, aren’t you? I can feel you all swollen in my mouth. And these little balls are very full, puppy. Don’t you wanna cum for mommy? You’ll feel much better after,” she insisted.

Your bottom lip quivered. “I’m scared, mommy.”

She smirked. She’d never seen you so dedicated to not having an orgasm. Either way, your resistance was futile. She continued to toy with the plug while she skillfully sucked you off. She tightened her hold on the leash.

It wasn’t even a full minute before you were begging. “Mommy. Mommy please. Please mommy I’m gonna cum. Please mommy,” you pleaded.

With one final stroke, you came, spilling down her throat. She was sure to swallow every drop, treating it as if it were a holy thing she’d be loathe to waste.

The pain overshadowed the pleasure almost immediately. Your ass tightened frantically around the plug, futilely attempting to push it out. It hurt worse now than it had going in. You cried out, reaching out to grab any part of her you could.

“Shshshhhh,” she soothed, holding her hand in one of hers while the other stroked your forehead. “You did so good for me, puppy. You’re such a good girl. It’s over now honey. You can have all the cuddles baby.”

She slid back down your body, methodically kissing her way back down your stomach to your now soft dick. She took it into her hands, all shrunken and small, and placed a little kiss to the head. She nuzzled it with her nose. “Mommy’s perfect puppy and her perfect little cock. The softest and the prettiest in the whole entire world.”

“It’s all yours,” you assured, breathlessly. “Nobody else in the world gets to touch it.” You paused before giggling a little bit. “Except for maybe Natty sometimes. But only if mommy says it’s okay.”

She giggled. “That’s right, princess. You’re a smart little puppy.”

You nodded, letting her lift you off the desk and back into her lap. She grabbed a throw blanket from the couch and tossed it over your shoulders, using it to swaddle you into her chest.

You sat astride her lap, arms crossed over your own chest as you nestled into hers. She placed a kiss on your head, rubbing the back of your hair with her thumb.

“Get some rest now, puppy. Mommy’s got work to do.”

[kroosluvr]

aftermath

ERMMM this takes place after long winter au third semester.... it could honestly vary but i think sometime btwn 5-10 yrs. sumire is abroad, akira moved back to tokyo after finishing hs/college, goro is. around

SORRY ITS 5am again so ill make this quick . again

QUICK DISCLAIMER this is kinda like a lot of me projecting LMFAOSDOGKJSDHFK@#)40 so like dont read into this tooooo much bc idk royaltrio cld be insnanely ooc here but. YEA.

started thinking abt akira constantly calling up goro and sumire even after 1) goro dies (so they think) and 2) sumire distances herself post-third sem. i elaborate on this on my shusumi fic........ sorry subtle shilling

^ tldr i think these 3 kinda drift apart after the snowglobe world crumbles, that false reality that ironically brought them so close together..... back in reality, things feel Different (but this is Our reality right? why does it feel so strange now?) and so. well its just not the same, no amtter what

the. the “the love was there. it didnt change anything. it didnt save anyone. there were just too many forces against it. but it still matters that the love was there” tumblr post

even though they loved each other and knew it too, there was also some sort of looming feeling that it won't last - but it does, still. it exists, in some meaningful sense-

akira sees and thinks about sumire and goro in everything he does, his day to day life, worries about them, wants to tell them about all he's doing, wants to hear about what they're up to. so he does so by leaving voicemails (although in this case sumire changed her number LMFAO. he does it anyway)

in the same vein, sumire thinks about all the things she'd like to tell goro, but with no address to send it to, it's useless. but she writes them anyway - more and more as a solace to herself, conversing with the memory of goro in her head, making him live on in that sense. and with akira i think it's a little more subtle. here she's trying to find a coffee shop that measures up to lebalnc, and of course she doesn't. there's only one leblanc and only one akira. but yeah like in sumire's case she kinda goes these "roundabout" ways in her Missing Them. theres also the added thing of her wanting to be more independent (from goro and akira and kasumi and tokyo and etc etc etc. also elaborated on in said fic)

goro! i think there's smth so poignant about visiting your own grave (i wrote sumire doing htis in another fic. thats an aside) hair cut, mask on, no gloves, he's a different sort of goro akechi but not really in any meaningful sense either. he's just different. sumire leaves the scarf (i think w sumire, she learns from goro like. omg im blanking on the word. LIKE reliability..? thinking realistically? smth like that.) so shes subconsciously thinks oh ill get him something useful like a scarf to keep warm (and a lil more subtle on the love aspect). akira gets him a lovely bouquet, straightforward and honest w his love/adoration, never afraid to spell it out. smth abt goro needing to live a new life now but also he keeps looking back - but this time, there's love when he looks back. there's still love

a kind of "youll always have home with me" sentiment btwn these 3. even if we never return there, youll still have a place in my heart

like "i dont think ill ever have that kind of love again. but i had it once. and even if i couldnt keep it, its still important." THIS IS HARD TO EXPLAIN

anyway tldr theres just some sentiment w royaltrio w Wanting to move on but also holding onto your past, and learning how to reconcile with the horrible parts but also the tender and lovely parts. sometimes there's stuff you gotta leave behind and grow past, grow around, even if it's good. even if it's good, you still have to push forward. <- a lesson that i'm trying to teach myself currently so thats why this is very. projecting. LMFAODSJKHJKSDKW sorry im crnge goodnight

these notes are horrible dont read these.

[universalitgirlsblog2]

💗🌺YOU DON'T LIKE YOURSELF? CREATE A NEW VERSION OF YOURSELF💗🌺

💗INTRODUCTION

The world needs to accept as you are. no ! The world does not owe you anything. People do not owe you anything. We are changing everyday , we are always trying to improve ourselves. No person is the same person as he or she was from the day that they were born. Everything will be okay when you make it okay. Your life is in your hands. Nobody is coming to save you. Not your mom , your dad , your spouse , your children etc. You want your life to change? You have to change.

🌺CREATE ANOTHER VERSION OF YOURSELF ( ALTER EGO)

Beyonce says that whenever she goes on stage she is not Beyonce , she is Sasha Fierce. David Goggins grew up in poverty, gained alot of weight but then he lost weight and ran marathons. They all say to create a new version of yourself.

Liz said that she is lazy , doesn't like attention which comes from social media and stay her in bed all day but all this will get her nowhere so she created a new version. Somebody that is confident , uses her platform , goes after her goals , gets up and goes to gym and somebody with a very hard mindset and tough skin . You need to create a tough skin especially if you are an influencer or a celebrity.

If you start acting like your alter ego , you will become like her. Ask yourself . What does the higher version of yourself look like ? How does she / he look like ? What is she / he wearing ? Who do they date ? What is their career ? How do they spend their time ? What is their hairstyle ?

💗START TAKING SMALL STEPS TOWARDS GREATNESS

Before doing anything , ask yourself , will my highest version do this? If you are eating sugary food, ask yourself If your highest version would eat that dessert. If you don't feel like going to the gym , ask yourself If your highest version would skip gym or go to gym.

🌺WHAT'S YOUR PASSION/ BEST CAREER OPPORTUNITY?

Find your own passion . No one can tell you what your passion is , you need to find it .

God gives us passion because that's what we are supposed to do.

If you have no idea about your passion , what am I really good at ? Every single person is good at something . It might be as small as cooking, managing team or very much into social media.

💗GET HONEST WITH YOURSELF/ STOP SUGAR-COATING

You can't be always kind to yourself, sometimes you need a reality check . Also , ask yourself what your best version of yourself would do ? Go for walk. Listen to podcast.

🌺PRACTICE THE LAW OF ASSUMPTION AND TRUST GOD/THE UNIVERSE

Talk to God as if he is your best friend. Ask God and the universe for the things you want. Don't expect help if you don't ask for help. God puts people in our life to help us , to upgrade us.

💗LET GO OF TRYING TO CONTROL AND START TRUSTING THAT IT WILL HAPPEN.

Ask once , be specific and practice gratitude before asking. Start assuming like the world is designed for you to succeed .

🌺GET INTO THE MINDSET OF : WHAT WOULD THE HIGHEST VERSION OF MYSELF DO ?

You walk into a room , you have a meeting or a presentation. You feel nervous. Ask yourself : what would the highest version of myself do ? Shoulders back , walk into the room and start talking. Wherever you go , think that everyone is in love with you , it will make you confident.

You have to tell yourself affirmations . Look into the mirror and say " I am powerful . I am amazing. I am going to kill this day ." Ask God to help you and stand by me .

💗ACCEPT THAT RECOVERY IS NOT LINEAR AND BE GRATEFUL FOR THE BAD DAYS.

It takes accountability. Going through the progress of looking at yourself differently.

🌺FALL IN LOVE WITH THE PROGRESS , NOT THE GOAL.

Know that the bad day is a blessing. How will we appreciate good days if we have no bad days ?

If you want an expensive watch , the watch itself doesn't fulfill you , it's the process towards the watch & the anticipation. If you want to lose weight , going to gym regularly and seeing the scale going down, Feeling healthier and better. That is the process. That is happiness.

💗STOP TALKING ABOUT IT AND START ACTUALLY DOING IT

Do not tell anyone about your ambitions .Show them what you are doing .

If you tell big dreams to small minded people , they will never support you because they do not understand. They have not done it themselves

🌺DON'T TALK ABOUT IT UNTIL IT IS DONE.

The big issue with people is that they want to talk before it happened. Why are you putting evil eye on yourself?

" What people don't know they can't ruin "

Be private. You never know who is praying for your downfall.

Don't talk about things you want to accomplish before you accomplished them.

[nervoushottee]

Go For It | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve has been your “movie guy” at Family Video for a while now. Little does he know that the main reason you’ve been buying these movies is to flirt with him and just maybe ask him out…

Warnings: Steve being oblivious babygirl

Note: hey hottees! Happy New Year! I hope to be writing a lot more on Tumblr💗

(Possibly might be a Smut Part 2?? Let me know if you guys want one?)

——————-

The bell chimes as you enter the door of Family Video. A smile on your lips and an intent in mind as you walk confidently toward the front counter. “There’s my favorite customer.” Steve says to you with his signature smile.

Steve Harrrington, the “boy next door”, the ex- “King Steve” or for your case, “The hot Family Video employee that has a hard time understanding that you’re flirting with him.”

For the past two weeks you’ve been coming into the movie store in need of new movies to watch. The first time you came was truly because you were in need of something new and Steve in all his strong, beautiful and delicious glory helped you no problem with finding a comedy for you and your girlfriends to watch one night.

You could hardly understand half of what he was telling you about the movie when you were purchasing it. You were too busy ogling his toned arms and the many freckles across his face. You wondered if you played your cards right, you’d be able to see if there were any more freckles in other more delicate places.

The movie he recommended wasn’t actually bad and you jokingling made him your “movie guy”. You had said it to flirt and make him laugh but Steve took it seriously. He stood proud, almost cocky saying, “If you ever need a new movie, I’m your man.” pointing his thumb towards himself as you return the movie back to him a few days later.

You did in fact let him be your man and nearly spent half your pay checks each week to come in and buy movies. You would flirt and banter with him and Steve would laugh and banter right back with you.You could tell he enjoyed your company but you weren’t too sure if he was getting what you were throwing down.

One day, you came to return a movie and Steve was on his break so Robin did it instead. The two of you both knew of each other. Being in the same classes from time to time throughout the school years but you never had any mutual friends. You both talked as Robin ringed up the movie for a return and a calm silence covered you both.

Your rings made clinking noise with every tap of your fingers with the rhythm of whatever song was playing softly through the store speakers.

That sudden calm was quickly interrupted by an eager Robin.

“I think you should just go for it.” she blurts out to you.

You turn your head to see the girl staring back at you. Not too sure (you’re pretty sure) what she was referring to you tell her as such. “Go for what?” Robin looks back to where you assume is the back room door to see if Steve was coming out.

“Ask Steven out.” she whispers to you with an amused gleam in her eyes.

You peek over to the same door Robin had looked back at only seconds before, before you lean over the counter closer to her and whisper. “You think?? Because I’ve been subtly flirting with him for almost a month and he hasn’t shown much interest.”

The short haired dirty blonde eyes widen in shock, “Pfftt. Oh he’s totally interested. Number one, I mean look at you you’re gorgeous, I mean your pretty cool gal. Number 2, Steve doesn’t know if someone is flirting with him unless he’s the one that seeks them out. I know he had this “reputation” a while back but that ship has long sailed for a while and he hasn’t been doing that well in the flirtatious department if we’re being honest.” Robin says all this to you rapidly, adding finger quotation marks when she says “reputation”.

“And Number 3 and please listen when I say this. Sometimes Steve isn’t the brightest fish in the sea. If he was a dog, you would need to tell him that the bone is a treat before you give it to him or else he’ll think it's a friend and play fetch with it or something.” she finishes.

You try to take in all that she said as much as you could, trying to understand the innuendo she threw in at the end. Nodding at her words you eyes going unfocused as you get lost in your head in thought. After a few seconds you eventually grab the receipt Robin hands you.

“So yea I think you should go for it. Trust me you won’t be disappointed.” she says with a smile.

You tell her that you’ll keep it in mind and thank her before leaving the video store.

The conversation between the two of you was a few days ago.

But today, today was the day you were going to ask Steve out. You made the decision the night before. You put on your favorite outfit, listened to the songs that make you feel the most confident and didn’t forget to tell yourself some positive affirmations before you left. There was also a pint of mint chip ice cream waiting for you in the freezer just in case Robin was lying and this all didn’t go how you wanted to. (You were just making sure to check every box.)

So here you were at the counter that Steve stood behind as he leaned over to get closer to you as he spoke. “So did Jim and Janine like “Die Hard”?”.

Jim was your neighbor who you’ve known since you were young. Him and his wife Janine were in need of something new to watch and you offered to get them a movie. Saying that you knew a guy who gave out pretty good suggestions. Was it another excuse for you to show up at his job and flirt with the boy? Yes but your neighbors didn’t need to know.

“They loved it, it is definitely going to be a favorite for them.” you say to him. Steve is clearly happy with your response telling you as always that he’s happy to help.

You try to take a subtle deep breath to gather as much confidence and bravery before speaking. ‘Here it goes’, you think to yourself. “Aside from returning this,” you place both hands over the movie you placed on the counter. Rings clinking against the plastic cover.

“I am looking for something to watch for myself and I’m in need of your recommendations.” You say to him.

Steve nods his head, “No problem. Any genre you in mood for? Maybe a little action movie for yourself or a good comedy.” He places the “Die Hard” movie in the return pile next to Robin who you had no clue was even there until just now. You lock eyes with her briefly as she gives you a subtle thumbs up and mouths “go for it”.

“I think I’m in the mood for romance. Any suggestions?” You tell him softly.

Steve drums the table with his hand repeatedly as he thinks. You assume he has a movie in mind once he walks from behind the front counter and walks toward you. He places his hand lightly against the middle of your back and leads you toward the romance section. “I have a few movies in mind that you might like.”

The two of you are in the romance aisle. Between two shelves that cause you both to be a lot closer compared to the distance you were before. The front counter made a barrier between the two of you. But now you can see every detail of Steve Harrington. The small freckles against his arms, the sweet yet warm scent of his cologne as he passes you to pick up a couple movies for your suggestion. The tip of his tongue sticking out against his lip as he concentrates. Looking between each movie to choose the perfect one for you. Fuck, he’s too cute and you hope he says yes to your proposal.

“Here we are m’lady.” His voice brings you out of spacing out thinking about how cute Steve was. You smile to bring yourself back and hope Steve couldn’t tell you were staring at him and daydreaming. He raises two movies, one in each hand out to you.

“We have the great “Sixteen Candles”. A very cute and classic Rom-Com deal.” He starts to tell you about the movie, a short and sweet summary of the movie without giving any spoilers.

“And if you’re not feeling for that we’ve got “Endless Love”, a bit more of romance and with a good amount of dramatic flair.” He gives the short rundown of that movie without giving any spoilers for that one also.

You nod your hand and act as if you’re thinking of choosing one or the other. “Both good choices.” You say to him which earns you a beautiful Steve Harrington smile.

Here it goes.

“There’s a new movie that came out not too long ago. I don’t know if it's on video yet or if you guys even have it. It’s um- I can’t remember the name. There’s a guy works at a laundromat in the movie-” you start, looking a bit confused as you act as if you’re trying to remember the name of the movie that’s been repeating in your head about a thousand times since last night.

“Oh yea we do I think. One sec.” Steve walks further down the aisle and skims the shelves for the movie you were talking about. He picks it up and walks back toward you waving the movie in his hand. “This is the one right?” He hands it to you.

You nod happily, “Yea! That’s the one.” you look up at him smiling brightly and he’s smiling right back you. He asks if you were searching for any more movies and with a shake of your head, he leads you back to the register to cash out the movie.

Robin is no longer standing behind the counter but she’s acting as if she’s making herself useful. Stocking a few shelves with movies. It’s her subtle attempt to give your privacy to ask Steve out but still be able to eavesdrop on the whole thing.

Steve walks behind the counter and begins to ring up the movie, muttering the lyrics to the song from the radio in the background. You think to yourself that now is a good time as any to ask him out. You won’t get this opportunity again. Despite Robin teling you about Steve’s lack of dates, you doubt that’s going to last forever. I mean look at him, he’s Steve Harrington.

You clear you’re throat before speaking, “So uh-How many movies does a girl have to buy for you to ask her out?”

Steve freezes in what he’s doing, the movie in his hand as he stares at you. His eyebrows raised in curiosity and shock. “What?”

You don’t let his confusion or shock stop you. You’re on a roll now, you can’t just quit.

“This movie is still in theaters. It’s not that busy now but I still would love to see it on the big screen. Maybe instead of me getting this tape,” you grab the movie softly from his hands. Steve still so frozen in shock he lets you. You place the movie down on the counter and slide it away.

“Maybe you and I can go see it? If you want, that is.” you finish.

You look up at him sweetly and Steve blinks once, twice, a few more times. He swallows like theres a lump stuck in his throat and before he speaks, he nods.

“Ye-Yea.” he starts, his voice cracking at first before he clears his throat and shakes his head subtly to get shake himself out of it.

“Yea uh that’d be great.” He finally responds.

You smile brightly at him. You go on your tippy toes to reach over the counter for the pen that was in the front pocket of his jeans. You hear Steve gasp slightly before you go back to how you were normally standing.

You grab his arm softly and he lets you and you uncap the pen. “I’m free on Saturday but you can call me so we can figure out a time that works for you.” you say to him, writing your number on his arm. You put a heart and small smiley face at the end of it before handing the pen back to him with a smile.

You don’t let him say anything else to you as you say goodbye and begin to walk away. But that’s before you see Robin out of the corner of your eye who gives you a wink and a big thumbs up. You exit Family Video and walk a few paces before letting out an excited squeal when there was no one around.

You just scored yourself a date with Steve Harrington.

— — — — —

(Did I use Joe Kerry’s song as the title…maybe)

HEY HOTTEES OMG ITS BEEN SO LONG <3

Small life update, Im a working girlie so thats where most of my time goes and im way too tired to do anything else but sleep. But hopefully this year that changes!

I miss my friends on here and I hope to make new ones so please don’t be shy to send me a message!!

Hoped you enjoyed this fic of reader being down bad in need for Steve

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for calling my boyfriend out after a party after he very Frenchly insulted our cooking?

I (25M) am dating J (27M), and we live together. For the most part he's wonderful, super sweet, and perhaps the most French man living today. He's a walking stereotype, right down to the sexiness. He's Parisian (we live in the states) and has a huge obsession with wine and cheese, and I'll be honest, he can be pretty snobby. He was raised by some well to do old money family that disowned him when they found out he was gay and it shows. He has a few antiquated ideas of what America is like, especially when it comes to food. Anything that has roots he doesn't recognize gets criticized. It's a classism problem, we recognize that, and he is trying to work on it. He slips up sometimes.

We went to a housewarming party two nights ago. It was a potluck deal and I brought a beef chili I had been working on for like two days, it was my pride and joy, and J didn't even have anything bad to say to me about it.

Anyway, an hour or so into the party we went to get food. He had a few glasses of wine, so he wasn't quite thinking straight. It turns out somebody brought homemade Frito pie (and pretty fancy frito pie too, with jalapeños and sour cream and pico de gallo, it was amazing and delicious and I am still dreaming about it), I'm southwestern and it was a staple for me growing up so I tripped over myself trying to get at it. He noticed how eager I was and scoffed at me. I asked what was so funny, and he said it was baffling that I'd go for that first since it was "comically American, down to the fried chips riddled in it." I rolled my eyes and ignored him.

Turns out the friend who made it was standing a few feet away and overheard him. She told us that she worked super hard on making the chili and cooking the pie, and if he didn't like it, he didn't have to have any. I was so fucking mortified I felt like dying. I apologized on his behalf and we stayed for a bit longer, but I was so embarrassed and angry that we left about an hour after that. I couldn't make myself have a good time. As a bit of an apology I left our friend a container of the chili I made and said if she wanted to make a pie out of it I'd be honored, and she happily accepted.

This is where I may be TA. As soon as we got in the car I blew up at him. I told him that he disrespected my culture, my cooking, my taste, and worst of all, embarrassed me in front of a friend and insulted something that brought her joy. I said "if you see Americans as so lazy, stupid, fat, and disgusting, then why are you even living here? Why the fuck do you even wanna be with me? Am I just the only good one to you?" I was laying into him for about 5 minutes. It was the worst fight we'd ever been in, not that we get in many.

He got really quiet after that and just muttered out an "I'm sorry." We were silent the ride home and we went straight to bed when we got there. I even heard him sniffling when we were trying to fall asleep, which was heartbreaking and started to make me feel like I'd fucked up, too. He's been distant for the last few days and I feel like I need to apologize.

Do I? Was I TA? I just got so upset that I couldn't take it anymore. I really love him and I just keep worrying that any second he's gonna say he wants to break up, and I never want that to happen. Any advice is appreciated.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Survivor

Hi guys!

This is a new part of the serie "Lia and the Firefighter", from a request that you can find here :)

Please enjoy ♥

TW : Fire, firefighter, injury, smoke, explosion.

“Can you stop looking at each other like this?”

Katie talks just before rolling her eyes, looking at Lia and you. You were sitting around a big table in one of the Café loved by the team. You weren’t even talking to each other, to be honest. You moved your chair as close as Lia’s one, being a little behind her because of how many you were.

You like it that way though, like this you were able to pass an arm around her waist and kiss her cheek how many times you want without being seen by anyone. Well, unless Katie as it looks like.

“Don’t be jealous because Caitlin doesn’t look at you like this” you tease her back.

You see her arching an eyebrow, looking angry, but you also saw the corner of her lips tremble when she masked an amused smile.

“Don’t drag me to this” Caitlin, sitting next to Katie, smirks.

“Be nice, Pookie” Lia says to you, pinching softly your hip.

“Sorry”

You smile at Lia, flipping off Katie discreetly while kissing Lia’s cheek one more time.

“Yeah, be nice Pookie” you hear Katie mocking.

This is before hearing a sound that can only be a slap behind the head, followed by a growl of pain. No doubt, Caitlin asked her own girlfriend to stop teasing, in her own way.

Next to you, the others aren’t really paying much attention to you. Beth took Myle with her and it caught Alessia’s, Leah’s and Kyra’s attention right away. When Steph came with Calvin, it would have been utopian to hope for a second of attention from them. The dogs were happily eating almost half of the food the players were supposed to eat, but at least they were calm.

At first, when Lia proposed you to come and have coffee with her and her teammates, you said no when you learned that none of the girls' partners were present. You didn’t want to impose yourself on one of their times together, you know perfectly well that their agreement is essential for the good of the team. But then Leah grabs Lia’s phone and threatens to come for you if you weren’t here in ten minutes.

You don’t know what Lia exactly tells them about your relationship, but they know that you have irregular schedules and that sometimes you aren’t seeing each other for more than two days, especially when Lia is away for a game.

You miss her like crazy during this time, but you knew what your life would be when you got together. Plus, Lia is definitely worth the wait. And now that you are living together, it’s easier to have time together.

“Are you still hungry? Do you want more cake?” you ask Lia when you see that her plate is empty.

“I’m fine” Lia smiles.

“Another tea?” you try.

“Another tea will be great, thank you”

You answer her smile with one before getting up. You take Kyra’s mug when she asks you for another tea too with a smug smile, not without rolling your eyes.

“You are courageous to tease her like this” Beth comments to Katie. “She could crush you without even trying”

“Nah, Lia would protect me. Right, Wally?”

“Don’t push your chance” Lia smiles.

She loves the way you effortlessly slide into her group of friends, while still being yourself. Well, you are maybe not as clingy as you are at home, but you aren’t afraid to show how much she counts for you and Lia likes it.

Lost in reading the different possibilities of teas, you don’t feel your girlfriend’s eyes on you. You are in fact so lost in the menu that you miss a noise that you usually recognize in half of a second.

The explosion of one of the pipes inside the wall takes you by surprise. Like the other people you find yourself on the ground, needing several seconds before understanding what happened. The fire has already started and the only thing who comes to your mind is Lia.

You jump on your legs and look around, but with the smoke it’s hard to see through it. People are screaming and running around, and you really hope that Lia is already outside.

“Lia!” you still call, even if you know there is only a little chance for her to hear you.

She’s not near the table where they were seated, and you finally spot her a little far away. She’s looking around and you wonder if she’s confused and doesn’t find the exit. You’re too relieved to see her without any apparent injury to realize that she’s looking for you.

In two seconds, you are in front of her. Her pretty face is a little dirty because of the smoke when you take it between your hands.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

The Café is now empty, or at least you can’t see anyone because of the smoke. Finding the outside and fresh air is a relief for your lungs but for your anxiety too, you know that smoke can be dangerous for anyone, and you don’t want that for Lia.

You find the girls outside and after a quick mental count, you can confirm that they are all here.

You haven’t released Lia, trapped in your arms. She doesn’t seem to mind, though.

“Did you call the firefighters?” you ask one of the employees.

You nod when he answers that there is an automatic alarm, before lowering your eyes to look at Lia. She’s already looking at you.

“Are you okay?” you ask her.

She nods and you kiss her temple before taking a discreet but deep breath. She is okay, you shouldn’t be so concerned when you know that everything is fine with her. Your eyes roam the crowd while you’re waiting for the firefighters. You wonder who will come.

But then, you see him. A boy, who is maybe six or seven years old. He’s crying and a lady is trying to console him. You frown softly and you can’t fight your instinct, you want to comfort him too, explain to him that firefighters are coming and that everything will be alright.

“I’m coming back” you whisper to Lia.

She gives you a curious look, but you only smile at her and kiss her forehead, letting her go slowly before making your way to the boy and the woman you assumed is his mother.

“Hi there, Kiddo” you say, kneeling in front of him.

He looks at you silently, tears still flooding on his cheeks. But it’s okay, you weren’t expecting him to be better just because of your presence. You are on a day off; you aren’t wearing your uniform.

“That was pretty scary, yeah? But you don’t have to worry, my friends are coming, and they are the best firefighters in the world. It’s going to be alright, you are safe, okay?”

“Will they be able to save my mother and my baby sister?” he asks between two hiccups.

You frown, before looking at the woman near him. She gives you a sad smile and shrugs. And you are suddenly scared of what you are understanding.

“What do you mean?” you ask still calmly.

You don’t want to make him more upset than he already is. But inside, your heart is pounding.

“She went to the bathroom to change the diaper of my little sister. I didn’t want to go with them, so I was waiting at the table with my game and then there was this big boom”

You have to listen very carefully to understand what he’s saying between his cries, but you feel your blood freezing in your veins. You don’t see any woman with a baby, which means they are still trapped inside the building on fire.

“He was crying in the middle of the Café, so I took him with me” the other woman explains.

“You were right to do it. You saved his life”

You stand to look at the Café once again. Smoke is getting out of it; the explosion has broken some windows, and the doors aren’t closed as they should to avoid the air stirring the smoke. It doesn’t look good.

Your decision is already made.

You have to go back inside and save them. You aren’t aware that Lia heard everything and that she understands really quickly what is happening in your head. But you are quicker than her.

You don’t look back, so you don’t see Lia trying to run after you. You don’t see Steph catching up with Lia’s arm at the last moment, only thanks to her footballing reflexes. You don’t see that she needs Leah’s help. And you don’t see either Caitlin grabbing her proper girlfriend’s arm when Katie takes three steps to follow you, warning her with her eyes only.

Inside the Café, there are flames now, coming from where you supposed the explosion was. You know that place, so you don’t have trouble knowing where the bathroom is. But it feels strange to be near the fire like this without your uniform protecting you against it. The heat warms your skin in the most unpleasant way.

You cough a little because of the smoke but try to stay focused on your mission. Find the mother and the baby and get them out.

You decide to ignore the characteristic noises of the building, made with wood decoration, just before things start to fall from the ceiling.

The door handle is burning hot when you touch it to open the door of the ladies’ bathroom, but you grit your teeth and open it as slowly as you can, not wanting to create a backdraft.

“Is someone here?” you shout.

You protect your mouth with the sleeve of your hoodie, trying to breathe as little smoke as possible. But when you finally see the silhouettes of the people you were looking for, you kind of forgot this detail.

You kneel next to the woman, who put the face of her baby against her to protect her.

“Give her to me, I’ll help you”

She hesitates, probably a little taken aback from your look. After all, without your firefighter’s clothes, your tattoos and your appearance are probably more impressive. But she doesn’t have another choice.

You help her to get up and beacon her to follow you. The baby is crying in your arms but it’s a good thing for you, at least she’s still breathing and conscious. The smoke is darker than before and there are way more flames. It’s a little harder to find your way back like this and you miss your helmet very much.

You swear when you realize that a beam fell during this time, making it harder to get out. But you only have to look up to understand that there are way more beams who might fall soon.

You explain your plan to the mother. You stack several things to help her to pass over the beam on fire, before following her to give her her baby. And as soon as she’s outside, you look for other things to stack, because there is no one helping you from the inside.

It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe, between the smoke and the heat of the fire. You start to feel that your head is turning, and your reflexes are becoming lower and lower, which means you are running out of air.

You are able to jump to avoid the beam that fell where you were standing several seconds before. But then you fall backward and hit your head against the corner of a table.

The shock is hard, and you are out for some time. You don’t know if it is for several seconds or minutes. But then you hear the voice of your Commander, beckoning people in difficulty to hide under something. You know that the smoke is less strong if you are on the ground.

You finally lie somewhere under a table in the fetal position, not able to stay awake for more time.

********

You are startled awake suddenly, at least as much as you can be awake when you aren’t able to open your eyes. You hear people shouting around you and two big noises, like if someone suddenly had slammed two doors.

And then you feel your body moving without you able to do something against it. But with some thinking, you understand that you are in an ambulance.

“Her heart rate is stabilizing itself” you hear someone say.

Someone adjusts something on your face, and you understand that they put a mask on you to help you breathe better.

But then you hear a sniff, and you feel the person next to you turning in another direction.

“It’s going to be okay Ma’am. She’s safe now” another voice from the first says.

You don’t hear any answer and there is nothing but silence after that. But you, you feel your heart getting faster. Is Lia with you in the ambulance? What has she seen of you? How is she feeling?

“Her heart is beating faster again” says Voice One after the beeps of the monitoring get mad.

“What is happening?” Lia asks with a broken voice.

“Nothing to worry much about. Her body is adjusting to the trauma.”

Lia’s voice breaks your heart, and you try your best to stay calm. You don’t want to scare her more than she already is.

You probably fell asleep at some point, since you woke up in another place soon after. There is only silence there, but it helps you to try to understand what is happening. You can open your eyes for now again, or even move a single part of your body. There is still a mask on your face and a light weight on your hand to make you understand they probably put a catheter on it.

“Did you call her parents?”

You recognize Leah’s voice, the accent of the native of Milton Keynes making it easier for you. You are glad that she’s here for Lia, even if the other girl doesn’t answer something vocal.

“Do you want me to?”

There are some noises, and you guess that Leah probably just left the room. It’s hard to say how many minutes pass before you hear Lia moving too. You can’t see her but imagining her leaving the room too isn’t really pleasant for you.

On another hand, she could have her reasons. You knew from the first day of your relationship that your career might make her leave. You made a lot of decisions to protect her, even if she made you swear that you would never lie to her.

Today might be the day she decides that she has had enough.

But Lia isn’t leaving. You feel her stroke your knuckles and then your fingers. Her touch is comforting, like always, and you feel your body relax almost immediately.

Lia isn’t talking, but the comfort she brings you helps you to finally open your eyes. It’s hard to do, just like you are awakened in the middle of the night after a shift of 48 hours.

You look around and there is a flick next to you who makes you turn your head softly in that direction.

Lia’s green eyes are looking at you, unable to hide the surprise she feels when she realizes that you are awake.

She doesn’t seem to know what to say, but you do. You reach to take the mask on your hand, taking it off so you can talk.

“Please don’t leave me”

In your mind, you weren’t going to talk with a broken and almost cavernous voice, but you are. Lia doesn’t answer at first, taking the mask from your hand before putting it in its place.

“I am so mad at you” Lia whispers, coming closer to you. “But I’m not leaving in any way.”

You look at her eyes, knowing that she’s unable to lie to you in any way. And, to your big relief, she’s telling the truth. You feel your body relax again, probably helped by the caress Lia does now in your hair.

“Do you remember when you asked me to live with you? You said that you can’t imagine a world where I’m not with you”

You nod softly, not understanding at first where she wants to go with it. You remember, of course. You always have been scared to tell her how much you love her; how much you need her. In part because there are no words strong enough to say how crazy you are about her. But because you don’t want to scare her too.

“Can you please stop assuming that I’m not feeling the same way? I need you in my life too”

It’s another mystery for you, how you managed to catch a girl like Lia. And make her stay.

“Losing you would break me. Please, stop putting your life in danger. I’m okay with you working as a firefighter. I’m so proud of you because of it. But since now, you have to promise me to stay safe. For me. Please.”

She’s begging and it would be logical that she’s the one who should cry. But you shamefully feel some tears rolling on your face. Your throat is tight and makes it difficult to talk. So, you just nod and it’s enough for Lia for now.

She cups your cheek and wipes your tears with her thumb, before kissing your head softly.

“Okay” she whispers. “Now you have to rest. I’ll kick your ass later.”

You smile, even if you don’t know if she can see it behind your mask. 

“The baby” you whisper suddenly, remembering the family you tried to help.

“They are safe, all three of them. They are together. But please, don’t worry about the others. Worry about you now. Sleep, Pookie.”

You want to ask more questions, but your eyes are heavy, and you can’t resist much longer. You still can feel Lia’s presence next to you, helping you to have a real and deep sleep. She never left your side and finally doesn’t really kick your ass.

It’s finally your Commander who will do it several days after, even putting an advertisement on your head, making you do all the worst chores of the station when you will come back. It seems to amuse Lia a lot when you come back home, complaining after having cleaned the engines of all fire trucks in the firehouse all day long.

[parkerslatte]

Overlooked | Part Five

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: none

Summary: The day has arrived for Y/N and Eris to get married and she gets nervous that her sisters won’t show up.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue

•••

The day began with Y/N waking up early, not from excitement but from nervousness. She had reluctantly left the warmth of Eris’s arms and sat in front of her dresser. It was her wedding day, Y/N knew that she should be over the moon but the overwhelming feeling of dread threatened to take over. 

When Y/N pictured her wedding when she was younger, she always imagined her three younger sisters walking down the aisle before her before she stepped out in her magnificent dress prepared to greet her soon to be husband. Now she was not even sure her sisters would show up for her wedding. 

“What are you doing over here?” Eris’s sleepy voice interrupted her thoughts. “We still have a few hours in bed before we need to wake.”

“You can go back to bed,” Y/N said. “I can’t really sleep.”

“You aren’t having second thoughts, are you?” Eris asked, his tone teasing but once he caught a glimpse of Y/N’s saddened expression, his smile dropped. “Do you still want to marry me?”

“Of course I do!” Y/N exclaimed. “I just…it’s just hard. Not knowing if my sisters are going to show up.” Eris perched himself on the stool next to Y/N, his arm wrapping around her waist to keep the both of them on it. “I am marrying the love of my life, I should be happy but if I walk down that aisle and see that they aren’t there, I will feel…betrayed, if that is even the right word for it. I know that we were not the closest but they are still my sisters. We should always stand by one another.”

Eris pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to the side of her head. “My dear, if they don’t show up, then it's a huge reflection on them and their personalities. If they do not show up then they do not deserve your love. Because I know how much you love and I have seen how it sometimes hurts you.”

Y/N allowed her head to fall upon his shoulder. “I just really want them there, Eris.”

“From your last conversation, do you believe they will?” Eris questioned. 

“I honestly do not know,” Y/N exhaled. “My sisters seemed eager to get back to the Night Court so I can only hope that they talked to the others about the conversation we had, but I know how easily both Feyre and Nesta can be distracted by Rhys and Cassian. When they are around, it is as if I am not there.”

“What of Elain?” Eris asked.

Y/N sighed. “It’s more complicated with her. I know that she holds some attraction to Azriel but I do know that she has been in contact with Lucien these past few weeks.”

“How did you know that?” Eris asked. 

“While Lucien was here two weeks ago, a letter came for him but was accidentally delivered to me accidently. I would recognise my sister’s handwriting anywhere,” Y/N said. “To be honest, even if it is just Elain that shows up, I will be more than happy about that.”

“Even if they don’t show up, you are surrounded by people who love you,” Eris said. 

“And people who hate me,” Y/N said bitterly. “There are still people who work in this palace that cannot abide my presence, Eris.”

“And I am working on removing them–”

“And it is taking you too long!” Y/N exclaimed. “I am never allowed in any of the meetings because you won’t allow it!”

Eris stilled and Y/N regretted her words instantly. “Eris, I did not mean that at all. I am so sorry.”

“I know,” Eris said, his voice saddened. “And you don’t need to apologise because it is true. I could have gotten rid of those particular advisors months ago but I haven’t.”

“No, Eris, don’t do that,” Y/N said. “Don’t sit there and find excuses for my words. I shouldn’t have snapped at you at all, my love. I know you want to avoid an internal war within the court.”

At the term of endearment, Eris seemed to relax slightly. “You don’t need to apologise for snapping at me, Y/N. Of course I want you in those meetings, I cannot speak your ideas as eloquently as you. But I don’t wish to see the sneers and glares sent your way every single time you walk through those doors to the meeting room. Keeping you away is not something I want to do. It only reminds me of my father.”

Y/N lightly kissed his bare shoulder. “You are nothing like your father, Eris.”

“But leaving you out of court matters makes me seem like it,” Eris replied. “He never allowed my mother in any meetings either.”

“Unlike him, you allow me to have my opinions and words heard,” Y/N tried to reason with her mate.

“But through my voice, not yours,” Eris replied. 

“It doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, I know I am making a change in this court. I know I am helping those in need and pathing the way for a better life for everyone in this court.” Y/N cupped his cheek. The stubble was gone but Y/N missed it, she had grown quite attached to it. 

“The moment you become my wife, I will fire those advisors immediately,” Eris said. 

“What about the possibilities of an internal war?” Y/N asked.

“If that does happen, I have enough resources and allies that will win it for us in no time. But I cannot sit here a moment longer and take credit for the large changes happening in court when it is all you,” Eris said and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

“Eris I can’t let you risk a war for me,” Y/N said. “I am perfectly content to wait.”

“Y/N, you must already know that I would crawl to the ends of the earth for you, a simple war is not going to stop me from having your voice heard,” Eris tenderly kissed her palm. “You must know how much I love and adore you.”

“I know, Eris,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she leaned her forehead against Eris’s. 

“Let’s go back to bed,” Eris suggested. “We still have a couple of hours before we need to wake.”

And that is exactly what the pair did. Y/N fit perfectly within Eris’s arms, her back pressed tightly against his chest. His scent surrounded her and Y/N found that every worry seemed to drift away, even if she knew it would only be for a couple of hours. With that, Y/N managed to drift off to a peaceful sleep.

***

With her hair styled and her dress on, Y/N felt like the bride she had always imagined to be. There were multiple times where she had nearly cried off the colouring around her eyes. Now as she stood behind the doors, her heart hammered in her chest. She had not seen Eris since he was whisked out of their bedroom and into his own dressing room that morning. The only communication they had since then was the waves of love sent down the bond. 

But now, Y/N could feel Eris’s nervousness and she could feel his. 

There was nothing to be nervous about and Y/N knew that. She was marrying the love of her and life and having her dream wedding. Nothing would ever rival this day, perhaps possibly their mating ceremony, but even that hadn’t been as grand of a scale as this. 

“Are you ready, High Lady?” One of the maids asked, a bright smile on her face. 

Y/N let out a long breath. “I am.”

The maid smiled and straightened out her veil. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, looking down at her dress once more. 

The grand doors opened and the musicians immediately began playing. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from tearing up at the song. It was the same song that they shared their first ever dance to the night they met. 

Y/N’s eyes met Eris’s and her chest felt tighter. He was dressed in a suit similar gold to hers and had splashes of the gold dusting her eyes on his. She gasped at the sight of him, she had never seen him look so beautiful before. 

Even from the opposite end of the aisle, she could see the way he tried to hold in his tears. Her soul sang to his as she took her first few steps down the aisle. That invisible thread seemed to pull her toward him and she would gladly follow wherever he was. The male standing at the end of the aisle was the furthest thing from how others described him. He was loving and protective and the most incredible being Y/N had ever met. She was lucky to hold him in her arms every night. 

The closer Y/N got to Eris, she broke eye contact for the briefest moment to look around at all of the people surrounding her. Many were from other courts yet the hall was mostly filled with commoners from the Autumn Court. Y/N had invited the farmers, bakers and business owners. Families with children and without. This was not just a day to celebrate her and Eris, it was to celebrate the court itself and the positive changes it was making. 

Who she didn’t see however was her sisters. Her heart sank as the smile wavered on her face but once her eyes met Eris’s once more he nodded his head toward the back of the hall. Somewhere where Y/N had not even glanced at in the moments she began to walk down the aisle. 

There were her sisters. Each smiling as she walked down the aisle, Nyx in Feyre’s arms. Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel all sat beside them. Y/N locked eyes with each of her sisters and the smile on her face shined bright once more.

A small tap against her shields had Y/N immedietly bringing them down. 

You look beautiful, Feyre said. 

Thank you for coming, Y/N said.

We wouldn’t miss this, Feyre replied and she was gone from her mind. 

Y/N’s gaze lingered on her three sisters for a brief moment longer before she turned back to Eris. Y/N knew that she had to walk in pace to the music but in those last few feet she didn’t care. She passed her boquet to a Day Court official sitting on the end of the row and lifted up the front of her skirt as she ran to Eris. 

Eris only opened his arms as she flung her arms around him.

“You are stunning,” Eris mumbled into her ear. 

Y/N didn’t respond as she took a step back as Eris took her hands in his. As they locked eyes, Eris finally allowed a singular tear to fall down his cheek. Y/N released her fans from his hold and wiped it away. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Eris whispered.

“Me neither,” Y/N replied, bringing his hand to her lips and kissing his knuckles tenderly. 

Both Y/N and Eris seemed to be in their own small world when the ceremony began. Everything around them seemed to melt away until the two of them stood alone in the hall together. Eris’s hand shook as he held onto hers, it reminded Y/N of their mating ceremony, he was nervous then too. A small squeeze of reassurance was all it took to subside the shaking. A reminder to Eris that he was present and the whole spectacle was just a figment of his imagination. 

“And now the vows,” the officiator announced.

The wedding was more accustomed to a human wedding ceremony with elements of a fae ceremony sprinkled in to make it official. Eris wanted to replicate her dream wedding and he had done it to perfection. It was as if Y/N stepped out of her own daydream.

Eris let out a shaky breath before speaking. “Y/N, I will begin by saying that you are the love of my life. A love that I never thought I deserved.”

Eris took another breath and closed his eyes, as if he were begging the tears to stay at bay. “I will keep this short because you already know how much I adore and love you but I want you to know Y/N, that you saved my life. The moment you walked into it, everything was changed, the planets aligned, you saved me from myself, from dooming this court to continue under the way it was ruled previously.”

“You are my light, Y/N, a light I never thought would shine upon me. A light so bright yet I never saw it coming. You are my mate, my love, my wife, my whole world. And I will spend eternity loving you because it is what you deserve, it is what you have always deserved.”

The tears fell in rhythmic succession down Y/N’s face as she held tightly onto Eris’s hands. “How am I meant to follow that?”

A small chorus of laughs echoed throughout the hall.

Eris smiled brightly and squeezed her hands. 

“Eris, I love you,” Y/N began. Her heart hammered in her chest. “I wasn’t looking for love when I found you. But you were so patient with me, you allowed me to pursue things at my own pace. Never once did you pressure me into anything.”

Eris’s thumb lightly caressed her knuckles and Y/N struggled to keep her composure. 

“I love your smile, I love your laugh, I even love the way you want to hold my hand every moment of the day even if it is inconvenient for us both.” Eris chuckled quietly and dipped his head. “Most importantly Eris, I love your soul. I love how much you love and how much you care. And now I am just talking from the heart, but you deserve this. You deserve so much love, and I will happily give it to you for our entire lives, as your wife, as your mate, as your friend. You are my entire life, Eris and you always will be.”

With their eyes locked, Eris sent so much love down the bond that it was almost overwhelming. But Y/N just simply returned it. 

“And with that,” the officiator began. “I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, High Lord.”

“I damn sure will,” Eris said before gently cupping Y/N’s cheeks and pressed his lips against hers in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. 

Their tears mixed together and Y/N was sure that the gold dusting her and Eris’s eyelids was now all over their faces but she didn’t care. She was kissing her husband, her mate, the love of her life. 

Something deep within Y/N seemed to awaken and before she knew it heat surrounded them as the guests gasped in awe. Y/N only pulled away from Eris to look at the spectacle that surrounded them. Fire swirled in elegant patterns around the hall. Sparks falling down around the hall but vanished when they were close to anything it could harm. 

Y/N gasped. “Did you do this?”

Eris was not looking at the spectacle when Y/N turned back to him, he was only looking at her. “No,” he answered. “You are.”

“But how–”

“I told you, there is more to your power,” Eris wrapped his hand around hers.

The fire slowly began to disappear until nothing remained. Y/N turned back to Eris, whose eyes were still fixed on her.

“Shall we go, my love?” Eris asked. 

Y/N smiled. “Yes we shall.”

The two walked down the aisle to the applause of everyone in the hall.

***

The ballroom was smaller than the hall Y/N and Eris married in but was still just as grand. People danced and enjoyed themselves. Some drank too much and were escorted out by their friends. It was everything Y/N had envisioned for her wedding day. 

The only thing she needed was her sisters. 

As Y/N walked through the ballroom, her sights set on the group huddled in the far corner of the ballroom. Her sisters, more specifically Elain, was straying further from the group as she tried to find someone in the mass of people, but once her younger sister's eyes landed on her she smiled and rushed over. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Elain said as she wrapped her in a hug. 

Y/N’s arms immediately wrapped around her sister and hugged her fiercely. “It’s okay. I am glad you are here.”

As Y/N pulled away from Elain, Feyre and Nesta were approaching. Like Elain, Feyre gave her a hug and offered her a quiet apology. Finally Nesta stood before her. Unlike her two youngest sisters, Nesta remained there, as elegant as ever, with her arms folded across her chest. 

“Nesta,” Y/N greeted. “I am glad you are–”

Before Y/N could finish her sentence, Nesta had wrapped Y/N in a tight hug. She had never been too close to Nesta and she was sure that she could count on one hand the number of times they had hugged in their life. But this was by far Y/N’s favourite. 

“I am sorry for the way we treated you, Y/N,” Nesta said and pulled away. 

“It is okay,” Y/N said.

“No it isn’t, Y/N,” Feyre said. “We should not have pushed you away. We should not have ignored you. Your trauma from the cauldron was just as valid as Nesta and Elain and we did nothing for you.”

“We are also sorry for how we treated you and Eris,” Elain butt in. “From the looks of things, you two love each other and he absolutely adores you. It was wrong of us to assume he had forced you to stay here.”

“Can you ever forgive us?” Feyre asked. 

“There are a lot of things you three have not done for me over the past few years,” Y/N began. “Feyre, Elain you have described them perfectly. I am not forgiving you immediately, we three need to have time to rebuild any relationship we had before.” Her three sisters lost the small smiles on their faces. “But tonight, I would just like to be with my sisters and celebrate with them. When I imagined my wedding day, I always pictured you three there beside me.”

Elain took Y/N’s hand. “We will always be beside you, Y/N. We love you.”

Y/N smiled. “I love you three too.”

Y/N held a little tighter onto Elain’s hand and then gripped onto Nesta’s hand. “Now as it is my wedding day and as I am High Lady of this court, I demand you three to dance with me.”

Y/N dragged the two to the centre of the dancefloor. People around them watched but Y/N couldn’t find it within herself to care about appearances. All she wanted to do was have fun with her sisters. Nests tried to remain poised but Y/N simply held onto her hands and pulled her sister into a dance. 

“Nesta, there is no one to impress here,” Y/N said, twirling her sister around. “Relax.”

Nesta’s shoulders seemed to relax the slightest amount as the musicians began to play a more upbeat piece of music. Y/N spun around on the dancefloor with her sisters and she began to beckon people to join them. 

Standing on the outskirts of the circle was Aliana and Y/N beckoned her over. She did so without complaint. Y/N released Nesta’s hands and gripped onto Aliana’s. “I am so glad you decided to join the celebrations.”

“You have invited most of the village!” Aliana exclaimed. “I expected to walk in and be amongst official court advisors.”

“I invited everyone from the village, and some of the surrounding ones,” Y/N said. “I would have invited more but I don’t believe that there would be time for them to travel, so I sent them all small wedding favours.”

“When I heard that there was going to be a High Lady of Autumn, I didn’t expect you to be so kind,” Aliana said. 

Y/N smiled. “I only want what is best for everyone. Everyone deserves to be seen and live in a safe space. I did not have that growing up so I want to make sure others do.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Aliana said. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me,” Y/N said and caught a glimpse of someone over Aliana’s shoulder. “There is someone here to see you.”

Aliana released Y/N’s hands and turned to look behind her. She gasped as tears sprung to her eyes. “Is that-?”

“Your mother,” Y/N said. “I released her from her ban from the Autumn Court. She can come back whenever she pleases. She can even move back if she wanted.”

Aliana flung her arms around Y/N. “Thank you, Y/N. Nobody has ever done something ths kind to our family before.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around Aliana before gently pulling away. “Go and spend time with your mother. I will see you later.”

“Later? What do you mean later?” Aliana asked.

“Well, I will need a royal seamstress for the palace,” Y/N said.

Aliana stepped away. “That is a made up title.”

“You are correct,” Y/N replied. “I did just make that up. But that is your new title if you choose to accept it.” Aliana opened her mouth to reply but Y/N simply held up her hand. “We can discuss more about it another time. Go to your mother.”

“Thank you,” Aliana said and rushed toward her mother and threw her arms around her. Y/N smiled at the sight. 

“Come on!” Elain exclaimed and pulled Y/N in for another dance in the crowd of people.

Y/N happily complied as through the crowd she saw Eris. He held a glass of wine in his hand as he watched her with a smile. Y/N beckoned him to the dance floor but he shook his head and nodded in the direction of her sisters. Before Y/N could try to coerce him again, Lucine appeared at his side and he was sucked into conversation. 

Y/N turned back to her sisters and danced the night away.

***

The music was slower and a lot of people had retired home, though many still remained. Y/N’s arms were wrapped around Eris’s neck and her head rested on his shoulder as they gently swayed to the music. 

“My wife,” Eris muttered.

“My husband,” Y/N muttered in return.

“I don’t know how I ever lived without you,” Eris said, his voice full of emotion. “You are the other half of my soul.”

Y/N gripped onto him tighter. She still was overwhelmed with emotions, all melting together and she couldn’t distinguish what emotion was what. 

“You are a dream, Eris Vanserra,” Y/N said.

“And you are a vision, Y/N Archeron,” Eris replied.

“Are you upset that I didn’t take your name?” Y/N asked.

“My love, I do not care,” Eris said. “All I care about is that I can call you my wife and my mate.”

“I love you,” Y/N muttered, pressing a soft kiss to the side of Eris’s neck.

“I love you too,” Eris replied, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. 

The picture perfect image was interrupted by a small cough. Eris tensed and Y/N pulled away to look directly into Rhysand’s eyes.

“May I have a dance, High Lady?” Rhysand asked.

Eris held a protective arm around her waist as he glared at Rhysand. Her hand rested on his chest in a comforting manner. From the looks of things Rhysand did not look like he was here to cause any drama. Both Cassian and Azriel were standing on the outskirts conversing with Nesta and Feyre, Elain was nowhere to be seen.

“Of course,” Y/N said. “Eris, would you mind getting me a drink? I won’t be long.”

“Yes, my love,” Eris replied, pressing a kiss to her cheek. His gaze once again fell upon Rhysand before he turned and walked away, leaving both Y/N and Rhysand alone.

Rhysand swept Y/N in a dance, his hand resting on her mid back while he clutched her hand with his as he spun around the dancefloor.

“Why did you want to dance, Feyre is just over there?” Y/N questioned.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Rhysand replied.

“Then talk,” Y/N said bluntly. “I was happy spending time with Eris before you cut in.”

Rhysand looked around the ballroom. “How did you convince him to invite people from the village?”

Y/N frowned, offended on behalf of her mate and husband. “I did not convince him to do anything, Rhysand. I sent out the invitations and he helped me do it.” Y/N pulled away. “If the only thing you want to do is insult Eris to my face, then I will gladly leave you here.”

Rhysand sighed and caught her wrist. “I am sorry, Y/N. I truly am.”

“Look, I do not like you, Rhysand. I have made that abundantly clear time and time again,” Y/N said. “But you make my sister happy, happier than I have ever seen her so I must thank you for that. You also played a part in creating my adorable nephew and that is another thing I can thank you for. But you and I are not friends. Especially not when you insult Eris at every given chance, even after Feyre explained to you why he did the things that he did.”

Rhysand sighed once more. “I know, and I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

Against her better judgement, Isal gently took his hand in hers. “Listen, Rhysand. I do not forgive you now, and I probably won’t forgive you until many years down the line, first you must not continue to see Eris as his father. He will never admit it to anyone else but me but that is what he fears the most. He is scared of becoming like his father, sometimes he wakes in the middle of the night crying and screaming because nightmares plague him.” Y/N said. “You need to realise that the two have quite a lot in common. All you both wanted is to protect the ones you love.”

Rhysand remained silent. 

“If you actually want to see the positive changes already made in the court, because of me and Eris, you and everyone else are welcome to stay for the following few days, there are plenty of guest rooms available,” Y/N offered. “Now if you will excuse me, I am going to spend time with the person I love. As for you, try to at least have fun and not act like a sword is hanging over your head.”

With that Y/N stepped away from Rhysand and walked away from him, a weight lifted from her shoulders.

She found Eris standing by the drinks table and she hastily approached him, not wanting to be apart from him any longer. Eris immediately perked up as Y/N drew closer, pulling her into his side once she was in arm's reach. 

“What did he want to talk about?” Eris asked, lazily resting his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. 

“I think it was meant to be an apology,” Y/N said, taking a sip of the wine. “But I am sure he just spent the time trying to pick fault with you.”

Eris growled and looked in Rhysand’s direction. But all Y/N needed to do was link her fingers with his and his attention was instantly devoured back to her. 

“It’s our wedding day,” Y/N said softly. “Let us just spend the remainder of the night together and not worry about anything else, or anybody else for that matter.”

Eris moved his face closer to hers so his lips hovered just above hers. “I like the sound of that idea.” His voice was low and deep, the tone that always made Y/N weak at the knees. 

Eris connected their lips and Y/N abandoned her drink on the table and wrapped her arms around him. She did not care that they were standing where everyone could see, the only thing that mattered was Eris and the fact that he was hers. 

Y/N was the first to pull away. She rested her forehead on his. “I know we will be leaving close to two hundred people in the ballroom, but all I want to do is retire to our bedroom. I don’t even want to have sex, I just want to lay down in our bed and hold one another until we fall asleep.”

“I like the sound of that idea more,” Eris said and began to drag her through the ballroom and to the exit. 

“You always love the sound of my ideas,” Y/N commented.

“I do,” Eris said. “I could listen to them for hours on end and never tire of your voice.”

“You are just saying that because you love me,” Y/N teased.

“That is true,” Eris jokes. “When I am tired and you ask me if I am still awake to ask me a silly question, that is when I tire of your voice.”

Y/N laughed as she and Eris stumbled into their bedroom. Almost immediately, Eris began to unlace her dress and watched as it fell away and to the floor, leaving her in only a simple pair of underwear. 

“You are truly stunning,” Eris said. “I should tell you that more often.”

“You tell me that every day,” Y/N said, beginning to take off Eris’s clothing. 

“It is never enough,” Eris replied, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder.

Y/N shivered as he unclasped her bra and let it fall from her body. There was nothing sexually charged about the atmosphere, all Y/N and Eris needed was to hold each other and to feel each other. 

Y/N pulled him to the bed and shuffled to the centre of it, pulling Eris across with her. The contrast of the cool sheets and the heat emitting from Eris’s body made her relax and pull Eris closer so her head could easily rest in the crook of his neck. 

Now that they were in privacy, Eris’s entire demeanour changed. When he was surrounded by court officials, from their own court and others, and the fae from the village, he put up his High Lord front. But now, with only Y/N as witness, he stripped that all back and was fully able to be his true self. The side that only Y/N ever got to see. 

“My mate, my wife,” Eris mumbled. “I will never tire of saying that.”

“My mate, my husband,” Y/N responded, her lips brushing his neck. “I will never tire of saying it either.”

Eris drew small patterns upon her skin as the two lay there in silence. Y/N’s eyes were closed but she was not sleeping, she was simply enjoying the simple pleasure in being cuddled up to the love of her life. The love that she never thought would ever come true. The love she deserved. The love she was destined for.

[beenbaanbuun]

mothers w/ mingi

words - kind of short

genres - fluff

warnings - shaving, bad relationships with family, bad relationships with food, body issues, inherited insecurity, mingi is a precarious baby

——————————————————————————

“do you think your ball trimmer will shave legs?” you turn and look at mingi who’s lay innocently on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through his phone. that is until your words sink in and his gaze shoots up to where you stand with the small contraption in hand.

“i guess so,” he shrugs as he turns his phone off and puts it straight down. you ignore the way his eyes furrow as you turn it on and inspect the blades close up. you don’t know how close the shave would be, but you guess in desperate times, that doesn’t really matter. at this point, any shave will do.

you switch it off again and nod to yourself, placing it on the dresser before going through your drawers to grab your other things ready for a shower. you pick up a plain blue pair of cotton panties that despite not being sexy at all, you’re sure mingi will find an excuse to rip off of you post shower. then you grab your comfiest sports bra that again has one too many holes to be considered sexy. finally you grab one of mingi’s shirts - an oversized one that seems to have taken permanent residence in your pyjama drawer - and begin to head to the bathroom with your boyfriend’s ball trimmer in hand too.

“hang on a second, baby,” he calls out after you, scrambling off the bed and rushing towards you until you’re close enough for him to swaddle in his grasp. arms wrap around your shoulders, pinning you to his chest, “what do you think you’re doing?”

you lean back against him, enjoying the impromptu hug more than you’d care to admit.

“shaving my legs,” you close your eyes as you inhale the familiar peppery smell of his cologne; it’s warm and invades your senses, just like him, “i lost my razor so i need to use this.”

“why are you shaving your legs?” he asks, not quite satisfied with your reply. probably because you’d stopped bothering with that sort of thing pretty soon into the relationship. it’s a lot of effort, and your hair seems to be the last thing on mingi’s mind when he saw your legs. mostly he just thinks about what’s between them and how he’s going to get to it. he hardly even pays notice to the prickly hairs that run up and down your skin.

“we’re going on holiday with my mother,” you grumble in reply, “i have to be prepared.”

ah yes; the monster-in-law…

she’s a lovely lady for the most part, inviting mingi into the family with open arms despite the fact that she obviously wasn’t expecting him when you said you were bringing a boyfriend home. its clear she doesn’t approve of the way he dresses, or the nail varnish that coats his fingertips, but that doesn’t stop her from treating him like her own son. he gets the biggest portions of her home cooked meals and the first pick of desert. she calls him handsome when she sees him wearing something she likes, and compliments his uniqueness whenever he’s wearing something that’s a little more outlandish for her old-fashioned taste. she thinks he’s brave when he colours his hair in an outlandish fashion, and gorgeous when he wears it black. all in all, she’s a pretty lovely woman once you get past the hard shell of her traditional values.

and, of course, if you ignore the way she treats you.

to be honest, mingi is impressed at how resilient you turned out after living with that woman for 18 years. constantly having your self esteem torn down can’t be good for someone’s mental health, and yet you made it out the other side with a relatively normal relationship with your body. you have a healthy relationship with food, if you don’t count the days when mingi has to coax you to eat just a little more, and the days where he’d find you scrutinising yourself in front of a mirror are, for the most part, long gone! sometimes you tell him it’s because of him you feel so comfortable in your body; he refuses to take any of the credit for your own inability to be broken.

in fact, it’s only moments like this that he begins to see cracks in those walls you’ve built up. moments when you know you’ll have to see your mum soon. it’s like alarm bells go off in your mind reminding you that you haven’t quite met her standards yet. eat less because ‘you’ve gained a bit weight recently; you ought to keep an eye on that’. shave your legs because ‘as a woman you shouldn’t have hair on your legs; it’s just not natural’. buy expensive skincare products because ‘acne? at your age? you really should take better care of yourself’. it’s these moments that mingi can see the damage done. that he really has to take care of you.

“you shouldn’t listen to your mum,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and gives you an extra tight squeeze with his gangly arms, “they’re your legs, not hers; you only ever have to do what you want to with your body.”

“i know,” you say, leaning your back into his sturdy chest. he’s so warm and cosy, so reliable and strong. the small smile that rises to your face as he holds you close is involuntary. you guess you’re just so in love that you can help it, “she’s just so hard to be around when i’m not absolutely perfect.”

“well then i don’t see the issue here,” he lets you go for just a few seconds, spinning you around until you’re facing him. once more he encloses you in his grasp, a loose grip around your waist just to keep you close, “you’re already perfect, baby.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you giggle. he laughs too. in that moment nothing matters to you but him.

“it’s not cheesy if it’s the truth,” he bends down and presses a firm kiss to your lips, “perfect, perfect, perfect baby.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: implied domestic abuse (zero detail is given)

Eddie was late for school at least once a week. It wasn’t a problem of getting up and getting ready on time, his mom made sure he was moving.

He could hear the way the new neighbors fought sometimes, saw the way the older boy would rush into his vehicle and practically fly out of the park. He’d watch as the younger girl, Red, would follow soon after, backpack slung over her shoulder and feet kicking rocks as she walked to the main road to catch the bus.

He didn’t stop her the first time it happened. To be honest, she looked furious and he didn’t exactly want to be torn to pieces by a girl at least 5 years younger than him.

But the second time, he swore he saw a few tears on her face and he couldn’t not at least try.

When she didn’t immediately murder him, he decided it was probably safe to offer a ride to school. Surprisingly, she agreed.

And this continued for months.

Annie Munson would get a call from the school every couple of times and try to explain, but any Munson excuse was not an excuse they cared to hear.

She didn’t say anything to Eddie about it; didn’t want him to feel like he was doing anything wrong by being kind to someone who needed all the kindness they could get. She saw the way Mrs. Mayfield seemed to stay curled into herself even when he wasn’t around. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

But eventually, the school threatened to call child protective services, and Annie couldn’t let Eddie deal with that. He’d already had enough of that before they moved in with Wayne.

So she pulled him aside the night of that call and hugged him hard, told him she loved him for his big heart, his caring soul, but he had to figure out how to not be late to school.

He could read between the lines easily enough.

Max started showing up at their door 15 minutes earlier every morning, not quite smiling, but not looking quite as angry. Annie welcomed her in as she finished packing her lunch for work, didn’t really try to talk to her much. She left that to Eddie, who always came down the short hallway with a beaming smile and a “Hey Red! Long time no see!” or a “You’re looking slightly less murderous this morning, did you already sacrifice something to Satan? Without me?”

Max always tried to hide a smile, but Annie caught it.

Eddie had that energy that made everyone feel just a hint of sun on a cloudy day.

It continued well into Max’s freshman year. Especially after her step brother died in a tragic mall fire and her step dad booked it out of town, she needed someone.

At school, they pretended not to know each other. Eddie explained it was easier on Max that way, and she had other friends, or so she said. He never really saw her hanging out with them, but he just assumed they had different schedules.

Annie saw through it. She was pretty sure Eddie saw through it. Neither of them risked her running for the hills, though.

- - - -

After the earthquake, Annie spent as much time with Eddie and Max as she could. Max’s mom seemed distant, like she couldn’t process any of what happened. Max deserved better than that, so Annie did her best.

It was easy to forget how young she was when she spoke. The boy who sat by her side nearly 24/7, Lucas, explained that she had to fend for herself since she was pretty young, as if she still wasn’t pretty young.

As soon as Eddie was able to leave his bed, he asked to be wheeled over to Max’s room.

“Gotta make sure she didn’t perform any satanic rituals without me,” he joked, though it fell flat when it hit him that most people still thought he actually performed satanic rituals.

Annie had to get home and make dinner for her and Wayne, so the Harrington boy volunteered to take him.

Annie was perceptive enough to see why the Harrington boy, Steve, was around nearly every day. She was also perceptive enough to see the way Eddie blushed when Steve wrapped his arm around his waist to help him into the wheelchair. She’d ask him about it later.

She did at least walk with them to the elevator, listened to their quiet conversation about Max being half blind and her arms being in casts.

The next day, she visited Eddie as usual before work, brought him a hot coffee. He was still asleep, his hand stretched out towards a sleeping Steve. Steve’s fingers were just barely touching Eddie’s, like they’d maybe been holding hands at some point until someone shifted in their sleep.

She set the coffee down on the table by his bed and scratched a note on the pad he’d been using for campaign notes.

Maybe they could bring Steve a cot if he’s gonna be a permanent fixture in your room. Love, mama

She folded it in half and set the coffee cup on top of it so hopefully only Eddie would see.

But if Steve saw it, maybe that would be okay.

- - - -

When Max got out of the hospital, Eddie was waiting for her in his van, only just released from police custody a few days before.

She shook her head.

“I may actually have to do a satanic ritual to get into that thing. I thought Steve was getting me in his car?”

The nurses scoffed at her words, but Eddie ignored her.

“Steve had to take Robin to the school for volunteering. And I brought Lucas to help,” he gestured behind him to where Lucas was hesitantly standing by the passenger door. “Between the two of us, we can get you in and out. No satanic ritual required. This time.”

He winked at the nurse, just to be a shit.

“Annie said she’d bring me cake when I got home,” Max said as they maneuvered her into the passenger seat and waved the nurse away.

“She’s at home baking it as we speak, Red.”

“Oh.” She said it like she actually didn’t believe it would happen. Maybe she didn’t. “Cool. I guess.”

Eddie smirked. “When my mama says she’ll do something, she does it. And if she can’t, she’ll do the next best thing. Never doubt her.”

“Yeah, but I’m not her kid.”

“Neither is Lucas, but she packed him lunches everyday for the last two weeks when she realized he wasn’t leaving your room to get something. Neither is Steve, but she makes his favorite for dinner once a week. Neither is Dustin, but she held him until his mom could get to the hospital when they were trying to set his ankle. If she cares about you, she does it.”

Max nodded. “I guess that’s a nice thing to have.”

“Yeah. And you have it now. So don’t push her away. Or any of us. Got it?”

Max snorted. “I haven’t had a moment alone in over a month. It’s not like I can get rid of any of you.”

“Exactly. Glad we’re on the same page!”

She turned to Lucas the best she could and glared. “You’re taking me to the movies as soon as these casts are off.”

“Yeah! Okay, yep!” He agreed quickly.

Eddie snorted. “Jesus Christ. You two are ridiculous.”

“Whatever,” they said in unison.

- - - -

When everyone was able to go back to school, Eddie drove them all.

He had a diploma, so he didn’t have to worry about being late, but he still woke up early enough to pick them all up and drop them off.

Max was always the last one out of the van.

“No satanic rituals without me,” Eddie would tell her.

“Not until Saturday!” Max would answer him.