#Funny How Time Flies (When You’re Having Fun)

[tha-wrecka-stow]

[bookshelf-dust]

the art of dancing in the kitchen

carmy berzatto x fem!hairdresser!reader

gif by @hotch-girl

word count: 3,479

warnings: literally nothing? this is pure fluff with slight swearing and little baby innuendos. i did make reader a hairdresser because i just love the idea and it makes so much sense for this.

synopsis: nothing brings you more joy than spending time with carmen…except maybe having him help you bake.

a/n: i swear to you, i think this might be my favorite fic that i’ve ever written. i love it so much and it made me so happy to write. i found myself smiling at the screen while typing, if that tells you anything. i think i’d definitely like to continue writing things in this universe, too! carmy is so fun for me to write and i love coming up with ways to make him feel tangible. (also shoutout to the first pic because if you know, you know.) i hope you enjoy this one and happy reading!! <33

————

Carmy never sees you run as fast as you do when you’re leaving work. In this case, it’s just so he can eat lunch with you, but you rush out of the salon door just as fast.

Your sundress catches the wind, the hem flying behind you as you jog up to the passenger side door. You catch a glimpse of Carmen through the dirty window. His curls are crushed underneath that worn blue cap, but today it’s turned the wrong way around on his head.

It makes him look boyish. The hand rubbing over his mouth in an effort to hide a grin doesn’t help his case. 

If you’re honest, you’ve been giddy since six that morning, when you got up and remembered that Carmy was meeting you for lunch. And when you got to work and found it was much slower than expected, with no show after no show, you were so grateful for the blue eyed man waiting for you outside. In a loading zone, no less. 

You hop into the car, pulling the door shut behind you distractedly. You’re too eager to see him, and before you can even say hello, how are you, how’s life—anything—you’re kissing him. 

His lips feel a little chapped against yours, the skin slightly dry and cracked, but you don’t mind. It feels like he’s just shaved, his jaw all smooth, and he smells like cinnamon and dish soap and cigarettes, but you’d be a liar if you tried to claim that wasn’t the best smell in the world.

You pull away from his kiss, locking eyes with him, where his pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed like he’s been pinched. “Hi, gorgeous,” you say. 

Carmen laughs, that little shy one that’s more of a big puff of air than a chuckle. He shakes his head at you, still not used to someone being so excited about his presence, so…enamored by him. 

“Hey, you,” Carmy answers, placing both of his hands on your cheeks. He stares at you for a moment. He’s trying to drink you in. He does this every chance he gets because he literally cannot believe you’re real. He’s not dissociating, he’s not daydreaming. This is his life.

Your already broad smile widens as you take the opportunity to stare back at him. Your eyes wander to his just-too-long sideburns. “I think it’s time for a trim again, Carm. Lookin’ a little grizzly there.” You ruffle his curls, which feel surprisingly clean. 

Carmy watches you bite your thumbnail in an effort to conceal the laugh threatening to burst from your throat due to your own horrible joke. 

“Ha, ha. So funny.”

He puts the car in drive and listens to you giggle to yourself as you fasten your seatbelt. Neither of you say much on the very short drive to the park across the street, knowing you’ll be able to vent as much as you please while you eat. 

“Cross your fingers our bench is free?” you say, raising your hand up towards Carmen. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth as if that also counts as a way of manifesting your favorite seat. Carmy lifts his fingers in the air, the middle crossed over the index and gently knocks his hand against yours. 

You pull into the parking lot, the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires filling your ears, and your gaze immediately flies to the bench underneath the biggest tree with the most shade and the best view for people watching. “Fuck, yeah!” you shout, a brilliant smile blooming on your face as you unbuckle. 

Carmy laughs for real this time, the corners of his eyes going all soft and crinkly at your joy. “Run over there and claim it, yeah? I’ll grab everything.”

You push open the car door and stand quickly, smoothing the sweet ruffles of your dress. You wink, already starting to happily jog away. “Yes, chef!” Carm catches your salute just before he reaches in the backseat for the cooler and bag of food he brought with him from the restaurant.

On your bench, you prop your hand on your chin, tuck your foot under your thigh, and watch as Carmen walks up the short little incline to you. He looks gorgeous.

He’s wearing jeans, Levi’s that hug his ass and thighs just right. He has on an old “I heart New York” t-shirt that he only wears when he hasn’t caught up on laundry (and only bought for that same reason a few years ago). 

His curls and necklace bounce almost in sync, and you can’t help but think that he just looks so pure and free.

And he’s got this glint in his eye that’s directed right on you. 

“Ebra made your favorite. He heard I was meeting you for lunch and insisted he do it,” Carmy says, snapping you out of your how-could-this-man-get-any-more-sexy daze. 

He places the tin foil wrapped sandwich in front of you, pretending not to notice the way you’re gawking at him. “I swear he’s never been so gentle with roast beef.”

You smile, pulling up the strap on your dress where it’s started to slip. Carmy leans over the table to press a kiss to your shoulder. It makes your stomach flip. 

“Did he make yours for you?” you ask, mouth watering impatiently as you lift the still-warm bread up so you can take a messy bite. 

Carmen hands you a napkin. “Put that over your chest—yeah, like that. So you don’t get your dress dirty.” He rips open a bag of chips for you to share. “But to answer your question, fuck no he didn’t.”

You toss your head back and laugh. “You’ll have to tell him I said thank you for making such a yummy lunch for me.” Your boyfriend watches as you suck a stream of au jus from your thumb. 

Carmy scoffs playfully. You wink at him. “I did have the cutest delivery boy though.”

His brow raises, and the corners of his mouth quirk while he chews on the handful of potato chips he’s just shoved in his mouth. “Oh yeah?”

You hum. “Yep. Cute even with roast beef stuck in his teeth.”

Carmy falls for it, quickly taking a sip of his drink like he’s going to wash the beef free. But the twinkle in your eye tips him off. “You’re fuckin’ with me?”

You wipe your grinning mouth. “‘Course I am, Bear.”

Carmen raises up from his side of the picnic table just enough so that he’s leaning across to meet you halfway. He waves you closer with his hands. “Come on now, you owe me a kiss for bein’ a little shit.”

You brace your palms against the worn—and slightly damp from last night's rain shower—wood, quickly connecting your lips with Carmy’s. 

You do this thing where you start smiling into the kiss and in turn it makes Carmen smile because your giddiness to have your mouth on his is insanely fucking contagious, and he’d be a damn fool not to join in.

When you pull apart you make sure to quickly kiss both of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. “There’s your tip for being such a pretty delivery boy and bringin’ me lunch.”

The both of you settle into quiet conversation, catching up on whatever as you finish your sandwiches and drinks. Carmy reaches across the table to hold your hand, rubbing the pads of his fingers over your polished nails. He likes the way they feel.

As a surprise to end your lunch hour, he pulls out a little back holding two oversized oatmeal raisin cookies. One for each of you. And he knows those are your favorite. You do a happy little wiggle in your seat when you see them. It makes him laugh, makes his stomach flip. 

“Marcus made a batch of these, just tryin’ out cookie recipes? We thought having them out front for people to grab on their way out would be smart.”

You take the cookie from him. “That is smart. And I already know it’s gonna be yummy.”

“Damn straight. I ate like, four of them as my breakfast and lunch yesterday. But that’s not important. How’s work so far?” 

You’ll have to berate him about that later. The man cannot eat cookies and wash them down with Pepto Bismol and call it a day. 

You demolish your cookie within seconds. “Work has been so fuckin’ slow today, Bear. We’ve had all these no shows, so I got set up and then they don’t come and now I’ll have to send them the files about the fee.”

“You want me to yell at ‘em for you? Tell them how they’re missin’ out on the world’s best haircut and color?”

You smack him playfully on the wrist. “I just love my job, y’know? So it sucks when I sit there playin’ on my phone instead of listening to all the gossip my customers bring me.”

Carmy downs the rest of his Coke and swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “If it helps, I’ll let you give me that trim after service tonight.”

“At least I know you won’t cancel on me.”

Carmen watches you for a minute, losing himself in now fucking ethereal you are. He’s never imagined himself using the word, but that’s the only proper way to describe you. And he secretly loves you cutting his hair because your hands feel so good, especially when you wash it for him. 

“I’ll tip you real good too, baby.” Carmy blushes at his own joke and it makes you laugh. Mid-laugh though, your eyes widen like you’ve just had an idea. It feels a little devious to him.

You pull out your phone. “Oh! When I was doomscrolling this morning, I found this video of blueberry muffins—dammit, of course I can’t find it now—but they had the…the…”

You lift your hand, wiggling your fingers in a sort of sprinkly motion like you’re try to demonstrate what you’d seen. “The crumbly shit, Carm! I don’t know what the fuck it’s called.”

You reach over and take both of his hands. “Point is, they looked really yummy and I wondered if you’d help me make them?”

Carmy starts chuckling. He definitely knew what you were talking about with your hand gesture, since you’re always making them and he’s got them memorized by now, but it’s so fucking fun to see your brain work. 

He begins to gather up your trash and put it back in the bag he brought it in. 

“Yeah, I think I have enough flour and shit. There’s some frozen blueberries in the back of the freezer. But do you want the crumbly shit, or streusel?”

“Carmen, sweet angel baby, I don’t know what streusel is.”

“It’s usually got cinnamon and nuts and shit, so that’s what we’ll do because I know how you like your nuts, love.”

You take his hand when he offers it to help you stand. You smack a big, wet kiss on his lip. You let your eyes drag up and down his form before you begin to walk back to the car. 

“Sure do, Carmy.”

————

“You don’t need a recipe or anything?”

Carm presses a sweet kiss to your lips and passes you a few fresh blueberries to snack on. He’d grabbed some at the store on the way home because was he really going to teach his girlfriend how to make muffins with a questionable bag of frozen blueberries? Fuck no.

“Nah, it’s all pretty simple. I’ll tell you everything to do, and I can write one out for you if you ever wanna make ‘em when I’m not home.”

You pinch his sides, raising up on your tippy toes to express your giddiness. “Really? Holy shit, I love that.”

He lets out a huff of a laugh. “Yeah?” Carmen cups your chin, tilting your mouth up to meet his because he wants a kiss.

You start to talk while his lips are still on yours. “It’s your handwriting. I have a thing for it.”

He bites your bottom lip playfully. “You’re insane,” he says, smiling through each syllable. He pulls back briefly. “That reminds me, I got you somethin’.”

Carmen walks to the living room and pulls something out of his work bag. “Does this have to do with my insanity?” you ask, jokingly. 

He shakes his head. “Only with your insanely cute ass.” He holds up an apron. “It’s your honorary chef apron. Ta-da.”

It’s the same blue as his at work, except it has a ruffled hem and the logo for The Bear embroidered on the chest. Your brows shoot up.

“You got this today, Carm?” The alarm in your voice makes him smile. 

Carmy walks up to you and starts tying it around your waist. “No, no, not today. I got it awhile back, but you bringing up muffins made me remember I’d ordered it. It came with the chef’s whites and shit.”

“You got it made for me?” Your voice pitches up a notch, causing Carmen to spin you around so you’re facing him. 

“‘Course I did. Couldn’t leave my number one out. And yours is cuter than everyone else’s.”

Your eyes water, just slightly, and you start smothering Carmy’s face with kisses until he starts to giggle boyishly. “Okay, okay!” he fusses, “No tears, only muffins.” He grabs your hips and moves you in front of the counter where he’s laid out all the ingredients for you. “Let’s get movin’ now, yeah? This shit is making me hungry.”

————

“Why do they tell you to fold it in? I’m not doing fuckin’ laundry, Bear.”

Carmy is sitting on the counter next to you, watching you intensely. There are floury handprints on your apron and you have your tongue poking out in concentration. He keeps bringing a straw to your lips every few minutes to keep you hydrated, like this is a very important surgical operation. 

“Probably ‘cause it looks like folds when you do that?” You smack him on the knee and continue to fold in all the ingredients, pretending like you don’t see exactly what he means.

Once you feel like it’s all combined you let go of the spatula and turn to Carmen. 

“What now, Bear?”

“You gotta mix up the sugar and the flour and the cinnamon, and then you can add your little nut mixture and I’ll show you how to do the butter.”

You reach for the collection of small glass bowls Carmy set out for you. “So sassy,” you say, shaking your shoulder just a little. 

He smiles at you and extends a socked foot out to lightly kick you on the butt. But you were expecting it, so you reach behind you and grab his ankle, tickling the bottom of his foot, which is where he’s most ticklish. It’s his Achilles heel. 

Carmy releases a short bout of laughter before pulling away from you to catch his breath. “Fucker.”

You grin, leaning over the sink to wash your hands for the umpteenth time. “But I’m your fucker, angel boy.”

He hops off the counter, scooching in behind you to press a kiss to your clammy cheek. “Can’t argue with that,” he says. 

Carm watches over your shoulder as you add a small mix of crushed almonds, granola, and pecans to your streusel topping. “Good job, baby. Now I need you to cut a few pats of butter and add ‘em in. Just do a few—yeah, just like that—and you can start mixing it up. You can use your hands if you need to since it gets so difficult to stir.”

The warmth of Carmy’s chest against your back should be unnerving, what with him observing your every move. 

But it isn’t. Rather, it's comforting. When the butter combines with your little potion mix as much as it can, you use your hands to make sure nothing gets left behind. 

“You’re very good at making sure the crumbly shit is crumbly, lovebug.”

You look over your shoulder at Carmen as you finally slide the finished tray into the oven. “I’m givin’ you a run for your money, aren’t I, Bear?”

He smiles at you, reaching around your waist to untie your apron and lift it over your head. He hangs it on the little rack meant for keys. “Might have to tell Marcus about this. Get you in there, helpin’ him decorate donuts and shit.”

You push up on your toes and wrap your arms around Carmy’s neck. His go around the small of your back like that’s the only job they’ve ever had. 

“So you can throw them on the floor?” you quip, biting your lip to hold back a laugh. You know you’re being a little shit, but at least it’s a memory you can all laugh at now. 

Carmy’s lips quirk up at the corners. His right hand lowers and squeezes at the fat of your ass, a little menacingly, but loving all the same. “Never gonna let me live that down, huh?”

You lower your forehead so that it’s resting on Carm’s chest. He feels your giggle against his skin. Feels the way your fingers play with his necklace where they rest at the back of his neck. It’s giving him goosebumps. 

“Nope,” you say, that cute little teasing lilt to your voice. 

Carmy tightens his grip around your waist and lifts you up into the air, spinning you around his small kitchen a few times. Just enough that you squeal out of surprise, out of pure, unadulterated joy because of this romantic ass gesture that feels straight out of a story book. You pop your feet up for good measure. You could never let Princess Mia down like that.

When he sets you down, you both stare at each other for a moment, catching your breath with these stupid happy smiles on your faces. And right there, you both feel that little bolt of electricity. The one that tells you this will never go away. This connection is everlasting. 

It takes a minute for you to register that you’re both shuffling lightly across the floor, in gentle, sloppy circles. 

You look down at Carmy’s socked feet and back up to meet his eyes. “Does this count as dancing?”

He scratches his nose. “Couldn’t tell you.”

You kiss the spot where he was self-consciously rubbing. “Maybe we should practice, you know, in case we need to dance someday.”

Carmen snorts. “Yeah, maybe, sweetheart.”

You play with the curls around his ears, remembering your promise to give him that trim. “Have you ever danced, Mr. Berzatto?”

He kisses you. “Only alone in my room.”

You kiss him. “That what you do when I’m not around?”

He kisses you a second time. “Yep. Busted. But Richie used to try and make us play Just Dance with him when he got drunk.” He grins at the little chuckle you let out. “What about you?” he starts. “Have a past dancing career?”

You shake your head, admiring every little freckle on his face. Every little dry patch of skin, every line. 

“In high school, me and my girlfriends would usually just hold hands and spin around in a little dance circle since we were all single. It was very cool of us.”

“I would’ve paid to see that,” Carmy says, cupping your jaw. You grin up at him, eyes twinkling. You imagine you’ve got big ‘ol pink hearts fluttering back and forth at him. 

You both melt into each other after that. Slowly shuffling around the kitchen, hips swaying to music that isn’t there. Usually Carmy would be on the verge of shitting his pants in a situation like this, but…it’s you. You’re safe. 

Why wouldn’t he dance with you? 

Carmen brings his lips to your ear. “Is there music in your head right now?”

“Rick Astley,” you whisper. 

Carmy blinks. 

And then he tosses his head back, laughing. “Seriously?” 

“Nope. I just wanted to hear you laugh,” you say, and kiss the chuckle right off his lips. He kisses you back, pecking your lips three times in quick succession because one is just never enough. You tug on a curl. “We’re stupid in love, aren’t we?”

“We’re dancing, shuffling like old people really, in my shitty kitchen on a weeknight, and waiting on blueberry muffins that I’m pretty sure we’ll finish within the hour.”

“Oh my god, Bear.”

“Yeah, baby. We’re stupid in love.”

You are. And when you sit on the kitchen floor, your socked feet in his lap, eating warm muffins and getting butter all over your fingers and down your wrists, that only confirms it. 

Those are the best damn muffins you’ve ever had. And Carmy’s lips taste like blueberries for the rest of the night. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[macfrog]

If you ever feel up to it - a little short story from the scom universe about reader and Joel deciding to have a second baby or finding out they're pregnant for the second time would warm my cold dead heart <3

i am. so. sorry. for the word count on this i truly do not know what happened. but i had a lot of fun with it, so. hopefully y'all do, too. happy fathers day! x

jellybean ~4k words | series masterlist warnings: pregnancy symptoms (feeling and being sick, horniness + sleepiness. aka me even when not pregnant), 99% just duckie vs her mom

Duckie spills the secret on a Friday.

The morning is lazy, slow. The breathing of the sea across a plain of beach. Your fingers sift through her hair like the breeze through sun-bleached pages. The way she and the sun tint the room peach.

Sarah sprawls out across the spot still warm on her dad’s side of the bed. She’s in a habit of waking up early to sneak through to your room, lift the bottom of the covers, and army crawl between your bodies.

Joel’s in a habit of stirring to the heat of her at his back, her tiny toes at his spine, and turning to scoop her in one arm. They sleep curled into one another, mouths catching flies.

This morning, though, she’s up to something. She brought a secret.

She’s flat-out on her stomach, pens scratching at the paper. There’s the scent of cherry and lemon and green apple tangling in the air. Taut frown on her face, tongue poked with concentration. She looks just like her dad.

She pauses and looks up at you. “What color is this part?” she asks, dabbing at the blank hubcap.

“Silver,” you reply, fixing the cap back onto the grape pen before it stains your sheets.

She huffs. “I don’t have silver, Mama.”

You tap on the page. “Daddy’s wing mirrors are black, but you did ‘em green. The colors don’t matter, do they?”

But it’s seven a.m., and you’re sharing only the red jellybeans for something of a pre-breakfast snack (the four-year-old’s idea), and you’re exhausted despite having slept the full night, and she keeps halting any time Joel’s humming quietens – just in case he spoils his birthday surprise.

She hunkers down with the lemon pen to nail the emblem of his truck, and you figure – color is just the least of it. Truthfully, to your kid – and so, to you, too – nothing has ever mattered more.

You cup her cheek and lift her gaze back to meet yours. “How about I grab you a glitter pen today, just for the wheels?”

She grins. Little milk teeth, gappy and gummy. Peach fuzz cheeks, sweet as the rest of her, a perfect fit in the palm of your hand.

I love you I love you you’re my whole world I love you, you want to say.

Instead: “Only if we tidy your room later. Deal?”

“Deal, Mama,” Sarah giggles, and her little ink-stained hands splay out across the page again.

She scribbles only a few more splotches of color before you both notice it.

The sudden silence.

The water’s stopped running. The shower screen rattles as he pulls it back. Dripdripdrip from the showerhead straight down to the empty basin.

Sarah twists to watch Joel’s disembodied arm blindly grab for a towel folded on the sink. It whips off out of sight, and he calls through from the bathroom.

“Duckie? You still there?”

“Gogogo,” you whisper, helping your daughter cover her dad’s drawing with blank sheets. “Leave the jellybeans, Duck, save yourself!”

She finds the entire thing hysterical. Swinging her masterpiece under one arm, two fistfuls of rainbow pens, springing from the mattress like it suddenly caught flame. She throws herself from the foot of the bed and dashes across the hall to her own room, candy scattering in her wake.

Joel’s head cranes around the doorframe. “Where’d she go?”

You smile, shrugging. Chewing innocently on a jellybean. “That’s funny. She was here a second ago.”

He pads over to the bed, towel slung loose around his hips. Smirks, when your hungry eyes descend his figure – the bearlike shape of him, all muscle and fur, toned where he needs it but soft where you want it.

He cages over you, dark hair dripping with the smell of citrus, skin sticky.

His lips are like velvet against yours. Tongue still singed with coffee. A low growl from his throat when you lean forward to lick into his mouth.

“Smell so goddamn good,” you murmur, dipping your head to bury into the crook of his neck.

His beard is fuzzier when it’s damp, natural masculine musk melded with the fresh soap and rich aftershave he uses. All honey and oatmeal, mixed with a woodsy scent – and fuck, it’s intoxicating. Moreso than usual – stronger and sexier.

You take his hands and lower them to your hips, letting his fingers knot around the baggy material of your – his T-shirt. Tugging on it, exposing the slip of delicate lace on your hips.

“Darlin’,” Joel warns, “we’re late. We still gotta drop Duckie off – If she walks in –”

You groan, huffing back into the mattress. The weight between your legs ripples over the horizon, pulses into weak nothing.

Joel fixes the shirt back down to your thighs just as the thunder of his daughter’s footsteps rumbles back into the room.

Tonight, he breathes, slicking some of the hair from his face.

You grin, taking his hand to pull yourself back up.

Sarah materializes in the doorway, a lingering half-girl. Smiling from behind the frame, twisting the ball of her foot into the floor.

“Hi, Duck,” Joel says, still playing with your fingers.

“Hi.”

“You look guilty.”

Her grin widens. She totters into the room, launches herself onto the bed, and nuzzles into your side. She squirms when Joel digs his fingers into her waist.

The beats of her laughter drum against your ribs, the same way her fists used to when she lived inside you.

“Alright.” You cradle her, her little head tipping back to wake the rest of Austin up with her squeals of glee. “Are we ready for some actual food, now?”

Joel chuckles, reaching for his mug.

Sarah nods from your lap. Her eyes drift down to the print on your tee. “Mama?”

“Mhm?”

“Do they like jellybeans?”

You frown. “Does who like jellybeans?”

Her finger prods lightly into your tummy. “The baby.”

Joel chokes, splattering coffee into his fist. He slams the mug down, pounds his chest clear of liquid.

“There’s no – Jesus, Joel,” you swipe mocha flecks from the sheets, “Told Sarah to be careful with her pens and then you spray coffee all over the…”

Sarah rolls off, cackling. “Silly Daddy,” she hoots, leaping on the bedroom floor.

“Hey,” you usher her over to the door, “Why don’t you go pick out what you wanna wear today? I’ll be right behind you. Quit tryna give your dad a heart attack, okay?”

“The baby, Mama,” she’s repeating, walking like a little convict. She turns over the threshold to her room like it’s a cell, her pink pajama uniform and guilty expression to go with it. Still laughing, swallowing the ticklish bursts when she notices you’re shaking your head.

“There is no baby.” You kneel before her, repeating, “No baby. Just you. How about your T-shirt with the butterflies?”

It seems to distract her enough. Thank Christ. She gasps, inspired, and twirls off to find the tee.

“Fucking hell,” you sigh, pushing back to your feet.

Joel’s flapping the sheets when you slip back into your room, still clearing his throat. Half-dressed: a white T-shirt over his broad chest and a pair of black boxers. Soaked hair clinging to the back of his neck and drying in flicks across his forehead.

Jesus, you want to pull him back over you and let him have his way.

You close the door over and spin, hands on your hips. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Me?” he croaks. “Did you hear what she just said?”

“You’ve known this kid for four years, Joel, you really can’t tell when she’s fucking with you? She’s my kid, keep up.”

“Just seemed an awfully –” he thumps his chest again, “– awfully specific thing to say.”

“She’s in a phase I think,” you reply, catching the pillow he tosses across. “She’s telling stories. Last week, her pre-K teacher congratulated me our supposed wedding. Asked to see pictures of the Mickey Mouse officiant.”

“Jesus,” he grumbles. “She really bought that?”

You mimic the breezy voice: “Sarah was very convincing.”

Joel scoffs. “I don’t know if I can take a lying phase and a copying phase at the same time. Every goddamn word I say, she’s gotta repeat it.”

“She idolizes you,” you straighten the sheets, “I think it’s endearing.”

“Hm. Just wait until it’s you.”

He wanders around the bed, pulls your back against his chest. His arms cross over your tummy, lips pressing into your shoulder where his shirt has slipped.

“How much harder would two be?” he mumbles into the bare skin.

“Two Sarahs?” You scoff.

Joel laughs. “Yeah, you’re right. I forget she runs on chaos and jellybeans.”

“Yup,” you turn in his arms, linking yours behind his neck, “And there ain’t no point in talking about it anyways, because I am not fucking pregnant.”

He rolls his forehead against yours, stealing bristly kisses. “Okay.”

“I’m not, Joel.”

“I believe you, baby.”

Sarah’s bedtime is a liberal eight, eight thirty on weekends. She likes to sit up, lodged between you and Joel on the couch, and help pick the movie you two will watch once she’s in bed.

Once – and only once – Joel tried to fool her by pretending to play her choice, then switching as soon as she went down.

The kid quizzed him on the movie the next morning. He failed. She’s never forgotten.

Tonight, though, Joel’s out. Some game that you know and care too little about sports to learn the name or importance of. He’s with some buddies at the local bar, probably nursing his second beer in as many hours, and counting down the minutes until he can come home to his girls.

Sarah snores soundly, slumped at your side as though butter wouldn’t melt. The flicker from the TV across her face, the gentle mumbling of the voices onscreen. Her hands limp in her lap, fingers idling in a pink snack bowl.

You admire her, stealing a piece of her popcorn. Teeth grinding down when you remember dishing it for her earlier, hearing her curious voice ask whether or not the baby likes popcorn more than jellybeans.

Nope, you sang, tossing a handful in your mouth as you passed her the bowl. Imaginary babies don’t eat popcorn.

She snorted (which unnerved you, because what the fuck is this kid finding so funny?), and followed you to the living room so close that you could feel her toes at your heels.

Some of the kids in her class have siblings. Some older, but mostly younger. It’s the only fucking explanation, the only thing that explains this sudden interest in the real estate of your uterus.

She’s going through a phase, you tell yourself, suckling on popcorn. But then – how many fucking phases do kids go through? Which phases did you go through?

Barney & Friends. That was a fucking phase. Refusing to leave the house without the hoodie your mom bought you from the Museum of Natural History, even in the height of summer. Ketchup and broccoli, your boyfriend at seventeen, frisbeeing your neighbor’s newspaper and aiming for his flowerpots.

Phase, phase, fucking phase.

Does she know something you don’t?

…No. You took a test just last week. Shut up. Stop letting the kid into your fucking head.

Joel’s keys jangle on the other side of the door, shunting into the lock with a sound which stills your brain.

You tilt your head over the back of the couch, your man’s beard tickling your nose as he kisses you. “Evening.”

“Missed you,” he whispers against your lips. He straightens and tugs the jacket from his shoulders. “She not in bed yet?”

“She fell asleep down here,” you reply. “I got too tired to carry her up.”

He caresses your forehead, big pillowy palm. “You feelin’ okay?”

“It’s been a long day,” you grumble.

Joel smiles. He flops down onto the couch beside you, reaching over to stroke Sarah’s head.

You roll, solid as a rock, curling into his side. “She keeps saying it, Joel. She keeps fucking saying it.”

His chest jumps, tectonic plates moving with a laugh. “You’ve met your match, honey. Produced a professional little shit.”

“One of the other moms from her class is pregnant,” you mumble. “That’s gotta be it, right? That’s where she’s getting it from?”

“Maybe,” Joel muses. His fingers link with yours. “Why don’t you take a test anyways? Settle it in your mind?”

It startles you awake, even if only enough to prove the fucking point.

“No, Joel!” you hiss, body jerking. “If I take a test, and it turns out negative – which it will – she wins! My four-year-old fooled me. No,” you pluck spilled popcorn from your lap, pinging it back into the bowl, “I know this kid. I gave birth to this kid. She is not fucking winning.”

“Alright, baby,” he coos, “it’s okay. I won’t let the four-year-old fool you.”

You glower. “Thanks, asshole.”

He chuckles. “She’d make the best big sister, though. She would,” he insists, when you huff back against his chest. “She’d love being the oldest. Get to be bossy, get to call the shots. Get to protect them, no matter what.”

Your voice feels so small, as inquisitive as your daughter’s when you blink up at him. “Were you protective over Tommy?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean, he was annoying as all hell – and I told him so – but anyone else had anythin’ to say about him, and – well, they had me to deal with.”

“Big scary Joel Miller,” you whisper, yawning into his shirt. “I knew him once.”

“Mhm,” he rumbles, “You sure did.”

You look up again, blinking all doe-eyed and dreamy. Already half-asleep.

“He never scared me,” you whisper.

Joel smiles.

“Well, you scared the hell outta him.”

Saturday morning, you wake to an empty bed. No snoring man, no scribbling girl. Just you – a starfish on the mattress. Bathing in waves of late-morning sun, sheets for coral, body as heavy as though you really are at the bottom of the ocean.

Her giggles carry all the way upstairs. Sarah. They surf into the room on a sunbeam, sounds like bubbles which shatter and sprinkle over your aching body.

You smile into Joel’s pillow, breathing in the smell of him, and peel your eyes open.

It’s ten thirty. Definitely – you blink three times and rub at your eyes, just to make sure. Ten thirty, and something’s swirling behind your navel. Something that sharpens, sours, when you push yourself upright.

“Oh, shit,” you rasp, and throw yourself across the room.

You barely make it, collapsing in a heap at the toilet. Your stomach empties in seconds; three heavy, painful gags and your head is in the bowl, choking on last night’s dinner.

“Motherfucker,” you spit, gasping, “Oh, Jesus.”

You’re sick. You’re just sick. Sarah probably caught something from pre-K, passed it on without even knowing. And, hey – you feel better, now that that happened.

You’re just sick. Nothing else.

“Mornin’,” Joel calls, watching as you stagger into the kitchen.

Sarah mimics his drawl. “Mornin’, Mama.”

“Hi, Duckie.” You crumple into the chair beside her, shoulders hunched. The smell of burnt toast and grape juice twists up your nose, and you suck in a slow breath.

Joel sweeps a hand over your forehead. He tips your jaw up to face him. “You alright? Thought we heard running.”

Sarah rips a slice of toast in two. She stares at the fluffy insides, the jam dripping from the tear. The sight of it lifts the hairs on your skin, the gloopy mess splattering onto her plate.

“Just feel kinda…funny,” you slur, turning away.

“Funny? Funny how?”

“Funny how?” your daughter parrots.

You shrug. Every word, every inhale makes you feel even more nauseous. “Probably just ate something.”

“Heard that one before,” Joel drones, and you throw him a flat look.

Sarah licks the jam from her fingers. She holds her tiny hands up to her dad, snorts when he pretends to bite at them.

“Eat your breakfast, Duckie,” he says then – in his Dad voice. And in something softer, kinder: “Can I make you somethin’?”

You swat the idea away, but it’s already churning in your stomach again. “Just gotta – get over whatever it – is.”

The table falls silent. Joel and Sarah stare blankly at one another. When you turn to look at your daughter, she’s staring straight back. Smirking.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you clip, wincing again at the dribbling jam.

“Alright,” Joel utters, “I think you oughta take a test now.”

“That is not what this is,” you groan, petulantly pushing up from your chair.

He takes your hand, steadying you. “No? I was thinking about it, baby, and I don’t think we’ve been safe enough to be so sure.”

You dump your golden toast in the trash and turn, crossing your arms. Your shoulders lift. “We’re not being any less safe than we have been the last four years.”

“Safe,” Sarah says, and Joel holds a finger up.

“No,” he tells her. “No. Not that word. Go back to funny.”

She beams at him. “You’re funny, Daddy.”

He sighs, pacing over. “Look,” he lowers his plate into the sink, “I’ll take Duckie to the park. Let you rest up, give you a quiet house for the morning. But darlin’, if you’re not better by tonight, you’re takin’ a test.”

You grimace. “But she –”

“I know –” he grits his teeth, “– I know you don’t want her to be right. But I want you to be okay, more ‘n I want to prove my child wrong. Like it or not, you’re taking a damn test.”

Your eyes flit across to the kid swinging her legs in her chair, the splotch of jam down her Peppa Pig T-shirt. Your greatest accomplishment and your biggest challenge, wrapped up into a hundred-centimeter, jellybean-fueled monster.

Her cheeks lift, jam-covered and smug.

“Funny,” Sarah says, nodding.

The afternoon strings the sun high in the sky.

You’ve been home alone for the better part of an hour, busying yourself by cleaning to take your mind off the nausea tugging at your esophagus. Making and remaking beds, folding laundry until your fingers cramp.

Sarah’s room has never been tidier. Joel’s workshop has never seen so little dust. And you have never been more determined to prove your four-year-old wrong.

You’re lingering in the bathroom, the window gaping. Sucking in breath after breath of fresh air – which only serves to tickle the acid burning its way up your throat, entice it further.

You’re emptying the cabinets, reorganizing them into some senseless order. Playing Tetris with boxes of Band-Aids, slotting in tubes of toothpaste. You blindly reach behind your hip for the next box – a nearly empty thing which rattles when you lift it, jitters as though nervous.

You glance down.

“Fuck off,” you hiss, throwing it on the shelf beside some tampons.

It stares back at you, as blinding as the sun. The two display window examples, pregnant and not pregnant, like a wink peering out from the dull cabinet.

Your gums taste of bitter bile, rancid. Teeth furry and aching. Your entire body aches – though nothing quite so bad as the space below your ribs, still tender from all your retching.

Slowly, your hands slip down your front to cup your lower tummy. Rounder than before, suppler – bloated, even.

“’s from all the throwing up,” you tell nobody in particular. Maybe yourself. There’s a desperate edge to your voice, almost a plea.

But then – a plea to who? For what? There was nothing you loved more than carrying Sarah for nine months. Duck. Start saying duck. Baby Duck.

You were never on your own. She was right there. Someone to talk to, someone to complain to. Someone to weep to, in the quietest lulls of night.

Her language came to you as easily as your own. All her kicks and punches, her fucking acrobatics while you tried to sleep. It was love, in its most chaotic form.

And you loved her, the very moment you saw those two lines. The very moment you realized she’d been in there the whole time.

You realize now, squatted on your bathroom floor, that it feels the exact same. A warmth, radiating from your very core, if only you’d pay it enough attention to feel it.

Like there’s someone there. Right there.

“If you’re fucking with me,” you warn your stomach, reaching for the single test, “I will lose my shit.”

Love, in its most chaotic form bursts through your bedroom door no less than half an hour later.

“Hi, Mama!” Sarah sings, tearing through the room with her hands behind her back. Her knees bump against the side of your bed, the air about her summer-warm and pollen-sweet.

“Hi, little Duck,” you mumble, voice swollen. You wipe sleep from your eyes, asking, “How was the park?”

She answers with a wide grin on her face, whipping out a small, shabby bunch of flowers. Dandelions and daisies tangled around one another, loose petals scattering over your bedsheets.

“Oh, baby,” you push yourself up, ignoring the sickly weight in your stomach, “Are these for me?”

She nods. She dusts her hands free of grass when you take the bouquet. And then, as you smell them and hum with delight, she turns.

First, over to the dresser. She stares at her reflection, pokes at some of the makeup on the table. Then over to the window – where her breath fogs the glass. You hear the whack of Joel’s tailgate closing, and she tracks him into the house, before examining the windowsill.

You watch nervously as she drifts back over to the bed, a curious hop to her movements. Inspecting, like she knows there’s something waiting to be found. Someone.

“Did you have fun with Daddy?” you ask.

“Yep,” her small voice says, distant and distracted. She disappears into the dim bathroom.

You slump back down on the mattress, dropping the flowers in a clump on your bedside table. “I don’t even know when I fell asleep, baby girl,” you say through a yawn.

Sarah doesn’t reply.

“Duckie?”

“What’s this?”

You lift your head. “What’s wh…Oh, n-no, Duckie, wait –”

She flees past you, one fist raised and wielding the pregnancy test.

“Sarah! Jesus, fuck –”

You’re chasing after her before you have a chance to consider it – nausea be damned. She’s squealing something, roaring with laughter, blitzing out into the hallway. She swivels, ladders down the stairs backwards, leaps straight into the arms of –

“Christ, Sarah –”

Joel stumbles backwards with the force she throws at him. She’s safe in his arms by the time you reach the top of the stairs, waving the stupid stick around his head like it’s a magic wand.

“Daddy!” Sarah cries.

He glances up to you: hunched over the top step, panting, clutching your stomach. He pinches the test from her grasp. “What do we got here, baby duck?”

She kicks her feet. She has no fucking idea what they have, but she knows you didn’t want her near it – and if you know your kid, you know that’s all the catalyst she needed to fucking take it.

You slowly make your way down towards them, smirk growing the nearer you draw.

Joel glances down to the test. The creases by his eyes deepen. He hugs Sarah closer.

“Two...two means...pregnant, right?” he asks.

You sigh, nodding. “Mhm.”

His head lifts.

He breaks, the second he sees your expression. Eyes glassy, tears spilling onto your cheeks. The same smile you wore that June morning: sleep-deprived and shellshocked, a love pumping through your veins so strong that you thought you might burst with it.

Joel reaches for your hand, reels you in against his body.

“Shit,” he laughs, holding the test up.

Your shaking hands take it from him – though you already knew what it says. You were dreaming of it all when Sarah broke into your room.

Dreaming of linked hands and echoed giggles; of bunkbeds and matching surnames, of all four seats in the truck filled and all four chambers of your heart spoken for.

Dreaming of one on each hip, one in each hand. Dreaming of them tag teaming Joel, of the word kids slung with his southern twang. My kids, the kids, our kids. All ours.

Dreaming of two Sarahs, goddamn it. Because nothing ever completed your life as effortlessly as one Sarah, and – hell, she was born to follow in her dad’s footsteps and become the elder Miller sibling.

“Shit,” you agree, turning to sob into Joel’s chest.

“Duckie,” Joel says, voice hoarse and choked by tears, “You’re gonna be a big sister.”

She giggles, tracing the damp lines down your cheeks. As she reaches your jaw, the elation on her face slowly dwindles into something of a frown.

Your lips part to repeat it – a big sister, Duck – when her tiny voice steals the air from your lungs.

“Shit!”

[comatosebunny09]

personal headcanons | leon k.

genre(s): humor, romance, erotica, modern au warning(s): female reader in mind, language, age gap, self indulgent, fingering, oral, p in v, voice kink, mentions of choking, bodily fluids, dirty talk, pet names, mostly me being a horny spazz for this man, not proofread now playing: funny how time flies - janet jackson

‣ most of your jokes consist of poking fun at your age difference.

‣ seriously. gen x vs. gen y is strong with this one.

‣ prime example: you give him shit about his car still having a cassette player.

‣ “get with the times, grandpa.”

‣ “fuck off. it’s retro.”

‣ “you’re retro, old man.”

‣ thinks the fact you still watch cartoons is endearing.

‣ but, “what the fuck is adventure time?”

‣ will “back in my day” you until you roll your eyes and scoff, shutting him up with a kiss.

‣ has your back despite how often you call him old.

‣ like you’re not getting up there yourself—your aching back and knees!

‣ goes out of his way to bring you little trinkets and snacks when he goes on missions in other countries.

‣ it eats him up that he can’t divulge the secrets of his profession.

‣ never wants to hide anything from you; you make him want to give you the world.

‣ but he knows he has to keep some secrets to protect you.

‣ you love him nonetheless.

‣ tug on his little heartstrings when you fall asleep on the phone with him.

‣ or when he catches you between sleep and consciousness on the couch when he’s had another late night around the office.

‣ secretly loves whisking you off to bed like some knight in shining armor.

‣ ridiculously gentle despite his imposing figure and calloused hands.

‣ sometimes riddled with those intrusive thoughts of choking you because he knows he could crush you with how small you are compared to him.

‣ not like you’d complain—sometimes, you ask him to lose a little control.

‣ and that scares him shitless because, who made you like this?

‣ despite how badly he wants to show you how much he’s missed you, he lets you sleep.

‣ holds you tight while you sink below the depths of unconsciousness.

‣ because sometimes, letting you go feels like you’ll disappear in a plume of smoke.

‣ but when you awaken before the sun…

‣ oh, it’s on.

‣ because you think you’re so slick, rutting your little ass against him in the wee hours of the morning.

‣ challenge: accepted.

‣ knows what his voice does to you. how the low rumble of it makes you clench and stutter.

‣ and when you rub your thighs together to ward off that fuzzy rush of endorphins between them…

‣ fuck.

‣ “did somebody miss me?” he croons, his stubble coarse in the junction of your shoulder as he litters your neck with kisses and holds your chin in his massive hand.

‣ loves to tease you into submission.

‣ will touch and suckle everywhere except where you want him the most.

‣ and he will do this for hours until you growl for him to “stop being a little shit.”

‣ “thought you were sleepin’, baby.”

‣ plays with your pretty nipples until they’re pebbled and straining against your clothes.

‣ flitters his tongue over them, groaning because you taste and feel so goddamn good.

‣ spreads you open like a flower with long, languid strokes of his fingers.

‣ and the sticky glide of your cunt against his fingertips makes his dick jump.

‣ “makin’ a mess for me already, love? so fuckin’ cute, aren’t you?”

‣ alternates between circling your clit and testing the barrier of your sticky, slutty little pussy hole depending on how your body responds to him.

‣ because when you undulate your hips against him in response, he soaks his joggers with pre-spend.

‣ will make you cum at least thrice on his hand.

‣ and will keep fucking you through your orgasms because, who told you to feel this good?

‣ until you beg him for something more filling.

‣ can give you a solid two rounds in pound-town.

‣ he’s not as young as he used to be, god dammit. cut ‘em some slack.

‣ apologetic if he cums before you, though he makes it his mission to ensure you get yours first.

‣ but will finish you off with his mouth if you so please.

‣ eating you out is his favorite pastime. he gets hard all over again just from being between your legs.

‣ will twine your fingers together and maintain some semblance of eye contact while he unravels you with his mouth.

‣ and will groan into your cunt to let you know how appreciative he is for the meal.

‣ vocal af.

‣ will continue until your thighs clamp down on his face, signaling him to “s-stop. to-too much.”

‣ god forbid he’s in a teasing mood because you’ll have to punch him to get him to stop.

‣ but, you’re irresistible when you beg, and—

‣ fuck. he’s suddenly up for round 3.

‣ aftercare is immaculate.✨

‣ has a hard time keeping up with your energy sometimes.

‣ but will definitely heft you up with one hand as he walks you into the house to kiss you stupid against the wall of your entryway.

‣ will definitely dance on the table with you in his underwear.

‣ and indulges you in your childish requests—pillow fort? he’s down.

‣ content with just existing in your presence.

‣ you’re his vice; his kryptonite.

‣ and he’s hopelessly romantic for you.

‣ because you have him doing all the cliche shit. kissing in the rain. swinging hands on the beach, walking into the sunset. sporadically showing up at your job with flowers and takeout.

‣ grabbing your ass in public to let everyone know that yes, this old man’s hittin’ that.

‣ he’s head over heels for you.

‣ and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

‣ because you make him feel something he thought himself dead to for years.

[star-girl69]

imagine the little family but reader gets hit on by one of the new campers and the rest of the camp is waiting to see ivy and clarisse reaction 🌚

I LOVE THIS OMMGGGGGG

no bc this is specifically so funny and dear to me bc imagine

you’re like sitting with ivy and playing in the sand on the beach having a fun time

and then hi harry from better than revenge in an alternate universe

clarisse has been so busy lately bc it’s the start of summer and there’s all these new campers and things

so you haven’t been around each other as much 💔

dumbass harry walks over to you and is like “it’s so sweet how you treat your younger sibling like your own”

and ivy is preening at the attention of this nice boy who quickly realizes the way to your heart is through ivy

you just think he’s nice and playing with ivy in the sand and making a killer sand castle tbh….

then he says smth a little flirty like a compliment but neither you or ivy think much of it at first

then he’s like “oh hey here you have some sand on your face” and leans so close to you to brush your cheek with his thumb

woah buddy 😟😟😟😟😟

ivy is like ok what the freak (she’s not supposed to swear) (let’s be real she still does)

bc like she’s not dumb….. she knows the only person who touches you like this is clarisse and yeah this guy is nice but she doesn’t like him THAT much

he doesn’t look that strong he can’t be her jungle gym she’s not liking it

you’re sitting there in shock and ivy is getting mad bc HE SHUFFLES CLOSER TO YOU

she climbs into your lap and starts SCREAMING bloody murder and kicking out wildly at harry

“Y/N I WANT TO GO Y/N I WANT TO GO I WANT TO GO I WANT TO GO”

so you pick her up and rush your little butts out of there and harry is trying to follow you bc THIS BITCH WILL NOT GIVE UP DAMN

and you’re looking over your shoulder like GO AWAY

after another second you think he’s gone so you set ivy down

you crouch down and you’re pretty sure she just didn’t like harry flirting w you but you just wanna make sure smth wasn’t actually wrong

“hey are you guys okay?”

“RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” is ivy’s war cry as she jumps on top of harry and starts screaming and kicking and hitting him

AND YOURE SCREAMING TOO BC WTF??????

“IVY YOU GET DOWN RIGHT NOW NO DESSERT FOR THREE DAYS I SWEAR”

eventually everyone kinda heads towards the commotion of this 10 year old screaming and attacking harry and you desperately trying to pull ivy off of him

that is when clarisse walks over

she just stares at the scene for a second in absolute shock

then harry finally pushes ivy off of him and she FLIES into you like he pushed her HARD bc he’s a BITCH

and you weren’t expecting it so you fall back w ivy in your arms

CLARISSE IS ABOUT TO GO INSANE

she runs over but harry is like NO NO NO MY CHANCES ARE RUINED

so he’s desperately trying to help you up and you’re like oh my god i think i’m gonna die

ivy starts attacking him like a feral dog again

“YOU- HURT- MY- Y/N- STUPID HEAD!!!!!!!”

you need a leash for her atp

but by the time clarisse makes it over to you she realizes what’s going on

she crouches down next to you and says ivy’s name really intimidatingly and ivy is like

“OMG HI CLARISSE I LITERALLY SAVED Y/N’S LIFE ARENT YOU PROUD OF ME”

and after she looks over you and sees that your find just a little shocked and very tired (motherhood is hard) she decides to glare at harry

“okay and what does that mean?”

“ok so we were playing in the sand and then harry comes over and he’s nice and he’s helping me build my sandcastle and then he starts TOUCHING Y/N and getting all CLOSE TO HER and i was like woah wait hold on what the freak so then i threw a tantrum so we would leave BUT HE KEPT FOLLOWING!!!!!!! I JUST WANTED HIM TO GO AWAY BC YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO TOUCHES Y/N LIKE THAT SO I ATTACKED HIM AND THEN HE PUSHED ME SO I ATTACKED HIM MORE BUT NOW YOURE HERE!!!!!!”

harry is just horrified bc that’s exactly what happened this child was just throwing a tantrum 5 minutes ago how is she so articulated

she’s just smart like that tho

clarisse is like “oh so you’re flirting with my girlfriend? are you dumb? literally everyone knows.”

harry just accepts defeat and mutters a few choice words under his breath and walks away

clarisse debates about punching him but decides that ivy has already done all of the work for her

ivy hugs clarisse so tight

“you are so amazing my little warrior you did such a great job protecting y/n i am so proud”

then you join the hug “yes you’re my little knight in shining armor but please remember violence is not always the answer”

ivy and clarisse share a look like “this crazy lady just be saying stuff”

“EXCUSE ME???? BC I KNOW YOU TWO DIDNT JUST LOOK AT EACH OTHER LIKE THAT-”

you try to actually make ivy skip dessert for a few days but she’s so adorable so you give it to her anyways

clarisse teaches her how to properly throw a punch and kick someone

you are not pleased

ivy is ecstatic her new passion is fighting

harry stays far away from you

also percy is now campaigning to bring awareness to the clarisse and mini clarisse epidemic

he is very concerned.

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex

[anhonest-puck]

hellooooo!!! this is intro post v.3 :)

general info!!

name: neil, but ralph/ralphie works too :)

pronouns: she/he

age: MINOR!!! just be aware of that when talking to me please :’) (any1 can talk to me just don’t be odd)

birthday: may 14th

myers briggs type: ENFJ-T (the protagonist)

poetry blog: @nightskies-and-sweetnothings

fun facts!

i have a cat named ester jo

i’m part of the student council for my school (overachiever….)

i make jewelry/accessories (keychains, etc..)

i adore poetry and literature!!!

i’m a cheerleader

ocd and adhd!

tags!

#rambling on and on: literally just rambling. about what? who knows :’)

#neil’s tweaking hours ™️: tweaking and freaking out or something i thought it was funny

#my stuff: my art or other things!

#reblogging 🖌️: i’m honestly lacking on this tag recently but it’s just stuff i’ve reblogged :)

interests!!

dead poets society, lord of the flies, maxxxine, gravity falls, horror (i’m such a wuss but i love it sm :’) ), fantastic mr fox, halloweentown

music stuffs!!

the velvet underground (after hours, i found a reason)

the cure (friday, i’m in love, a night like this)

the smiths (how soon is now?, half a person)

joost klein (offline, PTSD)

lana del rey (doin’ time, fuck it i love you)

hozier (nobody’s soldier, angel of small death & the codeine scene)

mitski (carry me out, working for the knife)

tyler, the creator (answer, peach fuzz)

david bowie (lady grinning soul, heroes)

matt maltese (intolewd, curl up & die)

chris thile (falsetto, you’re an angel, and i’m going to cry)

nickel creek (where the long line leads, helena)

kin list!!

neil perry (dead poets society)

ralph (lord of the flies)

maxine minx (X, maxxxine)

lovely people!!

@noctilucaa @wilsons-three-legged-siamese @neil-perrys-suicidal-tendencies @lv3buzzz @yourfavvgal

@ace-misplaced @xxcherryberriezxx @sweaty-toothed-mad-woman @1mlostnow

@pingunaa @todds-diary @basementcorelingo @vessel214 @mikeru-funzies

@toddandersonsblog @neilperryismine @y-a-w-p @poetsinnyc @richardcameronshusband

@desire-mona @chaoticamberr @neil-perrys-reincarnation @sillypoetssociety @hyacinthi-mortem

@lefthandedspaghetti @grungelvrr222 @star-laboratory @vampjro @rubeslovesthesmiths

@ra1nc0at @persona5striker5

(if you’d like to be added/taken away from this list feel free to DM me!!)

if i ever talk about one of the dps boys and DO NOT tag the character in the tags, then i’m most likely talking about one of my irl friends!! i might tag if it fits but ill always say that too so just thought id specify 😸

please do ask if you’d like to be mutuals!!! i’m always open to new friends :) i don’t bite i swear.. maybe.. /j

[its-time-to-write]

Jamie tartt asking you to go on his brand trip (the one he asked Keeley on in the finale)

Thanks for being my first request! Hope ya like it <3

don’t make this any harder

It is almost the end of the football season, and all AFC Richmond can talk about are their plans once they get a break. You’re excited because it means you get more time with Jamie. You’ve been dating for about four months now, and it’s been weird. Good weird, not bad weird. Sometimes it’s just funny to you that Jamie took one look at you in that coffee shop and decided yep, that’s the one I’m going for. Honestly, you were a little surprised when someone had plunked a cinnamon latte on your small table, and even more surprised to look up and see that someone had some of the most gorgeous eyes you had ever seen. 

I’m Jamie, he had said. What’s your name?

And the rest is history.

This is the first time you feel like you are having fun in a relationship. Jamie has a way of getting you to loosen up and laugh for what feels like the first time in ages. After the first two weeks of dating, he starts to sneak into your flat through the window, so your flatmate won’t hear. A week after that, you go to your first Richmond game, wearing a number 9 with the name Tartt emblazoned across the back. 

Jamie has the idea early on to try to synchronize your lunch breaks, so you start having lunch together almost every day. It’s nice. 

It’s nice to want and to be wanted.

On paper, it looks like you see Jamie a lot, but you really don’t.

“Once football season’s over, we’ll have time, yeah?” he says.

You nod and count the days.

—

The season ends in three days, and you and Jamie are sitting on a bench while he eats whatever weird protein-based meal he has and you sip soup out of a thermos through a straw.

“I’m just saying it’s weird, babe,” Jamie says.

“Oh really, how is it any weirder than insisting on eating any kind of egg with a spoon?” you reply.

“Oi, I told you that in private!”

You both dissolve into laughter and once it fades, Jamie looks strangely pensive. You give him a gentle nudge on his shoulder. “Hey. What’s up?”

Jamie half turns to look at you with that pensive expression. “Eh, it’s nothin. Don’t worry about it.”

You raise your eyebrow at him and Jamie sighs. “Wish you wouldn’t do that, makes me feel insecure about me own lack of eyebrow control.” 

This makes you laugh again, but you’re not about to let him deflect that easily. You reach up with your thumbs to smooth his eyebrows. “C’mon Jamie, out with it. What’s on your mind?”

He’s still looking at you as he starts to speak, thinks better of it, then starts again.

“Babe,” he begins, taking your hand, “do you- I mean, you don’t have to, it’s super lame and like probably bad, so it won’t hurt my feelings if you say no- but do you want to come over for dinner on Saturday? I’ll like cook for ya and you don’t have to bring anything, but I thought it would be nice because now I actually have time to cook and I haven’t in ages, and like I said if you don’t want to, I get it, and-” he probably could have kept rambling on but you stop him.

“Jamie,” you smile, “I would love to! Why did that make you so nervous to ask?”

He shrugs. “I dunno, I guess- I mean, besides Keeley you’re kind of my first real relationship and I don’t want to fuck it up or scare you off.”

Oh. You let that process in your head for a moment as you squeeze his hand.

After a moment you say, “I’m not scared by your egg-eating habits and you’re not scared of my eyebrow muscles, so I think we’re going to be ok.”

Jamie pulls you close to him for a kiss, which is interrupted by an alarm on his phone. You both groan. Time to go back to work.

—

The rest of the week flies by and before you know it, you’re standing in front of Jamie’s door holding a bottle of wine. He said not to bring anything, but it gives you something to do with your hands and Richard has been begging you to let him explain wine for weeks now, so you figured you might as well. The weather is warm, so you’re wearing your favorite linen dress. It’s held together by a single wraparound tie on the side, easy to get on. And off. Odds are good that it will end up in a ball on Jamie’s floor before you have to go home.

You’ve barely knocked before the door swings open to reveal a smiling, nicely dressed Jamie.

“Hi,” you smile back.

He slips his arms around your waist and kisses you before saying, “C’mon in!” 

“You didn’t have to bring anythin,” he continues, holding open the door.

You shrug. “You know how Richard gets.”

Jamie huffs out a laugh and you follow him to the kitchen. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly was not this. This boy is making his own pizza and has set out the most impressive spread of toppings that you’ve ever seen. It looks and smells amazing.

“Jamie,” you say, still gaping at it all, “where on earth did you learn to do this?”

He looks up from rolling out a flat circle of dough, “Hm? Oh, eh I dunno. I like cooking and I like pizza, and you like pizza, and I’ve been making this recipe since like fuckin’ forever so I thought I’d just stick with an old classic. D’you mind stirring that?” He points to a pot on the stove with a wooden spoon poking out.

You literally have no words as you walk over and peer in.

“Jamie. Did you make this sauce?” you ask incredulously.

Jamie slaps his pizza dough with finality and leans up against the counter next to you, away from the flame.

“Uh yeah, I did,” he replies, scratching his neck. “Don’t overstir.”

You put down the spoon. “Jaim. How am I just now finding out about this. You’re pretty as hell, fantastic at football, and you cook?”

Jamie grins. “You think I’m pretty?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s what you got from this, you nerd?”

His hands have made their way to your waist again.

“Nice dress,” he says as he fiddles with the tie. “Got some good ideas for it later.”

You roll your eyes again, unable to suppress a grin. “Come here,” you say, pulling on his gold chain to get his lips at the right angle.

—

You’re halfway through dinner when Jamie has started to look pensive again. He denies it at first so you leave it, but after three more bites of your pizza he says, “Hey.”

You look up at him expectantly.

“I wasn’t, I mean I’m not- this wasn’t what I wanted to ask you,” he rushes out.

You tilt your head, still waiting.

“You know how we wanted to spend more time together this summer? Well, Nike have a branding thing for me in Brazil.”

You set down your slice and let out a soft “oh.”

“Yeah.” Jamie says. “So what d’you think?” Now he’s looking at you expectantly, and a little hesitant. You understand his nervousness now because you’re feeling it too. Four months is not a very long time to be together, and Brazil is a beautiful place with beautiful people. You can do a lot in Brazil.

You study your wine glass. “How long will you be gone?”

“Well, the shoot’s not that long, but I’ll probably be there a month. Nike’s paying for the whole thing, hotel, some of the meals, whatever. Flight’s next week. It’s mad.”

You nod. Jamie’s still looking at you.

Your mouth has gone dry. You’ll handle this with grace and at least you’ll go out on a good note with the best meal you’ve ever had. 

You’re still looking intently at the wine glass but you rip your eyes away and force yourself to look at Jamie.

“That’s great Jaim- Jamie. I’m happy for you. This is a big deal, and I’m sure you’ll love Brazil.”

Jamie’s face transforms into a look of relief as you speak.

“That’s great, yeah, I mean, I didn’t know what you’d think because obviously we talked about being together this summer and y’know, people say one thing but mean another, so I wasn’t sure, but that’s great!”

This boy and nervous rambling. He could give Ted a run for his money.

You force a smile, eyes on your plate now. You feel like all your energy has been drained from you in one fell swoop, while across from you Jamie is smiling like he won the lottery.

Is he really that excited to break things off with you?

He’s talking again so you do your best to focus on what he’s saying. 

“-And I was thinking we could go to this beach Keeley was telling me about and obviously we have to try all the food because granddad won’t be around to fuckin boss me around-”

What?

“Jamie,” you interrupt, “what?”

Jamie looks at you, confused. “What?”

“What are you talking about?”

Jamie looks at you like you’re mental. “I’m talkin’ about Brazil? The trip we’re goin’ on next week?”

Things are starting to click into place. You reach across the table and put your hand on top of his to steady yourself.

“You’re taking me on your brand deal?”

Now Jamie is really looking at you like you’ve gone mad. “That’s what I just asked ya. What are you on about?”

You stare at him for a moment then slowly say. “I thought you were breaking up with me so you could sleep with hot people in Brazil.”

Jamie stares back incredulously. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You throw your hands in the air. “You were so nervous to talk to me! You said you were going to Brazil! That’s what people do! They get nervous to break up so they use some big trip to make it seem easier! And you’re you and you’re young, hot, and famous, so why would you be dragging me around with you?”

“You think I’m hot?”

You’re going to throttle him. “You know I think you’re hot, I’ve let you see me naked. Can we please stay on topic?”

Jamie chuckles at that.

“Look, I was nervous ‘cause you’re like, really fit. But it’s like, you’re also fit mentally? And I don’t get a lot of girls like that who also like me back. And Nike’s only paying for one room so… there’s that.”

He’s blushing a lot for someone who has been caught hopping out of your window at 3am.

Your head is in your hands now. Jamie gets up from his seat and pulls you up from your chair into his arms.

“Babe,” he says into your hair, “will you come to Brazil with me for a month while we fuck around like the hot couple that we are?”

You nod into his chest then lift your head to look at his face. He’s smiling at you. “I’m a dumbass,” you say.

His smile grows as he strokes your cheek.

“Yeah, but you’re my dumbass,” he says as he reaches for that tie on the side of your dress.

[wakandas-vibranium]

Funny How Time Flies (When You’re Having Fun)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Married Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI, smutty smut, infidelity, dirty talk, oral sex(f+m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, creampie

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: Javier doesn’t give a damn about your husband’s feelings and comes back for seconds.

A/N: I’ve been listening to this song nonstop and just felt like writing some Javier Peña smut. Please like, comment, and reblog!

How’d you end up back here?

You knew what would happen as soon as you stepped foot inside his apartment. 

You couldn't believe you were back at Javier's place, in his bed, making out with him like a horny teenager.

There was a fire in you that used to blaze brightly, but with each passing married year, the flame faded darker. That is, until you met Javier Peña. The instant he introduced himself, he had you wrapped around his finger, and that once dark flame flared into a scorching orange so fierce it would burn your husband's eyes right out of their sockets.

Javier rocked your world in more ways than one, and who in their right mind would give something like that up?

Javier dropped by your workplace with the excuse that he had gotten an anonymous tip that some of Escobar's guys had been spotted there. You knew it was a lie. He just wanted to see you again. You had been ignoring his phone calls out of guilt for what you two had done, but something deep inside you missed him. In a way, you needed him, and he knew it. So you agreed to drive over to his place once your shift was done. 

To talk.  

You shifted your weight, draping a leg over Javier's, straddling him, and— fuck, Javier was as hard as a rock. You could feel the length of him through his tight blue jeans, and you pulled back, giving both of you a moment to catch your breath.

You slid your fingers through his hair when you kissed him again and gently tugged at the brown tresses as you rocked your hips down into his, seeking friction that made both of you gasp. Javier pressed his forehead against yours, drinking your air and clinging to your body as tightly as you clung to his.

You broke the kiss, cupping his face as you gazed into his chestnut-brown eyes and said, guilty, “We probably shouldn’t be doing this again.” 

He just peered back into your eyes and raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smirk. You knew he could see right through you. He knew you wanted this. Needed this. Your body reacted loudly to his. You've been craving him for weeks. It had been four long weeks since he had last fucked you, and your body ached for him.

“You want me to stop?” he whispered.

You shook your head no quickly, not realizing how hungry you were for his touch. Was it wrong for you to be this down bad for a man who wasn't your husband? Yes. Was it your fault that your husband repeatedly pushed you away and hadn't touched you in twelve months? No. At the very least, Javier was willing to give you what your body desired. And boy, was he good at it.

Javier knew that you were married, but he couldn't care less. Especially after discovering that your husband was not treating you properly. He often tried to ease your nerves about your sexcapades, but the guilt persisted most of the time.

Javier just leaned in and kissed you again, keeping it gradual and letting his hand curve around the middle of your back as you kissed him back, enthusiastically, passionately, and with so much heat that it damn near made the both of you dizzy.

Your hands hovered at the hem of his shirt, but only for a moment before you pulled it up and over his head. Javier tugged on your eggshell-colored blouse, untucking it from your pink pencil skirt, and yanked it off, unclamping your bra before your top could hit the floor.

He cupped both your breasts in his hands, squeezing them tight as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, switching between tugging on it gently and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. 

“Javier,” you moaned, panting lightly.

As he repeated the motion with your other nipple, you let out a desperate whine. As your clit throbbed, the wet patch on your underwear grew larger. 

You tugged him to the edge of the bed, then slid down his body to the floor, crouching between his legs, and stroked his still-clothed cock once, twice, three times before Javier finally lifted his hips and unbuckled his belt.

You helped with slipping his pants and underwear over his hips, down his legs, and around his ankles. Javier let out a little groan as your fingers wrapped around his bare thigh and around his thick cock, leaning forward to drag your tongue across the oozing tip. 

The sight of him on the bed, all loose and charming, ignited an upsurge of warmth through your body. You couldn't remember ever wanting someone so badly.

You tongued the slit, licking the bulb of precum that had gathered there, moaning in delight as the sweet, zingy flavor flooded your tastebuds. When you glanced up at Javier through your eyelashes, he was already peering down at you, digging his teeth into his bottom lip to suppress a deep groan once you took him in your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around the crown of his cock before taking him deeper into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, enjoying the low whines spilling past his lips.

"Fuuuck," he cursed, "Such a good girl." His groans rose louder as he basked in the exquisite heat of your mouth. His noises and praises merely encouraged you to take him deeper. You hollowed your cheeks and took him down as far as you could, gagging slightly as the tip of his cock slipped down your throat. You swallowed around him before pulling off some, and he hissed lowly in delight.

“Do you suck Benito’s cock like this?” 

You felt a rush of heat spring to your face at the bluntness of his question. He never shied away from mentioning your husband while you two fooled around. You weren't sure why he did it, but a tiny part of you liked it.

“Hell no,” you said as you pulled off his cock with a soft pop to huff a small laugh, “I don’t suck it at all.”

“Bueno,” he chuckled softly, cutting himself off with a deep groan as you squished his cock between the middle of your breasts, stroking the shaft up and down as you took the tip of his cock back between your wet lips, “He doesn’t deserve a mouth like yours anyway.” 

You squeezed your breasts together closer around his cock as he fucked up into your mouth, letting out all kinds of curses and filthy noises. You felt your clit throb hard and moaned around him, the vibrations nearly sending him over the edge.

“Fuuuuck, baby. Nghh— you have to stop or I’ll cum.” 

"Okay," you rasped, letting his spit-slicked cock fall out of your mouth. You sat back and stroked him a few times with both hands before rising to your feet to remove your skirt and panties.

Javier stepped out of his pants and underwear, kicking them across the floor, before he stood to help you pull down your skirt and underwear. Once you were naked, he maneuvered you to lay down on your back against the bed, slotting himself between your legs. His thick cock brushed against your clit, and you let out a soft whine.

He kissed your lips once, twice, and then moved his lips down your neck to your chest. He sucked your nipples for a while before moving his lips down your stomach and stopping at your wet cunt.

“You’re already soaked for me and I haven’t even touched you,” he teased.

Javier leaned down, his hands resting on top of your lower stomach, licking a warm stripe up your wet slit, humming in satisfaction as the splendid taste of you filled his palate. He pushed your legs apart further and slung one over his shoulder as he softly kissed your thighs, pressing his teeth into the meat just enough to make you cry out in ecstasy. He discovered last time that you enjoyed the feel of teeth against the most tender parts of your body. As he rolled your clit between his thumb and forefinger, he licked his lips with hunger. His cock jumped as your pussy glistened in his dimly illuminated bedroom.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby,” he praised.

You let out an obscene groan as he curled his lips around your clit, alternating between powerful tugs and twirling licks.

You ran your fingers through his hair to orient yourself. He plunged his tongue inside your hole, shaking his head from left to right, slurping up your sweet wetness. You squirmed and moaned as you ground against his tongue. 

He licked his way back up to your clit, sucking hard on the sensitive bud as he slipped two fingers inside of you.

“Oooo baby,” you gasped as he spread his fingers, stretching your cunt so that you would be able to take his fat cock without any problems. 

You couldn't decide which aspect of Javier you liked best. His sultry voice, talented tongue, long fingers, or thick cock. For the time being, the answer would just have to be E, all of the above.

“Tell me,” Javier demanded against your cunt, hooking his broad fingers upward and twisting them much faster, you’re so wet squelching noises fill the room.

“Fuck—it feels so good, Javi,” you panted as he placed gentle kisses on your inner thighs. The complete opposite of what his fingers were doing to your cunt. Your thighs trembled as you clenched around his long fingers. 

“Javier, I’m gonna cum,” you warned, head thrashing against the pillows, eyes fluttering closed as the tight coil that sat low in your belly began to unravel swiftly. 

“You know that I want it,” he purred against your sensitive clit, “Give it to me.” 

You were driven home by the combination of his filthy words and the seductive timbre of his voice. Your moans grew louder as he talked you through an orgasm your husband hadn't been able to give you in years. Your fingers pulled at his soft brown waves as you convulsed against the bed.

"Hands and knees," Javier growled as he backed up to give you room to maneuver yourself into the position he liked having you in most.

Javier pulled you back by the waist against his hips once you were in position, aligning his thick cock with your dripping entrance.

You both sighed deeply once he pushed inside, inching in oh so slowly.

He began with a slow rock, his eyes glowing as he looked down to watch your pussy stretch around his cock. He enjoyed fucking you from behind as much as you did. He was a little rougher in this position, and you couldn't get enough of it.

“You take my cock so fucking well, baby,” Javier praised, fucking you harder and deeper, groaning even louder as you rocked back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust. 

Javier's forceful thrusts made your breathing more rapid and your moans louder. He fucked so well. He knew just how rough you needed it. 

"Yessss," you whimpered as Javier brushed against that sweet spot deep inside you, toes curling as you rocked back against him much harder, chasing your orgasm. "Just like that, Javi. Please don't stop, baby."

The rougher Javier fucked you, the less guilty you felt about stepping out on your inconsiderate husband.

“I love the way you fuck me, Javier!” 

Slapslapslapslapslapslapslapslapslap.

“Who fucks your pussy the best?” He growled, reaching under you to rub circles into your clit. You choked on a sob as your thighs began to shake, unable to answer his question because he was quite literally fucking the air out of your lungs. 

“Dime!” He demanded, smacking your asscheek because you didn’t respond fast enough. 

“Aaahh!” you cried out as he brought his large hand down against your asscheek again, “Yo—shit— you do Javier!”

You came hard, and you came loud. Javier's neighbors had to have heard you by now, and you couldn't find a fuck to give. Your orgasm ripped through you, instantly sending you to cloud nine. Its power exploded through you, directly to your brain, nearly knocking you unconscious.

“M’gonna cum inside you,” he panted harshly as he hammered inside you, making the headboard slam back against the wall repeatedly, “Tell me why.” 

“Be-because—fuuck— because this pussy is yours.” you rasped. 

“Damn right, baby.” 

“You feel so fucking good,” you whined as he wrapped his arm around your neck and brought you flush against his chest, “Cum for me, Javi.” 

"I’m cummin’, baby." Javier warned, panting wildly as his thrusts lost their rhythm and became more erratic. He rocked into you once, twice, three times before spilling inside you with a low, guttural groan, jolting against your back.

You turned your head inward, and he kissed you sloppily, swallowing his groans as you kissed him back just as sloppily, licking into his mouth.

You lost count of time in each other's embrace. Nothing else mattered at the time. Only Javier. You didn't want to leave, but a revolting feeling swept over you as you realized you weren't his to have.

“Shit!” you cursed as you glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was 4:05am. You and Javier had been rolling around in his sheets for hours. “I wasn’t supposed to stay this late. I have to go.”

He placed a sweet kiss on your shoulder and said, “Don’t go, baby.” 

“Oh, I really have to go,” you whispered, biting back a moan as he placed a wet kiss on your neck. You knew what he was doing. He knew that that was your weak spot. 

He kissed the middle of your breasts and said, “Stay.” 

“Stop,” you let out a small giggle as he playfully motorboated your breasts. 

“Quédate un poco más,” he chuckled lowly, mischief sparkling in his beautiful chestnut-brown eyes. 

“S-stop Javier,” you said weakly, moaning as he sucked your nipple into his mouth.

"Let me eat you out one more time before you go," he whispered, trailing delicate kisses down your chest, stomach, and inner thighs.

“One more time?” you asked, raising a curious eyebrow, as you watched him wedge his head between your thighs. 

You would be a damn fool to turn down head from Javier. His skills were far too immaculate to be shooed away. 

He just nodded his head and wrapped his talented lips around your clit, making you once again, putty in his hands.

[oceanic-sunsets]

Mike around El and his very obvious Not-Crush

I want to start this off with a disclaimer: I interpret Mike as gay, so this analysis and the points I’ll bring up were written with this in mind. Now, let’s begin! 

Since my first watch, I always thought it was kind of weird-funny how Mike never showed any kind of shyness towards El, unlike the other boys, who the audience and characters in-universe never think of as having a crush on El. 

So they know El is a girl pretty early on, so when she first goes home with Mike and he lends her dry clothes, everyone freaks out when she tries to change right there in front of them. Pretty normal reaction for anyone, especially 12 year old boys! So, even in the middle of their freak out, Mike remains as the most well composed of the boys.

He doesn’t turn around, instead, is quick to stop her, even reaching out towards her arms, and explain she should change in the bathroom, because, well, privacy. 

He even guides El towards the bathroom door, and we know that he tries to close it but El stops him. So, he understands, she’s still scared, and again, explains she can keep it mostly closed, leaving a small gap open so she feels safer. 

And then Mike goes to talk with Lucas and Dustin, who are still freaking out and talking about how she’s crazy, Lucas remarks “She tried to get naked” and Dustin makes the same hand gesture three times to really drive his point across. 

And Mike? remains calm, really, his head is elsewhere, not stuck on the fact that a random, weird girl tried to change her clothes in front of them. Instead, his gears are turning, he’s already coming up with a plan so they can stay out of trouble, so she can be safe, and they can keep looking for Will: El has to stay the night, which Dustin finds insane.

So, I first interpreted these kind of scenes as Mike being the more mature one of the boys. He NEVER goes “but she’s a girl!” the other characters are the ones who keep pointing that out to him. But really, Mike just treats her like a human being (and then he discovers she has superpowers). 

And really, it’s funny how fascinating they keep finding this, but not surprising. Again, this is a normal reaction! that’s why I thought Mike was just the logical, more mature one. But that’s not really why: he just never made a distinction or a big fuss to separate THEM, boys, and El, a GIRL, until later on when people kept bringing that up. For Mike, El was just another kid just like them, he shows her his house, his TV, his toys, and has no issue getting close and just treating her like another friend. 

There’s another reason that points to the Duffers being aware of what they’re trying to do. It’s subtle if you’re not looking for it, and really, it just flies under most people’s radars, including our own! 

So we all know this scene, right?  

The first instance of Mike being directly told he has to have a crush on her, because… he is nice to her, and she’s a girl. So, clearly. And then the bullies arrive, call Will homophobic slurs and Mike gets hurt, we know how that one goes. But you know the scene that plays directly before this one? 

It’s Nancy. They’re making fun of her/shaming her because she hooked up with Steve, and we know how this plot goes too: the girl is slut-shamed and the boy is praised/admired for “getting” her. Nancy is worried because she left Barb alone and the next thing she knows, her friend is missing too. And she doesn’t feel guilty just because she dismissed Barb, she feels shame, and the kind of comment she’s receiving just adds to the guilt. 

And all this? it’s part of heteronormativity too, and all its social standards of what’s expected of people based on their gender and sexuality. Nancy? A slut for hooking up with Steve. Will? probably killed for being gay! The boys? get bullied just as Lucas is hugging Mike, even if it’s part of a joke. Mike? must like El, because he is a boy who is nice to her, and she’s a girl! See where I’m going? 

Next scene I’m going to talk about is this one: 

And… It’s a great scene, really. But nothing about it is romantic. The boys help El dress up, and Mike even does her makeup and doesn’t mind! and, I’m sorry, but what 12 year old with a crush is NOT nervous to be that close? he’s just 100% concentrated in what he’s doing.

And then El comes out, full makeover, and Mike’s reaction is just very sweet and genuine. Dustin hesitates: “She looks…” and Mike immediately goes “pretty”. Now, some people interpret this scene as Mike finally Realizing El is Actually a Girl. I both agree and disagree. 

I agree because that’s how it probably goes for Mike, just now in the sense most people expect. We should keep in mind the previous scenes: Mike is now aware of what other people think/what is expected of him. So he goes “pretty”, and oh, no, she’s a Girl, I can’t say that! they’re going to think I have a crush on her! “...pretty good” saved it:) but wait. That just makes it look even more like a crush! So maybe it is a crush, right? So, I think of this scene as the moment of Mike deciding that yeah, it must be a crush, making now a distinction between “friend” and “girl”.

Other people have mentioned how particular this choice is: why would they have Mike next to El in the mirror? in the same scene where she’s presenting herself as Actually a Girl for the first time, wearing a pink dress, next to Mike, a Boy, who is even wearing blue! I don’t even think this analysis classifies as far-fetched for the same reason I mentioned earlier: the themes of the show are clear since the beginning, and plots like Nancy’s, Will’s, and later on El’s (and Max's) support that. Mike’s, however? it comes across as subtle (because really, it’s not), but it’s always been there, and the way the Wheelers are portrayed as a family confirms that too. 

 I don’t think he consciously makes the choice to pretend, more like it makes sense for him too, and the future events of the show just keep reinforcing this idea: she’s a girl with superpowers, who saves him and his friends many times, and people keep telling him he likes her! why wouldn’t he like her? And then there’s also survivor’s guilt but uhh… Let’s not go there, that’s another whole analysis. 

It’s now time to talk about my least favorite topic: mlvn’s kisses. They have never been portrayed as genuinely romantic to me, even if I did think the snowball one was sweet when I first watched it. But that’s the thing: it’s cute, I guess, but it’s just there like a point you have to mark as done in a checklist. Entirely different to Lucas’ and Max’s scenes: Lucas hesitates when he asks Max to dance, and he’s clearly nervous, exhaling before asking, and their kiss is awkwardly endearing, genuine, and realistic for their age unlike anything in Mike and El’s relationship and… The beginning of s3 is proof of that. It’s almost like they’re kissing to prove a point: El is older now, and Mike is her boyfriend, they kiss like in the soap operas! (for Hopper’s and the audience’s dismay) and for Mike, well, El is his girlfriend, that’s what he’s supposed to do, right? (as he takes her hands off him). 

Going back to the snowball, Mike plays the “date” role too perfectly. He does exactly what he should: he tells El she looks beautiful and asks her to dance, again, no hesitance. They dance and he kisses her… You guessed it, no hesitance. You could argue that it’s because it’s not their first thing, but the thing is… That one was a mess. It was out of nowhere, after talking about being family, as if Mike suddenly thought “yeah I think I should do this” and went for it. And… Did El even know what a kiss was? 

Anyway, back to s3. They break up and all that, supernatural shit happens and oh! Mike tells a whole room of people that he loves El! how can that not be proof that he at least has a crush? well. Because Mike is not lying, just as he wasn’t lying when he called her pretty. He does love her, wants her to be safe because she’s his friend, and feels responsible for her safety (for many reasons). The thing is… Mike is aware of the Implications of the word.

He is being honest. He’s also confusing his feelings for romantic ones, just like he has since mid-s1. What’s the difference between the “ily” plot in s3 and in s4, then? wouldn’t that just be a repeat of the same? 

No. This is a point of debate and I know we have different opinions on “When Did Mike Realize”, but for me, the contrast between this plot in s3 vs s4 is that s3 Mike is unaware, while in S4 he’s IS aware Throughout s3 (and before) he genuinely thinks his feelings are romantic. Until THIS happens

 …and suddenly he’s confused, thinking it makes no sense. I choose to interpret it this way because it’s supported by the S3 script, which portrays Mike as confused and wondering what is wrong with him. This would’ve been a great moment to portray Mike as endearingly nervous/shy: they’ve been broken up and it seems like no one had said anything that hinted at a romantic relationship during that time. If Mike had romantic feelings for El, he should’ve been thrilled, but he doesn’t move, doesn’t close his eyes, doesn’t even smile. But it’s not disgust, it’s confusion. He’s starting to question things. To what degree? we do not know. 

We can, however, infer from the events of S4 that he knows something. 

The airport scene is as sad as it is funny, because this is probably the first instance in the whole show that we see Mike Wheeler acting nervous-shy in the way you would in front of a crush: 

(Exhibit A)

(Exhibit B)

ok, Mike, Will didn’t imply otherwise? are you trying to convince him or yourself? 

(Exhibit C)

(Exhibit D)

This whole conversation is so insane because everyone is so focused noticing Will’s crush that they miss Mike’s behavior? Mike, who during this conversation hesitates a lot, chooses his words carefully, exhales, you can see him swallow and just. He looks more nervous here than in the entirety of ALL his scenes with El on the show.

I could keep going on about s4, really, because there’s a lot to unpack there. But this is getting too long!

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Cookie monster || NH13

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : we can’t be friends (wait for your love - Ariana Grande

Nico Hischier x Reader

Synopsis: At the end of a get-together, your cookie jar always ends up empty. You hatch out a plan to catch whoever is eating all of the cookies. Not once, did it cross your mind that they might be your Swiss neighbor friend from across the hall.

Word count: 1.615

Masterlist

I’m a sucker for neighbor au’s. Anyway, not too happy with this one and it probably doesn’t make much sense. But it’s late, and it’ll do for now.

You wouldn’t say you have a ton of friends. You simply have a select few close ones. They range from being high school friends that you’ve known for years and kept in touch with, to friends you’ve made at work, to your hockey-loving neighbor. Truth be told, you’re not that big of a hockey fan. So it’s a miracle how you became such close friends in a short time. Nico likes to say that it’s nice to have a friend who barely knows anything about the hockey world. He likes the fact that he has a clueless friend in his life for when he wants to relax after a few tough games. Of course, he’s also glad to celebrate with you when he does have some smooth-sailing games. Even though you might not know what’s going on half of the time, you’re always genuinely happy about his achievements. This he appreciates a lot. He might even love you for that, but he won’t admit that to you.

Every time you hold a get-together at your apartment. You’ve noticed something peculiar. The jar of cookies you’ve set out for your friends to eat if they decide to come over is always empty after they visit. Now, you aren’t mad about this relegation. You are just curious about who is eating all of your cookies. You’re glad someone is enjoying your homemade cookies, but you'd like to know who this cookie monster is. It’s a small jar that can only hold a few cookies. So you don’t mind it that much. If anything, you think it’s quite funny.

You’re hosting another get-together after your last one, which was a few weeks ago. You’re determined to catch your cookie eater. You’re going to try to keep an eye on your jar while mingling with friends. You put some of the newest batch of cookies in the cookie jar and set it on your kitchen counter. Free for them to take. Shortly after the silence in the apartment gets interrupted by knocking at your front door. You wipe your hands while walking over. You open your door. A smile instantly spreads across your face. “Nico! It’s good to see you again!” You say happily as you usher him inside. He chuckles softly, sending a tingle through your body. Are you crushing on your Swiss neighbor? Definitely. You can’t deny that. But will you tell him? Absolutely. Not. You’d do anything for him. “It’s good to see you too. How have you been?” He asks and sits down on the couch. You shrug, “it’s been okay. Been busy recently, it’s great to have some free time on my hands again.” He nods. He’s about to say something before he gets interrupted by another knock on the door. You offer him a small smile. “Sorry about that.” He waves it off. “It’s fine. Go ahead.” Without needing to say more you let more friends in. With a quick hug and a quick exchange, everyone is sitting in your living room and conversing with one another.

You come out from the kitchen with drinks and some snacks on a platter and set it on the coffee table. You hop onto the couch next to Nico and join in on the conversation. Time flies by quickly, and before you know it you and Nico are the only ones left in your apartment. Nico looks at the time on his phone. “I think I should get going. I need to take care of some stuff.” He says and gets up from the couch. You follow suit. “Alright. You should come over sometime soon again. It’s been fun.” He nods and smiles. “Oh yeah, for sure. We’ll talk about it. You should come over to mine next time.” You nod. “We’ll talk about it.” You say your goodbyes and he leaves. You watch him enter the apartment across from yours. He gives you a small wave before he closes his door.

You shut your door and head to the kitchen. You didn’t pay attention to the cookie jar like you said you would. You lay your eyes upon the jar, only to find it empty again. You sigh and grab the jar. You put it in the sink and clean it before storing it away again. So much for catching your cookie monster.

***

You’re holding once again another meet-up. You’re baking another batch of cookies to fill your jar. This time you have a solid plan. Some would say it’s foolproof. One by one your friends start piling in and welcoming themselves on your couch. Nico is the last to arrive this time. He apologises but you shrug it off. It's not a big deal to you. You’re just glad he was able to come. Everyone converses with each other again. You and Nico mainly talk with each other. The others don’t mind they encourage it. They know you have a thing for the 6 ft 1 Swiss hockey player. It’s as if it’s obvious to everyone but Nico. You stand up, “I’m going to the bathroom for a second. I’ll be back in a minute.” You tell him. He nods. “Alright. Go ahead.” You take that as your sign to set your plan in motion. You’re not going to the bathroom. You’re going to hide in the hallway, it has the perfect view of the kitchen. If you wait here long enough you’ll know who’s leaving your cookie jar empty.

Sure enough. A wandering Nico enters the kitchen. He sees your cookie jar. Some cookies have already been eaten by your friends. He grabs one and eats it. He smiles happily as he munches on them. He quickly eats one by one. They’re all gone in five minutes. He wipes his mouth to get rid of the crumbs and heads back to the living room. You’ve finally caught your cookie monster. It was oddly cute how he was scarfing down your cookies. You shake your head but can’t help but let out a small chuckle. You’re pleasantly surprised that Nico has been liking your cookies so much. You make a mental note to make another batch for him so that you can give him those the next time you go to his place.

You enter the living room. From a supposed bathroom break. You have a knowing grin on your face. Nico chuckles, “What’s that grin for?” He asks curiously. You shake your head, “nothing. I just came to a realization.” He doesn’t believe you, you can see that on his face. But he doesn’t pry you further. “Whatever you say, Schatz.” He has been calling you that a lot lately. You don’t have a clue what it means, and every time you bring it up he says it’s something they say back in Switzerland. He likes calling you that, and he has been doing that ever since he first slipped up.

Soon enough everyone leaves again. Before Nico leaves he turns to you. “Come over this weekend if you’re free. I’m going to be free. I won’t mind your company.” He says with a small smile. You let out a chuckle. “Sure I’ll come over. I’ll see you then. Is Saturday good?” He nods. “Perfect. See you then.”

***

Saturday comes quicker than you thought it would. You’re making another batch of cookies, this time it’s solely for Nico. Now that you know he has been eating them you work hard to make them perfect. You put dollops of cookie dough on the baking sheet and flatten them. You shove the cookies into the oven and set a timer of ten minutes. You clean up in the meantime. The timer goes off and starts beeping. You take the cookies out and let them cool for another ten minutes. After they cooled you put them in the jar again.

When it’s time to hop over to his place, you make sure to grab the jar and lock the door behind you. You cross the hallway and knock on his door. He opens and his eyes flicker down to the jar of cookies in your hands. He motions for you to come inside. He leads you to his living room and offers you to sit. You place the jar on his table. He looks at it and smiles at you. “It’s only us two tonight. You didn’t have to make them.” You give him a knowing grin. “I was starting to wonder where all my cookies went. I think it’s safe to say I found my cookie monster.” He stumbles over his words before you interrupt him with a laugh. “It’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. I find it rather endearing.” You point to the full cookie jar. “These are all for you. Just return the jar to me when you finish them.” He visibly relaxes and lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Although you didn’t have to.” You let out a small chuckle. “I don’t mind baking you more cookies if you like them.” He smiles. “If it isn’t too much trouble. I wouldn’t mind it.” He says softly. You nod determinedly. “Then more cookies are coming up for Nico Hischier.” You tease him a little. He lets out a boisterous laugh. He winks at you. “I’ll be waiting for them.”

You can’t help but feel like you’ve gotten closer, despite him being your cookie monster. And who knows? Perhaps tonight will be the extra push you need. One thing is for certain. Your feelings for the Swiss in front of you are blooming strongly into something more than just a silly crush.

[telvess]

Headcanons for all the characters including Jack since it’s based on Hamlet watching The lion king with the reader. (the original animated movie not the live action remake.)

Record Of Ragnarok Characters x Reader watching together The Lion King (headcanons) 🔞

You know, I haven’t watched The Lion King in… well I watched it once when I was kid and that’s it. Mulan, Hercules and Tarzan were my movies. Anyway I ended up watching The Lion King again to refresh my memory.

Qin

A what? Are you involved? Then Qin would agree to do anything.

He’s like a big kid - chill and carefree, even more than usually. Both of you goof around, Mr. Emperor tries to sing without knowing words, popcorn flies around, you pause a movie in stupid moments to make him laugh etc.

You get a stomachache from laughing too much and Qin obviously has to get infected.

Just two morons have time of their afterlife.

The only moment when there is silence is when Simba loses his father. That scene just hits too close to home and remains Qin about Chun Yan. However he doesn’t let it bother him too much.

HAKUNA MATATA

You both loudly encourage lions to battle.

At the end he asks what other movies you like.

Jack

Because he isn’t familiar with the concept of love and how to express it, spending time with you is probably Jack’s way to show his affection. If you ask him to watch an animated movie together, he’d politely agree, even if it’s not his thing.

Expect tea. And cheddar apple pie.

Jack sees Simba’s journey as a lovely and naive story. Deep inside he does compare himself to that lion cub and wonders what kind of person he would've become if he had only received help from strangers. On top of that Jack actually killed his parents, so it’s odd to him to see how much Simba struggles with remorse over Mufasa’s death which wasn’t his fault.

Truth to be told Jack might mentions some quotes from Shakespeare IF you point out similarities between the movie and Hamlet. These resemblances aren’t very visible. But it may be enough to start an interesting conversation.

The ending of the story may seems a bit bitter to Jack. Whoever was meant to be good, stayed good, and whoever was meant to be bad - stayed bad. Kinda depressing outcome for a man who’s trying to change himself, right? You’d have to talk about it and remind that it’s just a simplification made for children.

Now it’s time for a cuddle session.

Loki

Do you really want to do this to yourself? You’re very naive if you expect to have a fun with this guy while watching this kind of movie.

At first it’s just boring to him, but after awhile he amuses himself by coming up with new ways to destroy the show. He makes a loud comment every time the opportunity arises. For example, there is a scene where Zaku tells young Simba and Nala that they’d be married one day, to which Simba replies: No way! She’s my friend! You can hear a loud snort on the side, followed by She’s your SISTER, dumbass!

Loud chewing.

Hey, y/n, do you know that once Simba becomes the king, he will have kids with every lioness? Even his mom?

Do they have to sing all the time?

DON’T YOU DARE mention that you can see a similarity between him and hyenas or forget about chips, popcorn, whatever you two are eating.

Phew! It’s finally over. Wanna do something funny, y/n?

Adamas

Childish entertainment but once he sees that your eyes get wet with tears, he quickly agrees.

A cheerful start bores him but except tactless way of sitting, he doesn’t do anything to ruin your fun.

Even if Mufasa’s death was expected, it still hits hard Adamas. Basically catches him off guard. It remains him about his last meeting with Poseidon: his brother’s pure contempt towards him, that dead, indifferent expression of his face when he pierced Adamas with his trident, then cold surrounding body and Poseidon’s back as he walked away. But while the movie continues, a new digression haunts Adamas. He plays that scene again in his head and it hits him harder, because he realizes that he almost became Scar to Zeus.

So now he sits stiffly on his ass with a very depressed expression. One look at him is enough for you to know that you have to pause the movie and talk to a guy. At first he rejects your attempts, but very quickly ends up letting you hug him tight. Still plays a tough idiot tho…

Beelzebub

Most of the time he just sits next to you with lifeless expression.

Hakuna matata his ass.

Beelzebub secretly enjoys when you sing, but it’s really hard to catch him with a smile on his face. If you manage to do so, he reluctantly admits it. Good luck with convincing him to join you.

He doesn’t have any deeper thoughts about the movie.

If you mention that Timon and Pumba remain you Samael and Azazel, Beelzebub would just give you a dull look. After awhile he starts to notice that too and has mixed feelings about it.

Hrist

She finds this idea very sweet. It’s relaxing and enjoyable.

When Scar kills Mufasa: RAGE MODE ACTIVATION!

Since then you sit with angry Hrist who really does not like phrase hakuna matata. She starts to hate Simba for being so thoughtless.

Screams SHUT UP every time they start singing.

When Simba lets Scar leave, Hrist in heat of the moment chokes you and loudly screams how dumb he is. You wonder if it can get worse and the answer comes very quickly - Simba fights Scar on the TV screen and you fight for every breath on a couch.

Hermes

Hermes approaches the movie from a different angle: he focuses more on a soundtrack. The movie itself is simple story with moral, standard for humans’ approval.

You both consider an improvement of some songs and probably start doing it in the middle of a movie. Sorry, Simba.

Ares

Ares doesn’t care much about Mufasa’s death - it's necessary plot twist to move on with thread… but the ending kinda touches him. It's very climatic in his opinion.

He is NOT crying, okay?

Well you are. Or you pretend very convincingly so he doesn’t have to play tough boy. He has no idea…

Hades

Because he is a gentleman, your wish would be granted.

It’s animated movie but Hades drinks wine. No cola, no popcorn or other snacks. Please, have some dignity.

Hades has weird uncomfortable feeling in his chest when Scar kills his own brother. Scene just awakes something he doesn’t like to mention: conflict between Poseidon, Adamas and Zeus. Hades never could bring himself to blame any of them for how things turned out, so now he doesn’t try to look too deep into Musafa’s murder.

Afterwards he would share his honest opinion with you, almost like professional critic.

Poseidon

No expression throughout the entire movie.

Scar is pathetic.

Mufasa is pathetic.

Simba is pathetic.

Timon and Pumba aren’t even worth mentioning.

That movie proves that humans are lower forms of life.

At least you have chance to hug Poseidon. If he spends time with you, it means he demands it.

After a movie: Y/n, such entertainment is unworthy of the gods.

Leonidas

Books are better than movies. But fine, if you insist, the King of Sparta would spare some time.

The best comforter: Why are you crying? It’s fiction! It’s not even human! By the way - that lion could kill you with a single paw swing. These mfs are huge! Better him than you, hon!

He smokes so much that you have trouble seeing the TV screen.

Stop couching, hon! I can’t hear what they’re sayin’!

The moment Pumba approach, Leonidas starts talking about his love for venison.

You need truly heroic self-denial to not kick him out. The only option to get him to shut up is to kiss him. He doesn’t get why the kiss is angry but he likes it that way.

You two probably miss the ending. Leonidas thinks Simba isn’t worthy of being king anyway.

Apollo

Ah, y/n, aren’t you adorable for loving such innocent enjoyment? Of course he agrees!

You have to feed him snacks.

He sings along with the characters and makes the movie much better. You end up watching him showing off instead of the movie. Your dirty side may bait off a bit more mature show.

He knows exactly what you're doing and doesn't mind at all.

Later you might catch him humming songs from the movie.

Hello, dear. May I be your king tonight?

Rudra

Simba’s and Nala’s childhood brings nostalgia. Rudra spent his entire youth with Shiva and they were both free spirits. Watching these lion cubs brings back many funny memories.

Rudra’s favourite moment is Simba’s reunion with Nala. He gets mad if he notices you smirking.

Parvati, Kali, Durga and Shiva

You decide it’s time for girls’ night out.

None of you is focus on the movie, it’s just an addition. You mostly talk and laugh. Very loud that it may attracts Shiva.

He just sits down between you with Whatcha doin’? then proceeds to eats all the popcorn and other snacks like vacuum cleaner.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Safe In Your Dreams

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: angst, major character death, fluff

Summary: You don't know what you have until it's not there anymore.

Square Filled: drowning in their sorrows for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“Come on, if we hurry, we might make it before the trailers are over,” you giggle.

“Are you sure we should be doing this? I have money.”

“And give it to those corporate assholes? You know barely any of the money goes to the theaters. They all go to the production company that makes the movies. I’ve done this once or twice. They don’t care if you sneak in. All they care about are their popcorn and food sales. That’s why they’re priced so high. That’s how they make their money.”

Spencer looks unsure about sneaking into a theater, and you yank open the back door with a smile.

“We’re gonna get caught.”

“Sure, with that attitude. Just tilt your chin up and pretend like you know where you’re going. Works every time.” Still, the unsure look doesn’t leave Spencer’s face. “If it really means that much to you, we can do it the normal way and go through the front.”

Spencer might be part of the FBI but who doesn't indulge in a little rebellious act every once in a while? Spencer takes your hand with a smile and steps toward you.

“Lead the way.”

“I knew you were a bit of a bad boy,” you joke and lead him inside the theater.

You lead Spencer inside the movie theater and away from anyone who might kick you out. There is a movie showing you’ve been wanting to see and happened to drag your boyfriend along with you for the ride. There is popcorn in your bag that you popped yourself so you don’t have to buy the theater’s popcorn.

You two walk into the theater you want and head to the very back so as not to bother anyone else. It’s a cheesy horror movie that has you laughing rather than screaming. Spencer isn’t a huge fan of horror but loves movies like these because it’s something you love to do.

Another thing you love to do with Spencer that he also enjoys is playing min-golf. You two clearly don’t know what you’re doing but it doesn’t matter because you’re having fun.

“Spencer, I think you’re doing it wrong,” you giggle.

He holds the golf club at an angle and hits the ball but it goes nowhere near the hole. It bounces off several walls and goes back to where he started.

“I suck at this game,” he smiles.

“Let me show you how it’s done.”

You walk to the front and set your ball down. You look at the hole on the other end of the course and bring your club back only to hit it super hard. The ball not only goes flying, it flies right into the set instead of on the grass. This course is a pirate’s theme so there are wooden pirates everywhere, and the ball nearly takes off one of their heads.

The couple behind you stares at you in judgment for acting like children. You two are giggling like school girls, but the couple doesn’t think it’s funny.

“Maybe you should play the right way,” the woman says.

“Maybe you should mind your fucking business,” you snap.

The woman is shocked you talked to her that way, and you turn to Spencer with a giggle. She storms off to presumably get security which means you and Spencer have to go before you get in trouble.

“It’s not good for an FBI agents to be caught with petty vandalism.”

“Then we better not get caught!”

Mini golf might not be the best date idea since you and Spencer can’t play for shit, but the kind of dates you love taking Spencer on are beach dates. The perfect time of day to go is when the sun is setting since the clouds are bright pink, orange, and purple, and the sun makes the water shimmer magically.

“Are you ready?” you grin at Spencer.

“As ready as you can be.”

“Don’t push me this time.”

The water crashes on the shore, and you and Spencer run from the water. You two look like little kids who don’t want to get wet but you don’t care. Once the water recedes back into the ocean, you and Spencer walk closer to water. The waves crash onto the shore again, and tyou and Spencer take off running away from it. The water splashes on the back of your ankles, and you squeal at how cold it is. The East Coast waters are a lot warmer than the West Coast, but it’s still winter.

Spencer scoops you up into his arms and walks closer to the water that has receded.

“Don’t drop me,” you giggle and hold onto him.

When the water crashes onto the shore, Spencer attempts to run from it but ends up slipping and falling. He turns so that you land on him instead of the ground, but the water washes over both of you. You scream playfully from how cold the water is and Spencer shivers from the temperature. You lean down and kiss him just as another wave washes upon you.

Though, the best date you’ve ever been on with Spencer is when he took you to a rooftop restaurant. He had to work late because of the BAU but managed to get a reservation a the restaurant since he was friends with the chef. Since it was past closing time, there was no one else on the roof but you two, and it overlooked the city which only added to how romantic it was.

“Damn, you can see everything up here,” you say. “It’s very beautiful.”

Spencer stares at you as you admire the city below. “Yeah, it is.”

Soft music is flowing through the speakers, and Spencer gets up and extends his hand to you. The chef has your orders so while you wait, Spencer wants to fill the time with dancing. You look away from the city and blush at his hand. When you grab his hand, he pulls you into him so that your head is resting on his cheat. You can hear his heartbeat underneath your ear which releases an abundance of endorphins in your head.

Your hand is so small compared to his, so he envelopes yours completely. Everything else in your life goes away because the only thing you can focus on is Spencer and this moment. You’re so in love with him that it’s overwhelming and consuming. You’ve never felt this way about another person before.

You’re not sure where you’d be without him in your life.

A few weeks after that rooftop date, you and Spencer are in the park near your shared apartment. It’s nearing midnight so there aren’t any kids playing around. It’s just you and Spencer which is all that you want. You two are swinging lightly on the swings, and you look up at the stars that twinkle for you.

“Do you still read the book I made for you?” he suddenly asks.

You look at him and slightly frown.

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too painful, I guess. It reminds me of you and I get really sad,” you sigh.

“I see,” he nods.

“I hope you’re not mad.”

“Mad at a cute little thing like you? Never.” He stops swinging and looks at you seriously. “I do have to go, though.”

“No, please stay,” you whimper.

“I can’t darling. I promise I’ll be back soon.”

He gets off the swing and approaches you from the front. He pulls you close and kisses your head. You close your eyes to savor this moment but when you open them, you’re in your bedroom. The room is dull in color and the curtains are drawn closed to prevent light from coming through.

The alarm clock reads seven AM. You should be at work. You should be with your team. Instead, you roll to the empty spot in bed and bring Spencer’s pillow closer to you. You stain the sheet with your tears as you force yourself to go to sleep.

Your dreams are the only place you get to see Spencer now.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[rootsofdread]

Thinking of Ace, Ash, Chris, Wesker and Anna with a s/o survivor with the HEAVIEST plot armor possible, as if they're from looney tunes. They are just so lucky trials get straight up comedic instead of scary — killers trip over their legs somehow, bang their heads on the trees, miss the easiest shots possible etc etc, and reader is just standing over there like "😄"

Mayhaps they could just go around helping people, since there's barely anything to do apart from that !!

🦞 eatwell

Ace Visconti:

Ace seems to love having another person around that has the same amount of dumb, “unlucky” luck that he has, too. Finally, someone who can relate to falling face-first in a patch of bushes after jumping out of a window, which really hurts, but will get the killer off of you. Though, your kind of luck usually ends with stuff like that happening to someone else instead of yourself…but he has seen you take a few tumbles down the basement stairs, and is always amazed when you’re perfectly fine afterwards. He somehow tends to be on the receiving end of your luck, he’s been tripped over and run over by the killer quite a few times while they’ve been carrying you, making them immediately drop you. But even with luck like this, he loves spending trials with you, because you make every single one fun.

Ashley J. Williams:

Honestly, Ash loves having someone like you around in the fog. Even though anyone around you tends to get hurt for your benefit, he finds it funny to watch from afar. It’s like watching a cartoon play out in real life. A safe distance, where he’s safe from being tripped over or tackled by the killer when they’re supposed to be looking for you, because he already has pretty shit luck and bringing you into the equation never makes it any better. But he is also known for poor life choices, so he does end up making the mistake of hanging a little too close to you when he probably shouldn’t. He’s been hit by missed swings that were meant for you many more times than he’d ever care to admit. But he will admit, seeing the killer run into a tree branch while chasing you down makes up for it.

Chris Redfield:

If you know Chris, you know he’s a very no-nonsense sort of guy. He doesn’t necessarily approve of the antics that seem to follow you around, but he also knows there doesn’t seem to be much that you can do about it. Most of the time, he sits back and watches you from afar to make sure you don’t get hurt or get into trouble due to…whatever it is that you seem to have. The joke is on him whenever he believes he has to jump in and save you though, because most of the time it ends with him getting tackled into the dirt by the killer when they meant to jump on you. You can probably imagine the look on his face when he gets hauled away by the killer and you’re springing away without a scratch.

Anna / The Huntress:

To put it simply, Anna gets incredibly frustrated by how well you avoid everything she throws at you. Literally. Every time she tries to throw a hatchet at you, you lean down to pick a flower and it flies off, or someone calls your name so you move and she hits a tree instead, or you just so happen to trip over a tree root at just the right time so that she hits whoever you were traveling with instead of you. She doesn’t know how you do it. How you always seem to know whenever she’s aiming to hit you. She usually resolves to just leave you alone most of the time, but she knows at some point she has to try to hit you. At least you give her good target practice…

Albert Wesker / The Mastermind:

Wesker has to admit, he’d much rather study you than try to catch you. Trying to catch you usually doesn’t end well for him or anyone in the immediate vicinity. He can’t complain when someone else falls in his path at just the right moment as you move out of the way, but you are who he’s aiming for. He decides he just needs to plan around your shenanigans, which may seem impossible to others, with how unpredictable trials can go with you thrown into the mix, but he’s a scientist. His entire life has been carved from the unpredictable, and he’ll get to the bottom of what makes you you, even if he has to endure smacking into a few trees and falling out of windows to make that happen.

[iamyoursonly]

My safe haven (25/12/2023)

merry christmas guyssss! i’m here to serve you a meal so enjoyyyy

Wearing my headphones, I sit down at a seat on the train back home. My heart and soul can’t wait till the moment of relaxation home comes. I was so excited to finally go home after a whole week of overtime. I really am tired, physically and somewhat mentally too.

The ride was a bit bumpy, about an hour long I’d say. I enjoyed the quiet time alone… Music playing in my ears as I read the book I have kept in my bag for a few months already. One page and another, I scanned through the lines of words, reading every single one of them.

Enjoyable times flies by, am I right? The train reaches its final stop — my stop — as I reluctantly get off. Holding the book in my hands, I jog out of the subway and head to the bus station.

The Christmas decorations in the subway were bright, children were carolling in the station and shops had sales for this festive holiday. I couldn’t help but stop and admire the decorations at the bakery in awe. I take out the scarf from my bag and wrap it around my neck, scared that I might get a cold from the weird weather right now.

My phone buzzed when first I stepped out of the subway, the cold wind blowing in my face. I breathed out a big breath, seeing my own breath in the air. Then I take out my phone, hands freezing.

S: Are you home yet?

You: Almost there

The time was about eleven at night when I finally reached home — my little haven of peace. I love how comforting the environment always is and how well it reflects my personality, the quietness of it and the calmness it brings me. I take off my shoes, and turn on the lights for the living room. A tall and lean figure was seen spreading all over the couch after the lights were turned on.

“Satoru? What are you doing here? On the couch really? You’re going to break your fucking back, dude.”

He stands up, looking a bit offended by my comment. “Hey! First up, I have the right to be here. You gave me the key, alright? Secondly, where if not the couch. Your bed? Lastly, I am not going to break my fucking back, dude. I’m just twenty eight.”

I mutter a little curse under my breath, “You little shit. At least take care of your mess! Do you think I won’t catch the chip crumbs on the couch?”

He quickly tried to swipe the crumbs onto the floor to ‘remove the evidence’ of his ‘crime’. It’s actually really funny I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

I noticed that Satoru let out a visible blush when I started laughing, it was adorable to be honest. But then he started laughing along with me.

“Would you like a coffee?” Satoru asks, “I want to apologise about the mess.”

I stop my laughing and hit his head lightly, “You dumbass it’s 11 right now, do you want me awake for the whole night?” I mutter.

He says sorry quickly though, and promised to get me coffee at a more appropriate time. Then he proposed to play nintendo games together. I kept losing to him but it doesn’t matter.

We have always had so much fun together, since forever ago, because the ‘home is my safe haven’ thing is a lie. The truth is, Satoru is my safe haven. He doesn’t know it though.

A few years ago, his mother met up with me personally after she heard from an ‘unknown source’ that I have a thing for his son. It’s not like I was in any position to deny this fact, ai just didn’t want to accept it yet. But I was definite that the person that told her was my ex that had always been angry at me for always hanging out with Satoru.

“Here take the money and stop everything you’re doing with Satoru.” That’s all I remember her saying but all I did was keep my stance and say no. Then I burst out of the room crying, and ended up in Satoru’s arms again. Telling him all about it.

He went to talk to his mother the next day and he was grounded for a week. That week I felt alone and empty and sad without him. And started to over think that I was the bad influence for him. So I asked my mother if I could transfer schools, at least somewhere away from Satoru. Because as long as Satoru is happy, I am.

I remember seeing a girl on Satoru’s instagram stories, apparently she was his girlfriend and it was just to ‘take his mind off all this drama’. Not that I’m blaming him though. I could only make myself believe that: I’m the coward that ran away and I don’t deserve him.

When I thought the ‘feelings’ were finally over after five years of ‘No Satoru’, I returned and took up a nine-to-five job as a secretary for the company Satoru’s family owned.

It was just to test out if I still had the butterflies in my stomach when I glance at Satoru’s pretty face. Well they’re still there, all that distance and time away didn’t really work.

“Hey! Satoru! The crumbs are on the floor now, oh my god! Why do you keep doing this to me every time you come to my house! Do you really want me to get into trouble with your mother again?”

He let out a slight chuckle, “It’s fine, because I’ll be there with you this time.”

I breathe out, “What?!”

He continued, “Have I ever told you why I came back to you after you left for so long?”

“To be honest with you, Satoru. I don’t really want or need to know, because you’re here now and that’s what it matters. But go ahead and talk.”

He smiled and nodded, “You know when you left, I was practically a living corpse. At least my mom said I was. I didn’t want to believe that you were gone. I thought that you were strong enough to trust me to handle this… But you were gone. And when I realized it was a little too late. I gaslighted myself that you were just going on a small vacation and you’ll be back soon. But the next time I saw you was at your job interview. And you were working for my top employee, you didn’t know how happy I was, I may have cried tears of joy in the bathroom.”

I hug him, “Sorry for leaving. And thank you for telling me all this”

He hugs me back, “Yeah. Can I tell you something?”

I nod, “Go ahead, Satoru.”

“I like you.”

Well that was the thing that I least expected he’d say. ‘I like you’? Really? Was I happy? Or was I not. But I just wanted to fling my arms over his shoulders and give him a big hug and an even bigger thank you.

But we’d be good at dating, since we’ve known each other for so long, we already fought and figured it out. We have known each other’s likes or dislikes, and he could take me out on dates filled with joy and fun. Maybe we could try it out, even if it ruins the friendship. It’s worth it if it’s ruined for you.

So I hug the taller male, smiling on my face and also deep down, “Thank you. Thank you for liking me.”

I didn’t know what to say, it was a bit shocking. Maybe it all just happened too fast, or was it because I couldn’t process too much and was just hallucinating. I pinched my cheek hard and I was everything BUT hallucinating.

“Is this real?” I asked Satoru.

He looked at me with a smile and smiled, “Unfortunately, yeah.”

I hit his chest because of his childishness, “I can’t with you.”

“But you like me too don’t you?” He shrug.

“What did you say??!” I start yelling at him, grabbing the TV controller that was on the couch. “Come here, boss. Let me hit some sense into you!”

He run away frantically, as a joke of course, he knew I was joking, that’s how well we know each other. Then I catch him, I grabbed ahold of his waist from behind, “Caught you.”

He hold his hands up like he had just been arrested, “Oh no! I have been caught.” He said with a tone of sarcasm. He turned around and held me up, I was shocked of course, I yelped when he first did. Then his face was close to mine, so close I could feel his breath on my face.

“I really like you, I’m not joking.”

Feeling brave, I grab his face. “Guess what, I like you too.”

Then I kiss him, and it was ethereal, as if all the butterflies in my stomach had exploded. And it was just like the world has left the two of us behind. Just him and I.

“Really?” He breathed out, “You mean it?”

I continue holding his face, looking him in the eye, “What do you think? Does it feel unreal?”

Satoru chuckled, and held my face too, “It does.” My face grows red from it, I don’t know if it was because of the cold or because of him anymore, but either ways I’m grateful enough to have him here already.

“Also, sweetie. You’ve made my year even more special,” He says, and I look at him. The clock chimes, signalling that it’s now 12am, “Now I can finally change my way of saying ‘Merry Christmas’ to you. I’m going to say ‘Merry Christmas, darling’ from now on.” I could just smile at this sweet gesture, “Then what should I say? ‘Merry Christmas, ‘toru’?”

“I’d like that.” Satoru says, then he leans down and kisses me again.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

“Merry Christmas, ‘Toru.”

This Christmas, and the next and the next next, until forever. I wish to be in his embrace, his warmth and pray that our love will be eternal.

BONUS:

“Look here, princess.” He says, making my eyes look at him on command, “Yes, dear?” I mimic his tone as I look at his gorgeous eyes. He laughed when I did.

“What??” I asked, pouting, “So it’s only funny when you do it?”

He jokingly commented, “Of course it is, no one has my sense of humor.” I playfully hit him and he dramatically pretended if I had hit him in the gut hard. “Oh my god that hurt so bad!”

He really has a nice sense of humor.

masterlist

[waterfire1848]

going to ask you about my favourite AU type, a ghost AU One of Katara/Azula either dies, or goes into a coma (maybe they wake up at the end of the fic if ur a coward)

Hello, @emluckyowl !!!

Okay!

1. In Ba Sing Se, after Aang is killed, Long Feng kills Azula (I know. Stay with me). The spirits decide Azula still had a lot to do but they can’t exactly restart her body so her soul is stuck wandering the mortal plane but the spirits decide the best solution is to attach it to someone. That person just so happens to be Katara. Katara wakes up one morning and sees Azula in her room but nothing hurts her, everything passes right through her and no one can see her but Katara. Normal ghost rules from there: she doesn’t need to eat, drink, sleep or anything like that. However, her soul is attached to Katara so she’s forced to remain close to her.

2. The first thing Azula does is try to run from Katara but she gets maybe fifteen twenty feet before she slams into an invisible wall. When Katara tries to leave, she finds that she also can’t. Katara is still pretty pissed at Azula after killing Aang so she doesn’t talk to her despite Azula doing everything in her power to annoy Katara. Finally, the two agree to a deal. Katara will help Azula figure out how to fix this (since she is the only one capable of speaking to people or picking up a book) and Azula will not annoy Katara or try anything.

3. On the ship, Katara and Azula would grow closer and closer because they’re literally forced to be together, they have to talk to pass the time. Surprisingly, for the two, they start to get along and enjoy spending time together. Katara does have to talk to Azula in private because she risks people thinking she’s insane if not. Azula also starts to admire Sokka, Toph and Hakoda’s skills as well. When Aang wakes up and they agree to go to the Fire Nation, Azula doesn’t put up a fight to going.

4. While in the Fire Nation, Azula trips on her shoes and falls on Momo. This is also when Azula realizes she has the power to possess people. As Momo, she flies over to Katara who doesn’t understand that she’s Azula until Azula writes it in the dirt. Azula takes over the body of a nearby person and she and Katara use the opportunity to finally show the Gaang that Azula is a ghost and traveling with them. (Azula: And now that I have a body- Katara: You can’t keep someone’s body! Azula: Not keep. I’m just…borrowing for an extended period of time. Katara: No! Azula: You’re no fun). Overall, Azula possess Sokka twice, Aang twice, Toph once, Katara once, Momo twice, Appa once (she had to), Suki once (Suki was the only one who literally threw Azula out of her body), Zuko once (mostly just to show him that she was a ghost but also to make him say some funny stuff) and multiple guards.

5. Azula doesn’t regain her original body (because it’s dead) but the spirits + the mother of faces agree to give her a new body and face if she wants or she can let her soul leave the mortal plane. Katara hugs Azula as best she can and tells her to make whatever choice she wants. Azula decides to take her new body and she and Katara officially start dating as two alive people.

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 7 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Enjoy the fluff <3

Warnings: Smut, fluff, and a slight bit of angst. Steddie dynamic and all that that implies (I regret nothing!), Mentions of Steve and reader having trouble with their parents. More than anything just Steddie being cute dads <3.

Word Count: 3758

Wayne grins as he as holds Aurora under her arms up to his face and makes funny sounds with his mouth as she giggles. You smile as you watch them from your place at the sink, scrubbing away at the never-ending supply of baby bottles. 

It had been 6 months since she was born and thankfully your maternity leave flowed into summer vacation for the school so you were able to be home with her. Once summer started Dylan wanted to help out more offering to keep her entertained while you did things around the house. He really was the best big brother when it came to her. 

He would talk to her 24/7 about books and video games especially when he was playing one. Any wisdom Eddie and Steve had given him, he told her as if he had come up with the information all by himself. 

The guys, of course, were a big help as well when it came to Aurora even going overboard at times. Since you spent all day with her and Dylan, they insisted on getting up with her in the middle of the night when she cried. After the kids were in bed, they made sure you were taken care of whether it be making or bringing home dinner, cleaning the house, or even something as small as rubbing your back. 

Watching them with the baby was always a unique experience. Eddie and Steve were adorable dads and to anyone on the outside looking in, there would be no doubt that they loved her with all their heart. What was fun for you was seeing their different personalities leak through. 

For example, one night Steve woke up to comfort Aurora and after sneaking down the hall to check on them, you found him feeding her a bottle while swaying his body as sang the song from Sleeping Beauty. That morning after Steve had left for work, you came downstairs to see Eddie holding her against his shoulder, patting her back while singing “Photograph” by Def Leppard.  

“You look exactly like your dad when he was a baby.”, Wayne smiled as he brought Aurora down to his side. “I’ll have to bring some of his baby pictures, Y/N. I swear, she could be his clone.”

“She definitely has Eddie’s energy.” You reach out to poke her nose and she giggles, kicking her feet.

“How have you been?”

“Oof. I’ve been alright. I don’t know what I would do without the guys. I forgot what it was like having a baby in the house.” Wayne nods to himself as you sigh. “That’s not what you meant, is it?”

“No, sweetheart. It’s not.”

After drying your hands, you come around to his side of the counter and take a seat at one of the stools. 

“Kierra told my mom I had the baby and…my mother hung up on her. I haven’t seen her since she came by to yell at us. Steve’s parents haven’t been by either and… his dad finally followed through with cutting him off.” You laugh as a tear escapes down your cheek. “Couldn’t even face him, choosing to mail him the information. Yeah… so congratulations! You’re Aurora’s only grandparent.”

Wayne leans forward, wrapping his arm around you and kissing the top of your head. The alarm beeps as the front door opens and you quickly pull back to dry your eyes. Just from the smell alone, you already know who it is before he becomes visible. 

“Hey Eddie!”

“Jesus, woman. Are you psychic? Hey, baby.” Eddie gives you a quick peck, hesitating as he pulls away when he looks into your eyes. “Are you okay?”

Aurora saves you from having to answer as she babbles baby talk in his direction. “Oh, really? Well, I don’t know if you want me to hold you yet. I smell like a car engine.”

He chuckles as she leans towards him and he takes her from his uncle. “Alright, yall. I’m going to head home. Bye, Ro.” Wayne tickles her neck and she keens into her father’s shoulder as she giggles. 

As soon as he leaves, the door flies open again as your son runs through it holding grocery bags in his hands; Steve following a few moments after. 

“Why does it smell like a gas station?”

“Okay, Okay. I get it.” Eddie passes you Aurora before heading up the stairs to take a shower. 

“Hey, babe.” Steve kiss your forehead before tickling the baby’s side. “And baby. Did you have fun with grandpa today?” She smiles at him and tiny arms wrap around his neck. “I got some of those baby snacks you mentioned since we’re supposed to be trying solid food. I also got…” His eyes scanned the kitchen before Dylan beamed up at you, handing you’re a small bouquet of roses. 

“Aw, you guys didn’t have to do that.” 

“I know we didn’t have to. We wanted to.”

###############

After dinner that night, Eddie sat on the floor with Aurora playing his guitar while Steve laid beside her. Dylan sat on the couch with you watching TV while you went through the mail. 

“Steve…” He answered you with a light hm. “This is addressed from Hawkins Community College.” All heads in the room turned towards you as you dropped to the floor and handed it to him. 

He sat up and rapidly tore open the envelope as his eyes scanned the paper. 

“Well? Don’t leave us in suspense, Harrington.”

“Little man, come here and help me read this.” He handed the note to Dylan who promptly began reciting the letter. 

“Dear Steven Harrington. We are so excited that you have chosen to apply at our school and are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the teaching program…”

You squealed with delight as you wrapped your arms around his neck and you both fell flat on the floor. Eddie cheered as he clapped his hands, Aurora watching him with wide eyes as she kicked her feet. 

“I’m so happy for you! This is fantastic.” 

“When do you start?”, the metalhead asked.

“In September. I have to make a payment first though.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that right now. This is a good thing. Let’s be excited.” You lean down to kiss the baby’s cheek. “Did you hear that? Daddy’s going to school.”

###########

“Hey, Mrs. Harrington.” Steve’s mom gave you a once over with her eyes, completely taken back by your sudden arrival at her house. “May I come in?”

She nods and you step inside as she opens the door wider.

“Is my son with you?”

“No, ma’am. He actually doesn’t know I’m here. I wanted to talk to you. One of you… I did try and call Mr. Harrington’s phone but he never answers.”

You take a seat on her couch as you fidget with your hands, waiting for her to sit as well so you can begin. 

“I know what you’re thinking and I swear I’m not here for me. I meant what I said when I told your husband that I love Steve with or without his money. He’s always been good to me and my son. He’s also an amazing dad with Aurora, our daughter.” Pulling out your phone, you show her a picture of Steve fast asleep with the baby on his chest. A small smile flickers across her lips at the image.

“The reason I’m here is…he got accepted into college and will be in the teaching program. We’re so proud of him. Steve starts this fall but only if…he can make the payment. He has put a lot of money aside; we all have for him but…he’s a few hundred short.” 

Your eyes meet hers. “Please. He’s worked so hard for this and deserves it. I can pay you back as soon as I can or do whatever you want me to.”

Mrs. Harrington softly smiles as she rises from the couch to find her purse.

“Tell my son…that I’m so proud of him and I love him.”

###########

“Y/N!”

You cringe as Steve shouts your name as soon as he enters the front door. 

“Hey, whoa. Calm down, Harrington. Aurora’s asleep. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know, Eddie. That’s what I’m trying to find out!”

“Baby, can you keep an eye on Ro for me?”, you ask. As soon as Dylan gives you the okay, you leave your bedroom and head down the stairs. 

“What did you do?!”, Steve snaps. “My dad texts me while I’m at fucking work commanding you stop calling him and then, suddenly, I have 20 grand in my bank account.”

“I didn’t ask for that much. Your mom insisted after I told her you got into school.”

“You did what?”, Eddie asks now seemingly just as confused.

“We…we didn’t save enough for you to make that first tuition payment.”, you shrugged. “Steve, you deserve this. I swear I only asked her for the small amount you needed. She did the rest saying she was proud of you and that she loved you.”

“Y/N, do you understand how much farther we can get with this money when it comes to our family?! I’d rather use this money for Aurora and Dylan than me.”

“So you can continue making pennies at a job you’re not happy at?! Steve, in the long run you going to school and getting your degree benefits everyone especially our family.”

He takes a step closer to you, pointing his finger in your face. “You had no right to do this with talking to me first.”

“I knew you would say no.”

“You’re fucking right I would have! I can handle this situation without their help, Y/N and the fact that you think I can’t is extremely belittling.”

“That’s not what I’m saying! Don’t put words in my mouth!”

“Okay! Okay.” Eddie steps between you two, holding up his palms. “Stop yelling because, again, our daughter is taking a nap. Now, Y/N, he’s right. You should have talked to him about this first before you did anything. Steve, we know her. She did this with good intentions. Y/N was just trying to help.”

The baby monitor cuts through the tension as Aurora begins to cry. 

“Mom?!”

“Yeah! I hear her!”

Steve pushes past you both and huffs as he stomps up the stairs. 

#############

“Steve? Can I sit with you?”, Dylan asks as he pokes his head into the baby’s room. As soon as the man nods, your son comes in and lays on the floor beside him and Aurora who was now happily reaching at the hanging toys dangling above her head. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, dude. I’m just…thinking.”

“About my mom?”

“No…mine.”, Steve sighs. “She, uh, just gave me a lot of money so I can go to school.”

“That’s cool! My mom told me once she had money set up for me for when I go. Did yours do the same thing?”

“Not exactly, little man.”, he chuckled. “My dad always wanted me to be a businessman like him. Wear a suit and all that.” Steve mimes tightening a tie that makes Dylan laugh. “When I couldn’t get into college after high school…he took all that money and, um, invested it in other places.”

“Invested?”

“He…put the money towards other things that would benefit him.”

“Huh. That sounds selfish.” The man meets your son’s eyes as he continues. “Well, I’m proud of you, Steve! I’m invested in you.”

Steve smiles as Aurora coos as if to agree with her brother. “Can I ask you something, kid? That money my mom gave me…could really help you and your sister. I can set it aside for you two to go to school or we can use it for things like clothes or toys…”

“Do we have trouble getting that stuff now?”

“No.”

“So…you would be investing it in something that might happen instead of something that you know is happening…like you becoming a teacher.”

Steve laughed as he reached out to lightly push the boy’s shoulder. “When did you get so smart?”

##############

“Sweetheart, what are you doing? I can stay up with her.”, Eddie chided when he found you on the couch with Aurora at 3 am. You grinned at his sleepy frame as he came to sit beside you, yawning as he rubbed his hand over his bare tummy. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” You scooted closer to him as he lifted his arm to wrap around your shoulder before running his hand comfortingly over the baby’s head. 

“My girls can’t sleep? Oh no.”, he whispers in soft voice that makes her smile as her little eye lids start to droop. 

“Eddie, I didn’t know what else to do. Steve deserves this. He’s done so much and worked so hard…it infuriates me that his father doesn’t recognize that.”

“I know, baby. Your heart was in the right place but when it comes to things like this…that’s between him and them.”

“Why are you people awake?”, Steve sighs sleepily as he comes into the living room. 

“Princess woke up and since mommy couldn’t sleep, she’s been keeping her company.”

“Well, she seems to be asleep now. I can take her—”

“Naw, man. I got her. You two need to talk anyway.” Eddie carefully slides Aurora out of your grasp and heads up the stairs to put her back in her crib. 

Steve promptly takes over his place, putting his arm around you as well.

“I’m sorry. I really was just trying to help.”

A heavy sigh leaves his chest before he abruptly grips your waist and puts you on his lap facing him. 

“I know, honey. I wish you would have talked to me first and we could have come up with a game plan or something.”

“Are you going to send it back to her? I swear I only asked her for the small amount that we couldn’t come up with and even offered to pay her back.”

“Hm. I spoke with your son today. He seems to agree with you, that in the long run me finishing school will help us all. He’s a smart kid, ya know?”

“Yeah. Where did the time go? 8 years ago, he was a baby like Ro and now…”

Steve nodded as he cupped your face in his palms and brought your lips to his. 

“Oh, good. We’re all happy again.” Eddie bounces down the stairs with a smile. 

“Hey, baby. Can you hand me that light blue envelope on the counter?” He does as you ask before plopping his body down next you both. “I got this today but with everything going on I thought I should wait to show you guys. Read it, Ed.”

The metalhead carefully pulls the papers out of their confinement and silently reads the contents to himself. 

“What is it, Munson?”

“Um…fucking hell…just seeing it in print…like this…”, his voice cracks as he tries to continue. “Sorry. It says that the process of Y/N changing her last name is complete. She… she’s officially Y/N Munson-Harrington.”

Steve wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly to his chest. You smiled into the kiss he planted on your lips, reaching for Eddie so he could do the same. 

“I just have to update my license and stuff but I can start officially using it now.”

“Y/N Munson-Harrington. You were right, Eddie. It does flow better.” The man grins as he brings your lips down to his again. As your tongue caresses his, your hips start to grind against the gradually growing bulge in his shorts. “Wait, wait, wait, baby. Fuck. What if…Dylan hears us.”

“We’ll have to be quiet then.”, you smirk down at him as his fingers dig into your waist.

“Let’s…let’s go upstairs.”

“Steve, please. It’s been so long.” You reach for his hand and slide it between your legs under your own shorts making his breathing catch in his throat when he feels how wet you are. “I need you both now. Please.” 

His eyes flutter closed as his mouth attaches to your neck while you turn to find Eddie who was palming his own bulge through his boxers as he watched you both. Without moving your arms from his shoulders, you adjust your legs so Steve can slide down your shorts and toss them to the side. You hold the cotton blocking your sex to the side as you watch him guide his cock into your entrance. 

“God, yes, Steve.” You moan as you continue to grind your hips. 

He gently smiles as he licks his lips, hugging your body to his chest as he slides towards the edge of the couch. “So beautiful, honey. Mmm… Mrs. Munson-Harrington.” Steve’s hips thrust up to meet yours and you keen into his neck to cover the moan that wants to escape. 

It had been a while since the three of you were sexually intimate and feeling him inside you again felt like brand new euphoric experience. Not just because of the way he felt physically but because after your daughter was born you saw this new side to him; to both of them. 

They had always been good fathers to Dylan but to see the way they were with Aurora and you during your pregnancy till now… you would never be able to properly express how much the love you had for them was. 

Your fingers tangled in his hair as you came. Steve guided your hips with his hands, pumping into you till he grunted into your neck and released his seed inside of you. 

When you were finally able to open your eyes, you were met with Eddie’s beautiful brown ones as he looked over your sweaty face before reaching with his hand to wipe your forehead. 

You can’t help but giggle. “I told you it was a parent thing…being a human napkin.”

He grinned as he reached for you and climbed off of Steve to sit on the other man’s lap, your back to his chest. His lips tenderly traced your shoulder up to your cheek, meeting your lips as his hand floated down to grip his length and run the tip through your soaking folds.

“Are you ready for me, sweetheart?”, he whispers. 

You nod, pressing your nose to the side of his face as he maneuvers his cock into your core. His arms wrap around your stomach and you place your own over his as you hold his hand, panting against his cheek as delivers slow but firm thrusts. 

“That feels so good, Eddie.”, you whimper and he moans in response. “Make—mmm—make me cum again, baby. Please.”

“You, f-fuck, you keep talking to me like that and…I won’t last. I could…barely hold myself together—mmm—watching you two.”

You delicately trail tiny kisses along his jaw line, tilting your head so your lips can hover over his ear. “Make me cum, Eddie. Please. Please. It felt so good when my pussy clung to Steve. I want to feel it gripping you as you fill me up.”

“Jesus Christ… Steve…can you…?”

Eddie pumps into you harder as you roll your hips, biting down on your lip when you feel Steve’s fingers press fast circles into your clit. 

You stumble over the edge, moaning his name into his neck as you cum. With a few more sloppy thrusts, Eddie’s arms squeeze you tighter to him as he warms your insides with his release. 

You groan as he pulls out, lifting slightly to tuck himself back into his boxers before adjusting you in his arms and rising to his feet. He and Steve exchange a few words you barely hear as your heavy eye lids start to fall. 

A pleasant sigh leaves your lips when you feel your body being placed on the soft mattress before the room darkens further and you are suddenly incased in warmth. Steve’s arm wraps around your waist, taking your hand in his as he pulls you closer. Eddie reaches for your other palm, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as you nuzzle your face into his chest.

##############

“Hey, mom.”, Steve greets her with a startled tone as he opens his front door. “What, uh, what are you doing here?”

“I just…thought I’d come by…check in.”

Aurora starts to cry from the living room as if sensing her dad is no longer there. “Yeah, um, come in. Come in. Give me one second.” He continues talking to her as he hurries towards his daughter. “Y/N is having lunch with her sister and Eddie is at work so I have the kiddos.”

Dylan smiles politely at her as he glances at Steve who flashes him a reassuring smile of his own. “This little one has been having a rough morning.” He bounces the baby in his arms as he smooths down her hair.

Mrs. Harrington gradually makes her way over to him, reaching out to tickle her side. Aurora sighs as she crashes her body into the woman, wrapping her arms around her neck. 

“Whoa!”

“It’s okay, Steve.”, she grins as she pats Ro’s back. “You did the same thing. Every time a new face entered the house, you would practically headbutt them as if that was your way of saying hello.”

Steve’s eyes follow her as she takes a seat beside Dylan who turns his body to face her. “She likes to kick a lot to especially to Eddie’s music!”

Mrs. Harrington laughs making her son smile. “Has she started rolling over yet?”

“Kind of. She tries but then falls back on her butt.”

“Oh! That’s ok. Once she figures it out, crawling will be next and you’ll be running all over this house trying to catch her!” Dylan giggles as she leans closer to him. “Steve used to crawl into his father’s office and drool over everything.”

Your son makes a disgusted face as Steve sticks out his tongue. After taking a seat beside her, Aurora coos as she reaches her hand out to touch the woman’s cheeks. 

“She’s been doing that a lot to, pretty much since she was born. She loves pulling on Eddie’s hair.”

“Probably trying to get a feel of what her hair will be like.” Her eyes meet his as she softly smiles knowingly. “Those grabby hands are going to get worse so you may want to tell him to keep his hair up.”

Steve extends his arm around his mother’s shoulder, pulling her to his chest as he hugs her. 

###############

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