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lavenderspence · 2 days

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To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fam!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other.

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started.

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds.

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost.

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain.

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go.

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair.

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true.

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list.

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone.

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment.

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?”

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him.

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest.

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home.

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico.

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to.

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other.

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped.

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking.

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes.

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been.

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside.

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore.

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud.

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did.

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you.

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him.

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her.

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough.

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier.

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking.

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt.

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.”

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more.

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again.

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say.

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight.

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight.

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him.

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive.

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends.

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in.

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take?

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared.

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you.

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote.

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num.

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same.

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card.

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again.

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused.

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different.

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit.

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy.

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years.

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt.

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown.

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place.

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly.

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one.

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth.

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness.

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine.

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both.

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature.

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt.

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled.

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him.

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed.

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that.

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time.

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out.

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure.

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn.

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly.

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over.

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did.

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see.

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over.

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out.

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them.

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms.

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation.

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now.

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned.

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth.

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet.

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face.

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry.

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined.

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to.

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him.

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment.

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of.

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes.

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own.

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much.

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline.

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head.

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him.

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you.

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other.

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand.

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent.

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in.

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again.

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice.

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it.

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto.

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head.

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering.

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to.

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became.

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace.

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it.

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real.

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple.

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?”

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you.

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss.

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time.

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy.

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process.

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices.

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived.

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours.

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go.

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching.

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together.

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered.

“I love you.”

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x0xomady · 1 day

Note

Could you write something about Harry helping y/n through serious pain? Like labor or a chronic illness?

Little Love

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summary: just a lil blurb! the time has come for harry to become a dad and you’re not sure you’re ready (harry styles x female reader)

(i don’t know much about birth or labor, i’m a 20 year old with no kids. so don’t judge me if something is wrong lmao)

warnings: pain, pregnancy, labor, nothing too bad!

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being pregnant is one of the scariest and most beautiful things.

as i lay there in bed beside harry, i couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anxiety swirling inside of me. it was amazing to think about the life growing inside of me, but at the same time, the thought of giving birth was absolutely terrifying. i worried about the pain, the uncertainties, and the physical toll it would take on my body. it was like i was preparing for a marathon that i'm not quite sure i’m was ready for.

as my hormones surged and my emotions became more intense, i often found myself overwhelmed by the enormity of the changes taking place within me. it was like a roller-coaster of sensations and emotions, and it was sometimes hard to find my footing amidst it all.

and yet, despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over me, there was also a well of hope and joy deep within my heart. every time i felt the baby kick or heard its heartbeat, i knew there was something magical happening inside of me too.

i lay there, lost in thought, my eyes drifted over to harry. he was fast asleep beside me, his body sprawled out underneath the covers with one hand securely draped around my waist. his face was peaceful, and his chest rose and fell steadily with each breath he took.

i couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, feeling a surge of love and appreciation for the man who was soon to be the father of my child.

my hand reaches over and gently touches his cheek, marveling at how he could sleep so soundly amidst the whirlwind of emotions that were swirling around inside of me. i knew that he was excited about becoming a dad, but i also knew that he was probably feeling just as nervous as i was.

still, there was something reassuring about having him beside me, anchoring me to this moment despite the unknowns that lay ahead.

as i ran my fingers through his soft curls, his eyes slowly fluttered open, and he looked at me, his green eyes filled with a mixture of grogginess and concern. "hey," he said, his voice gravelly with sleep. "is everything okay?"

"actually… i think the contractions might be starting," i finally admitted, a small tinge of fear creeping into my voice. i took a deep breath, trying to stay calm even as a wave of anxiety washed over me.

harry's eyebrows furrowed with concern as he sat up a bit, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "wait, what? contractions? are you sure?" his voice was tinged with disbelief, but there was also a hint of nerves. he leaned closer to me, his hand reaching out to gently touch my stomach. "how long has this been going on?"

"oh god, i don't know. maybe an hour or so," i replied, wincing as a particularly strong contraction came on. i grasped his hand tightly, my grip involuntarily squeezing his fingers.

harry's eyes widened with a mixture of shock and concern. "okay, okay. don't panic." his voice was steadier now, although i could still hear the subtle tremble of nerves. he gently took my face in his hands, looking into my eyes. "we need to time these contractions, okay? see if they're far apart or getting closer together."

i couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me when i saw harry’s reaction. i don’t know who’s more worried, the person about to go through labor or the panicked british guy.

harry raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "what? what are you laughing at, pretty girl?" he asked, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and puzzlement. the fear that had momentarily gripped him seemed to leave slightly, replaced instead with a tender warmth in his eyes.

"oh, nothing," i replied, shaking my head slightly as i winced again at another spasm of pain. "it's just funny, you know? here i am going through the beginnings of labor, and you're the one freaking out."

harry chuckled lightly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "well, can you blame me? this is some pretty scary stuff," he admitted, his thumb gently stroking my cheek.

i nodded silently, feeling a sense of comfort in his words. i knew it wouldn’t be easy, but having him beside me made me feel like i could face anything. i snuggled closer to him, burying my face in his chest as another contraction gripped me.

"breathe," harry murmured, his hand gently rubbing my back. "just focus on your breathing. in and out, slow and steady. you got this, sweet girl."

i nodded, taking a shaky breath as another contraction hit me. i focused on the feeling of harry's hand on my back, letting it ground me and keep me from succumbing to the pain and fear that threatened to consume me. slowly, the contraction passed, leaving me feeling drained and exhausted, but reassured that i wasn't alone in this.

"how far apart are they now?" i asked, my voice hoarse with strain. my hands gripping harry’s larger ones tightly.

harry glanced at the clock on his phone, his eyes narrowing as he calculated the time. "about five minutes," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of concern. "they're getting closer together. we should probably start thinking about heading to the hospital soon."

my heart leapt into my throat as harry gave me the news. five minutes apart already? fuck, this was happening a lot faster than i had thought it would.

"okay," i took a deep breath, trying to steady the panicked feeling that was welling up inside me. "okay, let's do this. help me get up, and let's pack the bags. we need to get to the hospital."

harry nodded silently, his expression serious as he quickly kicked off the blankets and got out of bed. he grabbed my hand and helped me to my feet, keeping a supportive arm around my waist as we made our way to the closet to grab our bags.

we moved quickly and efficiently, our nerves and excitement fueling us as we rushed around the house, gathering anything we thought we might need for the hospital.

finally, with our bags packed and essentials in hand, we headed to the car. harry helped me into the passenger seat, quickly tossing our bags into the trunk and then getting into the driver's seat. as he turned on the car and pulled out of the driveway, i could see the anxious tension in his eyes.

the drive to the hospital was a blur of nerves and discomfort. harry's knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly, and i could see his jaw clenching and unclenching as he willed himself to stay calm.

the contractions continued to come at regular intervals, each one making me gasp and clutch at whatever surface was nearest.

“fuck- harry” i groan out in pain.

harry glanced quickly over at me, his face immediately creased with concern. "what? what is it? are you okay?" he reached over and grabbed my hand, his grip tight and desperate.

"no- i’m not alright. the contractions are getting stronger," i whimpered, my breath hissing between clenched teeth. "can we get there any faster? please?"

harry let out a low curse under his breath, his eyes focused on the road ahead. "i'm going as fast as i can, okay? just try to breathe, sweetheart. we're almost there."

i nodded weakly, my chest heaving with each breath as i fought against the pain. i clung to harry's hand, finding some small measure of comfort in his presence. with each contraction, the fear and anxiety seemed to build, mingling with the intense pain and leaving me feeling overwhelmed.

"just think," harry said, his voice suddenly quiet. "when we get there, we're going to see our baby. our son or daughter. that's worth it, right?" a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and i couldn't help but cling to the hope in his words.

i nodded again, closing my eyes and trying to picture it. i could almost see the tiny, wriggling bundle in my arms, hear the soft, sweet sound of its cry. somehow, just imagining it made the pain a little easier to bear.

before i knew it, we were pulling into the hospital parking lot. harry helped me out of the car, his arm wrapped securely around me as we limped towards the entrance. we were greeted by a group of nurses who ushered us inside, quickly guiding us towards the maternity ward.

as we entered the hospital, the nurses couldn't help but steal glances at harry, their eyes widening slightly in recognition. a few of them even whispered to each other, their voices tinged with excitement as they recognized the famous singer.

it was strange to see the star-struck reactions of the nurses, but i couldn't blame them. harry was a celebrity, after all. one nurse even gasped quietly under her breath, "is that…?"

but despite the subtle buzz of excitement around us, harry's focus never wavered from me. he held me close, his gaze fixed on me as we continued making our way to the maternity ward.

to be honest, it was a little irritating to have so many eyes on us as we navigated our way through the maternity ward. i was in pain, and the last thing i wanted was to be the center of attention. but i could feel the gazes of the nurses following us, their whispers echoing in my ears. it made me feel like a zoo exhibit, on display for everyone to gawk at.

harry, though, seemed to take it all in stride. he kept his arm tightly around me, his focus entirely on me and getting me settled in.

i could tell that he was a bit uncomfortable with the attention, but he never once let it show. instead, he simply gave the nurses a small smile remaining his normal charming self and guiding me toward the room.

once we were alone in the room, the door closing behind us, i finally let out a long sigh of relief. the bright lights and antiseptic smell of the hospital environment was a far cry from our cozy bed at home, but at least here i would have the care and support of the medical staff. and, of course, the unwavering presence of harry by my side.

harry helped me onto the hospital bed, the crisp white sheets cool beneath my skin. he sat down beside me, taking my hand in his own and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"how are you feeling, love?" he asked softly, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of my hand.

“like absolute shit…” i mumble, managing a tiny smile at the thought of our baby.

harry chuckled softly, his thumb still tracing circles on my hand. "yeah, i can only imagine. but hey, think about it. we're about to see our baby, y'know? that should make it all worth it," he grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

i smile weakly at that, nodding in agreement. the thought of holding our baby in my arms for the first time was enough to make me forget about the pain, at least for a moment. "yeah, that's true. i can't wait to meet them," i said, feeling a surge of excitement mixed with the exhaustion and pain.

harry leaned closer, his breath warm on my cheek as he reached out to cup my face. "i love you," he said softly, his voice full of emotion. "and i'm so proud of you for being so strong through all of this."

i felt a wave of warmth spread through me at his words, banishing the earlier irritation at the nurses' stares. "i love you too," i whispered, feeling a fresh wave of determination wash over me.

we sat together in silence for a while, the ticking of the clock on the wall the only sound aside from our gentle breathing. the contractions continued to come and go, each one growing more intense than the last, but i found comfort in harry's presence, in his unwavering support and love.

after a few moments, there was a gentle knock at the door, and a nurse poked her head inside. "how are you doing, mrs. styles?" she asked, her eyes filled with concern for me. "are you ready to have us take a look and see how far along you are?"

i nodded, feeling a surge of nervousness mixed with excitement. "yeah, i think i'm ready," i said, my voice a little shaky. harry squeezed my hand again, silently reassuring me that everything would be okay.

the nurse nodded and left the room, returning a few moments later with a few other medical staff. they quickly got to work, hooking me up to monitors and checking my vital signs. the room was suddenly buzzing with activity as they prepared for the upcoming delivery.

despite the commotion, i felt strangely calm, my focus entirely on harry's reassuring presence beside me. as the nurses bustled around us, checking my dilation and positioning, i held onto his hand, finding strength in his touch.

harry saw my worry and smiled a little bit. “ya know… i already have my first dad joke lined up.”

i roll my eyes and sigh already knowing where this was going.

harry grinned mischievously, clearly pleased at my reaction. "yep. i've been practicing for months now. want to hear it?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

i couldn't help the eye roll that passed over my face, but deep down, i was secretly looking forward to hearing his terrible joke. "okay, fine. hit me with it," i replied, unable to hide my amusement.

harry cleared his throat, his demeanor changing into a mock serious expression as he delivered the punchline. "why is it impossible to find true love with a mermaid?" he asked, pausing dramatically.

despite my amusement, i couldn't help but play along. "i don't know, harry. why is it impossible to find true love with a mermaid?" i repeated, struggling to keep the smile off my face.

harry's grin widened, and he leaned in close, an exaggerated whisper escaping his lips as he delivered the punchline. "because they're all too shallow!" he said, his green eyes bright with a mix of humor and anticipation.

i groaned inwardly, but at the same time, i couldn't help but laugh. it was so silly, so predictable, and yet, there was something endearing about the fact that he had been practicing this joke for months. "oh my god, harry. that was terrible," i said, shaking my head with fond exasperation.

harry chuckled, clearly pleased with my reaction. "oh come on, you know you loved it. admit it." he teased, giving my hand a light squeeze.

“i love you but i hate your shitty jokes” i grin and roll my eyes at harry’s big dumb smile.

harry chuckled again, his smile growing wider. "yeah, yeah. i know. but you still laughed, so who's the real winner here?" he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. despite the corny dad joke, i couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a surge of affection for the goofy, lovable man beside me.

“yeah, yeah save it for the baby.” i giggle and shake my head. despite the pain and worry i had, harry made me feel truly happy.

harry grinned once more, clearly enjoying the banter. "hey, our baby is going to need some entertainment too. might as well start practicing now."

i shook my head, but inside i felt a warmth spread through me at his words. here we were, about to bring a new life into the world, and he was still making me laugh with his silly jokes.

just then, the nurse re-entered the room, a gentle smile on her face. "mrs. styles, i think you're ready to start pushing now." she said softly, her eyes filled with encouragement.

my heart leapt into my throat at her words, the reality of the situation fully hitting me. i took a deep breath, looking over at harry and seeing the mixture of excitement and anxiety in his eyes.

"okay. i'm ready," i said, my voice tinged with determination. harry smiles and gives me an encouraging kiss on the cheek.

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for the next few hours, time seemed to blur into a haze of pain, exhaustion, and sheer willpower. with harry's hand tightly grasping mine and the steady encouragement of the medical staff, i pushed as hard as i could, each contraction bringing us closer to meeting our baby.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the room was filled with the sound of a baby's cry, the sweet and unmistakable sound of new life. the nurse placed our bundle of joy gently on my chest, and tears filled my eyes as i looked down at our child for the first time.

harry's eyes lit up as he gazed down at the tiny, wriggling baby in my arms, his expression filled with awe and sheer adoration. "it's a girl," he breathed, his voice choked with emotion.

"we have a daughter." he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of our baby's head, his love and joy palpable in the air.

i felt a rush of emotions as i cradled our daughter in my arms, the pain and exhaustion of labor fading into the background. in that moment, nothing else mattered but the overwhelming love i felt for our child and the man beside me.

harry reached out, gently stroking our daughter's soft cheek. "she's perfect," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "absolutely perfect." i leaned my head back against the pillows, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over me.

the room was filled with a gentle quiet, broken only by the soft sound of our daughter's shallow breathing and the occasional whisper from the medical staff taking care of us. i felt a sense of awe and disbelief, finally understanding the true miracle of life and the immense love that comes with it.

“so which name are we going to pick?” i ask looking up from her little pink face to see harry looking at her with wide eyes.

i look down at our daughter, her little face scrunched up in a frown as she slept peacefully in my arms. "what do you think, love?" harry asked softly, wrapping an arm around me and gently brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face.

“how about… lilah?”

"lilah," i repeated, trying out the name on my tongue. i liked the way it sounded, how it rolled off my tongue. "it's pretty. i like it." i looked up at harry, seeking his approval.

he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "yeah, i like it too. lilah. it's perfect." he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, his hand coming to rest on the bundle in my arms. he leans down and whispers softly to our daughter. "lilah styles… welcome to the world little love.”

⋆⭒˚｡⋆₊ ⊹

just a sweet little blurb nothing too fancy! hope you love it ! <3

-xoxo⋆₊ ⊹

#harry styles #x0xomady #harry edward styles #one direction #harry styles fluff #fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #dom harry styles #smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #dadrry

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invisiblestringmm · 12 hours

Text

chapter six

and if you ask me to, daddy’s gonna buy you a mockingbird, i’ma give you the world

author: writing this had me sobbing a few times and i truly hope you'll love it as much as i do. let's keep in mind that this is a work of fiction, and that i do not know nor am associated (unfortunately) to any of the real people mentioned here. tw: massive fluff, description of anxiety, angst

word count: 7.758k words

It wasn’t a long drive to the estate, but the portion of time you spent in your car parked out front was longer than what you had planned - lost in your thoughts, you made an effort to gather a bit more of the courage you knew you still had in your core to now face the most significant person in this whole chaos: your daughter, the love of your life. You knew Lily would eventually bring up so many questions that your only hope was that she’d wait for Mason to be around, but knowing her all too well, her focus would be entirely on meeting her dad; you could already see the twinkle in her eyes, the impatience hovering over her making that little human pace relentlessly whenever she had to wait for things to happen when they should and not on her time - which was nothing like you, because you considered yourself fairly patient. So that was another thing she probably got from Mason.

With another sigh parting your lips, you eventually made your way to the big house - only to be welcomed by your mum’s frantic screams that Christmas was ruined, by your dad’s hopeless and anguished glance, and a pair of tiny arms that made your entire world stop because nothing else mattered. Lily held you tight like you’d been away for years and not for just a few hours. “I missed you, mummy. Abuelita is angry,” she pouted, her big hazel eyes gleaming with tears she seemed to be containing for a while now.

“Oh baby,” you cooed. “What happened?”

Lily carefully explained the same way she heard: there was a big snowstorm and pretty much every family member that was expected to join them for Christmas wouldn’t be able to make it. So far, it was just the four of you, Emma (your cousin, daughter of your father’s brother), and her two children, Louis and Oscar, the 8-year-old twins. Inevitably, your thoughts went straight to Mason and how having him there would be perfect. Not the way your mum truly wanted, but it’d make Lily happy and whatever made your daughter happy, also made your parents happy.

Back in Surrey, Mason quickly typed you a message after declining two of your calls.

Watching half of his family still in shock with the news he just dropped could be amusing if it wasn’t something so serious - although Mason was sure that, at some point in life, they’d all have a good laugh about it. His sister’s soft hand squeezing his shoulder felt reassuring, but Mason could still feel his heart pounding against his chest and the silence filling his large living room was the scariest sound he had ever heard. Lewis was the first one to break it with a sigh, and Mason could only hope he’d say something funny to break the tension, but it didn’t happen - at least not yet.

“Are you sure she’s yours?” Lewis questioned and Mason scanned his dad’s face starting to turn red, the veins in his forehead throbbing under Lew’s question.

Before Mason could answer, Jaz took a step forward and went big sister mode just like he expected she would. “Let’s not rule out a DNA test, but you’ve all met this little girl before.” The confused look on their faces swapped back to shock once Jasmine showed them Lily’s picture - Debbie had tears in her eyes and glanced at Mason, desperately waiting for him to say something, but the truth was he was never the one to hide this from them.

“I know it’s a shock to all of you, as it is for me too,” Mason began, swallowing a sob before he could start weeping the way he did this morning. “But I need you all with me in this because everything I’ll do from now on is for her, it’s not about me. I need you all to make this about her as well.” It seemed like those words were all his mum needed to ultimately allow those insisting tears to roll down her cheeks and search for her husband’s hand, who softly squeezed it, giving her the comfort she needed that everything would be just fine in the end. “This is far from how I expected it’d be,” Mason added. “But I can’t say that I’m not happy. I truly can’t wait to be with her and be the father she deserves.”

As Mason nervously rubbed his hands on his jeans, trying to control how sweaty and shaky they were, he observed his dad end the short distance between them and pull him into a hug. He didn’t need words from Tony to know his dad was proud of how he was handling the situation, and whatever damage control they’d eventually have to do would be properly taken care of. But, at this moment, it was all about her. It was about making sure that Lily would have everything she always wished for, and deserved.

Mason knew it would be the biggest challenge of his life, he didn’t have 9 months to prepare himself nor to understand how it was to be a father. What if he wasn’t able to love her unconditionally, or to be everything she expected he’d be? What if he ended up being the worst dad he could possibly be? His only hope was in what his father himself represented - Tony taught him to be a good man, to fight for his family, and to be honest and decent.

Mason’s life wasn’t his own anymore, and that frightened him to the core, but he also felt prepared to fully embrace all the changes that’d come with it because deep down, he knew it’d be worth it.

While Jasmine distracted his parents and brother with pictures and the few stories and details she knew about, Mason hurried to call you back. While he waited for you to pick up, he thought how odd something so simple also felt so intimate - calling you, someone he thought about from time to time, to talk about the life you two shared. A beautiful little girl, whom he couldn’t wait to meet.

“Hello?” you breathed on the other side of the phone, trying to concentrate on the call and on Lily jumping on your bed after having a large cup of cocoa with marshmallows. “Lilian Maisie, I swear to God that if you vomit on this bed…”

Mason couldn’t hold back a laugh, but he also felt his chest clenching a bit with the sudden urge to be there. “Hi, it’s me. Mason.”

“Mase, hi!” he grinned at the nickname, loving how it sounded coming from you. “I tried to call you before.”

“I know, I was with my family. I told them about Lily.”

“Oh? How did it go?”

During most of the talk, you felt yourself going a bit dizzy from holding your breath. It was almost like you were waiting for something bad to happen like you were ready to protect your daughter from everything and everyone, but his family’s reaction was expected and you couldn’t really imagine what they were going through, but you felt deeply sorry and embarrassed to be the one causing it - muttering “I’m so sorry, Mason” during the phone call was the least you could do, and although it was sweet of him, the fact that Mason kept telling you to stop apologising didn’t make things easier. You knew you’d have to work hard to fix things, and that as long as it wouldn’t affect her routine, it was their right to have a free pass to your daughter’s life whenever they wanted.

“Did you tell her?” Mason asked, chewing the inside of his cheeks as he anxiously waited for an answer.

“No,” you heard him sigh. “But only because I wanted to ask you something first.” Mason softly hummed, waiting for you to continue. “Would you like to spend Christmas with your daughter, Mase? Bring your family too, or don’t, I dunno. But they’re all more than welco-”

“Yes, I’d very much like to spend Christmas with her,” Mason interrupted. “With you two.”

Insane was the only word you and Mason could find to address this entire situation, it was all happening so fast that you two shared something in common: fear. Of not giving everyone time to process the news, of dropping this on Lily’s shoulders, and, somehow, causing more damage than good. For Lily, it wouldn’t be just meeting her dad, as he was also her best friend’s uncle - no matter how mature she seemed to be, Lily was still just a child and you and Mason feared her reaction. He was particularly terrified of not being good enough, that she’d be disappointed when she found out he’s her dad but you repeatedly told him that Lily loved him unconditionally.

He couldn’t deny that he was a bit disappointed to be going alone, but it made sense that his family decided to stay behind, saying that this moment was private. In a quick phone call with Jaz, she promised they were considering joining your family for Boxing Day and that they all appreciated the invitation - Jaz mentioned how her mum’s emotions were everywhere, wanting to know everything she possibly could about her granddaughter, so you kindly sent a few pictures and videos of Lily growing up.

While the kids were playing, you took the opportunity to let your parents know about your decision to invite Mason, which seemed to make your mum quite happy. You also had to update Emma, who had always been one of the most discreet and private members of the family; she pulled you into a hug and said you could count on her for anything and, between giggles, that she’d do her best to control her twins who were obsessed about football just like any other boys their age. Although overwhelming, it also felt like a relief to be able to finally tell people about Lily’s dad.

You were finally alone with Lily in her room, braiding her hair the way she liked, as she moved unquietly on the chair placed in front of the mirror. “Peanut, sit still please,” you hummed, a frustrated moan parting your lips seeing your request was pointless.

“But I want to know what the surprise is!” Lily pouted, little arms crossed against her chest.

“It won’t be a surprise anymore if I tell you,” you winked, not letting her see how amused you were when she huffed and finally sat still.

Always independent and self-sufficient, Lily politely dismissed your help when she went to pick an outfit. You instructed her to go for something warm, and even if she seemed a bit confused with the tights, she managed to do it all on her own, which brought you both comfort and nostalgia to see her growing up so fast. Until weeks ago, when Jasmine walked into your lives, it was just the two of you against the world and although you believed it to be enough, of course, there was always something missing and not just for her - you missed it too, having someone to share the wonders of the things she did that were so little to some, but so meaningful to you; and you knew that no one could fill that gap better than Lily’s father.

As he drove to your place, Mason pictured all different scenarios of him meeting Lily. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing the mixture of excitement and fear that coursed through him - Mason rehearsed the moment countless times in his mind since he found himself alone, yet he also knew that nothing could truly prepare him for it. As the GPS showed he was getting closer and closer to the estate, a whirlwind of emotions overwhelmed him.

His mind raced with questions. Would she really like him, like you said? Would she be scared? Could he truly be the father she deserved? Mason felt his chest filling with both hope and dread. The weight of all those years, unaware there was a little yet huge piece of him out in the world, pressed down on him - the years he had missed, the milestones he hadn’t been there for. Mason couldn’t let a grudge take over him, there was no point now.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves once he spotted the large gate in front of him. Definitely, no one could ever say it was for the money, he thought, eyes curiously scanning the manor behind the gates - Mason didn’t have to announce his arrival, as he watched it slowly open for him. Not far away, he could spot your figure, standing outside the white door. You seemed as nervous as he was.

As Mason parked his car between a brand new black Range Rover and a racing green Aston Martin Valour he recognised as being limited edition, Mason felt the palms of his hands sweat even more. This wasn’t his usual habitat, none of his friends nor acquaintances were this wealthy. Part of him felt uncomfortable, but the other was relieved to know you were the opposite he’d expect someone this wealthy to be - he instantly assumed your family was as lovely as you.

When your eyes finally met his, you caught him wiping his hands on his jeans. You two could hear the loud waves of laughter of children coming from inside the house, filling the silence between you but Mason felt disconnected, focused solely on meeting his daughter. He finally stood tall in front of you, cheeks pink from the cold but he looked as gorgeous as ever - Mason seemed to relax a bit under your touch when you squeezed his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, Mason,” you said softly. “We’ll do it together and it’s going to be okay, she’s the sweetest girl.”

Mason let out a heavy breath, the smell of mint and the warmth coming from him made you feel slightly dizzy, but you quickly put yourself together. “I just don’t want to scare her,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. You felt sorry for him. “I want this to be perfect.”

You smile warmly. “Just be yourself. She’s naturally a curious little girl and knows I’ve planned a surprise for her, but you’re her biggest dream and everything she always wanted,” you said. “Besides a dog. She desperately wants a dog.”

The way the corners of his eyes wrinkled when he laughed was adorable and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. “Thank you, Y/n. For everything so far. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

“It’s been a journey,” you acknowledged, a soft smile curling the sides of your lips as you felt your cheeks flush pink by the sudden touch of his skin on yours - Mason held your pinky with his, his eyes never leaving yours. “But Lily deserves to know her father, and you deserve to know your daughter. This is the right thing.” Mason nodded, and your eyes fell to your pinkies intertwined. “Shall we?”

Mason’s breath caught in his throat as you guided him inside the manor, and he loved that despite all the wealth, it felt like home - the warmth, the laughs, and the smell of freshly baked biscuits soothed his nerves. He carefully scanned every little detail as you guided him upstairs, then down a hallway adorned with family photos and children’s artwork. You stopped in front of a door decorated with colourful stickers spelling out ‘Lilian’.

“Can you wait inside as I go get her?” Mason nodded and walked into the bedroom after you opened the door for him. “I’ll be back with her in a minute.”

When you left, Mason found himself not knowing what to do, again. His eyes quickly scanned his daughter’s bedroom - it was smaller than he expected, it had a fantastic garden view, and walls painted in baby yellow and white. There were lots of books, a wall full of artwork, ballet stuff, and, last but not least, a football - which made him smile warmly as his chest filled with pride.

“Am I getting my surprise now, mummy?” He heard his sweet voice and Mason swallowed a sob, trying not to look like a creep standing behind that door.

“Mhmm, you can say so. I truly believe you’ll love it, angel.” You replied and he smiled at how sweet you sounded talking to her. “I won’t ask you to close your eyes because I know you won’t,” his daughter replied with a giggle, that made him want to burst into tears.

As the door slowly opened, Mason fully embraced the moment when his life wasn’t just his anymore. There she was, his little girl, looking at him with hazel eyes filled with curiosity - Mason felt like he was looking at himself. She had light brown hair that fell in loose curls around her face. The moment Mason saw her, time seemed to stand still. His heart skipped a beat, and he felt a surge of emotions he had never experienced before. There was an intense mixture of love, joy, and an almost unbearable ache. The sight of her, so small and innocent, with features that mirrored his own, hit him with a profound sense of connection and loss for the time they had spent apart. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes welled up with tears.

Mason realised in that instant just how much he had missed, and how much he wanted to be part of her life. The room seemed to blur around him, and all he could focus on was Lily. His daughter. The word felt both foreign and incredibly right. He was overwhelmed by the desire to protect her, to know her, and to make up for lost time.

“Hello Lily,” Mason said softly, crouching down to her level as you guided her to him. “Remember me?”

Lily nodded. “Is Summer my surprise?” She sounded both excited and confused as she studied him with cautious interest, her mind racing as she tried to understand why her best friend’s uncle was there.

He smiled and shook his head, trying to steady his nerves, eyes looking up searching for yours in a silent ask for help.

“No, baby,” you cooed, “Mason is your surprise.”

Lily’s eyes lit up with interest, head tilted to the side. “Why?”

“Because you’re Maisie and Mason,” he watched you crouching down next to her, your hand softly caressing her back as her full attention was still on him. “Remember all those nights you asked the stars to bring your daddy to you?”

Mason swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes burning with tears - he couldn’t cry now, he didn’t want Lily to see him crying, but he felt so overwhelmed by knowing how much she wanted him. The thought of that precious little girl wishing for her dad every night was one of the most painful he ever experienced, and in that moment Mason silently promised he’d never let her go through that again.

When your words finally hit her, Lily’s jaw slightly dropped and her eyes searched for yours, but quickly went back to Mason - he noticed how her little eyes teared up and she pouted, clearly experiencing a mixture of emotions that were a bit too much for her.

“You’re my daddy?” She sniffed, her voice barely above a whisper, still trying to process what was unfolding before her.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Mason finally allowed tears to stream down his face as he nodded. “Yes, I’m your daddy.”

For a moment that felt like forever, Lily was silent, and Mason couldn’t ignore how you silently reassured her that it was fine to feel everything she was feeling, validating it, by either squeezing her shoulder or running your fingers through her hair. Then, with a sudden burst of emotion, Lily threw her tiny arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Mason felt a surge of warmth and love as he hugged her back, his heart overflowing. “I always wanted a daddy,” she said softly.

You didn’t know how you managed to hold your tears until now, but seeing the wide smile on his face and how Mason sighed in relief, you just couldn’t hold them back any longer. You muffled a sob by covering your mouth with your hand, and the way Mason’s hand searched for yours while not letting Lily go filled your heart with love.

He held her close, his voice choked with emotion. “And I always wanted you, Lily. I’m so happy I found you.”

Mason knew this was just the beginning, but he felt ready to face whatever came next with his daughter, and you, by his side. Lily pulled back slightly, her small hands cupping his face, making Mason giggle. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she curiously scanned his face.

“Summer is my cousin,” she said, a wide smile on her lips when Mason nodded. “Does she know?”

“Not yet,” Mason replied, “But we can tell her together and I’m sure she’ll be really happy.”

As if her thoughts and what was happening were still sinking in, Lily suddenly threw herself back in Mason’s arms, hiding her face in the crook of his neck to muffle her cry - even so, not once did Mason let go of your hand, which was the reassurance you needed to know that things would be alright and that you two would do it together, because you were a family now. You two were everything Lily needed.

“You’re the best Christmas present in the world, Masey,” a slight disappointment coursed down his spine when Lily called him by his nickname, but he’d never rush her to call him ‘dad’. “I-I mean, da-“

“It’s alright, bubba,” Mason interrupted her, softly kissing her forehead when Lily pulled back again. “You can call me whatever makes you feel comfortable, yeah?”

She silently nodded, smiling at him when he wiped her tears. You felt your heart skip a beat at the gesture.

“Do you want to see the drawings I did today?” she asked, small hands reaching his. Lily smiled again when she noticed he was still holding yours.

Mason smiled back, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “I’d love to, sweetheart.”

You gently squeezed his hand, letting it go before Lily led him to her drawing table, where colourful sketches of flowers, animals, and fantastical scenes covered the surface. Lily picked one of her favourites, a vibrant drawing of a butterfly garden, and handed it to him. Mason took the drawing, marvelling at the details and creativity - she really was everything you’d told him, and seeing that by himself filled him with pride. Lily was part of him, she was also his, and he could barely believe that he managed to do that when he often doubted he could do something good, something beyond special.

“This is one of my best,” she said proudly.

“I love the colours you used,” he said, showing interest, which made her eyes sparkle. “You’re the most talented artist.

Lily beamed at the praise, making you chuckle. “Can we draw together sometime, Masey? And play football too?”

“I’d like that very much,” Mason replied, crouching down her level again, holding her hands. “We can do everything you want.”

You watched your daughter narrow his eyes at him as a cheeky smile curled the sides of her lips. “Can we go get a dog now?”

“Lilian Maisie!” you scolded her but couldn’t hold back the happiness that bubbled up inside you and ended up letting a loud laugh part your lips. The way the three of you laughed, filling the room with so much joy and peace made you feel lighter.

Mason leaned forward to gently kiss her forehead again and wrapped his arms around her small figure, lifting her in the air as she squealed between giggles. “Let’s stick to football and drawing, yeah?”

Lily nodded in approval and kissed his cheeks. He was her daddy and he was a lot more than she ever dreamed of; the fact that he was also her best friend’s uncle, which made Summer her cousin, was something Lily still couldn’t believe - she wanted to scream, to see her bestie as soon as possible, hug her and never let her go. There was so much happiness inside her chest that it brought tears back to her eyes, and as she silently watched Mason with what felt like a permanent frown, Lily felt hot tears wet her cheeks again.

“Are you staying forever?” she sniffed, cupping his face with her small hands again.

Mason nodded, wiping her tears with gentle kisses. “Forever, bubba. I’m never leaving you,” he whispered against her skin, and you had to sit on her bed as you felt your legs weaken at how wholesome that moment was.

“Do you promise?” Lily insisted.

“I promise.”

The three of you spent the next hours drawing and chatting, with Lily sharing stories about her favourite things - she proudly told her daddy about being very good at football and was particularly happy when he told her that he was there for the ballet recital. Mason listened intently, soaking in every little detail, every laugh, and every smile. She was indeed the sweetest girl, and as he reached again for your hand - his pinky intertwined with yours - Mason felt a sense of peace and fulfilment that he had never known before.

As the evening drew to a close, and Mason had memorised pretty much every inch of his daughter’s face and how incredible she was, a knock on the door brought the three of you back to Earth. With the kindest smile on her face and pride in her eyes, your mum’s face beamed with happiness as she watched Lily glued to her father.

“Hi,” her voice was soft, and kind, and Mason felt oddly comfortable for a first meeting. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we’re all starting to get ready for Christmas dinner.”

You noticed Mason was slightly confused since it was still the 24th, but you patiently explained that you always had two celebrations: one on the 24th because it was part of your mum’s culture and your dad didn’t want to change it for her, which Mason thought it was quite romantic of him; and the other on the 25th. He liked how you all seemed to be pretty close and supportive, how your mum was very discreet and talked to him like it wasn’t the first time they were seeing each other - she treated him like family, just like you told him before.

Even so, Mason stood up still holding Lily in his arms, and walked towards your mum. “Hi ma’am, I’m Mason,” he smiled politely and the way your mum sighed in delight made you want to run away and hide. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“He’s my daddy, abuelita,” Lily said proudly, making you all chuckle.

“Is he really, amor?” your mum winked at her. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Mason. We settled the guest room for you.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” your mum nodded at his words with a gentle smile on her lips and, after blowing a kiss to your daughter, left.

The hardest task was convincing Lily to let Mason go but he was so gentle and so patient that she didn’t argue when he offered her choices - he definitely understood how tantrums worked, but also understood how much she wanted to spend every second of every minute with him after years of not having him. Together, the three of you went downstairs so Mason could pick up his small luggage as you waited inside and Lily watched him through the window.

“Are you happy, baby?” you asked, running your fingers down her hair.

Lily nodded. “So much, mummy. This is the best Christmas ever!”

She was naturally a happy little girl, but you couldn’t remember seeing her this happy - you also couldn’t shake the feeling that such happiness could’ve come much earlier if you’d searched for him before. The way Mason smiled at her as he made his way back to the house was the sweetest in the world, and before he could even open the door, Lily stormed out to welcome him back. You guided him to the guest room, which was between yours and Lily’s, and Mason awkwardly kissed your cheek before you separated and it was just you and Lily again.

“What is it?” you asked, watching your daughter grinning at you.

“He kissed you, mummy!” Lily whispered between giggles like she was sharing a silly secret. You felt your cheeks burn under her comment but didn’t reply or she’d turn it into an endless teasing.

“Let’s focus on what you’ll wear, yeah?”

Lily nodded. “Can we match outfits, mummy?”

“I suppose we can, peanut.”

The way Lily was focusing a lot more on what you were wearing rather than focusing on herself wasn’t suspicious considering you knew your daughter all too well, Lily was always up to something when she hyper-focused on one thing and made that thing her little project - still, you wouldn’t ruin this for her and allowed her to do whatever she wanted, so that’s how you two ended wearing matching white knit sweaters, black tights and tweed skirts. It was both adorable and funny, but the cherry on top was Mason wearing pretty much the same colours as you, except his sweater had some pretty details in navy blue - he seemed amused by it as there was a permanent grin on his lips as the three of you went downstairs to meet the rest of your family.

You noticed a slight change in his posture when the sound of your father’s voice reached you, so this time it was your turn to hold his pinky as a gesture that it’d be just fine and he had nothing to worry about. Mason seemed surprised by it but also seemed to relax, offering you a warm smile in return, a smile that made your heart beat slightly faster. Before walking into the living room, you let go of him, which got Mason more upset than he expected but he shook it off.

“There you are!” cheered your father, his arms wide open as he ran past you and went straight to Mason. “I was wondering when I’d see you, lad.”

The older man’s sympathy caught him a bit off guard in the most positive way as two main things could make him dislike Mason: getting his daughter pregnant and being a Chelsea player, but still, there he was treating him as if they were longtime buddies. You let go of the fact that your dad pretty much ignored your presence, knowing that there was a chance that he was slightly starstruck that Mason was in his living room. You grinned when Mason glanced at you - a playful smirk curling his lips - before your dad put his arm over Mason’s shoulder and guided him to his collection of overpriced whisky. They were followed by your cousin’s twins, who couldn’t believe that THE Mason Mount was there.

It was just you, your mum, and Emma now, and noticing how Lily seemed a bit upset that her father was the centre of all the attention, you decided to do a FaceTime call with Willow and Jaz. Lily was the one to tell her auntie Willow that her daddy was there with them, that he was staying forever, and that she’d convince him to get her a dog - something you protested again, but asked yourself for how long you’d be able to avoid another addition to the family and one more responsibility on your hands. You promised Willie to keep her updated and that they could meet for a girls’ night once you were back in London, something she was more than happy about, and promised she’d have a very fun schedule for both of you so you could take a break from all the recent stress that surrounded you.

The next one was Jasmine, who answered faster than you expected, which made you giggle as she seemed overly excited to know everything saying Mason hadn’t told her with all the details she wanted. “We’ll have to meet when I’m back in London so I can give you the detailed version,” you said, watching her roll her eyes at you on the other side of the screen.

“You two are the perfect match, no surprise you have a daughter together,” Jaz teased, making your cheeks blush. “Did he cry?”

“He’d cry even if he was a robot, Jaz. It was a very touching moment,” you admitted and she gave you a warm smile. “I’m happy with how well it went, Lily is having the time of her life although right now she’s a bit upset by my dad monopolising him.”

Jasmine let out a cheerful laugh. “He was so nervous to meet your dad,” she confessed. “I’m so happy it went well, Y/n. It’s so important for Lily that he’s there for her.”

You nodded, chewing your lower lip, trying your best not to cry again. “How did your family react, though?”

“Oh well, they still can’t really believe it. I think my mum is still in shock, she keeps saying that she should’ve known when they met, like some sort of grandmother's sixth sense,” you felt your chest clench a bit, knowing it was you who caused this.

“It’s not her fault,” you mumbled, watching Jaz nod. “Is she there now? Do you guys want to see Lily?”

Jaz opened a wide and sweet smile for you and moved her phone just a bit, Debbie was sitting right next to her, with Summer on her lap. Your cheeks blushed at how emotional she seemed to be and you just wanted to hug her and apologise for all the mess you made and for taking five years of her life with Lily, but you’d do it in person.

“Hi auntie Y/n,” Summer said, waving at you.

“Oh sweetie, hello. Someone here wants to see you,” you walked towards Lily, who was sitting on the floor drawing something. Her face lit up when she saw her best friend’s face on the screen.

“Sumi!” Lily tried to take the phone from your hand but you gently pulled away, afraid she’d let slip something that was meant to be told in person. She pouted a little but seemed to understand the message. “I have so much to tell you!”

Amused by your daughter’s excitement, Summer giggled. “I miss you, Lili,” the little girl said, and you noticed how their interaction made Debbie emotional.

You discreetly pointed at Debbie so your daughter would acknowledge her too but you noticed how her cheeks blushed, and she seemed relieved that Debbie took the first step and asked her if she was having fun. Lily showed the drawing she was finishing shortly before the call.

“This is me in the middle, my mummy and my daddy. Now that I know him I can paint his hair colour,” you melted at how she explained every detail. “This is Mr. Peanut, the dog my daddy will give me when we can convince mummy.”

You narrowed at her but she just giggled, followed by Mason right behind you - the way he just stood there watching Lily was the sweetest, a warm smile on his lips. ‘It’s your mum’ you mumbled to him, and you noticed how happy that information made him feel because his smile doubled the size. Right behind him, your dad smiled proudly at you and blew you a kiss. Lily said goodbye to her and ran straight to Mason, while you talked to Jaz for a few more minutes while he and your dad entertained the little one. Shortly after you said goodbye to her and Debbie, you heard Lily slightly upset about her interaction with the latter.

“Do you think she’s upset I didn’t call her grandma?”

Mason shook his head and leaned a bit to kiss the tip of her nose, making her giggle. “Never,” he assured her. “Don’t worry about that bubba. Take your time, yeah? There’s no need to rush.”

Noticing this was a father and daughter moment, your dad walked away and linked his arm to yours, guiding you to where your mum and cousin were while Mason walked with Lily in his arms to see the Christmas lights that decorated the garden, through the window. They were so comfortable with each other that it felt like this wasn’t even their first day together.

Your mum welcomed you with a glass of white wine - she seemed much calmer now even if pretty much the whole family didn’t make it due to the snowstorm.

“Family is family, there’s lots of them missing but what we have tonight is perfect,” she pointed at Lily and Mason. “I’ve never said this to you, but that’s what I’ve been longing to see. My granddaughter with her father.”

“I think he’ll be a great one,” your father added, sipping his whisky. “You can see that he’s trying, the least we can do is to make him feel comfortable.”

Their support, from the very beginning, was one of the things that made you stronger whenever you had to face the challenges of motherhood - your parents were never there to spoil you nor treat you like some sort of victim but rather made you see all the options you had and each of the consequences that followed according to whatever choice you decided to make.

Completely taken by your emotions, you threw yourself in your dad’s arms and your mum joined for a family hug. Being an only child had never been a problem when your parents were so present, despite such busy lives they had. They never missed the most important moments of your life and were always there whenever you needed them. Those two were your best friends.

For the rest of the evening, all of you enjoyed proper family time with games, stories shared between laughs and fantastic food cooked by your mum - she always dismissed the staff so they could spend the holidays with their families and the food was entirely her responsibility. She blushed when Mason said it was one of the best he ever had, and you knew he wasn’t just trying to find a way to her heart. He actually meant it.

“Mummy,” you felt Lily softly poke your ribs, seeming a bit shy to say what was on her mind. You offered her a kind smile in return. “Do you think there’s still time to rewrite my letter to Santa?”

You frowned. “Why, baby?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I think I can wait for the ice skates, I want to ask Santa for my dad to still be here in the morning.”

That was when your heart broke into a million pieces. “Oh baby,” you cooed, pulling a string of hair from her face, and took her in your arms, sitting on the same armchair where you first spoke to her while still pregnant. “He’s not leaving”.

“I just want to make sure, mummy…”

“I know, we’ll write if that’s what you want,” you quickly replied, not wanting to invalidate her feelings. “You know when you were still in my tummy and was the size of a bean,” she giggled. “I sat in this armchair and spoke to you for the first time. I promised I’d try to be the best mummy to you and sometimes I wish I was better.”

“You’re the best mummy in the world,” Lily said, her small hand touching your face as her thumb softly stroked your cheek. You smiled softly.

“Now, in this same armchair, I promise that he’s not leaving. Your daddy is staying forever and now you have another grandma and grandpa, you have a cousin, aunties, uncles…”

“Do you think they’ll like me?” she mumbled, hazel eyes looking at you like she could see your soul.

“They’ll love you, peanut.”

“I’ll love them too,” she said before a long yawn, blinking a few times as she was clearly starting to fight against her need to sleep. “But I’ll always love you the most, mummy…” Lily mumbled before her eyes finally closed and, after a long sigh, her body finally relaxed in your arms and the usual low, cute snores started.

All the love that your daughter gave you had always been something that overwhelmed you. The way her face lights up when you pick her up at school, how she always wants to show you first the new things she learns, and how she’s always checking on you and making sure you’re happy were a few of the things that made you know for sure that if soulmates were indeed real, Lily was yours. Pride always coursed through your veins whenever she showed an act of kindness, and joy involved your entire being knowing that it had influence of how well you raised her - still, you still couldn’t shake the anguish that made your chest clench whenever you thought about how you prived her from another life the moment you decided to hide her from Mason. That was the feeling that kept you up for hours, rolling from one side to the other in bed, with the desperate need to cry always hovering over you.

After putting on your robe and grabbing the baby monitor, you guided your tired body to the kitchen and, trying not to make too much noise, prepared yourself a cup of chamomile tea hoping it’d save your life. You enjoyed the combination of silence and the sweet hot liquid relaxing your body - the house was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional creak of the floorboards and the soft hum of the refrigerator. Lost in your thoughts, you sat at the kitchen table staring at the half-empty cup, replaying the events of the past weeks over and over in your mind.

You heard soft footsteps and looked up to see Mason entering the kitchen, his face pretty much like yours: etched with worry and exhaustion. He hesitated a bit at the doorway before stepping in, your eyes meeting his.

“Can’t sleep too?” you asked gently, watching him take a seat across from you.

Mason shook his head. “Too much on my mind.”

You nodded, your gaze dropping to the table. Taking a deep breath, you felt your voice trembling as you spoke. “I need to say something.”

Mason looked at you, sensing the weight of your words. “Go ahead, Y/n. I’m listening.”

You wrung your hands, struggling to find the right words. Looking at him again, you felt a knot forming in your throat. “I feel so guilty about keeping Lily away from you. I honestly thought I was doing the right thing at the time, but I realise it was a lot more about protecting myself rather than protecting her. Seeing you with her now… and how happy she is. I feel awful, and I know I was wrong.”

Mason sighed deeply, his emotions a turbulent mix of anger, sadness, and understanding.“I confess that this is like… my worst nightmare. A child from a casual hookup,” he confessed, and you felt tears burning your eyes. “And knowing this child exists five years later did make me angry. I’ve missed so much of her life and there’s so many things involved.”

Tears welled up in his eyes but you watched him wipe them away quickly. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered.

“I can’t just insert myself in her life without thinking about every detail, it’s much deeper because I bring a lot with me to everyone that’s part of my life,” much to your surprise, Mason reached for your hand, and, with your heart skipping a beat, your pinkies intertwined again. “I’m angry and hurt but I’m willing to push that away because I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, at the same time. Lily is incredible, she’s sweet and kind and you’ve been doing a fantastic job. She’s more than I could’ve hoped for, so I’ll fight everyone and everything to keep her safe. To keep you safe too.”

You didn’t wipe the tears that rolled down your cheeks. “I robbed you those first five years and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that, but I hope you can, for Lily’s sake. She deserves to have both of her parents.”

Mason’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “I need to feel that I can trust you, forgiveness will eventually come, but it’s also not like I hate you,” you watched how his cheeks suddenly blushed. “I think you’re amazing and I often thought about you and always hoped that I could find you someday.”

“Just not under this circumstance, yeah?” you added, and you two shared a laugh that pushed away whatever tension between you.

Mason nodded, letting go of your hair to stand up from his chair and sit on the one beside you. “I’ll take what life is giving me. We’ll figure it out together, Y/n. For her, and us too,” he pulled you into a comforting hug as you clung to him, your sobs quieting as you found solace in his arms.

“I’m so grateful you’re here, Mason,” you confessed as he stroked your back soothingly.

“We’re a family now, Y/n. It’s going to be tough but we’ll get through whatever comes our way. As long as we keep Lily safe and give her the love and support she deserves, everything will be fine.”

You remained there in the quiet kitchen, holding onto each other, both knowing that while the road ahead would be challenging, you were committed to facing it together for the sake of your daughter. Holding hands, you walked back to the bedroom hallway in silence, and Mason softly kissed your forehead before heading back to his. You stood there for a few minutes, contemplating how his lips felt so good against your skin, before deciding you’d sleep the few hours left for sunrise with Lily. With her hair splattered over the pillow, she had a smile on her lips as she softly hummed words you couldn’t understand, which stopped when you cuddled her under the duvet and finally closed your eyes, letting sleep relax your body.

social media au

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount fic #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #dad!mason mount #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n

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gojoroui · 10 hours

Note

POPS IN AND SHAKES YOU

BAMBI. you are the next one on my list to convert to a hsr / genshin papa enthusiast >:)

bambi…. do u have any thoughts abt hsr and genshin papas (twirling my hair as i type)

໒꒱ ‧₊˚ HONAKI STAR RAIL MEN AS DADS — VARIOUS HSR.

ft. jing yuan, blade, dan heng, aventurine x fem! reader (separate)

content. literally so much fluff u can consider ssfw (super sfw), BUT is kinda suggestive, established relationship (marriage), dan heng’s part is slightly il dan heng, lots of mentions of pregnancy, parental au, somewhat a headcannon w little blurbs in between !!!!, lots & lots of kisses, pet names used for reader, not proofread

notes. IM SO SRRY IT TOOK THIS LONG; hopefully i cooked/redeemed myself w this 😞🙏 made a specially for @neuvistar — maryse !! i also made the writing smaller bc i don’t want it to look longer (srry if it’s hard to read :’)) i doubt myself w this idk if it’s even good (i cut off half of the characters i was gonna write bc i honestly idk 😾 & i did some of them dirty IM SORRY) </3 but i actually do have thoughts, but i hate when i have smt in mind & i js can’t seem to write it down SHAKES YOU IN FRUSTRATION

JING YUAN — is literally father and daddy coded you cannot persuade me that he isn’t (i will throw hands at you) he’s super sweet and gentle with you before and after your pregnancy, he’ll actually probably treat you the same after you get your children — although maybe he’ll be more patient. overall he’s on the chiller dad side. personally, jing yuan would naturally know how to handle his children even when they’re a few hours after birth. he would cradle them with so much care and gentleness like your baby is made of fragile glass. but what’s to expect? he has yanqing to deal with in the first place.

JING YUAN — would be the man to kiss your forehead multiple times during pregnancy, he’ll actually transform into a male wife, he’ll also go as far as canceling all of his meetings and not give a damn about each one, even if you tried telling him to; he’s stick by your side like super glue. he’s SO reassuring. it’s a shame fu xuan had to deal with a man like him, he’ll never focus properly even if he went to work. all he has on his mind is you and his soon-to-be little versions of you and him.

“take it easy, love. i’ll be right by your side if you need me.”

JING YUAN — who would and will have two daughters, he’s such a girl dad i can see it. i feel like he wouldn’t (??) have twins, just like one child at a time, a very supportive dad. he could easily cheer up his daughters anytime, like when they trip, fall, scrap their knee, need help on homework, need assistance on changing, and so much more.

JING YUAN — who takes naps with his daughters anywhere, anytime. his daughters definitely inherited their father’s love for sleep (and his lazy personality), they enjoy sleeping just like their sleep deprived father. you’ll as often walk in on the three sleeping together — the children wrapped in jing yuan’s warm, muscular arms. unfortunately, you go a long way just to wake up your husband, what makes you think waking up your husband and two more lazy children that have the same ego as their father help?

“mommyy… 5 mor’…”

“mhm, what she said… just 5 more minutes, darling… how about you join us..?

JING YUAN — spoils his daughters. he doesn’t spoil them too much, or else they’ll grow up to be greedy, so he’ll spoil them just a right amount that they know how to behave properly when receiving something thoughtful. he cherishes the moments he gets to spend with you and the children together — he occasionally schedules times so he can get home at a specific time to spend with his family. eating dinner, playing games, and just enjoying his family. on rare occasions, his girls will wake up early and even come to your’s and jing yuan’s bedroom to wake you two up in the morning! leading to a huge cuddle session and cute babbling from your mix of you and jing yuan.

BLADE — is quite the dad, actually. he obviously won’t show it, but he’s in between being extremely nervous and extremely excited on being a dad. he’s not sure if it’ll be worth the shot even being a father, due to all of the trauma and greif he’s had in his life. but after he met you, he’s started to diminish his need to disappear. additionally, you’ll be there to reassure him.

BLADE — is a very good father. like before, he’s nervous, but he has soft spot for you — which means he has an even softer spot for his own children. he’s a girl dad; one daughter and i can see it. he takes REAL good care of her when she’s just minutes out the womb. just the way blade’s eyes softened so much and his mouth slight gaped can tell how blade sees his beautiful daughter. the man to tuck his girl’s stray hairs out of her face and kiss her face afterwards.

“she looks just like me..”

BLADE — who's so gentle with his daughter. despite being a wanted criminal who fights with much skill and discipline, it’s a true surprise to see him so vulnerable while using his rough hands to softly cradle his daughter who’s ten times smaller than him. he’ll let his daughter play with his bangs and long luscious hair, even if he has to brush it all over again. he doesn’t give a single care about his hair, as long as his daughter gets her entertainment. he’ll let her slap his face, squish his cheeks, bump his nose, whatever (he probably wouldn’t let them all slide). on some days, when blade’s not running around and escaping from soldiers, he lets his daughter go ALL out on him. the two will definitely play — dress up, dolls, tea party’s, and much, much more (but it’s not like he can say no).

BLADE — who unfortunately “becomes” a pretty princess once his daughter gets to work. neon clips, silky ribbons, fake makeup, pink hair ties, jewelry, everything. and when you witness it, it’s more than difficult to hold in your laugh.

“blade!… blade?-”

“don’t.”

BLADE — is a pretty accurate protective father, but sometimes, it’s not even his protectiveness that’s acting. just a small glance or look from him can scare any boy from staying near or close your daughter. you remind him constantly to give his daughter some freedom, but what’s he gonna do if he’s doing nothing — but staring at the boy? it’ll take time for him to accept a guy that your daughter actually really likes and wants to be with, but don’t worry, blade will be “kind” enough to do it for his daughter. but don’t expect him to accept a man so easily (and the man to accept a dad-in-law so… scary), he’ll definitely have them take a “trial” on something to be able to be his daughter’s lover. heads up, if any guy hurts his daughter in any way, physically, mentally, or emotionally, they better count their days.

DAN HENG — is literally the sweetest dad to ever have, it’s tooth rottening. he’s like the entire package. he’ll make sure his children get a good education, live in a good environment, provide them with a decent life style, and hope they grow up to be amazing people (i’m crying rn). but before actually receiving you giving birth to your child, dan heng was the biggest nervous thing ever. he never thought to ever have a child of his own, and doubt how he’ll have to work it out. but you reassured him, and true to your words, he was.

DAN HENG — stays by your side almost all the time during your pregnancy. even when he had lots of trailblazing with the crew, he insisted to stay back to care for you and his future children. fortunately, he was allowed to by himeko and welt — unfortunately for march 7th and the trailblazer, they were missing a member to provoke. he can and will do everything and anything for you; the whole princess treatment. need water? right on top of your bed stand. need a pillow? he’s already rushing for a spare one. need something to eat? he’s already provided it (breakfast in bed guys). don’t forget the cuddles on the side, he’ll provide that anytime. his cuddles are literally so warm it warms up your body in the process, he’s like your personal heater. dan heng will definitely rub soothing circles on the belly — he knows it gets difficult to be a mother (not by experience guys get it out of your head), so he hopes all his acts of service helps you.

“shhh… take it easy love.”

DAN HENG — would have 2 children, a son and a daughter. unless it’s il dan heng, then that’s something else. i’d say the son is the oldest, although i don’t exactly 100% see it. there will be tears when he gets to see his very first child, holding them like it’s like his very last chance of living. he’ll immediately kiss your forehead after you’ve given birth to your and his’ child, promising to care for your son (and future daughter) ‘till the day he dies. he’ll also be by your side when your in the process of delivering your child. rubbing circles on your hands, lightly hushing and kissing you, intertwining hands, and saying the most supportive and loving words ever. and you maybe even cried during it because you can’t believe to have such an amazing husband like dan heng by your side (i’m crying again). additionally, the way his heart and eyes melted when you send him a small smile and slowly closed your eyes to rest.

DAN HENG — who like blade, would let his children play with his hair. sometimes, he’d transform into his vidyadhara and let his children play with his long hair; clipping clips, tying his hair, fashioning it, etc. i guess the son wouldn’t be so into that, but he’ll help his sister dress up their father. you melt whenever you happen to see your little toddlers play and try to chase after their father’s dragon tail. careful not to have them trip or fall, dan heng enjoys teaseing them and having them run after his tail — like a puppy, hoping that they manage to catch his tail and play atop it. i also can’t help but think of the thought dan heng would have his tail “turn” into a slide for his little children! they would just slide down and run back to their father for another round until they’re exhausted.

“hehe... again! again!”

“alright, you can slide some more, but then it’s gonna be your nap time.”

“ok, daddy!”

DAN HENG — who lovingly tucks his kids in their bed or crib when it’s their nap time, or it’s their bedtime. it’s such a heartwarming scene to witness, it could easily melt even the coldest of hearts. i think dan heng would sing them lullabies, but occasionally when he feels like it’s time for them understand the meanings of his songs. dan heng slightly blushes when he sees you in the doorway, flustering that you got to see how vulnerable he is, but that’s not a bother.

AVENTURINE — is one of the funnest and dedicated dads. he just loves his children so much, even if he has a side job, he always manages to make time for them and you. would definitely cry tears of joy and happiness when he receives them, stroking their small heads and holding them so tenderly. he loves you so much for giving him his children; he'd babble on forever about how you're such an amazing wife for working so hard for him and you, probable crying while saying all those heartwarming things. he's more than grateful to have his little children.

AVENTURINE — is such an AMAZING dad and supporter oh my goodness. he's so caring when you're a few months and/or weeks pregnant. maybe he becomes a male-wife (??), that's very visible in my brain. for awhile, he would take a break on going to the casino — to stay home and care for you. would easily decline any offer from any opponents that want to gamble. you would sometimes just wake up in the morning and hear his conversations to somebody about some business.

"no... im good... listen, for the last time, im not. please and thank you." hangs up.

"oh! mornin' babe. huh? — oh, its nothing, just some brat."

AVENTURINE — is a girl dad, but i feel like he would have one son and two daughters. he would love them all equally and take care of them so much; giving them a childhood he never managed to have. aventurine i guess i pretty known for being quite a guy, but his kids would be the sweetest ever — which he said was inherited by you. but just like their dad, they have another side (😈), they can be SO troublesome and little maniacs if they want to.

AVENTURINE — who gets tackled to the ground whenever he gets home from work by his children. it’s so cute and entertaining to see him get beaten to the ground by kids so much younger than him. they would just tackle his — grabbing his hat and coat and wearing them themselves ITS SO CUTE. additionally, i see aventurine taking the three bundles of joy to his gambling games and have them like sit on his lap and let them experience it. and also watching their dad ‘win’, is what he said. but after a couple weeks of their visits, aventurine eventually had to limit their visits because they kept exposing his cards; throwing them, playing with them, shouting out his cards, etc.

“daddy has only two more blue cards!”

“and one yellow!”

“oh! hehe… don’t shout out, love, it’s rude.”

AVENTURINE — who does the weirdest things with his kids. he would one hundred percent (sorry not sorry) dab up his son and teaches him the weirdest shit ever. like it’s kinda not surprising at all. he would also let his daughter play around with his necessary stuff. many of his other stuff needs to been hidden well, because you know, his kids are pretty curious.

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hippolotamus · 2 hours

Text

Sentence Sunday ✨

I can show you lies 'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks 'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

Beloved mutuals and pocket pals... I honestly don't know what to say for myself. This is a case of 'I listened to a song too much, I had an idea I knew I was never gonna write' turned 'I'll just throw it out as a prompt' --> 'I'll just make a moodboard' --> 'Oh god, I've written over 1k words in place of a summary'. SO. Have... whatever this is, T Swift influenced Buddie actor au. Under the cut to save your dash.

Honestly, if the world still exists in the morning, Eddie Diaz doesn't really give a fuck. His girlfriend left, claiming he's still not over his late wife, and his teenage son, the last thread connecting him to said wife, went to go live with his grandparents. After, of course, blaming Eddie for pushing 'yet another one' away. Christopher wouldn't even look at him before he went.

Then there's Anita Mills, his agent, who is probably a few blood pressure points away from a stroke at this point. Assuming she doesn't fire him first.

Let her, he thinks, grabbing a bottle of Maker's Mark from the cabinet. He has a string of blockbuster films to his name, not to mention a commendable collection of Oscar's and Emmy's. Not that they made his parents proud or kept his wife from leaving him before she died. But they exist as proof that he's had a successful career. Between investments and liquid assets he has more money than he would know what to do with in a hundred lifetimes. So, fuck it.

Eddie breaks the wax seal and twists off the red cap. He doesn't even bother with a glass, not really seeing a need. He's never been a big drinker, but lately his tolerance has grown considerably. Indulging until he passes out seems like an ideal use of his time right now anyway. If he wakes up after? Well, he'll consider that a success.

------------------

"Hey! What the hell?!" Eddie manages, coughing and trying not to choke on the ice cold water hitting his body. He opens his eyes to see Mills towering over him, glowering and holding an empty vase. He swipes a hand across his face. "Seriously, Anita, what the fuck was that?"

"I don't know, Eddie, you tell me." She disappears for less than a minute, returning with a hand towel she unceremoniously drops on his chest. "Help me out here. What's today?"

He wriggles himself to something resembling sitting and leans back against the coffee table. "What's today?" He parrots back dumbly.

Anita crosses her arms and quirks an eyebrow. "I asked you first."

Today, today, today. Where was he supposed to be- "Shit! The interview with, uh, fuck." He snaps his fingers and racks his brain trying to remember a name or a face. All he knows is they're important.

"Claudette Collins. Very good, Eddie, you got it part way."

"Give me ten minutes, I'll put myself together and we can go," he says, fighting the violent wave of nausea that hits as he scrambles to stand up.

"Save your poor carpet from getting puked on and sit the hell down."

"What? No, I can-"

"Eddie," Anita interjects, "the interview was five hours ago. The interview with the Claudette Collins. The one that took me months of phone calls, groveling and cashing in favors to get for you."

Fuck. "Anita, I'm so sorry. How-"

"Save it." Anita holds her hand up, effectively silencing him. It takes him back to being seven years old and having to explain why his dad's truck had an enormous dent in it. She rests her hands on her hips, pacing back and forth as she purses her lips. Eventually she sits in the leather armchair situated in the corner. "Eddie, you and I have known each other a long time. A long time. I've been your agent since you walked into my shitty office back in Dallas. Given your impressive display of awards, I'd say we've done pretty well together."

She inhales sharply, rubbing at her temple. Anita doesn't mince words, it's part of why he's always liked her. He never has to question where he stands. She says 'jump' and he knows exactly how high. It's not difficult to guess what's coming next.

"Eddie, I know you're going through a rough patch. What you're dealing with is hard enough without seeing it splashed on every tabloid and trashy website. Not to mention none of those places knows the real story, so it's all a bunch of 'she said he might have said' bullshit. But you've made it through tougher things." Anita doesn't need to clarify that she's talking about Shannon's death and how his parents tried to take Christopher. "I don't know what's happening this time, but I need to take a step back. My wife has made it very clear that all of my attempts at stress management are not working and that if I can't get it under control I shouldn't be surprised when I come home to an empty house. So."

Eddie swallows, waiting for the inevitable and cursing himself for pretending he wouldn't care.

"I've talked to a few friends in the business and found someone willing to take you on."

What?

"What? You're not firing me?"

Anita's features soften. "Technically, yes. I am very much dropping you like a scorpion I found in my boots. However, like I said, I found someone willing to work with you. The name is Bobby Nash. He runs a smallish agency but don't let that throw you. He's cobbled together some pretty impressive talent. I assume you've heard of Evan Buckley?"

Eddie scoffs. "Of course I have. Who hasn't? Christ, he's everywhere you look. I can't pass a damn bus stop without seeing his face." A few details begin to click into place within Eddie's muddled brain. "Bobby Nash is his agent?"

"Sure is. And we all know the stories about Evan's past aren't the type you trot out at parties. My advice is that you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, go with Nash and do whatever he tells you to do. He even has a role in mind for you, costarring with Buckley. What do you say?"

What else was there to say? If Eddie didn't want to get blacklisted or wind up as some washed up tragic Hollywood story, being gossiped about where everyone - including his son - could see what a failure he was...

"I guess I say- when can I meet him?"

"Good answer." Anita clasps her hands together and gives him her signature smirk that tells him she approves. "Just leave everything to me."

Up to this point, Eddie has trusted Anita implicitly with all the messy business that comes with having him for a client. Why stop now?

tagged by @loveyouanyway @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @tizniz

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @epicbuddieficrecs @a-noble-dragon @mountedeverest @fortheloveofbuddie

@weewootruck @saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow

@taketheplanspinitsideways @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz

@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend

@thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @underwaterninja13 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss

@steadfastsaturnsrings @inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes

@shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress

@bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @ladydorian05

@lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus

@thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

#hippo writes #buddie wip #actors au #not what i saw myself doing today #but when is that ever true #fic: lights camera bitch smile #seven sentence sunday #sentence sunday #sunday sentences #do i know what i'm doing?#not a clue

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oursecretways · 1 day

Text

Deus ex machina I.

idol! Minho × reader notes: I was listening to the song while I struggled to write and the idea came to me. Might be a bit shorter AND a two parter. genre: fluff, slice of life, little angst word count: 736 warning(s): reader thinking badly about themselves

master list

where you're stuck on writing your book and Minho just tired and worried.♡

You’ve been sitting at it for hours at this point. Somehow nothing fixed it; you’ve done research, watched your current drama, drew your OCs, watched streams, ate, everything someone can name for writer's block, you did. It has been going on for weeks, at this point you considered writing an email to your publisher that you are giving up. You’ve been beating yourself up constantly, how bad of a writer you are, that you are a failure and that you will never be able to achieve your goals. It didn’t help that your boyfriend, Minho, is in Japan with his boy band doing promotion work for their next comeback. You wanted to be finished by the time he will be home, so you two have time, since the boys got a couple of days off in their hectic work schedule.

It was passed 4 am when the front door opened — which you did not realize since you’ve been rewriting the same thing over, and over again — Lino quietly walked into the room after he got himself sorted out, thinking you might be asleep, but he was wrong. All he saw that you are slouching in front of the laptop, earbuds in, probably listening to one of your playlists, writing a paragraph, then deleting it, then writing it again. He knows that you always tried to solve the problem like this: going at it until it is solved, although maybe this time you should approach it differently, and he just knew how to.

He tapped your shoulder, making you jump slightly. You took your earphones out as you looked behind you, shocked. “Min! Wait, what is the time? Oh god, I am so sorry babe, you could’ve called me!” He just chuckles and caresses your face, “I figured that you’d be sleeping, but I was wrong. Why aren’t you in bed? And don’t try to tell me you were just finishing up, I’ve seen you deleting and rewriting the same paragraph.” Minho knows you like he knows the back of his hand, you cannot escape his all-knowing gaze. “Okay, let’s go, we’re going to bed. You can save your progress, but you cannot do anything else, c’mon.” You stare at him in awe — after a while you pulled yourself together, saved your novel, and turned off your PC. He unloaded his dirty clothes into the laundry bin, and got ready for his bedtime. Once you finished packing your thinking, and putting your dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, you joined him. You brushed your teeth, did your skin care, and brushed your hair out; you massaged your neck and shoulders as you walked into your shared room. The smell, and the calming sound of the storm outside hit you just in the right spot; you felt your body starting to relax, as you climbed into your bed, finding a perfect spot in your boyfriends arm. You said your good nights, and you drifted off, not feeling the kiss he gave you on your head nor his worried words.

Your dream was horrible: you couldn’t finish your book, so everyone hated you. Minho was disappointed to the point he broke up with you. Minho woke you up, looking a bit worried, “Y/N! Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” You felt like it was silly, so you just shook it off. Couldn’t believe that you would make him wake you up just after a couple of hours of sleep, because you’re incapable of doing your job. You took a shaky breath trying to fight off the thoughts that yelled how worthless you are, or how you just got lucky, but you don’t deserve any of this. Minho made you turn to him, “Okay, this ain’t funny anymore, let’s be honest with each other. I see that you are stuck with your book, I assume you got into a slump. I will help you with it once we slept enough, but it is time to tell me what’s wrong, Missy” His firm, but kind voice is what broke you: you started crying talking about how you are a horrible person being for not waiting him more appropriately, how you cannot just write what you need to write and so on. When you looked up, you anticipated a disapproving Lino, but all you saw is concern. He pulled you closer, and hummed you sweet melodies until you fell asleep.

🏷️(open)

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queer-n-here · 1 day

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Hi lol I’m just here to request Tachihara again (i was the one who requested him before haha). I saw that you wrote the fic and that’s awesome and I’m super grateful, but I wasn’t able to finish it bc I can’t read noncon (just a personal thing).

But yeah! I’ve been loving your other works and I was debating even sending this cuz i didn't wanna sound entitled or anything but if you’re up for writing another Tachihara fic, I’d be stoked to read it! The other options on the poll you put out all sounded really good so maybe one of those? Up to you! And feel free to shoot down this request, no hard feelings :)

Bro 😭 I'm sorry the fic wasn't to your taste. Also, this is for other people who wanna send asks, too. If there are certain themes that you're not comfortable with, please specify! I don't want to make y'all uncomfortable, and I think I remember you saying that you were okay with anything, anon *accusing side eye*.

Hehe, no worries though, and you didn't come off as entitled at all. In fact, you sounded so polite I was like damn I need to do this hahah (dont worry, I took no pressure, as you can probably tell from the time it took for me to dish this things out, I'm sorry brooooo 😭😭)

Also, I'm glad you like my works! ☺ Thank you for reading, and I hope you like this one, too!

In the poll that I did for Tachihara, the second place was taken by 'Edging+Overstim' so imma do that one!

Contents: Edging 'Hara and then overstimming him.

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, lil bit of nipple play, one case of degradation, edging, overstim, I'm writing this at 2:24 because my bae just went offline and I'm horny :(

Tachihara was barely even sane about three hours in.

You'd been edging him for so long, he couldn't focus on anything anymore. His eyes were dripping with tears, his hips bucking up to push himself deeper into your cock, only for you to grab his waist with a hiss and hold him in place.

Gods, you couldn't help but admire how sexy he looked like that, eyes glazed over and thighs trembling, hands clutching your shoulders so tight he'd drawn blood a while ago. Another sob shook his bruised chest as you remained stationary in him, so big against his walls but not moving.

"[Name]," He whined, the jut of his throat rolling. "Hhng, p-please..."

"Hmm..." You considered giving him what he wanted.

You raised a hand, letting it trail across his skin, caressing his torso, his waist, his thighs...

Tachihara moved to lean into the touch, his gaze pleasingly pathetic despite his brain having turned to mush.

You leaved down and, surprising the both of you with your gentleness, placed a kiss on Tachihara's forehead.

"Alright, then." You said, your voice husky with desire.

And then your hips started moving again, this time with a ferocity that sent the man underneath you scrambling for purchase, his grip slipping from your shoulders. His hands landed on the sheets on either side of his head and he gripped them tightly, back arching as your thrusts grew deeper and deeper.

The sounds of sex echoed across the room, and each one of your thrusts hit Tachihara's sweet spots at the accuracy of a professional sniper, sending his mind hurling, making him whimper. His moans were growing louder, and his untouched dick was leaking pre-cum onto the sheets.

It didn't take Tachihara long to come. A couple tugs at his nipples had him spilling all over himself, making a mess out of his abdomen. His body shuddered as he panted, body lax under you, till he realized you weren't stopping.

"A-ah! I just... Mmph! I just c-came, [Name], please..."

"Please what, baby?" You drawled, your pace wild and unrestrained, your gaze on Tachihara's body predatory. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

And he just whined, fat tears spilling from his red and puffy eyes as he shook his head, but at the same time his hole clenched around you, making you widen your eyes and then smirk.

"Such a fucking slut, 'Hara..."

You ended up fucking him till he was shooting blanks, till the half-begging expression on his face slowly turned into a fucked-out one, till he couldn't even say your name anymore.

Clean up was a pain in the neck as usual, but after changing the sheets when you laid behind Tachihara in the bathtub, holding him against you, you couldn't help but sigh in contempt.

As long as you had him by your side, you couldn't hell but think that life was good.

#dom male reader #top male reader #dom reader #sub bsd #bungou stray dogs #sub bsd x you #bsd x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub character #sub character x you #top reader #sub male character x you #sub male character

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steviewashere · 2 days

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This may be a bit out there request (also feel free to ignore) for a small oneshot, but can I request some pure steve angst? him and hop sharing a drink, no ships, just two dudes talking about shitty things that have happened to them over the past few years. My boy desperately needs a father figure.

Okay, I'm so sorry this took so long to answer. I literally started writing it, forgot about it, and then came back and couldn't think of anything. And I also didn't have Hopper share too much, but I hope this suffices some. This was a fun challenge. <3

Pairing: Steve Harrington & Jim "Chief" Hopper CW: Discussion of Canon Traumatic Events, Brief Mention of Canon Violence Tags: Post-Canon, Post-Season 4, Angst and Hurt/Comfort

🫂—————🫂 He’d been sitting outside with his head between his knees for the better part of half an hour when the door creaked open behind him. Even as the footfalls, heavy and slow, made their way towards him, Steve didn’t dare drag his eyes up. Kept them securely at his feet. To the wooden step underneath him. On the off chance that whatever world existed around him was a mirage.

The person sits down next to him with an unceremonious grunt. Their breaths are as heavy as their steps. A swallow clicking in their throat, probably dry and overused. Something chilled is pressed against his denim clad thigh. And that’s when Steve finally draws enough effort to look up.

Hopper sits hunched, head pointed at the trees beyond his cabin, eyes darting between them. In his right hand is an offered, cold bottle of beer. A firm outstretched bridge. And Steve tentatively takes it. He’s not quite old enough to be partaking in this, Hopper should know that, but also—he’s not the chief anymore, is he? So, why should he care?

His beer is already uncapped when he raises it to his face. Knocking it back and taking it in with a deep swallow. The foam churning on his tongue, sugary between his teeth, and moist on his lips. He heaves a sigh. Mutters, “Thanks.”

Another bottle is drank from. The slosh against the sides of the glass an easy sound. Hopper smacks his lips together. “Looked like you needed one,” he states gruffly. A swig. “God knows I did with all that damn commotion in there.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs back, “it’s too loud for me.” He takes a small sip at his drink. Shifts the bottle back and forth between his palms, relishing in the crisp condensation on his skin. Begins to pick at the label where it looks like it’ll peel away easily, if he just gave it his full effort. “I don’t even know why I came over. I can’t stand noisy shit.”

“Feel like the old Steve Harrington that I’ve met would say otherwise,” Hopper muses. Instead of dignifying it with a response, Steve just nods his head in silent agreement. Because yeah, pre-November, 1983 Steve would be doing keg stands and chanting at the top of his lungs. Not moping around on the front porch of the ex-chief of police. Sharing beer of all things.

The noise inside the house floats out from under the crooked front door. A mixture of birdsong and laughter. The subtle soft chirps of crickets beginning to wake up. It’s good outside, the air cold on Steve’s face and the sun nearly set. He takes a deep breath and just absorbs.

“Sometimes,” Hop starts softly when their shared silence stretches too long, “sometimes I look at you and see myself.”

Steve swallows around nothing. “That a good thing?” He asks just as quiet.

“No,” Hopper answers honestly. “You look like you’d rather be under the dirt than be anywhere. There’s…you’re a lonely lookin’ nineteen year old.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, well—“ Steve sighs. “—maybe I’d rather that. All things considered, Hopper.” There are eyes on him, he can sense them through the aching joint of his left shoulder. They burn him. It hurts to have attention like this on him, after so much time alone. And he knows that he’s got Robin and the party members—he’ll maybe have Eddie if he pulls through in the hospital. But that doesn’t make his house any less silent, or his parents’ room any less dusty, or his bed any less cold.

“You got anybody you can talk to, kid? Outside of Robin?”

Steve sniffs. Picks at the label on his beer bottle. Tries not to notice his shaking hands. “Who ‘m I gonna talk to?” He asks lowly. “A shrink is gonna think I’m crazy, put me away. And y’know how my parents are. They aren’t going to believe me, let alone listen.”

Hopper’s leg bumps his. Beer bottle clinking against the porch as he sets it down. He ducks down, enough to make direct eye contact with Steve. His eyes are fierce, yet inviting and soft. Steve’s stomach churns. “Talk to me, then. You need an adult who will understand you? I’m right here.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything. Everything. Something, Steve.” A hand lands gently on his shoulder. The warmth a lull, a sweet thing. And something inside of him begins to melt. But he doesn’t say anything, still. Hopper sighs long and winded. And the touch dissipates, leaving Steve drifted and yearning.

Behind them, Hopper’s cabin swells with noise. That raspy laugh of Robin’s. And Mike’s honk snorting. Even Jonathan is adding something, a few loud comments here and there. “I can’t believe we won!” Dustin crows and the others join in intense agreement. And Steve wonders why he can’t celebrate like they can. What happened to him. Where his joy lays in all this.

Hopper sips his beer again, looking out at the trees once more. Smacks his lips together. “I don’t know how to celebrate this shit,” he admits quietly. “I’m…Part of me is excited to not see my girl use those powers of hers again. To hopefully see her hair grow out. But another part of me is—I just remember all the bad shit that happened before we got to this point.”

“Yeah,” Steve croaks. He gulps a good third of his beer in one go. The sour bitterness of the drink burning his throat alive. When he pulls the bottle away, he absentmindedly rubs at the dark red demobat scar on his neck. “Especially when my body remembers and is covered in my failures,” he mutters.

Beside him, Hopper makes a noise of agreement. A hum. A grunt sort of thing. “I used to be a fat guy.” He half-heartedly chuckles. “Now I’m just this skinny dude with real short hair and the eyes of a World War Two soldier.”

Steve snorts. “And I used to have plain, blemish free skin. Now look at me, Hop.” He gestures loosely at his own face and neck when Hopper does turn and look over. “No amount of coconut oil—or whatever—is going to get rid of this shit. Like my mom keeps insisting on. I mean…She doesn’t know all the shit I’ve been through. The—The plate I took to the crown of my head or the needle to my neck or those Russian shitheads that knocked me senseless.”

Hopper’s breath hitches. Steve curses at himself internally. Remembers the haunted body that pulled him in close when they reconvened. Remembers the frantic calls from Jonathan, of all people, asking what to do when it comes to nightmares—“Not mine,” Jonathan had said, “Hop’s. He just…He just yells.” And even remembers the faint hints Hop gave: the relief in finding a jar of peanut butter, the biting cold, the labor, and the cells. The separation from who he used to be. The loneliness within what he’d gone through, which Steve knows all too well. “Russians?” Hopper softly implores anyway.

And part of Steve knows what he’s doing. The crack to his shell deepening, stretching. But he answers despite it all. Keeps his voice leveled, careful as to not be heard from inside the cabin. “Yeah,” he whispers, the syllables cracking. “Robs and Dustin and I, we all decoded this tape, right? There was Russian speech on it or whatever and I ended up finding the source of the intermission. It was coming from underneath Starcourt. So, y’know how stupid we all are, we went ahead and found these assholes and…Well I—“ He rubs the lip of his beer bottle to his own bottom lip. Eyes glossing over, remembering. “They were going to hurt Robin,” he states, his own voice like gravel, “and Dustin. And little Erica. So I did the stupid thing. Answered their interrogation. They didn’t like the answers; I earned a few punches. Went unconscious. Got hit with some truth serum drug bullshit. Threw up my guts, ended up with a concussion, saw a guy die in front of me, went home and threw up again in the shower, and then I went to bed.”

All at once, the world narrows to just them. Hopper’s completely silent though and Steve doesn’t want to glance over. See the pity written on his sullen, aged face. So he shrugs, takes another swig of his beer, and burps lightly when the carbonation comes up. Nonchalance. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Right, Hop?” Steve pokes quietly. “Throw myself in danger for the people around me. Try to keep them on my good side. Show them I’m worth giving a shit about. Save ‘em. Love ‘em for a bit. Wait until they turn on me or whatever.

“I know you do it, too. So don’t try to lecture me,” Steve mutters, “At least we don’t have to do it again.”

He’s not sure what to really expect to any of that. But he doesn’t think he’d ever expect a firm, heavy arm to wrap around his shoulders. To tug him in close and warm. To hold him gently.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Hopper murmurs.

Steve tries to pull away, but the hand on his opposite bicep squeezes him back. “It’s not your fault, Hop. It’s—“

“You’re a kid, Steve,” he emphasizes. “A kid with a long fucking life ahead of you. And you’ve already seen enough for, well, for lifetimes. You should’a never been in any of this shit, none of you teens should’a. Not just those Russians, Steve. But for everything.”

He doesn’t feel like a kid. Doesn’t really feel like anything, but Hopper doesn’t need to know that right now. Sure, he’d understand. That liminal space after losing his daughter, right after war, before his world quite literally turned upside down—Hopper lived that nothingness for a long while. Maybe he lives it again, Steve isn’t sure.

But he just sighs. “You shouldn’t have been there, either,” Steve murmurs. His face is warm and his eyes sting. And before he really knows what’s happening, he’s crying. Hot tears that sear all the way down to the underside of his jaw. That don’t really produce much noise from him, but he supposes the terrible stuttering in and out is something.

“C’mere, kid,” Hopper mutters.

His beer gets set aside somewhere. Pulled even further in. Head nestled on Hopper’s shoulder, the fresh shave of his beard burning on Steve’s forehead. A hand between his shoulder blades and the other on the back of his head. Steve’s arms sit limp at his sides. But within Hop’s warmth, the musk of aftershave and Irish Spring soap, and his firm and careful hold—Steve finally breaks.

It’s not a catastrophic thing, like he had expected. It’s not all that quiet either.

Shoulders shaking, eyes heavy, and nose burning—Steve cries. Cries with the force of a sudden summer downpour. Heaves giant breaths as if he’s just come up from drowning. And he sobs against the bare skin of Hopper’s neck. Open mouthed. Wet exhales. Big globs of spit sticky between his lips.

When he can finally catch his breath, feel the exhaustion into his bones, he pulls back.

Hopper lays his hands on either side of Steve’s face. His own cheeks wet with tears. Sniffling. “I know, okay? I know, kid,” he says quietly. “You need a home to run to? A shoulder to cry on? You just need a good dad hug? Come over, okay? Steve, you just gotta come over.”

And with that, all Steve can do, is give in.

He cries again into Hopper’s shoulder.

Later, he’ll listen to Hopper in turn. Hug him just as fiercely. Laugh at the absurdity of it all. But this is nice. Just this for a little while longer.

For the first time in his life, though, he feels like he’s got a home to return to. An ear to hear him. And a heart to care about him.

🫂—————🫂 Thank you for the ask, this was an interesting one!

#stranger things #steve harrington #jim hopper #steve harrington & jim hopper #angst and hurt/comfort

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kkaatzchen · 2 days

Text

MerMay Special! : Mer!Gaz x Diver!Soap

Cw/Tags: Smut/nsfw, badly written Scottish accent, trans Soap, mer stuff, possessive Gaz kind of, Gaz has two dicks, eggs/oviposition, they get it on in the water, dubious consent but only because Soap isn’t aware of what he’s getting into, he agrees though, kind of rushed writing, not beta read because I have no beta reader 😔, help I still don’t know how to tag

/// NSFW under cut ///

John was tasked with another dive that day. He’d been inspecting a reef a few miles out from the coast. There’d been a recent chemical spill that affected the habitat, but it had been cleaned up and the reef was beginning to flourish again. Color was returning along with fish and a few mers. Mers had become a regular sighting for the diver, and he was no longer very scared of them as he was at first.

There was one mer that seemed to stick around the reef fairly often, but would dash off when it saw John coming near. The more often he visited, though, the mer realized that he wasn’t a threat and was there to help the reef flourish. It would linger around the reef for a few moments while John did his inspection, then slowly swim off. That morphed into hanging around the entire time John was there. That morphed into John trying to spark up a conversation.

“Name’s Johnny,” he introduced himself. His voice was a bit garbled through the mask he wore under water, but he was at least understandable.

The mer peeked out from a coral fan and blinked once, slowly. “Gaz” the mer replied.

Johnny took his time now to get a good look at the mer. He’d seen it no, him before, but never took the time to really look at him. See if he could determine what fish he was crossed with. Glossy dark skin, a shimmery black tail with white and blue markings in circular patterning, and long dark hair twisted into thick locks and embellished with various shiny things and pieces of coral.

An emperor angelfish. Those markings gave it away.

“I’ve started seein’ ye around often here,” the diver said. “Startin’ to like me?”

“Something like that..” Gaz replied, approaching him a bit more.

“I was wondering’ where all yer friends went off to. They never seem to visit.?”

Fuck. So the diver had noticed that Gaz was now the only mer hanging around the reef.

“Oh.. I guess they must have found a different reef,” the mer suggested, knowing full damn well he chased them off.

—

“If I ever see you around this reef with that diver, you’re good as dead!” He’d growled at the last mer that had stuck around despite his earlier threats. “That’s my fuckin’ human. And it seems to be his favorite reef, so it’s his.”

—

“Ah, could’ve been.” Johnny accepted the answer as truth.

The rest of his inspection of the reef went by smoothly. It was recovering very nicely. The steady conversation with Gaz kept him even longer than usual, and the hour and a half in his air tank had dwindled to only 35 minutes left.

“I best be goin’,” John spoke up. The mer waved him off. “It was nice to finally get to know ya.”

To say Gaz was happy or excited was a sick understatement. He wanted that diver, Johnny he now knew, ever since he caught sight of him. He wanted that human. And he wanted him even more now that spring was here and he would have eggs to deposit.

It was a while after that Johnny visited the reef again. Since it was doing so much better, it didn’t need to be checked on as often. Of course, he saw his new favorite mer there.

“Hey, Gaz,” he greeted. “This is goin to be one of my last times checkin’ in on yer reef..” he said bittersweetly. He was glad the reef was doing so well, but he’d miss his new friend. “I’ll be here two more times, once a month..”

“Oh.”

The wave of disappointment that washed over the mer was I describable. He felt cold. He knew he’d only have a limited time to claim him, then.

“Well then.. I want to show you somewhere special,” Gaz said hopefully.

“A’m probably not supposed t’ drift off with mers on the job,” Jonny joked, “but I’ll agree.”

After his once-over of the reef, John was led by Gaz to a small cove near the shore. John recognized it as not too far from the dock he’d come from for each reef inspection. There was a hollow that opened into a very short cave. Cracks in the top let in a bit of light, but there was a string of solar powered lights inside as well. Johnny briefly wondered if someone had known about this spot and put the light in themself.

“... I decorated it a bit. I hoped you might like it,” Gaz spoke up.

Johnny had lifted himself up into the opening, sitting on a ledge. The space was nicely dry, even now at high tide.

“For me.?” John asked curiously. Gaz nodded after a moment.

“I was maybe hoping… that you’d like to be my human.” The mer admitted.

Johnny was slightly taken aback, but now that he knew Gaz wanted him to be his, it made sense why he’d been the only mer around the reef. The only mer around *him*, Johnny realized.

“It wouldn’t hurt, would it?” The human grinned in reply. Johnny wasn’t the most educated about mers, that was apparent. Not a whole lot of people were, so it wasn’t too surprising. Gaz sure as hell wasn’t going to second guess his acceptance, though.

In John’s head, accepting to be the mer’s human was simply a matter of visiting him often, maybe giving some gifts to convey affection. How wrong he was…

Johnny stopped by the little cove the next day and found Gaz there waiting for him. He smiled at seeing the mer, thinking it was nice of him to stay and wait for Johnny to arrive.

“Hey, Gaz,” he grinned.

“Johnny!” The mer grinned right back, pointed teeth and eyes bright with excitement. Johnny actually came.

The human was in his wetsuit already and slipped down into the water to get into the cove. He sat up on the edge of the rock again, just like last time. Gaz peeked out of the water just between his legs.

“Are you ready to become my human?” The mer asked with a smile.

“Ready as ever,” John replied. Though he wasn’t exactly sure what this meant, he agreed.

Gaz pulled him back down into the water and worked the zipper of his wetsuit down. It seemed like what was happening only just now dawned on the human. His face flushed slightly, not feeling the smartest. It should have been obvious that this was what I was getting into! He thought to himself. Nonetheless, he wasn’t going to back out now.

The water was cold on Johnny’s skin without the wetsuit. It had been discarded onto a dry ledge, thankfully, instead of the water. He looked down to see that two lengths protruded from a small slit on the mer’s front. To say it was intimidating was a drastic understatement for Johnny. He glanced up at Gaz with worry in his eyes, yet his body was reacting in its own way. A warmth built in his abdomen that was quickly generating wetness between his thighs.

“You’ll be okay,” Gaz assured him. The mer had nothing but desire in his gaze as he lined up both of his lengths with Johnny’s entrance and began easing them in.

Johnny’s hands rested on the mer’s shoulders, his nails digging into the skin at the burn of the stretch he was taking. He writhed, trying to get away at the same time he was trying to get closer.

It was a good few minutes of painful stretch and sweet words from the mer to calm him until John was able to take in both cocks to the hilt. He was more than impressed with himself.

“Good fuckin’ god, Gaz.. all mers got two o’ these things..?” Johnny panted, face flushed. Whole body flushed, really.

“Mhm,” Gaz nodded simply. The mer was more than lost in thought. He was trying his best not to wreck the man before him. He had waited for this moment for months now. He was just ready to get this human - his human, his Johnny - full of his eggs.

Gaz tried his best to start out slow for his human. Johnny had to tell him to slow down a few times, though, but he was trying his best regardless.

Meanwhile, Johnny’s thoughts were running wild. The stretch was definitely painful, yes, but it might have been just about the best thing he’d ever felt. And he could tell the mer was trying to be careful even with how eager he was. It wasn’t too long before the pain mellowed out to a dull burn, though. The cool water was soothing that sensation as well.

“Fuck..” John breathed out, lazily rolling his hips down against Gaz. The mer made a peculiar trilling noise and gave a quick thrust into him, eliciting a gasp from John. The pace slowly began picking up. The human was feeling a coil of heat build up in his stomach that seemed ready to snap at any moment.

While the sounds were lovely to Gaz’s ears, he wasn’t focused on Johnny’s noises of pleasure. He was focused on the four eggs that he could give to Johnny and how the human would carry them so well for him.

“Promise to keep comin’ back..?” Gaz murmured hopefully.

“Wouldn’t-… wouldn’t be lettin’ ya-.. do this if I planned.. t’ up an’ leave afterwards..” John replied breathlessly.

Heavily encouraged by this response, Gaz sped up his movements. It wasn’t long before he felt a subtle shifting inside of himself, and knew that it was the four eggs.

John felt another stretch at his entrance, but it passed. Odd, he thought. Maybe he imagined it. But when he felt something press at the barrier of his cervix, he knew he hadn’t imagined it. He gave a wince and a breathy noise of pain, but the thing squeezed past. Johnny’s eyes were wide with concern, but he was oddly aroused and somehow not freaking out about this.

“Gaz-… Gaz, what was that…?” He managed to ask, feeling another brief stretch to his entrance.

Gaz was confused. Didn’t Johnny know what he had agreed to? Wasn’t he aware that this would happen?

“It’s my eggs, you’re taking them. You’re taking them very well, too,” he told the human, praising him as well when the second was deposited.

The human relaxed for some reason, even though that thought didn’t make him feel much better. What was he going to do.? He didn’t know how to take care of mer young. He pushed the thought aside. That could be dealt with later. Now, the coil in his stomach was a second away from snapping.

His core tightened up, causing the third stretch to struggle past. The feeling of it against his walls was intoxicating, and the sensation alone made him forget about all of the complications he was stepping into. His nails dug into the mer’s shoulders again as he felt the egg press hard against his cervix, then push past. That was all he needed.

Johnny’s head lifted back with pleasure, his body tensing up as euphoria washed over him like water. Or maybe that was just his surroundings.

Gaz took this as a good sign, elated that he could make the human react like that. The last egg was pushed past, and suddenly John felt warm substance filling him up. The mer’s release, he figured, still coming down from his orgasm.

John missed the fullness when Gaz finally pulled out, but it was an immediate relief. Even in the water he could tell that a gush of fluid left his core following the mer’s retraction. He shuddered and leaned forward against Gaz’s body.

“Thank you, thank you Johnny,” the mer trilled. “My human now…” he seemed almost comforted by that fact. He hugged John against himself tenderly.

John felt on the verge of sleep, but too awake at the same time. It took him a moment to get himself back together.

Gaz slowly lifted the human up onto the stone ledge. Johnny situated himself, looking over his body. There was no physical evidence that he was carrying the mer’s eggs, but he could feel it.

“You’d better take a second to rest,” Gaz spoke up, breaking Johnny out of his thoughts, “and when you’re alright to get home, rest some more.”

“Yeah… yeah, I’ll do that..”

/// fin. ///

#call of duty #cod #mermay #mermay 2024 #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #special post #gazsoap #smut #trans soap #mer x diver #ovi kink #ovipositor

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whumpbug · 3 days

Note

If you're still doing prompts for your guys...

How about used as bait? Make of that what you will! I would love to learn more about your OCs :D

-- @whumperofworlds

thank you very much for the prompt!!! i must say, i've never really written anything like this but omg. being used as bait/its a trap/kidnapping is truly an underrated trope, at least on this blog

i know i said i wouldn't write hurt/no comfort but HEAR ME OUT. this isnt no comfort. its SUSPENSE. i will most likely be writing a part 2 for this during the whumperless whump event so TRUST ME these boys will get comforted.

also bear with me, writing whumper stuff/situations like this isn't my strong suit and i feel like there are definitely plot holes at certain points.. (-｡-;)

onto the fic!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

This was just Simon’s luck.

He really should be used to getting himself into these situations. This was the second time in only two months that he’d been harassed by Archie’s enemies.

They have just.. never taken it this far before. He’d never been kidnapped before.

Simon was starting to worry. From the way his arms were tied behind him, it was getting hard to take a full breath. He needed to force himself to calm down. Hyperventilating would only make things worse. He needed to analyze the situation at hand.

He was bound to a chair in the middle of a dusty, abandoned warehouse.

Well, at least, he thinks it’s a warehouse.

Truthfully, he’d been blindfolded and gagged since they shoved him into the back of the van and sped away from the city.

He only assumed it was a warehouse from the way the doors sounded as they were being opened and the echo of the chair being dragged toward him. Also, the air around him felt vacant and cold. It smelled of wet cement.

Also, there was the matter of his restraints. Sure, the rope around his wrists were itchy and his back was beginning to ache from the angle he was forced to sit at, but he silently chose to count his blessings.

His captors hadn’t hurt him, save for the initial bonk on the head to subdue him. No, he was relatively unscathed, which was.. odd.

Usually the lackeys tried to beat information about Archie out of him, to no avail of course. He found it strange that no one had come around to yell at him or intimidate him with half-empty threats. In fact, Simon was fairly sure he was completely alone in the building. He hadn’t heard the shuffling and breathing of bodies around him since they first tied him up. The whole situation was abnormal.

Still, he needed to focus on a way out, and therein lies the reason he was beginning to panic. When the guys first knocked him out, they took his phone, wallet, and every accessory he had on him, including the emergency signal bracelet he had to communicate with Archie.

Without it, Archie had no way of knowing where he was or that he was even in trouble. Considering the time of night, Archie would be on patrol. There was at least a chance that he’d get injured enough to pay a visit to Simon’s apartment, but even that could take hours.

Hours Simon wasn’t sure he had.

What game were these guys trying to play?

If they wanted information, they weren’t doing a very good job of getting it. If they wanted to kill him, they surely would have done so already. What was their goal?

Just when Simon was almost sure they had forgotten about him, the sound of a metal door scraping open reverberated throughout the building. He heard slow, deliberate footsteps make their way towards him, and then felt a calloused hand yank off his blindfold. He squinted.

The man bent at the waist to meet Simon’s gaze. “Rise and shine.”

His breath was uncomfortably warm, and if Simon could have told him to give him some personal space, he would have. Instead, he narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, someone doesn’t seem too happy,” The man sing-songed, harshly grabbing Simon by the chin and forcing his gaze up. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet, at least.”

Simon swallowed convulsively against the gag.

“You’re probably wondering what we all plan on doing to you,” He said, motioning to the door off to the side of the building. Simon could only assume that that was where the rest of the men that kidnapped him were.

“Well, patience is a virtue, my friend. I promise that all will be answered. But until then, if you wish to see this through with your life, you’ll have to do a little something for me.” He explained, thumbing saliva away from where it was pooling down Simon’s chin.

He glared. We’ll see about that.

The man pulled out a camera.

“I have a guy on the inside, who will feed whatever I want directly into Vigil’s not-so-secret little broadcast channel. As soon as he knows his precious nurse is in trouble, he’ll come for you right away,” he chirped. “All I need from you is a video proving your wellbeing, just so the brat knows we haven’t killed you yet and knows to tread carefully. You’ll do that, won’t you?”

Simon blinked.

Did he really think he and his 4 other cronies would be able to handle a pissed-off Archie? Simon didn’t notice any of the tell-tale signs that they were hopped up on enhancers, so for all intents and purposes, it was just.. five regular humans against one livid superhuman.

Simon stifled a snort.

If a video was what the man wanted, a video was what he would get! He was practically giving Simon the keys to his freedom!

The man pointed his camera at Simon and grinned.

“All you have to say is that you’re uninjured, and that if he doesn’t come within one hour, that won’t remain the case. Nothing more, nothing less, got it?”

The man reached around Simon’s head and pulled off the gag, to which Simon gasped for air. He shot a glare at him, and saw the camera light flick on. He cleared his throat.

“Oh Vigil. Oh please come save me. I am uninjured and terrified and these men will hurt me if you are not here in one hour. Whatever will I do without my knight in shining armor,” He deadpanned, tone dripping in sarcasm. He hoped Archie would appreciate his joke.

The man scowled and replaced the gag, taking extra care to tie it even tighter, and disappeared into the side room. Simon was alone once again.

God, no one told him being kidnapped would be so boring.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. It could have been three minutes, it could have been thirty, but he felt a pang of relief when he heard a window breaking from outside.

Finally. Things could get moving.

He saw Archie’s blonde hair peeking over the sill of one of the high windows, and a soft smile spread across his face. Not that he had any doubt, but it felt nice to know someone would always come to rescue him.

When Archie pulled himself up and over, landing on the cement floor in a low crouch, Simon saw it.

Resting in the slit of the door he had seen earlier, was the end of a rifle.

It was with a sickening lurch of his stomach that Simon realized this whole thing was a trap.

Looking back, he had no idea how he hadn’t noticed earlier. Why else would they be trying to draw Archie to them?

He saw Archie rear up for a fight. He jerked against the restraints in the chair, but it was no use. Simon tried to scream. He tried to warn him, tell him to turn back and go, but no words would make it past the gag.

He watched as the tranquilizer dart stuck Archie right in the neck.

Archie froze. He locked eyes with Simon as if confirming his worst fears. Simon’s heart sank.

He saw Archie take a step. Then another, this one more unsteady. Finally, Archie’s eyes rolled back in his head and his knees buckled as he dropped into a heap on the cold floor.

When Simon saw the captors approach his body with boxes of medical instruments, he could only be silently grateful that Archie wasn’t awake to see the size of the needles.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

#this was fun!!! but also hard to write #i didnt realize how many things you had to keep track of in a kidnapping scene #the next part will be more focused on the whump and less about the situation so stay tuned for that ;)#whump #whumpblr #prompt fill #kidnapping tw #whump fic #whumper #whumpee #simon and archie

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joobywooby · 2 days

Note

HI hi! I saw you wanted XH suggestions and omg I'm honestly dying for two things and feel free to do either, both, or none!

A fluff of Jooyeon being cute and silly with you when you were down and depressed, and eventually it ends in bed cuddles and sweet kisses~

Ooorrr...

A O.de smut where Seungmin was so frustrated with work, you offer to listen to him but things end up spicy between you and him, especially after you offer for him to take his frustrations out on you...

a/n: Hi again honey! I do plan on writing the Jooyeon prompt for this ask but rest assured I'll be writing the seungmin on probably on Monday for you too! Thank you so much for checking up on me the other day too and I hope you like this <3 Love you so much! also I kinda changed a few things, so this one isn't really that silly, but I hope this comfort fic makes you happy when you read it.

taglist: @mon2sunjinsuver

Turn that frown upside down

Fluff, slight angst, comfort

Lee Jooyeon x Reader

A Jar of pickles. Something as simple as that was all it took for the dam to break.

This week had been especially tough. Normally, you could handle it, leaving all of the stress at work to help settle your nerves, but this time, nothing seemed to be going right. You had failed to meet your deadlines due to trying to juggle too many things at once,while also trying to get in even just a few hours of sleeping before getting up to repeat the cycle all over again.

However, you'd been trying everything and anything to hide how exhausted you were from Jooyeon. You knew he had been working overtime,too, as well as endless shows and schedules that had him falling into bed into instant sleep before he could even get into his pyjamas.

So, when the two of you finally had a mutual day off, you were bound and determined to find something to do to take your mind off of the constant stressors. So, you decided to make a snack tray, filling it up with all of the things the both of you loved before settling down to start a show the both of you had added to your watch later list.

Reaching into the cabinet for the unopened jar of mini pickles, your elbow bumps into it, resulting in the jar falling off of the shelf, glass and the contents of the container spilling into the floor anywhere it could reach. Out of pure frustration and instincts, you can't help but tear up, cheeks heating up and hands going to hide your face as you lose it, kneeling on the floor and releasing all of your pent up emotions.

You're so lost in your head you jump upon feeling a warm palm at the small of your back, helping you up off of the floor. "Baby what happened? Are you hurt? Here let me look at your knees", Jooyeon is so gentle, genuine concern in his eyes and his voice as he examines your legs, checking for any cuts of scrapes from the shattered glass.

"I-i'm okay. Just, just dropped something in the floor", you sniffle, wiping your eyes and your nose, avoiding his gaze. "Then why are you crying so hard,babe? Talk to me", his lips graze your forehead, holding you close to him as he waited for you to be ready.

"I've just been under so much stress at work, and nothing's been going well, at all. I just didn't want to worry you with my problems because I know you've been working so much and it's not fair", your voice is small, and he feels his heart break at your words.

"My love, It doesn't matter how stressed and tired I am from work. I'll never push your problems aside because I love you, I'm always here, okay? I'm not going anywhere anytime soon either. Turn that frown upside down,okay?", he giggles, pressing a kiss to both of your cheeks before reach down, grabbing you by the backs of your thighs before lifting you up into his arms, carrying you sweetly and gently to your shared bedroom, lips never leaving yours. The mess can always be cleaned up later, he had more important things to tend to.

#xdinary heroes #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes x reader #Lee Jooyeon #Jooyeon #xdinary heroes Jooyeon #xdinary heroes fluff #xdh fluff #Jooyeon x reader #Xdh imagines #xdinary heroes imagines #xdh fic #xdinary heroes fic #Lee jooyeon fluff

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mattodore · 4 months

Text

pay attention to theo’s beautiful face and not whatever matthias’s arm is doing... i liked the lighting more here than against the wall

#these are the last screenshots i wanted to edit from the ones i took on the 22nd and had been slowly editing throughout the week #will finally be putting mattodore in their thirties to rest 🙏⚰️#river dipping #echthroi #matthias evanoff #theodore doe #a burning house to live in #ts4 #ts4 edit #simblr #ended up not doing much to these screenshots tbh… i was so into the audiobook i was listening to i kinda just. stared at the wall a lot...#my brain was telling me this wasn’t worth posting bc i’ve done so many mattodore edits recently and this isn’t anything different but.#like i did actually spend a few hours with these edits so. on one hand i’m like this isn’t really anything #but on the other hand i’m like. well they’re my ocs whom i love dearly and i’ll probably enjoy looking back at this #the same way i do all my other recent edits which i open my own blog up to stare at like. multiple times in a day #obsessed atm……..#anyway.#god… matthias is so huge he always takes up so much space i’m constantly having to crop him out of edits 😭#and these are poses that weren’t even made from me…. so he’s not even at his full 6’3’’ height and size like 😭😭😭#he distracted me but that aside... i'm waiting for my game to open up atm so i can get back to tweaking alessandria's sim #her face is gonna take me forever.................................#ik i don't talk about my other ocs on here much anymore but alessandria is my third favorite oc (mattodore obviously being my top two)#so... i'm seriously gonna agonize over every update i make for them now kjdhknjf #ocs with tragic backstories save me...................#i’ll probably spend a few hours with alessandria in cas and then i’m going back to google docs to write more abt mattodore

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rue-bennett · 2 years

Note

Hey! Can you explain to me the dwd drama?? I see everyone talking about it but no one says what happened i dont get it

Here is my attempt, buckle in and get worried, darling:

Olivia’s directing the movie starring Florence & Harry (whose role originally went to Shia LaBeouf, but more on that later), which filmed from October 2020 to February 2021. Olivia was engaged to Jason Sudeikis but their relationship officially ended in November 2020. Olivia and Harry met on set and started officially dating in January 2021. Officially. So, all along there’s been intense scrutiny of Olivia from Harry stans who are convinced they’re gonna date him or he’s gay or no woman is good enough for him or whatever reason they have to vilify her (because they can’t handle that he’s not their little puppet doll). Not to say she didn’t do shit. Let’s get into that soon!

(So yeah. The relationship timeline is sketch. Personally, I don’t really give a shit about strangers ~allegedly~ cheating on each other, it’s not my business, Jason isn’t exactly a sweetheart even if he’s currently America’s Sweetheart because he plays one on tv. Relationships break up, lots of directors fuck stars, it’s definitely juicy but it’s not that noteworthy if it weren’t for the star power involved. Also, in summer 2022 Jason had custody papers served to Olivia *while she was onstage* promoting DWD at CinemaCon. That was a week! However, I’d also like to not that Flo is close with Jason, so it’s not like she’s a neutral party either. She was still very much in a serious relationship with Zach Braff at the time and Zach & Jason are besties. So. There is that!)

Back to during filming, Shia was fired for clashing on set with the cast and crew (namely Florence) and it was widely reported back in 2021 during filming and then brought up in the press a week or two ago that Olivia fired him because she wanted to make her set a safe space for women or whatever, and with Shia’s history of abusing women and anyone really, makes sense, right? Well. Shia’s apology tour is currently happening where he’s clearing the air/making shit up/what’s to be expected from that fucko, who I don’t trust (he recently admitted his movie Honey Boy, which is autobiographical and about how Shia’s real life dad abused him, was completely made up to make Shia seem more likable and that his dad never touched him) and the timing was convenient. However. He did have a video that Olivia sent to him, basically begging for him to come back to DWD and saying she didn’t want to give up if he didn’t (alleging that he quit, he wasn’t fired) and spoke condescendingly about Florence, talking about how if Shia and “MISS FLO” (the attitude with how she said it fjsjcjd) could work things out she’d love to have him back. Anyway, Harry was cast in the role and Olivia and him have been dating for a while, so good-ish for them I guess.

There are intense rumors about Olivia being unprofessional on set/sneaking off with Harry/Florence generally being unhappy on set is the big thing. There are rumors she was gone for so long that Flo had to step in and tell crew what to do, but I highly it was that extreme. There is at least one assistant director always there, and things can be dramatic and bad without being like ludicrous. But people will insist on making things up because they sound good/bad! Regardless—twas bad! (There’s also the whole female director takedown conversation but…)

And Flo has made it really almost obnoxiously but also hilariously obvious that she doesn’t like Olivia or want to promote the movie—she’s THE LEAD but she’s done very little press and barely even promotes it on Instagram. And btw, a certain amount of press (usually a large amount!) is written into the contracts that actors sign when they sign onto movies. It’s not a casual thing that she missed the Venice Film Festival press conference for the movie SHE STARS IN at its WORLD PREMIERE.

A quick note about the promotion—Olivia has been promoting it…a lot. And in a way that really rubs a lot of people the wrong way. It’s definitely being painted by her as super feminist, a female orgasm movie where men don’t cum (yes, she literally said that). Then Florence said how “When it’s reduced to your sex scenes, or to watch the most famous man in the world go down on someone, it’s not why we do it,” and didn’t mention Olivia AT ALL. And with the major marketing just being around Harry eating Flo out when there’s a whole movie around that scene presumably…kinda fucked up.

When she was gallivanting around in her purple suit with her granny lol, not on a delayed flight nor Really having to rush back for Dune 2. (Yes, she and Timmy likely have different shooting schedules, but let’s be honest, he’s been lazying around Italy like Elio in Call Me By Your Name, she could’ve gotten a full day off if she’d wanted it.) It was a huge fuck you to Olivia and Harry, she’s allegedly been really annoyed that their relationship has taken all the attention away from the film and from her acting (which I’ve heard is great in this movie) and it’s just a fucking mess.

And I’m crying because it’s not even over yet.

Flo went to the red carpet and premiere screening for DWD. They were all separated from each other and it is sooooo obvious and messy. And let me say…it’s not normal for a lead actor (Florence) to not even stand or sit next to their director. The Harry part isn’t as weird because they were trying for once to cool their relationship and not make the headlines about that. Instead! Just about the Flo & Olivia beef.

(Btw. The Harry-Chris Pine spitting thing btw isn’t real. It’s funny and people ran with it, but there is no spit. There’s multiple angles of it, and no. Chris found his sunglasses in his lap + thought Harry & Olivia would talk but didn’t. Harry didn’t spit on him. Funny thought though! Fun reaction meme out of it though!)

I think some of it is definitely blown up for the tabloids to get as many people to see the movie as possible because bad press, good press, any press, etc. and things (like the spit rumor) run way out of control on social media. I also think we don’t know Everything yet and maybe never will. But anyways! There goes my sanity! Worry, darling!

#celeb talk #don’t worry darling #asks #anonymous #i’m fact checking oh my g od #this isnt even all of it probably but i’m going insane #this took me like a half hour #hope this clears it up a bit?#also after writing this now i hate everyone fjsjfdjd they’re so annoying #chris pine #harry styles #florence pugh #olivia wilde #don’t worry drama #1k

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amoneki-ramblings · 5 months

Note

this is a pass to do a couple things:

finish the manga!!! u can do it so u can follow all the other blogs without getting blindsided by a spoiler

do the ship ask thingy for amoneki :]

Gahh I'm trying !! I'm so busy with school and life stuff so it's hard to squeeze in time to read but I'm trying! I'm getting through volumes very slowly but hey, I'll get there ! Just. Well. There's 16 volumes so. Okay it might take a bit orz

For now I'll just be in my little fandom limbo corner I suppose orz, as for the ask thingy:

when I started shipping it if I did: Several months ago, probably a few months short of a year? It's a bit complicated, Basically I decided to rewatch the anime (because my original exposure to tg was. the anime :') ) and vaguely remembered that I really liked Amon (honestly the encounter at Kanou's Lab/Cochlea was one of the scenes I remembered the most), and after rewatching and seeing Amon and Kaneki's interactions they piqued my interest again. Then I got into the manga and. Yeah that interest turned into insanity and now i'm here

my thoughts: Well I have a 119-slide 15K+-word google slideshow for starters. But I'm taking that to my grave so I guess I gotta condense that somehow. On one hand I feel like everything needs to be said about these two to the point that there's too much to talk about but also nothing needs to be said at the same time. They parallel each other in just about every way possible, it's impossible to ignore the ways that they foil each other. They also have had irreversible effects on the others' character. Kaneki finds resolve in Amon's words ('the world is wrong'), and turns to them at pivotal moments (when he leaves Anteiku, Kaneki's own mantra is also basically a derivative of Amon's, wishing to take out the "bad/wrong" things in the world, and he basically takes them to his grave, "The world is wrong", Amon's own words, being his opening to his final dialogue in the last chapter of the original series)

Similarily Amon is just haunted by Kaneki. Like. In general. He thinks about him constantly (even under more mundane circumstances, in the novels he gets reminded of Kaneki just by staring out a window because it reminded him of the Aogiri raid. lmao). Kaneki is basically the catalyst to his character development, and Amon is constantly bothered by his presence/existence, and even comes to recognize how they always encounter each other at important moments. Amon is so haunted by This Guy (creature) it's both a little funny but also makes me very insane. He's basically being a failure of a ghoul investigator, and it's even more ironic, given his hatred of himself for being raised by and potentially caring about a ghoul (also he's catholic, something something religious guilt), yet he seems to have a lot of faith in Kaneki, even to a faulty degree (I'd daresay it's almost to the point where he puts Kaneki on a bit of a pedestal/idolizes him to an extent. I have a whole other ramble about Just that on the self-rb'ed half of this post. Like I'm sorry but Amon definitely fell hard for this guy I'll die on this hill and I'm going to poke fun at him endlessly for it, he could've done so much better, he starts off the manga hating ghouls with a passion and his mentor's disdain for ghouls runs ten times as deep but nope now he's chasing after the dangerous somewhat unhinged (/affectionate) half kakuja guy and it's not even to fight/kill him like okay, sure.) They have affected each other in irreversible ways. They reflect each other so much even if they don't know it. They just want to sit down and have a conversation. They didn't get to. And instead They Killed Each Other (okay not really but it was very close and they absolutely could, not that they want that) ((It's also partially Kaneki's fault for losing control of himself and he feels awful for that (sidenote but any scenario with Centineki and Amon make me lose my mind))). They're also married by first-encounter marriage bite, apparently. I think we should talk about that more that's kinda?? Donato approves btw

What makes me happy about them: Everything that makes me miserable about them makes me simultaneously happy about them because I am an Angst Guy but honestly just how much they clearly respect each other. While they're not allowed to understand each other because of their circumstances they still very much Want to. They recognize that they probably share a lot of views and could really have a meaningful conversation with each other, and it really shows, even if they're fighting. Amon again has a surprising amount of trust in Kaneki (not assuming he's fighting for Aogiri when he saw him during the ward 11 battle, having faith in Kaneki as a person even if he just saw him potentially killing his superior and being presented with the possibility that maybe he was just being fooled all along, when he's nearly dying at Kaneki's own hands but says he won't die because that would make Kaneki a murderer, having faith still that he hasn't turned into one). They recognize that they're equals (well technically they're not, obviously Kaneki is much stronger objectively, being a ghoul, and a kakuja at that), but they treat each other as equals and that's what really matters. I just think it's a very neat dynamic and their roundabout way of caring about each other despite their positions makes me happy :)

What makes me sad about them: I was gonna put images but then I quickly realized that I'd basically be pasting almost all of chapter 133-134 just uh. The fact that Kaneki really lost control of himself and the parallel with him biting Amon's shoulder escalates to him cutting off his entire fucking arm, the way that Amon's first thought in regards to that is simply that Kaneki is strong, how he doesn't reprimand him for it whatsoever (also Amon's blow pretty much takes out the entire area of where Kaneki's kakuhou should be, which is a detail I find Extremely Interesting and I think it should genuinely be talked about more). This fucking line that happened literally the panel before all of that despite their mutual wishes for the other to simply Not Die:

Amoneki divorce. Absolutely life ruining :thumbsup:

(Also just. Again Amon Please. This guy bit your shoulder (probably gave Amon rabies honestly) and almost ate one of your colleagues; when he loses control of himself for the second time you just tell him to take a break, and now he's cut off your whole damn arm and you're Still not complaining and are instead praising him by calling him strong. I just. Yeah that's Not Normal. It's kind of impressive, really /derogatory)

Oh yeah also the fight at Kanou's lab also kills me and takes over my brain constantly but I wouldn't classify that as making me sad I would classify that as making me lose my mind, laugh hysterically and start climbing up and clawing at the walls (like Centineki, actually)

things done in fanfic that annoys me: Maybe I'm just extremely picky but I feel like people tend to fumble Amon's characterization a lot. It's kind of a fine line, and Amon has a lot of conflicting feelings as is, so I get it, but I'm especially bothered when Amon is written as way too harsh. When he's first introduced he has a strong hatred for ghouls, and it's not like that just goes away, but when he's written as especially harsh or even cruel towards Kaneki, especially if it's just because for him being a ghoul it feels like it kind of defeats the point, as Kaneki is supposed to be the reason why Amon starts changing his mind. When Amon sees him for the second time he doesn't think about fighting him at all, even that early on he decides he wants to talk instead, 'cause He's Different. I don't see this kind of characterization too often but I don't really vibe with it at all when I do (Also this is definitely just a me-thing but I wish there was more angst in the tag. Which is ironic considering these guys are surprisingly normal most of the time and have so much potential to be actually Happy but uh *vague hand gestures*, hurt-comfort would also be a decent compromise)

things I look for in fanfic: I love pre-:re fics that explore the complicated-ness of their dynamic. I'm really fond of fics where they kind of dance around each other in a sense, they won't just straight up completely directly interact because that's Still a bit dangerous but they see each other in passing, maybe Kaneki watches over Amon sometimes, etc. Also you probably saw this coming a mile away but yeah religious references mean instant bonus points from me. I could go into some (too much) detail but. uh. stares down at my feet look I'm normal I swear

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Saying Amonhaise is definitely cheating but I'm not really invested in any other Amon ships. I'm not particularly against any I'm just neutral. As for Kaneki, like I mentioned in a previous post, I see potential with Etoken, and it's pretty hard to go wrong with Hidekane, though neither drive me to insanity like these two do at the moment

My happily ever after for them: Let them finally officiate their marriage ghsfdljbhf

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Well that's pretty easy huh. Kaneki small spoon he is a Little Guy just let him feel comfortable and secure y'know? Kaneki is probably someone who runs very cold and Amon is very warm so it works out :) If he's super tired he very carefully (and cautiously) wraps his kagune around Amon he will now be Trapped there until Kaneki wants to get out of bed (good luck)

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Well I would say that Kaneki loves cooking for Amon probably. He makes food at home and tries to make new sweets following recipe books. It's a bit of a mess because y'know, he's a ghoul, and at first Amon tries to hide that, unfortunately, his previous experience with cooking does Not, in fact, hide the fact that he cannot taste or smell human food, but eventually Kaneki is able to get a hang of it (with Amon's help) and it's very nice :) That's what I would say but. well. Amon is Also a Ghoul now so that doesn't really work :')

#asks #ipsen #tokyo ghoul #tg #amon koutarou #kaneki ken #koutarou amon #ken kaneki #amoneki #amoneki ramblings #so. it took me like 3 hours to write this. it's approaching 1:30 am i have school tomorrow man orz (worth it)#anyways um yeah i'm normal definitely i think #ha ha. hghsdljfbhsdflhbfldbhsdfoubhserb #i. don't run this through a word counter i talk a lot (too much)#h. aha. haha 1.5k+ word response?? i have no idea what you're talking about #i don't think there's anything that needs to be elaborated on but uh #if there's something i mentioned that you want more details on i'll probably end up having another 1-500 word response for it #tomorrow though i need to go to sleep holy shit #most sane amoneki fan right here (definitely not lying) :))#they're just neat. i think #i got another ship ask for amoneki but obviously i just answered that. maybe i'll answer it with amonhaise instead?? we'll see :3c #thank you for indulging in the madness i had fun (i need to be Stopped)

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