#i don’t think i’ve been been this tired

[wndaswife]

there’s no need to be brave | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Sometimes things get to be too much, but you know you can always go to Wanda to feel safe and loved. She reminds you how important it is for you to be taken care of.

Word count: 3573

Tags: it’s all fluff, some humour, age gap, lightly implied age regression during one scene, wanda takes care of you and kisses you and is patient and loving and gentle

The front door rattled softly as you unlocked it. From the kitchen, Wanda looked up from her dinner preparation, anticipating your presence after coming from your afternoon classes. 

She gave you the keys to her place a month ago when your classes didn’t align as much with her work hours as it did for your last semester. Now that you had the keys, it was easier to see each other without your schedules aligning. 

You set down your bag in the living room, shedding your coat on top of it, before practically sliding your feet over to the kitchen lazily. You didn’t even lift your head; it was only the vague figure of Wanda that you needed in order to navigate around the counter and wrap your arms around her body. 

Her arms were trapped under yours, forcing her to wiggle them out of your hold so she could hug you. 

“Baby, are you alright?” she asked, her voice light but her tone concerned. 

You buried your face in her chest. You had meant to reply to her question, but as soon as you opened your mouth you no longer wanted to answer, so you mumbled incoherently into her soft breasts. 

“Sweetheart,” Wanda tried again, leaning back to get a look at you.

Finally, you lifted your head, squinting as you looked up at her in the light of the kitchen. She immediately cupped your face with both hands, brushing back your hair. 

“I hardly got any sleep last night,” you said, straightening so your face wasn’t in Wanda’s chest anymore but now facing her. 

Her eyes followed yours as you looked around the kitchen while you spoke. One hand dropped to your shoulder, her thumb stroking you softly while her other hand remained cupping your cheek. 

“Yesterday, I woke up at eight to study, then last night I slept for two hours before my nine a.m. class, then took an hour nap between classes, and my head hurts and I think I’m getting tunnel vision and I’m scared I’m gonna start hallucinating soon, because isn’t that a sign of sleep deprivation?”

Wanda opened her mouth to say something, but you continued. 

“At least I’ve eaten, but I don’t know if it’s enough, because I was still hungry while coming over here, and I can’t go home because they’re fixing the hydro so I don’t have running water until midnight — I don’t know why they scheduled the construction in the middle of the day — and I want to shower, and it was so cold outside–”

Suddenly the hand that had been cupping your cheek was over your mouth, and you finally looked at Wanda who was staring at you with a gentle gaze. Upon meeting her eyes she smiled at you, so subtly that the corners of her eyes crinkled just slightly. 

Slowly, she put down her hand then wrapped that arm around your waist, holding you against her. She dropped her other hand from your shoulder and held your hand. 

“You can shower here. My water is working just fine,” she said slowly. “I’m preparing dinner now, so stay over tonight and we can eat a proper meal together. If you’re hungry now, anything in the kitchen is yours.”

She watched your expression relax and your shoulders untense, and she smiled a little when you tried to shuffle closer although you were already standing against her. 

“Take another nap, baby. Shower in my room then sleep in my bed.”

You nodded wordlessly. 

As your face relaxed and when your mind seemed much less troubled, Wanda took a good look at you. She stroked your hand with her thumb. 

“You do look tired…” she said sympathetically. “Please go up to shower — it’ll relax you. Are you still hungry? I can make something for you before you have your nap. I’ll go up after you’ve finished showering.”

Internally, you felt like teasing her for how she was very much talking to you like you were her child. But oh, how badly you just wanted to be taken care of like a child. 

You nodded again, looking up at her. 

Then, at the sight of her face, her pretty face and her beautiful eyes, and her soft hair and the slope of her nose and the line and curl of her lips, you leaned in for a kiss. 

Wanda pulled back slightly, and your eyes darted up from her lips to her eyes. She let go of your hand, lifting her own in front of your face, wiggling her fingers a little. 

“Don’t lick your lips; I was handling raw meat before you came in and I touched your face,” she warned, smiling guiltily. 

You looked over to the counter and saw Wanda’s bowl of ground meat, and around it, her spices and other vegetables she had yet to prepare. 

At the sight of your to-be dinner and the idea of Wanda preparing it and cooking it all up, you laid your head on her shoulder and buried your face in her neck. 

“Oh, doll…” she whispered, cradling the back of your head as you tucked your face under her jaw. 

“Now you’ll have to shower, right? Because I rubbed raw meat on your neck?” 

Maybe you were imagining it, but you could hear Wanda’s grin forming even though your face was buried in her neck. When she spoke next, you were at least sure that she was speaking while grinning. 

“Is that what you were doing?” she asked. “You could’ve just asked.

Wanda tucked your hair back, exposing the side of your face. She kissed your temple. “Give me a few minutes to finish with the meat, so I can refrigerate it. Wait for me upstairs.”

After some minutes, Wanda found you sitting on the edge of the tub waiting for her. She smiled at the sight of you wrapped in a towel, looking up at her as she entered. 

Eagerly, you all but lept from your spot and turned to run the shower, testing it with your hand until it became warm while Wanda undressed behind you. 

When she had taken all her clothes off, she approached you and undid your towel before laying it on the sink. 

You turned, wrapping your arms around her, feeling her smooth bare skin immediately warming your own upon contact with her. 

“I washed my face,” you informed her before squeezing your eyes shut and puckering out your lips. 

A soft kiss was then pressed to your lips, your lips relaxing from its puckering. Wanda’s hand came to your cheek, her thumb brushing against your cheekbone tenderly. 

“My sweet girl…” she whispered softly as she parted from the kiss. 

In the shower, Wanda washed your hair with her shampoo instead of yours. 

“I’m… feeling kinda…” you started quietly, looking down and playing with your fingers. 

“Mmm?” Wanda hummed, busy with massaging her soapy fingers against your scalp. 

“Kinda… little.”

”I know, baby,” she replied softly. “Just let me take care of you.“

You wondered if Wanda, too, imagined that she heard your smile when it formed bashfully at her response, like you had in the kitchen when you heard her grin.

Earlier, you had been planning to tell Wanda about the other things which had made you feel upset, like how you were behind in your readings and how you were almost certain you did terribly on your midterm paper.

But in the shower, all those things just disappeared. 

A part of you worried for just a moment that Wanda might even think you were being silly or overly dramatic for being upset over only the things you mentioned earlier, so you figured you ought to tell her the whole story. 

But when Wanda turned around and let you wash her hair, you knew there was no way she’d ever think that about you. 

It made you feel like crying. 

Really, you didn’t know why you felt the urge. Maybe it was because it was just a touching sentiment, or because you were overcome with how safe and cared for you felt, in the steam and warmth of Wanda’s shower, her hair in your hands, and her bare body just a few inches from you — Wanda just a few inches from you. 

When she turned around to start washing your body after her hair was rinsed, her eyes fell upon your face for just a moment, and within that moment, you could tell that she noticed you looked like you were about to cry. 

And when you really were about to cry, you didn’t notice yourself; it was Wanda’s immediate comforting that made you realize you were. 

Then, at your soft hiccups, you knew for sure you were crying. 

Her arms surrounded you, and you buried your face in her neck. Your damp cheeks blended with the wet warmth of her skin, making your face feel flushed. 

“Shh, it’s okay now,” she spoke gently. Her arm wrapped around your waist had her warm palm against the middle of your back, her other cradling the back of your head. “I know it gets hard…” 

You sniffled and opened your eyes, watching the water drip from the ends of Wanda’s hair through your bleary eyes. 

“You’re tired and frustrated,” she said. “You just need to be taken care of, right?” She felt you nodding against her shoulder slightly.

“There we go. It’ll be alright, honey. All you need is a little bit of time.”

Your arms squeezed around her waist. 

“I need you,” you insisted. 

“I’m here, Y/N.”

Though you felt you didn’t need anything to eat until dinner, Wanda prepared a snack for you anyway, insisting that you eat something. You asked her to wake you up for dinner because you didn’t want it to get cold before you woke up.

You wanted to wear her pajamas too, so she picked out a comfy pair for you. You were practically beaming as you snuggled down into her neatly-made bed. 

After a few minutes, Wanda came up with some apple slices and some peanut butter on the side. She told you to get to sleep right after eating, and you weren’t even worried you’d accidentally keep yourself up.

With dinner being prepared and Wanda promising to wake you up once it was finished, you snuggled into her bed, promptly falling asleep in her pajamas after eating the snack she put together for you. 

Over dinner, now that you felt far more rested but still extremely eager to sleep cuddled up to Wanda soon, you spoke about her day, and very little about yours, since you didn’t want to think about it.

She sat beside you, touching you occasionally, her hand rubbing your shoulder as she spoke or playing with your fingers that were laying on your thigh.

She asked how you liked dinner, and scooted closer to you when you told her how much you liked it. 

“When was the last time you had a full meal, baby?”

“A full meal?” you asked, thinking about what qualified as a full meal, let alone a meal at all. 

She squeezed your hand as she took a drink from her glass. “One cooked in a kitchen, and warm.”

“Instant noodles in a pot, two evenings ago.”

“That’s not a meal, Y/N.”

“Then… A week and a half ago. When I went for dinner with my friends.”

Wanda let go of your hand and tucked your hair behind your ear. “You need to eat better, baby. Can you come over more often?”

“Can I sleep over more?”

The corners of Wanda’s eyes crinkled when a smile immediately formed on her face, the tips of her ears rising just a twitch. “Please do,” she answered. 

While you were brushing your teeth, Wanda came up after getting the dishes into the dishwasher. She insisted she do it herself while you got ready. 

She smiled at the sight of you still in her pajamas, brushing your teeth in her washroom. She approached you and pressed a kiss to your cheek, your mouth full of minty suds. 

When you had both finished getting ready, you crawled over the bed and laid your head down in Wanda’s lap and brought your knees to your stomach, like a puppy. She set her phone down and laid her hand on your head, massaging your scalp and forehead softly.

Satisfied and relaxed, you closed your eyes. 

“I miss you when you’re busy at school, baby…” she said softly, her voice gentle and a little sleepy. 

You opened your eyes and turned onto your back so you could look up at her. The lamp on her nightstand embraced her in a warm glowing outline around the crown of her head through her hair, making the soft glow look like a halo. 

“Really…?” you asked. 

Her warm hand cupped your cheek, her thumb stroking your skin. She nodded. “So much. I think of you all the time, Y/N. Our phone calls aren’t enough.”

You turned your body and pressed your face against her stomach. 

After a few silent moments of Wanda brushing her fingers through your hair. “Why don’t you take care of yourself? You need to eat and sleep properly, honey.”

You muffled indiscernible words into her stomach, not really trying to give an answer. 

“Are you listening, Y/N?”

You spoke, intelligibly this time, albeit still against her stomach. “Yes, I’m listening.”

“Let’s get into bed,” she said, taking your chin in her hand and making you look up at her. She smiled down at you and you turned your head to kiss her palm. 

You weren’t ready to stop clinging onto Wanda even after she turned off the lights and you got under the blankets together; your arms were wrapped around her waist snugly, your head tucked under her chin. Her hand gently stroked the back of your head.

Your breathing was in time with Wanda’s in a way that when her chest expanded as she inhaled, your shoulders relaxed as you exhaled, creating a subtle push and pull of your bodies’ contact.

“I think I might’ve done really badly on my midterm paper,” you said quietly, turning your head and opening your eyes, looking at the subtle shifting of her shoulders.

“Really?” she asked, continuing to stroke the back of your head. “Why?”

The heavy ache in your chest that arose when you normally thought about your terrible paper had somehow dissipated, and in its place a dull and hollowed out feeling where you expected to feel its weight. 

You tightened your arm around Wanda’s waist, pressing your chest against hers. 

“I knew it was terrible as I was writing it. I was just in such a rush. I didn’t take the time to plan it — nothing,” you explained. The words felt like a confession, finally releasing what you’d done without denying it to yourself and storing it deep within that ache that was presently missing.

“What happens if you get a bad mark?”

For the first time, you genuinely thought about a future that took place after receiving the paper’s grade. “I guess I’d have to talk to a teaching assistant about it… Or my professor.”

Wanda hummed in acknowledgment. “It’ll be alright, Y/N. It’s a midterm for a reason; it's not your final, and you’ll certainly have ways to make up for it.”

“But it’s just stupid…” you mumbled, hiding your face in Wanda’s chest again. 

She pulled her head back a bit and looked down at you. “What’s stupid, baby? Come on, look at me when you’re talking.”

“No, I don’t want to,” you replied childishly. 

Wanda gave in with an exhale through her nose and rested her chin on top of your head again. “Can you tell me what’s frustrating you?”

“I’m just stupid. I’m supposed to be able to do these things properly, and I can’t.”

“It’s not that you can’t, Y/N, it’s just that you couldn’t for that assignment. Don’t call yourself stupid.”

“It’s easy for you to say,” you insisted. “You weren’t there with me when I knew I could’ve done better.”

Above you, Wanda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and sighed. She took your chin in her hand and forced you to lift your head from her chest. 

You looked up at her. 

“Why do you want me to scold you so badly, hm? You want me to agree with you and tell me you should’ve and could’ve done better, and that you’ve done a terrible thing?”

The suggestion wasn’t entirely far from what you had been trying to do, but the idea of Wanda actually doing it made you upset. You felt your bottom lip tremble a little. 

“Why won’t you just make me feel bad about things? Just make me feel bad about things I do.”

Pads of her fingers pressed against your cheeks and Wanda frowned as she looked down at you.

“I would never do that, Y/N,” she told you softly. 

You couldn’t tell if you felt more defiant and stubborn, or overwhelmed again by the realization of how much Wanda loved you. 

“Why not?” you asked. 

Her hand combed down your hair until she was holding the side of your face in her hand. “I love you. You’re loved when you’re with me. That’s why.”

You rubbed eyes with the back of your wrist, feeling an onset of tears. You didn’t want to cry — it wasn’t the time, and all you’d been doing since you arrived was cry and whine and want Wanda’s attention. 

“Oh, baby…” Wanda whispered, kissing your forehead and pulling your head against her chest again. “I know. You’re just feeling overwhelmed.”

You wrapped your arm tightly around her waist again, now feeling her shirt dampening against your cheeks. 

“I will always be proud of you, Y/N,” she spoke against the top of your head. Her hand rubbed your upper back. “I will never scold you for falling behind or making a mistake when you tried your best. And I know you did. You’re a hard worker and a good girl.” 

At her words, your silent tears grew into soft sobs and pathetic whimpers which you didn’t care enough to try and silence. 

Wanda asked with a sweet and patient tone, “You’re a good girl, right, sweetheart?” 

You nodded against her chest. 

She pulled away and lifted your face up with two hands. She wiped your tears away and craned her head down to kiss you softly. 

When she pulled away, you sniffled and immediately wrapped your arms around her neck to give her a hug. 

Several quick kisses were pressed to your cheek, and Wanda hugged you tighter. You knew that her arms were hugged around your torso, but it really felt like she was hugging you all over.

“You will always have somewhere to go to be loved and cared for, Y/N. I love you so much,” she said, her lips brushing against your temple. 

You were a mess of sniffles and whines. “But I can’t come over as much as I want. I wish I was with you all the time. I wish I didn’t have to go anywhere, ever.”

“I know, sweetheart. I wish you could stay here all the time and wake up with me every morning, and be here every time I get back from work. I wish neither of us had to do anything.”

Her fingers combed through your hair. “But I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. I’m not upset when you can’t visit. I know you get busy and I want you to do well in school. You’re a very smart girl.”

“I love you, Wanda,” you said. Your words were slightly muffled but your lips were close to her ear, so she could hear. “I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t have you in my life. I love you so much.”

Wanda’s arms tightened slightly around your body. “I love you too. I don’t know what I’d do without you either. Talking and being with you is my favourite part of every day. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

For the rest of the night, you and Wanda talked about how you’d figure out having you come over more. Now that you had keys to her place, you could come whenever you wanted, even if she was at work, and stay until she got home. 

She suggested you come over just to eat between classes even if she was out, but you said you weren’t ready to be at her place without her yet; it would feel too lonely and you wanted to see her every time you came over. 

In the morning, Wanda made you breakfast while you brewed the coffee. You didn’t want to miss her when she left for work, so you woke up early and decided to study on campus before your first class, so you could leave with her and spend more time with her in the car. 

Everything in the world and in your life made so much sense when you were doing your daily tasks with Wanda, as if your ordinary life was meant to be aligned with hers. 

This was the woman you were supposed to spend your life with, and it was no wonder everything felt better when you were with her.

[notrobinsomethingworse]

Dick: Happy Birthday Tim.

Tim: Yeah. Thanks.

Dick: How’s finally getting out of those teen years?

Damian: Don’t be absurd Grayson. Timothy is turning 17.

Dick: What? No he’s 20.

Tim: Aw first name?

Damian: It is my only gift to you.

Tim: Thanks Dames.

Dick: We are not changing the subject.

Jason: I dunno what to tell you dickbird. Baby birds turning the big one seven.

Dick: Jason you tired to kill him three years ago…

Jason, shrugs.

Steph: I mean he’s always been the little one. Even for me.

Dick: Steph he was the same age as you when you were dating…

Steph, shrugs: Can we have cake?

Tim: Hey! I haven’t blown the candles yet!

Dick, struggling: Cass… please.

Cass, ruffling Tim’s hair: little brother.

Tim: Aww thanks Cass.

Dick: Bruce come on. You gotta believe me.

Bruce: Hm

Tim: You did gaslight me for my 16th birthday. That was before Jason came.

Bruce, thoughtfully: Hm.

Dick: WHAT- No. I’m talking to both of you about that later. Tim is 20. It’s physically impossible for him to have been 17 FOR THREE YEARS.

[Varying degrees of staring]

Tim, whispering: Dick? Yeah kinda pointless doing this. I’ve tried before, they all just shrug it off.

Dick: What? So how old are you?

Tim: Probably 17? I’m starting to think I’m cursed or something honestly. I’m not too worried about it unless Damian starts becoming my older brother or something strange.

Dick: What.

Tim, nodding: Pretty sure I accidentally made a deal with the devil or something. Not quite sure. My memories a bit fuzzy on that year.

Dick: WHAT.

[olderwomenenthusiast]

jealousy & confessions (spencer reid)

PAIRING: spencer reid & fem reader DESCRIPTION: you speak to jj about your jealousy and in return, encourages you to confront spencer CAUTION: jealousy, self-doubt WORD COUNT: 3.1k

The bullpen is buzzing with activity, and you’re trying to bury yourself in your work, hoping the overwhelming sense of insecurity and jealousy will subside. It doesn’t, though. Not when Spencer is still laughing with Julia - or Jules, as he’s started calling her now, the nickname rolling off his tongue with an ease that makes something inside of you snap. You know it’s irrational, but you can’t help it. She’s like a mirror image of him: sharp, witty, awkward in the same charming way, and she’s here, effortlessly sliding into his world. The way they talk to each other, the way he listens to her, it’s like something you’ve always wanted, but never dared to ask for.

Spencer’s eyes light up when she speaks, and you feel the pit in your stomach grow deeper. You can’t help but think: What does she have that I don’t?

She’s leaning in, gesturing to a case file, and Spencer’s nodding along, his gaze locked on her with that familiar intensity. You can feel your own eyes narrowing, watching them from the corner of your desk, trying not to stare too obviously. There’s something about the way she moves, the way she speaks, like she gets him. Maybe better than you ever could.

The tension in your chest grows with every passing moment, the quiet ache turning to frustration. Spencer looks up from the file for a moment, catching your eye. He offers a quick smile, polite, but distracted. The same smile he gives when he’s trying to be kind, but you know his focus is elsewhere. You don’t know why it hits you so hard. You’re just friends, right? ... Right?

Julia catches your gaze and raises an eyebrow, an almost knowing smile on her face, like she’s aware of the quiet storm brewing in you, as if she acted this way on purpose. But before you can process what that means, she turns to Spencer, nudging him lightly. “Hey, I should head out. Got an early shift at the lab tomorrow, and I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to be late.” She laughs, and Spencer laughs with her, but there’s a sudden shift in the air; like something unspoken passes between them before she grabs her things and heads for the door.

You feel a sense of relief, almost as if you were holding your breath this whole time. But then it hits you. Now what? Now that she’s gone, you have no excuse to hide behind. Spencer turns back to his desk, his attention momentarily lost in the case files again. The knot in your chest tightens, the unease swirling in your stomach like a storm that refuses to pass.

JJ, who had been keeping a careful eye on you from across the room, notices the shift. She walks over, her expression soft but knowing. “You good?” she asks, leaning against your desk.

You try to brush it off, focusing on the paperwork in front of you. “Yeah. Just… tired.”

“Uh-huh,” JJ hums, crossing her arms. “I don’t think that’s it. I’ve seen that look before.” She raises an eyebrow. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”

You glance up at her, unable to keep the frustration from your face. “What look?”

“The one where you’re trying to hide the fact that you’re jealous,” she says, her voice a little teasing but full of concern. “It’s written all over your face. You know you’re allowed to feel that, right?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It’s not that simple, JJ. It’s just… she-” You cut yourself off, not sure how to explain it, or even if you should.

JJ doesn’t let you off the hook, though. “Spencer is your friend, and he always will be. But I think you know it’s more than that, right? You’re just scared to admit it to him… or to yourself.”

You look away, avoiding her eyes, because the truth stings more than you want it to. You don’t want to deal with it. It’s easier to keep it buried, to pretend like your feelings for Spencer are just a little crush, something that’ll pass. But deep down, you know better. You know it’s not that simple.

“Why is it so hard to just tell him how I feel?” you murmur, almost to yourself.

JJ’s expression softens, and she places a hand gently on your shoulder. “Because you’re scared of what it’ll mean. Scared of what will happen if you’re honest with him. But you can’t keep hiding, not forever. If you don’t tell him, you’ll just keep torturing yourself like this. And believe me, I know how much it sucks to keep things in when you’re this close to someone.”

You want to argue, to make a joke, to pretend it doesn’t matter, but it’s impossible. The tightness in your chest, the ache of longing that you’ve pushed down for so long, can’t be ignored anymore. Spencer and the way he’s always been there for you, the way he understands things about you no one else does; it’s hard to ignore the depth of what you feel for him.

“Okay,” you finally say, the word coming out more as a whisper than you intended. “I’ll do it.”

JJ gives you a small smile, squeezing your shoulder. “You’ve got this. Just be honest with him, okay? Spencer deserves to know what’s really going on with you.”

You nod, feeling a mixture of dread and hope swirling inside you. You don’t know how Spencer will react, or even if he feels the same way, but you know one thing for sure: You can’t keep living like this, hiding behind your own feelings.

As the room settles back into its usual rhythm, you turn your attention back to Spencer, who is sitting at his desk, typing away, his back to you. You know the moment has to come soon. You just hope you can find the courage to say the words before it’s too late.

The next few hours pass in a blur. The case demands attention, but your mind is constantly circling back to Spencer. You feel like you're walking around with a thousand thoughts bouncing inside your head, none of them settled or organized. And with every minute that passes, your resolve grows weaker. You know you need to talk to him. If you don’t, you’ll just keep spinning in place, and nothing will ever change.

The team disperses for lunch, and you find yourself standing by the door of the bullpen, staring at Spencer’s desk. He’s engrossed in his work, completely unaware of the storm brewing just behind you. JJ’s words echo in your mind, giving you the push you need. You’ve got this. Just be honest with him. It’s the hardest thing in the world, but it’s also the only thing that will ever give you peace.

Taking a deep breath, you walk over to Spencer’s desk. Your heart beats faster with every step, but you can’t turn back now. When you reach him, he doesn’t notice immediately, his eyes glued to the screen in front of him. You hesitate for a moment, but then you speak, your voice quieter than you want it to be.

“Spencer.”

He looks up, blinking as he adjusts his glasses. There’s that warm smile of his, the one that makes your heart stumble in your chest. “Hey. What’s up?”

For a moment, you don’t know how to begin. You feel like you’re standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down at something you’ve been avoiding for so long. “I… I need to talk to you. About something.”

Spencer frowns, concern flickering in his eyes. “Sure, what’s on your mind?”

You swallow hard, feeling your stomach twist. You think of Julia and how easy it was for her to slip into Spencer’s world, how she’s already got that effortless connection with him. How much it hurts. How much it makes you question everything about your own relationship with him. “It’s about… you and Julia,” you say, your voice faltering slightly.

Spencer’s brow furrows in confusion. “Julia? What about her?”

The question stirs up something hot in your chest, a mix of jealousy and frustration, and it spills out before you can stop it. “I don’t know. I guess I just… I guess I’m jealous of her.” The words feel foreign, even to your own ears, but they’re out now, and there’s no taking them back. “You two… you seem to get along so easily. You talk about everything so effortlessly, and you smile at her in a way you don’t smile at me. I just… I don’t know, it makes me feel like I don’t belong here, like I’m not enough.”

Spencer blinks at you, clearly caught off guard by the admission. He opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, the floodgates opening now that the words are coming. “It’s not just that. It’s… it’s more than that. I don’t even know how to explain it, but when I see you with her, it’s like I’m invisible. And I don’t even know why it hurts this much. It doesn’t make sense, Spencer. I don’t make sense.” You’re rambling now, your breath coming faster, but you can’t stop yourself. “I don’t know how to feel about this. I didn’t ask for these feelings, but now… now I’m just so scared that you’ll want to be friends with her, maybe something more, and it's not me.”

There’s a long pause, and you wish you could disappear, wish you could take it all back and bury it inside where it belongs. But Spencer’s gaze is soft, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, he leans back in his chair, setting his pen down slowly, his eyes studying you carefully. It made you nervous.

“First of all,” he begins, his voice steady but gentle, “You’re not invisible to me. You never have been. I know I’m… not great at showing it sometimes, but I care about you. A lot.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “And I get it. I know I don’t always make things clear, and maybe I should have been more aware of how you might be feeling, but I never wanted you to feel like you weren’t enough.”

You swallow hard, unsure whether to look at him or not, your chest tight with a mixture of relief and anxiety. “Then why… why do you act like that with her?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “She seems to have everything you want. She’s like you, but… better, I guess.”

Spencer shifts in his seat, his gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t know what it looks like from the outside, but I don’t want to be around someone just because they’re like me. That’s not what matters. What matters is how someone makes me feel and how I feel when I’m with them. And I feel things with you, things I’ve never been able to put into words, but they’re there. I promise you that.”

Your breath catches in your throat, his words soft but hitting you like a thunderclap. You blink, trying to steady yourself, trying to process what he’s saying. “I don’t know what to do with that,” you say, your voice trembling.

Spencer leans forward, his eyes earnest. “You don’t have to do anything with it right now. But I need you to understand that my relationship with Julia doesn’t change how I feel about you. Nothing changes that.”

You’re silent for a moment, absorbing his words, letting them wrap around you like a lifeline. The weight of your jealousy, your frustration, starts to loosen its grip on you. You’re not invisible. Spencer doesn’t want to push you aside for someone else. Maybe you’ve been afraid of your own feelings for so long that you never allowed yourself to admit how much he means to you.

“I guess I’ve just been scared,” you admit quietly, your voice small. “Scared that if I said anything, it would ruin what we have. But I don’t want to lose you, Spencer.”

You couldn't.

He gives you a small, soft smile, his eyes full of something you can’t quite name. “You’re not going to lose me. I’m right here.”

The words hang in the air between you, full of promise, full of things left unsaid, but for now, it’s enough. You’ve finally said what you needed to say. And Spencer? Spencer is here, his presence unwavering, offering you more than you ever thought you could have.

The silence stretches between the two of you after his reassurance, and the air feels charged in a way you don’t quite know how to handle. Spencer is still leaning forward, his gaze never wavering from yours, but there’s a certain tension in his posture now, like he’s unsure of something, something important? maybe.

You can feel your pulse quicken, the sudden awareness of him making your stomach flip. For a moment, it’s as if everything else fades away, and all that’s left is the two of you. His vulnerability, the honesty in his eyes, it’s almost too much to process.

“So…” Spencer clears his throat, shifting in his chair slightly. He rubs the back of his neck nervously, and his eyes flicker down, then back up to meet yours. “I… I guess, um, what I’m trying to say is… you know, after everything we’ve talked about… Maybe we should… do something. You know. Outside of work?”

His voice trails off, and you feel the awkwardness radiating off of him in waves. He’s still trying to find his footing, his usual calm demeanor slipping just a bit. Your heart flutters, but it’s mixed with nerves, you’ve never seen him this unsure of himself before. Not in the way that makes him stumble over his words, not like this.

“Like what?” you ask, voice almost a whisper, unsure if you’re even interpreting this right. Is he… is he asking what I think he’s asking?

Spencer hesitates, glancing away for a moment as if trying to find the right words. He shifts in his seat again, looking at the table for a moment before looking back at you, his face slightly flushed. “Like, a… a date. Maybe? If you… if you’re okay with that. I mean, I’m not... I’m not trying to pressure you or anything. But I think, after everything we’ve talked about, I… I just wanted to, you know, be honest with you. And maybe… I don’t know, it might help us… figure things out. Together.”

The words tumble out in a rush, and Spencer looks almost apologetic, his hands twitching in his lap like he’s not sure what to do with them. The awkwardness is almost endearing, but it also makes your heart swell with a mix of affection and relief. He’s not perfect, and neither are you, but maybe that’s exactly what makes this moment feel so real.

You blink a few times, processing what he just said. “A date?” you repeat, your voice sounding a little breathless.

Spencer nods, his gaze shifting to the side briefly before coming back to you. “Yeah. I mean, only if you want to. I just - I thought maybe, after everything that’s happened, we could… I don’t know, try something new. Together.” He repeats.

You feel something shift inside of you, like a weight lifting, replaced by a warmth that spreads through you, calming the nervousness that had built up in your chest. Spencer’s asking you out. For real. And despite how nervous he is, despite the awkwardness, you can feel the sincerity in his words, and that makes it all the more meaningful.

You take a deep breath, smiling a little, and you finally nod. “I’d like that,” you say softly, your voice steady but full of something deeper, something more. “I’d really like that, Spencer.”

A slow smile tugs at his lips, the kind that makes your heart skip. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, your voice more confident this time.

Spencer leans back in his chair, his relief palpable. His eyes light up, and he chuckles, a nervous but happy sound. “Okay. Well, um… when would work for you?” He’s still fumbling a bit, but it’s sweet, endearing, even. “I mean, we could go somewhere low-key, like a coffee shop. Or, uh, dinner? Something not too fancy…”

You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound easy now. “A coffee shop sounds perfect,” you say, feeling the tension finally ease, like a dam breaking. “How about this weekend?”

Spencer’s smile widens, his eyes lighting up as his earlier nerves give way to genuine happiness. “This weekend sounds great. It’s a date, then.”

The words hit you with a rush of warmth, and for a moment, you both just stand there, taking it all in. The awkwardness is still there, lingering in the air, but now it feels different. Now, it feels like a new beginning. The tension that had built up over the past hours slowly fades, replaced with something lighter, something that makes your heart flutter in a way you’re still trying to understand.

Spencer stands up suddenly, the movement swift but almost shy, like he’s unsure of what to do next. He takes a small step toward you, and before you can even process what’s happening, he leans in just enough to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. It’s soft, tentative, but the warmth of it spreads through you, making your heart race all over again.

You freeze for a second, your pulse skipping, and Spencer pulls back, his face a little flushed, his lips curling into a small but genuine smile. “I’ll see you this weekend,” he says, almost like he’s confirming it for himself.

You nod, still a little dazed, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your own lips. “I’ll be there,” you say, your voice steady, but underneath it, there’s a nervous excitement you can’t quite hide.

As you turn to head back to your desk, trying to get your bearings, you catch sight of JJ, who’s been watching from a distance. She’s leaning against the doorframe with a knowing grin on her face. Her eyes meet yours, and she gives you a sly thumbs-up. It’s subtle, but you know exactly what she’s doing, and it makes you blush despite yourself.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile that stretches across your face. JJ’s approval is exactly what you needed to feel that much more confident about what just happened. You sit back down at your desk, your thoughts racing, and for the first time in what feels like forever, everything feels just right. Spencer’s words linger in your mind, and the small kiss on your cheek is a promise of something more to come.

And as you glance back at him across the room, you can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for the weekend, for what might unfold between you and Spencer, now that the walls are finally coming down.

[fawnhart]

drew begs bambi to forgive him ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

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

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

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

How dare he show up?!

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

she had every right to be

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Drew blinked, startled. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖��𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[asksonicverse]

Hello! I have two questions:

1. I noticed you tagged your work as Sonadow for Prime and Sonamy for Boom. I'm daying to know how the two Sonics react to their different tastes in partners.

2. How would these Sonics and Shadows get along with the Movie version?

[ Creator Special ]

Hello! I’m going to be an answering a few of these questions I’ve gotten that would work much better if I just answer them like this!

So, Yes you’re correct, Sonamy for Boom and Sonadow for Prime and SATBK. At the moment, Paradox and Prism are both SINGLE (but who knows?) And Bandi is in a complicated relationship with his Amy.

Since it’s going to be a second before we really get into the “stories” of this Ask Blog, I’ll give one word, shock. And depending on who, maybe a bit of horror. I can also promise, a lot of embarrassment! And don’t think Paradox and Prism will get all the fun, I’ve got plans for you Bandi…

Yeah basing it pretty much just off of vibes. Or other random things. The oldest/most mature Sonic is no doubt King Arthur and then Classic and Pipsqueak are the youngest Sonic’s.

Although I’d say least responsible Sonic has to belong to either Bandi or Ego.

Prism and Paradox. Very quickly took control of the situation, most have an inkling of respect for that.

Can you guys tell I’ve watched Sonic Prime four times yet?

Tired. After he gets in a good nap he’ll be fine. Usually they don’t need sleep, but after everything they’ve been doing??

Who?

lol JK, uhh I have never read the Archie Comics nor do I have a desire to. So… those guys are just gonna… float in the void for now. Too much lore for me to catch up on.

Big white room! Lots of space! It’s also rectangular instead of a square.

And who knows? Maybe something may happen to cause it to expand in the future?

Hehe thanks!

[This is the first creator special] | Next

[transformers-spike]

You put Breakdown with a gutbuster in my head, and now I need. For him to use it. On me. (Aka reader)

Bonus points if it's disgustingly cute and sweet and BD gets lots of love and praise. 🥹🥺

I overdid it. Again. Thank you @drunkeninlovesailor for beta-reading this fic and smacking some sense into me when self-doubt reared its ugly head. And I will go on to say @ss-shitstorm made me adore Breakdown so much more through Breaking Bread. I look up pictures of him and cry And yes, this is a sequel to Visitors - so back to the heatverse

Knock Out always goes first. Breakdown doesn’t mind it. At least he shouldn’t. He knows he’ll have his turn with you. Everyone does.

Second or seventh place, it doesn’t matter. He should be grateful to have a chance. Just like he should be grateful he didn’t lose more than one optic. Or the feeling in his left arm. Or his honor.

Again, it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. It’s his turn. No superior waiting at your habsuite, no humiliating dismissal (obviously, they don’t mean for it to seem humiliating – they’re his superiors after all, and he has to obey them) – only you in the midst of your heat cycle.

The “breeding room”, as you jokingly call it, is actually Knock Out’s old habsuite. Repurposed, yeah, but he’s been here enough times to recognize it. Any Con worth their ball-bearings can upgrade after reaching third class. Knock Out used to be a first class. Then he was promoted to Chief Medical Officer and skipped a rank. Breakdown is stuck in second class. Better than first. Better than being a vehicon. He should be satisfied.

You’re curled up in your oversized berth on top of the heating pad. “Hey, squishy,” he whispers, taking his usual place next to you. “Don’t tell me Knock Out tired you out.” Your answer is a snort. You stretch, flesh poking out from under your frame coverings. A common sight by now, but his cooling fans didn’t get the memo. His frame vibrates with their familiar hum.

“Like what you see handsome?” you ask and scuttle up to him, wearing that precious spark-warming smile. He returns it full force.

“What can I say? Even a one-opticced oaf can recognize true beauty.” “Careful, partner. There’s only so much I can take before jumping on your spike.” He barks a laugh. “It may come sooner than you think.” “Bring it. I’m ready to deepthroat until your system reboots. But first -” you huff as you climb into his lap, waving away the servo he’s offering. Once comfortably seated in his lap, you cheekily rub your aft against his interface panel.

“Spill the tea, sis.”

“Hmph…” He drums his digits over his thigh. “We’ve had a record break in the mines! I haven’t seen them this happy in quartexes. There was a small party at homebase, squad’s been celebrating with engex.”

“Homemade?”

“Nah – I’ve checked. I won’t let them pull that stunt again.” He winces at the memory. B15F. Poor scrapper’s been euthanized well before his time. There wasn’t much left to save. The engex melted right through his fuel tanks. Breakdown didn’t pride himself on morality anymore – none of them did. But it was the right call – even if the uncertainty is tearing through his circuitry like a horde of scraplets. Could Knock Out have fixed B15F? Or maybe it would’ve just dragged out his suffering for a chance at nothing. His conjunx had studied at a bigshot academy – Breakdown’s knowledge’s based around rushed medical training. “You okay, big guy?” He snaps out of it. “Yeah! Everything’s good.” You can’t see his reassuring smile with his massive chassis in the way. But maybe if he keeps it up he’ll really mean it.

“You sure? You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” His smile falters. If a human has noticed it… who else has? Is this why Dreadwing’s been especially tolerant of his mistakes? Scrap, Breakdown almost misses his commanding officer’s reproaches. Could he get any more pitiful for frag’s sake? Proving himself after losing an optic to fleshies is bad enough. He’s not an invalid – he won’t be demoted to janitorial duties after working his aft off to make it this far.

“Workload’s been pretty intense. Been on my mind a lot.” He adds a chuckle to convince you – but he can’t see your expression with his chassis in the way.

“Bad enough for the vehicons to get blackout drunk again?”

“Found them recharging in mine carts.”

“Just like a college frat party, huh?” He has no idea what that means. Doesn’t stop him from laughing, though. “You should’ve seen them getting out! The sight brought lubricant to my optic.” “Scrambling like turtles stuck on their backs?” Oh – those, he definitely remembers. “Better. Remember that video you sent of the cat-looking thing surrounded by fermented fruits?” “The raccoon?” “Yeah! Struggling to sit up, then falling back in again!” You snort louder. “Ah. An absolute classic. You should totally film it next time, I would kill to see it.” “Oof. I’d love to, but I’m not sure I can do that while on shift. Ask Soundwave. Nothing escapes him.” Especially any contamination of the medbay – his processor shudders at the memory. At least it wasn’t Commander Starscream. Fooling around’s been kept to Knock Out’s habsuite ever since. And outside the ship, but that’s not the Intelligence Officer’s business.

“More than you know…” you say. Your tiny digits sneakily stroke the protomatter between his hip and thigh. The touch isn’t sensual. At least he doesn’t think it’s supposed to be. You’re not shy about squeezing, biting or running your glossa over it. This feels different. Hesitant.

“You know… you rarely visit first.” He sputters. “It’s not that I don’t want to or anything!” He shifts his frame and cranes his neck to take a good look at you. No success. “It’s that… I’m still a soldier, and they’re my superiors.” “I know that, silly. I’m talking about how you always let Knock Out have the first go at me before either of your shifts start. Why is that?” “I…” He shakes his helm. “Come on, second place doesn’t make any difference. As long as I get to pay you a visit, I’m happy!” His vox is strained. He meant to sound cheerful. What came out felt like rust being scraped off mesh.

You sink your digits into his thigh. Not enough to hurt. Never enough to hurt. A single fleshie can’t hurt a Cybertronian. But it’s clearly meant as a warning. Even he can tell that.

“Dude, just ask to go first. Knock Out is lovely and all, but you shouldn’t neglect yourself for his sake. I want you to come around and let loose before anyone else. Hell, you deserve it. Do you want me to ask Megatron personally? I can do that, no prob-” “No!” It comes out too desperate. “No,” he repeats. Softer. “The others don’t do well with favorites. Uh… except maybe Soundwave, but he doesn’t count.” Breakdown cringes. He wants no part in their power struggles, especially Commander Starscream’s. Else he’d end up at the barrel of his Master’s cannon.

“Okay… but my point still stands. Ask Knock Out to reschedule next time orr I’m bringing Megatron into this.” His vents huff, servos drawn into fists.

“Got it,” he relents. “I’ll talk to him, but if he refuses-” “He won’t refuse,” you say none-too-softly. “We’ve had a chat post-coitus.” He blinks. “You cannot be serious.” “Low and behold, I am. What? Did you expect me not to address it?” “He’s going to be furious at me.” “Like hell . If he so much as lifts a digit, I’ll be happy to inform Megatron and get him put in his place. He’s your superior in the medbay, not outside of it last I checked. And trust me, I’ve been checking.” He clenches his jaw and offlines his optic. “We’re not…” he starts gently, leveling his words carefully. “We’re not Newsparks. There’s a balance we’ve established on the Nemesis. All of us. Bringing Lord Megatron into this won’t offset the balance. It’ll destroy it. What we have here,” he gestures at the small habsuite. “Is thanks to his generosity. I don’t want to lose this because of some petty interface stuff. If he intervenes… I doubt we’ll still be able to visit.” There’s a long pause. He gives you the time to mull it over. An apology already on his glossa. “I understand. I know it’s not my place to call the shots. Part of me wishes that…” You swallow. “Part of me wishes that I could make things easier for you guys. You’ve all been through so much, and I know I’m only the ship’s resident pet or whatever, but I can throw my weight around a bit. You know, use my position for good?” “For good? Primus, you’re already doing us enough good!” “Hm, not exactly. You’re the ones helping me with my heat when he’s not around. Ugh – I would be suffering without you guys.” You squeeze his thigh. “Man-” you laugh nervously. “I hope I’m not getting too sappy. You’re, like, the only one I can have these conversations with.” His fans stutter. “Really? Not even Lord-” “Not even,” you repeat with finality. There’s a comfortable silence. Breakdown is smiling to himself.

“Hey, big guy.” “Yeah, squishy?” “Wanna kiss?” “Is that even a question?” he asks as he picks you up from his lap, servos cradling your fragile human frame. “Mmm, you know the answer.” You touch the sides of his face. His cooling fans flip to the second setting. Your hands are soft. Incredibly soft. His vents cease functioning entirely as you kiss him. Your glossa is warm and wet. His circuits crackle with charge. How could something so small push his systems into overdrive? When you pull away, he’s left cold and yearning. You don’t waste a klik undressing yourself, tossing your frame coverings over his servos and onto the berth. His lips find yours again. You devour his intake like your fuel tanks are empty.

Knock Out satiated you groons ago, but you’re already running hot with want. His heavy engine purrs. “Someone’s eager to get spiked,” he mutters against your intake. You ex-vent sharply and kiss again, grinning against his lips. He slides a digit between your legs, which you immediately part. There’s still feeling in this one, taking in the heat of your slick valve. There’s no trace of your last interface, only a craving for more. A hiss escapes you as he rubs the digit over your minuscule anterior node. Your hips buck into him, teeth grazing his lip.

“Please, stop teasing already. You know I can’t take it.” “I’m not a tease - that’s Knock Out’s job.” He swipes his glossa over your intake. “I’m the total opposite. So, what do you say? Is your little valve ready to take my spike?” Your optics widen, lubricating in excitement. “Oh finally!” You press your helm against his. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this! I’m so glad the recent energon haul got you enough to mass displace.” “Actually, I’ve been rationing my energon for a deca-cycle!” You step away from his helm and look at him in… strange horror. “You what?” There’s pity in your optics and disappointment furrowing your optical ridge.

Oh frag him! Why did he have to open his intake? “It’s nothing to worry about, I swear! I’ve done this plenty of times in the past – there was this time my unit was stranded in the Sea of Rust and there was no energon for almost a whole deca-cycle! Impressive, right? You don’t see any seekers surviving that!” Your horrified expression worsens. “What do you mean you’ve been starving yourself for weeks just to mass displace and fuck me?”

“Come on, it’s not really starving! We bots can deal with it better than you humans!” he stammers, engine revving in panic. “It’s not about that – it’s about sacrificing yourself for… for this!” you gesture at your body. “Fuck’s sake, you could have told me! I was waiting for you to ask! I could have gotten you the energon ages ago!” “Then why didn’t you?” The words smash through his intake before he can stop them, leaving him to clean up the mess.

His spark tightens when you flinch. It’s the first time he’s startled you. The first time he’s seen you scared. “I… I didn’t…” Your gaze falls. “Scrap, I’m so sorry! It’s not my place to say it, I didn’t mean-” “It’s fine,” you gently stop him. He immediately yields. “You don’t have to apologize. I just… didn’t expect it to be this bad.” A sigh leaves your intake. “I still want to help, though. If Knock Out can mass displace almost every time he visits, isn’t there plenty of energon to go around? Don’t you also work in the medbay on top of everything? You deserve at least the same amount of rations.” “It’s more complicated than that,” he mutters. “Knock Out outranks me.” “So? You’re just one bot, it won’t drain the reserves.” He presses a servo to his helm. “My frame type’s the issue. Us warrior class bots need far more energon than the average vehicon.” “Yes, and? You’re still just one more war frame. Who else is there? Megatron, Dreadwing – that makes three.” You bite your lip when you meet his optic. “Let me give you a hand. I’ll leave the whole thing with Knock Out alone if you let me help with this.” “I…” His vents huff. “Okay. I’ll let you take care of it. But, please tell him not to summon me. Else it’ll seem suspicious.” A smile tugs at the corner of your intake. “Got it. Easier done than said.” Hesitating, you reach out to touch his cheekplate. He leans in. You take a deep in-vent. “I’m sorry for blowing up like that. I’ve been so worried about everyone lately, I’ve overstepped so many boundaries. The energon thing just… drove me off the edge.” “It’s okay,” he says, unsure of his own words. “It happens to the best of us. If it’s any comfort,” he grimaces, “Knock Out’s been riding my tailpipe about my energon intake for the whole deca-cycle. That’s why I… tried to keep it a secret. Until now.” “Did it work on him?”

“Frag no!” He laughs. “For all his drawbacks, he’s the closest thing to a doctor on this ship. Noticing something’s wrong’s part of his primary code!” His laughter dies down. “Sorry. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I definitely ruined the mood.” “Not at all.” You press your cheek against his. “If it’s any comfort on my part, I’ve been called someone else’s name during interface.” His optic buzzes in its socket. “Who?” he demands without meaning to. “Who?” He repeats, far softer – now a polite question. “No one in High Command, sadly,” you say like you’ve read his mind, adding an apologetic shrug. “Another human before the alien shebang happened.” “Ah.” He averts his optic to hide his disappointment. “Come on, man. You know I would have immediately rung you up if Starscream had been moaning Megatron’s name during overload.” He cracks a smile. “I guess you’re right.” “Gossip girls forever?” You offer your fist. “Gossip girls forever,” he agrees, tapping it with his digit. You both mimic an explosion and draw your servos away in slow motion. “Still not sure what explosive punches have to do with gossip.” “Shhh - it’s a human bestie thing.” You kiss him again. Gently at first, then harsher with his wordless encouragement – your hunger makes his engine rev. “Want to start with valve to glossa action? How about we keep mass-displacement for the final course?” “Like I’ll ever refuse a free refueling.” You snicker. The noise is so precious it makes his joints weak. Lying on his abdomen with you in his servos, you writhe as he presses his glossa to your valve. “Fuck,” you hiss. “You okay?” he’s unable to hide the smugness in his tone. “I thought Knock Out had the first taste.” “ Fuck , Knock Out. I need your glossa right now. No one else’s.” His fans shudder. Once, handling someone so small was circuit-frying. He’d been with plenty of minicons, but never an organic. Those bots could take a good pounding. Fleshies? Not so much.

“Fuck.” You shiver as his glossa rubs up and down your pretty valve. Your hips buck into it. He grins between your legs and licks again. And again. And again. Until he feels your servos on his crest. “I need to ride your face,” you say – more declaration than request. He blinks, grin widening. “That desperate, huh?” “Shut up,” you growl – too adorable for your own good. How he wants to squeeze and smother you against his face. Your legs are soft on either side of his cheeks, servos gripping onto his crest with impressive strength for a creature so small and frail. He holds his glossa out for you to use as you please, two digits holding your hips in case you tumble off. “How…” You pant. “How are you this good?” He shrugs with his free arm. His vents blast harder. “I’m not even doing anything,” he mumbles with his glossa out. “Of course you are. You’re being your sweet himbo self,” your words falter as you keep riding. 

His cheekplates heat up. “Uh, a what now?”

There’s no answer, only your legs shaking as you furiously grind against his intake. You grip onto his crest, your entire frame shaking. “Breakdown!” you call out, vox breaking. A sudden burst of charge travels down his interface array. His pressurized spike clanks against his panel. “Frag,” he groans. His spike’s throbbing, Ugh, it hurts like he swung it against a wall.

At least you’re oblivious to his, uh, mishap – twitching against his glossa while trying to slow your ventilation. The plating of hips shifts and his panels release his array. His valve is soaking with transfluid, steam almost emanating off of it after overheating for half a groon. The cold air makes his spike twitch. “Is it… is it time?” you ask weakly, turning around to look at his lap. “Oh hey, so that’s where the noise came from.” He cringes, but still helps you get down. You scurry towards the middle of the berth and cheer out “Show me the goods, big boy!” Mass displacement is something he’d done in the past – back on Cybertron when there was plenty of energon to go by. Now it’s just a waste. Not for you, obviously! Primus, you’re worth every last drop. His working receptors buzz with sensation. System diagnostics appear at the corner of his vision. Mass conversion: successful

Warning:

Minimum energon required: 70%

Current level: 93% His joints are calibrated, there’s no ache in his processor, subspace feels fine – everything’s in working order. He can rest easy and focus on the important stuff. “Woah.” you beam at him. It’s uncanny to see you… so much bigger than he’s used to.

The hug is sudden but not unwelcome. Your helm comes up to his chassis, but only barely. It doesn’t take long for you to pull him on top (the close view is to offline for), and drag him into a kiss. His spark pulsates like never before.

“Please, spike me,” you beg. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” He looks down at his spike. Then back at you. There are many things he’s learned as a nurse, one of which being: pick the smallest pair of forceps when operating on minicons. Sadly, he cannot replace his spike with a smaller one. But he can prepare you for the operation. “Hey, how about I get you started with something else before you get the hammer?” He lifts up the servo with functioning receptors and flexes his digits. “Promise you’ll rail me afterwards.” “Promise.” He grins.

He’s a denter first and all, but he’s always been careful with his servos back when brushing debris off his comrades after a busted demolition job. It felt like second nature to him. They were at the bottom of the scrapheap. Caring for others, even in small ways, made their plight bearable. His own at least. He pushes in, chuckling as you furrow your optical ridge, intake slightly agape. “Does it sting?” “No.” Another digit is carefully added. You whimper and grit your dentae. One digit and a half then. “What about now? How do you rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10?” “Oh shut up…” Your tiny valve is absolutely soaked, slick with human lubricant, struggling to accommodate him. If you’ve taken the entire High Command, you can take him. Sure, he’s been told his spike is a “weapon forged by Solus herself”, but Megatron’s definitely bigger. And you’ve fragged him. Everyone knows that. Your valve’s more durable than it seems.

You clench around his digits, expression so lovely it’s clear you’re about to overload. He cautiously curls a digit inside of you. The gentle pressure’s an easy way to make your valve calipers clam down on him. Another whimper escapes you as he rubs at the spot. Your pedes push against his thighs, a desperate plea to stop. But he knows better. “Cute,” he thinks as your sweet noises intensify. He never expected fleshies to be so adorable – but then again, you’re not like the other squishies. Lord Megatron picked the best one. “Please,” you whisper. “This is torture.” “Aw, I thought you wanted to overload.” “You and I…” You swallow. “We both know damn well you’re teasing me. I need your spike, not… not this .”

He laughs. “I keep my promises, don’t worry about it.” He pulls you flush against him, legs over his hips. Bracing himself on one servo, he’s got an arm cautiously wrapped around your waist. “Comfortable? How do you rate your position on a scale from 1 to-” “Breakdown, I swear to fu-” “Got it. It’s hammer time.” He grins. You grip onto his digits and offline your optics. He pushes in. You suck in a sharp in-vent. He pauses.

“Go on,” you say after a moment. “I can take it. I guess I didn’t expect it to be so big.” “Big?” He blinks at you. “You’re the one taking Lord Megatron. He’s larger than me.” “Not his spike.” You chuckle. He looks up at the ceiling in wonder. “Wow.” “Wow indeed. Now please put that spike to good use.” Like a good soldier and seasoned interface partner, he follows your orders. Ridge by ridge, you take him, grip tightening and dentae gritting until he reaches your limit. He shudders. You’re clenching around him like a cold press, crushing his spike harder than any minicon valve. You seem on the verge of shutting down. “You okay?” “...yeah.” “Do you want me to stop?” “Don’t you dare.” “Got it.” His smile widens.

The pace is incredibly slow. Yeah, Knock Out likes having his circuits rearranged – and yeah, most vehicons he’s been with want to get railed into oblivion. But taking his time with you feels just as good. Charge is building along his array. He wants to tell you so many things – how you’re so beautiful holding onto him like he’s the center of your universe, whimpering and repeating his name listlessly – or how he wishes this could last forever, that he can forget the war when your arms are wrapped around his frame, no matter how small.

Your optics come back online and meet his. Wordlessly, you beckon him closer. He leans down, now bracing himself on his arm. Your servos find his face. “Have I ever told you how handsome you are?” you ask, nuzzling his cheekplate. It’s not the first time you’ve done so. But at this moment, either from mass displacement or the sight of you sprawled out before him (or both), his spark throbs in his chassis. His array is pulsating with charge. He presses his forehelm against yours. “Yeah. You always do.” “Good. Because I love you.” Your lips meet his. The charge explodes. Your valve clamps down on his spike. Sparks shoot through his sensors – his engine roars. The world stands still.

Then, he breaks the silence. “By…” his vox crackles with static. He recalibrates his vocalizer. “By Alchemist Prime…” there’s still a buzz to his words. “What was that?” “You tell me,” you answer shakily. Neither of you move for a while. Diagnostics report: Energon level: 87% He pulls out of you, earning a wince. You loosen your grip on his neck and fall back. His optics widen at the load of transfluid trickling out, valve still twitching. He feels equal parts pride and wonder something so small took his spike. Should he tell you about it? You appreciate greatly when he says what’s on his processor. Not everyone does. “Good job,” he tells you, petting your helm like the human he saw congratulating its furry companion. Your expression spells confusion. Then, you grin wider than he’s ever seen and pet him back. His engine rumbles in content. “I would die for you,” you declare without a hint of sarcasm in your vox. He laughs nervously. “Please don’t, Lord Megatron would kill me.” “Then I’d kill him first.” “But you’d already be dead.” “I’d come back as a ghost.” He laughs again, twice as nervous. “Anyway, was it… good?” “You blew my back out.” “I – what ?” “You rearranged my guts.” “Wait, are you about to offline-” “Human euphemisms.” “Oh.” “It means it was the best frag of my life.” “I… oh wow.” He allows you to pull him back on top. “You’re the best I could have asked for.” His cooling fans are blasting. “Um…” “You’re my favorite blueberry popsicle.” “Uh, thanks?” “I love it when you’re blue in the face.” More energon rushes to his cheeks.

“Oh, um – you too!” Frag - that didn’t sound smooth. He hasn’t been this bad since he was newly forged. “Raspberry and blueberry,” you press your helm against his. “My favorite mix.” You kiss him again, less desperately – finally satiated for the next cycle. Or at least a few groons. “Can you cuddle in this form?” Or…do you have to turn back?” He hits his chassis with pride. “Another groon won’t hurt me – I’ll do just fine..” “Aw hell yeah!” He lies down and you quickly take your place at his side, burying your face in the crook between his neck and his chassis. You let out a hum when his digits stroke your back. He can sense the minuscule hairs on your plating. They tickle.

A klik passes by, but you can’t seem to sit still. You push his arm away, readjust yourself, then pull it back in, only to start again a nanoklik later. “Everything ok?” You make a noise of frustration – so adorable it makes his spark ache.

“Give me a sec,” you mutter.

He watches as you get up to fetch your blanket and pillows. “Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I barely managed to clean up before coming over.” “Don’t matter.” You cover his side in them. “I just want to cuddle you.” He bites his glossa. You’re too sweet for your own good. Once comfortable, his servo comes back to stroke your skin. You shiver. “Are you cold? Do you want me to get the heating pad?” “No. You’re warm enough. It just… feels nice to be with you this way. I meant what I said. I do love you. Maybe not on Knock Out’s level – he’s known you before my great grandparents were even born.” He affectionately taps your helm. “I mean, yeah – but what does that have to do with us? Do you humans have a monogamous contract or something?” Your expression says it all. “Oh,” he drawls. “Uh – it doesn’t mean that you can’t be with us, it’s that-” “I’m Megatron’s first and foremost,” you say, looking away from him and straight at the wall. “I… yes. But I mean that-” “I’m together with everyone. I know that.” You turn your attention back to him. “And no, it doesn’t bother me. I simply want to give you the praise you deserve. And the energon. Man, you need that so badly.” Resting your helm atop his chassis, you flash him a warm smile. “I love you. Don’t you ever forget that.”

[carigm]

The “Teaser”, mlvn rooftop convo, and Lord of the Rings parallel…

This is gonna be a long post, so grab some snacks y’all.

First of all, the teaser the Duffers shared at this Netflix shareholders event was basically all BTS stuff, and according to someone that was there, we have mostly seen all of it. The actual clips from the show they showed were so short that most people missed it. However, over those short clips it seems they played a voiceover of part of the mlvn rooftop convo. Notice how the Suffer Sisters are literally incapable of sharing anything new, and the only audio they disclosed is from the ONE scene that’s been leaked to death, and even transcribed multiple times with the help of AI. In any case, Netflix did not share this teaser with the masses, and it’s unlikely they ever will. Stranger Things is not going to the Super Bowl this year (yes you heard that right) and the Tudum Event isn’t until May. Our only hope before that would be them releasing something on Will’s birthday, but whether in March or May, I believe we’ll be getting a proper teaser by then.

People that attended the event reported that El has a voiceover line where she goes “they don’t get to write the ending, we do” and apparently a voiceover Mike line where he goes “we’ll finish this together” (I’m not sure if this was paraphrased or not). Immediately, we all realized that these lines sound pretty close to what Mike is allegedly saying to her during the rooftop scene. Many people in the fandom have taken the time to transcribe that scene, some with AI and some without, and although some things could be wrong here and there, the general idea of it seems pretty clear. I’m attaching an AI reading of the scene here, so I can point out where I think his dialogue might be from…

Around the 1.43 mark, the AI picked up “enjoying it, together”, however I think this is where the “we’ll finish it, together” line comes into play. If anything, this shows AI isn’t 100% accurate, and it does call into question some of these previous lines 😂…I think it’s possible that after this speech from Mike about stories, fantasy endings and heroes, El tries to follow his advice and be positive, and maybe she delivers the “they don’t get to write our ending, we do” line back to him. It’s unfortunate because obviously we can’t see her face in the video, but I think it makes sense she would reply with that because right after it seems like he says “of, course…” and then proceeds to seemingly add that the Party can have a happy ending, without all the fantasy elements he mentioned before.

I find it very interesting that he’s choosing to speak to her with this storytelling analogy, which at first I believed to be a D&D analogy, but the more I think about it, the more I feel like he’s talking about an actual story. And then the lord of the rings parallel hit me, specifically with this scene. If you’re not aware, Finn Wolfhard has mentioned lotr twice now when talking about season 5, and I personally think it’s possible that Mike is using lord of the rings here as a reference to describe the hero’s journey and relate it to what the party has been through. Think about it, he’s trying to cheer El up, who has been stuck in that fuckass radio station for a year, who’s probably extremely tired of everything she has been dealing with for years, and he just wants to offer her some consolation so she can keep going and fighting. Does that sound familiar?

Well my friends, if it does, that’s because it is a direct parallel to Frodo and Sam from Lord of the Rings. I’ve always thought Byler were insanely samfrodo coded (funny enough the last S4 Byler scene is almost identical to this scene too), but it seems the Duffers are paralleling mlvn to them here. In lotr, Frodo bears the biggest burden of the story, as he follows his hero’s journey to Mordor to defeat evil. Along the way, ofc, he becomes increasingly weary and hopeless, and it is up to Sam (his best friend) to cheer him up and provide him with strength to keep him going. How does Sam do this? Interestingly enough, he encourages Frodo by describing all the beautiful things that will come AFTER they have won, what they and their friends will be able to enjoy when they get back home. Basically everything Mike appears to be saying to El in this scene, fantasizing about the end of the battle. To make the parallels even crazier, while on his hero’s journey, Frodo has to remain in hiding because there are multiple forces looking for him, and we know that El is basically hiding away from the government.

Another thing I want to point out is that in lotr (spoilers I guess 😭) good does win in the end, and the main characters get to return back home. However, Frodo is so changed by the journey and all the things he encountered that he simply cannot stay with his friends. Instead, he leaves and goes to the Undying Lands, where he finds peace. He doesn’t die, but he also cannot stay in Middle Earth. Him and Sam have a beautiful goodbye scene and then Sam is left with the literal book of stories Frodo started, and is told by Frodo to “finish it”.

Make of that what you will…

[kitkat13001]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞

⤷ eijirou kirishima x reader

⤷ friends to lovers, kiri implied to be taller than reader, inspired the song “look after you” by the fray

compassion is second nature to eijirou kirishima. he’s always willing to lend a helping hand, no protest and no questions asked. 

he’s the ‘bro’ friend, the big-brother of the group standing over you all like a shield. they don’t call him the sturdy hero for nothing. 

he’s saved your life plenty of times, common in your line of work. but most often the things kirishima saves you from aren’t as big as falling buildings or supervillains. 

he always carries an extra hoodie for you in case you get cold. he makes sure everyone drinks water on the weekend group hikes. he always, always offers to share his snacks and insists even when you refuse. 

he texts you to make sure you got home safe, even when he’s the one who drove or walked you. 

for god’s sake, this is the man that sprinted two blocks to a corner store to buy tweezers when you got a splinter one time a few years ago. 

you wonder sometimes how a heart as big as his even fits in his broad chest. 

every other weekend bakugou insists on dragging everyone out for a hike because he can’t catch up with you all over dinner like a normal person and needs to do something active. 

today’s hike had taken longer than you’d originally thought. bakugou got a little too ambitious with his destination, and then mina and denki had wandered off the trail, and then sero twisted his ankle chasing after them. 

it’s nighttime now, and everyone’s been dropped off. you’re the last stop, sitting in the passenger seat of eijirou’s car and wondering how long you can linger without it being weird. 

you sigh after a long moment of sitting in peaceful silence with the faint radio music, finally moving to get out of the car. 

“night, kiri,” you say in the voice of someone who really doesn’t want to say goodnight. 

he moves when you move, clambering out of the drivers seat with a little smile. “i’ll walk you up.”

you stop, meeting his big crimson eyes. “it’s a ten foot walk to the door.”

“yeah.”

“you could just watch me from here, y’know?”

he shrugs, coming around to your side of the car. “‘s no big deal.”

you can feel the warmth coming off his body from when he’s standing next to you. you’re staring up at him curiously, and he blinks down at you. 

“i can see your breath,” he chuckles, taking his scarf off and wrapping it around you loosely while you stand there, stunned. his hands linger on the fabric, warm on your shoulders as he beams down at you. 

“eiji, don’t you ever get tired of looking after everyone?” you ask after a minute, walking up to the door at his side. 

kirishima hums thoughtfully, thinking on it for a second. “i mean, maybe sometimes i guess? but not really, ‘cause i look after the people i care about. so it’s not really work for me, y’know?”

“but don’t you ever want someone to look after you?” you’re at the door now, but you don’t want to go inside just yet. 

“you do,” he replies with a little smile, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you blink, stunned by the revelation.

“you always check up on me. text me good morning and good night. make sure i rest when i’ve been working too hard. carpool front seat so i don’t have to drive alone in the night.” he’s ticking them off on his fingers, an indescribable fondness in his voice. “and besides,” he adds cheerfully, “seeing you happy always has me feeling brand-new.”

you stare up at him with big, soft eyes. “kirishima, i love you.”

he laughs bashfully, scratching at his neck. “yeah, man, i love you too.”

“no, eiji, like i love you.”

he looks at you, meeting your loving gaze. his cheeks darken, and he looks almost nervous. “you…you do?”

you don’t dignify him with a spoken answer. you try to put any words you might’ve strung together into the kiss you pull him in for, clutching at his jacket to bring him down. 

he almost gasps into your mouth, but after a moment he’s cradling your face in big, careful hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held. 

he’s grinning when you pull away, eyes like melting rubies. “i love you, too. but i think maybe you knew that already.”

dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/anitalenia — one hug from kirishima could fix all my problems. no further comments.

[onlyquinns]

COFFEE SHOP CONFESSIONS, q. hughes

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

content: sitting for a cup of coffee with quinn takes a turn when unspoken thoughts from years ago finally arise, angsty, quinn might be ooc, allusions to sex but no actual smut

rain patters harshly against the window panes of the little coffee shop quinn sits inside of, calloused fingers wrapped tenderly around a warm ceramic mug. his head is ducked low and his hair is pulled back into a black yankees cap—one that he had to steal back from jack during the devils's short visit to the city.

a memory from years ago comes to the front of his mind as he peers up at you sitting across from him; glimpses of long limbs tangled in his sheets, his hands and fingers pressed into your soft skin, your hair sprawled out beneath you, and the soft sound of gasps and moans.

he doesn’t know how the two of you have got to this point, gone from lovers and best friends to acquaintances who meet once or twice in a blue moon to ‘catch up,’ an excuse quinn makes up every time to see your face one more time before he thinks you’ll inevitably refuse to.

you glance up from your own mug and smile softly at quinn, and he tries to memorize every freckle and faded acne scar on your face, so desperate to recall the way you look in the case you go from acquaintances to strangers. your cheeks are far less rounded now than when you’d first met during orientation at umich, more defined now that you’re older and out of college, and quinn is so devastatingly aware of how sharper and more defined his own face is—how fast time goes by without you by his side even though to him it feels like an eternity.

“so,” you start softly, drawing quinn from his thoughts, “what’s up?” you say it so casually that quinn’s chest aches and he swallows harshly, his throat dry and burning.

“aren’t you sick of this?” he blurts, his green-blue eyes peering at his own reflection in his coffee mug. the distorted version of himself seems to mock him, glaring at him for trying to destroy something that could be good with someone the both of them need.

confusion splits across your face, soft smile turned unsure and brows pinched together—quinn grips his mug a little tighter to keep himself from smoothing the space between them over, a habit he’d developed during your first finals week in college.

“i don’t know what you mean,” you tell him, unsure smile now gone and a small frown pulling at your lips instead. you tilt your chin down toward your mug and stare blankly into the liquid inside, losing yourself in the dark contents. “what’s there to be sick of?”

anger bubbles in quinn’s chest, not at you—never at you—but at the situation he’s put himself in. “this,” he vaguely insists, freeing his mug from his rough fingers and instead taking hold of his cap and hair. “where we act like i’m not in love with you anymore, where we pretend everything is fine and ignore that at one point we knew every detail about one another. aren’t you sick of that?”

tears prickle in your eyes, blurring your vision slightly. quinn’s right; you were so tired of pretending with him, so exhausted from going about your daily life trying to rid yourself of every thought of him only to end up back in vancouver in a desperate act to see him again.

“yeah, i am,” you whimper, breaking quinn’s heart a fraction. “i’m really tired of acting like… like i don’t pretend every other person i’ve ever been with is you.”

your admission sends shock rippling through quinn’s body, stunning him momentarily. the little reflection of himself in his coffee mug ripples away, like a little spirit finished with what it intended to do before separating from the real world.

“then don’t,” he tells you, reaching toward you to grip your soft fingers between his. he runs his thumb in circles and letters over the backs of your knuckles, the action soothing for the both of you. “i want to be yours—if you’ll let me. i won’t mess things up this time; i won’t leave you.”

your fingers weakly grip his, trembling in his hold. your guys’ drinks are long cold and the rain outside has lightened, inviting the sun back through the clouds. light streaks across quinn’s eyes, wide and hopeful, and the growing sunlight highlights the specks of brown scattered through the blue.

you inhale deeply, the sound rattly from the unshed tears and emotions deep in your chest. “what if you do, though,” you breathe. “what if i wake up and one day you’re gone, realized i’m not worth it.” insecurity plagues your mind, ebbing its way into your features, into the way you look at quinn through watery lashes.

quinn’s heart sinks deeper with your words, regret filling his entire body. “i’m sorry for leaving you,” he says, inhaling deeply as the memory of his last morning in michigan with you several years ago comes to mind. he’d left you still asleep in his bed at his parents’ house, the sheets curled tightly to your chest and smelling so heavily like him you hadn’t noticed he’d left. “it was a stupid mistake. i didn’t realize that what i had back then—with you—was the best thing to have ever happened to me. i thought… i thought playing in the nhl was the most important thing to have ever happened to me, but i know now that it was actually meeting you—loving you, being loved by you. i’m sorry.”

tears stream down your cheeks as you sob in the quiet coffee shop, fingers tightly digging into quinn’s. the way he looks at you is so earnest you have no choice but to believe him, believe that if you were to pack up your life back home and haul it to canada that quinn wouldn’t abandon you like an old toy after a week.

“please,” quinn nearly begs as he squeezes your hand even tighter, knuckles whitening against yours. “i need you in every way possible, in every universe ever. we can work things out, here in vancouver—or anywhere. i’d drop anything, everything, for you. i promise—i swear.”

quinn’s throat bobs as he watches you intently, waiting for a response. you nod your head furiously, nose scrunched up as you choke on a sob. you cover your mouth with the back of your free hand, still nodding.

“okay,” you rasp against your hand, tears no longer streaming down your face. “i believe you. we can work this out together. i believe you.”

quinn ducks his head graciously, reaching across to cup your hand with both of his. his palms easily envelop yours, tightly wrapped around it as if you’ll take your words back and walk away from him forever.

“thank you,” he whispers, his lips nearly brushing the table. “thank you.”

all photos from pinterest

[beaconfeels]

@lucky-bishop said I could say they tagged me in a WIP whenever thing, so I am. I’ve been working on a lot of different things at once lately. One of these days at least one of them is bound to get done, right? Have a snippet from a shorter Steter fic:

Peter, surprisingly, doesn’t come through the window. He comes through Stiles’s bedroom door shortly after his last text.

“How’d you get in here?” Stiles asks. He’s tired enough that he has a moment of wondering if he somehow let Peter in and then forgot.

Peter holds up a keyring with a bunch of keys hanging off it. “You’re not the only one who gets their hands on keys,” he says.

“What?” Stiles hisses, trying to keep his voice low so he doesn’t disturb his dad. “How long have you had those?”

“Oh, a few years,” Peter says vaguely.

“A few years?”

“Yes,” Peter replies.

“Before we were friends,” Stiles says after some calculation.

“Oh Stiles, we’ve always been friends, haven’t we?”

“I think you’re forgetting about the times you tried to kill me!” Stiles whisper-shouts.

Peter actually looks affronted at that. “Name one time I tried to kill you.”

“That night at the school,” Stiles answers immediately.

Peter actually has the audacity to scoff. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, you just happened to be there. Sticking your little nose into everything, like you always do.”

He boops the end of Stiles’s nose when he says that last part, and Stiles’s mouth drops open. “You’re unbelievable.”

“What?” Peter asks, shrugging, “I’m simply telling the truth.”

“Sure. You never tried to kill me. Right.”

“Sweetheart, if I had wanted to kill you, I had plenty of chances, not the least of which was when I had you all to myself in that parking garage.” He grabs Stiles’s wrist in a light grip and moves it toward his own mouth. His blue eyes look straight at Stiles. “Remember?”

Stiles’s heartbeat goes crazy then. He can feel it thrumming beneath Peter’s fingers. It’s partly a fear response, partly something he’s not going to look at too hard right now. He jerks his wrist away, just like he did that night. “I remember.”

“And you don’t think I could have killed you if I’d wanted to?”

Stiles sighs in frustration. “You do realize this is an insane conversation, right? This is not normal. I’m considering taking back the friend thing.”

“Are you going to break up with Scott then? Because I seem to remember that he literally tried to kill you.”

“Jesus Christ, you’re giving me a headache.” He’s not even lying, his head is starting to hurt.

“Truce?” Peter asks. He actually looks apologetic, like maybe he’s worried Stiles is going to take away his friendship status.

“Fine,” Stiles says. After all, in this life he’s living, holding the past over each other’s heads would dissolve the pack in no time. They’ve only survived as long as they have because they’ve fought for each other, even with all the mistakes they’ve all made.

[oaksgrove]

Perfectly Imperfect

Pairing: Alex Keller x Insecure!Reader

Synopsis: When Alex Keller takes an interest in you, your insecurities make it hard to believe his intentions are genuine. As the walls you’ve built around your heart start to crumble, you realize love might be easier to accept than you thought.

Warning: Mentions of self-doubt and insecurity, fluff, supportive themes, slow-burn romance, mild emotional tension.

The whir of espresso machines and the faint clinking of mugs created a cocoon of warmth on the otherwise chilly day. You sat in the far corner by the window, your hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that had long gone lukewarm.

Your eyes darted to the door every few seconds, your heart doing an anxious somersault every time the bell chimed. Meeting Alex for coffee seemed innocent enough. He wasn’t intimidating in the traditional sense—his easy smile, laid-back attitude, and relentless sense of humor had a way of putting people at ease. But for you, Alex’s charm was the problem.

It had been weeks of him casually dropping by your office, finding excuses to talk to you after briefings, and—most shockingly—asking you out for coffee. You’d agreed, though the moment the words left your mouth, you questioned what on earth someone like Alex Keller could see in you.

Lost in thought, you almost missed the sound of the café door opening, but when the cold breeze hit your face, you glanced up. There he was, scanning the room until his eyes landed on you.

"Hey," he greeted as he approached, his voice warm and familiar. He was dressed casually in a leather jacket over a sweater, his sandy hair slightly tousled as though he’d just walked through a wind tunnel. He looked effortlessly handsome, of course.

"Hi," you managed to say, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

"Sorry I’m late," he said, sliding into the seat across from you. "Traffic was a nightmare."

You waved it off, giving him a small smile. "It’s fine. I wasn’t waiting long."

Alex tilted his head, studying you. His brows furrowed slightly, and his smile dimmed, just a bit. "You okay? You seem... quieter than usual."

"I’m fine, just... tired." you replied quickly, your voice softer than intended.

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. The real issue was the nagging voice in the back of your mind that kept telling you you weren’t enough.

Alex didn’t press, but his perceptive eyes lingered on you, and you could tell he wasn’t convinced. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in a way that somehow still felt relaxed. “Good. I’d hate to think you weren’t happy to see me.”

Despite your nerves, you let out a soft laugh. “I’m not unhappy to see you.”

“Good,” he said again, flashing you a grin. “Because I’ve been looking forward to this.”

To your surprise, Alex made it easy to settle into the conversation. He was warm and engaging, filling the space with stories that ranged from funny to downright ridiculous.

“So there I was,” he said, gesturing animatedly, “dangling from a helicopter, trying to hold onto this ‘perfect coffee maker’ my buddy swore by. He’d convinced the whole team it was worth the hassle. And do you know what happened when we landed?”

You shook your head, already smiling at the absurdity. “What?”

“The damn thing broke,” Alex said, throwing his hands up. “Completely useless. I risked my neck for nothing.”

You laughed, a genuine sound that caught even you by surprise. For a moment, your nerves melted away under the warmth of his presence.

“You think I’m making it up, don’t you?” Alex teased, leaning forward slightly.

“I think you’re exaggerating,” You laughed, covering your mouth with your hand. 

“Cross my heart,” he said with a grin. “You can ask anyone who was there.”

The corners of your mouth twitched, but your laugh faded quickly as you caught him looking at you—really looking at you.

“What?” you asked, your voice small.

“Nothing,” he said, his tone soft. “Just... it’s good to see you laugh.”

You felt a blush creep up your neck and quickly looked down, playing with your mug.

As the minutes turned into an hour, the tension in your chest began to ease. Alex had a way of drawing you out, his easy humor and genuine interest making it impossible to stay closed off.

When the date ended, Alex insisted on walking you home. You’d protested, saying it wasn’t necessary, but he waved you off.

“Humor me,” he said with a lopsided grin.

The evening air was cool, the city’s lights casting a soft glow over the streets as the two of you strolled. Alex talked easily, filling the quiet with lighthearted banter, but you couldn’t shake the nagging voice in your head, as you neared your apartment, the doubts you’d managed to push aside began to creep back in.

“Thanks for walking me back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

When you reached your building, you stopped at the entrance, turning to face him. “Why are you doing this?”

Alex blinked, caught off guard. “Doing what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “The coffee, the walk, everything. Why me?”

His expression softened, and he took a small step closer. “Why not you?”

Your throat tightened, and you felt a lump form as you struggled to find the words. “I just... I don’t know. You’re... you’re you. And I’m... me.”

Alex blinked, clearly thrown by your response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re charming, funny, smart, and so confident,” you said in a rush, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I’m none of those things. I don’t even know why you’re here.”

For a moment, Alex said nothing, his brows furrowing as he processed your words. Then, with deliberate care, he reached out and gently took your hands in his.

“Hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “you’re wrong. You’re smart—smarter than you give yourself credit for. You’re kind, you’re funny, and you’ve got this quiet strength that blows me away every time I’m around you.”

Your eyes began to sting, and you bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

“And as for why I’m here,” Alex said, his voice softening further, “it’s because I want to be. Because you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’d be an idiot not to want to spend time with you.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks despite your best efforts to hold them back, and Alex reached up to gently wipe them away.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he said. “Nobody is. But you’re perfect to me, and that’s what matters.”

You let out a shaky laugh, a mix of relief and disbelief washing over you. “How are you so good at this?”

He grinned, his boyish charm returning in full force. “CIA training, obviously.”

The laugh that bubbled up this time was genuine, and Alex’s smile widened at the sound.

“Can I come in?” he asked after a moment, his tone turning playful.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

Later, as the two of you sat on the couch with cups of tea in hand, Alex reached over and laced his fingers through yours.

“You’re incredible,” he continued, his voice soft but firm. “And if I have to spend the rest of my life convincing you of that, I will.”

“Thanks for tonight,” you said quietly, glancing at Alex.

He turned to you, his smile warm. “Anytime.”

As Alex leaned back, still holding your hand, he grinned. “Hope you know you’re stuck with me now.” 

The warmth in his voice and the steady way he held your gaze made your chest ache with a strange mix of fear and hope.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was undeniable. “I guess I can live with that.”

He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.“Good. Because I’m not letting you get rid of me.”

taglist:

@honestlymassivetrash

[dreaminguponlilypads]

BITE THE HAND PT. 2

AU: vampire!Simon “Ghost” Riley x human!reader

pt. 3

It started like any other night. The air outside was thick with tension, the kind of stillness that always preceded the worst storms. You sat on the edge of the couch, eyes locked on the ground, tapping your foot nervously against the hardwood floor. Simon had been unusually quiet all evening, distant in a way that sent a ripple of unease through your chest.

His presence had always been commanding, but tonight? Tonight, it was suffocating.

He stood near the window, staring out into the night, the soft hum of the city outside barely audible over the sound of your racing thoughts. You knew something was off. You always knew. But you were tired of asking, tired of feeling like you were the only one carrying the weight of whatever this was between you.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Simon, what’s going on?” Your voice broke through the silence, quiet but sharp.

He didn’t move, didn’t even look at you. “Nothing.”

You felt your frustration flare, a flame catching too quickly in your gut. “Don’t give me that,” you snapped, standing up. “I’ve been asking all night, and you won’t look at me, won’t talk to me. What the hell is going on?”

Simon turned toward you, and for the first time that night, his gaze met yours—cold, unreadable. His jaw clenched as if he was holding back something, but he didn’t speak.

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating, until it cracked.

“You’re shutting me out,” you finally said, your voice rising, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “And I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Simon. I can’t keep pretending like everything is fine when you’re pushing me away. We talked about this.”

His eyes hardened, a flash of irritation sparking behind the mask of indifference he always wore. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, his tone cold. “This—us—this is dangerous. You’re too close. I’m too close. You’re making this harder than it has to be.”

That stung. You took a step forward, not caring about the space between you anymore. “No, you are making it hard. You’re the one who keeps pulling away every time things start to feel real.”

His eyes flashed, a deep frustration crossing his features. “You think I want this? You think I want to keep you in this world?” His words were venomous now, sharp and raw. “You’re human, and this isn’t a game. You want to keep risking your life just because you think you can handle it?”

You flinched, the words hitting harder than you expected. “I’m not stupid, Simon,” you said, voice trembling but firm. “But I’m not going to walk away just because it’s dangerous. If you’re so scared of me getting hurt, maybe you shouldn’t have let me this close in the first place.”

There was a long pause, one that stretched until you were certain the air itself had stopped breathing. His dark eyes scanned you—cold, calculating—before he took a slow step forward. His presence seemed to consume the space between you, his towering frame almost suffocating.

“I told you from the start,” he said in a low growl, voice rough with frustration. “This was never going t’be easy. You knew the risks, and now you’re actin’ like this wasn’t your choice.”

“You think this is my fault?” The anger surged in your chest like wildfire. “I didn’t ask for you to be a fucking vampire, Simon. I didn’t ask for this life. But I’m here, and I’m not leaving.”

The words hung in the air between you, raw and brutal, and for a moment, you both just stood there, staring at each other, chest rising and falling, breaths harsh.

“I never asked you t’stay,” he said finally, his voice dangerously calm. But you could hear the undercurrent of something much darker in his words, something that threatened to break free. “I never wanted you to get tangled up in this, but you keep throwing yourself back into it, thinking you’re invincible.”

A bitter laugh escaped you. “Maybe I’m not invincible. Maybe I just—maybe I just want to be with you. But you make it impossible. You keep pushing me away, Simon. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being with someone who’s afraid to let me in.”

His eyes narrowed, and he took another step toward you. The tension between you was unbearable, like something was about to snap.

“‘M not afraid,” he snapped, his voice cold but filled with an edge you hadn’t heard before. “I’m trying to protect you. But you don’t see it that way, do you?”

The anger in your chest flared again, stronger this time. “Don’t act like this is just about protection. This is about you keeping your distance, making sure I never get close enough to hurt you. Well, guess what, Simon? You’re hurting me right now.”

The silence between you stretched long enough that you could feel your heart beating faster, but neither of you made a move to close the gap.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he finally said, his voice so low you could barely hear it. But the words hung in the air like a confession, raw and unspoken.

You swallowed, trying to get your bearings, but the weight of everything was making it hard to breathe. “Then stop doing it,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

Simon didn’t answer, and for a long time, you both stood there, your hearts pounding in the deafening silence.

And that’s when it all broke. The dam you’d been trying to hold together cracked, and before you knew it, you were on him. You couldn’t stop the words, couldn’t stop the anger and fear that were finally bursting free.

“This—us—it’s too dangerous, Simon. I can’t keep living like this. One day, you’re going to lose control, and I’m going to be the one who pays for it. You’re going to kill me, and then what? What the hell happens then?”

Simon’s face went stone-cold, but you saw the guilt flicker in his eyes for a brief moment. It was gone almost as quickly as it came, replaced by that icy mask he wore so effortlessly. He took a step back, his posture stiff. “You don’t get it,” he muttered. “It’s not about control. It’s ‘bout me. About what I am.”

“I don’t care what you are!” you shouted, your voice breaking with emotion. “I don’t care what you’ve done, what you could do. I care about you. But I can’t keep putting my life in your hands, Simon. I can’t keep gambling with my life every time I’m near you.”

The words hit harder than anything you’d said before. You didn’t take them back. But as Simon’s gaze softened for a split second, you could see the pain in his eyes—the same pain you felt.

And that was the last straw.

[cherryredz]

Skating on Thin Ice

one-shot

Summary: After weeks of exchanging lighthearted texts and meeting up for casual coffee dates, Harry decides to take you on your first official date. Wanting to do something fun and a bit nostalgic, he suggests ice skating at a nearby outdoor rink that’s been set up for the winter. You have never skated before and hesitate at first. But in the end you agree, intrigued by the idea of trying something new with him.

Warnings: none

_______________________________________________

It was a crisp winter evening, the kind that made the world feel still and quiet, save for the soft sound of skates carving through ice. Harry stood beside the outdoor rink, waiting for you to arrive. The twinkling lights around the rink shimmered, casting a warm glow over everything. When he spotted you walking toward him, your breath visible in the cold air, he smiled.

"Hey," you greeted, your cheeks flushed from the cold, your eyes bright with excitement and nervousness. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this."

Harry grinned, stepping forward to meet you. "I promise it’s going to be fun. No pressure, we’re here to enjoy the night." He held out a hand, helping you with your skates. "Let’s get these on first."

"I’m already having second thoughts," you laughed, pulling the laces tight around your boots. "I’ve never been on ice before. What if I fall?"

"You won’t fall," Harry reassured you, tying your skate laces with an expert hand. "Well, you might... but I’ll be there to catch you."

You raised an eyebrow, an amused smile playing on your lips. "You’re so confident, I’m starting to feel like I might just embarrass myself."

"No chance." Harry finished with the skates, standing up and offering you a hand. "Come on, I’ll show you how it’s done."

You stepped onto the ice together, and you immediately clutched the edge of the rink. Harry, laughing softly, stayed by your side, one hand resting on your back to steady you.

"Okay, this is definitely harder than it looks," you muttered, trying to shift your weight but feeling unsteady.

"Take your time," Harry said gently. "Just shift your weight, one foot at a time."

You hesitated, glancing at Harry. "I feel like a baby deer on skates."

Harry chuckled. "We all start somewhere. I’m not exactly a pro either." He nudged you playfully. "Just don’t fall into me."

"I’ll try not to," you teased, trying to keep your balance. "I feel like I’m going to wipe out any second."

Harry steadied you once more, a warm smile on his face. "You’re doing great. I’ll be right here."

As you slowly circled the rink together, your conversation shifted to more personal topics. "So," you started, your voice light, "you’re always so calm and collected. How do you do it?"

Harry shrugged, gliding along smoothly beside you. "It’s just easier to keep it together when the world’s watching. But sometimes, it gets... tiring, you know? People expect you to always be happy, always on."

You nodded, your thoughts drifting to your own insecurities. "I get that. I guess I try to keep a brave face too, but there’s always this pressure, this feeling like I’m never enough."

Harry glanced at you, his expression softening. "You don’t have to feel like that, Y/N. I mean, you’re here, with me, right now. And that’s enough."

You smiled, the warmth of his words melting some of your nerves. "Thanks, Harry. I... I think I needed to hear that."

You continued skating, Harry occasionally giving you pointers, laughing at the little stumbles you both made. The ice became more familiar, and your confidence began to grow.

"You’re getting better," Harry commented, slowing down beside you as you gained more control. "Look at you go."

You grinned, feeling proud of yourself. "I guess I’m not so bad after all."

You skated in silence for a moment, both of you enjoying the peacefulness of the rink. The cold air was refreshing, and the twinkling lights above you gave the night an almost magical quality.

"I think I could get used to this," you said softly, your hand brushing against his. You glanced up at him, your breath coming in soft puffs. "Thanks for pushing me to try something new."

Harry stopped skating for a moment, turning to face you. "I’m glad you did. It’s fun, right?"

You nodded, your heart racing a little faster than it had been before. "Yeah, it is." You looked into his eyes, the connection between you growing stronger by the second. The moments of awkwardness had turned into something more—something real.

Harry, who had been trying to keep his composure, suddenly felt a shift. The nervousness he’d felt at the beginning of the night had turned into something far more tender. He stepped closer, his voice quieter now. "Y/N…"

Before he could say anything else, you took a small step closer as well, the gap between you closing. Your faces were inches apart, the warmth of your bodies contrasting with the chill in the air. Your heart pounded, and Harry’s breath was shallow. You paused for a moment, and in the next breath, Harry leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, unexpected kiss.

It was gentle, tentative at first, but when you kissed him back, all the hesitation melted away. You pulled back slightly, your faces still close, eyes meeting in the glow of the lights. Your lips were warm against his, and the spark between you was undeniable.

"That was..." you breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," Harry replied, his voice just as soft. "Perfect."

You lingered there for a moment, basking in the magic of the moment before Harry smiled and extended his hand. "Shall we go get some cocoa? I’m freezing."

"That sounds amazing," you said, grinning. "Lead the way."

You walked off the ice together, the sound of your laughter echoing in the crisp winter air. Harry pulled you close, and you shared a quiet moment as you headed for the warmth of the car, the ice rink behind you already becoming a cherished memory.

As you parted ways later that night, Harry paused before walking off into the night, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "This is just the beginning, Y/N."

You smiled, your heart still racing, as you watched him go. "I’m looking forward to it."

_______________________________________________

This is the first ever time I'm writing something here, hope you like it! Let me know what you think :))

p.s. English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes.

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝟑𝐊 𝐕-𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

welcome to the table of contents for my three-thousand followers celebration !!!

i’m amazed that we’ve reached this milestone, and so quickly at that! in under three months there were one thousand more of y'all !!! in that short period, i did succeed in staying active on tumblr and interacting with many of you—i got so many requests that i’m STILL working my way through, i’ve chatted to some of you through my inbox, and dm’s or replies, and i will forever be grateful for the endless support, laughs, and encouragement y’all have offered me.  sending love to my moots: ilysm. thank you for any bit of chatting you’ve had with me—i really do cherish every one of you, no matter how small or large our interaction has been. extremely happy to call you my moots < 3. @biancathecool @barnestatic @ashiekins @saintslewis @lorarri @ham1lton @loomiscorpse @vetteltea @hookhausenschips @shurisasthmaticgf @mauvecherie-writes @omgsuperstarg @justaf1girl @emjayewrites (i'm sorry if i've forgotten someone, i love you dearly, i promise x) and, of course, a huge ily & tysm to the members of the taglists! i would tag you here but there are too many of you (pls i love y'all down < 3) and it would break the post :)

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[stellewriites]

Part Four - John Price x reader

Masterlist

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife's wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, angst

The pair of you stayed quiet in the taxi and then on the short walk to your hotel room. John broke the silence finally when the door closed behind you and you were faced with the double bed and your bags, presumably dealt with by John’s family earlier in the evening when they found out you’d not had chance to stop at the hotel beforehand. You’d wondered where Richard had disappeared to for half the evening.

“Thank you,” John said heartfelt, ducking his chin to meet your eyes. “For coming here, being there for me and—“

“And for not being a raging bigot?” You blurted out, biting your cheek immediately after. You looked up at John’s shocked silence and backtracked. “I’m sorry, that was blunt and- <em>rude</em>. I got pulled aside, figured it out from what they were saying.” You winced, and rubbed at your forehead when a headache made itself known.

“Where they saying anything good?” John asked calmly, jokingly even.

You sighed. “Honestly I think I should be commended for my patience with them but then you’d need about a hundred more accolades than me, I’d assume,” you said tiredly.

“It’s just small town bullshit. Used to bother me, but I’ve found people since that don’t care.”

“Mm. And just one more day of it, at least?” You asked rhetorically.

“Made all the more easy with you here,” he soothed.

You smiled thinly, his words causing an ache, before heaving a heavy sigh and rubbing at your tense shoulders and neck. “I’m tired, I need some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, ‘course.” He nodded and moved to give you space to reach for your bag. He left you to it in the bathroom and once the door was closed you let your face crumple just a little and your shoulders sag. What a mess, and he likely thought you were mad at him now for not telling you about it, leaving you in the dark with his family when that wasn’t the case at all.

You opened the door again and caught him with his shirt halfway unbuttoned.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered as he continued to get undressed. “Uhm, I just wanted to say that I understand why you didn’t tell me, when we first met. I mean given how everyone was there and you didn’t know me, not that you seem worried that I was upset about it, but I’m not. Just to confirm.”

Christ, dig yourself deeper.

John huffed a soft laugh and nodded. “Good to know, Sunshine.”

You nodded and closed the door again, leaving him to continue getting changed while you did the same, washing your face clean and brushing your teeth and feeling ten times lighter.

The ache you felt when you saw him with Charlotte hadn’t gone away, but you could put that on the back burner.

When you stepped back through, a little more hesitantly this time in case he was slow to change, you smiled when you saw he’d purposely left his sleep shirt off. His surgery scars were hardly visible beneath his dark chest hair and he’d clearly taken care of them to ease the healing and provide as much stretch in the skin and across his chest for movement.

You stayed quiet however and didn’t draw attention to his decision; instead you smiled at him a little less forced and joined him in bed.

“You better not snore,” you warned as you turned onto your side away from him, snuggling down into the blankets. You wanted him to know nothing had changed since you’d found out, but you needed to get a hold of your feelings now before you got hurt even worse. The last thing you wanted was to act cold to him, but if you saw his tired eyes crinkle in a fond smile from across a shared pillow you might do something drastic like confess your feelings or suck his cock ‘til your jaw went numb.

You clenched your thighs and shuffled to get comfortable as you felt the mattress dip behind you. It was time to sleep, not time to think about your kiss and the rumbling moan he’d let slip, mouth to mouth with a direct line to your—

“Good night!” You said overly chirpily before yanking the covers up to your hot cheeks, not daring to look over your shoulder.

“G’night, Sunshine,” you heard him say quietly before he switched off the lamp on the bedside table.

——

The celebrations were continued the next day of course. Though this time it was for their closest friends and family only, John had assured you when you’d asked if the crowd was going to be as big as it had been the night before.

Charlotte’s family had wanted to give the couple one last send off before their honeymoon, which came in the form of a garden party in the afternoon.

“Need to give the guests enough time to recover from their hangovers, save face,” John had joked.

“It’ll be hair of the dog, more like,” you’d snorted.

You and John had woken up early enough to spend the free morning together, deciding to grab breakfast nearby before heading into the viper’s nest again.

You spent the time waiting for your orders to arrive convincing yourself you could get over John once you were back home and able to gain a bit of space – and maybe a distraction. You just needed to get it together, to not fuck up the great friendship you’d made with John over the next twelve hours. Easy.

Never mind the few minutes you’d spent in the middle of the night looking over at his side of the bed, tracing the outline of his shoulders in the dark with your eyes. You’d yearned to reach out and touch, to huddle close for warmth and comfort and to breathe in a lungful of his scent, but you’d refrained. You’d jumped out of bed in the morning when you heard the shower going and took the chance to breathe while you were alone.

You’d waited your turn to tidy up and get ready, saying a quiet hello when you passed each other and doing your best to act like you weren’t gagging for his touch. It was the least you could to to calm yourself in the cold shower until you were able to make eye contact and hold his hand to the nearby café without sweating.

John however was struggling not to do something stupid while sat opposite you across the little café table, his eyes glued to your form, exactly where they’d been glued since you’d first stepped out in your cute sundress.

“Figured there was no point in bringing extra clothes just so I could get changed after brekkie, so I put it on now,” you’d said that morning. “Might’ve gotten away with keeping my pyjamas on if we were eating at the hotel but I wouldn’t want to give your old neighbours anything else to gossip about if they saw us.”

You’d winked playfully and John had swallowed his tongue, nodding like a bobblehead when the words stayed stuck.

And now, with your elbows leant on the table as you tapped away on your phone with both hands, your arms pushed at either side of your chest and made John’s life harder as your cleavagee became so distracting that he’d burnt his tongue and choked on his coffee, twice. He’d managed to swallow back his hiss of pain but felt his cheeks flush red when he realised how ridiculous he was acting.

He was grateful that you’d not noticed his staring and even more so when the waiter brought over your orders with a knowing smirk, grateful to have food to concentrate on and for you to have a reason to move your arms and give your tits a rest from driving him crazy.

Breakfast together was otherwise uneventful, conversation easy as always, and once you’d finished your own strong coffee, the pair of you made you way over to Charlotte and Tom’s new home for their ‘intimate garden party’.

Again you wondered why the pair of you had managed to get invited, but the image of John and Charlotte laughing in the low light the evening before answered that question for you. Whether she was still interested like John or not, it was clear their history together meant something to Charlotte and would continue to do so.

With your mood already on edge, it didn’t take much from the other guests to set you off, though with considerably less alcohol served at brunch, both they and you were more subtle with the intrusive questions and returned biting answers.

“Look at you John, doing well since it all went downhill with Charlotte then? Found someone else that likes you for… you?” An old classmate asked as she leant into her husbands snickering side.

“What’s not to like?” You asked bluntly, staring her down until she cleared her throat and looked awkwardly to her partner. “Oh, I see. Jealous some of us didn’t have to settle,” you hummed knowingly as you looked her partner up and down. You’d have felt bad any other day, not one to judge quickly, but it turned out John was a sore spot for your usually light temper and your patience wore thin at his expense. Ignoring her offended scoff, you visibly brightened as trays of food began to be set out on a nearby table. “Oh John, look. They finally brought out the snacks.”

“What are we waiting for then?” He encouraged with a teasing nudge and the pair of you walked away from his old classmate without a further word.

You continued your sarcastic and caustic approach to the other guests for the next hour, only easing up politely if John didn’t immediately stiffen at the sight or sound of them.

Maybe John wasn’t yours, but you still felt a duty to be protective of him, as a friend and his current fake girlfriend. No one else seemed to step in when given the chance, and your role meant you could be as catty as you wanted without raising suspicion. So you took advantage and let out your frustration.

John couldn’t have complained, happy enough to watch you; the sharp smile you sent to the prying guests so different to the soft one you’d share with him a moment later. He was happy to see someone stand up for him without fail and brag about him as if the last six years hadn’t been a complete waste.

Even if you’d gotten a little creative with your bragging as the party went on.

“We were visiting Scarborough for the day,” you said to his aunt and two other older ladies that had been sucked in to your stories. You’d started lying halfway through the gathering just to see if anyone would call you out, to see just how far you could go that they’d still believe you. It had been tricky keeping his face straight as he listened but you were clearly having fun with it, so he wasn’t going to stop you, especially when it painted him in a flattering light. Most of the time. “We were walking along the cliff edge when we heard a shout from up ahead, and John being John had to go investigate.”

The ladies cooed.

“Someone had fallen over the wall trying to take a photo of the dolphins,” you said dramatically, wide eyed and pausing to let your small audience gasp. “John didn’t even hesitate to jump in himself to help. Think he shaved ten years off of my life that day,” you said and lightly slapped his chest with the back of your hand.

“Couldn’t let the bloke drown,” John said humbly.

“The pair of you were left bobbing in the bloody water until they could fish you out!” You laughed, only encouraged when his aunt laughed along. John shook his head at you with a hidden smile, this one teasing him more than anything. “You were freezing by time they got you back on land.”

“What were you thinking?” His aunt asked with worry.

“Didn’t have time to think of how I was getting back up, did I?” He asked you with a fake pout.

You squeezed his cheeks and cooed. “You were a hero in my eyes, resemblance to a wet cat or not,” you snickered.

John felt his chest ache with the idea of having this with you all the time; not just for his family and Charlotte’s benefit, not just for a long weekend.

Christ, when he thought back to how much he’d been enjoying his time away from work this last month with you, how easy it was to push the important things aside for you, to prioritise the fun stuff or just the simple domestic things that made your life a little easier… He felt a pang of guilt that he wasn’t able to do that sooner for Charlotte, not because he wanted it with her, but because he’d put her through years or waiting for it to never come. It wasn’t her, and it wasn’t anything you’d done either.

It was simply that he’d finally been able to do it, years too late and yet just in time.

And thinking of Charlotte moving on with Tom, finally getting what she deserved; the attention, the love, and the possible family. None of that brought hurt with it like it would have when he first received the invitation. It didn’t bring jealousy or seething regret, just happiness for his ex-wife and her new life. A life he’d have never fitted into.

But this one you were making, fabricating? He could gladly settle in and make home there. You made things easy in a way he couldn’t fathom.

But telling you this seemed impossible.

How could he tell you he was no longer mourning his past life, instead looking towards a brighter future now that he’d come to terms with how he and Charlotte weren’t meant to be. Seeing her face to face had been the splash of ice cold water needed for him to see clearly. And maybe you and him weren’t meant to be either, but god did he just want to try for the first time in years.

He swallowed thickly as you brought your story to an end, rubbing his arm and looking at him too adoringly, it felt undeserved.

“I’m not the one that saved that baby rabbit though, am I?” he said, starting his own story. Though this one was real, and something you’d mentioned to him once in passing, something he knew you’d never have expected him to remember. “Found it in your garden injured so you nursed it back to health for a week, took time off work to do it even, and then let it go in the nearby park.”

“You remember that?” you asked, disbelief written clear as day over your face. You stared at him without blinking, a smile wanting to pull at your lips.

“‘Course I do,” he said simply. “Remember everything you tell me.”

You let the smile break then, ducking your head bashfully and leaning heavily into his arm. He leant in to kiss the crown of your head, glad that his impulses only helped to sell the lie.

“I’m going to go grab a snack,” you said and cleared your throat. You tried to avoid John’s eyes but they flickered up without permission, a magnet to his own. “I’ll get you your favourites,” you promised.

“Thanks, Sunshine,” he said softly.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you got to the canapés table. You needed to reign it in, stop getting sucked in by blue eyes and rich voice.

“Never bloody filling enough,” you outwardly complained as you piled the snacks high on your plate. “Smaller than baby bites,” you huffed under your breath as you picked up a cube of cheese and ate it as you went along.

You heard a small laugh and turned to your right, eyes widening when you saw Shirl, John’s mum.

“They are quite silly in practice,” she admitted, gesturing to the small portions. She looked over her shoulder. “Though they look very nice plated like this.”

You snorted and moved to join her further up the table.

“Don’t tell anyone but we’re on our third plate,” you stage whispered, hooking a thumb back at John.

Shirley smiled indulgently. “Rich is on his third serving by himself. I wouldn’t worry.”

You laughed and looked back at John’s dad as he stood with John, slapping his son’s shoulder and nodding along as he spoke.

“You’re lovely together,” Shirley suddenly said. “I wasn’t sure at first. But you both seem good for one another, or at least you seem good for him.”

You watched her for a moment, how her gaze fluttered over the crowd as she sipped at her drink. Hair of the dog for Shirl too it seemed.

“Thank you.” You smiled genuinely when she looked at you out of the corner of her eye. “Lizzy not attending?”

Shirley sighed, happy for the topic change. She leant close and kept her gaze shrewd for any listening ears. “Too hung over to even get out of bed. God knows what people will think tomorrow.”

“Oh I simply couldn’t imagine,” you simpered along with a smirk.

——

“Quite the woman you’ve managed to catch for yourself,” Richard said as he came to stand by his son’s side.

“Yeah, she’s great,” John said as he watched you. He shifted with the weight of his father’s palm slapping his shoulder.

“‘Great’ he says,” his dad huffed with humour. “She’s a keeper, John.”

John shifted uneasily and nodded. Suddenly the weight of the lie settled heavily and uncomfortably over him, more prevalent now than all weekend and it dried his throat. He checked his watch and cleared his throat.

“Think we’ll need to be off soon,” he said. “To beat the traffic and all that.”

“You’ll be wanting a good night’s sleep for work tomorrow, I assume,” his dad agreed. “It was nice seeing you, son.”

John looked to his dad and took a deep breath. He spoke as he shook his dads hand tightly. “You too, dad.”

——

You turned at the tap on your arm and smiled when John was at your side once more.

“Got you the last of the little sausage rolls,” you said cheerily and he kissed your temple in thanks.

“We’ve got to get going, didn’t realise the time,” John said apologetically and turned to his mum with a close lipped smile.

“Oh, shame,” she hummed. She put her drink on the table and pulled him in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t leave it so long between visits next time. I’d like to see her again some time soon.”

She nodded to you over his shoulder and John swallowed past the guilt for a second time.

“I promise,” he lied.

“Come on, let’s scoff these as we say a quick good bye to everyone, John,” you suggested and let him lead you around the guests.

By time the pair of you got to Charlotte and Tom you’d finished your plate, but you were remiss for not having anything in your hands to keep them busy. Instead you had to try and keep them still as you watched with a little anxiety as John shook Tom’s hand and gave Charlotte a hug, wishing them well with what you could almost believe was a real smile on his face if you didn’t know better.

“It was great catching up, Lottie,” John said as he hooked his arm back around your waist. “Lovely party.”

“I’m so glad you both came,” Charlotte said, looking between the pair of you.

“Thanks for inviting us,” you added.

John didn’t linger; with a wave, he led you away and you felt him squeeze your hip as if to comfort himself.

With one last goodbye to his family, including Lizzy who had finally managed to fight past her hangover to turn up fashionably late, you climbed into his car with your bags in the boot.

You were uncharacteristically silent for the first part of the drive and it had the journey feeling a little melancholic, something John picked up on immediately.

His eyes cut across to you gazing out of the window, your hands folded in your lap, legs turned towards the door. His lips pursed at the shut off body language and he switched on the radio, skipping stations until he found an old rock song. Feeling his lips twitch he turned it up with another scant look your way to gauge your reaction and started singing along out of tune.

Your eyebrows rose at the sudden burst from his speakers and the sound of his scratchy singing voice, and you bit back a surprised smile as you turned to watch him. You snorted but joined in as soon as it hit the more familiar chorus, falling into his contagious spirit easily and drumming your hands on the dashboard when the heavy drum solo hit.

You couldn’t help but laugh when John took the chance at a red light to play the air guitar, head banging in time and biting his lip in concentration as if actually playing the tricky chords. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness however that all of this was temporary; coming to an end as soon as you reached home in a few hours.

You turned your sad eyes down and played the air keyboard dramatically to keep his suspicion waylaid; stating the instrument was your specialty when John commented on your questionable finger technique.

——

When he finally pulled up in front of your house several hours and a few stops later, you both sat there and looked at your front door in silence without moving.

He saw you fiddle with the strap of your handbag nervously, picking and scratching with your thumb nail.

He cleared his throat softly before breaking the silence. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You took a moment before giving him a weak smile. “Just know how shit it is to watch someone you care about be in love with someone else,” you settled on with a shrug. You felt pathetic about your month-old crush, especially in comparison to the hurt John was guaranteed to have been feeling at that moment.

He frowned and nodded slowly, trying to piece together what you may have meant. He opened his mouth, wanting to tell you that he didn’t feel that way about Charlotte anymore. That he’d realised he was over her this weekend while with you; but he hesitated, closed his mouth with a clack. Because this was just a favour to you wasn’t it? There were no real feelings on your end, right? It’d be wrong of him to put that on you now after the emotional exhaustion of lying to his family and supporting him through it. Selfish of him even.

But what did you mean you knew how it felt?

You watched him struggle for a moment and felt your heart ache when he said nothing; entirely unsurprised, and yet knowing he didn’t feel the same didn’t change how much it hurt to have it confirmed.

“Thanks for inviting me, John,” you said as sweet as you could manage. “I had a really good time.”

“Despite my family’s best efforts,” he joked weakly.

You rolled your eyes playfully. In a moment of weakness you reached out for his hand and squeezed it where it rested on his thigh.

“You know, I’m going to miss hanging out, just me and you,” you admitted, regretting it when John’s eyes turned sad. You spoke before he could have to chance to share false platitudes with you that maybe you’ll stay in touch; this was a favour, no more no less. You’d completed your end, there was no reason to drag out the inevitable, not when he didn’t need the fake dates as ‘proof’ anymore. “You’re a great guy, she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

He blinked and in a flash you were out of the car, door slamming with finality behind you as you jogged across the clear road.

Seeing you slip through his fingers in real time brought that feeling of an empty pit back in his stomach, but this time it wasn’t regret for something he couldn’t change or yearning for someone already out of reach.

“Chris’sake, I’m a grown fucking man,” he cursed himself out as he shouldered his way out of the car. He owed you the effort of trying at least.

John called after you, a shout of your name he didn’t often use, and you turned in surprise before you opened your front door. He saw the glassy tint to your eyes and felt his heart clench. Without thinking he blurted out the first thing that came to mind that might stop you for just a moment longer, “I still owe you the money we agreed on.” Your expression shuttered, shoulders stiffening, and he rounded his car quickly, needing to be closer with no barriers. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I meant to say, love. Wait.”

You stayed silent as you watched him on the other side of the dead road.

He paused to gather his racing thoughts.

“I don’t love my ex-wife anymore, or not how I did. Haven’t for a while I think, just loved the idea of her, the memory of what we had, the familiarity of it.” He swallowed thickly. “Think I loved fucking wallowing because I was used to it, ‘nd it was easier than admitting I’d been wrong and putting myself out there again to get hurt a second time ‘round.”

He checked the road before making his way closer as you wrapped your arms around yourself, tight and self-comforting.

“But these last couple of days… This last month; Sunshine, I got closure I didn’t know I needed but more than that I realised I want more than what I’ve been letting myself have. I want you.”

“John,” you finally spoke hoarsely. You shook your head.

“The time we’ve spent together recently… They’ve been some of the best days I’ve had in a long time.” He stepped forward and reached for your hands but you kept them folded away. “I want to feel that way again, every day that I can, with you.”

“I saw the way you looked at her,” you said gently, as if breaking to him that he still loved Charlotte. “You were laughing together at the end of the reception like it was your wedding.”

John huffed in disbelief. The fucking irony.

“Yeah because she told me how lucky I was to have a firecracker like you by my side,” he said with a laugh. “Not because I was trying to get her back. She’s pregnant, Sunshine, that ship has sailed.”

You felt your heart drop when realisation set in. “So I’m a consolation prize.”

“No,” he denied vehemently, eyes wide and horrified. “No, that’s not what I meant, bloody hell.”

He wiped a hand over his beard roughly, feeling you drift away word by word. He was fucking this up.

“Seeing her like that,” he started carefully. “I understand now that I didn’t want her back in the first place, not really.” At your doubtful look he continued on. “I don’t feel any jealousy or regret and not being the one starting a family with her; I just want to be happy like she is. And, Sunshine, it’s you that makes me happy like that.”

You looked at him with watery eyes, hope glistening in his own as his hand hovered by your hip.

You were quiet for a moment as you gathered your thoughts. John had flipped everything you’d felt, everything you’d thought you’d known about the last few days on its head and now you were stuck outside your house in the cold as the sun set, his confession heavy and waiting.

You felt cornered. It didn’t feel genuine, you still thought he was doing this out of some delayed sense of desperation and rejection. Clinging onto the first available woman after seeing Charlotte move on completely.

You liked John, a lot, and at any other time you’d have likely been jumping for joy hearing him say all of this. But you thought you knew him pretty well by now, and you weren’t going to make yourself unhappy by being second choice to help ease his bruised ego.

“I’m not looking for anything right now, John. Sworn off dating, remember?” You reminded him of your first conversation in that café, something that felt so long ago.

John became quiet for a moment, considering your soft rejection and trying to come to terms with it. He nodded and took a step back, his hand dropped back to his side.

“If you do start looking again, you’ve got my number,” he offered softly.

Your breath hitched and you nodded. You looked away and wiped at your face roughly when a tear fell. In a split decision you leant up and kissed his cheek before turning back and closing the door behind you.

did a little moodboard for this fic when i was stuck,, kept reader off it, the people in it are optional oc representation

[stollengoods]

The Longer the Wait, The Sweeter the Kisses

Requested Nam-gyu Fluff~

Warnings: Cursing, slight smut but not much (they don’t go all the way), mentions of drug use, overdose, and recovery.

Summary: Your friend Mi-na is tired of you third wheeling her and Thanos so she has him set you up on a date with his friend Nam-gyu. Surprisingly you and Nam-gyu really hit it off. So much so you invite him to your place, but what happens when you guys start making out/touching each other and you inform him that you won’t go all the way ?

P.S. This one’s a bit long… I apologize I got carried away haha

————

Thanos and Mi-na were cuddling on the couch while you were sitting in the arm chair beside them. He booped her nose with a blue colored finger nail, “You’re so cute.”

She giggled touching her forehead to his, “You’re so handsome.”

“And I so want to kill myself right now.” You murmured, scrolling through your phone.

In the background you saw Mi-na’s head turn towards you. “I told you it was just gonna be Thanos and I this weekend. You’re the one who invited yourself, remember ?”

You scrolled mindlessly on Instagram, “Yeah, but I didn’t think you guys would be like this.”

“It’s called being in a relationship.” She remarked and you snorted, “Gosh, thats what I have to look forward to ?”

“I used to think that way too until I met my soul mate.” You heard their lips smacking and immediately felt sick.

“Ewww, if I ever get like that shoot me. Please.”

Thanos chuckled and your friend giggled rolling her eyes, “When are you going to get a boyfriend y/n ? You’re old enough to drink why don’t you go to the bar and find one, you’ll get one asap.”

“Yeah… there are several reasons why I would never do that, plus I think what you’re describing is a hook up not a boyfriend.”

She huffed, “Well maybe you need a hookup, you’re like always a negative nancy.”

You looked up from your phone and glared at her for a second before looking back at your screen.

“See ! That’s what I’m talking about.” Mi-na said.

“Oh !” She put a hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder, “Baby, why don’t you set her up with one of your friends ?”

You immediately clicked your phone screen off and shoved it in your pocket, “Fuck no.”

Thanos looked over at you confused and Mi-na furrowed her eyebrows at you and tilted her head towards Thanos basically telling you your being rude.

You awkwardly laughed, “I’m sorry, that came out wrong… it’s just I’ve seen Thanos’s instagram. All him and his friends do is drugs, drink, and party. That’s not my scene, I need someone more-“

You were about to say mature but bit your tongue, “-what’s the word I’m looking for… umm- mellow I guess ?”

Thanos nodded his head in understanding, “Everyone has there preferences.” He shrugged.

“What about Nam-gyu ?” Mi-na asked Thanos with a smile on her face, “Didn’t he just make 3 months sober ?”

Thanos raised his eyebrows, “Oh yeah, I guess I do have a mellow friend.”

“He’s an ex addict ?” You asked, not very surprised since it is Thanos’s friend.

“Yup, he almost died of a heroine overdose a few months back and has been clean from drugs and drinking ever since.” He grinned, “I’m proud of him.”

“I’m sorry did you say- Heroine ??”

Thanos nodded, “Yeah, I’m surprised heroine was the one that got to him. He was on all sorts of things: cocaine, ecstasy-“

Mi-na put both her hands on his shoulders, “Alright babe, he can fill her in, you don’t have to give her his whole backstory.” She raised her eyebrows at him and you knew that look too well, she was basically telling him to stop talking. “You’ll scare her off before she even goes on the date.”

“Yeah because if there’s nothing better than an addict, it’s a recovering one.” You muttered.

She crossed her arms, “Okay, so now he’s too mellow ?”

“No.” You narrowed your eyes at her, “I would love someone who doesn’t drink or do drugs but Mi-na he’s in recovery.”

“And ?”

“And ?! What if he relapses ? I don’t want to be somebody’s mom.” You spat, crossing your arms as well.

Mi-na pulled out her phone, “I think you’ll change your mind once you see a picture of him. He’s really cute.” She glanced over at her boyfriend, “I’m saying in the sense that she would find him cute, I know her type pretty well by now.”

She tossed her phone to you, “He’s the one in the white t-shirt.”

“Oh yeah, I recognize him, he’s the one that’s always holding onto Thanos whenever Thanos posts pictures of him and his friends.”

“He’s not always holding on to me ?”

You turned the phone so they could see the screen, “Dude he’s literally hugging your arm and his head is resting on your shoulder.”

Thanos looked at the phone, “It was cold that day.”

Mi-na laughed grabbing her phone, “Anyways, he’s single, sober, and cute. He’s perfect for you y/n.”

You pursed your lips, you were pretty lonely. You had friends but they all had partners which made it hard for you to hang out unless you wanted to third wheel like you are now.

“I mean… he is kind of cute I guess.”

Mi-na shrieked, “Yay ! Thanos will send him your number.” She kissed her boyfriend on the cheek and clapped her hands in excitement, “If this works out, we could even go on double dates !”

————

You and Nam-gyu had texted back and forth for a few days now, planning to have your first date this weekend. You suggested getting coffee and Nam-gyu loved the idea saying that he knows the perfect spot and sent you the address.

Once there, you spotted him sitting down. “Hey Nam-gyu right ?”

He looked up from his phone and smiled, quickly putting it away. “Yes and you must be y/n.” He stood up and gave you a friendly hug.

You felt yourself blushing from the contact, you knew he was touchy feely with Thanos but figured it was because they were friends.

He smelled of the ocean mixed with amber and you could tell from how healthy the ends of his hair looked he recently got a haircut.

“You’re going to love this place. It has everything: coffee, teas, desserts. It’s amazing.”

When you guys got to the front, the cashier asked what you guys wanted. Nam-gyu answered it fairly quickly, not giving your eyes much time to scan the menu above you.

After the cashier entered his order she looked at you, “umm-“ You made eye contact with Nam-gyu, “What would you recommend ? I’m more of a coffee person but there’s so many options.”

“Hmm… do you like your coffee more on the bitter or sweet side ?”

“Sweet.”

He smiled, “Then I’d suggest their Carmel Macchiato. It’s sounds boring, I know, but for your first time being here I’d start with that, it’s really good.”

You nodded your head and turned your attention back to the cashier, “I’ll get a small Carmel Macchiato please.”

“Okie dokie.” She typed in your order and then smiled while reading out your total.

Nam-gyu pulled out a twenty dollar bill and told her to keep the change, “Thank you.” She said, “We’ll call your order out when it’s ready.”

You guys walked over to a table and sat down across from each other, “Thank you for buying my coffee.” You blushed.

“Oh yeah of course.”

You rubbed your hands together under the table feeling them sweat. You haven’t been on a date in a while and have never had an actual boyfriend before so this was all new to you.

“How did you and Thanos meet ?” You asked, trying to ease your nerves by getting him to talk.

“I used to work at this club downtown and the owner of the club would always let him come in for free because it would attract more people to his club. After a while of being there, Thanos and I got familiar with each other and one day he asked me if I knew anybody who sold drugs. I hooked him up with one of my buddies and we started doing them together, the rest is history.”

You weren’t expecting him to be such an open book but felt yourself slowly becoming more comfortable around him, he seemed like a chill guy.

“One Americano and one Carmel Macchiato.”

“That’s us.” Nam-gyu said, he went over to the counter and grabbed your coffees. When he came back he handed you your drink and you thanked him.

“You wanna go take a walk ?” He asked.

“Sure.” You grinned, following him outside.

You actually preferred this, walking side by side instead of sitting down and looking at each other face to face. It took a lot of the pressure off and you found yourself talking a lot more than you thought you would.

He told you about his battle with addiction and how it nearly killed him. You felt bad for judging him so harshly when Thanos and Mi-na told you about it.

Getting his side of the story made you realize that he wasn’t just a a sleazy guy who drank and did drugs to have fun, he had past trauma that he was dealing with. Now that he’s sober, he told you he’s found better ways to cope like going to therapy and exercising.

He finished his drink first, throwing it away and a few minutes later you finished yours, throwing it in a trash bin as well.

You only knew him for about 30 minutes but already felt safe with him, like he was a long time friend.

“So…” you stopped walking and finally faced him making eye contact, “What now ?” You asked with a smile.

He returned the smile, “I really enjoyed our date and would like to continue it but it’s up to you. We can hang out another time if you’re busy.”

It was weird, you felt special for the first time in a while and that excited you. You didn’t want this date to end anytime soon either.

You bit your lip, “I had fun too.” You said, rocking back and forth a bit. “Would it be odd of me to ask you to hang out at my place ?”

“No, not at all.”

————

When you got to your place, Nam-gyu removed his jacket and you told him he could hang it up on the coat rack. He wore a brown tank top underneath his jacket and, every now and then, you caught yourself stealing glances of his veiny arms; and at the way the material would outline his chest and abdomen.

You guys continued chatting on the couch as you guys tried to find something to watch on Netflix. You ended up settling on a comedy that neither of you have seen yet.

He clicked a button to play the movie, setting the remote down on the arm rest next to him and then threw his other arm over the couch.

A thought popped into your head of scooting over and leaning into his side, but you knew that would be kind of weird. Then again, it seems that Nam-gyu’s love language is physical contact so maybe he wouldn’t mind ?

You casually scooted yourself over and Nam-gyu’s head turned. You looked up to meet his eyes, “Is this okay ?” You asked, scooting into his side and placing a hand on his chest.

He nodded, “Yeah I don’t mind.” His hand dropped to around your shoulders as he went back to watching the movie.

You tried watching the movie as well, you really did but all you could think about was his body against yours. The heat radiating off of him made you want to snuggle into him more like a weighted blanket.

Half way through the movie, you were able to concentrate on the plot a little bit, until Nam-guy’s thumb began rubbing back and forth on your arm. It was a simple gesture and you were pretty sure he was doing it unconsciously but it made the inside of your stomach fill with butterflies.

When the movie was over, Nam-gyu looked over at you. “It was alright, I thought it was kind of funny, how about you ?”

You turned and made eye contact with for a split second before licking your lips and attaching them to his. You were surprised by your hunger for him and you could tell he was shocked as well by the way he didn’t react for a few seconds.

When he reciprocated the kiss, you positioned your body on top of his. Your knees on either side of his legs, as your hands went to his hair.

His hands made their way to your hips pulling you closer into him and you moaned. Pulling away from him, you ripped your shirt off over your head, throwing it to the floor before reattaching your mouths.

His cold fingers snaked up your back, unclipping your bra. Once done, you threw it to the floor as well. One of his hands cupped your breast and you broke the kiss leaning your head against his.

“You okay ?” He whispered.

“Yeah.” You breathed, “But…”

He removed his hand from your breast, waiting for you to finish.

You sighed, “I know I’ve only known you for less than a day and I really like you.” You watched as your hands trialed down his chest, “And don’t get me wrong I really like what we have going on right now.”

You looked him in the eyes, he was smiling listening to you. “But I’m also not the kind of person to hook up with someone after just meeting them. I want to get to know you better before we get to that point.”

His hand cupped your face, caressing it with his thumb. “I respect that. Since my sobriety I’ve made a rule for myself as well, to not hook up with anybody unless we are dating. I’ve been doing good so far but I’ll be honest if you hadn’t stopped, I don’t think I would’ve stuck to it.” He blushed biting his lip.

You giggled, “I like that rule, I think I’ll adopt that as well.”

He smirked, “Does this mean cuddling is off the table too ?”

You rolled your eyes at his silly question, “Off course not.” You smiled before wrapping your arms around his neck and sinking into him. He interlocked his hands behind you while resting his head on your shoulder.