#not enough words and time to talk about how much I love her and her quotes and her character arc truly

[navybrat817]

All Dressed Up

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky visits a gallery to support his best friend and unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: First meeting, mild dirty thoughts, instacrush, swearing, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Okay, lovelies. A new AU. I'm sorry. @targaryenvampireslayer @tavners @starlightcrystalline @whisperlullaby @sgt-seabass @vesearlee , I feel like you all either heard me screech, encouraged, or helped me, and I appreciate you. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the incredible @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t dress up for most people since it wasn’t his style. He would do so for any of his brothers though, especially Steve. His best friend since childhood, and his club’s president, he always had a love and talent for drawing and painting. And after working his ass off on his exhibit it would’ve been a crime for the vice president not to show up.

Steve promised if there was ever a day when Bucky’s writing became published he’d be by his side to celebrate too. As much as they liked to give each other shit sometimes about art and how they created it, the support was there through and through. The only catch for tonight was that he had to dress nicely to get into the gallery. So, instead of the usual leather jacket or vest he wore and jeans, he went with a plain black suit and white button up shirt.

He refused to wear a tie since it wasn’t a wedding. He had to draw a line somewhere. No one paid him any mind though as they walked around the gallery, and he was more than fine with that. This wasn’t his night.

“You should be proud, punk,” Bucky said, looking over the art lining the large wall, each piece crafted with care.

“I am proud, jerk,” Steve smiled. He hadn’t worn a tie either, and it made Bucky feel a little better. “And you know you don’t have to stay the whole time.”

Bucky knew that. He also knew members and prospects would be trickling in and out throughout the evening. “Not needed at the bar tonight, so I can stay as long as I want. But I might cut out early since I see your face enough between that and the club.”

Steve chuckled. “Still haven’t sold the place, huh?”

The brunette sighed. It wasn’t the first time Steve asked if he was going to sell the bar to focus more on writing. “Where the hell would you all hang out if I sold the place?” He liked the bar. It wasn’t just a great hangout for the club, but for his other regulars, too.

“There are other bars,” Steve teased. He said that, but he loved the bar, too. “You know I just want you to-”

“Follow my compass. I know. You’ve said that so many…” He stopped talking when he saw an unexpected angel walk into the room.

Well, angel was the word that came to mind since you were wearing a white dress and the light over your head illuminated you like a halo. But as his eyes swept over you, he wondered if there was a bit of a devil in you. He wouldn’t mind bringing that side out of you if you gave him the chance.

And here he used to think love at first sight was bullshit.

“Hey. Do you know her?” Bucky subtly nodded in your direction as you spoke to another woman, jealousy flaring up for a second at the thought of his best friend knowing you and not telling him. And if you knew Steve, that was that before things even started. While the blonde didn’t have much game growing up, he came into his own after his growth spurt, and everyone adored or wanted him.

Steve shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said, making Bucky’s shoulders slump in relief before his friend scrutinized him. “Jesus, are you eye fucking her? You are, aren’t you?”

Bucky wasn’t the least bit ashamed. “And I’ll keep doing it ‘til she looks at me,” he replied, wishing you’d at least spare him a glance and get a look at him in his nice suit. Maybe you weren’t into guys with tattoos and piercings, but he was certain he could change your mind if that was the case.

“How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?” Steve asked. “Just introduce yourself like a gentleman and see where that goes.”

“A couple of months? Something like that.” Tearing his gaze away to glance at his inked hands, he chuckled. “You think I’m a gentleman?”

He could be dangerous and downright dirty when the occasion called for it, but just because he rode a motorcycle and covered himself in tattoos and piercings didn’t mean he treated others poorly. He was raised better than that. Even with his ex-girlfriends, things never ended because he didn’t treat them well. They just weren’t the one.

“We both know you are. Sometimes,” Steve answered, smirking as a beat passed. “And she’s looking your way.”

Bucky’s head snapped up to find you looking right at him with a curious stare. You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Which was nothing compared to your smile. It was like watching the sun slowly rise to meet the day.

Fuck, he was being sappy. You ruined him with a single stare, and he wanted to ruin you in return. Make it so you wouldn’t want another man.

You whispered something to the woman beside you before she nudged you forward and he realized Steve pushed him to move, too. It only took three more steps before he was right in front of you, the gentle smell of your sweet perfume filling his nostrils. Need slammed into his body as you smiled again, and he actually felt the blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils widened.

If Steve thought he was eye fucking you before…

“Hey,” he said, his voice raspier than usual.

“Hi,” you said. It was a voice he could listen to for hours and he wondered what it would sound like when you said his name.

“I’m Bucky.” He took a smaller step closer, trying his damnedest to block out any other man around him so you’d keep those pretty eyes on him.

You introduced yourself, too, and it was a name he would never forget. “I like your tattoos,” you added almost shyly. Almost.

If he had his way, you’d see the rest of them soon enough. “Thanks,” he smiled, holding one hand up to show you. “Dressed like this, I bet you think I’m part of the mob.” After getting dressed and adding the gold jewelry, even he thought for a split second he looked like a mobster.

“Are you or is that information I can’t be privy to?” you asked, making him chuckle. You didn’t skip a beat, and he liked that.

“Not part of the mob, but I am part of a motorcycle club,” he replied. He wore his patch with pride and that didn’t seem to scare you, which was good. “I also own a bar.” He didn’t know why added that part. You didn’t ask and he didn’t want to brag, but there he was.

“So, you ride a motorcycle, and you own a bar?” You glanced back at your friend to ask her, “Do you mind if I…”

“I’m good. You two talk,” your friend smiled, giving Bucky an encouraging wink. He looked back to find that Steve walked away, too.

You smiled as you faced Bucky again. “Well, I’m happy to hear more about either of those things if you have time.”

“Yeah.” A lopsided smile appeared before he could stop it. “I got time,” he said. All the time in the world.

Over the next hour, the two of you stayed close together and talked in between looking at Steve’s pieces. He told you he was there to support Steve and talked a little bit more about the bar he owned. A hole in the wall kind of place he fixed up. While he wasn’t a big drinker, he loved making them for his regulars, and his profession allowed him to get away with all the tattoos.

“I’ll have to stop by sometime,” you smiled before it faltered. “If that’s okay.”

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but his heart raced, and he wanted to see you smile again. “I’ll hold you to that,” he teased. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

You told him that you were a blood bank nurse and still fairly new to the area. While you didn’t have too many friends nearby, you liked your neighborhood and the one friend you had made invited you to the gallery since she was an art enthusiast. You also let it slip that you were single upon your move here, which he was happy to hear since he was, too, but he didn’t miss the note of sadness in your voice.

He could help fix it if you were lonely.

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” he stated.

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don’t have an old lady?” His eyes went right to your lip when he bit it. “That is the correct term of endearment, right?”

“That’s right,” he said, his eyes soft. “Both of those things are right.”

You bit your lip again and he wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to entice him, but now he wanted to bite your lip. “So, do you do anything for fun outside of riding and work?”

He almost groaned when you said “riding” and he had to shake his head to keep his mind from drifting. He couldn’t think of you being on his bike with your arms wrapped tight around him or you riding him or anything like that. “Well…”

He explained that he wrote a bit in his spare time outside of work and the club. It was a hobby mostly, but it would be a dream come true to get his work out there one day. If not, that was okay, too, because he had a decent life and didn’t need much. His bike, his brothers.

But to have an old lady…

“Maybe I could read…” you frowned when you saw the time. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going,” you said, disappointment filling both of you.

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck. The two of you were having a nice talk, and he hadn’t had a chance to ask about your hobbies yet. “It’s still kinda early. Do you really have to go?” he asked, realizing just how desperate he sounded. God, if the prospects could hear him right now… He just didn’t want the night to end.

“Yeah, I do. I’m actually working a blood drive tomorrow and could use the rest,” you said, smiling sadly. He felt like an ass for asking you to stay when you had work to do. “I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about it, but you’re welcome to stop by if you want to donate. I always have this fear that people won’t show, which I realize sounds ridiculous.”

Bucky mentally kicked his ass for not knowing about a local blood drive. He was usually more on top of those sorts of things. “Where’s it at?” You gave the location and time, which was all he needed. “I’ll be there,” he promised.

And every single club member would be there, too, if they knew what was good for them.

“Really?” you smiled, your hand bumping his when you turned to face him. “You’ll go?”

He let his fingers brush yours and he smiled to himself when he felt the light shiver. “Of course, doll.”

“Doll?” you giggled. He hoped he didn’t offend you. “I hope you show,” you added in a small voice, your gaze focused on the ground.

Frowning a bit, he wondered if you didn’t believe him. Did someone let you down before? “If I say I’ll be there…” He lifted your chin, so you’d look into his eyes. He needed you to see the truth in them. “I’ll be there.”

You exhaled, staring deeply into his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you whispered.

He grudgingly released you, knowing he had to. Besides, if he kept touching you, there was a good chance he’d pin you against the wall and show you what a work of art you were. “Good night,” he whispered, watching you go back to your friend. She linked her arm with yours as you glanced back, keeping your eyes on Bucky until you were out of sight.

He exhaled, mentally kicking his ass again. Why the fuck didn’t he ask for your number? You two hit it off, and you wanted to see him at least in some capacity beyond the blood drive, right?

Steve made a beeline for him as he stayed rooted to the spot. “It looks like you two hit it off. You know you didn’t even say hi to Chris or Sam or-”

“We’re going to a blood drive tomorrow,” he cut in. He hoped people would show, but he gave you his word he’d be there, and the club was all about giving back to the community.

The blonde’s eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Blood drive. Tomorrow. Everyone,” he said, giving his friend a hard stare. “You’re the president. Make it happen.”

“You’re the vice president, which means you supervise plans for club events or gatherings. That includes last minute things,” he pointed out, his eyebrows shooting up as Bucky got his phone out and typed quickly. “You’re serious about this?”

“Is it too much to say, ‘You better fucking be there or you’ll pay for it later’?”

The blonde grinned. A shit-eating, knowing grin, and he wanted to smack him. “This is all for her, isn’t it?”

Bucky sighed. He hadn't expected to meet someone so perfect tonight. “She’s a nurse and I wanna help. Besides, it’s good for the community and you’re all about that shit.” And he had to make a better impression after not asking for your number. “Will you at least promise you’ll be there?”

“To watch my whipped best friend fawn over a pretty nurse? Hell yeah.”

“Beautiful,” he corrected him. “She’s beautiful.”

And while Bucky would fawn over you tomorrow, he also hoped he’d get your number.

So, what do we think so far? Part of this writing style was slightly different for me, but I like how it turned out! I still need to give this reader a nickname and the AU a name, but this is a start. I can't wait for the whole club to show up at the blood drive. I also have something silly and cute planned for these two. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[madebycloud]

Make it Special

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi's birthdays are usually quiet, but this year? the whole family is doing their best to make it special. (requested by twinklestarslight) warnings/themes: fluff, birthdays, found family, modern au words: 3.6k notes: THIS IS SO LATE IM SO SORRY BUT BELATED HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS WOMAN!!

Vi's birthday was, like most of her other birthdays, uneventful. Vi tended to keep to herself. The day usually passed with more than a quiet “happy birthday” on everyone's lips. However, this year will be different. This year, Vi will find out just how loved she was and just how much she meant to the people she cared about.

“There's streamers in the cabinet, if you could help me hang those up,” Vander says, giving you a nod as you go to grab a chair to reach the ceiling. From there, you make yourself busy decorating—streamers along the walls, lanterns to dim the lights a bit.

“You think she'll like it?” Silco asks, leaning on the counter. He has a cigarette in his hand, but he's doing his best to keep the smoke away from everyone else. “Think she'll be mad?”

“I don't think she'll be mad,” you say, “she'll probably be shocked or confused, but not mad.”

Benzo is setting up the tables around the bar, taking chairs from the barstools and setting them around. He's been helping with decorations since Vander asked him, and he's been trying his hardest to keep the place neat. He even got a box of party hats, hoping to find a way to talk everyone into wearing one.

Claggor and Mylo are messing around with the music, trying to find a station that plays punk rock or heavy metal, which they know Vi likes. The first song that plays when they finally get the right station is punk rock, and the two look at each other, a smirk spreading on their faces.

Ekko is bringing down plates of food from the kitchen. There's cake, which Powder bakes earlier, sandwiches, cupcakes, and various snacks. Anything that can possibly satisfy any of Vi's cravings.

Sevika is at her usual spot by the bar. She's not doing much decorating wise, but she's there, and she's helping with the more heavy things like the tables and chairs.

Benzo nudges you when he's all set up, motioning over to the box of party hats. He's already put his own on. It's black and pink, with hearts on the sides. “You think I could get Vi to wear one?” he asks with a chuckle. “Or y'think she'd try to knock it offa my head?”

“I'll try to convince,” you say, putting down the streamers you just hung. “Maybe if we all wear one, it'll seem more welcoming.”

“Maybe she'll say yes,” Ekko says, passing by and stealing a chip off the plate on the table. “Not a guaranteed one, probably a ten percent chance.”

“But,” Claggor starts, walking to help Ekko with the food. “It is a small chance, so you might be able to get her with it,” he says. “She's a sucker for you.”

—

You still need to get Vi's birthday gift, which, admittedly, should've been done a lot earlier, but decorating the bar had come together so fast, you barely had enough time to think, let alone pick out something for Vi.

Now, you stand outside the animal shelter, shifting nervously as you look up at the sign. Vi has been thinking about getting a dog for a while now, and you know this shelter is one of her favorite places to visit, even though she has never gotten a dog of her own. Maybe it's time to change that.

You push the door open. The shelter is mostly empty at this hour, and you make your way towards the front.

The lady at the desk greets you with a smile. She's an older woman, and she's wearing a jacket with various cat hairs on it. “How can I help you?” 

“I'm looking to adopt a dog, actually.”

“Oh, how nice,” the lady smiles, setting the paperwork she was working on aside and giving you her attention. “We have a lot of dogs available for adoption. Any breed you're looking for in particular?”

“Do you have any huskies for adoption right now?” You look around the shelter, trying to look for any cages that might have a dog inside.

The lady nods. “We do have a few, actually. Would you like to see them?” she asks, standing from her chair.

“I would, yes.”

She leads you down a hall that's lined with cages. Different breeds of dogs of different sizes and coat colors are barking and yelping when you walk by, trying to get your attention. if only you could adopt all of them. Impossible. But still, if you could, you would.

The lady leads you down another hallway after the first, and you stop in front of a cage. Two huskies. They're curled up together and asleep, but they lift their heads when they notice the two of you stop in front of them.

One of the huskies perks up, getting to its feet and moving closer, wagging its tail as it looks up at you with wide eyes. The other follows suit, looking up at you through squinted eyes, as if it has been woken up from a deep sleep.

“They're siblings,” the lady notes, crouching down to pet the closer of the two, smiling as it nudges her hand, tongue lolling out of its mouth. “They're still only pups, about one month old,” she continues. “A young couple dropped them off a week ago. They couldn't keep them. They didn't have the time for them anymore.”

It sucks, people giving up on animals like this. Huskies need a lot of care, a lot of attention, and a lot of time spent training. They're not dogs made to be stuck inside or alone for the whole day. You know most of the people who gave up huskies—or any dog for that matter—did it because they didn't know what they were doing. They couldn't take care of the dog, and they had to give them up. It's hard, for you and for the animal.

The lady continues to pet the puppy in front of you. “Are you thinking about adopting one of them?” she asks, looking up at you.

“They're siblings,” you repeat, looking down at the two dogs. They're still focused on you, wide eyes looking at you. And, god, that look. You can't leave just one, they'll miss each other, they're siblings. “I'll take both of them.”

“Oh.” It takes the lady a second to process that, but then she smiles, standing up to her full height again. “That's… nice of you to take siblings. Not many people want to take siblings,” she says, walking over to the cage door. “I'll get you the paperwork, it's in the back. Make yourself comfortable, they don't bite.”

She leaves you to the cage with the dogs, who seem to have gotten even more excited, their paws scraping against the cage as they stand on their hind legs, putting their front paws on the edge. They're both panting, their tongues lolling in the same way as their tails wag back and forth, hitting the side of the cage. The lady comes back quickly and pulls out a clipboard, setting it on a table outside the cage door.

The lady goes through a bit of paperwork with you, questions regarding whether or not you're able to actually take care of the dogs if you have the time and the money to take care of them. That sort of thing. 

She talks to you a bit, gives you advice on how to take care of them, and then she gives you a crate, one for each of the dogs (but of course, you'll keep them in one crate, no reason to keep them separated), and now, with the crate in your hands and the dogs inside it, you're on your way back to Vander's bar.

You push the door of the bar open, hearing the quiet footsteps of everyone inside, the sound of the music turned off and silence having replaced it. You can hear Vander shushing everyone, and-

“HAPPY BIRTH-” the light snaps on suddenly, and they pause, looking you up and down with confusion... and the crate on your arms. 

“...day?” Mylo continues, awkwardly.

Vander shakes his head. “So, it's not Vi,” he starts, walking closer to the crate. “What's in there?”

“It's for Vi,” you reply, holding the crate closer to your chest. “She's not here yet?”

“Nah,” Ekko answers. “She's still hanging out with Powder. We thought it's Vi when you entered though.”

—

Everyone has their own party hats. The last thing to be done is hide the gifts, and everyone does. Vander puts the presents in the back room. Everyone scrambles for their spots. Mylo, Claggor, and Ekko hide out near the table, while Silco, Sevika, and Benzo are next to Vander behind the counter.

You hear the door creak open, the sound of footsteps entering the bar.

“Thanks powder—oh god, it's dark.”

There's just a moment when everything is silent, the bar silent, and then the light snaps on—all the party supplies go off as everyone around the room yells, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

Vander leads the chorus, with everyone jumping from their spots, some popping the confetti poppers they had, others just yelling the words.

Powder walks to the table, picking up the cake she made. Bright pink frosting and a plethora of multicolored icing dots decorate the cake. Everyone around screams and rushes towards Vi, pulling her in the middle to join them.

You grab another one of the party hats off the table, setting it atop Vi's head, your own hat still perfectly secure on your own. “Happy birthday,” you mutter, pecking a kiss on her cheek. She looks up at you with a smile that makes you melt. The others let out an OOOO sound, clearly trying to embarrass her.

Vi flushes, looking back and forth at everyone. She punches the nearest person (Mylo), telling them to “shut up.”

Vander walks up to her, pulling her into a hug and a pat on the back.

“Happy birthday,” Silco hums, giving her a nod, smirk sitting on his lips.

Everyone else joins in, pulling her into one large group hug, wishing her a happy birthday, and making remarks to tease her. Mylo is getting another punch to the arm.

Powder walks over, carefully making her way through everyone to stand in front of Vi, holding the cake in front of her with a grin. “Make a wish.”

Everyone else backs up some, giving her space to think of one. Vi looks around the room, looking each person in the room in the eyes, everyone who showed up for her, her family before her eyes land on you. When she turns back to the cake again, a smile tugs at her lips, and she blows out her candles.

The group cheers, and everyone smiles. Mylo and Claggor are both nudging each other and whispering to each other, grinning widely. Even Vander's eyes are a bit misty, but he blinks it away before Vi can notice, putting an arm around her shoulder.

“The cake better be good,” Mylo mutters, rubbing his hands together, wanting a piece of cake. 

“Obviously,” Powder tells him, giving Mylo a dirty look. “I made it, the cake will be fine.” Powder sets the cake on the table, pushing it out of reach from Mylo, who tries to get a piece right then and there only to get his hand swatted at by Powder.

“Behave,” Silco scolds him. “It's her birthday, not yours.”

Mylo groans. Vander pulls out the cake knife, looking at Vi. “It's your birthday, you get to cut the cake first.”

Vi takes the knife from him, walking forward and staring at the cake. It's a pretty big cake, enough to feed everyone. 

Mylo stands behind her with his mouth practically watering, looking over her shoulder and trying to get a good look at the cake itself, ignoring everyone's protests and telling him to stop breathing down her neck. Everyone crowds behind Vi as she starts cutting the cake, with Mylo making a comment about wanting bigger pieces than everyone else, which he gets a quick shove and a scolding from everyone.

Eventually, after a bit of bickering, the cake is cut up and everyone gets their piece, save for Mylo, who only gets a small slice. “And you get what you asked for,” Vander says, smirking at his pouting face.

Everyone starts eating their piece of cake, complimenting Powder on how it turned out. It's delicious, of course, and the first slice is always the best. Vi sits beside you as she eats, and she nudges you with her shoulder. When you look at her, there's a forkful of cake up to your lips. “Say ahh,” she teases. You can hear Mylo fake gagging.

“I already have,” you hold up your plate as well as the fork still filled with cake.

“Still,” she says. “Pretty please?” she presses, pushing the fork closer to your lips. You can hear Mylo fake gag again, Powder telling him to shut up.

You open your mouth and let her feed you the cake. She waits until you swallow it before setting the fork aside, and she watches to make sure you like it as you chew.

“Ahhhh,” Mylo mocks. Powder kicks his shin, causing Mylo to yelp.

“It's good,” you hum, earning a smile from Vi.

The conversation continues around you, and while everyone else talks and eats, Vi pulls you closer to her, putting an arm around you and resting her head on your shoulder while listening to everyone, her thumb rubbing against your side.

Mylo and Claggor are now bickering, and you can never really tell over what, so you don't question it. It's not your business either way, and you don't care all too much. Silco is watching the two bicker, rubbing his temple, and Benzo is eating his cake, nodding along. Sevika is watching Mylo and Claggor fight, a smirk on her lips.

Vi absentmindedly traces her finger on your forearm, the cake in her other hand long forgotten. 

Everyone continues to eat, and the cake gets half eaten until everyone is satisfied and full. Mylo is complaining that he should've gotten more cake, Powder tells him again to shut up because it wasn't his cake to begin with, and Vander is trying his hardest to keep the peace.

Vi pulls away from you as Silco clears his throat, gathering everyone's attention. “Alright,” he starts. “Who wants to give something to Vi first?”

Everyone looks around at each other, as if trying to figure out who should go first. Claggor nudges Mylo into motion, and the two start to banter while Vander walks over to Vi with a box, setting it on the table in front of her.

Vi looks at the box, eyes trailing over the wrapping paper, and then backs up at Vander before taking the box delicately from the table. She takes the time to slowly unwrap it, not tearing into it too quickly, instead slowly taking the wrapping paper off one corner at a time.

Once she gets the paper off, she starts opening up the box, taking the lid off, and looking inside at the contents inside of it. It's a framed picture of the two of you. The picture is of a Christmas party with everyone at the Last Drop. All grouped up in the picture, surrounding her with smiles, and Vi has her arm wrapped around you, smiling as well.

“Oh,” she starts, trailing her finger down the glass, pausing to tap on your face in the photo. “This is amazing.” 

“There's more,” Vander says, “look at the back.”

In the back of the frame, Vi finds a picture. She pauses when she sees herself, Powder, and her parents. Her eyes linger, fingers stroking the picture. She's so much younger, so much smaller. They are smiling so wide as if they didn't know how things would change soon.

Powder sits down beside her. She rests her head on Vi's shoulder, watching her look at the photo, and she reaches out to take Vi's free hand, squeezing it in support.

Vi's eyes are glossy as she looks up, a faint smile on her face. “Thank you,” she mumbles, looking back down at the photo in her hand and at the faces of her parents. “This really means a lot.”

Vander nods, resting a hand on her shoulder. “I know you miss them,” he murmurs, low enough that it's just the two of them. “Thought you might like that.”

“We all love you, Vi,” Powder says, squeezing her hand.

“Yeah,” Mylo agrees. “You're stuck with us forever, don't forget that.” It earns him a jab in the side from Claggor and a look from Silco, but Vi snorts at him.

—

Everyone else has given Vi their presents. Some smaller, more simple, some more pricey than others.

Silco gifted her a few bottles of alcohol, with the advice not to drink it all in one go. 

Mylo gave her a new set of punching gloves that he saved up for, black and pink with ‘VI’ on the wrist. 

Claggor gave a new brass knuckle set, along with a nice pair of red leather gloves and a new beanie for the winter, since he had noticed hers was old and falling apart. 

Sevika gave a new leather jacket, black and lined with deep red, with silver zippers. She puts it on right away, getting some “ooo's” and “ah's” from everyone upon seeing how she looks with it on.

Benzo brought her a blanket. He explained that he didn't know what to get her, so he walked into the store and looked for the softest blanket they had, thinking it was the only thing that made the most sense.

Ekko gave her a painting. On it was a detailed, almost perfect looking Vi, complete with her tattoos and everything.

Powder gave a whole handmade care package. She made her favorite snacks, made her a book full of scrapbooking items and stickers, made her a bracelet with a few different colored beads, and made a cute mini scrapbook of the two of them and everyone else together. She got a few tears for that one and a tight hug.

Now, there's only one gift left for Vi. You hold the crate in your hands, the crate that holds the two sibling huskies.

The dogs are finally awake and squirming around inside, making noises as they try to greet everyone. You set the crate on the floor and let the pups run out, watching Vi stand up to come over to see the dogs. She kneels down to pet them, scratching behind both of their ears. She smiles as tears form in the corners of her eyes. She scoops both up into her arms, petting its fur and burying her face in its fur, just to take in the fact that she finally has a dog herself, and it's with her favorite person.

Powder grins. “Can I hold the other one?” she asks, and Vi nods her head, adjusting the dog in her arms to give Powder a better opening, allowing her to scoop the other one up, which starts nuzzling against her hand.

Vi turns to look at you. “Do they have names?” She strokes the puppy's fur.

“They do not,” you reply. “I figured you should be the one to name them.”

“I'll have to think of a good one.” She looks back down at the pup in her arms. “Maybe a matching name for them?”

“What about Mylo and Milo?” Mylo suggests, earning another elbow from Claggor.

“Ha ha,” Vi jokes back. “No.”

“That's so corny,” Powder mumbles. “How about a matching 'M' name?” Powder suggests. “like Mandy and Mack.”

“A dog should have a more badass name like Spike!” Mylo says.

Everyone throws out ideas. Some are better than others. Some are more serious, some are funnier, but none of them really stick. Vi listens to everyone's ideas, occasionally humming or shaking her head “no” to the suggestion.

Mylo even suggests one named “Mylo Junior” in a desperate attempt to include his own name, but gets shut down once more. Powder is getting annoyed, and even Ekko is trying to get Mylo to stop. 

Powder keeps suggesting names, and while there are some that seem like good suggestions, Vi doesn't quite agree with them. Claggor throws out a few names, each also being denied, though they are much better than the names Mylo suggested. Sevika even pitches in, the names that she suggests are a lot more serious and more mature sounding.

In the end, Vi still doesn't feel 100% on any of the names that have been thrown out, until she looks back up at you. “Any ideas? You haven't said anything.”

You look over at the dog on Vi's arm and the one on Powder's, looking back at your girlfriend. You're silent for a second before you suggest, “Bacon and Biscuit?”

“Bacon and Biscuit?” Mylo groans.

Sevika gives him a look, her eyebrows raised. “Odd but interesting.” 

“It's kind of cute,” Benzo agrees.

“It suits them, actually,” Silco nods next to him.

Vi thinks about it, looking at the pups as if considering the name. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she says, testing out the sound of it. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she repeats, and a smile creeps on her lips. “You guys like that?” she asks the dogs, as if expecting them to answer her.

Everyone nods their heads, even if they find it corny, it suits the puppies—or at least it suits them at that moment.

“Bacon and Biscuit,” Powder coos, scratching one of the dogs behind the ear.

“It's not the worst thing we've heard,” Mylo admits. “But Mylo Jr. is way better,” and this earns him a punch in the arm again.

She looks back up at you. “I love it,” she says, looking back down at the dogs. “Bacon and Biscuit,” she repeats once more, loving the way it sounds.

“The names are set, then,” Vander says. “Now that that's settled, let's continue with the birthday party, shall we?”

notes: i do NOT know how to name a pet so....

[iamgonnagetyouback]

jealous? who, me?

theodore nott x reader where you meet his friends for the first time and daphne is definitely not in your good books

↬ word count : 931 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : secondhand embarrassment (for daphne) ⭑.ᐟ

↬ author's note : i loved this too much (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

navigation┆theodore nott masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

You weren’t supposed to be feeling this way. This was Theodore’s night—his friends, his circle, his world. You’d come to the party with the intention of being supportive and charming, maybe even making a good impression.

Until Daphne Greengrass entered the picture.

She was pretty. Too pretty. Effortlessly gorgeous with her sleek blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a laugh that danced through the room like wind chimes. And the worst part? She knew Theodore—knew him well.

You stood beside Theodore, nursing your wine glass and trying to maintain a polite smile as Daphne monopolized the conversation. Her hand brushed his arm—again—and she tossed her hair back with an almost rehearsed air of effortlessness.

Theodore, ever the gentleman, leaned in slightly to hear her better, his lips twitching at something she said. You weren’t entirely sure what was so funny, but you were sure it wasn’t that funny.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you muttered under your breath, your voice laced with dry amusement.

Theodore’s brow quirked, but before he could speak, Daphne excused herself. “Excuse me for a second, I need to grab a drink,” she said, flashing you a quick glance, one you could only describe as calculating.

Theodore turned to you as soon as she was out of earshot, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. “What’s funny?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You smiled sweetly, far too sweetly. “Nothing, Tesoro. Just enjoying the show.”

One brow arched as he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice carrying a teasing edge. “Should I be worried?”

You took a deliberate sip of your wine, eyes flickering toward the direction Daphne had gone. “Not at all. I think you’re the one being thoroughly entertained.”

Theodore’s lips twitched again, this time with a barely concealed laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, your smile sharp enough to cut.

His brow quirked, but before he could say something, Daphne made her way over, holding two glasses of champagne. She handed one to Theodore, completely ignoring you.

“Thought you might need a refill,” she said, her tone light and lilting. “We wouldn’t want you getting parched, would we?”

You raised your own glass slightly. “Oh, don’t worry, Daphne. I’m keeping him hydrated just fine.”

Daphne’s smile faltered for half a second before she recovered. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, tilting your head with faux innocence. “I like to take care of my things.”

Theodore’s grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel the low rumble of a laugh in his chest, though he didn’t let it escape. Instead, he pressed his lips to your temple in what was meant to be a calming gesture but only fueled your sass.

“So,” Daphne began, clearly trying to redirect. “Theo was just telling me about the time we went to Monaco together. What a trip, right?”

“Monaco?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “How quaint. Theo and I were just talking about planning something grander. Italy, maybe. You know, somewhere with a bit more... romance.”

Daphne blinked, clearly thrown off. “Italy’s nice. I’ve been to Tuscany a few times.”

“Of course you have,” you replied, swirling your wine lazily. “So cultured of you.”

Theodore cleared his throat, his grip on your waist now firmly grounding. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Play nice.”

“I am playing nice,” you whispered back, your tone dripping with faux sweetness. “She started it.”

“I heard that,” Daphne said, smiling tightly.

“Oh, good,” you said, flashing her a grin. “I’d hate for you to feel left out.”

Theodore’s shoulders shook slightly as he tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh. “Daphne, why don’t you tell me about that new project you mentioned earlier?” he asked, his voice steady despite his amusement.

“Oh, yes!” Daphne launched into an explanation about some fashion venture she was working on, her hands gesturing animatedly. You nodded along, your expression politely disinterested, until she said something you couldn’t resist.

“It’s been such a challenge finding the right balance between trendy and timeless, you know?” Daphne said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know,” you replied airily. “I just wear whatever Theo likes to take off.”

Daphne’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that clashed horribly with her dress, and Theodore’s hand on your waist flexed as he pulled you even closer.

“Cara mia,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with warning. “Behave.”

“I’m behaving,” you said innocently, glancing up at him with wide eyes. “Aren’t I, Daphne?”

Daphne set her champagne down on a nearby table, her smile now more brittle than bright. “Well, it’s been lovely catching up, Theo,” she said, barely sparing you a glance. “I’ll see you around.”

As soon as she walked away, Theodore let out a quiet laugh, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“She’s impossible,” you shot back.

“She’s harmless.”

“She’s obnoxious.”

He straightened, his dark eyes gleaming as he looked at you. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You are,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Fine,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “Maybe I didn’t love the way she looked at you.”

“Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “She could look at me all she wants. I’m still going home with you.”

You huffed, but the way his hand slid up your back and the warmth in his eyes softened your irritation.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.

“And you’re lucky I find you endlessly entertaining,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you.

[daffodils-and-viscera]

can we talk about stolas and octavia and antidepressants for a second

as someone with a lot of experience taking antidepressants and dealing with family members who Do Not Understand how depression works, it really struck me how octavia deals with discovering that stolas has been taking antidepressants.

presumably, he has been taking these for a VERY long time and based on the evidence in this episode, nobody in his life knew about it- clearly not blitzø or octavia, at least.

i don't see stolas as someone who has been to therapy - this reads to me very much like someone who saw "happy pills" and decided to self-medicate because he thought they would fix him, not as someone who was prescribed a medication and a dose to take (we've seen him downing handfuls of these pills on several occasions in past episodes)

octavia is (understandably) unsettled when she finds this giant box of pills, and despite all her complicated feelings for her father she IMMEDIATELY goes to find him to bring him his pills

octavia is smart!! yes she is pissed off at her dad and this implies that she could have gone to see him at any time when he was calling her, but this discovery kind of goes beyond any argument- no matter how she feels, she ultimately doesn't want stolas to suffer

then we get the big fight scene, which ends with the devastating argument between octavia and stolas where she says "was this my fault that you needed these?"

i adore the amount of nuance in their interaction here for so many reasons, but specifically this vein of "i love you but clearly you don't love me or else you wouldn't be depressed" hits very close to home for me and i love the way it's shown as messy and neither stolas nor octavia really understand the way their words are hurting one another

so it kind of breaks my heart that she closes herself off to him but leaves him with this bottle of happy pills because he does need them. and she knows it, and she cares enough to want him to be happy.

she just doesn't think that happiness includes her, because in her mind she's nothing more than an obligation to him.

ugh the day these two reunite i will be reduced to a pile of mush i just love how complex their relationship is it's so tasty

[please-destroy]

Legacy

Natasha Romanoff x Reader + Family

Word Count: 1.7k

You can definitely read this on its own. Or it can follow on from the last few stories I've posted.

.

You heard the front door slam and winced automatically. Every day seemed to hold another fight between your daughter and your wife.

When Natasha had told you she was picking your daughter up from school, you’d bitten your tongue. You heard the raised voices in the hallway and sighed slowly.

You braced yourself as you rose to join. This didn’t feel like much of a family these days. You felt like more of a peacekeeper than a parent or a partner.

You paused behind the closed door when you heard your daughter yell.

You tried to click pieces into place before you joined them. Something about her hair and her choice.

You heard the low murmur of Natasha’s voice. She always went quiet in fights with your daughter. Some legacy of her past that still made her wary of the impact of raising her voice, of losing her temper entirely.

You couldn’t hear her words but her anger was unmistakable. You opened the door hurriedly. Two pairs of eyes landed on you at once.

Your daughter rushed to get the first word in, as if you were the judge and jury of this argument.

‘I already bought the stuff.’ She told you determinedly. Her fingers gripped her backpack fiercely.

You caught Natasha’s desperate look at you and sighed quietly. Whatever was going on, you knew Natasha was silently asking for your support for a reason.

You tilted your head at your daughter and waited for more information. You hated playing this balancing act.

‘I’m going to dye my hair blue’. Your daughter continued. Her brown eyes flashed suddenly with something that was entirely Natasha.

‘No you’re not.’ Natasha interrupted suddenly from beside you. Her arms moved to cross in front of her. Sometimes, the two of them reminded you more of sisters than mother and child.

There was a pause. You saw the look on your daughter’s face and realised she was trying to prepare herself for her next words. You cringed in anticipation.

‘I know you had blue hair.’ Your daughter accused Natasha abruptly.

The air left the room as you both froze. Your eyes scanned Natasha’s immediately. You hadn’t known that, but you could tell immediately that it was true. Natasha blinked back her obvious shock. You resisted putting an arm around her shoulders. You didn’t want to take sides, but you felt the ache of Natasha’s past like an old wound.

‘I saw the pictures.’ Your daughter added, her arms moving to cross themselves, just like Natasha’s.

An acutely vulnerable and threatened look crossed Natasha’s features. Her eyes were unseeing as more emotions rolled through her. You tensed nervously. She looked murderous. A line had been crossed.

‘Those pictures are private.’ Natasha said in a low voice. A shiver ran down your spine at the sound. ‘You had no right - ’.

‘I’m your kid.’ Your daughter interrupted, her voice rising higher with hysteria. She blinked away her tears angrily.

‘Where are those pictures now?’ Natasha’s voice stayed a growl. You found yourself stepping forward. It was too late to keep the peace, but you felt the situation slipping closer to words that couldn’t be unsaid.

Your hand brushed your daughter’s shoulder.

‘Hey.’ You called calmly and your daughter’s eyes flickered warily up to you. ‘We can talk about dyeing your hair later. Get your mom’s pictures.’

‘No.’

Your jaw clenched in frustration, you took a deep breath. You felt the oncoming explosion, you didn’t know if you could stop it.

You felt Natasha seethe obviously. You loved her well enough to sense how hard she was working to stay cool. You didn’t know the context of the pictures, you were certain of their importance to her. 

‘Give them back to me.’ Natasha said one more time, and you knew it was the last warning.

‘I get to have some pieces of you.’ Your daughter declared suddenly. Her voice was wavering obviously, the angry tears still stained her cheeks.

‘You don’t get to have that piece.’ Natasha shook her head fervently. ‘Give me back my fucking photos.’

‘Fuck you.’ Your daughter retaliated, and the words fell out her mouth like she’d been waiting to say it.

Something hardened in Natasha as the words landed, you watched her try and ignore it.

‘Pictures.’ You iterated again, firmly. Your voice stayed level. You knew the unbearable tension couldn’t release from Natasha until she had them back.

You didn’t realise there was more your daughter might say. Her fingers fumbled with the front zipper on her backpack, she rummaged inside and produced a single strip of photos. Your eyes clung to the produced glossy strip of paper as she threw it in the air and floated to the ground.

There were two girls in the pictures and your heart twisted in further understanding. You noted the bright blue hair that caught the eye easily. 

Natasha snatched the photos so fast, they hadn’t even reached the ground. You should have anticipated her next move. Your daughter certainly didn’t. Natasha plucked out the box of hair dye from inside her open backpack in one smooth motion. 

The outrage in your daughter’s face would have been comical if it didn’t make you so nervous.

‘Fuck you.’ She said again and this time the words came out in a desperately controlled voice. She’d pitched it lower and you wondered if she knew she was imitating her mother.

‘You never wanted me.’ She accused Natasha now, voice cracking. Tears started streaming down her face again as the deeper hurt was exposed.

‘We both know I’m not even yours. Now, you won’t even fucking let me look like you.’

Natasha sagged immediately with the weight of your daughter’s words. You saw the horror and shock weave through her furrowed brows. Her mouth fell open.

Your daughter didn’t see any of it.

She crumpled down to the ground in a motion that ached with familiarity. For a moment, you remembered those first moments of her learning to walk. The strongest part of that memory was Natasha’s smile when your daughter had chosen to stumble clumsily over to her.

You didn’t need to look at Natasha to know she’d felt the words like a sucker punch. You crouched down next to your daughter. 

‘You are and have always been the best thing in both of our lives.’ You told her quietly. Your daughter didn’t stop crying. Her arms circled her knees. 

Natasha moved closer, hesitancy laced her movements and you could feel the nerves emanating from her. This was everything she’d ever been scared of. You felt her anticipating more rejection from the person who could hurt her most. Your hand moved to brush the back of her nearest leg soothingly. 

‘Your mom loves you completely.’ You said simply and your daughter’s chin tilted reluctantly towards you. She shook her head disbelievingly. You saw the deep insecurity and wished desperately to remove it.

‘I always thought I might have children.’ You continued carefully, trying to decide what you could share as you spoke. ‘But, for your Mom, that wasn’t even a dream she was allowed to have.’

Your daughter’s face twisted as she tried to process the words. Her eyes flickered uncertainly up at Natasha. You followed her gaze and caught Natasha’s ashy expression. She was still caught, waiting for more rejection.

‘Do you understand?’ You pressed softly, and your free hand reached out to your daughter’s knee. ‘You are better than she could have ever dreamed.’ 

You felt Natasha kneel down beside you too, she took the hand you’d had on her leg and held it in hers. Your fingers interlaced automatically and, when she squeezed it, you felt the cool of her wedding ring against your warm palm.

‘Not to mention, you are already so alike. It’s ridiculous.’ You added, letting your tone get lighter. Somehow, just having them sit closer to each other, reassured you.

Natasha outstretched her free hand, with the previous photos purposefully on display to your daughter.

‘You see that other girl?’ She murmured. Her eyes caught yours intermittently, seeking reassurances You squeezed her hand and gave her a careful smile. 

Your daughter nodded, silent with the expectation that this was important.

‘She’s my family.’ Natasha stumbled. ‘Or the closest I ever had to it.’ She corrected embarrassedly. She took a shaky breath before continuing. 

‘And, that’s why you’re named Yelena. After her.’ 

Yelena stared back at Natasha, surprise and curiosity entirely replacing her earlier hurt.

‘Where is she now?’ She asked immediately, her voice hoarse from crying.

‘I don’t know. But I love her. You remind me of her every day.’ Natasha answered simply.

I know I’m not your Mom, not biologically.’ Natasha’s eyes met yours and you saw a longing in them that you never wanted to see again.

‘But I want to be.’ She admitted softly.

Your daughter’s hand reached out for her mother’s. Things settled inside your heart, a heaviness lifted from the air.

‘Maybe.’ Yelena started, face filling with a small smile. ‘Maybe I could dye my hair red instead.’

Natasha regarded her with a new softness, the corner of her mouth twitched upwards too. They understood each other so much better than they thought. 

You rolled your eyes as you got back to your feet, pulling the pair of them up along with you.

‘Just what I need. Double the trouble.’ You teased, barely able to keep a straight face as Natasha swatted at your arm halfheartedly.

Yelena grinned up at you. Her hand slipped out of yours as she moved to wrap her arms around Natasha’s waist. Her head buried against Natasha’s front. Your daughter was growing up, but she was still so young. 

The tentative tenderness in Natasha’s answering hug was more precious than you could ever explain. Her hand slipped out of yours too as she moved to rub light circles on Yelena’s back.

‘I’m really sorry.’ Yelena mumbled.

‘I know.’ Natasha soothed and she pressed a kiss to her daughter’s hair. 

Yelena moved back a little and you watched her head tilt up as she regarded Natasha. Natasha smiled familiarly back.

‘Whatever colour you want. I’ll help you dye it.’ Natasha promised her quietly. ‘But, you’re already my daughter. You always have been.'

‘I’m yours.’ Yelena affirmed as her rested back against her mother. Natasha’s lips brushed her hair as she held her tight against her.

The world had finally righted itself and you found yourself sighing in relief.

[bossuary]

Neve is painless. Rook is real.

Lucanis likes Neve because she represents what he is desperate to regain. He wants to feel normal, to work and cook and focus on the things he used to enjoy (such as they were) before the Ossuary. He wants capital R Romance, right out of a book.

Most importantly, he wants to get rid of Spite. He wants to pretend that he is the man he was...not this abomination.

Without truly knowing her, Lucanis believes Neve is a pathway to all of that. He's attracted to her, and she to him. Their flirting has an edge, but it's also friendly. She dislikes Spite, and her presence makes Spite disappear.

Neve will tell Lucanis that he's still himself, and that Spite doesn't change that. She will never be the one to reconcile Lucanis with Spite, to get them to accept each other. So, yeah, he gravitates to the charming, flirty, warm person who (through no fault of her own, really) feeds his desire to pretend he's not an abomination.

Even early on, I think he's smart enough to know that accepting Spite is his only option, but he...just... can't. With what tools? Nothing in his life has prepared him to deal with this. Rook does that. When denial tears Lucanis apart, Rook puts him back together with acceptance. Rook accepts the reality of Spite, and deals with it head-on every time.

Neve will remind Lucanis that she's not going anywhere. She'll tell him to open his eyes and look at facts, but she (probably) won't be the one to push him out of his own prison. Lucanis knows this, so Spite knows this, and therefore Spite will not look to Neve for help.

It's important for Lucanis to accept that Spite has changed him. But when it's Rook who says it--for whom Lucanis has developed real feelings, not idealized ones--well, it destroys the fantasy Lucanis clings to so vehemently, the one where he isn't this.

For me, the Lucanis/Rook romance feels the way it does NOT because the writers "preferred" that Lucanis and Neve get together, but because Neve is simply easier for Lucanis to accept. She's easier to talk to, unchallenging. Easy isn't bad! Comfort isn't bad! God knows they both deserve some comfort.

Loving Rook is a profoundly complex choice. There's not a lot of cute ways to work that profundity into sexy banter. It makes sense, then, that Lucanis doesn't have as much dialogue for a romanced Rook as he does with Neve. What he can do is cook, make small gestures. He can, heartbreakingly, tell Rook, over and over, that he doesn't have the words to express how he feels. That's such an awful state, knowing that the person you care about needs to hear words you simply cannot locate. As soon as he does have the words, he shares them.

Rook is real. And real is not easy.

To Lucanis, Rook represents a difficult path to recovery, a path he has to keep choosing to follow, every day. At a time in his life where he is incapable of seeing Spite (and his own PTSD ) as anything but a 'distraction' to shove aside, Rook shows genuine interest in helping Lucanis heal. Rook takes consistent action toward that goal, particularly when it's clear that Lucanis doesn't know how.

Lucanis also has to believe that he's worth the effort, his own and his love's. Neve is great, love her, but I don't see this struggling cynic, this chronic worrier, being very helpful in the self-worth department. No, people in a relationship do not have to perform therapeutic roles. But, partners do have to respect each others' boundaries and needs.

Of course Lucanis goes all-in for Neve, romantically, even while he and Rook are dancing around each other. Accepting how much he loves and cares for Rook means looking at himself the way Rook does. That is so much harder than whatever will happen with Neve.

The fact that Lucanis isn't afraid to pursue Neve, even if Treviso is blighted, tells me that Neve is an indulgence for him. Again, that's not a value judgement. If they treat each other with respect, then the merits of the relationship don't have to fall on whether Lucanis 'heals' as a result. Sometimes not hurting all the time is enough.

BUT. Contrast the ease he feels with Neve with his feelings about Rook:

"When I was afraid to want you..."

That is a powerful admission.

What was he afraid of? The annihilation of neglect, worthlessness, and shame. The awful but knowable pillars of his existence.

Wanting Rook means that Lucanis wants to dismantle everything he knows in pursuit of something he doesn't. To love Rook is to love and accept himself, exactly as he is.

Then...then...Lucanis finds real comfort.

[crazylittlejester]

More about Time and Twi in your modern au pleaaaase 👀

ofc ofc!! i love to talk about these guys :3

- Twilight is Time’s sister’s kid, but she and her husband both passed so Twilight fell into Time’s care when he was 13 months old. Time and Malon are the only parents he’s ever known (he’s always known they’re technically his aunt and uncle, that was never hidden from him, but to him they’re mom and dad and he calls them that). Time and Malon couldn’t have had their own children and were going to be adopting anyway and though initially they’d planned on adopting more than one kid, Twi is an only child

- When he was little, Twi was really just Time’s little buddy. He’d follow him EVERYWHERE and get genuinely very upset if Time didn’t take him with him somewhere, though Malon talking quietly to him and just physically being there was always enough to calm him down again. Daycare did not go very well, the other kids stressed him out too much and he missed Time and Malon so badly he’d sit as close to the door as physically possible and he was just so distressed because he’d been ‘left somewhere’ that after like a month of trying, Time and Malon eventually just kept him on the ranch. Kindergarten also failed miserably, but because the ranch is so far away from things and other people they really really didn’t want to homeschool him because they wanted him to get to interact with other kids so they tried again for first grade and Twi DIDNT spend the entire first day crying so they counted it as a success (though he didn’t say a word to anyone all day, not even the teacher). EVENTUALLY he made a friend (Ilia), but it really did take him a few months before he spoke to anyone at school

- The first time he ever saw the goats Twilight just became OBSESSED with them, and he was too little to do a whole lot to ‘help’ take care of them, but Time would hold him and let him gently pet the goats and call it ‘helping’ so Twi could feel like he did something (ofc as he got older Twi started GENUINELY helping out on the ranch, but little baby Twi got to help by petting goats and it made him happy so Time wasn’t about to take that from him alksdkdk). Time also lifted up baby Twi to pet Epona and Twi just adored her so so much, Time will never be able to not smile at the memory of how big Twi’s eyes got with pure wonder and amazement when he put his little hand on Epona’s nose

- Time is the reason why at eleven years old Twilight was terrified of the muppets. They watched Muppets Most Wanted and Twi (bless his heart) was a little bit scared of it, and Time thought it’d be funny to put a bunch of pictures of evil Kermit all over the house as a joke and Twi ran into one in the dark and well, Time paid for his stupidity by staying up all night with his poor child (Twi’s not scared of the muppets anymore, but his heart WILL start beating faster and he does feel a little anxious if he runs into anything kermit related where he isn’t expecting to)

- Time would not call himself an anxious parent and Malon would very much like to disagree with him because he is SO overly worried about something happening to Twilight after Twilight at nine years old hopped off a horse a little carelessly because he was trying to be cool and ended up tripping, falling, and splitting his head open and poor Time just saw his kid go down and go limp and then there was blood just EVERYWHERE, and another time when Twi was 15 he almost died and Time was the one who was with him then too. Twi doesn’t feel like Time hovers over him by any means, he feels loved and like Time really cares about him, but Time’s genuine fear that Twilight is going to die or get seriously injured in some bizarre accident has led him to check his kid’s location at 3 in the morning (now that Twilight at 21 years old has been living in the apartment with Sky and War for 2 years) to make sure he made it home safely, and he’ll also pace and it drives Malon INSANE (she loves her husband and she understands his anxiety and she really wishes there was something she could do to help him calm down, but HE stresses HER out with the pacing and nervous muttering). Twi is well aware Time has his location, he also has Time and Malon’s and he doesn’t care that they can see where he is. He knows it makes Time feel better to be able to check in on him and also it’s very useful for when he texts and says he’s on his way to the ranch because its a decently long ass drive and then Time and Malon can see how far away he is (Twi also has War and Sky’s locations, and they have his)

- Time paid for Twi’s first tattoo after making him save up for it because he wanted to make sure that Twi was both serious and also going to be financially responsible enough to save for something he wanted while also being able to buy the things he needed, and he let Twi keep the money’d saved for something else. He’s paid for a few others too, and a couple piercings

- Twi really looked like a mini Time growing up. He has a much darker skin tone and brown hair and eyes, but his face shape and like his facial structure are identical to Time’s and the resemblance is so strong people have never doubted Time being his dad (even though he’s technically Twilight’s uncle)

- Twi and Time both have a habit of collecting strays, and they’ll bring them home to Malon and take care of them on the ranch until they can find the animal a nice home or release it back into the wild, though about four dogs now have been kept around because Twi and Time got too attached, as well as a couple cats and one person (War) /hj

[knottedhearts]

The space between us: B.E

a/n: This is part two, if you haven't read part one go read it!!.

The bedroom door stays closed for hours. You sit on the couch, the glow of the TV long since faded, leaving the room dim and heavy with silence. Billie’s words keep echoing in your head—“You’ll never get it.”

You want to give her space, but the ache in your chest grows unbearable. Finally, you stand and walk to the bedroom door, hesitating before knocking softly.

“Billie?”

No response.

You lean against the doorframe. “Look… I know you’re upset, but I can’t just sit out here acting like everything’s fine when it’s not. Can we talk? Please?”

Still nothing.

Sighing, you push the door open. Billie’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. Her dark brown hair falls in messy strands, and her blue eyes are puffy and red from crying.

Your heart twists. “Billie…”

She doesn’t look at you. “What do you want, Y/n?”

“I want to fix this,” you say softly, stepping closer. “I hate fighting with you.”

She shakes her head, her voice trembling. “It’s not just about the fight. It’s about how I feel—like I’m not enough for you. Like no matter what I do, someone else will always have more of your time.”

You sink onto the bed beside her, careful not to touch her yet. “You are enough, Billie. More than enough. I hate that I made you feel like you’re not.”

She finally looks at you, her eyes filled with hurt. “Then why does it feel like you’re always pulling away? Like you’d rather be anywhere but here?”

Your throat tightens. “I’m not pulling away—I promise I’m not. I just… I guess I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you. Luke is my friend, yeah, but you’re my everything. And I’ve done a terrible job making sure you know that.”

Her lip quivers, and a tear slips down her cheek. “I just need to feel like I’m your priority,” she whispers. “Not second place. Not someone you come home to when you’re done having fun somewhere else.”

You reach out, gently brushing the tear away with your thumb. “You are my priority. I swear. I’ll prove it to you—whatever it takes. I never meant to make you feel like you were second.”

She closes her eyes, leaning into your touch as more tears fall. “I hate feeling this way. I hate being this insecure.”

“It’s not insecurity, Billie. It’s love. You care so much that it hurts, and I get that now. I should’ve gotten it sooner.”

For the first time since the argument started, her walls seem to crack. She lets out a shaky breath and finally leans into you, burying her face in your neck.

“I’m sorry too,” she murmurs. “For yelling. For overreacting. I just… I need you.”

You hold her tighter, your arms wrapping around her like she might slip away if you let go. “I need you too. And I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

The two of you sit there in the dim light, the silence no longer heavy but comforting. The storm has passed, leaving behind something fragile but whole—something worth holding onto.

@d14n4ol < tag that asked for part 2.

[peachhcs]

Samy meeting will’s teammate for the first time

another semi different iteration of samy meting some of will’s teammates when they’re in detroit for a game and she drives out to see them

au masterlist

“hiii,” the girl grins when she sees her boyfriend coming out of the locker room. the blonde quickly grins, already opening his arms to wrap her into a hug. “hi baby,” he smiles.

“sorry you guys lost, but you played well like always,” samy pecked his cheek and the boy smiled despite the disappointing loss.

“it’s okay, i’m just glad to see you for a second,” he hummed even though the time they had was not nearly enough for either of their liking. the sharks were due in winnipeg tomorrow meaning will’s bus was leaving in less than an hour.

“me too. how’s your week been?” the couple tried making the most of the now 50 minutes they had together.

“it’s been okay. busy with hockey,” will said not to complain because he’d never get sick of playing, just tired with how much they’ve been doing recently. samy nodded, “make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“i am, don’t worry. make sure you’re taking care of yourself too,” will poked her arm and she flushed.

“yeah, i am. don’t worry either.”

“how’s your week been now that soccer’s over?” will turned the conversation to her because he liked it a lot better when they were talking about her and not him and his things.

“it’s been a little weird, but we still have offseason stuff, so not too different. it is nice to slow down for a bit though,” the brunette grinned, leaning against the wall now. “i’m glad it’s been good for you. you deserve a break after the very successful season,” will chuckled.

“hey pup. hey hughes,” will eklund had come out of the locker room, a bright smile on his face.

“hey eklund. good to see you again,” samy offered a polite hug to the older blonde.

“you too. sorry you had to see us lose,” eklund frowned.

“it’s alright. you guys still played well,” the girl said. behind eklund came tom, jack, fabian, tyler, macklin, and henry. they caught sight of the three standing along the wall and made their way over to offer a hi to samy.

“hey little hughes,” tom greeted her in another friendly hug—his new nickname for her that everyone seemed to call her.

“oh shit, you’re hughes! pup’s girlfriend!” fabian exclaimed and the girl flushed when the other guys’ faces lit up at the revelation.

“that’d be me. it’s good to meet you all,” she grinned.

“we hear a lot about you,” henry teased a bit and eyed will. he avoided their gazes in hopes of avoiding the blush creeping up his neck.

“i’ve heard i’m the talk of the locker room sometimes,” samy raised her eyebrow.

“not in a bad way, don’t worry. we just like to poke at our rookie and figure out more about his life. it seems like you’re the one who makes him smile all the time whenever he’s looking at his phone,” toffoli teased the younger boy by roughing up his shoulder. samy watched her boyfriend’s entire face turn beet red, but she thought his blush was cute.

“well i’m glad to hear i’m making him smile that hard,” samy squeezed will’s hand.

“we heard from pup too that you just won the women’s soccer cup?” jack wondered and the girl quickly beamed. she’d never get tired of talking about her recent win.

“yeah, i did. my team and i won the ncaa championship for the first time in a few years.”

“that’s wicked cool. congrats, by the way,” jack smiled.

“thank you. oh, my roommate would want me to tell you guys this, but we loved that holiday inflatables video. best thing ever. she was laughing for hours after,” samy added which had all the guys smiling.

“ah, thank you. it got a lot of hits. we’re thinking about making rapping our day job,” fabian said and samy giggled.

“i mean, i think you guys could go far. or make another music video at least,” the boys agreed, appreciating her words. she glanced back at will who playfully shook his head.

they managed to keep her talking for at least another fifteen minutes. whenever samy got talking she talked no matter who it was. it was feature will loved and hated sometimes. he loved that she could quickly get along with any of his teammates, but it also cut short the time they had together.

he glanced at his phone again to check the time now seeing that there only 30ish minutes minutes left. as much as he loved seeing more of his teammates and girlfriend get along, will wanted a bit more time alone before he had to leave, so he eyed macklin in hopes that he’d help drag the others away.

the younger brunette took the hint fairly quickly, “hey guys, we should probably make sure we have all of our things before we head out.”

“shit, yeah, you’re right. well, it was good seeing you again,” eklund smiled, waving bye to samy. she waved to all of the players as they went back down the hallway to recheck the locker room for their things. her gaze fell back to will.

“they’re so nice,” she grinned.

“for you, yeah,” he laughed. they were never as behaved in the locker room but the blonde was grateful they didn’t say anything stupid in front of her.

“well either way, i think you have a good team. they definitely love you,” she squeezed his hand again which will reciprocated as he squeezed back.

“i agree. i like them too.”

the couple talked a bit more until will figured he needed to leave and double check he had everything before getting on the bus. the two exchanged a loving, tight hug and a sweet kiss o the lips.

“i’ll miss you,” will hummed.

“i’ll miss you too. get to winnipeg safely,” samy squeezed the boy’s biceps which made the boy flush anytime she squeezed a part of his body that weren’t his hands.

“you get back to ann arbor safely. text me, okay?” the boy made her promise and she quickly agreed.

“i promise, i will. i love you.”

“i love you. ugh, i wish we had more time,” will frowned, not wanting to let go quite yet.

“me too. fifty minutes is not enough time at all, but i’ll see you super soon, okay?”

the hockey player nodded, reluctantly letting go. samy pecked his lips one last time before walking away first because if she didn’t, will would never let her go.

[episodes-ff]

Aftershock

Terry

Sitting up against the wall as I stared across at the door to our room, I waited in peril prepared to explain myself and apologize to Anaya. What I did was beyond the pail of disrespect and I want the chance to express how extremely disappointed I am in myself. Rubbing my eyes as I fought sleep for the umpteenth time to endure her wrath, I looked outside and watched the sun rising with the morning breeze. Hearing the door to the bedroom creaking open, I connected with her beautiful, red puffy eyes and watched as she and Maya exited the door. "Ny, ple-" Shoving her hand up, she angrily stormed past me into the kitchen to prepare some food for Maya as I blew a frustrated breath and shook my head. Taking a whiff of myself, I shuddered at the must entering my nose before going into the room to shower.

Finishing the much needed shower, I changed into a quick t-shirt and sweats before hurrying down to the kitchen. Halting in my steps as I spotted my mom and dad sipping their morning coffee as Anaya fed baby girl, I swallowed the major lump in my throat. "Good morning, everybody. Um, Anaya, can I speak with you for a moment?" "No need, your family is waiting on you in the living room." She spat viciously as she let out a vile chuckle and handed Maya to my dad; storming past me, she made sure to bump me hard on the way up. Knitting my brows in confusion, I glanced over to the living room to see Bree and I's son, Trey perched quietly on the couch on his tablet. "Anaya, wait!"

Running up the stairs behind her, I made it to the bedroom to see her sitting on the bed in tears. Dropping to my knees in front of her, I gently removed her hands from her face as she whined feebly trying to shove me away. "Get the fuck off of me, Terrence! You make me sick! Move!" "Please just let me explain, Naya." "Why?! Why would I want to sit here and listen to you talk about fucking this bitch and getting her pregnant? Cheating on me and disgracing our marriage? Hiding it from me for two years? Why are you trying to put me through this trauma?!" She ranted sobbing.

Lowering my head in her lap, I shook my head wrapping my arms around her waist. "There's no amount of words I can say to express how fucking sorry I am, baby." "You're not sorry, Terry. And you don't love me. This?! This isn't love, not in the slightest." "It's the worst mistake I've ever made, and I'm so ashamed that I ever hurt you like this. I know you don't want my word, but you have my actions that I will make this right." I pleaded crying as she hiccuped holding her face. "Your actions have done enough, I just need to be away from you right now, Terry. This all just hurts too much." Nodding as my heart shattered, I kissed her forehead gently before making my way back down to tend to the kids.

Anaya

After recovering my nerves and feelings, I took a relaxing enough shower and got dressed. Pulling my phone and wallet along with my purse, I slowly made my way back to the kitchen. "Oh, you look pretty dear. Where are you headed?" Miss Teresa asked as Terry looked up from holding Maya to stare at me. "Thank you, Mama. I just need to clear my head for a little while. I'll be back." "Understandable, sweetheart. Take your time." Nodding, I hugged her close before grabbing the rental keys and leaving the house. Sitting in the car for a little while as it warmed from the winter chill, I sighed before turning off my location and driving off.

Finally making it to the cemetery, I grabbed the fresh poinsettias as I trekked through to my desired spot. Making contact with her headstone, I set the plant down and thought of what to say. "Merry Christmas, Mommy. I know you would be so proud of your grandbaby right now. She's so smart and bright, reminds me a lot of you. She definitely has your personality." I smiled reminiscing on Maya's sassy side before I felt my emotions kicking in. "Mommy, please! Help me through this pain! I don't know how much more I can take. It just hurts so much." I cried thinking on all this drama. "Anaya?" Looking up, I wiped my tears as my gaze met with his. "Hi, Eric." I said addressing Terry's best friend as he smiled. "Well I'll be damned. When did y'all get into town?" "Um, we got in yesterday." "That's wassup, that's wassup! Where's my godbaby with her adorable little smile? I be seeing her here and there on FaceTime." "With her bitch ass father." I accidentally spat with venom as he looked up confused.

"You good?" He asked concerned as I nodded. "Uh, yea, my bad. It's just a lot happening right now." "Hey, it's no biggie. Everything ok with you and Tee?" "No comment right now." "My fault my fault, well I know y'all will get through whatever is going on. That man loves you to death as do you." He added making me scoff quietly. "Yea, well I'll see you around, E. I'll have him FaceTime you with Maya later so you can see her now." "That's a bet, thank you. You be safe, now." "You as well." Parting ways, I shook my head before finishing my conversation with my mom and heading to the car. Feeling a bit of hunger kick in, I groaned stopping at the store to get a light snack. I haven't even been able to hold down any food because of all this stress, and my appetite has been gone since I saw that bitch standing in the foyer with that little boy.

Shaking my head as I held back my evil thoughts, I strolled the aisles in a hurry for a snack when I ran into a hard figure. "Ohhh shit, my bad. I didn't even- Wait a minute?" The handsome voice soothed before helping me up. Dusting myself off, I looked up and smiled seeing him standing in the flesh. "Rome?" "Yeaaaaa, Anaya right?" "Yea." I blushed as he kissed my hand. "You know, I was waiting on that call but it never came. What have you been up to?" "Uhhh, well, I became a mommy and wife, and we moved to Miami." "Ahhh damn. I knew you weren't gonna stay free for long. Who's the lucky guy?" "I'm not sure if you remember Terrence." "Wait, that belligerent knucklehead from the club?" He asked as I sheepishly nodded. "Yea, going on five years married, seven in a relationship." I admitted flashing my ring. "I guess you like what you like." He casted shaking his head as I nodded. "Well, I guess that's my cue. It was nice seeing you again, beautiful." "It doesn't have to be a goodbye." I perked up reaching forward. "May I?" I asked at his shocked but smug gaze. "Go ahead." Smirking, I smoothly pulled his phone from his pocket and typed my phone number before sliding it back in his hand. "Call me sometime." "Most definitely."

****

Walking into the dark house, I set my purse on the kitchen table before reaching into the refrigerator to grab a water. "I know you're there, what the fuck do you need?" I sighed turning to face what I knew was him on the adjacent love seat. Finally flickering the lamp, he leaned forward into his lap as I watched him wiping more tears from his tired face. "Can we please just talk, Anaya? Why did you turn off your location?" "Don't worry about that. Where is Maya?" "Anaya." "Where the fuck is my child, Terrence?" Scoffing, he shook his head. "She's at the Christmas parade with my parents." "And your son?" "She came and got him before my parents left. Anaya please? Can we talk?" "I have nothing to say to you unless it pertains to my fucking child." I chuckled bitterly. "She's not just yours, Anaya." "Oh trust me, I know. Thank you for your services, soldier." I spat giving him a round of applause.

"Stop doing that." He gritted standing up. "Doing what? Acknowledging you in your truth?! We get it, Terry. It was a funky ass 'mistake' and you're oh so damn sorry. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that information, huh?! You still cheated, with Bree of all fucking people. And a fucking child is here as a result, has been for three years now." "Anaya!" "NO! You're done talking and frankly, so the fuck am I! I'm filing for separation in the morning." "WHAT?! Baby, no!" He shook walking over but I stopped him in his tracks. "Don't even. You've made it plain that I'm not your baby. We not about to sit up and continue to treat you like you're such a loving, doting husband when you obviously don't want to be one. I'm not discussing this shit anymore with you, Terry. You've crossed one too many lines, and I'll be damned if you cross me again. I'm filing in the morning and that's it, end of discussion." I clarified as he fell to his knees.

Tags: @violetmuses @theereina @kaylaahisthebestest- @mymindisneverhere @simpledopeme @believeinthefireflies95 @brisunique @madxlov3 @casualsludgeshoetoad @mauvecherie-writes @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kumkaniudaku @geneziesm @megamindsecretlair @goldenjasssy @vivaalenaa @playgurlxoxo @ghettogirly @ranikyani @luuvprincess @perfectlyimperfectme @tbmotw @comfortzonequeen @melanin-honeyy @qdancer22 @strawberrymoon45 @luckygirlszn @kindofaintrovert @secretlifeoofmarpessa @cmbmjbfan @summwerella @ihateyallniggas @rebelrel0987 @cheracherachera @bhristpher @cocooned-butterfly @theblessedcap @deijalee @catha2003 @magik22 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @pinkbuzzlightyrrr @kimuzostar @j0joworld @justicefordeanthomas @liv10002 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @brattyfics @pocketsizedpanther

[steddieas-shegoes]

still believe

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'santa'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated g | 985 words | no cw | tags: established relationship, mall santa, fluff

🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻

The line is wrapped around the building, which is exactly what Steve warned him about.

Steve insisted they go the first week that Santa was at the mall, but Eddie insisted they wait. It didn’t feel right to see Santa before December even started.

Then they got so busy with hockey practices and the baby and-

“How much longer?” Rory asks. She isn’t quite groaning yet, but Eddie knows she doesn’t have much more patience.

Steve is bouncing Sawyer in his arms, raising his brows at Eddie. The I told you so doesn’t need to be said out loud for him to know that’s what he’s thinking.

He tried to time it perfectly between Steve getting off of work, Sawyer’s next feeding time, and their own dinner time, but now…

They’re looking at a catastrophic failure on his part.

Sawyer’s only four months old, and he’s on a very strict schedule. He’s a perfect baby, sleeps almost entirely through the night, only cries when he needs to be changed, and loves when Rory holds him. But if he doesn’t eat on time? Everyone suffers.

They have at least an hour in this line still and they have roughly 20 minutes before Sawyer’s due for a bottle. They have them in the diaper bag, of course, enough formula already measured out for two bottles and a bottle of water just in case.

“Can’t we go to another Santa?” She asks when no one answers her.

“What do you mean? This is the only Santa.” Steve stops bouncing as he speaks, and Eddie feels sweaty all of a sudden. They both thought Rory still believed in Santa. Sure, she was a little old for it, but last year she’d gotten into a fight with a kid at school because she still believed.

“Dad.” Rory gives him one of her be serious looks. “Every mall has one. The real Santa has to stay in the North Pole.”

Steve’s shoulders relax, but Eddie feels another moment of panic. Rory does still believe in Santa. It’s fine, it’s actually great. But a small part of him hoped that maybe she’d just casually stopped believing. Maybe then it would be easier for Steve to accept that their little girl isn’t so little anymore.

“Right,” Steve smiles at her. “But we’re already in line here, so we should just stay.”

Rory sighs, but doesn’t argue.

Sawyer coos in Steve’s arms. Steve smiles down at him and bounces him again.

“You can’t wait to meet Santa, huh buddy?” Steve asks him.

Sawyer’s way too young to understand what he’s asking, but he still gives a gummy smile. He’s got Chrissy’s nose, but it’s a perfect combination with Eddie’s everything else. They all joked that Eddie might as well have carried and birthed him for how much he looks like him already.

“Does Santa already know that Sawyer’s been good?” Rory asks.

“Babies are always on the nice list until they can walk and talk. Then, they have to behave just like all the bigger kids,” Steve explains. “Santa already knows Sawyer’s good.”

“But what if Sawyer was bad?”

“Well, do you think he’s been bad?” Eddie asks, taking Sawyer from Steve to give him a break.

“He did puke on my shirt last week,” Rory’s face twists with disgust. “And he pooped through his diaper that one time and it got on the car seat.”

Eddie’s doing his best not to laugh. “Those are accidents, though. It doesn’t make him a bad kid.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Rory sighs. She looks around the people in front of them as they take a few steps forward. “Maybe we can skip Santa this year? Since he knows we’ve both been good.”

Steve shakes his head. “We wanted to get a family picture, remember?”

“But it’s not even the real Santa!” Rory exclaims, loud enough that the people in front of them turn and scowl at them. Steve sends them an apologetic look and kneels down so he can get on Rory’s level.

“Listen green bean, you remember when you were really little and thought this was the real Santa?” She nods. “A lot of these kids still think that and we can’t ruin it for them. Plus, they’re handing out candy canes, look!”

One of the employees dressed as an elf is walking down the line offering candy canes. A perfect distraction for kids growing impatient in line.

Sawyer gurgles and then lets out a tiny whine. Eddie checks the time on the phone and gives Steve a look.

Steve wordlessly opens the diaper bag to get the bottle ready and Rory rocks on her feet as she waits for the elf to bring her a candy cane. Eddie pokes at Sawyer’s cheek, and his tummy, and his arm, making him let out little bursts of noises that are nearly giggles.

“Not too much longer,” Eddie whispers to the baby in his arms, hopeful that he’s right.

****

Nearly an hour later, they have Sawyer propped in Santa’s lap and Rory standing next to him, talking a mile a minute about her list. They manage to get a great picture– a small miracle considering Sawyer was due for a nap– and head out, not wanting to hold up the line more than it already has been.

As they leave, Rory tugs on Eddie’s jacket and comes to a stop. Steve is too busy babbling at Sawyer to notice.

“Daddy, I lied,” she says and Eddie’s gut clenches. “I know Santa isn’t real. But dad loves Christmas and it would hurt his feelings. And now Sawyer can believe in Santa so I have to pretend.”

Eddie loves this girl. She has always been wise beyond her years, which is why her believing in Santa at this age seemed ludicrous to him.

He hugs her tight and kisses the top of her head. “You’re a good kid, little one.”

[gold-onthe-inside]

make the yuletide gay

who? spencer reid (s3) x postgrad!reader

summary: the year's been hard, and the holidays hurt, and spencer realises maybe this christmas, comfort precedes joy. based on a request by @matthew-gray-gubler-lover: I would love one were i am down and it doesn't feel like Christmas to me (because it doesn't this year) and Spencer cheers me up, thank you.

word count: 939 (so close to 1k)

content warnings: unhealthy family dynamics, reader is trying to emotionally cut-off from her family, just all around angst and a lot of spencer cuddles

You had come back early from winter break, a day or two after Thanksgiving, using your key to get into Spencer's apartment while he was still on a case, somewhere in New Jersey. You hadn't just broken in, obviously, texting him that you were coming back early. As neutral your message had seemed to you, Spencer was much too good at his job not to know something was wrong. He'd called you from the hotel after and asked, to which you had said you'd tell him when he came home - all the while trying not to cry from the earnest care in his tone. But this wasn't how you wanted to tell him, a state between the two of you, over the phone, when he had a serial killer to catch.

It's not the first time your politics had tainted your holidays, the distance between you and your family helping temper your relationship with them. You'd made a plan and everything to keep your sanity for winter break, had mantras in your pocket to use to regulate yourself, breathing exercises, but while your degree is in psychology, theirs seems to be in pissing you off.

Spencer had done his best to make you feel better, had told you how this was normal, had let you talk about it over and over again without losing his patience, had distracted you when you didn't want to think about it, and soon enough, November was in the past. December was fast approaching and the Halloween decorations came down. Orange, purple and black were replaced with green, red  and white. Your phone buzzed with messages from parents, cousins, siblings, asking if you were coming back home for Christmas and you'd let them go unreplied, trying to hold onto joy.

Christmas wasn't as important to Spencer as Halloween, but he knew how much you loved the holiday. He'd spent hours with Penelope on Pinterest to find you the perfect gift, and even though he couldn't get a real fir tree into his apartment (at least not without being kicked out by his landlord), he'd bought a pretty good plastic one you could put up and decorate. You were being a total sport about it, even though your heart wasn't in it, because he was trying and if that wasn’t a sign that he loved you then what was?

The two of you spent Christmas Eve decorating the small tree that you really did love, wrapping tinsel and lights and hanging baubles on the branches and cooked together and there was more love here in Spencer's apartment than you'd ever felt at home, even though you ached for it still.

Christmas Day was so much harder - you'd accepted a video call with your family, watching from a screen as they unwrapped presents, your younger cousins ripping apart wrapping paper to reveal Lego sets and firetruck and dolls and you were so close to crying right there and then. "We miss you," they cried in unison and you'd sent them a flying kiss before closing the laptop, curling into your pillow with blankets that smelled like your boyfriend.

He'd given you the apartment that morning, letting you attend the call alone, because that's what you had wanted, opting to buy groceries instead, and he'd had the brilliant idea to bake cookies on Christmas Day, splurging on Christmas themed cookie cutters, almost noon when he unlocked the door, bursting at the seams with hope. It was too quiet though, the presents untouched under the tree.

He set the bags down in the kitchen, leaving his keys beside them, and checked the bedroom, finding you curled up in the foetal position, tear tracks on your cheek, having fallen asleep with your laptop beside you. He doesn’t know whether or not to wake you up, trying his best to anticipate your needs. What he wants to do is call up your parents and give them an earful for doing this to you, for not seeing the amazing, wonderful, kind person you are. Instead, he sat beside you, tucking the blankets around you, letting you sleep for an hour before waking you up with warm cocoa.

His question goes unasked, but it's the elephant in the room as you sipped the cocoa, feeling a little less hollow and numb as warm chocolate soothed your upset. "Am I making a huge mistake?" you asked instead, looking at him and he shook his head.

"You're making the best decisions you can," Spencer said and when you leaned into him, he wrapped his arm around you, lips automatically finding your temple. "You are so loved," he assured you, "and by nobody more than me."

"What if I lose them forever?" you asked his shoulder, fear creeping into your tone.

"They should be more worried about losing you," he said, a little bitterly, but it was honest, and he rubbed your arm.

You crushed your face into his chest, wanting to cry again but you had no more tears left. "I just want this year to be over," you mumbled as Spencer rubbed your back, hugging you tighter.

Spencer leaned down and kissed the top of your head, a wave of protectiveness washing over him. The thought of you in so much pain broke his heart more than anything else ever had. He had never felt so angry towards anybody as he did towards your family for making you feel this way.  "It will be," he murmured, holding you against him. "And next year is going to be better. I promise." He just kept holding you. The cookies and presents could wait.

[capquinn]

Does Quinn go overboard and spoil the kids with giant presents for Christmas? I know they probably will always have more than the average kid for everything but he seems very levelheaded and doesn’t want to raise his kids in a mindset of getting anything and everything they want just because their dad is Quinn.

Nah I don't think he would. Quinn strikes me as the kind of dad who’d be thoughtful and intentional about the way he approaches Christmas — and parenting in general, honestly.

He’d never want his kids to grow up with the mindset that they can have everything just because they're able to. He’d make sure they understand the value of what they have, the meaning behind the holidays, and the joy of giving as much as receiving.

Sure, there’d be the fun, flashy toys they’d been talking about for months — the Bluey playhouse Bug wouldn’t stop mentioning or the Paw Patrol set Cub kept pointing to in commercials — but there’d always be a layer of thoughtfulness underneath.

The bigger gifts would have purpose beyond just the joy of unwrapping. Things like a soccer net for the backyard, something that would get them outside as a family on sunny afternoons, or maybe new skates so they could practice gliding across the ice together. It wouldn’t just be about stuff but about creating moments. The kind that turn into memories.

Even the smaller gifts would have meaning. A new set of paints and brushes for Bug, who’d been fascinated by colours lately, or blocks for Cub to stack and tumble over as he giggles at his little triumphs. Every gift, big or small, would be tied to what makes his kids light up, encouraging their interests, creativity, and, most importantly, time spent together.

Because for Quinn, it’s not just about giving his kids everything they want. It’s about teaching them the joy of shared experiences, of giving thoughtfully, and of appreciating the moments that come with each gift — whether it’s their giggles during a backyard soccer game, Bug’s serious little face as she paints, or Cub’s excitement as he crawls around the inside of the soccer net after the ball. For him, those are the true gifts.

And when they’re old enough, he’d absolutely instill the act of giving back. Every December, he’d encourage the kids to go through their old toys, explaining how there are children who might not have as much as they do. It wouldn’t be a chore but more of a tradition, one that builds empathy and kindness.

He’d make it feel special, not like giving something up but like sharing something wonderful. Bug would sit cross-legged on her bedroom floor, surrounded by stacks of toys she’s outgrown, while Cub sits nearby, babbling curiously at the scene.

Quinn crouches beside them, his tone gentle and encouraging. “This one could make another kid really happy,” he’d say, holding up a well-loved doll, his warm smile reassuring Bug as she carefully considers.

Bug nods after a moment, placing the doll into the donation box with the careful determination of a little girl who’s taking her job very seriously. Cubby, always eager to mimic his big sister, babbles excitedly and reaches for a toy car to drop in, though it’s not quite one for the box yet.

“It’s like sharing Christmas magic,” Quinn adds, ruffling Cubby’s soft hair as Bug beams at his words.

When the box is full, he’d scoop Cub up and take Bug by the hand, letting them come along to drop it off at the second hand toy drive.

He's just the type of dad who always gives his kids a magical holiday while keeping their feet firmly planted on the ground, and honestly? It’s impossible not to love him even more for it.

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 28

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28

Pairing : Y/n x dealer!Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mention of guns, description of murder, description of shooting, description of dead body, arguments

The room felt suffocating after we watched the footage. It was as if all the air had been sucked out, leaving nothing but a heavy, oppressive silence. My hands were trembling, still resting on the keyboard where I’d paused the video. The image of Vince standing over Danny’s lifeless body was frozen on the screen, but it was seared into my mind.

I forced myself to breathe, in and out, but the weight in my chest wouldn’t ease. Turning to look at the others, I saw their reactions mirrored my own. Chris stood behind me, his face pale and his jaw clenched tight enough to crack. His eyes were glued to the screen, a storm of rage and disbelief swirling in their depths.

Willow sat on the edge of the couch, her head bowed and her hands clasped together like she was praying. She looked like she might be sick. Nate was the only one moving, pacing back and forth across the room like he was trying to outrun the images we’d just witnessed.

No one said anything for a long time. The silence was unbearable, but none of us seemed to know how to break it. Finally, I closed down the computer, shutting off the horrific scene but not the emotions that came with it.

“That bastard” Nate spat, stopping his pacing to glare at the now-blank screen. “He didn’t even hesitate.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “He-he just killed him. Like it was nothing.”

Chris turned away from the screen, rubbing a hand over his face.

Willow let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how you guys deal with this. How you’ve been dealing with it. This is..this is so much worse than I thought.”

“It’s not just Danny” I said, my voice trembling but steadying with each word. “If we’ve seen this, imagine how much worse Vince has done that we don’t know about. You could’ve ended up like this too Chris. He’s dangerous, and if we don’t do something, he’ll keep getting away with it.”

Chris moved closer to me, his voice low. “I know this is a lot to take in, but you’re right. We can’t stop now. This is our chance to take him down.”

I looked at him, my chest tightening at the pain and determination in his expression. He was trying to be strong, but I could see the cracks forming beneath the surface.

“We need to talk about what happens next” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “For now, Chris, it’s not safe for you to leave this place. Vince has people everywhere, and if they see you, it’s game over. You have to stay here.”

Chris looked up at me, his jaw tightening. “You’re saying I just sit here while the rest of you go back and forth, putting yourselves at risk? I can’t-”

“You have to.” I interrupted firmly. “If Vince realizes you’re alive, all of this falls apart. He’ll come after you, and he won’t hesitate. You staying here isn’t just about your safety, it’s about giving us a chance to end this.”

Willow nodded in agreement. “Y/n’s right. This place is out of the way, and no one knows you’re here. It’s the safest option, for now.”

Chris exhaled. “And what about the rest of you?“

We’ll be careful” Nate said, his voice firm. “We’ll keep our heads down, do what we need to do, and get out. Besides..” He hesitated, his eyes narrowing in thought. “When the rest of the Crimson Cartel sees that footage, sees what Vince did to Danny, they’ll turn on him. You know how much Danny meant to everyone.”

Chris nodded slowly, his expression darkening. “None of the guys in the footage were part of Crimson. They weren’t our people. But Danny.” His voice broke slightly, and he looked away.

“Everyone loved him” I said softly, reaching for Chris’s hand. “When they find out Vince is behind his death, they won’t stand by him. They’ll turn.”

Chris finally nodded, his grip tightening on my hand. “Fine. I’ll stay. But promise me you’ll all be careful out there. I can’t-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I just can’t lose anyone else.”

“You won’t” I said firmly. “We’ve got this. We’re going to end this.”

Willow stood up, brushing off her hands. “Well, if that’s settled, I’m making a list of what we’ll need for the back and forth trips. Food, clothes, maybe even disguises for when we’re in Boston.”

Chris snorted softly, the faintest trace of a smile appearing. “Disguises? What, are we pulling a heist now?”

Willow smirked. “If the shoe fits.”

The mood lightened just a little, and for the first time in what felt like hours, I saw a hint of hope in Chris’s eyes. We weren’t out of the woods yet, but at least we had a plan. And as long as we stuck together, I believed we could see it through.

The first rays of sunlight started peeking through the curtains, and the exhaustion of the night finally caught up with all of us. Willow was the head to bed, stretching her arms over her head and muttering something about getting at least a couple of hours of sleep before her brain gave out.

“I think we all need it” I said, standing up. My legs felt like jelly, and my head pounded from the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through me all night.

Willow and Nate had already disappeared into their rooms, leaving Chris and I standing in the dimly lit living room. I placed a hand on his arm. “You should sleep too. We’ll figure everything out in the morning, or, well, later today.”

He gave me a faint smile, brushing his thumb across my knuckles before heading toward our room.

Once he was gone, I set an alarm for 10am and followed him toward our room, flopping onto the bed. My body was begging for rest, but my mind raced with everything that lay ahead.

By now, I’d practically abandoned my college routine. The thought of catching up on my workload made my chest tighten with anxiety, but I clung to the hope that my professor would understand. Surely, with the information I had to share, he’d see why I’d been so preoccupied.

Before I could spiral too far, I made a mental note to ask Nate in the morning if he wanted to drive back to Boston with me.

I stared at the ceiling for a long moment before finally closing my eyes. The sun was almost fully risen now, casting a soft glow through the window, but for the first time in days, I let myself give in to the pull of sleep.

-

The buzz of my alarm startled me awake, yanking me from a restless sleep. For a moment, I stared at the ceiling, disoriented, until everything from the night before came rushing back. I groaned softly, rolling over to check my phone. It was already 10:15. I’d snoozed my alarm more times than I realized.

Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The reflection in the mirror was a harsh reminder of the toll this week had taken, dark circles ringed my eyes, and my hair was a mess. I looked like I’d been through hell, and in a way, I had.

By the time I made my way into the kitchen, the smell of coffee greeted me. Nate was already there, leaning against the counter with a steaming mug in hand. He looked equally worn out, his usual energy dulled by the weight of the situation.

“Morning” he muttered, his voice rough.

“Morning” I replied, grabbing a mug and pouring myself a cup. The first sip was bliss, the caffeine slowly tricking my body into a false sense of alertness.

We stood in silence for a while, the events of the past 24 hours hanging heavily in the air. It was Nate who finally broke it. “What’s the plan today?”

“I need to head back to Boston” I said. “I left my laptop at home, and I have to figure out what to say to my professor. At this rate, I’ve probably fallen so far behind, but... I don’t know, maybe if I explain some of this, he’ll cut me some slack.”

“You think you’ll tell him everything?” Nate asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Not everything,” I said quickly. “Just enough to make it clear that I’ve been dealing with something serious. I’ll frame it around the legal side of things, like how I’m trying to help someone navigate.. a dangerous situation.”

Nate nodded, considering my words. “I’ll drive you back” he offered.

“You sure? You’ve barely slept.”

“So have you” he countered. “Besides, it’s better if we stick together for now. You don’t need to be traveling alone, not with everything that’s going on.”

I gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

As we got ready to leave, I grabbed my burner phone from the counter and hesitated. “I think I’ll leave this here” I said, placing it back down. “I don’t want to risk bringing it into the city.”

“Smart move” Nate said, already heading for the door. I made sure I had the USB in my pocket and followed him out.

The drive back to Boston started in silence, both of us too drained to muster small talk. I stared out the window, watching the trees blur into the cityscape as we approached the familiar streets. The normalcy of it all felt jarring. How could everything look so unchanged when my entire world had been flipped upside down?

“You doing okay?” Nate asked, his voice breaking through my thoughts.

I turned to him, offering a faint smile. “Define ‘okay.’”

He smirked faintly, his eyes still on the road. “Fair point.”

“Thanks for driving me” I said after a beat. 

“Don’t mention it” he said. “You’ve been holding up pretty damn well through all this, you know.”

I let out a dry laugh. “If by ‘holding up,’ you mean barely keeping it together, then sure.”

Nate glanced at me briefly, a rare softness in his expression. “You’re tougher than you think. Not many people would have stuck around, let alone tried to help us the way you have.”

The unexpected compliment made my cheeks warm. “Thanks, Nate. That means a lot coming from you.”

When we finally pulled up to my house, I felt a strange mix of relief and unease. It had only been over 12 hours since I’d been home, and stepping out of the car felt surreal, like I was returning to a life that no longer fit.

“I’ll check in with my professor and try get a meeting with him today” I told Nate as I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Do you want to meet me back here at 5pm?”

“Yeah” he said with a nod. “We can head back then.”

“Alright. Stay safe, okay?”

“You too.”

I watched him drive off before turning to face the front door of my house. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside. I made my way to the kitchen, where my normal phone sat abandoned on the counter. Picking it up, I unlocked the screen, only to be met with a flurry of missed notifications. Emails, texts, and calendar reminders from college flooded my home screen, each one a stark reminder of how much I’d let slip through the cracks.

Ignoring the overwhelming wave of responsibility, I opened Google and searched for my professor's office phone number. Professor Hawkins was one of the few people I trusted, someone who had always been approachable and understanding. If anyone could offer guidance without prying too much, it was him.

I hesitated for a moment, my thumb hovering over his office number. What would I even say? How could I explain everything without giving too much away?

Taking a deep breath, I tapped the number and held the phone to my ear. It rang twice before a familiar, warm voice answered.

“Professor Hawkins speaking.”

“Hi, Professor. It’s Y/n Y/l/n..” I said, trying to steady my voice.

“Y/n! I was wondering when I’d hear from you. You’ve been absent from class for over a week, is everything alright?”

“Sort of..” I said, my words faltering. “I’ve been dealing with.. a complicated situation. I was hoping I could meet with you to explain and maybe get some guidance on how to move forward. It’s related to my studies, well, partly, but it’s also personal.”

There was a pause on the other end, and I held my breath, worried he might dismiss me outright.

“Of course” he said finally. “I have some time this afternoon. Would 2pm work for you?”

Relief flooded through me. “Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you so much professor.”

“Not a problem, Y/n. I’ll see you in my office at 2.”

As I hung up, I leaned against the counter, exhaling deeply. This was a step forward, a small one, but forward nonetheless.

I grabbed my laptop from my desk and slipped it into my bag along with a notebook. My 

After double checking that I had everything I needed, I locked up the house and headed to campus.

Chris’s POV

The morning light seeped through the thin curtains of the Airbnb, casting a golden hue across the room, I sat up, rubbing my face to shake off the remnants of sleep. My mind was still clouded by the events of last night. But now, there was an absence I couldn’t ignore. Y/n wasn’t next to me. I got up and made my way to the living room.

“Morning” Willow’s voice broke the silence as she stepped into the room, a mug of coffee in hand. She was already dressed, looking far more put together than I felt.

“Morning? It’s 2pm..” I muttered, glancing toward the hallway. “Where’s Y/n? And Nate?”

“They left early. Y/n needed to take care of some things back in Boston, and Nate’s her chauffeur for the day.” She smirked, taking a seat in one of the armchairs.

I frowned, the thought of Y/n leaving without a word twisting in my chest. “Did she say anything before she left?”

“Something about needing to talk to her professor” Willow said, waving her hand dismissively. “Relax, she’ll be back. You’re not gonna lose her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I huffed, leaning back against the couch. 

Anyway, how’re you holding up after last night?”

I glanced at her, debating how honest I wanted to be. “It’s a lot. Seeing that footage, knowing what Vince did.. it just makes me feel like...” I trailed off, shaking my head. “I don’t even know what I feel. Anger? Guilt? Fear? All of it, I guess.”

Willow nodded, sipping her coffee. “Yeah, it’s a lot to process. You’re not the only one who’s scared, though. We all are.”

I tilted my head, studying her. “How’d you and Nate not lose your minds waiting for the cops to clear last night? Four hours is a hell of a long time to sit in a car.”

Her lips curved into a sly smile. “Oh, we found ways to pass the time.”

I blinked, the suggestive tone in her voice catching me off guard. “Wait a second.. Are you saying-”

Willow cut me off with a laugh. “I’m not saying anything. But, hypothetically, if I were, it’s none of your business, Chris.”

I smirked, leaning forward. “You like him, don’t you?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “Nate’s.. different. He’s got this rough exterior, but underneath all that, he’s a good guy. And, well, spending hours in close quarters tends to make you notice things.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Who would’ve thought? You and Nate.”

Willow shrugged, setting her mug down. “Enough about me. What about you? You’ve been glued to Y/n ever since this whole mess started. It’s pretty obvious you’re head over heels for her.”

“Yeah, I love her. I’m not gonna deny that.”

Willow’s gaze softened. “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?”

I nodded, exhaling slowly. “I want to be with her for the rest of my life. I know that sounds crazy, especially with everything going on, but it’s the truth. She’s the one, Willow. And I want to make that clear, not just now, but when this is all over.”

Willow smiled, her expression unexpectedly kind. “You’re a good guy, Chris. And she knows it. She wouldn’t be here, sticking by you through all this, if she didn’t feel the same way.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, filling me with a mix of hope and determination. “Thanks” I said, my voice quieter.

“Don’t thank me yet” Willow teased, standing up. “Just don’t screw it up, alright?”

I chuckled, the tension in my chest easing slightly. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’m bored without social media.. Want to make burner Instagram accounts?” Willow suggests.

Y/n’s POV

By the time I arrived on campus, my stomach was in knots. This wasn’t just about legal theory or hypotheticals. This was real, messy and dangerous. I smoothed my blazer, took a deep breath, and knocked twice.

“Come in” his deep voice called.

I stepped inside, my hands gripping the strap of my bag. Professor Hawkins was at his desk, glasses perched on his nose as he reviewed a thick stack of papers. He looked up, and his sharp, analytical gaze met mine.

“Miss Y/l/n” he said, gesturing for me to sit. “It’s nice to see you! I was beginning to think you’d dropped out of my class.”

“I know, I’m sorry..” I admitted, lowering myself into the chair. “I’ve had some personal matters to deal with, but I’m here because I need your guidance.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“There’s a situation I’ve gotten involved in, a dangerous one” I began carefully. “It’s about a criminal operation in Boston. I have evidence, but I’m scared to go to the police because it could put me and the people I care about in danger.”

At that, his expression sharpened, and he leaned forward. “Go on.”

“It’s about Vince Moretti..” I said, watching for a reaction. His eyes narrowed slightly, and I knew I had his attention.

“Moretti” he echoed, his tone measured. “I’ve been looking for a way to dismantle his operation for years. The drug feud in Boston is destroying lives, but no one talks. Everyone is either too scared or too loyal to open up. If you have evidence, Miss Y/l/n, you might have what we need to take him down.”

Hearing that sent a chill through me. “I have video footage of Moretti committing murder..” I said quietly. “But I need to do this in a way that keeps me out of it. The people I care about, they’re already too close to all of this.”

Hawkins studied me for a moment before nodding. “There was a raid at the docks last night, but my contacts in law enforcement have been quiet, which means they don’t know exactly who it's linked to or they’re keeping what they did find under wraps. If you have something concrete, it needs to stay quiet. The last thing you want is for Moretti to catch wind of it before law enforcement can act.”

“I understand” I said. “This evidence could be the turning point, but I can’t afford for it to lead back to me. Can you help?”

I paused, suddenly realizing how much trust I was putting in Hawkins by sharing this information. I couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not with so much on the line. My hand instinctively went to my bag, and I pulled out the small, nondescript USB drive.

“I.. I have the footage with me” I said, my voice steady despite the knot tightening in my stomach. “It’s all on here. What happened with Vince and Danny.. the moment Vince killed him.”

Hawkins raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. He didn’t seem surprised, though his gaze flicked briefly to the USB in my hand. He held out his hand, and I hesitated for a moment before passing it to him.

He examined the drive, turning it over in his fingers as if weighing the decision on what to do next. “You’re sure this footage is unaltered? No editing or manipulation?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’s untouched. I’ve kept it safe.”

Hawkins didn’t say anything for a moment. He seemed to be processing, considering what he was about to dive into. Finally, he spoke.

“Alright. I’ll take a look at it. But you understand this is a delicate situation. If this footage confirms what you say, then we’re dealing with a murder, and Moretti won’t let it slide easily. His influence is far reaching, and the moment this gets out.. it won’t just be you at risk.”

“I know” I said quietly. “But I can’t just sit back anymore. This needs to be dealt with, and I need to know I did everything I could to stop him. For my own peace of mind, and for the people I care about.”

He nodded, his eyes softening just a fraction. “I get it. I’ll keep this in safe hands. But you need to prepare yourself. There’s no going back once this is in motion.”

“I’m ready” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I truly was.

Hawkins gave me a sharp nod before getting up and walking to his desk, plugging the USB into his computer. As the screen came alive with the footage, I stood frozen, feeling the weight of what was to come. My heart beat louder in my chest, knowing that once the truth was revealed, there would be no turning back.

After a few moments, Hawkins turned to face me. “This is solid. You’ve done well to get this footage. But now the hard part begins.”

“I know” I whispered, my stomach twisting.

Hawkins leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly on the desk as he thought. After a long silence, he looked at me, his expression serious.

“You know, Y/n..” he said, voice low but steady, “There’s a way we can handle this without you directly being involved. If we go about it anonymously, if we can release this evidence to the right people without your name attached, then the state can take it from there. We get the authorities involved, and it’s their job to pursue it, not yours.”

I blinked, my mind spinning at the possibility. "You mean.. you think we could turn this over without anyone finding out it was me who gave them the footage?"

“Exactly” Hawkins confirmed, leaning forward, his gaze unwavering. “If we can make sure no one knows where this evidence came from, if we keep your identity out of it entirely, then the state can arrest Vince without putting you or your loved ones at risk. You won’t be the one in the line of fire.”

I let out a breath, feeling a sliver of relief. The weight of what he was offering began to sink in. I’d been terrified, every day, that my involvement would make me a target, or worse, put Chris, Nate, and Willow in harm's way too. The thought of remaining anonymous, of not having to watch my every step, was a relief. But at the same time, it felt like I was still hiding from the truth.

“So, how would we even get this to the right people without anyone knowing?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the logistics of it all.

Hawkins raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by my willingness to question the plan. “There’s a network. I have a few connections in law enforcement who are more than willing to work discreetly. We can get the footage into the hands of the right people who’ll work behind the scenes to make sure Vince is arrested, while keeping everything under wraps. But you need to understand, once this is out there, it can’t be retracted. If it leaks or anyone catches wind of who helped, it could undo everything.”

I nodded slowly, processing the risk. It seemed like the perfect solution. It would protect me, Chris, and everyone else involved, while still putting Vince away.

“I understand” I said, feeling the weight of his words. “But how do we make sure it goes through? How do we ensure that it doesn’t get buried or lost in the system?”

Hawkins smiled faintly, though his eyes remained sharp. “That’s where I come in. I’ll make sure it gets to the right people, the ones who are beyond Vince’s reach. But you need to trust me on this. If you want to keep this as clean and anonymous as possible, you can’t be involved directly from here on out. It’s going to take time, and it’s going to require patience, but in the end, it’ll be worth it.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in. If I did this, if I let Hawkins handle it from here,I would be taking the risk of putting everything in his hands. But at the same time, it was the only way I could be sure that the right thing was done, without endangering myself or the people I loved.

“You have my trust” I said quietly. “I’ll let you handle it. I just want Vince gone. I want him out of our lives.”

Hawkins nodded, his expression firm. “I’ll do everything I can to make that happen. I’ll get the ball rolling right away. But remember, you can’t talk about this to anyone. Not even your closest friends. The less you say, the safer you’ll be.”

“I get it” I whispered, my heart racing. “Thank you, Professor Hawkins. I don’t know what else to say. Just.. please make sure this works.”

“I will” he said, voice steady and confident. “Now go. I’ll handle the rest from here.”

I left his office with a heavy heart but a renewed sense of hope. This was the right move, the only way to stop Vince without risking everything. I finally felt like I could breathe, if only for a moment. The end was in sight.

–

By 5pm, I was standing at the window, waiting for Nate to arrive. The sound of a car pulling into my driveway snapped me out of my thoughts, knowing we were about to head back into the chaos once again.

I grabbed my things and stepped outside, walking toward the car quickly before getting in.

"Did you get to talk to your professor?" Nate asked, his expression a little more serious than usual, probably from everything that had gone down recently.

"Yeah" I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But I got a call from him again about thirty minutes ago. The police have the footage now, but.. Vince is nowhere to be found since the raid last night. They can trace everything back to him, but without him in custody, it's like a waiting game."

Nate's expression shifted, brows furrowing. "That’s.. not good. So, they’ve got everything, but no Vince?"

"Exactly" I replied. 

Nate’s grip on the wheel tightened, and his jaw set as he drove. "This isn’t good" he muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror as if expecting someone to be following. "The whole point of getting this footage was to put the pressure on Vince, but if he’s nowhere to be found.." He trailed off, frustration clear in his voice.

I could see the wheels turning in his mind. He was never one to be idle when something was wrong, and the thought of Vince slipping through their fingers was eating away at him.

"Maybe he’s hiding" I suggested, though it didn’t feel like much of an answer. "He’s got resources, people who could help him disappear, but they're probably piecing things together, hoping someone will slip up, reveal his whereabouts, but right now.. it’s just a matter of time. Professor Hawkins said once there’s an arrest, it’ll be all over the news" I added, my voice laced with uncertainty. 

"Yeah, I know" Nate growled. "But it’s not just that. He’s smart enough to keep a low profile. If the cops can’t find him now, it means he’s pulling strings, keeping his head down, and the longer he does that, the longer it’ll be before he’s found. It’s like we’re chasing a shadow."

Nate stayed silent for a while, focusing on the road. "I just don’t know how much longer we can wait for that. We need him caught now. If we wait too long, everything’s going to fall apart." His words were sharp, frustration lacing each word.

"Well.." I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "the cops are looking. They’re not going to stop just because Vince’s gone to ground. We need to trust that they’ll catch up with him. We’ve done everything we can. And we need to make sure we just lay low now."

When we finally pulled into the driveway of the Airbnb, stepped out of the car, still processing everything that had happened with Professor Hawkins, and headed toward the front door, Nate trailing closely behind me.

As we walked inside, the soft murmur of voices filled the air. Willow was in the kitchen, scrolling on her burner and Chris was lounging on the couch, his expression neutral but tired. When he saw us, he sat up straighter, his eyes immediately locking on mine.

"How did things go?" he asked, his voice low, his gaze flickering between me and Nate.

I nodded, taking a seat at the table. "We’ve got good news and bad news" I started, trying to keep my voice steady. "The footage is in the right hands, and Vince can be linked to everything, but.. he’s gone."

"Yeah" Nate added, rubbing the back of his neck. "The police can’t find him, and he’s laying low since the raid. No one knows where he is. They can’t even get close to him right now."

Willow frowned, putting down the papers she was holding. "That’s not great" she said quietly, crossing her arms over her chest. "But at least we’re making progress, right?"

"Not enough" Nate replied, his frustration clear. "We don’t have time to wait around for Vince to come out of hiding" Nate muttered. "We need to do more. We need him behind bars sooner, not later."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "The police have the footage. There’s nothing more we can do right now. We just have to be patient."

He let out an exasperated breath, pacing around the living room. "Patient? Patience isn’t going to get him behind bars! He’s slipping through the cracks, and we're just standing here, waiting for him to screw us over again."

"I know you're angry" I said, trying to keep my voice calm, "but there’s nothing we can do to force their hand right now. If we make any noise, it'll mess everything up. The best thing we can do is stay silent and let the police handle it."

Nate stopped pacing and glared at me. "Stay silent? We’ve been silent this whole time, Y/n!"

I could hear the frustration in his voice, and I understood. We’d all been waiting for something, anything to happen. But rushing things now would only make it worse.

"We're not doing nothing" I said, my tone softer but firm. "We’ve done everything we can. We got the footage, we tipped the cops off, and now it’s in their hands. Vince is running out of options. He’ll slip up. He has to."

Nate crossed his arms over his chest, still scowling “I’m going to bed.” Shaking his head as he made his way down the hallway toward one of the bedrooms. I could tell he was still seething with anger, unable to let go of the frustration that had built up. I didn’t blame him, but for now, we all needed a break.

Willow and I plopped down on the couch next to Chris, flipping through TV channels to put a news channel on, in case any news broke. The silence between us was tense, each of us processing everything in our own way. Every update on the news made my stomach twist tighter. No word on Vince yet. But we kept watching, hoping for some shift that would give us more clarity.

Willow shifted beside me. "You know" she said, breaking the silence, "Chris and I set up burner Instagram accounts today while you were talking to Hawkins."

I glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You did?"

She nodded, her lips quirking into a smile. "Yeah. I thought it might be useful, you know, staying low key while we keep track of things. Still having some sense of normality."

"Good thinking" I said, reaching for my phone. "Guess I’ll set one up too then."

We sat there, the murmurs of the TV in the background, as Chris and Willow helped me create a burner account. It didn’t take long, and soon enough, I was scrolling through random pages, looking at reels.

Time seemed to stretch on as we sat there, clicking through posts, our minds occupied with the task but constantly flicking back to the news, half expecting to see something break. The quiet ticking of the clock felt like it was counting down to something, but we had no idea what.

After about an hour, the silence in the room was finally broken by Chris. He leaned forward, his eyes glued to his phone screen, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Theres no fucking way" Chris muttered under his breath. His voice was a mix of disbelief and anger.

Willow and I exchanged a glance, both leaning in, asking in unison, "What’s wrong?"

Chris's fingers moved rapidly across the screen as he scrolled through, shaking his head in frustration. "I was being nosey" he said, his voice tight. "I was checking out one of the H Block guys’ pages. They-"

His words were cut off as he turned the screen toward us, and my heart dropped into my stomach. There it was. The footage.

The grainy, shaky camera work was unmistakable, the same one we'd watched hours ago on that USB, only now it was out there in the world. The caption above it was a slap to the face: "Crimson scum, killing your own 🐀"

My breath hitched in my chest, and I felt Willow’s eyes on me as my stomach twisted. I felt sick, my hands trembling as I reached for the phone to get a closer look. But even before I could process it all, my mind was racing. This could change everything.

"Shit" Willow breathed, leaning back into the couch. "This is bad. This is really bad."

Chris exhaled sharply, his eyes dark with anger and disbelief. "Yeah. And it's all over Instagram now.”

"How did they get this?" I whispered, the question more to myself than anyone else.

The tension in the room was palpable, thick with the weight of the unspoken truth. Chris jumped up from the couch, his legs moving before his mind fully caught up with the frustration building inside him. "No" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if to convince himself that this wasn’t real. "There’s no fucking way..."

But as soon as he moved toward the hall, the door to one of the bedrooms creaked open, and there stood Nate, leaning against the doorframe. He was holding his phone, his expression unreadable as he watched Chris’s every move. The moment their eyes locked, I felt the air get even heavier. Something was about to snap.

Chris’s voice was low, simmering with anger. "You fucking leaked it, didn’t you?" he demanded, his gaze hard as steel.

Nate didn't flinch. He just stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at Chris with a mixture of defiance and coldness.

“I did what I had to do" Nate said through clenched teeth, his voice low and almost challenging. "You think I’m just gonna sit here while Vince gets away with everything? While Danny’s gone? I had to do something."

Chris shook his head, pacing in frustration. "You think that’s the way to fix things? You put everything at risk. Everything we've been working toward. Y/n told you to stay quiet, and you fucking ignored her." He stopped, turning to face Nate with a look of disbelief. "You could have trusted us, man. We could’ve handled this the right way."

Nate’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "The right way? There is no ‘right way’ when it comes to this shit, Chris. I didn’t make this mess, but I’ll be damned if I sit around waiting for Vince to tear apart everything we’ve been working for. Crimson’s not just gonna sit on their hands, pretending like everything’s fine. They needed to know-"

"That’s not how you do it!" Chris interrupted, his voice rising. "You don’t just act on impulse, you don’t just go and leak shit to a rival gang, especially not with the people we care about in danger. What if someone tracks it back to us? What if this blows up in our faces?"

"Then so be it" Nate shot back, his voice colder now. "I don’t care anymore. I just want Vince to pay for what he did. I want him gone." He hesitated, his gaze flickering to me and Willow on the couch. "I had to make a move. So I sent it to H Block. They don’t know it was me, but they’re gonna spread it around, and then Crimson won’t have any choice but to turn on Vince. They’ll start talking, and then he’ll be the one running, not us."

Willow shifted beside me, her eyes wide as she watched the back and forth between the two. Chris’s face was flushed with anger, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He was trying to stay calm, but the frustration was evident.

"You’re out of your fucking mind, Nate" Chris spat, his voice barely containing the fury he was feeling. "What the hell made you think that was the right call? You really don’t get it, do you? We were trying to handle this quietly, trying to get Vince without anyone else getting hurt. And you go and throw all that out the window. Just like that."

Nate didn’t flinch. "And if I hadn’t done it? Vince would still be out there, laughing at us, thinking he can do whatever he wants. You really think I was just gonna sit back and watch that happen? Watch people we care about get hurt while I did nothing?"

The two of them were standing there, inches apart now, the tension thick enough to choke the air around us. I could see both of them on the verge of snapping, both holding on to their frustrations in the same clenched fists. I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, the sound of a breaking news report cut through the silence, pulling all of our attention to the TV in the corner of the room.

"Breaking news from Boston." the anchor's voice rang out. "Authorities have confirmed that a known leader of one of Boston's major drug gangs has been arrested, on the outskirts of Massachusetts. The arrest comes following the discovery of shocking footage implicating him in a recent murder of a close affiliate related to the feud. The footage comes a day after a raid near the docks late last night, which is now being linked back to this gang."

The words hung in the air and for a split second, it felt like the room itself froze. My heart started to race as the news anchor continued. A mixture of panic and relief.

“Wow, maybe that is how you do it” Willow whispers under her breath, only loud enough for me to hear.

Chris’s voice broke prominent silence, shaky but determined. "He’s gone. This is it."

Nate, still standing with his arms crossed, didn’t respond right away. His eyes were glued to the screen, his expression unreadable. "Yeah" he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "It’s done. Vince is done."

But despite the relief that seemed to come with hearing about Vince’s arrest, it was clear from Nate’s tone that it didn’t feel like a victory, not yet. 

Chris and Nate made their way back to the couch. We all sat there, glued to the screen, waiting for any further details. 

I knew this wasn’t over yet, but at least it was a start.

a/n: 2 more parts

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside @riasturns @sturnslutz @chrisstxrnsaxe @2prcntmilkluvr @trevorsgodmother @anonymouslyachrisgirl

[yassbishimvintage]

Hold Me Close

Warnings: Smut, Fluffy fluff, Mentions of Loss.

Word Count: 9.6k

MDNI! Read at your own risk. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

A/N: I got a little carried away with this but I hope y'all like it. And thank y'all for the love and support.

Today was the day he was coming back from Shelby Springs. He told her bits and pieces of the story, but the one that she knew hurt the most was that he lost Mike. His cousin that he loved like a brother. 

When he gets home Imani sees the truck he was supposed to buy with his cousin. She rushes outside. “Babe! Babe!” She says to him as he pulls in the driveway. 

He looked broken. When he steps out the truck she notices his arms has bruises and he has a hospital band on his arm. “T? What happened?” She asks. “Too much to talk about, I just want you.” He says wrapping her in a hug.

He’s clearly overwhelmed by everything, and in this moment, he’s seeking solace and comfort from Imani rather than diving into the details. His hug is a way of finding temporary escape from the chaos, a need for closeness and reassurance in the face of everything that’s happened.

Imani felt the weight of his pain in that moment, understanding that he’s not ready to share everything yet, but also feeling the need to be there for him—whether that means offering support or giving him space to heal.

She nods and leads him into their house. He looks around their kitchen. Thanks to the Vet loan that helped them build their house. This was something he gifted her after he got out the Marines. She sits him down in the kitchen to tend to his wounds. 

As Terry looks around, the weight of the moment might hit him. This house is a reflection of the life they both wanted, and now, with everything that has happened, it might feel like a bittersweet reminder of what was supposed to be. Imani leading him to the kitchen shows her nurturing side—she’s not just comforting him emotionally but making sure he’s physically okay as well.

Once seated, there’s a quiet intimacy to this moment. Imani is probably waiting for him to open up at his own pace, giving him the space to breathe and gather himself. She might be worried but is likely holding off on asking too many questions, understanding that Terry needs time to process.

Imani’s soft, reassuring words—“You know you can talk when you’re ready, baby”—are exactly the kind of support Terry needs in this moment. She’s offering him a safe space to open up without pressure, letting him know that she’s there for him whenever he’s ready to share. Her tone is lsoothing, a reminder that she’s not going anywhere, and that he doesn’t have to face this burden alone.

Terry’s response, “I know,” in a voice barely above a whisper, shows just how much he’s holding inside. There’s an acknowledgment that he’s aware of Imani’s support, but he’s not ready to fully open up just yet. His whisper suggests the emotional weight is still too heavy for him to voice out loud. It’s clear that Terry feels the depth of the situation, and even though he appreciates Imani’s presence, he’s still processing everything on his own terms.

In this quiet exchange, there’s an understanding between them: Terry needs time, but he also knows that when he’s ready, Imani will be there to listen. The moment feels fragile but intimate, as if both are waiting for the right time for Terry to truly open up.

After patching him up, Imani sitting with Terry in silence speaks volumes about her understanding of what he needs in that moment. She doesn't try to force conversation; instead, she lets the silence settle between them, providing the space he needs to process everything. Her quiet presence speaks to her deep respect for his emotional state—she knows that sometimes, words aren't necessary. Just being there is enough.

For Terry, the silence may feel heavy at first, but it could also provide a comforting sense of relief. Being with Imani, without pressure, allows him to start grappling with his emotions in a way that feels safe. It’s as though she’s telling him that he doesn’t have to have it all figured out right now.

Terry’s quiet request, “Baby. Can you just come to bed with me?” feels like a longing for comfort and closeness rather than anything more. It’s a subtle but powerful way for him to ask for her support—he doesn’t need to talk, he just needs to be near her, to find some sense of peace in her presence after everything that’s happened.

Imani nodding without hesitation is a silent affirmation that she’s there for him, ready to be the steady presence he needs. It shows her understanding that sometimes the best way to heal is to simply be with someone, no words necessary.

As they head to bed together, the atmosphere could shift into something more tender. There’s no pressure for conversation or for Terry to reveal everything. The act of simply being together in bed could be a safe haven for both of them, a shared space to heal, even in silence.

Whenever something heavy was on his mind he would be the little spoon to her. Him being 6’3 and her being 5’2 was a stark contrast. When they got in bed he rested his head on her chest while he wrapped his arms around her. 

Imani’s gentle touch, tracing circles on Terry’s bare back, is a soothing and intimate gesture. It’s her way of grounding him without the need for words—showing her support through the simple act of physical comfort. Feeling his breathing, steady and deep, might allow her to sense that, while he’s still carrying a lot, he’s finding some peace in her presence. The touch on his back can be both a source of reassurance for Terry and a way for Imani to stay connected to him emotionally without pressuring him to speak.

Her decision not to pry shows her deep respect for Terry’s need for space. She understands that, when he's ready, he’ll talk, but right now, she’s content just being there with him. There’s something incredibly tender about this moment, where the silence and physical closeness speak louder than words ever could.

Imani’s kiss on Terry’s head is a quiet, tender expression of love and reassurance, a gentle way to seal the moment of peace between them. Her whispered words, “You don’t know how much I love you,” are filled with deep affection and the weight of everything they’ve been through together. In that quiet moment, she’s offering him a reminder of her unwavering support, even if he’s still processing everything on his own terms.

As she kisses him and speaks those words, Imani is likely feeling a mix of emotions—concern for what Terry’s carrying, gratitude for their connection, and maybe a touch of sadness that he’s still holding so much inside. But in the stillness of the night, her love for him is the one thing that remains constant and unspoken, offering him the strength to face whatever comes next.

Terry, with his breathing steady and slow, has found some respite in her arms. Her presence is the kind of peace he needs in that moment. It’s as if her love is a quiet anchor in the storm of everything he’s been through.

Soon she falls asleep herself. She somehow some way fell asleep on his chest. His arms made it's way to her waist. 

The soft rays of sunlight gently filtered through the window, slowly pulling Imani from her sleep. She blinked a few times, still feeling the warmth of Terry's body pressed against hers, but as she stretched out her arms, she felt the absence of her favorite pillow—him. The space beside her was empty, and for a moment, a small pang of longing settled in her chest.

Imani’s eyes drifted around their bedroom, still a little groggy from sleep. She smiled softly as her gaze landed on an old Marine Corps t-shirt of Terry’s, draped across the back of a chair. The familiar dark green fabric, faded from years of wear, had the bold letters "MCMAP" printed on it, a reminder of Terry’s time as a Martial Arts Instructor in the Marines. It was one of her favorite shirts to wear when he wasn’t around—it smelled like him, like home, like the comfort of his steady presence.

She pushed herself up from the bed, stretching once more, her muscles still a little stiff, but grateful for the rest. The house was quiet—too quiet without Terry in it. The sound of the coffee maker percolating in the kitchen was the only noise filling the space. She slipped on his shirt, feeling its softness against her skin, and it instantly put her at ease.

Imani loved how it fit her—oversized, comfortable, and a constant reminder of the man she adored. The shirt was a piece of his past, a link to the man he had been before they met, but it had also become part of her daily routine, something she’d wear in the mornings when he wasn’t there, a little piece of him that kept her close to him even when they were apart.

As she walked to the kitchen, the smell of coffee filled the air, and she couldn’t help but smile. She knew Terry was probably already awake, taking care of something or working on his thoughts. Despite his silence about the past few days, Imani knew he was fighting his own battles. She could see it in the way he moved—slow, deliberate—and the way his eyes would sometimes darken with things he couldn’t yet talk about.

She set the coffee pot to brew a fresh pot and leaned against the counter, her fingers gently tracing the edge of the countertop. The sunlight coming through the window illuminated the room in a warm, golden hue, and she let the peace of the moment sink in.

As she waited, she glanced down at the shirt she wore again, her thoughts turning inward. It wasn’t just a shirt. It was a piece of Terry she held close when she missed him, a way to connect with the man who had made her heart feel whole.

A soft rustling noise interrupted her reverie, and she turned just in time to see Terry entering the kitchen. His eyes softened when he saw her wearing the shirt. “You always steal my best clothes,” he teased with a smirk.

Imani smiled warmly, her heart fluttering at the sight of him standing there. “I can’t help it. I love how it feels... like having you here even when you’re not.”

Terry walked toward her, his movements slow but steady. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering as they always did when he was close. “You know,” he said softly, “I don’t think there’s ever been a time when I didn’t want to be here with you.”

Imani’s heart skipped a beat. She had heard him say things like this before, but hearing it now, after everything they’d been through, still had the same effect. Her hand reached up to touch his chest, resting there as she met his eyes. “I know, baby. I just need you to talk to me when you're ready, okay?”

Terry nodded, his lips pressing into a firm line as he gazed down at her. “I will,” he promised, his voice quiet but sincere.

The air between them was thick with unspoken words, but for the first time in days, Imani felt the shift. She knew they were moving toward healing, toward understanding. And though they still had a long way to go, she felt a sense of peace in that moment, in the familiarity of the shirt, the warmth of their home, and the love they shared.

“Thank you for last night Imani.” He says softly.

Imani looked up at him, her heart swelling with tenderness at the sincerity in his voice. She had always known how deeply Terry cared for her, but hearing him express it so openly, especially after everything he'd been through, felt like a balm to her soul. She smiled, reaching up to cup his face gently in her hands.

“No need to thank me, babe,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “You don’t have to thank me for loving you.”

Terry leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. “It’s not just about love,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s about you being there when I didn’t know how to be there for myself. Last night... it meant everything.”

Imani’s heart ached with the weight of his words. She had always seen him as strong—unshakable even—but in this moment, she understood the depth of his vulnerability. They had both been through a lot, but their bond was something that couldn’t be broken by the hardships they faced. She pulled him in for a soft kiss on the lips, a silent reassurance that she was there for him, always.

“I’ll always be here, Terry,” she whispered against his lips, her voice filled with conviction. “No matter what.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, his hands coming to rest on her waist, pulling her closer. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not taking this for granted, Imani. I swear I’ll do better... I’ll be the man you deserve.”

Imani’s eyes softened as she looked up at him, her hands gently caressing the back of his neck. “You already are, Terry. You always have been.”

Terry’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. There was no need for grand gestures or more words—just the simple comfort of knowing that they had each other, no matter what the future held.

Imani smiled up at him, the sun shining through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on their quiet, intimate moment. “Let’s just take things one step at a time,” she said. “We don’t need to have it all figured out right now.”

Terry nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “One step at a time,” he echoed, pulling her into a hug.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, letting the world outside fade away. With every beat of his heart against hers, Imani knew that no matter what challenges came their way, they would face them together, just as they always had.

“Tell me what you want to do today.” He says. 

Imani looked up at Terry, her smile playful as she tilted her head slightly, considering his question. She loved that he was trying to take her mind off things, especially after the weight of everything they’d both been through.

“Well,” she started, letting the words hang in the air for a moment as she moved closer to him, “I think I’m in the mood for something... low-key today. Maybe we could start by grabbing some coffee, take a walk, just... get out of the house for a bit.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Sounds like a good plan. Coffee first, though?”

“Definitely coffee,” Imani agreed with a laugh. “And I think we could use a little break from everything. Maybe some time away from the house would do us good.”

Terry’s expression softened, a quiet understanding in his eyes. He knew that sometimes the best thing for both of them was to step away from their daily routine and just enjoy each other’s company, free from the weight of their responsibilities or past struggles.

“Alright,” he said with a nod, his hands resting on her hips as he pulled her closer for a brief kiss. “Let’s do it. Coffee, a walk... and maybe some quiet time afterward. Just us.”

Imani grinned, her heart lightening at the thought of a peaceful day spent with him. “Exactly what I need. We’ll leave everything behind for a few hours.”

As they finished getting ready, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief—today wasn’t about tackling the weight of the world. Today was about them, about reconnecting in simple ways. A warm coffee in their hands, the cool air of the day around them, and the comfort of each other’s presence.

“Let’s go,” Imani said, taking his hand and leading him toward the door. “I think today is going to be a good one.”

As Terry and Imani stepped out of their home, the fresh air of the morning seemed to wash over them, offering a moment of peace that both of them needed. The streets were quiet, with only the soft rustling of the trees in the breeze and the distant hum of the city waking up. It was a perfect contrast to the chaos they had both been dealing with recently.

Imani, sensing that Terry was taking it all in, walked beside him in comfortable silence. She loved these moments with him—the ones where words weren’t necessary, where just being together was enough to feel grounded.

Terry took a deep breath, his broad shoulders relaxing as the tension from the past few days seemed to slowly melt away. The simple act of walking alongside Imani, the rhythmic motion of their steps in sync, gave him a sense of calm he hadn’t realized he was missing.

“So,” Imani finally broke the silence, her voice soft but teasing, “anything on your mind? Or are you just enjoying the peace and quiet?”

Terry glanced at her, his lips curving into a small, appreciative smile. “Just... taking it all in. I needed this. You’re right. Sometimes, just walking with you and being outside helps me clear my head.”

Imani nodded, squeezing his hand lightly. “I get that. Sometimes it’s the simplest things that help, you know? It doesn’t have to be anything big.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a few more moments, the sound of their footsteps accompanying the natural beauty around them. Terry felt the weight in his chest start to lift with each step. With every passing block, the rest of the world seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of them in this peaceful moment.

Imani glanced up at him, noticing the calmness that had returned to his face. “You look more relaxed,” she observed. “This was a good idea.”

Terry looked down at her, his expression sincere. “Yeah. It really was. I’m glad you suggested it.”

They continued walking, their connection deepening with each step. For the first time in a while, Terry felt like he was truly present, like everything he’d been through, everything he was still carrying, could take a backseat for a while.

It was moments like this—when the world felt still, when they didn’t have to talk about the past or the future—that made him realize just how much Imani meant to him. She was his anchor, the one person who could always pull him back from the edge, reminding him of the simple joys of life.

After a while, they came to a small park, where they found a bench to sit and continue their quiet day. Terry leaned back, his arm resting around Imani’s shoulders as she nestled into his side.

“I needed this more than I realized,” he said softly, his voice full of gratitude. “Thank you for bringing me out here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Imani looked up at him, her eyes full of warmth. “You’ll never have to find out,” she said simply, her hand gently resting on his chest. “I’m always here.”

They sat together, watching the world pass by, knowing that no matter what came next, they would face it hand in hand. The peace of the moment wrapped around them, offering both of them a rare kind of clarity and quiet—a reminder that, sometimes, taking it slow and being together was exactly what they needed.

He glanced over at her. “Someone looks like they went up a bra size.” He smirks. He always joked about her gaining happy weight with him.

Imani laughed softly at Terry’s teasing comment, her eyes narrowing playfully as she bumped her shoulder against his. “Oh, really?” she replied, her tone light but with a hint of sass. “Well, maybe I’m just finally learning to enjoy all those home-cooked meals you keep feeding me.”

Terry chuckled, his hand gently squeezing hers. He loved how she didn’t take his teasing too seriously. It was one of the many things he adored about her—her ability to laugh at herself, and the way she always made him feel like everything he said, even in jest, was just part of their dynamic.

“I can’t help it,” he continued, his smirk widening. “You make it too easy to spoil you. And hey, a little extra weight never hurt anyone, especially when it comes to you.” He gave her a wink, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth between them.

Imani rolled her eyes, though there was a softness to her smile as she leaned into him more. “I swear, you always know how to make me laugh,” she said, shaking her head but not without affection. “But for the record, I think you’re the one who’s gaining a little ‘happy weight,’ too.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, his grin turning mischievous. “Oh, you think so? You really wanna go there?”

Imani’s lips curled into a smirk. “Hey, someone’s been living pretty well lately. I’m not saying it’s all the late-night snacks, but... maybe it’s time to hit the gym together?”

Terry laughed again, the sound light and carefree. “Oh, now you want to get all healthy on me?” He teased, nudging her playfully with his elbow. “I thought we were enjoying all that food together. What happened to that?”

“I’m all for enjoying things, Terry, but I’m just saying...” She shrugged, a sly smile on her lips. “Maybe a little balance wouldn’t hurt.”

He sighed dramatically, but there was warmth in his eyes as he looked at her. “Alright, alright. Maybe we can start tomorrow. But for now, let’s just enjoy this, yeah? No need to worry about the gym today.”

Imani agreed with a soft chuckle, her hand resting on his chest. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

The two of them continued their walk, their light-hearted teasing a comfortable rhythm that kept the mood easy and carefree. It was these moments, where they could laugh together and share little jokes, that made their relationship feel like home—perfectly imperfect, but always real.

“But seriously. What size cup is my beautiful girlfriend?” He asks.

Imani raised an eyebrow at Terry's bold question, her lips curling into a playful smile. She’d heard him tease her about her appearance countless times before, but this felt like one of his more direct comments. She couldn’t help but laugh, her voice light and teasing.

“Oh, so now we’re talking cup sizes, huh?” she replied, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “You’re really asking that now, huh, after everything we’ve been through?”

Terry gave her a cocky grin, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I mean, I’m just curious. You look even more gorgeous than usual, so I thought I’d ask.”

Imani rolled her eyes but her smile widened as she nudged him with her elbow. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, still grinning. “But if you must know, I’m not telling you. You’re the one who’s always staring anyway.”

Terry laughed, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Hey, I can’t help it. I admire the whole package.” He winked at her, giving her a playful kiss on the cheek. “Just curious if it’s my cooking or your natural beauty that’s making you even more irresistible.”

Imani shook her head, the warmth in her chest growing. “You’re something else, Terry. But don’t think you’re getting away with that one. I’m keeping that secret.”

Terry grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Fair enough, babe. But I’ll just keep appreciating the view in my own way, then.”

She laughed again, shaking her head in amusement. “You’re impossible, but that’s why I love you.”

With that, the playful teasing between them continued as they walked, a shared sense of humor making everything feel light and easy. It was these moments that strengthened their bond, where jokes and laughter kept them connected, no matter what else was going on in their lives.

“The first thing I noticed was damn my girl thick in the ass and thighs. I’m lucky.” He smirks

Imani’s eyes widened at Terry’s blunt compliment, but she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from her chest. It was the kind of honesty he always carried with him, the kind that made her love him even more. She shot him a side-eye, trying to mask her smile as she shook her head.

“Damn, you really just gonna say that out loud?” she teased, poking him in the ribs. “You trying to get me all embarrassed in the middle of the street?”

Terry only smirked wider, his arm casually draped over her shoulder as they continued walking. “I’m just saying, I’m lucky as hell,” he replied with that easy confidence of his. “You know it, I know it. That’s just the truth.”

Imani rolled her eyes but the blush creeping onto her cheeks gave her away. She couldn’t deny that she loved how openly he appreciated her. It was something she hadn’t experienced much in the past—being loved without hesitation, without games.

“Well, I’m not complaining either,” she shot back, her voice turning playful as she leaned closer into him. “You’re lucky I even put up with you, Mr. ‘Thick in the Ass and Thighs.’”

Terry laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “Oh, I know. But trust me, I’d be a fool not to appreciate it,” he said, pulling her closer by the waist. “I’m not just talking about your curves, either. You’re beautiful all the way around, inside and out.”

Imani’s heart softened, the teasing moment turning into something tender. She met his gaze and smiled warmly, her voice quieter now. “I know, baby. I love you too.”

Terry kissed the top of her head, his hand gently resting on her back. “Good, ‘cause I’m lucky to have you.”

They continued walking, the easy banter and genuine affection between them making the moment feel perfect. Every exchange, whether playful or serious, was a reminder of how deep their bond ran, and it was clear that no matter what happened, they’d always have each other.

When they arrived home, the quiet of their house enveloped them, a welcome contrast to the noise and rush of the outside world. Terry slipped off his shoes at the door, letting out a long breath as he stretched his shoulders, the weight of the day lifting with each movement. He made his way to the couch, sinking into the soft cushions, finally feeling like he could truly relax.

As Imani disappeared into their shared bedroom to change, Terry took a moment to himself, the events of the past day running through his mind. He felt the lingering ache in his muscles, a reminder of his injuries, but it was nothing compared to the weight that had been on his heart. The conversation with Imani, the comfort of their time together—it was the balm he needed to heal.

He reached for the remote and flicked on the TV, though he wasn’t really paying attention to it. His thoughts kept drifting back to Imani. He loved her with everything he had, and in moments like this, when it was just the two of them, everything felt right.

Imani reappeared from the bedroom a few minutes later, now in a simple pair of sweatpants and one of Terry’s old t-shirts. The sight of her in his shirt always brought a soft smile to his face, as if she belonged to him in the most intimate way possible. Her hair was a little messy from taking it out of the bun, and her eyes were warm, soft, the way they always were when she was with him.

She walked over to him, her movements graceful, and gently sat down beside him on the couch. "Feeling better?" she asked, her voice quiet, a mix of care and curiosity.

Terry smiled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "Yeah. A lot better. I just needed some time with you," he admitted, his voice low, almost reverent.

Imani leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his waist. "I’m glad. I hate seeing you like that," she murmured, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest. "You know I’m always here, right? For whatever you need."

He nodded, holding her close, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. "I know. And I love you for it. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more."

There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment, just the soft sounds of the TV in the background and their steady breathing. Terry let his head fall back against the couch, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over him. His arm wrapped around Imani, pulling her even closer, as if he could hold onto this feeling forever.

"Thank you," he whispered after a while. "For being here with me. For making everything better."

Imani smiled, lifting her head to meet his gaze. "You’re welcome, baby. You don’t ever have to thank me for that."

Terry kissed her forehead, his heart full. They didn’t need words for this; just being together was enough.

Imani settled more comfortably on the couch, stretching her legs out and resting her feet in Terry’s lap. She was still scrolling through her phone, occasionally pausing to read something or reply to a text, her fingers moving fluidly over the screen. The soft glow of the phone illuminated her face, and Terry couldn’t help but watch her, the familiarity of her presence bringing a calm over him.

He absently stroked the top of her feet with his fingers, a small gesture that brought him peace. It was a quiet, intimate moment—just the two of them, unwinding together after the chaos of the day.

Terry flipped through the TV channels without much interest. The images on the screen didn’t really grab his attention, but it felt comforting to just have the noise in the background. His mind kept wandering back to the past few days, to the weight he’d carried, but now, with Imani here beside him, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

Imani glanced up at him, catching his gaze for a moment before returning her attention to her phone. She could tell he was lost in thought, and she wasn’t sure if it was something she should press him about or just let him work through it in his own time.

"You’re awfully quiet," she remarked softly, her voice teasing but gentle. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Terry let out a small sigh, his fingers pausing as he traced circles on the soles of her feet. "Just thinking. About everything and nothing, I guess," he admitted, his voice low.

Imani smiled softly and shifted, resting her phone down on the coffee table and giving him her full attention. "Want to talk about it?"

He shook his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not really. Just… glad to be here with you."

Her eyes softened, and she sat up slightly, resting a hand on his chest. "I’m glad to be here with you too, Terry. We don’t always have to talk about everything. Sometimes just being here is enough."

Terry’s hand slid up to cup her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Yeah, it is."

The moment stretched on, comfortable and peaceful, as they settled into each other's company. The world outside faded away, and for this moment, it was just the two of them, together, in their little bubble of quiet.

Imani stretched as she stood up from the couch, her body feeling the weight of the day. She gave Terry a playful smile as she walked toward their shared bedroom, her steps light as she headed toward the bed. The soft glow from the bedside lamp cast a warm, inviting light over the room.

As she pulled back the covers, she let out a long yawn, her arms reaching above her head as she stretched. The yawn seemed to echo the exhaustion she hadn’t even realized was creeping in. The past few days had been heavy, and now, in the quiet comfort of their room, it felt like the tension was finally starting to leave her body.

Imani slipped off her sweatpants, deciding to change into something more comfortable for the night, knowing it would be the last thing they’d do before resting. She ran her fingers through her hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail, and then pulled on one of Terry’s old t-shirts—one that had become her favorite to sleep in. The soft fabric, the familiar scent of him, it always made her feel close to him, even when they were drifting off to sleep.

She turned back toward the bed, her body a little sore from the long day, but also feeling a sense of calm that she couldn’t shake. Terry had come back to her, and for now, everything felt right.

When she crawled into bed, she snuggled into the covers, turning onto her side to face him. Her eyes studied him as he sat on the edge of the bed, probably lost in his thoughts again.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Come here.”

Terry glanced over at her, the exhaustion of the day evident on his face. He stood slowly, stretching his back before walking over to the bed. He slipped in beside her, his arm naturally finding its way around her waist as he pulled her close. They settled into the familiar rhythm of their shared space, their bodies fitting together as if they had been made for this moment.

Imani let out another contented sigh, her eyes closing as she rested her head against his chest. It had been a long day, but this felt like home—the two of them together, safe and at peace.

"Love you," Terry mumbled into her hair, his voice drowsy.

"I love you too," Imani murmured back, her fingers lightly tracing over his arm.

And with that, they drifted off into the quiet of the night, the weight of the world outside their door feeling just a little lighter with each breath they took together.

Imani's eyes fluttered open in the morning to the sound of her phone ringing. She groaned softly, burrowing further into Terry’s embrace, savoring the warmth of his strong, muscular arms around her. His embrace always made her feel safe, as if nothing in the world could touch her when he was close.

But the ringing phone persisted, and she finally pulled herself away from his chest with a reluctant sigh. She reached over and grabbed the phone from the nightstand, her eyes squinting as she checked the caller ID. It was work—of course. She could never seem to get a break, especially when she wanted nothing more than to stay wrapped in Terry’s arms and forget about everything else.

Imani silently cursed under her breath, but she answered the call anyway, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “Hello?”

Terry, still half-asleep, pulled himself up on his elbows, watching her from the bed as she took the call. He could see the way she shifted, the slight tension in her posture when it was work calling. He knew how much she hated it, especially when it interrupted their mornings together.

“Imani, I’m sorry to bother you so early,” the voice on the other end said. “But we’ve got a situation here. Can you come in? We need your input.”

Imani rubbed her forehead, already feeling the weight of the conversation. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in about an hour,” she replied, trying to sound more professional than she felt. She ended the call, her fingers lingering on the screen for a moment before she tossed the phone back onto the nightstand with a frustrated sigh.

Terry sat up fully now, his brow furrowed. He knew how hard it was for Imani to balance everything—her work, their relationship, and everything else. He could see it in the way her shoulders tensed when something like this happened. He didn’t want her to have to deal with it, especially not on a morning like this when everything had felt so peaceful.

“Babe, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he said softly, his voice hoarse from sleep. He reached over and gently stroked her arm, his touch meant to reassure her.

Imani smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I have to. You know how it is.” She didn’t want to burden him with her work troubles, but it was part of her life. She’d never be able to turn it off completely. Not while she was still in the thick of it.

Terry sighed, not liking it one bit, but understanding her sense of responsibility. “If you need anything, you know I’ve got your back, right?” he said, his eyes meeting hers with unspoken support. “You don’t have to do it all on your own.”

Imani nodded, her heart swelling with affection for him. He was always her rock, the one she could count on no matter what. But sometimes, it still felt like she had to carry the weight of everything herself.

“I know,” she said, her voice soft but grateful. “Thanks, Terry.”

With a final kiss on his lips, she stood up from the bed and moved toward the closet. She knew she had to get ready, but she could already feel the heaviness of the day settling in. Terry’s gaze followed her as she began to change into something more presentable, his thoughts drifting back to what had happened the day before—the weight of everything that had been on his mind. But he pushed it aside for now. Right now, his focus was on Imani.

At her desk, Imani sat back in her chair with a long, deep sigh. The weight of the morning hung on her shoulders as she tried to focus on the work in front of her, but her mind kept drifting back to Terry. She glanced around her office, taking in the familiar surroundings, but there was only one thing that really caught her eye: a picture on the corner of her desk.

It was her favorite photo of the two of them—a moment from their trip to Disney. In it, Terry stood with his lips gently pressed against her forehead, his strong bicep practically taking up the entire side of the picture. She smiled at the memory. He had always been protective of her in such a comforting, effortless way, and that moment, captured in time, had reminded her of everything she loved about him.

Imani picked up the photo frame, her fingers tracing the edge of the glass. She could almost feel the warmth of Terry’s embrace again, the way his arms had felt around her as they wandered through the park, laughing at the silliest things. It was one of those rare, perfect days when everything seemed to fall into place.

As she stared at the picture, the weight of the phone call from earlier began to resurface. There was a sense of duty that she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she wanted to. But at the same time, the photo reminded her of the life she was building with Terry, of the support he always offered, even when she felt like she was carrying the world on her shoulders.

“Why can’t every day be like that?” she muttered to herself, setting the frame back down on the desk.

But the reality of her responsibilities wasn’t going to wait. She could feel the pull of work demanding her attention, and she couldn’t ignore the fact that there were lives depending on her input. She let out another sigh, this time with more resolve, and shifted her focus to the task at hand.

Just before she dove back into her work, Imani took a moment to close her eyes and think of Terry. She didn’t need to see him right now to feel his presence. It was there, in everything she did. She knew, without a doubt, that he was her rock—the one person who would never let her fall, no matter how heavy the world felt.

With a deep breath, she turned her attention to her computer screen, putting the personal distractions aside for a moment. But in the back of her mind, she knew she would be counting down the hours until she could see Terry again, find solace in his arms, and steal back some of those small moments of peace.

As the day dragged on, Imani found herself losing track of time. The calls, emails, and never-ending meetings seemed to blur together. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Terry, to the peacefulness of the morning before everything had to be put on hold. But now, sitting at her desk, she couldn’t shake the exhaustion that had begun to settle in her bones.

Her phone buzzed, cutting through the monotony of the office. She glanced down and saw Terry’s name lighting up the screen. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she unlocked her phone.

“What’s for dinner tonight? I’m thinking something simple, but I’ll make it good. How’s your day going?”

Imani chuckled softly, his familiar voice even in text making her feel a little lighter. It was exactly what she needed—a reminder of her life outside of the office. She quickly typed back, trying to keep the conversation casual despite the stress of her day.

“It’s dragging on. I swear, time moves slower when I’m stuck in here. But I’m looking forward to dinner. You’re the best at making the simple things feel special.”

She hit send, feeling the weight of the workday slowly lifting off her shoulders, replaced by the warmth of anticipation. She didn't know what Terry had planned for dinner, but just the thought of him taking care of her, of them sitting down together at the end of the day, made her feel grounded.

A few moments later, his reply came through:

“I’ve got us covered. Just relax when you get home, babe. You’ve earned it.”

Imani smiled, feeling a flutter of affection for him. He always knew how to make her feel seen, even when she was buried under piles of work. She glanced at the clock, realizing the day was almost over. Her energy had been drained, but knowing Terry would be there when she got home filled her with a sense of calm she hadn’t realized she was missing.

“I’ll be home soon. Can't wait to see you.”

She placed her phone down, taking a moment to breathe. The stress of the day hadn’t fully disappeared, but now, with the thought of Terry waiting for her, it didn’t seem quite as heavy.

-

As Imani stepped through the front door, the familiar scent of garlic, herbs, and rich tomato sauce filled the air. Her senses immediately relaxed, and her stomach growled in response. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply—lasagna. Terry knew exactly how to comfort her after a long day.

She slipped off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she found him standing by the stove, the oven door open and the lasagna just about ready. Terry, wearing a faded T-shirt and his usual relaxed jeans, was humming softly to himself as he prepared the final touches.

Imani leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment. The sight of him always grounded her. The way he moved, calm and steady, even in the kitchen, was just one of the many things she adored about him. And tonight, he was making her favorite dish—he always pulled out all the stops when he knew she'd had a hard day.

Terry looked up, a soft smile forming on his face when he saw her. "Welcome home, baby," he said, his voice warm and full of affection. "Lasagna’s almost ready."

Imani couldn’t help but smile back as she walked toward him, reaching up to kiss his cheek. "You’re the best," she murmured, her hands finding his waist as she settled against him. "This smells incredible."

He chuckled softly, pulling her in for a brief hug before letting her go. "Figured you’d need some comfort food," he said, his eyes softening as they met hers. "I know how much you love it."

She leaned back slightly, looking up at him, her gaze softening with a mix of appreciation and love. "You always know just what I need," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the lines of his shirt.

Terry smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "I just want you to feel good. You deserve it after the kind of day you’ve had."

Imani felt a warmth spread through her chest. She was lucky—lucky to have him by her side, always ready to care for her in ways big and small. "I feel good now," she said softly, her lips curving into a smile.

He stepped back toward the oven, pulling the lasagna out and setting it on the counter to cool. "Dinner’s served. I’ll get us some wine."

Imani pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, settling into it as she watched Terry move about. The simple, comforting normalcy of the moment was exactly what she needed. After everything that had been on her mind today, this felt like home—Terry, the food, the quiet after a busy day.

When he returned with two glasses of wine, he set one in front of her before taking a seat across from her. They exchanged a quiet, knowing look, the kind of look that passed between them after years of being together. She lifted her glass in a small toast. "To us," she said softly.

Terry clinked his glass against hers. "To us," he agreed, his voice low and full of meaning.

The rest of the evening passed by peacefully as they enjoyed their meal, the quiet hum of conversation and laughter filling the room. Imani let herself unwind, the weight of the day slowly lifting as she soaked in the comfort of Terry’s presence.

After finishing their meal, the warmth of the evening lingered in the air as Imani moved toward the living room. Terry was already on the couch, casually reclined and looking more relaxed than he had in days. The easygoing comfort of their home was just what he needed, and she couldn’t help but smile as she walked over to him.

Imani moved in closer, feeling the subtle pull between them. Without saying a word, she straddled his lap, settling herself comfortably against him. The contact was familiar and reassuring. Terry’s eyes softened as he met her gaze, a small, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Well, hello there,” he said, his voice low and warm, clearly enjoying the closeness between them.

Imani smirked and leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “I thought I’d come keep you company.” Her hands gently rested on his shoulders, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath her touch. She could tell he was enjoying the way they fit together—his big, solid frame supporting her as she straddled him.

Terry’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her in just a little closer. His smile deepened as he looked at her, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back. “You always know how to make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world,” he said softly, his voice thick with affection.

Imani grinned, feeling a flutter of warmth in her chest. “You’re pretty lucky,” she teased, before capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. It was soft at first, their lips barely grazing, savoring the comfort of being so close.

Terry’s hands tightened around her waist, deepening the kiss, his lips moving against hers with a mix of passion and tenderness. As they kissed, Imani felt all the stress of the day melt away. There was something so grounding about being with him, about the way he always seemed to know exactly what she needed—whether it was a comforting dinner or the quiet intimacy they shared now.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, she rested her forehead against his. “I missed you today,” she whispered, her voice quiet, filled with the weight of her emotions.

“I missed you too,” he murmured back, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek. “You know I can’t stand being apart from you.”

Imani smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him again. This was their moment, a space where everything else in the world faded away, leaving just the two of them—together, as they always were.

Imani deepened the kiss, her lips moving with a sense of urgency, feeling the tension that had been building between them all day. She pulled back for a moment, her eyes searching his before she slowly began to tug at the hem of his shirt. There was a familiar pull between them, a silent understanding of how they both needed this closeness, this connection.

Terry’s hands moved to help her, lifting his arms so she could pull the shirt off with ease. As she slid it over his head, she couldn’t help but admire the sight of his strong, sculpted chest. The muscles that had always impressed her now seemed even more alluring, and she couldn’t resist running her fingers lightly across his skin, feeling the heat of his body.

Terry’s breath hitched slightly at her touch, his hands sliding down her back as she moved closer to him. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice a mix of admiration and desire.

Imani smiled, her lips brushing against his as she leaned in again. “I know,” she whispered, her hands sliding to the waistband of his sweatpants. She paused for just a moment, savoring the intensity of the moment, before she slowly began to remove them, leaving him in just his boxers.

Terry’s hands moved to her shirt, the desire in his eyes clear. He helped her take it off, his lips brushing along her jawline, savoring the warmth of her skin. “You’re perfect,” he murmured as his lips found her neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive skin there.

Imani let out a soft sigh, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him back up to kiss him again. This kiss was different—deeper, more intense—as if the both of them had been holding back for too long and now the floodgates had opened. She pressed her body closer to his, feeling the heat of his skin against hers, the intensity of their connection growing with each passing second.

Terry’s hands were steady, guiding hers to the waistband of his sweats as his voice dropped to a low, heated whisper. The intensity in his eyes made it clear how much he wanted her, how he craved this moment with her. His fingers lightly brushed against hers, urging her forward, while his lips hovered just above her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Imani’s heart raced at the sound of his voice. She could feel the same anticipation swirling between them, the way their bodies responded to each other’s touch. Her fingers moved to the waistband of his sweats, hesitating for just a moment, before she met his gaze.

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with desire and an unspoken understanding. “I want you,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. She let her hands slide into the waistband of his sweats, her fingertips grazing his skin as she slowly pulled them down, taking her time, savoring the tension that built between them with every small movement.

As she worked, Terry’s hands slid to her waist, guiding her back down to his lap. His lips found hers once more, gentle but urgent, as if time had slowed and they had all the space in the world to explore one another. His touch was tender yet firm, his hands tracing the curve of her back before moving to her thighs, pulling her closer, if that was even possible.

“I’m yours,” he said softly between kisses, the words a promise and a plea, all wrapped into one.

Imani leaned into him, her fingers still teasing the waistband of his sweats, before finally pushing them down and off. She couldn’t resist trailing her fingers over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under her touch. She felt safe, secure, and loved in his arms, and as their connection deepened, the world outside of them faded away.

Terry’s breath hitched as Imani lowered his sweats, his body reacting to the closeness of hers, to the intimate moment they were sharing. He looked at her, his expression soft but full of longing.

"Babe..." she said softly, her voice laced with affection and something deeper, a hunger that matched his own.

He reached for her, his hands brushing against her sides as he pulled her closer, his lips brushing over her forehead before trailing down to her lips. "You don’t know how badly I want you," he murmured, his voice rough but filled with love and passion.

Imani felt the weight of his words, her own desire for him reflecting in her gaze. She let her hands roam over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath her touch. She knew exactly what he needed, what they both needed, and without hesitation, she let her lips meet his again, this time with more urgency, as if they both had been waiting for this moment far too long.

Terry responded instantly, his hands finding her hips and pulling her closer to him, pressing her body against his. The contact was electric, and for a moment, all they could feel was the heat between them, the way their bodies fit together so perfectly.

He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers, breathing heavily. "I love you so much, Imani. You’re everything to me," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Imani smiled softly, tracing the outline of his jaw with her fingers. "I love you too, Terry. More than you know," she whispered back, before leaning in to kiss him once more, letting their connection deepen further.

Terry’s hands settled at the waistband of Imani’s pajama pants, his fingers brushing the soft fabric as he looked up at her, his gaze filled with a mixture of love and desire. The room seemed to quiet around them, leaving only the sound of their breathing as they shared this intimate space.

Imani met his gaze, her own eyes dark with longing. She could feel the heat between them, an unspoken understanding passing between them as he slowly began to slip the pants off her hips. His touch was gentle, yet there was an undeniable urgency in the way he moved, a sense that they had both been waiting for this moment for too long.

She helped him, lifting her hips slightly to allow him to pull them down, and as the fabric slid off her body, her bare skin brushed against his, sending a shiver through her.

Terry paused for a moment, his hands resting on her bare thighs as he looked at her, his breath shaky. "You’re beautiful, Imani. Absolutely perfect," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe.

Imani smiled softly, her hands reaching up to run through his hair, her fingers gently tugging him closer. "I’m yours, Terry. Always have been, always will be," she whispered back, her voice full of love and trust.

With that, Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was as tender as it was passionate. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her close as their bodies pressed together. In that moment, there was no past, no future—just the here and now, the two of them wrapped up in each other.

He gently leaned her back into the pillows, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her body. She inhaled at the sensation. “Tonight, I’m going to make you scream my name.” he says as he makes his way down.

True to word he kept his promise. 

The next morning, Imani woke up with a contented sigh, the warmth of Terry's body still radiating against hers. She could feel the tenderness in her muscles, a reminder of the passion they had shared the night before. Her body was sore, but in the best possible way, a familiar feeling she had come to associate with their most intimate moments together.

Terry was still asleep, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close. His steady breathing and the comforting weight of his arm made her feel safe, loved, and cherished. She couldn't help but smile as she traced a finger along his arm, her thoughts drifting back to the night they had just shared.

She felt a wave of affection for him, a deep love that ran so much deeper than the physical. Terry was her rock, the person who had stood by her side through thick and thin, and even on mornings like this, when she was sore and exhausted, she felt nothing but gratitude for the man in her life.

Imani shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him, and snuggled deeper into his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull her back into a peaceful moment of quiet intimacy.

Tags 🏷️ :

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @notpradagurl7

[transtrashpanda]

I really hate how much this fandom ignores Peter as being part of the group because he betrayed the Potters (and when they do include him he's treated like shit), so here are my favorite Peter hcs cause he's one of my fav characters and doesn't get enough attention!!

he's amazing at herbology and loves plants + him tutoring the others in it because he and James are the only ones who give a damn about it (James' mum adores gardening and he helped her a lot growing up)

he is a fiend for green clothes and wears green (sage greens particularly) c o n s t a n t l y

he had braces starting the summer after third and ending in early to mid fifth (he was lucky enough to not need headgear though)

James and Sirius affectionately called him "brace-face" and "tin-grin" during that time

he, James, and Marlene all grew up together and Euphemia's love for gardening got him started with his love of plants (he always takes time to talk to her about his new plants when they all go to the Potter's for the hols and she thinks it's just the sweetest)

probably smoked weed

ok he definitely smoked week

aroace but doesn't have the labels to properly describe it cause it's the 70s

doesn't quite understand gay people (or romance in general but he gets that slightly more) but if it makes his mates happy then it's cool by him!

he and James are the sole reasons Remus and Sirius regularly consume meals

has major anxiety but also a fuck it we ball mentality (one of my favs! it's so fun to play with how they mix for him!! highly recommend)

really fucking funny but doesn't talk much so no one outside of his friends know about his absolute wicked sense of humor

he either remembers every word of a conversation you had with six years ago or doesn't remember even talking to you two days ago. there is no in between and there is no way of telling which you'll get

he probably had a lazy, orange cat who ONLY liked him and Sirius

yum bagels

struggles with words but will randomly say the most eloquent, wise old man esque shit ever and then goes back to stuttering

reads books with Remus and Lily!!

wore green to a quiddich match against slytherin once and James and Sirius stole everything off his bed and hid it from him for a week (he just cuddled with Remus every night)

loves baking and cooking but is pants at it (he's getting better though!!)

can convincingly bark like a dog???

probably cried to Lily a couple times because 'why are his friends so fucking oblivious??'

makes fun of his friends unprovoked, constantly

literal god at chess (only time he loses is when he pretends to while teaching underclassmen)

insanely good at photography!!

asfhgfsfdaaa

I love him sm and have so many more so if you're interested don't be afraid to send an ask :)