#i thought the thing only started this week

[wileys-russo]

ingrid from "hidden in plain sight", "did you just say you got a ring?", in a cafe - thanks either way hehe

set way into the future of this and this a simple cronut II i.engen x rolfö!reader

"baby stop pouting." your girlfriend laughed, finding you curled up on the sofa with a scowl embedded into your features, arms crossed and eyes trained on the tv, though whatever was playing on the screen was the last thing on your mind.

"no! you are going for breakfast to my favorite cafe, with my sister, on my day off, and my girlfriend didn't invite me?" you huffed, flicking the amused norwegian a dirty look, grumbling something else beneath your breath in swedish she didn't quite catch.

"i made you breakfast. your sister is also my friend. it is our day off and i thought we had an agreement that it was better for everyone if you and frido have a little space sometimes." ingrid reminded with a raised eyebrow but all you did was huff again as your only response.

"i see we are being very mature today." your girlfriend teased, again copping an evil look making her smile only widen, finding your annoyance utterly adorable which was the opposite of the desired effect.

"but she third wheels us all the time! without an invitation!" you reminded throwing your arms up and following after ingrid who returned to the bedroom, your sister inviting herself over to your shared apartment with the midfielder at least twice a week, going as far as to have had her own key cut.

then another key cut when you'd confiscated that first one.

"yes which is why we all agreed on some space. look i know i am the glowing centre of both of your worlds but-" you made an indignant noise at that, throwing yourself down onto the bed with narrowed eyes.

"-but i am my own person. who sometimes wants to hang out with my girlfriend by myself-" ingrid paused to lean down and steal a kiss. "-or hang out with my best friend by myself." she finished sending you a firm look as you exhaled.

"do you promise to bring me back a cronut?" you muttered, grumpily but in acceptance that throwing a tantrum was not going to achieve what you wanted, and thinking about it further that really wasn't to see your sister today.

"of course i will my love." ingrid chuckled as you sat up against the headboard, watching as she changed which jacket she was wearing several times.

"the cream cardigan, goes with the new puma shoes you're supposed to take a picture in this week." you hinted heavily, this time finally with a small smile as ingrid clicked her tongue and smacked her palm against her head.

"i love you." the norweigan groaned, grabbing either side of your face and pressing a kiss to your lips with a loud mwah as you hummed in amusement as her phone chimed.

"enjoy your breakfast, don't forget my cronut please." you stood off the bed and warned, a few soft kisses exchanged before ingrids phone starting ringing, your sister clearly impatiently waiting downstairs.

"even when she's not here, she interrupts." you quipped with a roll of your eyes, ingrid chuckling and stealing one last kiss. "your ass looks good in those shorts." she shamelessly commented, watching as you wandered back to the living room.

"i know. thats why i wear them!" you winked, blowing her a kiss and collapsing into the sofa, wiggling around to get comfortable. "if they're still on when i get back kjærlighet, you'll be getting more than just a cronut." the norweigan smirked, sending you a wink of her own before the door closed after her.

~

"-so, i may have lied to you about wanting to see you." ingrid started as she and frido took a seat outside, sunglasses covering their eyes and coffees in hand, awaiting their breakfast to arrive.

"so it has happened. you have finally come to your senses and realised i am the better rolfö, and the more entertaining, and fun to be around, and-" the blonde started with a sigh as her best friends eyes rolled.

"shut up! let me speak." ingrid huffed as the older blonde chuckled but tipped her coffee toward her in a silent apology, nodding for her to continue, interrupted once more by their food arriving as both girls uttered thank yous.

"so i love your sister, very very much." ingrid began, food untouched as fridolina instead dug right in. "clearly, you must to have put up with her for so long. does she still do the wheezy thing when she sleeps when she-" the midfielder begun as ingrids eyes again rolled.

"frido!" "sorry sorry, go on gushing over how much you love my baby sister." she pulled a face of disgust and waved for ingrid to continue.

"i love your sister so much that i want to marry her." ingrid decided being direct may be her best choice right not to get this out, interrupted once more but this time by frido choking on a mouthful of eggs.

a waitress rushing over the swede hastily waved her off with an embarrassed grimace, chugging a glass of water as ingrid sipped on her coffee, rather unfazed by the reaction.

"marriage!?" the blonde managed to get out once she'd somewhat recovered, ingrid nodding. "but-but-you're...and she's just...marriage!?" your sister was in a state of shock, wide eyed and heart racing.

"yes. we've been together for three years now, i know she's the one i want to spend the rest of my life with. i have spoke with your parents, i have the ring, all i want now...is your blessing." ingrids voice softened, a hint of insecurity dancing around the edge of her request, coffee put down and fingers drumming on the table nervously.

"my bless-wait. did you just say you got a ring?" your sisters eyes somehow opened wider as ingrid nodded, grabbing her bag off the table, placing a small black box between them which frido carefully picked up.

"i-wow. ingrid." your sister exhaled, shaking her head as she popped open the box, oggling the engagement ring hidden within. "is it too much? not enough? will she like it?" your girlfriend bit her bottom lip anxiously, fingers resuming their drumming against the tabletop.

"hey. it is perfect because it came from you ing, of course she will love it." frido picked up on her best friends energy then, closing the box and placing it back down on the table.

"but if you have spoken with my family. why do you want my blessing?" the older girl asked with a curious though not unkind frown. "

why do you think? your opinion means more to her than she would ever let on, much more than even your parents or anyone." ingrid professed, and not untruthfully, though you may clash heads a lot your sister was one of the most important people in your life, a life you'd never dare to imagine without her in it.

"you know i love to tease her about being the baby of the family, but even with that you do not need my blessing ingrid, but of course you have it." frido spoke softly, reaching across the table to squeeze your girlfriends hand in assurance as the tension bled from her body and she slumped back into her seat with a relieved exhale.

"is that why you would not let her come? you know i have many texts from her threatening me if i did not tell you to invite her." the blonde laughed, shaking her phone making ingrid crack a smile.

"but you didn't." "of course not! when do i ever do what she wants me to?"

"you are both as bad as each other." ingrid chuckled, frido urging for her to eat before her food went cold. "so when are you going to propose?" your sister asked curiously, shovelling another mouthful of eggs in after she did.

"today." ingrid answered casually, once more causing the swede across from her to choke, scrambling for her coffee as ingrid gestured to the young waitress that again they were fine.

"today!?" "yes, today." "what if i had said no!?" "well...i was hoping you would say yes." "ingrid!" "fridolina?"

"you are proposing to my sister. today." frido managed out, once more in state of shock as the norweigan nodded. "i am going to put the ring in the cronut she keeps messaging me not to forget to bring home." ingrid smiled, drinking the last of her coffee.

"hopefully she does not choke on it." "frido! i was not worried about that before!" "well just make sure she finds it before she shoves a pastry down her throat, you know how she is, resource guarding." "your sister is not a dog." "eats like one."

~

ingrid took a deep breath as she stepped into the elevator, checking the paper bag in her hand for the one hundreth time and nodding when she saw the glint of silver just poking out.

she could do this. she could do this. she could do this. she could do this.

"älskade! you are home!"

she could not do this. she could not do this. she could not do this. she could not do this.

"oh my cronut! i adore you."

she had to do this. she had to do this. she had to do this. she had to do this.

ingrid exhaled shakily as you took the bag from her hand, chattering away now in a much happier mood about your morning as ingrid hardly heard a word, her ears ringing and legs heavy as you grabbed the cronut, ring just peeking out.

wait the ring-

before ingrid could say a single word you took an eager bite, swearing in swedish as your tooth bit something hard, eyebrows furrowing as you dropped the cronut back in the bag and cradled your jaw.

"what the-" you fell silent as you poked around and found it, ingrid exhaling shakily as she dropped to one knee, your hand slowly retracting from the bag with wide eyes, ring pursed between your thumb and pointer finger.

"ingrid-" "do you remember the first night we went out when you first came to norway?" ingrid began, shocked at how she was even able to get the words out as her stomach knotted over itself.

"well yes but-" "that couple. the proposal, in front of the entire restaurant. do you remember what you said to me?" all you could do was shake your head, your brain apparently away on holidays as it refused to function.

"you said to me you could not think of anything worse than a public proposal." "i did?" "you did, and i never forgot it."

"so. this might not be the most romantic location, and theres no sunset or beautiful backdrop, no band or photographer or rose petals-" ingrid shifted slightly, eyes trained to yours.

"-but you're here, and you're all i need. barcelona is where things with us really got their first steps, so i thought it was the right place to take the next one, together. my love, will you marry me?" ingrid barely got the words out, terrified of what might come next as a silence fell between you both.

"i-ingrid." you exhaled in a state of shock, gaze flickering rapidly between the pastry covered engagement ring and your girlfriend knelt on the floor before you.

"yes. of course! yes!" you laughed in disbelief, ingrid up and off the ground in record time, surging toward you for a very tight hug as you couldn't quite believe this was really happening.

"you put the ring in my cronut." you managed out, arms wrapped around one another in an airtight embrace. "i was worried you might choke on it." ingrid admitted, pulling back a little as you shared a glance, grins growing in both your features.

ingrid squealed as suddenly you slammed back into her, almost taking her down off her feet as your mouth captured hers in a deep and passionate kiss, tangling your hands in her hair, a moment frozen in time. your first as not just girlfriends, but now, fiancés.

"wait. is this why i could not come to breakfast!?"

[fourdiagnosesinatrenchcoat]

Bookseller and former corporate publishing worker here:

I'm genuinely impressed that Macmillan kept this book actually embargoed until a week before publication. Usually a book like this might get sold to stores as "untitled by anonymous" and our reps would give us some level of information over the phone but not in writing, so we can make a best guess on how many copies to start with. E.g. the BTS book that everyone thought was a Taylor Swift book for a hot minute

or this one, which I REALLY wanted to be a Mackenzie Scott tell-all memoir about Bezos.

The publisher managed to ship tens of thousands of copies of CARELESS PEOPLE to distributors before the people lower on the chain of command (including reps who sell books to indie bookstores) were told ANYTHING.

And they really did ship my order in time for pub date when I was only told about it a week before!

Meta seeking an injunction is absolutely the best publicity possible for a book like this. But the really hilarious thing is the claim that the author "avoided the industry's standard fact-checking process" because there IS no standard of fact checking in book publishing. You are perhaps thinking of journalism. If an author wants their book fact checked they have to pay for it themselves.

So good luck with that, Meta.

Meta doesn't want you to know about Sarah Wynn-Williams book Careless People. So much so they got the courts involved so she can't promote herself. Would be a shame if a bunch of people not tied up in court promoted it for her…

[moonstruckme]

Hello Mae! I hope you’re having a wonderful week so far. I have never requested before but I saw your requests were open and I felt inspired! (Forgive me if I do or say something wrong!) I saw that you write for stranger things but I’ve never seen a poly!steddie before! If it inspires you, I thought a little hurt/comfort with some angst could be fun with the boys. Maybe a miscommunication between them when they’re first figuring out the dynamic and one of the boys says something hurtful to writer by accident (we know those silly boys have no brain to mouth filter). Thank you for sharing your writing and working so hard for us, you’re so appreciated and loved! ❤️❤️

Thank you angel <33

poly!steddie x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“God, it’s worse than I thought.” Eddie rolls onto his stomach on Steve’s bed, dragging the chord of your headphones with him. “How many of these do you have on here?” 

“It’s the whole album,” you say. You’re watching your boyfriends all tangled up on top of the covers, half tempted to join them but too shy to do it. The carpeting on Steve’s bedroom floor is soft enough anyway. 

“Eugh, your poor ears!” 

“You’re such a snob.” Steve gives Eddie’s ankles a halfhearted shove where they’ve fallen over his lap, but really you know he doesn’t mind the contact. 

“No, a snob would tell her to listen to fucking strings music or something,” says Eddie. “I just have taste.” 

“What’s wrong with U2?” you ask. 

Really, you knew better than to think you’d actually get any studying done with your boyfriends. You knew it since Steve invited you over, but that didn’t stop you from going, pep in your step and textbook like a prop in your bag. You were barely ten minutes in when Eddie had plucked your headphones up from your head, taking a listen. He declared your taste in music “laughable.” 

“What’s wrong with U2?” Eddie repeats incredulously. “Baby, where do I start? I didn’t know I had a pop princess on my hands here.” 

You recognize the teasing in his tone, but the jabs at your music selection still taste sour in your mouth. “Oh, because Metallica is so underground.” 

“See, that’s part of it. At least Metallica is real rock. U2 is just—like—I don’t even know what to call them. They say they’re a rock band, but listen to this shit!” He sits up and tries to put the headphones on Steve, who wards him off with a hand. “This is not rock.” 

“You’re a total snob,” Steve repeats, laughing when Eddie only fights harder. 

“No, seriously! This isn’t rock. Plus, have you ever seen Bono perform? It’s totally overdone.” 

“I went to one of their shows,” you say. “Last summer.” 

“Fuck.” Eddie blows out a breath as he gives up on trying to get your headphones on Steve. He collapses against your boyfriend’s side, grinning. “My condolences, then.” 

“I liked it.” 

“Awe. That’s probably because you haven’t been to a real concert yet, huh? Don’t worry, gorgeous, we’ll get you to a good one eventually. Your ears will be relieved.” 

“Yeah, okay.” You roll your eyes. Neither of your boyfriends seem to have notice how you’ve gone quiet, both too absorbed in each other as Eddie lands aggressive kisses on Steve’s cheek and Steve grins and pretends not to like it. For the first time since you started dating, you feel bitterly alone. 

Part of you thinks you might be overreacting. You don’t usually care what people think of your music tastes—they don’t usually fixate on them so intensely, but you generally tend to believe that art is subjective and everyone is entitled to their own preferences. The thing is, you know music is really important to Eddie. He’s made it his life. He plays in a band; half his shirts are band tees; there’s a guitar mounted on his wall that he talks to more sweetly than either you or Steve. So if he thinks your taste in music is garbage, what does that say about what he thinks of you?

“Hey.” Steve nudges you with a foot. You’ve been looking morose without meaning to, not realizing anyone was watching. “You know he’s just kidding, right?” 

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, still grinning, “I don’t kid about concerts. We’re fucking going.” 

You start putting your textbook away. “I think I’m going to finish studying at home.” 

“No, hey,” says Steve, frowning now. “Come on.” 

Eddie’s eyebrows rise as he catches on. “Wait, are you seriously mad?” 

“I’m not mad,” you lie. “I’m just going to go listen to my awful music back at my place, where I can actually study.” 

“Please, you knew what you were getting into, babe. We were never going to study.” Eddie’s trying to joke with you again, but his tone turns serious when you stand up to leave. “Hey, hold on. I’m just messing around. Stay.” 

You turn around, unsure what to say and not really wanting to look at either of them, either. 

“I didn’t know you liked U2 that much,” he says in a softer voice.

“It’s not that I—” You sigh, crossing your arms. “I’m not, like, obsessed with them. I just don’t get why you have to rag on what I like so much.” 

“I was just playing, baby. I’m sorry, I didn’t think you cared, just—c’mere.” 

Eddie wraps a hand around your elbow, tugging you onto the bed with him and Steve. Your arms uncross by the nature of the movement. He gets you between them, kissing the side of your head. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, words all mushed up. Not teasing anymore. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I did, didn’t I?” 

“No,” you say, partially because you don’t want to seem dramatic and partially because it really is difficult to blame someone who’s pressing their lips to your cheek like they plan to leech on and never let go. “Just, I at least pretend to like the things that you like.” 

“Pretend?” Eddie pulls away, looking wounded. 

“Try not to take it personally,” Steve tells you. His hand has found your neck, thumb rubbing at the tense muscles near your shoulders. “He really is a snob. He called me a philistine for listening to Tears for Fears.” 

“Well,” Eddie cuts in, “you are a philistine.” 

“But,” Steve goes on with a narrow-eyed look, “he doesn’t have to be such a dick about it.” 

“Right. Right, yeah, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Eddie devotes himself to you again, hugging his arms around your waist. “Really. I was just messing with you, I thought we were joking around. We can listen to U2 if you want. We can even—if you want us to, we can go to a concert.” 

He sounds so pained as he says it that it coaxes a small smile out of you. Steve, seeing, squeezes your shoulder encouragingly. 

“I know you had to fight a gag reflex to say that,” you tell Eddie. 

He grimaces. “I may need a vomit bag when we go. But if it’s important to you…” 

“That’s okay.” 

The sigh Eddie lets out is gargantuan. He sinks against your side. “Thank you.” He kisses underneath your jaw. It tickles, but he only latches on tighter when you try to get away. “I knew you loved me. I’ll never make fun of you again.” 

“You can still make some fun of me,” you allow. 

Steve makes a dissenting noise. “Not in an asshole way, though.” 

“No, that’s it. I’m swearing off teasing for the rest of my life. The stakes are too high.” 

“Right, sure.” Steve reaches around you to tug on one of Eddie’s curl gently. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

[lvnleah]

breaking the news | awfc x young!reader.

find the no more secrets universe masterlist here!

November 28th 2024 | 6 weeks pregnant.

“Do I really have to tell the team?” You sighed, sitting in the back of Beth’s car as she drove you, her and Steph to training. “Can’t I just like…I don’t know, hide for nine months?”

Beth scoffed from the driver's seat, her eyes meeting yours through the rear view mirror, “Don’t think that’s possible, kid. People will notice and question things, how you gonna explain it when you pop up with a baby one day, huh?”

You groaned, slumping further into the seat and crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t know, say I found it on the doorstep like Harry Potter?”

Steph snorted from the passenger seat, shaking her head. “Yeah, good luck with that one, kiddo. Pretty sure Renée and the girls will see right through that.”

Beth chuckled, but her voice softened as she glanced at you again. “Look, I know it’s scary, but this isn’t something you have to go through alone. You tell them when you’re ready, but hiding it isn’t gonna work forever.”

You let out a slow breath, staring out the window as the training ground came into view. “I just… I don’t want them to look at me differently. Or treat me like I’m fragile, or worse…like I’ve ruined my career before it’s even started.”

Steph turned around in her seat, her expression serious but kind. “No one’s gonna think that, H. You’re still you. You’re still a part of this team. And if anything, they’ll support you, just like we do.”

Beth pulled into the car park, turning off the engine before twisting around to face you. “You don’t have to say anything today if you don’t want to. Just take it one step at a time, okay?”

You nodded hesitantly, your stomach twisting with nerves as you spotted a few of your teammates already heading inside.

One step at a time.

As you got out of the car, Steph slung an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Come on, H. You’ve got this.”

A little while later, you sat stiffly in Renée’s office, your fingers digging into the fabric of your training top as she finished scribbling something in her notebook. She hadn’t even looked up yet, and already, you felt sick.

Beth and Steph had offered to come with you, but this felt like something you had to do on your own. You were twenty, barely an adult, and about to tell your manager that you were pregnant. That you would be stepping away from playing just as your career was getting started.

Finally, Renée set her pen down and met your eyes with a small smile. “What’s on your mind?”

Your throat was dry. You thought about stalling, about dancing around the subject for as long as possible, but you’d been dreading this moment for days. The longer you dragged it out, the worse it would feel.

“I, umm, I-I’m pregnant…”

The words hung in the air, thick and heavy.

Renée didn’t react at first. She just blinked, lips parting slightly like she wasn’t sure she’d heard you right. Then, she leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly.

“You’re… pregnant?”

You nodded, gripping your knees to keep your hands from shaking. “About six weeks…I think.”

She ran a hand through her hair, clearly trying to process the information. “Okay. Wow. That’s… a lot.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “I know.”

For a few seconds, she was quiet, her brows drawn together. When she finally spoke, her voice was gentler. “How are you feeling about it?”

Your chest tightened. “Scared…I don’t know. A bit overwhelmed and terrified. I’m only twenty and it isn’t exactly ideal.”

“Is this what you want?”

You hesitated, but only for a moment. “Yeah, I want to keep the baby.”

Renée studied you carefully, then sighed, nodding. “Alright.”

You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until the weight in your chest loosened slightly. “You’re…you’re not mad?”

She gave you a look. “You’re pregnant, you didn’t murder anyone.”

You huffed a small, nervous laugh, and she shook her head, offering a small smile. “I won’t lie to you, this is a shock. And it’s going to be a big adjustment for you, for your career. But if this is what you want, then we’ll support you. You’re still part of this club, no matter what.”

Your fingers curled into the hem of your top. “I want to keep training. Just… no contact, obviously.”

Renée nodded. “That’s the best plan. We’ll have to make adjustments, but we’ll keep you involved because I don’t want you isolating yourself.”

You exhaled shakily, relief washing over you. “Thank you.”

Her expression softened. “You don’t have to go through this alone, you know. Have you told anyone else?”

You nodded. “Beth and Steph were then when I took the test.”

Renée smirked. “Of course. They’ll take good care of you. Just let me know when you want to tell the team yeah? There’s no rush.”

You nodded once again, fidgeting with the hem of your training kit, “I think I want to wait until I’ve had my first scan…y’know just check everything’s alright?”

“That sounds like a good plan, when is that?” Renée asked, grabbing a pen to jot down the date in her notebook. 

“Umm in a couple days,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I haven’t told many people yet, just Beth and Steph… and obviously now you.”

Renée nodded in understanding. “That’s completely fair. It’s a big thing, and you get to decide when and how you tell people. If you want, I can help you figure out the best way to tell the team when you’re ready.”

You let out a slow breath, some of the tension in your shoulders easing. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. That would be nice, thank you.”

Renée gave you an encouraging smile. “Of course. We’ll take it one step at a time. For now, just focus on what you need, and let me know how me and the staff can help.”

You nodded, feeling a little more at ease. It wasn’t going to be easy, but at least you weren’t doing it alone.

“Do you have anyone coming with you to your scan?” Renée asked, “Like your parents or the baby’s father?”

You hesitated, shifting in your seat. “Uh… no. My parents aren’t really talking to me much right now, and there’s no—” You swallowed, shaking your head. “It’s just me.”

Renée’s face softened, her head tilting slightly as she studied you. “That’s a lot to carry on your own.”

You gave a small shrug, looking down at your hands. “Beth and Steph have been great. But, yeah… it’s a lot.”

Renée nodded. “Well, if you ever need more support, we’ll figure it out together. You’re not alone in this, alright?”

You exhaled slowly, giving her a small, appreciative smile. “Alright.”

“Would you like someone to come with you to the scan? Beth or Steph maybe?” She offered. 

You bit your lip, considering it. You hadn’t really thought about it. The idea of going alone didn’t scare you exactly, but… it wasn’t exactly something you wanted to do by yourself either.

“…Maybe Beth?” you admitted hesitantly.

Renée nodded with a small smile. “I think she’d love to be there for you. Why don’t you ask her after training?”

You nodded slowly, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah… yeah, okay. I think she’s planning on coming anyway.”

Renée leaned back, glancing at the clock before looking at you again. “Do you want to train today?”

You hesitated, feeling a little drained from the conversation. But the idea of skipping didn’t sit right with you either.

“…Yeah, I think I do. Just need to keep my mind busy.”

Renée smiled, nodding. “Alright. Let’s get out there then.”

“One more thing before you go.” Renée added as you pushed yourself up from your seat. 

You paused, turning back to face her.

“I’ll need to liaise with the team doctors and physios to make sure we create a plan that keeps you and the baby safe,” she explained. “We’ll need to monitor your workload, adjust your training, and make sure you’re getting the right support like nutritionally, physically, and mentally.”

That made sense, but the thought of being fussed over still made your stomach twist. 

“I don’t want to be treated like I’m fragile,” you admitted, “I still want to train as much as I can.”

Renée gave you a small smile. “I get that. No one’s saying you can’t train, but we need to be careful about it. You’re an athlete, and pregnancy affects your body in a lot of ways. We want to make sure you stay as strong as possible while keeping you safe.”

You nodded, exhaling through your nose. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

“I’ll set up a meeting with the medical staff for later this week,” Renée continued. “You won’t have to make any big decisions right away, but we’ll figure it out step by step. Sound good?”

You hesitated for a second before nodding. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

“Good.” Renée smiled, then nodded toward the door. “Now go get changed before Beth comes looking for you.”

“Thank you, Renée.” You mumbled as you left her office. 

A few days later, it was the day of your first scan, you found yourself sitting in a small clinic room, nerves buzzing through your body. Beth sat beside you while Steph was on your other side, offering quiet reassurance.

“You okay?” Beth asked softly, noticing your knee bouncing up and down anxiously. 

You swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah, just… nervous I guess.”

Beth smiled gently. “It’s gonna be alright, kid.”

The sonographer called you in a few moments later, offering a friendly greeting as she let you into the room before getting everything set up. Your heart felt like it might beat out of your chest as you laid down on the bed before she moved the probe over your stomach, the screen coming to life with grainy black-and-white images.

And then, there it was.

A tiny flickering heartbeat.

Your breath hitched, and your eyes stung as you stared at the screen, barely able to process what you were seeing. “That’s… that’s the baby?”

The sonographer smiled. “That’s your baby.”

Beth smiled beside you, clearly emotional, and Steph just let out a shaky breath. “Oh my god,” Beth murmured. “That’s real.”

You couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, your heart swelling with something you couldn’t quite name. It was overwhelming, terrifying, but also… incredible.

That was your baby. 

In a few months you’d be responsible for that little person. 

“I…umm…how far along am I?” You asked the sonographer anxiously. 

She adjusted the probe slightly, studying the screen for a moment before responding. “You’re measuring at about seven weeks and two days.”

You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Seven weeks. It felt strange and fake, yet so real now, seeing the tiny flickering heartbeat on the screen.

Beth gave your hand a gentle squeeze, her eyes still locked on the image. “That’s wild,” she murmured. “That’s your little one in there, H.”

Steph nudged you lightly. “You okay, Hayden?”

You swallowed, nodding slowly. “Yeah. Just… it’s a lot.”

The sonographer continued taking measurements, noting everything down before turning back to you. “Everything looks good so far. Baby’s growing well, and the heartbeat is strong. Would you like a picture to take home?”

You hesitated for a second before nodding. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

As she printed out the image and handed it to you, you stared down at the tiny shape on the paper, tracing the outline with your thumb. It still felt surreal, but for the first time since seeing that positive test, the fear wasn’t quite as overwhelming.

As the appointment wrapped up, the sonographer handed you some paperwork and a few leaflets about prenatal care. “Your next scan will be when you’re twelve weeks, but if you have any concerns before then, don’t hesitate to contact us.”

You nodded, gripping the ultrasound picture a little tighter. “Thank you.”

After the scan, as you sat in Beth’s car clutching the ultrasound pictures. 

“I want to tell the team,” you said quietly. “At training tomorrow.”

“You sure?” Beth asked you, “There’s no rush but it’s up to you, H.”

You nodded, still staring at the little image in your hands. "Yeah. I mean, I'm still scared, but... I don't want to keep hiding it. And after seeing��" You exhaled shakily, tracing your thumb over the tiny shape again. "It feels real now. I think I'm ready."

Steph nodded from the front seat, "We'll be right there with you."

Beth smiled, starting the engine. "They're gonna support you, H. Just like we do."

The next morning, your stomach twisted with nerves as you walked into the training ground. You decided to tell Kyra separately, she was your best friend and you wanted her to know first.  

The pair you had become close since she’d joined Arsenal, she found the move difficult and you ended up supporting her a lot. The two of you were inseparable sometimes. 

“Hey, uh… can I talk to you real quick?”

Kyra nodded her head as she got changed in the empty changing room quickly, “Yeah, everything alright?”

“I—um, I’ve been meaning to tell you something, but I wasn’t sure how.” You said, fidgeting with your hands. “I’m… I’m pregnant.”

Kyra nearly choked as she took a sip of water. “Wait, what?!”

Her eyes were wide as she stared at you, mouth slightly open. “You’re—you’re actually serious?”

You nodded, feeling your face heat up. “Yeah. Had my first scan yesterday.”

Kyra blinked, then shot up from her seat. “Holy shit, H!” Before you could react, she was pulling you into a hug, squeezing you tightly. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You let out a breathless laugh, surprised by her reaction, you thought she would’ve been more of a pest. “I—I was scared, I guess.”

Kyra pulled back, “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Are you, like, gonna be okay with all this?”

Her rapid-fire questions made you smile despite your nerves. “I think so. Beth and Steph have been looking out for me.”

Kyra nodded, her jaw tightening slightly. “Good. ‘Cause if you need anything, literally anything, I’m here, alright?”

You nodded, emotion swelling in your chest. “Thanks, Ky.”

Later on you decided to tell the team. Beth walked beside you as you entered the meeting room, offering a reassuring nudge, while Steph gave you a quick squeeze on the shoulder before heading to her seat. The team meeting was just about to start, and Renée had agreed to help you break the news before training.

You stood near the front, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt as the team settled in. Normally, these meetings were routine, just updates and tactical plans, but today felt different. Heavier.

Renée cleared her throat, glancing at you before addressing the group. “Alright, before we get started, Hayden has something she wants to share with you all.”

A few heads turned toward you, some curious, some concerned. Your heart pounded as you forced yourself to speak. “Uh… yeah.” You exhaled shakily, gripping the ultrasound picture in your pocket like a lifeline. “So, um… I— I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Fuck. 

It stretched for a second too long, the weight of your words sinking in before the room erupted.

“What?!” “No way!” “Are you serious?”

You braced yourself for the reactions, half-expecting judgment, but it never came. Instead, Katie let out a loud cackle, clapping her hands together. “No fucking way, H! Yer’ having a baby?”

You nodded hesitantly, and before you could react, half the team was talking over each other. Lotte gasped, Emily leaned forward with wide eyes, and Caitlin smirked at you with a knowing look.

“When were you gonna tell us?” Lia teased, crossing her arms.

“I— I wanted to wait until my first scan,” you admitted, suddenly feeling overwhelmed as the attention bore down on you. “Just to make sure everything was okay.”

Beth, still standing beside you, placed a grounding hand on your back. “She had the scan yesterday. Baby’s measuring at seven weeks and healthy.”

A chorus of congratulations filled the room, some louder than others.

Alessia, practically buzzing with excitement, leaned forward. “Can we see the picture?”

You hesitated for a second before pulling the ultrasound from your pocket, handing it to her. She looked at it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, before passing it to Lotte, who did the same. It made its way around the room, each of your teammates reacting with awe, shock, or amusement.

“Congrats, H!” Katie said, wrapping you in a hug, “Yer gonna be a Mammy!”

You giggled before Leah wrapped you in a hug next, “I thought it was negative?”

You huffed, “So did I but it looks like the plans changed.”

“Well, congrats.” Leah nudged you with a warm smile. “You’ve got all of us, you know that, right?”

You nodded, exhaling softly. “Yeah… I know.”

Caitlin grinned. “So, are we getting a little footballer in the making or what?”

You let out a breathy laugh, some of the tension leaving your shoulders. “Dunno yet. Just hoping they don’t inherit my crap first touch.”

That earned a round of laughter, the atmosphere lightening again.

Renée finally clapped her hands, bringing everyone back. “Alright, alright, let’s get focused. We’ve got training to get to.”

You sighed as you sat down, you felt lighter, like you didn’t have to hide things anymore. You knew it was gonna be tough but you had a lot of support around you

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington showing up to Hellfire made sense.

He knew the kids. After The Incident of which they Do Not Speak Of, he knew Eddie. There was a friendship there that was pulling him into Hellfire’s orbit, and the elder members followed their leader's cues when it came to jocks who had decided to redeem themselves and evolve into beloved town hall heroes. 

Showing up to Corroded Coffin’s recently restarted band practice required a bit more adjusting, but it was fine. 

Everything was fine.

Steve showing up in the middle of a heated, completely nonsensical argument with Eddie, was also, unfortunately, growing to be something normal and fine--but arguing over Jeff specifically?

That was a little harder to ignore. 

“That’s my Robin.”  Eddie had started, pointing sternly towards Jeff as he marched up Gareth’s driveway. 

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“You already claimed Gareth as your Robin, you can't also claim Jeff.”

Yes I can! Because I have two--no, no, three!” Eddie counted on waiving fingers, “I have three Robin's, Grant’s one too!

Jeff blinked, before turning to his other bandmates. “Any idea about what this is about or…”

Nope.” Gareth refused to even look at the duo arguing. “And I don't want to know.”

“Okay then.” 

“They each have different specialties,” Eddie was animatedly arguing, having stopped in the center of the garage to square up to Steve. “So combined they make up one Robin.” 

“That's not how that works!” Steve loudly scoffed, arms winging out in a way that disturbingly, looked like a move he had copied from Eddie. 

He got a smirk in return. “Don't  be mad because I'm more popular than you are these days, Steven.” 

Oh now they were approaching dangerous territory-- Eddie was getting smug.

A smug Eddie, Jeff knew, was an obnoxious Eddie. The kind of obnoxious that refused to let things go and claimed victory over random bullshit. The type of obnoxious that would take weeks to kill, with them all suffering through Eddie’s crowing in the meantime.

Given the look on Steve’s face, he knew it too.

There was only one way to prevent the monster known as Smug Eddie, and that was to cut him at the knees before he properly got started. 

Something no member of Hellfire had ever before managed to accomplish--on purpose.

Steve, Jeff thought, was not a member of Hellfire. 

With a sudden and distrustworthy narrowing of his eyes, the ex-jock asked. “Didn't you say Jeff bakes?”

“No--” Eddie spat instantly but it was too late, Steve was already turning and--oh God, trying to pull Jeff into this shit. 

“Yes--hey Jeff, man, do you bake?”

“Uh…”

Grant looked between Steve, Eddie and Jeff, before taking one giant step to the right of them all.

The traitor. 

“Don't answer that!” Eddie commanded, stalking around to put himself between Jeff and Steve. “Do not answer that!” 

“I--yeah?” Jeff answered anyway, confused to hell but choosing to trust Steve on this one.   

Unfortunately for Corroded Coffin as a whole, and Jeff specifically, what they were missing was the fact that Steve could be a downright petty bitch. 

“What’s the hardest thing you can reliably bake?” 

It took a moment for Jeff to realize Steve was still talking to him, given his eyes were locked onto Eddie’s. 

“I like doing those kind complicated swirls with frosting sometimes?” Realizing how that sounded he quickly added; “To make cool patterns and shit!”

Steve nodded once, before boldly declaring: “I'm taking Jeff.” 

Eddie sputtered. 

“No you are not--” 

“That way,” Steve said, steamrolling right over, “you have two and I have two.”  

“Were not sharing cookies here, Steve!” 

“I know,” Steve retorted and oh God, now he sounded smug, “because Jeff and I haven't baked them yet.

“No--no! Jeff, Jeffery look at me.” The older teen whirled around to face Jeff, face serious. “You are forbidden to bake with this heathen.” 

“Wow, controlling much?” Steve drawled, moving fluidly around to stand shoulder to shoulder with Eddie, facing Jeff. With a weighty sincerity, he said, “I would never tell you what to do.”

“Yes he would! Yes He absolutely would! 

“What the fuck.” Jeff muttered, as they both continued to stare at him while maintaining their argument with each other. 

“You made eye contact, this is on you.” Grant told him. 

20 minutes later and Jeff would finally announce he was not going to do anything with anyone until after band practice. 

20 hours later, Steve would invite himself into Jeff’s house with a bag full of baking ingredients and a look in his eye that terrified Jeff more than Jason ever had. 

2 days later, Eddie would loudly declare Jeff’s status as a traitor, only to renounce it five seconds later after Gareth shoved one of the cookies they baked in his mouth mid rant. Only then would he agree that Steve could have Jeff as “his second Robin.” 

Unfortunately, he did this in front of the real Robin, who, as it turns out, can give one hell of a rant. 

(Later, Jeff, Grant and Gareth would loudly declare Robin their Queen and expert in all things Steve and Eddie, going so far as to present her with a Burger King crown to seal the deal. 

She would proudly wear it, despite all the bitching it caused from Steve and Eddie.) 

[sublimati0ns]

daily koss #29: if we only have one shot… better make it count, right?

Since I started on the 18th of February, today marks the one month anniversary of me drawing these wretched old men every day!!! I wanted to make something special for it, so I tried my hand at a comic (even though I am NOT good at comics—dear god, paneling is so unintuitive for me that I ended up wrangling this into a webtoon format just to avoid it).

Despite the increasing level of render and polish on my dailies over the past two weeks, this is the first time I’ve really, actually tried to flex my art muscles and apply my braincells to a piece 😂 Here’s to hoping my work paid off! I have now, officially, moved from low-effort shitposts to real-effort seriousposts 😔

(Also, if you’ve never read a webtoon before, hopefully the long-scroll format wasn’t too jarring! >_<)

A meta aspect I love about KOSS is that Transformers is a multi-timeline franchise: Knock Out and Starscream exist across multiple different continuities, sometimes alongside each other, sometimes not. But they only really ‘work’ in TFP, despite them both having other characters as constants (Breakdown, Megatron). If this were any other world, and they were any other versions of themselves, they might not even have been coworkers—just ships passing in the night.

And yet, the perfect storm of random events led to them being in one thing together, with a compelling dynamic at that (even an entire episode that puts it on blast!!!). Sometimes I think about how, according to the TFP artbook, Knock Out was originally conceived as something of a counterpart to Bumblebee—another fast, pretty car, except a villain this time—but the writers ended up fleshing out his relationship with Starscream the most. I wonder what the thought process behind that was—did the devs find their dynamic fun to play with as well?—and whether the two would get more moments together if Prime wasn’t cancelled…

But I digress! The fact I discovered TFP in the first place is the cherry on top of the serendipity-cake; I never imagined I’d ever get into Transformers, but one impulsive ‘hey, what if we watched the new Transformers movie’ from Lacuna at 3AM in the dead of January changed the trajectory of my life.

I’ve always been really bad at committing to projects for over a month at a time—I often find myself burnt out and restless after only a few days, even. So to still have so much drive and inspiration to create fanworks—for KOSS, of course, but an assortment of other pairings and properties too—is such a novel and exciting experience. My tune may change at a moment’s notice (I can be very fickle), but for now I’m eager to keep scribbling on 🥰I already have something planned for the next week of Daily KOSS hehehe~

Anyway, things referenced in the comic!

G1 cartoon s01e13 “Fire in the Sky”

2019 IDW continuity Tread & Circuits issues 2, 3, and 4

Armada episode 48

TFA s02e03 “Mission Accomplished” and s03e13 “Endgame II”

2005 IDW continuity “Choose Me,” Spotlight: Megatron, and Annual 2017 “Chosen One”

And it’s probably obvious from the art, but I love the juxtaposition of Starscream being tortured by god in every other universe while Knock Out is either happily married or doesn’t exist.

[ssa-dado]

Aaron's Speech

Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader Genre: whump, prepare your tissues kind of whump. hurt to comfort? what's comfort anyways? Summary: Aaron was certain he knew what love was - until Haley died. He loves you. But he still loves her, too. Warnings: clear signs of deep depression, PTSD, trauma, self-neglet, survivor's guilt, grief, mentions of 5×01 and 5×09 Please please please do not interact with this fic if you struggle with any of these. Word Count: 3.9k Dado's Corner: I... I don't know. It's a lot. Grab your tissues. This might be the most heart-wrenching thing I've ever written… and honestly, I’m a little scared of my own brain for managing to hallucinate this. I went back and forth on whether to post it because it just felt too much... :)))) I ended up adding a little extra at the end (something fluffy & domestic) just to take the edge off. But it’s still bittersweet. More bitter than sweet.

masterlist(s)

Plato wrote, "I mean to propose that each of us in turn, going left to right, shall make a speech in honor of Love."

Aaron wasn’t sure how to make sense of the fact that the very job that had stripped him down to nothing was also the reason he could still touch you like this.

That the same job that had taken… her, that had nearly taken his son - was also the reason he could still slip under the covers with you and lose himself just enough to relieve the stress of your days.

It wasn’t intimacy, not really.

Not in the way it was meant to be.

It was a release, a fleeting reprieve from the thoughts that never stopped, from the memories that threatened to drown him if he let them sit too long.

Sometimes, it was rough - driven by nothing but the desperate need to feel something, anything. Other times, it was slower, gentler.

But one thing never changed - he always kept his shirt on.

A week ago, it had been long sleeves. The scars were only on his torso, but for a long time, that hadn’t mattered. He had fought the urge to cover everything, to disappear beneath the fabric.

He felt dirty. He was dirty.

Didn’t want to see them. Didn’t want you to see them.

The only times you had were when he had no choice - when he was too weak, too drained to tend to them himself.

Then came the day he finally found the courage to face his reflection in the mirror. When he told you he could handle it now - that he had to - you hadn’t argued. You had only pressed a soft kiss to his lips before watching him disappear into the bathroom. You didn’t say a word. You trusted him. Had to trust him.

And when he came back, you kissed him again.

You still did. Every time.

Even today.

It had become a ritual – an ineffable I’m proud of you, a way to be close without needing to be there physically. Because even if you weren’t, your mind always went there.

You hoped he applied the medication carefully.

Hoped that, in tending to himself, he showed the same meticulous care he gave to you - the way he would sit you in a warm bath, wash your hair, run his hands over your skin with a gentleness so at odds with how he treated himself.

He gave you devotion. You wished he gave himself even half of it.

You hoped that every time you heard the water running, it was only to sterilize his hands - that he wasn’t standing over the sink, letting the antiseptic swirl down the drain, just enough to make it seem used, just enough to fool you. You knew he wasn’t stupid.

You had been more cautious ever since the day he caught you in the bathroom, turning the bottle over in your hands, checking for dents, for any proof that he was actually using it.

He hadn’t been angry. He understood. It wasn’t about distrust - not really.

If the roles were reversed, he knew he would have done the same.

…No, actually, he didn’t even need to imagine reversing them. He had checked. More than once. Because he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself anymore.

Because ever since he started tending to them on his own, he never let you see his scars again.

Maybe some subconscious part of him feared that if you did, you wouldn’t want him anymore.

Or maybe because he didn’t want to remind you - of what had happened to him, of the fear in your eyes, of the way your hands had trembled the first time they traced the edges of his pain.

Or maybe it wasn’t even about you.

Maybe he was afraid that if you saw them again, your mind would go back to the past, to the before, to all the things he lost…

…And, inevitably, to her.

Haley was only a problem because he made her one.

She was never a threat to you. You had never felt the need to compete with her because you understood something he probably never would: that a heart as vast as his had room for both of you.

That was simply part of loving him - even before everything that happened, even when they were just divorced - loving him meant sharing space in his heart with Haley.

And that was enough. More than enough. You never needed or wanted all of it.

He was the one who couldn’t reconcile it.

One true love.

It had been carved into him as a child, a belief so deeply rooted that no amount of logic could ever fully undo it. Sure, he could scoff at it now, call it outdated, tell himself he was too rational to believe in something so absolute.

But some lies told to us as children settle too deep to simply unlearn, and for Aaron, it was this: that love - true love - could only happen once.

And he hated that it had been her.

Not because he regretted loving her, but because it made him feel as though loving you somehow diminished that first love - or worse, that it made you her replacement.

You weren’t.

You were nothing like her. You were only you.

And yet, both of you had looked at him with the same kind of eyes - the kind that saw too much, worried too much.

And sometimes, despite himself, he wondered if that was why he fell in love with you.

Because of those eyes. To keep those eyes in his life.

But just as quickly as the thought came, so did the guilt. Not just because it wasn’t true, but because his mind had dared to go there at all.

…But if it had gone there, it meant some part of him believed it.

And he hated that.

Hated overanalyzing it.

Hated the way his own mind twisted something simple, something pure, into something that needed justification.

Hated that he had to dissect his love for you just to convince himself it was real, when he already knew it was.

Because it was real.

He hadn’t fallen in love with you because of anything you shared with her - he had fallen for you because of everything that made you you. Maybe he had even fallen harder once he realized that.

If Reid could see inside his head, he would have some scientific explanation for all of this. Something about neurochemistry.

He would tell him that guilt was irrational, that love was nothing more than a biological process designed to make humans bond, reproduce, and survive.

But that was what he hated most.

Not the surviving part. Not just the thought of contributing to the same human species that had created the kind of monsters he locked away every day.

Though, on the worst nights… maybe that too.

What he hated was the idea that it all boiled down to a few chemical formulas, a handful of C’s and O’s arranged on a page. That somewhere out there, a person could take one look at the sequence and know him, know the core of who he was.

Bullshit. That couldn't be possible.

Not when he wasn’t even sure he had a core anymore.

What was there to read?

Aaron had spent a lifetime believing love was what the poets described - the grand, the eternal, the tragic. Yet only… after everything that happened… had he begun to understand what they truly meant.

The Greek tragedies, the sonnets - some resonated so deeply now they ached, others felt so hollow he wondered how he’d ever admired them… how he had ever believed love could be so naïve.

Maybe, in the end, a few chemical bonds and molecular chains would have been simpler. Maybe they would have told him more about himself than poetry ever could.

How simple it was - that the tears he left on your skin, warm against your sternum as he pressed his face into you, could be reduced by science to nothing more than water and salt.

As if that could explain why he was crying.

As if it could account for the guilt gnawing at him, the shame of being allowed to break against you while your own tears slipped down your cheeks, unseen, as you stared at the ceiling.

As if it could break down the only closeness he could offer now - the desperate act of syncing his unsteady breaths to yours.

He just wanted to be your rock again.

Maybe science had a way to explain the guilt - the shame of falling apart in your arms, of letting you hold him, pull him closer, your fingers threading through strands of hair that hadn’t been this long in three years.

And then, the moment your hands unconsciously drifted too low - past the nape of his neck, following the path they once knew so well, tracing the lines of his back-

It wasn’t you touching him anymore.

But it was you. You were safe. You were here.

And still, his body jerked up.

It wasn’t fair.

No matter how much he wanted to surrender to your touch again, no matter how much he wished he could unlearn the fear, his body still braced for a blade instead of your hands.

Maybe science had a way to explain why.

Maybe it could name the way his body had learned to fear something it once - and still - craved more than anything.

Maybe there was a chemical formula that could define the way you both whispered "sorry" at the same time whenever it happened.

Maybe there was an equation, an angle, a perfect placement for the carbon bonds that could explain why, after flinching, after failing, he reached for your wrist. Why he brought it to his lips, pressed a kiss to the thundering pulse beneath your skin.

The skin was thinner there.

Maybe, if he kissed deep enough, his apology would sink into your bloodstream, carried by the oxygen in your blood, traveling through your veins until it reached your heart - so you’d know.

That he loved you.

He loved you, he loved you, he loved you.

And he needed you.

Needed your hands back on every inch of his skin - even on the places his mind dragged him back to, bleeding out on the carpet of his own living space, where he was assault-

“Aaron.”

“Hmm.”

“I want hot chocolate.” You shifted, sitting up on the bed, stretching your arms above your head. “And I need your help cutting the chocolate. Come on.”

Nothing still.

So you reached over, patted his head, ruffling his hair. “You know I never get the pieces small enough… get up.”

You didn’t even like chocolate that much.

But he did.

Aaron Hotchner, with his unreadable expressions and haunted eyes, had the biggest sweet tooth you had ever known.

It was one of the first things you noticed about him - the way he’d sneak sugar into his coffee when he thought no one was looking, the way he never turned down dessert, the way he’d order an extra pastry under the guise of “Jack will like this” when Jack wasn’t even there.

Hot chocolate was easy.

Because cutting chocolate into tiny, even pieces was something his hands could still do.

The day he finally handled a knife again without flinching, you had seized every possible excuse to make him keep doing it - to ease him back into muscle memory, to give his hands something to focus on. Just like now.

Him, and all of his ghosts, disappearing into the rhythm of slicing through a bar of fondant chocolate.

"See? When you cut it this small, the chocolate doesn’t fray. How do you do that?" You leaned in, watching him work. “Wait, was this your specialty back in SWAT?”

Nothing. Again.

God forbid anyone joke about his very secretive time in an all-men squad of alpha males, big guns, tactical gear, night vision-

“You want me to show you?”

You nodded.

You expected him to explain from where he stood, maybe demonstrate with another piece - but you hadn't expected him to step behind you. Once, maybe, but not now.

And yet, here he was.

Did not expect to feel his warmth again - his body against yours, his chest flush to your back, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, his huge hands slipping over yours, guiding them to the handle of the knife.

"It’s in the pressure," he said, curling his fingers around yours, adjusting your grip. "Too much, and it crumbles. Too little, and it slips. You want the blade to do the work."

Damn. It was so intimate, so familiar-

God, this felt like… like one of your first dates. Back when he was still - no.

You swallowed, pushed the thought away, and focused. Followed his movement, feeling the blade glide through the chocolate beneath your fingertips - clean, effortless - perfect.

Just like his.

"There," he murmured. "Like that." And then, a kiss to your hair. "You did good."

So did he. God, he did. And you were so proud of him.

So you picked up one of the pieces he had helped you cut, rolling it between your fingers before holding it out to him.

"Quality check."

You had never fought back tears so hard as when you felt it - the smallest huff of breath against your hair. A sound, barely there, but unmistakable.

The closest thing to a laugh you'd heard from him all day.

You would cut all the chocolate in the world if it meant hearing that sound again.

And maybe you would - because he could have easily taken the piece from your hand himself.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his lips ghosted over your fingertips, his tongue dragging over your skin far too slowly as he caught the chocolate - before his teeth closed down, just sharp enough to be obnoxious.

That stupid bite.

Familiar.

The same bite that always made you swat him away, roll your eyes, mutter his name in exasperation.

The same bite that caught your fingertips every single time you offered him one of your fries, because Aaron Hotchner - who pretended to be far too above it - always ordered a salad as a side, only to spend the whole meal subtly eyeing your plate.

He would never ask for one, of course. God forbid.

So you always caved, sighing as you picked up a fry and held it out toward him, fully intending to place it onto his plate like a normal person.

But he never let you.

Instead, he would catch your fingers midair, biting down - not hard, but enough to make you yelp, enough to make your head snap toward him, enough to make you curse his name loud enough that the people at the next table would turn to look.

And then - as if he hadn’t just eaten out of your damn fingers in public – he’d sit back, napkin in hand, dabbing the corner of his mouth.

“Shh,” he’d say. “We’re at a fancy place. Can’t you see there are no prices on your menu?”

Condescending. Smirking. Like he wasn’t the one causing all the drama.

The same insufferable piece of shit he had always been.

And maybe that’s why you didn’t swat him away this time.

Maybe that’s why you just stood there, breath caught in your throat, only managing to turn around and stare at the glimpse of a ghost you hadn’t expected to see.

You knew it was temporary, just a matter of time before the weight settled back over him. But still- still, for a moment, you just watched.

His kitchen was now so quiet you could hear the crisp snap of chocolate between his teeth, the exaggerated hum of approval he always did just to startle you, always holding eye contact, watching – waiting - like your reaction was more satisfying than the chocolate itself.

“What?” he asked, furrowing his brows.

Under the yellow glow of the kitchen lights, his eyes looked lighter - a softer brown, warm in a way you hadn’t seen in far too long. You could see the few flecks of green – a similar shade of the untouched, steamed bitter greens he always left on his plate at fancy restaurants.

Could you even tell him?

Could you say that, for just a second, he wasn’t trapped in his own head, and that alone made you want to cry?

Of course not.

So you just shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"Nothing," you murmured, turning back to the counter. "Just…. don't think you're getting more if you're gonna keep biting me."

“Then maybe you should stop feeding me like a child.” He huffed, leaned against the counter next to you, unbothered… almost – smug?

Hotchner humor. This must be Christmas.

"Oh, forgive me, Your Royal Highness, how would you prefer to be fed?"

"Well, if I had to suggest something…" he drawled, gaze dropping to your lips, "you could be more creative with it."

No way. You couldn’t believe it.

"Creative?"

He nodded. "Mhm."

No way.

You picked up half a piece of chocolate, pressed it between your lips - hesitated.

Maybe this was too much. Maybe the moment would crack, fragile as it was. Maybe you’d gone too far, been too reckless.

But still, you held his gaze, tilting your head ever so slightly, offering.

And waiting.

Before you even realized it, his lips were on yours, closing over the other half of the chocolate, pressing just enough to steal more than you had offered.

Asshole.

But God, did he take his time.

His tongue flickered over the chocolate, then back over you – unhurried - before he finally pulled away, his breath still so close you could almost taste the cocoa all over again. Wow.

“…Creative enough?” you managed.

Aaron slowly ran his tongue over his half-brown bottom lip. "It’s a start."

…A start.

Maybe it was. It felt like one.

Also because Aaron stayed close, studying your face, searching for something in your eyes.

If he found what he was looking for, he didn’t say. He just looked at you a moment longer and gave you one last smile.

A goodbye - not to you, but to your eyes, because in that moment, they looked too much like hers.

And maybe a part of him had always been waiting for this moment - when he could finally look into that gaze, your gaze, and know without hesitation that it wasn’t hers. That it had never been.

So he let go of the thought.

He reached past you, plucking another piece of chocolate from the cutting board and popping it into his mouth like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just left something behind.

"You should finish cutting the rest," he said, unfazed by your exasperated "Aaron."

"Me?"

"You did well enough." He nodded, though you knew him well enough to catch the hint of teasing in his voice. "Besides, I should get the milk on the stove…. can’t have you burning it again."

You scoffed. "That was one time, and only because your stove is way too strong."

"You say that every time you cook here… which, if I’m counting correctly, is once a week."

"You’re exaggerating," you muttered, but you still reached for the knife, rolling your eyes as you started chopping again.

Silence.

Silence until Aaron turned toward you as he poured the milk into the pot.

"…Thank you for what you’re doing for me. I don’t say it enough… not out loud."

You glanced up, smiling. "It’s all you, Aaron. I’m not doing anything."

“Bullshit.” He turned, eyeing the cutting board. “You’re cutting the chocolate.”

Before you could respond, he reached over and plucked a piece from the pile, popping it into his mouth.

"Really?" you deadpanned.

He stole another.

"This one was uneven," he said, completely straight-faced.

And then another.

"Do you even want hot chocolate, or are you just here to rob me blind?"

Aaron smirked - and for once, it would have been so damn nice to just enjoy seeing his dimples - if only he hadn’t, completely unrepentantly, reached for yet another piece.

You swatted his hand before he could grab it. "Oh my God, you really are just here to rob me blind."

Defeated, Aaron turned back to the stove, deciding it was safer to keep his hands occupied. He stirred the milk with far more focus than necessary... so much so that you half-wondered if he was trying to churn it into cream.

Maybe if he just kept moving, he could resist the temptation of another impromptu quality check… hopefully.

Or maybe, it wasn’t about the chocolate at all.

"Do you really think you’re not doing anything?" he asked. His eyes were still on the pot, but the way he had slowed his stirring - no longer overcompensating, no longer distrac-

"You are," he continued, looking at you. "You’re here. You stayed. And that’s… that’s more than I knew how to ask for."

"You can ask, you know," you murmured. "You need to say the words, Aaron."

Someone else had told him the exact same words once.

And still, he hadn’t learned how to listen.

Maybe he never would.

Maybe it was just the way he was - stubborn in his silence, in his inability to believe he was allowed to need something, someone.

But still, he cared.

He cared in the way he stole more chocolate than he should have - not just because of his sweet tooth, but because he knew you didn’t like it that much. Or at least, that’s what he told himself.

Because he didn’t want the taste to overpower, didn’t want to make it too rich when he knew you’d only take a few sips before pushing your cup toward him, like you always did.

He cared in the way he let the chocolate sit on the stove just a little longer, thickening the way you preferred it.

In the way he never stopped you, even when you added far more cinnamon than he would have chosen for himself.

In the way he didn’t say a word.

Maybe he should. He needed to say the words. Maybe just start with some.

And so his grip tightened around the mug, the heat pressing into his palms, seeping into his skin.

He could feel it, the warmth.

He had never noticed before how much he liked the way it settled in his fingers, how it grounded him, how it made him feel… alive.

Like he was rediscovering - all over again - that if he held on too long, it would burn.

And it did.

Science might explain it as heat conduction - the transfer of thermal energy from the liquid to the ceramic, from the ceramic to his skin, exciting the molecules in his nerve endings until they fired signals to his brain, warning him of the impending risk of tissue damage.

A perfectly rational, biological response.

But not everything he felt could be charted in nerve endings and synapses, reduced to chemical reactions or evolutionary instinct.

Some things defied explanation.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Aaron.”

Good luck to the scientists trying to reduce that to a handful of chemical bonds and neural pathways.

Maybe they could try.

They’d still get it wrong.

Ineffable.

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @oxforce ; @percysley ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

Phi's Corner: I’m sorry if this made you cry… as an apology, I’m sending each of you a piece of focaccia... let me know if you want it with or without olives.

[inthelibrarybtw]

you want me to pretend? | four

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: college!basketball!captain!rafe x college!student!reader content: fluff, teasing, college au, smau/irl

summary: You were trying to make one problem disappear. You were tired, so you lied. That small lie led you to contact the last person you wanted to ask for help. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Rafe; only that you didn’t want to deal with his constant teasing more than you already did. Also, you two weren't that close, but this one lie was going to bring you two closer and maybe help some truths come to light.

word count: 0.9k

authors note: maybe my favorite chapter so far. so thankful for all the support on this, I love to see your comments and what you guys think will happen love y'all.

03 | 04 | 05

Friday

Saturday

“Now that we both have our coffees, let’s talk,” Rafe said as both of you sat down.

“Okay…”

“Look, just before we start, I’m sorry if I overstepped. I didn’t mean to mess up your plan.”

“It’s okay, Rafe. I understand why you did it. You thought it through more than I did; it’s all good, I promise. But we do need to talk about what happens with this.”

“Are you asking me what we should do?”

“Yes, because the situation right now is weird. I always tell my parents everything, like not in a strange way or—” he cuts you off.

“You have a good relationship with them; I saw that.” You smiled softly.

“Yeah, I do. So, me not telling them that I was dating someone is already a big deal. If, let’s say, next week I tell them we’re not together anymore, it’s going to be weird.”

“Yeah, so how long do you want this to go on for?”

“You really don’t mind doing this for longer than two nights?”

“I told you yesterday it’s okay; it’s not the usual favor, but it’s fine.” Your mind took you back to what Angie had said to you, but you quickly brushed it off. He is just doing this because he likes to help, and he is your friend, you told yourself.

“I just have to be sure.”

“By all means, so how long? Two months?”

“Two months?” you asked, a bit shocked. “I was thinking one…”

“Most couples break up after the three-month mark, not exactly at the three-month mark.”

“You seem to know a lot about this.”

“I’m just saying, if you say you want to make things believable, then let’s ‘break up’ right before Thanksgiving.”

“My birthday is next month.”

“So?”

“Usually, I invite my family and some friends over, and now I would have to invite you. We can’t do this in front of our friends; we need some ground rules.”

“Fine by me.” Rafe took his phone out and opened the notes app to annotate. “One, no one—and I mean NO ONE—has to know besides us.”  

“Copy that.”  

“Two, we pretend only in my house, and when my parents are there, of course.”  

“Yeah, okay. So pretending means what? Because I didn’t do much yesterday.”  

“Like, physical touch is okay when we are with my parents—like holding hands and hugging, I guess.”  

“And kisses?” he smirked teasingly.  

“On the cheek.”  

“Forehead?”  

“Yeah, that too.”  

“Lips?”  he wiggled his eyebrows

“Jesus, Rafe.”  

“It’s a genuine question, Y/N.” You knew he wasn’t really asking; he was just doing it to mess with you.  

“Pecks only, nothing more.”  

“Copy that, ma'am.” He did a little salute while smirking. “Pet names? I already called you princess yesterday. Is that okay, or should I stop?”  

“If you need to use them, then fine; but still the same, only around my parents.”  

“Well, that’s gonna be hard.”  

“That’s not really my problem,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee, and he chuckled.  

“Okay, so we are set… we continue this and break up before Thanksgiving.”  

“Sounds good… oh wait, under no circumstances are you staying over at my house.”  

“Why is this important?” he asked, confused.  

“The last guy I dated stayed over a couple of times because it was too late or something with the weather.” He nodded while you talked.  

“Okay then, no staying over.” He typed on his phone. “Now we are set.”  

“Thank you, Rafe…”  

“You're welcome.”  

After that talk, you two kept the conversation going. It was like the dinner the day before had been a good icebreaker and opened the door to getting to know Rafe and becoming friends. A couple of hours went by, and then you said your goodbyes and went to your respective cars.

Today

Even after your talk with Rafe, you were still anxious about the whole situation. But today was different; it was more of a chill setting—game night, snacks, and living room-only vibes. For most of the afternoon, it was just like that.

Establishing ground rules had improved your dynamic; he knew what he could and couldn’t do, and you knew what to expect, so your anxiety was more under control this time around. He grabbed your hand or played with your hair. It was a good afternoon that extended a bit longer, so of course, when you thought everything was done for the day, it wasn’t.

Your dad seemed to be your biggest enemy this weekend. Since he had told Rafe to stay and watch the basketball game that night, and of course, Rafe said yes. Now you were sitting on the couch with Rafe and your dad, watching a game while you scrolled through your phone, not caring about whatever was happening in front of you. From time to time, Rafe grabbed your thigh in stress, and even though you knew you had given him permission to do things like that, you still felt a bit weirded out by it all.

To take your mind off the whole situation currently unfolding, you decided to give Angie an update on what had happened and what was going to happen. It was also a good idea to keep yourself busy before you went to help your mom with dinner, which Rafe had offered to help with because he wanted to know what made your mom’s food so great.

taglist: @zyafics @maybankslover @niaunoffical @marleymarleymarleymarley @rafesbabygirlx @akobx @papercranesandinkstains @drewstarkeyspecs @winterivory @my-name-is-baby @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @drewrry @ursogorgeous13 @pr3tty-pink @lmaowhatt @reeseswirl @xoxosblogsblog @lili-swagalicious @ayy1234567 @rihannamars @congratsloserr @moonywhisp3rs @iamheretoread1234 @rafesdrew @bee-43 @pogueprincesa @cokewithcameron @landososcar @drewstarkeyslover if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :) follow and turn on notifications on @inthelibrarybtw-notifs to get updates on everything i write

REBLOGS, COMMENTS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS WELCOMED

INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.*

[mercurio-shadowz]

I LOVE U.

ahem, anyways-

art tutorial when?? man i love your artstyle sm and i wanna learn how to draw these gay mfs too 😭😭

fr though how do you do it. like as a new artist, HOWWWW??

<333

OMG HIIIIIII

Aaaaaaa

Honestly, my only advice as a non expert and frankly kinda mediocre sonic artist is to practice a lot by copying references and don’t be discouraged when you don’t get things right at the first attempt

This was my very first Shadow. My son. He has every disease

At the beginning I really refused to use references for some strange reason, which truly hindered my progress, making it go at a snail’s pace compared to if I kept on studying and copying reference images (my references are post reboot archie comic panels, Sonic X screen caps and SA2 2d renders, by the way xD)

ART PROCESS RAMBLE UNDER THE CUTTTT (with funny looking art lol)

Plus I had no clue how to deal with mobian anatomy after exclusively drawing humans for years… so poor shadow would either look like a hot air balloon or like Sonic’s weirdly shaped little brother [ b A D]

Eventually I started letting moderately loose with the whole anatomy shebang, but things were nowhere near how I wanted them to look.

It all still felt rough around the edges. In fact, someone thought my shit was so ASS they traced the second drawing and posted a version in their style to their twitter without any credits xD. that’s a story for another day, but I honestly don’t blame them, shit’s kinda poopie!!

Anyway, I started to find my footing the more I used references and the more I studied the style in my own way [by tracing the references and seeing which shape goes where ] So, lesson learned basically, if you wanna learn how to draw the blorbo, you shall study the blorbo

The only other piece of advice I think I can give is . Circles. Use circles for their faces. It makes your life so so easy holy shit why did I stubbornly refuse to DO SO FOR WEEKS AAAAAA . Child me had the right idea sfbjvkf.

And that’s all for blorbo tips and tricks from my own perspective I think XD. It’s basically just a whole lotta looking at reference and figuring out how things work ;w;. I still have a lot to learn though, so don’t take my word as law🙏

I hope someone finds this helpful or mildly interesting at the very least xD

[chansdoll]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ현진ㅤㅤ♡ㅤㅤnot just friendsㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

★ pairing。nonidol!hyunjin x afab!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎g. ╰・  angst , smut‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw。 unprotected sex , oral (f. receiving) , they're in love your honor wc。 4.3k

lana's note!  ᰍᩚ this is kinda like a friends to lovers type thing except it starts late in the situationship phase, idk what this is tbh, i got bored and thought of it

♡ masterlist

it was a typical friday night, the kind of party everyone in your class had been buzzing about for days. a packed house, music pulsing through the walls, the air thick with alcohol and the sharp bite of too many cheap colognes. you were there, perched on the worn-out couch in the sunroom with your friends, half-listening as they gushed over the guys at the party. the room was dimly lit, the only glow coming from a few tangled strings of fairy lights that flickered unevenly, casting soft shadows across the walls.

you wanted to be here—at least, that’s what you told yourself. you liked the distraction, the way alcohol dulled the edges of emotions you refused to acknowledge. lately, those emotions had been clawing at your chest, threatening to spill over, and drinking was the only thing that kept them at bay. you weren’t about to let yourself feel, not when feeling meant risking getting hurt again.

then, as if on cue, he walked in.

hyunjin.

your heart lurched the second your eyes landed on him, a cruel reminder of something you wanted but could never have. he strolled in effortlessly, his presence commanding attention without even trying, flanked by felix and changbin. his dark eyes swept over the room, taking in the scene, and then—inevitably—they found you.

you didn’t think. you just acted. without hesitation, you tipped your glass back, downing the rest of your drink in one go. the burn of the alcohol was nothing compared to the ache in your chest, the one that only seemed to grow stronger every time he was near. you needed more. more to drink, more distance, more anything to push away the emotions threatening to surface.

hyunjin noticed. of course, he did.

he didn’t say anything right away, but you felt his eyes on you—watching, assessing. he always had this way of looking at you, like he was trying to solve a puzzle only he could see. he could tell something was wrong, that you were struggling, but he didn’t know why.

and you weren’t about to let him find out.

for years, you and hyunjin had been inseparable. what started as a simple friendship—born from long nights studying together, laughing over inside jokes, and supporting each other through the highs and lows of life—evolved into something deeper, something unspoken. he was your safe place, and you were his. but neither of you ever crossed that line, both too scared to risk what you had.

then, everything changed.

a few months ago, you went through a painful breakup, one that left you reeling. you had trusted, loved, and given your heart away—only to have it shattered. the pain made you wary, hesitant to let anyone get too close again. and hyunjin, ever the patient friend, had been there for you through it all. he never pushed, never asked for more than you could give. he just stayed.

but one night, after too many drinks and too many lingering stares, you found yourself in his arms in a way you never had before. it wasn’t just a moment of weakness—it was comfort, desperation, need. what was supposed to be a one-time thing became something neither of you could walk away from. it started with stolen kisses behind closed doors, tangled sheets, and hushed promises of this doesn’t mean anything. but as the weeks passed, something shifted.

the sex turned softer, more intimate. he would press lingering kisses to your temple, trace gentle patterns on your skin afterward. you would wake up in his bed, wrapped in his warmth, and pretend you didn’t crave staying longer. it was dangerous—because the more time you spent wrapped up in hyunjin, the harder it became to deny what was happening between you.

but you had to deny it.

because falling for him meant opening yourself up again. and after what you had been through, you weren’t sure you could survive that kind of heartbreak twice.

so you pushed him away. again. and again.

but hyunjin wasn’t stupid. he saw through every excuse, every attempt to put distance between you. he knew you felt it too—knew you were running from something real. and no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself otherwise, you couldn’t ignore the way your heart ached every time you saw him.

and now, as your eyes met his, from across the kitchen, the ache in your chest grew. 

it didn’t take long for you to get tipsy enough to crave hyunjin’s touch—his warmth, his presence—and he welcomed you with open arms. before you knew it, you were stumbling into a bedroom upstairs, hands everywhere, lips colliding in desperate, messy kisses.

his fingers dug into your waist, pulling you closer, and you clutched at his shirt, tugging at the fabric until it bunched against his ribs. he broke the kiss just long enough to yank it over his head, tossing it aside before his mouth crashed back to yours—hot and needy.

“you look so good tonight,” he muttered, voice low and breathless against your lips. his hands slid down to your hips, guiding you back until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

you barely remembered falling onto the mattress—all you remembered was the way hyunjin followed, crawling over you with that same hunger burning in his eyes. his lips moved down your neck, biting and kissing and tasting while your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer.

everything blurred—clothes tugged and tossed aside, warm skin pressed against yours. your breaths mingled in the charged air, messy and uneven.

he kissed down your body, his mouth hot and teasing as he moved lower. you gasped when his lips ghosted over your inner thigh, and then you moaned outright when he pressed a lingering kiss to your mound.

“hyun—” you whined, but your words melted into a sharp gasp when his tongue met your clit. he licked you like he was savoring you, dragging his tongue in slow, deliberate circles before closing his lips around your most sensitive spot. a deep groan rumbled from his chest, vibrating against you. he was lost in it—lost in you—his hands gripping your thighs tightly to keep you from squirming away.

“fuck—oh my god,” you gasped, clutching at the sheets as the pressure in your core built rapidly. his fingers flexed harder against your skin, his nails digging into your flesh, and your body tensed.

“i’m—shit, i’m cumming,” you cried out, your body shaking violently as the pleasure crashed over you.

he didn’t stop—not right away. he kept licking, sucking, savoring every bit of you until the overstimulation forced you to gently push his head away. even then, he lingered, leaving a messy kiss against your soaked folds before rising to his feet.

his cock was heavy in his boxers, the outline thick and prominent as he hurriedly shoved the fabric down. he crawled over you again, kissing you roughly—hungry, like he needed this, needed you.

“you’re driving me insane,” he rasped against your lips, his hand fumbling to spread your thighs wider. his cock bobbed against your slick entrance, and you reached down, guiding him inside you.

he pushed in slowly, groaning low in his throat as you stretched around him. the feeling was overwhelming—the heat, the weight of him pressed so perfectly against you.

it started fast and frantic—hips grinding together in messy desperation. you clung to him, his skin warm and slick beneath your fingertips, both of you chasing something primal and raw. but somewhere in the haze of it all, something shifted.

his kisses deepened, slowing to something softer, something felt. his fingers laced with yours, pinning your hand beside your head as he rocked into you, deep and deliberate. his forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and shaky against your lips.

“fuck,” he groaned, voice strained like he was holding himself back. his free hand trailed along your waist, down to your thigh, where his fingers dug in just enough to ground you.

it was too much—his body against yours, the way he filled you so perfectly. the way he whispered your name, soft and reverent, like you were something precious.

your heart raced, your breath hitched, and before you could stop it, the pressure in your core unraveled once more. it rushed through you fast and hard, making your body arch beneath him.

“f-fuck,” you choked out, and then—without thinking, without meaning to—you said it.

“i love you.”

the words tumbled from your lips right as you reached your peak, your body trembling beneath him as waves of pleasure rolled through you.

hyunjin stilled for half a second, his hips stuttering before he fully realized what you had said. his breath hitched—and somehow, those three words undid him.

“shit—” his voice broke as he pushed all the way inside you, burying himself deep as his own orgasm tore through him. a string of groans left his lips, shaky and breathless, as he filled you with his release.

you barely registered the warmth spreading inside you—you were too lost in your own head, panic settling in like ice beneath your skin. you clung to him, your breath unsteady, trying to ignore the weight of what had just slipped out.

you couldn’t take it back.

and somehow, that terrified you more than anything.

the air felt heavier now, thick with something you couldn’t name. neither of you spoke as you pulled your clothes back on—hyunjin grabbing his shirt from the floor while you reached for your dress, still crumpled on the edge of the bed.

he moved slower than usual, his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds like he was trying to find the right words. you knew what was coming—you could feel it.

“you meant it, didn’t you?” his voice was soft but certain.

you froze for a beat, fingers faltering at the zipper of your dress. “what?”

“you know what,” he said, stepping closer. “what you said before.”

you swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“you do,” he insisted, his voice firm now.

“i don’t.” you turned to face him, zipping your dress the rest of the way with a sharp tug. “i was tipsy. we were... caught up in the moment. i don’t even remember half of what i said.”

it wasn’t true—you remembered everything. the way his body felt against yours, the warmth of his breath, the way the words had just spilled out before you could stop them. but admitting that? no chance.

hyunjin scoffed softly, raking a hand through his hair. “sure,” he muttered, his tone dry. “whatever you say.”

“yeah,” you snapped, grabbing your purse from the nightstand. “whatever i say.”

you knew you were being cold, but you couldn’t stop yourself. it was easier to shut him out than to face what had just happened. because if you did—if you let yourself feel it—you knew you’d fall too hard. and after everything you’d been through, that was a risk you couldn’t take.

“are you coming?” you asked, barely sparing him a glance before heading for the door.

hyunjin didn’t answer right away. but when you reached the hallway, you heard his footsteps behind you, following you back to the party like nothing had happened.

only it had. and you knew there was no running from it for long.

the next day, hyunjin sent you a text:

hey. wanna grab coffee?

you stared at the message for a long time, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. you typed out a few responses—sure, i can’t, i’m sorry—but you deleted them all. nothing felt right.

you felt awful. awful for how you snapped at him, awful for pretending like nothing had happened, and even worse for how scared you were. scared of opening up, scared of hurting him, scared of getting hurt yourself. you couldn’t risk that. not again.

so, for the first time since you and hyunjin had been friends, you turned off your read receipts.

and of course, he noticed.

hyunjin lay on his dorm bed, phone in hand, staring at the screen like he could will a reply out of you. his text still sat unread, no confirmation that you’d seen it. he knew you were acting cold—he wasn’t stupid. ever since that night, you’d been distant, avoiding eye contact, cutting conversations short, disappearing whenever he walked into a room.

he knew you were dealing with things—your breakup had left you guarded, pulling away from everyone who tried to get close. but he thought he was different. he thought he was helping.

the next evening, he found himself wandering to one of the campus cafés—somewhere you both used to go all the time. it was crowded, filled with clusters of students cramming for exams or killing time between classes.

and that’s when he saw you.

you were tucked into the corner by the window, sitting across from some guy hyunjin didn’t recognize. he looked your age, maybe a little older, with an easy smile that made hyunjin’s stomach churn.

he watched from a distance, eyes narrowing as the guy leaned closer, whispering something that made you laugh—actually laugh. the sound made hyunjin’s chest tighten.

his mind raced. maybe this was nothing—just some classmate, someone you bumped into. but the way you smiled... the way you twirled your straw between your fingers, leaning in just a little closer... it felt different.

he told himself it wasn’t a big deal, that you were allowed to spend time with whoever you wanted.

but deep down, it felt like he was losing you.

hyunjin was standing near the counter, waiting for his order. he was dressed casually—sweatpants and a hoodie—but he still managed to stand out.

your heart dropped.

for a second, you just stared. he looked tired, his face drawn in a way that made guilt gnaw at your insides. his phone was in his hand, his thumb flicking over the screen like he was checking for something—checking for you.

when he finally looked up, your eyes locked.

your breath hitched.

his gaze hardened, just slightly, his face unreadable. you knew that look—it was the one he gave when he was hurt but refused to show it.

the guy across from you kept talking, laughing at his own joke, but you couldn’t hear a word of it. hyunjin’s eyes flicked from you to the guy sitting at your table, and something in his expression shifted—a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place.

you dropped your gaze, suddenly unable to hold it. your fingers curled around your drink, knuckles going white from how tightly you gripped it.

“you okay?” the guy asked, finally noticing your sudden silence.

“yeah,” you lied, forcing a smile that felt thin and strained. “i’m fine.”

the soft glow of the moonlight slipped through the blinds, casting faint shadows across the room. you stared up at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the night pressing against your chest. the silence was suffocating, and yet your thoughts wouldn’t let you escape.

tossing onto your side, you tugged the blanket tighter around yourself, the heat from your body offering no comfort. your mind refused to quiet. you couldn’t stop thinking about him — about hyunjin.

it wasn’t supposed to be this way. you weren’t supposed to feel so lost. so fucking confused. you had been fine before, or at least, you thought you were. you hadn’t expected to fall into something like this with him.

you let out a shaky breath, your heart pounding beneath your ribs. you were afraid — of what, exactly, you weren’t even sure. afraid of letting him in, afraid of loving him, afraid of not being good enough to keep him. every time you let yourself get close to him, the fear crept in, and now it had spiraled into this mess of misunderstandings and regrets.

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to shut out the thoughts, but they only grew louder. you had pushed him away. you had hurt him, and now... now you were ruining everything. your friendship with hyunjin, the one thing that had been consistent in your life, was slipping through your fingers. you were scared. so scared of what he might mean to you, what you might mean to him.

the tears came unbidden, hot and fast. you rolled onto your back, unable to control the sobs that wracked your chest. you thought of all the things you should have said to him, of how he looked at you that night, how his warmth had felt like the one thing that made you feel whole.

but you pushed him away. you always pushed people away.

you reached for your phone, desperate for a distraction. maybe scrolling through your gallery would give you something to focus on, anything to get you out of your head.

your thumb swiped through the photos — random things at first. selfies from random nights out, pictures of your friends, screenshots of texts that no longer seemed relevant. then you saw them. the ones with hyunjin.

you paused, your thumb frozen over the screen. your breath caught in your throat as your eyes traced the photos. the first one was a silly selfie the two of you had taken during one of those late-night study sessions. he had made a face, pulling a stupid expression, and you had laughed so hard you almost cried. the memory of his laughter filled your chest, and you let out a shaky sigh.

then there was the one from that night at his place. you remembered it so clearly — your faces so close, your smiles so real. he had kissed you right after that photo, and you had felt a rush of something deep in your chest, something that made your stomach flutter. you had felt seen, wanted.

but you weren’t ready for that.

another swipe.

this time, a picture of the two of you on the couch after a party. your bodies were close, his arm draped over your shoulders. you were looking at each other, and in that look, you saw something more than just friendship. it scared you, that look. you couldn’t handle it. you couldn’t handle him. you had to keep your distance, even if it meant hurting him.

you scrolled further, and the next picture stopped your heart. it was taken the last time the two of you had been alone together. the photo was intimate, suggestive — you both had been fooling around, your faces flushed with desire. it wasn’t a moment of passion, not like you had imagined when you thought about what you two might become. it was a mess of emotions, blurred lines, and you had let it happen. you had let him in, even when you told yourself you never would.

you should have stopped it.

you should have never let yourself fall into this.

you closed your eyes, and suddenly, the weight of everything hit you all at once. your chest tightened, your breathing shallow as you clutched the phone to your chest. you ruined it. you ruined everything.

you were never enough. you were never going to be enough.

the tears started again, harder this time, as the realization crushed you. you had pushed him away, scared of your own feelings, and now you were paying the price. you had been so selfish, so afraid of letting yourself want him.

and now you had lost him.

the quiet of your dorm room seemed to mock you as you sat there, body shaking with sobs. you had pushed him to the point where he probably wouldn’t even look at you the same way anymore. you had destroyed the one thing that had meant something to you, and no matter how much you wanted to fix it, you couldn’t.

you ruined it.

you ruined him.

the bass thumped through the walls of the campus bar, the low vibrations buzzing against your chest. your friends’ laughter rang out beside you, but you barely heard it — your mind had been clouded all night. the drink in your hand had grown warm, condensation pooling under your fingertips.

you were trying — really trying — to forget. to drown out the memories of hyunjin’s touch, his voice, the way he looked at you before you pushed him away. but no amount of alcohol could drown out what was festering inside you.

and then you saw him.

hyunjin was at the far end of the bar, his elbow braced against the counter, swirling his drink in his hand. his hair was damp — maybe from the rain outside, maybe from sweat — but he still looked too good. his jaw was tight, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. he looked... off.

your stomach flipped. he hadn’t seen you yet, but you knew it was only a matter of time.

"i need some air," you muttered to your friends, barely registering their response as you grabbed your bag and moved quickly toward the exit.

but you weren’t fast enough.

"y/n?"

his voice cut through the noise like a knife.

panic shot through you, your heart racing. you didn’t turn around — couldn’t. you shoved through the crowd, weaving between bodies until you finally stumbled out the front door and into the cold night.

rain poured from the sky, cold droplets clinging to your skin as you rushed down the sidewalk. your breath hitched, your chest tightening. you just needed to get away — far enough that the guilt would stop clawing at you, far enough that hyunjin wouldn’t follow.

but he did.

"y/n!"

his voice rang out behind you, sharp and angry. you heard the fast steps of his shoes slapping against wet pavement.

"stop!"

you didn’t stop — you couldn’t. your pulse thundered in your ears, but suddenly his hand grabbed your arm, jerking you back.

"what the hell is your problem?" his voice was tight, breathless, but unmistakably angry. his hair clung to his forehead, strands dripping with rain. "are you just gonna keep running from me forever?"

"hyunjin, let go," you said weakly, but your voice wavered.

"no." his grip didn’t tighten, but he didn’t let go. "you’ve been avoiding me for days. i texted you, i called you — hell, i’ve been waiting for you to just say something. but instead, i see you here — acting like none of it ever happened. like i don’t even fucking exist."

"i can’t do this," you whispered, voice barely audible over the rain. you pulled your arm from his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself like it could hold you together. "i just... i can’t."

"why?" his voice cracked. "why are you doing this? did i... did i do something wrong?"

you shook your head, swallowing hard. "no. no, it’s not you, i just..." you trailed off, words dying on your tongue.

"then what is it?" hyunjin’s voice rose again, frustration bubbling to the surface. "i know you feel something for me. don’t tell me you don’t — you wouldn’t have said what you said if you didn’t."

your stomach twisted painfully. "i don’t know what you’re talking about."

"bullshit," he snapped. "we are not just friends. we are not just friends, and you fucking know it."

the words hit you like a punch to the chest. your breath faltered, and you took a shaky step back, your shoes splashing in a shallow puddle.

"i didn’t mean to—"

"yes, you did!" his voice broke this time — less sharp, more desperate. "you said you loved me. i heard you. and i know you meant it. so why are you running from me like i’m some kind of mistake?"

your throat tightened painfully. tears blurred your vision, mixing with the rain streaking down your face.

"because i’m scared!" the words burst out of you before you could stop them. your voice cracked, your chest heaving. "i’m scared of getting hurt, i’m scared of losing you — and i’m scared i’ll ruin everything because that’s what i do."

"you’re not going to lose me," he said quietly. his voice was softer now, gentler — but there was still a tremor in it. "i just... i don’t understand why you won’t let me in. why do you think you have to do this alone?"

"because i’ll hurt you!" you choked out. "i’ll mess this up, hyunjin. you deserve someone better — someone who isn’t so... so broken."

"don’t do that." his voice was firm, but not angry — raw, almost pleading. "don’t tell me what i deserve. i know what i want."

he stepped closer, his fingers brushing your wrist again, more tentative this time — like he wasn’t sure you’d let him.

"i want you."

a sob tore from your throat, and before you could stop yourself, you were stepping forward, crashing into him. your hands fisted into the soaked fabric of his jacket, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart.

his arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you in tight — like he’d been waiting for you to do this. you didn’t know who kissed who first — all you knew was that his lips were on yours, hard and desperate. the kiss was messy, rain-slicked and breathless, but neither of you seemed to care.

"i’m sorry," you whispered against his mouth, the words spilling out between kisses. "i’m so sorry."

"don’t be," he murmured back, his fingers curling at the nape of your neck, holding you closer. "just... please don’t push me away anymore."

for a moment, you stayed like that — tangled in each other’s arms, the rain washing over you both. whatever tension had been hanging in the air seemed to crack and fall away, replaced by something heavier yet somehow lighter at the same time. and as hyunjin pressed one more lingering kiss to your forehead, you realized something — maybe you’d been wrong. 

maybe love wasn’t about avoiding pain; maybe it was about trusting someone enough to hold your heart, even when you were scared they might break it.

taglist: @ritsmith @bluesungology @jeonginsleftcheek @babigriin @tirena1 @geni-627 @bbokvhs @wavetohannie

[astrologydray]

how each Moon sign really acts when they catch feelings

🔥 Fire Moons (Aries, Leo, Sagittarius) – “Too Hot to Handle”

🔥 Aries Moon – Catches feelings like they’re catching a flight—immediate and full speed ahead. Will text first, show off, and initiate plans within five minutes of realizing they like you. If you play hard to get, they’ll get frustrated but secretly love the chase. Might accidentally scare you off by saying “I like you” too soon, then ghosting to regain their power.

🔥 Leo Moon – Starts acting like the main character whenever their crush is around. Will lowkey flex their achievements, dress their best, and drop hints about how many people want them (but they only have eyes for you). If you don’t gas them up, they’ll act so unbothered but will die inside waiting for your attention.

🔥 Sagittarius Moon – Pretends they don’t care, but you’ll catch them talking about you nonstop. Will flirt shamelessly, send unhinged memes, and suggest spontaneous trips or adventures (”We should totally get lost in another city together”). If they start overthinking or acting nervous, just know they’re down bad.

🌍 Earth Moons (Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn) – “Slow Burn or Nothing”

🌍 Taurus Moon – Acts normal on the outside but is already imagining cuddling with you in a cabin with scented candles and matching pajamas. Will observe you for weeks before making a move. Once they start cooking for you or sending “Did you eat?” texts, it’s over—you’re theirs.

🌍 Virgo Moon – Analyzes the hell out of their feelings and yours. Reads into every text like it’s a conspiracy theory. Will start fixing your life as an excuse to be around—helping you organize, sending you self-improvement tips, or reminding you to stay hydrated. If they start playfully judging your bad habits, just know they’re in love.

🌍 Capricorn Moon – Keeps their feelings under lock and key but will start showing up for you in practical ways. Will make sure you’re safe, send you career advice, and randomly buy you things you mentioned once (“I noticed you like this brand, so I got it for you”). If they let their guard down emotionally, you’ve unlocked a rare achievement.

💨 Air Moons (Gemini, Libra, Aquarius) – “Flirting or Just Existing?”

💨 Gemini Moon – Spams your notifications with memes, random facts, and ”haha this reminded me of you” texts. Will find excuses to talk to you ALL DAY. If they suddenly go silent or act distant, they either like you a little too much and are freaking out or got distracted by another crush for five seconds.

💨 Libra Moon – Starts romanticizing your whole existence and lowkey stalking your socials to figure out your aesthetic. Will flirt with you subtly and test your interest before making a move. If you’re too slow, they’ll start acting uninterested just to regain the upper hand—but if you flirt back, they’ll MELT.

💨 Aquarius Moon – Gets weirder around you. If they start sending you deep philosophical thoughts at 2 AM or randomly trauma-dumping in a way that makes no sense—congrats, they like you. Will act detached, but inside they’re spiraling, wondering if you’re “The One.” If they start saying “You’re not like other people”, RUN—they’re already planning your future together.

🌊 Water Moons (Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces) – “Emotionally Unstable (In a Cute Way)”

🌊 Cancer Moon – Catches feelings like a 2000s rom-com protagonist—deeply, dramatically, and with a hint of delusion. Will make playlists about you, stare at your texts like they hold the secrets of the universe, and secretly get upset if you take too long to reply. If they start randomly bringing up childhood stories, they’re trying to bond with you for life.

🌊 Scorpio Moon – Acts completely normal on the surface but is secretly OBSESSED. Will watch you like a detective gathering evidence. Will test you by pulling back to see if you chase them (if you do, they’ll fall even harder). Once they’re in, they’re ALL in—ride or die, no in-between.

🌊 Pisces Moon – Catches feelings before anything even happens. Already daydreaming about holding hands in the rain before you’ve even had a real conversation. Will drop hints through music, poetry, or vague Instagram stories and hope you just know. If they start being extra shy or spacing out around you, they’re picturing your wedding.

[randomshyperson]

The Pinning Problem - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: There are several ways to resolve the rivalry between the Avengers that does not involve fighting. Or, the one where Wanda Maximoff likes to be pinned down by her not-so-secret crush, and somehow this becomes the whole team's problem.

words: 2.944k | warnings: a lot of sexual tension, kissing, hints of rivals to lovers, this is a crack fic - nothing here can be taken seriously, another alternative solution for civil war that’s better than what they did, nothing explicit but hints of sub!wanda.

A/N-. I found this on my draft, had to translate, and I have no idea what was the inspiration or writing process but I thought it was so funny, so here it is. The name is actually quite self-explanatory.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

In Wanda's defense, a sequence of events led to this unsustainable situation.

It probably started a year ago, when she had mind-tricked the team of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes and felt confident enough to try it on someone who was notoriously known for being invulnerable. It was the first time Wanda had been pinned against a wall by another person, and it was the most inopportune situation possible for any feelings other than anger and fear, so of course Wanda had never been so aroused. Things didn’t get any better after that, and in her interactions with you in the Avenger routine a while later, she would probably describe you as having some obscure desire to pin her against things.

In training, against the mat.

In the kitchen, against the counter or the fridge, with bad excuses to reach things or just because you wanted to see her blush or traumatize any team member present.

And one notable time, one that haunted her in wet dreams for weeks, against the door of the motel room you were staying in for one of the countless stakeout missions in search of clues about the Winter Soldier.

Wanda was never so grateful for a shared bathroom as the day she saw you in just a towel, hair and wet muscles exposed.

“Damn, wrong door.” You said with an innocent tone, but it didn’t seem like you had made any mistakes, the little smile giving away your true intentions.

Wanda, who had just emptied the bathroom for the next in line for the shower, clutched the towel to her body tighter, a nervous giggle escaping her.

She's never felt as powerful as she does now, using all her mental and spiritual control not to rip off those towels and grab you with the entire team to witness.

“Did you save some hot water for me, witchy?” You teased with your hand on the doorframe, too close for Wanda to breathe properly. She had to blink her concentration back, her brain barely able to focus on anything other than your inviting lips.

“Hm, I can’t say I have it.”

You lick your lips, a smile threatening to escape as Wanda's eyes followed the movement. "No problem, I need a cold shower anyway." That's what you said, using much more of her personal space than you needed to exit the room.

And for the next few weeks, Wanda could only remember that feeling, her fingers tucked deep inside her pants as she bit her lip to keep from whimpering your name to the ceiling.

The fight between Steve and Tony escalated into a catastrophe shortly after that, and Wanda had a little time to focus on other things.

That is until Clint picked her up at the Tower, and informed her that he had two stops to make. Ant-Man was the easy part, he was loud and energetic and kept Clint busy with excited questions about his life as an Avenger.

You were the proof of the gods.

With a leather jacket you got as a gift from Natasha hiding a band t-shirt that in Wanda's opinion, made you look like the most attractive person she had ever laid eyes on, you threw your backpack on the bench and squeezed in next to her.

You didn't have to press your lips to her cheek, but you did it anyway, as if you and Wanda were great friends, and you had missed her a lot in the last few weeks you hadn't seen each other with all the team's drama.

“What’s up, witchy?” It was so casual that Wanda almost believed that you two had a real relationship and not a history of arguments, teasing and staring challenges.

Clint didn't pay a second thought to the matter, he was stressed with everything that was happening to the team, and he was pleased that you were joining the fight, especially on his side. Having a demigoddess should mean an easy victory, and hopefully, without much fighting.

Staying under wraps in Europe until it was time to meet Steve at the appointed point was a minefield. Four people sharing a van, two of whom were hormonal teenagers, with some sort of battle going on over who would give in first could easily be one of the reasons Clint Barton wanted to stay retired.

Three hours into the ride, and Wanda let out another sigh from the backseat, and he had enough.

“I swear to god I’m going to make you walk all the way there.” The hawk warned, stealing a glance in the rearview mirror, quick enough for him to see you move your hand away from Wanda’s thigh. He snorted in disbelief. “That’s so inappropriate. And disgusting.”

“Don’t be homophobic, Clint.” You immediately retort, but the Avenger shook his head, chuckling reluctantly.

“I’ll tell your cousin what kind of things you do while other people are around you, young lady.” He threatened but you shrugged, an easy laugh escaping you.

“Good luck trying to slut-shame me to the god of fertility.” Your bratty response made Wanda and Scott hide a giggle.

Clint huffed in irritation. “What the hell, that’s not what I’m doing!” He defended himself, offended. “I just don’t want to be there while you make out with your girlfriend.”

You shrug. “Sounds like homophobia to me, man.”

Clint shakes his head indignantly, and tries to look at Scott for some support but the other just shrugs, with an expression that he agrees with your words. The Archer lets out a humorless laugh, and announces that he will stop for food at the next gas station he drives by.

When the stop finally happened, almost an hour later, Clint and Scott practically fled the car.

Wanda thinks she should have at least changed seats.

“Can I ask you something?” She ventured as the noise of the older Avengers talking grew more distant, as they were going to buy food at the convenience store. You hum in agreement, and Wanda swallows hard because she feels your gaze on her. “How did Barton convince you to join the fight?”

The question takes you by surprise. You change seats, and Wanda almost regrets it, but you do it just to look at her and it's more disconcerting than before.

“Why wouldn’t I join? I’m an Avenger too.” Apparently, you wanted to see her reaction. Sometimes, Wanda forgot that not everyone could read minds. Especially you, who, although you could resist any of her magic tricks, didn’t have the same abilities to do them on other people.

“I know, I meant…” She thought for a moment about the right words. “I just got the impression that Thor advised you to stay a little distant from things like that. He himself doesn’t seem to be around much for this kinda of… human and bureaucratic stuff.”

You click your tongue. “I’m human, Wanda. Half, but still.”

“I know!” she snaps back, her cheeks hot. “I just meant—”

“I know what you mean, I’m messing with you.” You cut her off with a giggle, gesturing slightly. “I’m flattered, you know? That you think I’m so strong and amazing, so superior to all of this.” You make an exaggeratedly theatrical expression, and Wanda laughs with an eye roll.

“Oh, shut up.” She retorts, and manages to make you smile too. The lightness of the interaction changes the second after this dialogue ends. You look at her in a different way, more intense and vulnerable, and Wanda swallows hard. She feels like she wants to say a million things at once, but it’s you who speaks first.

“You’re right though, I wasn’t going to get involved.” You say, your typical confidence failing for the first time since Wanda met you. “Diplomatic immunity and Asgardian royalty perks or something like that.” You joke with a weak laugh, but something about the way you’re saying it makes it impossible for Wanda to laugh, let alone breathe properly. “Clint only had to use two magic words to get me on the team.”

She swallows hard, her stomach flipping. “What words?”

You smile at the corner of your mouth, not meeting her eyes for a moment. And then you sigh deeply, and look at her. “Wanda Maximoff.”

The breath that escapes her is shaky and faltering, and you hold her gaze until she gathers her courage. You wait patiently for Wanda to approach, and you don't move at any of her hesitations, until she sighs and grabs the collar of your blouse, pulling you in with determination. Despite the urgency, the first kiss is not rushed. You let her get used to the feeling first, and pull away before Wanda has a chance to protest.

But when you dive back in the next second, you take control. Your hand cups her jaw and your mouth is hungrily against hers, teeth and tongue, devouring every whimper of need she gives you. You’re not immune to Maximoff’s charms either.” You gasp at Wanda’s taste, brow furrowed as if you’re physically unable to pull away.

But you have to, because Clint and Scott can't make a purchase longer than eight damn minutes.

The veterans climb into the car, and the archer turns to the back of the van to deliver the food and catches a glimpse of your disheveled appearances and uneven breathing and grunts of disbelief.

“For the love of god, I don’t even want to know. And don’t you dare touch my stuff!” He says, throwing the snacks into your laps as you and Wanda struggle to hide your giggles.

-&-

The plan was to sneak out, but Stark closed the airport. Steve's order was for everyone to put on their suits and follow him, but Wanda ended up trapped between the closed door of the van and your body.

“Everything okay, girls?” Captain America asked uncertainly, and without moving away, you forced a smile at Steve.

“Sure, Cap. I’ll just wish Wanda a good fight. We’ll catch up with you for a grand entrance, I promise.” It’s practically a warning that you’re going to do this regardless of Steve’s permission, so he clears his throat and waves for the team to follow him ahead.

The Avengers have barely finished walking away - she can still hear Clint complaining that the two of you haven't let go of each other when you lean your face down and kiss her.

She doesn't know what she expected, but she certainly doesn't feel prepared for this kind of kiss. Sloppy and charged with lust, just a few hours after she experienced the sensation of having your lips for the first time.

Your firm hands on her waist and the extra support of the van are the only things keeping her upright. Her wobbly legs gave out at the first bite of her lip, three kisses ago.

Between one gasp and another, and this because neither of you wants to let go, Wanda tries to remind you of what they are doing in Germany.

“We have to go. The others. The fight.” Each word comes between one kiss and another, and she’s not even trying to open her eyes, because you drag your mouth down her jaw and start pressing your lips to her neck with enough intention to make her arch her body towards you and forget the world around her.

Though you look equally affected, you manage to break the caresses with a husky chuckle. “Who the hell came up with the idea of adding a damn corset to your uniform, Wanda?”

The question makes her bite her lip, especially since she catches the way your gaze is fixed on her collarbone.

“I chose it myself. Don’t you like it?” She teases with false innocence, baiting you by puffing out her chest in your direction.

Your fingers reach up and pull at the limit of what the corset's laces will hold without opening, the gesture being suggestive enough for Wanda to tremble.

“I loved it, that’s the problem.” You murmur, evidently aroused, your mouth marking her skin again. “How do they expect me to fight with you looking like that around me. All I can think about is undressing you…” A soft bite on your lobe, and Wanda moans directly into your ear. “God, I could fuck you right here.”

“There’s no time.” She pants back, but your grip tightens a little and Wanda is sure that if you try to take her clothes off in the middle of this parking lot, she’ll help you.

“We can make time.”

But your whispered phrase carries a meaning she can’t ignore. She struggles to push her arousal away and manages to retort a hoarse “What?”

Your hands reach inside the suit's jacket, and move downward. Wanda gasps as she feels them on her ass, squeezing the flesh and forcing your hips together. The sensation is so delirious that she almost forgets she asked a question.

“We can kill time if we let the boys fight alone.” Your voice combined with all the attraction she’s kept secret for so long is like a siren song taking her mind to places far removed from Avengers intrigue, and more like beds or mats. Or anywhere you can press her, including this car. “Romanoff knows how to take care of herself, and the others wouldn’t even notice.”

“Yes, they would.” She retorts with a soft laugh before pulling your mouth back to hers. Kissing her again wakes something in you. Your hands go frantic, tugging and squeezing, and Wanda finds herself pressed completely against the iron door with one of your legs between hers. The softest press of your knee against her core makes Wanda gasp in a whimper.

You break the kiss to rest your forehead against hers. “You sound so beautiful when you make those sounds.” But she needs to put more distance between you, because she won’t be able to stop if she doesn’t do it now.

“We can’t.” She insists, one hand on your stomach to gently push you away. “Not now. And not here.” She sighs at the dark look in your eyes. “We gave you our word that we would help.”

For a moment, it looks like you’re going to ignore it, your lips brushing together, teasing away whatever sanity she has left. But then, you kiss her cheek and pull away, and Wanda would have slid down to the floor if it weren’t for van’s support.

“Okay, I’ll help.” You declare with a determination that makes Wanda swallow hard.

She barely has time to work on her appearance and has to rush to catch up with you, sprinting towards the team.

You missed the grand entrance - Things were about to start, and you interrupted a spider-clad teenager with an energy pulse that threw him away and kept him pinned to the ground.

“Sorry guys, I’m really busy today.” You announced. Everyone looked at you in shock, Tony seemed genuinely surprised to see you pick a team, and Steve seemed worried that you had changed your mind. When you started fighting with everyone, things got even more serious.

But Wanda didn't even have time to think about what it all meant; she realized that you weren't hurting them. You were bringing them together, to face them all at once.

Vision was probably the only one there who could do any damage due to the Infinity Stone, so she needed to keep him under control.

And with Spider-Boy safe and immobilized just like Vision, you screamed to the heavens.

“Heimdall, let’s take my friends for a ride!”

The Avengers only had time to widen their eyes. The transport was almost immediate.

Wanda closed her eyes, as shocked as the others, but the trip was actually smooth. While half the team was still fighting on the rainbow that led to Asgard, you held her by the waist, and the landing was calm and coordinated.

Steve was the first to approach you, as furiously as everyone else. “What do you think you’re doing? Send us back right now! We have to-”

“Sorry, I’m on vacation.” You cut him off, shrugging. Your hand is clasped in Wanda’s, who’s standing behind you.

The team all stands around, angry and surprised. Steve gives an incredulous laugh, but Tony actually laughs.

“Wow, that’s impressive, Rogers. Seriously, this time you outdid yourself in the worst decisions you could make. You didn’t think about what could happen when you called her to fight, she has the maturity of a ten-year-old!”

“Wow, and you can talk about maturity, can’t you Tony?”

You rolled your eyes, leaving them behind, cursing each other. Natasha was trying to stop King T'Challa from attacking Bucky, but none of them had a way out of here. Rhodes took off his armor helmet and was commenting on how huge Asgard was with Sam, while Clint tried to get a cell phone signal to warn Laura that he would most definitely be late. You think Ant-Man was trying to take pictures, but you got distracted by Wanda on the way through the Bifrost.

“Are we just going to leave them?” She asked, glancing at the irritated team.

You shrug. “Yeah, Heimdall will keep an eye on them. And when they calm down, the palace awaits. And you will see my royal chamber now.”

Wanda purrs, her cheeks flushed. “You’re getting pretty confident.” She teases, making you smile.

“I’m just inviting you to a late-night fondue.” You joke, and it’s Wanda’s turn to chuckle before pressing her lips against yours.

Some of the Avengers complain in the background but none of you are paying attention to them anymore.

[lovesickhughes]

Hiii may I please request a sweetheart letter with Quinn for the prompts “Believe me, I will never be tired of you.” + kissing away their tears? <3

a/n: thank you for requesting my love! hope u enjoy <3 (not edited)

—

You hated seeing Quinn frustrated, feeling lost and hopeless after losses. It was the one downside to his career and you wanted nothing more than to be able to take away that aspect. But, much to anyone's dismay, it was a part of the game.

You were well aware of the hardships that sometimes came along the journey of Quinn's career, and unfortunately this year seemed to be obstacle upon obstacle, another barrier for him to get past, and it was only causing more harm than good.

Injuries appeared and slowly but surely tore Quinn down, and with that, alongside the pressure of being the face of a franchise, you knew Quinn was more stressed than ever.

And when comes stress, for Quinn, comes isolation.

You knew it was unintentional, you knew it was justified and you reasoned time and time again when he'd come home, short of words and reserved. You knew he was processing, and you never wanted to get in the way.

You had learned over the years of being with Quinn, that this was how he functioned, and due to his recent captancy, it seemed like the pressure had only intensified.

After missing the Four Nations tournament, Quinn was chained to his apartment with you, and although he was grateful to have your support, he still silently replayed the events of this season.

He was more quiet than usual, dismissive of your attempts to console him, and was more reserved; waking up before the sun had even risen and going to the gym for long hours, conditioning and strengthening to help his return, only to arrive at home and busy himself in a book, avoiding conversation.

It was a few days before the return to the regular season after the two week long break, and you felt the intense pressure slowly start to rise, uncertainty filling the air as everyone from family, to friends, to even fans anticipated Quinn's return.

You woke up to an empty bed, once again, a sinking feeling in your stomach settling and making your ribs ache. You felt so distant, so detached from Quinn, but you reasoned with yourself, trying to convice your mind it was all for his own well-being.

Making your way through the apartment, you ran yourself a long, hot shower, letting the steam fill the room as you stood in your thoughts, replaying the last few weeks. You wanted nothing more than to comfort and support your boyfriend, but any of your attempts were faced with his dismissal, leaving you to feel hopeless and uncertain.

You couldn't help but think of the possibility that there was an underlying reason to Quinn's reserved behaviour, maybe he was reconsidering things— you wouldn't know. It's hard to tell what's on someone's mind when they speak three words to you.

Slowly, you drag yourself through your shared apartment, brewing a coffee and cooking breakfast before you found yourself on your couch, watching whatever channel was last left on the TV. You watched, but your mind was elsewhere, being stuck on the thought of some deep-rooted motivation that was causing Quinn to be so closed off, so deep in thought you hadn't heard him enter the apartment, softly greeting you before walking to the fridge to grab a premade smoothie.

You felt the couch cushion dip beside you as Quinn sat next to you, his arm coming to lay against the back of the couch, his thumb lightly brushing your shoulder as he faced your frame, eyes still glued to the screen.

"Hi, baby," Quinn said softly, caressing your shoulder in attempt to grab your attention, but you couldn't gather the effort to divert your attention. Your mind was racing, stomach sinking and heat was spreading through your skin as you felt tears begin to fill the well of your eyes. They glossed over, and it was almost instantly that Quinn noticed, as you bit the inside of your cheek to contain your tears.

It had consumed you, the thoughts, the what-ifs, you couldn't help but let your mind wander if how Quinn was acting, was something deeper. Your lip quivered as you played scenario upon scenario in your mind, and you hadn't even noticed the tear slip from your eye and trail down your cheek.

"Baby, what— are you— what's the matter?" Quinn asked urgently, his voice gentle as he shifted closer to your frame, his free hand reaching to rest on your hip, pulling you to him to grasp your attention.

And when you look at him, seeing his concerned eyes search your own, you break down, realizing this was the first time since you could last remember a genuine interaction with Quinn, and that's what felt like your heart was being ripped into two.

"Baby, talk to me, please," Quinn pressed, his face scanning your own as the tears slowly poured down your face.

You shook your head, "It's nothing— I just, feel like," you sniffled between breaths as you tried to compose yourself. Quinn only pulled you in further, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you against his hoodie-worn chest. "I feel like I'm just a ghost to you, like you're so guarded because of what you're dealing with— that I just have magically gone away." You sobbed, and you knew you sounded ridiculous, but the way you cried into Quinn's chest and stained his clothes with your tears, you knew it was something that needed to happen.

Quinn let out a huff, blowing the air harshly through his mouth as he soothed you, his hand running against your back. "Baby, y'know it's not like that— I'm not trying to excuse myself, it's not fair to you." He said into the crown of your head, mumbling against your hair.

"I just feel like you're tired of me, and you're dealing with so much already, that the last thing you need is to have me pestering you." You continued, letting our shaky breaths. "And you're doing so well, with all things considered, like it's so admirable, and I don't want to cause you more stress." You confessed, pulling back having his eyes meet your sad ones.

Quinn only looked of more concern, clearly distraught at your confession, "Y/n. Sweetheart," He said, his own voice sounding like it pained him, "Believe me, I will never be tired of you, okay?" He said through a stern look, the sound of your sniffles filling the room. His hands caressed the sides of your arms to soothe you, and as you went to wipe your face, tears staining your cheeks,

Quinn pulled you into him, his lips finding your cheeks, peppering your face delicately as if you would break at any sudden movement, and his kissed your tears away. He trailed across your skin, before planting a sweet, loving, intimate and long kiss to your lips as his hands on your arms found their place against your back.

"You would never be a reason why I isolate myself, okay? Sweetheart, you are the reason I don't. You are my escape, my safe space, my everything, and it breaks my heart to think you were worried about that." Quinn reassured, soothing your back as he mindlessly drew shapes against your frame.

You sniffle and let out a small chuckle, "Just don't do it again, 'kay? Let me in and break down those walls of yours." You smiled sweetly, leaning in once again to place a kiss against his lips, feeling the texture of his beard tickle your own face.

[xhazzz]

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky Barnes Headcanons

warnings: fluff, sexual references, bucky being a big baby

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong:)

masterlist || requests are open

- He’s totally into reality shows. Because of his insomnia and the constant nightmares that haunt him, sometimes when he wakes up in the middle of the night, he kisses your forehead and tucks you in before leaving his room. He just sits on the couch, watching TV with the volume as low as possible, hoping it’ll lull him back to sleep. Since he’s an old man who still hasn’t quite figured out how streaming platforms work, his only option is to watch reruns of MasterChef, Love Island, or Hell’s Kitchen. Obviously, this wouldn’t help him sleep—he’d end up completely hooked instead.

- As part of his therapy—something he was forced into by Steve, the rest of the Avengers, the government, and you—he started writing in a small notebook he could carry everywhere (just like Steve). He wrote about his nightmares, memories of his life before becoming the Winter Soldier, but his favorite thing to write about was you. He’d write about how beautiful you are, how safe you make him feel, and how grateful he is to have met you.

- Going grocery shopping with Bucky is an experience in itself. Even though it’s become a regular thing since meeting you and going out together, he never stops being amazed by the endless aisles, the new products, and everything you can find in stores. He was used to small corner shops with basic products from the ‘40s, so now, one of his favorite activities is walking down the Oreo aisle every time you go shopping and trying a new flavor.

- A few months into your relationship, Bucky knew he wanted to spend every single day with you. Even though he had started staying over at your apartment a few nights a week, it wasn’t enough for him. One day, Sam asked why he didn’t just ask you to move in with him. Bucky, completely shocked by the suggestion, said he thought it was way too soon to be thinking about marriage—he didn’t want you to feel pressured. Sam just laughed and told him that moving in together was something a lot of couples did nowadays, simply living together before marriage. “We’re not in the ‘40s anymore, old man.”

- Bucky would definitely buy you flowers just because. At first, he thought it was a bit old-fashioned, but after seeing the look of happiness on your face the first time he gave you a small bouquet, he made it a habit. Every chance he gets, he buys flowers—just to make you smile.

- The Winter Soldier could have taken down entire armies, completed missions in seconds, and slipped through enemy territory undetected, but Bucky Barnes? He would have starved to death because the only things he knows how to make are sandwiches and cereal with milk. One of his personal goals was to cook you a romantic dinner—your favorite dish. After buying all the ingredients and failing twice, he finally swallowed his pride and asked Sam for help (mainly to teach him how to use YouTube, since he’s basically a caveman when it comes to modern technology). He managed to put together something that looked decent but tasted surprisingly good. He set the table, bought fresh flowers, and lit a few candles. A total romantic.

- The first time you were together—sexually—he was terrified of not knowing his own strength and hurting you. He treated you like you were made of porcelain, leaving soft kisses along your neck and chest, holding your body with delicate hands. When his metal hand trailed down your bare legs, you shivered slightly from the cold touch. He immediately stopped, worried. “Did I hurt you? Are you okay?” But all it took to reassure him was pulling him down by the neck and kissing him again.

- Once your relationship progressed, though? Bucky became completely shameless. He was like a horny teenager, taking every free moment to have his way with you all over the apartment—the kitchen counter, the laundry room, the couch, the shower. Even in public, he’d lean in close and whisper dirty things in your ear. “I can’t wait to get home, spread your legs, and taste you, babydoll.” And when no one was looking, his hand would accidentally land on your ass, or he’d give you a playful smack.

- Of course, when it comes to aftercare, he’s as sweet as they come. He always makes sure he didn’t hurt you, asks if you need water or if you’re hungry. Thanks to the serum, he doesn’t even look tired—but you? You’re completely spent after the multiple orgasms he gave you. All you want to do is lay on his chest, curl up in the crook of his neck while he holds you close, tracing imaginary shapes on your back. Every now and then, while the two of you talk about random things, Bucky presses soft kisses to your forehead, his metal hand gently caressing your legs.

[returnofeternity]

synopsis. you go too far in the caves.

pairing: lottie matthews x gn!reader

genre: angst and fluff.

warnings. drug use, suffocation, passing out, character death for like a second?

wc: 2,246

· · 𐂂 · ·

you should have just stayed in bed and waited for her to come back. you knew where she was and what she was doing, and you knew she needed to be alone, but you couldn't sleep so you went looking for her.

she was doing exactly what you thought she was doing, aka praying to the Wilderness, but she was crying. and you hate it when she cries. and you hate how miserable she looked when she told you she couldn't hear It and that It didn't listen. you wanted to make her happy. so, you blurted out the only thing that's been cheering her up for the past few weeks.

"take me to the caves. i want to see more."

to be quite frank, you really dislike all these cave sessions lottie's been making you do. tripping out in the wilderness with shrooms was fine, cool even, but you can't count how many times you've almost died in the caves. the worst part is that it's all for naught. your 'visions' make no sense to you. most of the time they're just hallucinations of you and lottie back at home with some weird shit sprinkled in instead of visions of what the Wilderness desires. that's what these trips have been for; to hear and feel the Wilderness. and you do! you're connecting with it just like lottie wants, but you're not seeing It. you feel like you're failing lottie.

and you'd do anything to make her happy.

so going back to the caves with the gas leak it is.

lottie tightens the rope around your waist, looking up at you for confirmation that it's tight enough. you nod in return and she gives you a delicate smile, dropping her end of the rope so she can pick up the candle. the flame lights her face perfectly, and you get lost in her big, brown eyes as she moves a piece of her hair from out of her face.

"you should go deeper." she says, her voice gentle and calm. "maybe you'll be able to see more."

you don't like this idea.

"okay," you agree, your fingers nervously fiddling with the rope tied around your waist. "but is the rope even long enough?"

she looks down to eye the length and nods when she looks back at you. "it should be. just go as far as you can, okay? i got you." she reassures you, leaning in for a short kiss that makes all your worries melt away.

lottie pulls her mask up to cover her nose and mouth and bends down to pick up the rope before walking back to kneel by the entrance, rope tight in her hand. you let out a shaky breath and turn your back to her, wondering what the fuck you keep getting yourself into.

as you start walking into the cave, you hear lottie call out from behind, her voice echoing loudly off the walls. "listen to what's happening around you."

you mumble back an "okay" like she can hear you and steady yourself against the wall as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to tune into the Wilderness. your shoes scuff against some rocks as you feel your way around and you gasp as a flash of you on a cliff pops into your mind. when you blink your eyes open, you're still in the cave, but it's cold as if the wind is nipping against your nose and cheek. despite the bad feeling you have in your stomach, you venture further into the dark cave. your eyes feel heavy and you keep bumping your shoulder against the wall of the cave because of how disoriented you feel. maybe you should sit down for a second.

you slide down the wall, groaning at the rocks scratching your back, and lift your shirt up to your nose so you can try and breathe properly. your throat burns as you take raggedy breaths and your eyes prickle with tears. this was a horrible idea. maybe you should just head back and make something up to make lottie happy. but if she found out you lied she'd be angry at you. goddammit.

the rope around your waist pulls you forward slightly and you catch yourself with your hands, face grimacing as you breathe in the not-so-fresh air of the cave. weakly, you pat the ground for the rope trailing behind you and tug at once to let lottie know you're okay. you make a retching sound as you move to get up, frothy drool leaking from your lips and onto the cave ground. well, shit, that's never happened before. you'd better hurry and get the fuck out of out here. you can come another time. lottie would understand.

when you get up, reality flashes between that cliff you saw and the cave. it makes you pause, and when you step forward and blink, you're on the cliff. right on the edge. you try to move back but your feet are glued to the ground. the wind blows harshly and makes your eyes well up with tears, and it's only then you realize that you can only move your eyes. everything else is stiff. you try to shout for lottie, but your mouth won't open, and even the choked sob that racks your body doesn't let out. it sounds more like a muffled scream.

the wind blows again but this time it's with more force and it makes you sway back and forth. the feeling makes your stomach sink, and a cold sweat washes over your body. your wide eyes fly to the bottom of the cliff, the clouds and rocks below making it seem like it's millions of miles deep. you start praying for something to wake you up from this hallucination; lottie, the Wilderness, god, who-the-fuck-ever can help you.  

suddenly, just as your body leans forward, about to fall off the cliff, you're back in the caves. you fall down, head bumping against the rocky floor and getting scratched up. your throat tightens and you wheeze, hands reaching up to grab at whatever force is choking you. the feeling is terrible. no matter how hard you try and breathe, you just can't. as the edges of your vision begin to fade to black, you let out a feeble whisper of lottie's name.

· · 𐂂 · ·

lottie tugs at the rope again, heart pounding in her chest when she feels how loose it is. she takes her mask off for a second to call out your name, listening intently for any response back. she hears nothing, and when she pulls the rope down in frustration, it snaps back so easily.

you're not attached to it anymore.

she puts her mask back on so fast that she accidentally scratches her nose. she holds her breath as best as she can as she jogs into the cave, frantically calling out your name and cursing under her breath. lottie tries to tap into the Wilderness, trying to feel where you could be, but she can't seem to sense you anymore. it's like a fading pulse in her head as she takes deep breaths and searches for you.

her eyes tear up and she sniffs, looking around to see if she can spot your body somewhere. there, in the corner, she can see your limp hand. immediately she rushes toward you, dropping to her knees and scooping your weak body into her lap.

"i got you. you're okay, you're okay." she mutters to herself rather than you.

lottie tugs you up and carries you back to the entrance of the cave, her muscles burning as she tries to keep upright and keep you in her arms despite the lack of fresh air in her lungs. she collapses near the opening and apologizes to your unconscious body for accidentally hurting you. her hands cradle your face and she shakes you, body prickling with fear when she notices just how limp you are.

she puts her hands over your heart and starts to pray. "bring them back to us. bring them back to us." your pulse slowly weakens more as she repeats those words over and over, and she gets desperate. she looks around the cave before her eyes land on the flickering candle. "fuck it."

she grasps onto the can that's a candle and slices her hand on the sharp edge, instantly dripping her blood onto your body and moving into a prayer position with her bloody hand over your heart.

"bring them back to me. bring them back to me. bring them back. please. please."

you come back into consciousness screaming for lottie and clawing at your throat. you can finally breathe but barely. lottie's there to shush you and stroke your head, grabbing you by your shirt to tug you into her arms.

"'it's okay, it's okay, you're safe. i got you." she whispers to you, soothingly rubbing your back and helping you get your breathing back to normal. she pushes you back gently and strokes your cheek, her thumb wiping your freshly falling tears.

"i'm sorry, i tried to go as far as i could." your voice is hoarse as you speak and it hurts. you cling onto her warm arms and rub her skin with your thumbs to try and calm yourself down but you can't keep your sobs in. she pulls you back in for a hug and shakes her head. you stay there for a few moments, thinking about whether you should tell her what you saw or stay silent. "i wanna go back now, please."

maybe you'll tell her later.

· · 𐂂 · ·

lottie holds your hand all the way back to the huts, even when you told her you needed to take a piss. it's endearing but still uncomfortable. didn't help the fact that she didn't take her eyes off you either.

the walk back is silent, and you know she feels guilty because she's not saying anything. you want her to say something, but your throat hurts too much to speak, so you just rub her thumb and pull her closer to your side.

when you get back to the shelter, she sits you down on the bed and tells you to stay put while she runs and gets a rag and bowl of water. you don't know why she's cleaning you up when she's the one who's bleeding more than you, but it feels nice to be taken care of by her. honestly, you almost forget about the scratches on your head until you hiss at the slight pain as she cleans them up. lottie leaves again to get her herb paste made from heliotropes and other various plants to put on your wounds, cooing at you quietly when you whine from how much it stings.

"let me put it on your hand?" you suggest after she sets the paste down on the bed and kisses your nose. "it looks bad."

she nods and gives you her hand, and you clean it with some water first before applying the purple-ish paste. lottie bites her lip as you gently rub it across the nasty gash on her palm, and you apologize softly as you finish with it. you bring her hand to your lips so you can kiss it and help her onto your lap and into bed with you, cuddling her side protectively.

"we should take a few days off so you can rest before we go back." lottie mumbles, her fingers dancing along the side of your arm.

you sigh and shut your eyes, stomach swarming with uneasy feelings. "lott, i don't think i want to do this anymore. i mean, fuck, i almost died in there."

she sits up on her arm and leans over you, pieces of her hair tickling your face. "i know, but we need to figure out what the Wilderness wants. you're the closest to It now. It'll tell you what It needs, you just need to learn how to understand It. i can teach you."

you shake your head and gulp down some tears, turning your head away from her and inhaling heavily. "i was on some cliff before i passed out. i couldn't move at all. the vision stopped right as i fell from it, and then that's when i started choking. i don't know what it means. i don't know what any of my visions mean."

lottie frowns and leans over you some more so she can try and catch your gaze, and when you look back at her, her eyes are just as sad as you are. she bends down and captures your lips in a reassuring kiss, resting her head on your forehead as she whispers: "it's okay. we'll figure it out together. you just have to keep trying. we'll be safer next time."

your shoulders slump back against the blankets in defeat. you know she's just being pushy because wants the best for the group, but sometimes you wish she'd listen. you give a half-assed smile and nod, your fingers prodding at the holes in her mesh shirt as you try not to think about how nervous you are to go back.

"can you make me that herb tea? the one that always helps me sleep..." you mumble, feeling like you just need to rest for weeks to forget about today.

[urcoolgf]

the good housekeeping seal

pairing : bf!drew x singer!reader

content : fluff

summary : ever since you and drew started dating, you've been more inspired than ever, so– before your newest album drops– you wanna give your boyfriend a sneak peak (based on 'R.E.M.' by ariana grande)

more drew x singer!reader

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drew knew dating a popstar was dangerous. one wrong move, and a whole album about his mistakes would hit the shelves in no time, but you were worth it to him. plus, he didn’t intend to make any mistakes with you.

the two of you had met about 6 months ago, and everything had been basically perfect. the type of perfect that had you slightly worried, but– for once in your life– you decided to just go with it. you had bad relationships in the past which left you with a deep mistrust when things were going well, but something about drew just made you feel so safe.

you knew it wasn’t easy dating you– not only were you a popstar (he was used to the fame anyway), but you over complicated things and just made yourself hard to love as a way of protecting yourself. in just 6 months, drew had taken those guards down– and even though it scared you to death– it was refreshing. life felt beautiful again, like you were finally seeing in color after years of living in black & white.

before you and drew met, you were so uninspired, so unmotivated that you were questioning if you even wanted to be in the industry anymore. you thought you had lost your touch. lost your voice. but, drew changed all of that. lyrics had been flowing out of you like a waterfall as the two of you had gotten closer.

your next studio album ‘sweetener’ was set to drop in two weeks. the name implying that drew had been the sweetener to your previously sour life. all throughout the writing and recording process you had left drew in the dark. it wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, or want him to hear your work. this whole album process had been so new and vulnerable, and it made you scared.

you knew you wanted to share at least parts of your album with drew before it released for everyone– the album was for him after all. so, one day, when the two of you had nothing else to do, you suggested a trip to the studio.

you and drew were currently on the couch of your apartment in new york city, he was watching something on tv while you indulged yourself in your current read.

“hey, baby? how about a little trip down to the studio?,” you asked, a soft smile on your face. drew just looked at you– almost like he didn’t believe you.

“the studio? you want me to come?,” he had always respected your decision to record alone, so when you offered to take him with you he was shocked to say the least.

“mhm. jus’ got a few things to wrap up before the release,” the look in his eyes already gave you your answer, but you awaited his response anyway. your big doe eyes distracting drew just a bit before he finally answered.

“yeah, of course, baby. let’s go. i’ll drive,” he said, a huge smile took over his face as he quickly stood from the couch, moving to grab his keys. you giggled as you stood after him, following him to the door to put your shoes on.

on the way to the studio, you told drew where to go since he hadn’t been there. his hand covering your thigh, fingers circling the soft skin with a featherlight touch.

once you had arrived and parked, you led him to the studio door, unlocking it with your key. once he stepped inside, he looked like a kid in a candy shop. he took in all the different computers, speakers, audio boards, and the glass wall separating it all from the artist. you made your way inside after him, closing the door, and taking a seat in a chair by the audio board table.

“this is incredible, babe,” he said, moving to sit in the seat next to you, “so, what’re we doin’ here?”

“i actually don’t need to wrap up anything,” you said sheepishly, “i wanted to let you hear some stuff before the album drops… if that’s okay with you?,” you were nervous to say the least, sure he had heard your other music that was already released, but none of that was about him. you felt like this album was the best thing you’ve made– it was everything you had been striving to create your entire career– so, yeah… there was some pressure on you right now. drew could sense it. gently moving his chair closer to comfort you, placing his arm around your shoulder and rubbing soothing circles into it.

“‘course i wanna hear, baby. wanna hear everything you make,” he said quietly. his warm smile made your heart skip a beat.

“‘kay,” you replied. your voice so soft it was almost a whisper. you moved to open the audio file of the song you had been most proud of. it was the fourth track on the album, and it had turned out exactly how you wanted it to. you called it R.E.M. to insinuate a dream-like state, and the instrumentals that accompanied it only added to the ethereal vibe of it.

you made sure your computer was connected to the speakers in the studio, so that drew could get the full experience, before hesitantly pressing play.

the dreamy beat had started playing, and there was officially no going back. drew just looked down, taking in the beat. he had a focused look on his face that made it seem like he was really listening– which he was.

mm-hmm

last night

boy, i met you, yeah

when i was asleep (sleep)

you’re such a dream to me

you watched as drew’s expression softened. he looked back up at you– wide-eyed– to find you already staring at him in anticipation for his reaction. he didn’t say anything while it was playing, just listened intently, looking back at you every so often so you could visible watch his heart melt.

before you speak, don’t move, ‘cause i don’t wanna

wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up (don’t wanna…)

wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up

boy, you’re such a dream to me

if you can believe, babe

boy, you’re such a dream to me

excuse me, um, i love you

drew’s soft chuckle rings through your ears, his beautiful smile leaving an imprint on your heart. he still doesn’t say anything, just taking in all the beautiful melodies and adlibs you conjured up in this masterpiece of a song.

i’ll get you out my mind, mhm, i tried to

but i just want to stand and yell

i will never dare to tell

think i heard some wedding bells, shh, keep it to yourself

is this real? (is this real?)

drew’s head snaps up at the last verse– wedding bells? his heart had never felt as full as it did in this moment. he leans over– arm still around your shoulders– and gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek. his mind now clouded with not only your soothing melodies, but images of your wedding– you walking down the aisle in a beautiful white dress, flowers everywhere, slipping a ring on your finger, and making you his forever.

i could buy you anything, but i cannot buy you

before your boy gets smart, i would never try to

you know i’m thinking to myself, "what happened, why you?"

but when i see you in my dreams, psh, i knew

you know how to treat it, you know how to eat it

you know how to beat it (i know how to keep it)

the good housekeeping seal

(bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum, bum)

‘the good housekeeping seal’ is a term for a ‘stamp of approval’ commonly known amongst celebrities. it means a product has been tried, tested, and determined a good product. the line made drew laugh, as if he had gained the ‘stamp of approval’ from you. he laughed on the outside, but inside, his heart fluttered. you had opened up a little about past relationships, and the fact you considered him one of the good ones meant a lot to him.

the song finally came to a cinematic end, your vocals carrying the beat to a close. drew didn’t even know what to say– it was phenomenal. everything about the song was perfect, he could only imagine how the rest of the album sounded…

“y/n… that was– holy shit, that was phenomenal, baby,” he turned his chair so he was facing you head on, his hands coming to rest on top of your knees.

“really? you liked it?,” you asked. your bright eyes made drew swoon. the fact you thought he wouldn’t like it amazed him.

“liked it? it was heavenly. i felt like i was floating,” he smiled, getting all excited to share his thoughts with you. it warmed your heart to see him passionate about something you were so passionate about.

“and the adlibs in that back were just amazing. everything felt like a dream,”

“yes! that was the goal. i wanted it to feel almost surreal because… well, because that’s how you make me feel,” you looked down as if you were nervous to say the last part. drew brought his hands to your cheeks, pulling your face back up to face his.

“listen y/n… before i met you, i thought my life couldn’t get any better– i had movie contracts i would’ve killed for a couple years ago, friends i never thought i would have, i was working with directors i never dreamed would even know my name. i thought i had it all. life seemed exciting and promising, and i saw everything in vibrant color… at least i thought i did. i never knew how dull my life really was until i met you. these past 6 months have been unbelievable, and now i can’t even imagine how i was satisfied with the life i had before you…,” his blue eyes stared right into yours, admiration consuming them.

his words felt so sincere, something you haven’t heard in a long time… maybe ever– you just lost it. tears began to fall from your eyes. drew’s soft hands immediately moving to wipe the salty drops away.

“i love you… so much,” your words were broken by soft sobs. drew pulled you into him, his tight embrace giving you more comfort than you knew was even possible.

“i promise, baby, i love you more,” he said softly, running his hand down your back, slowly rubbing up and down to calm your cries.

once you finally pull apart, redness staining your cheeks. drew looked at you with the softest eyes you had ever seen, and you weren’t sure he was even real at this point.

“so…,” a breathless laugh escaped you before continuing, “wanna hear some more?”

“c’mon baby, you already know my answer,” drew smirked, moving back to put his arm around your shoulders to listen to the next track you played.

track 2. title: ‘blazed’.

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TAGS ! @drewsswifeyy @drewrry @frankoceanluvr11 @dearestmillls