Nobody Deserve.

I was looking in "study" hashtag and omg YOU GUYS HAVE A SUCH PRETTY HANDWRITING! Everything is so organized and you can understand what was written without problems... I guess I'm a little jealous haha

But you all are doing a such good job. I don't know anyone, but I'm proud of each one of you.

Keep going, you doing great!

local troublemaker has been declared a daughter by flying cowboy

Poor Steven 😭

Oh, reader caring for him melts my heart and Marc content and calm 😭🥰

Neighbors and Nightmares

Steven Grant x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1k

Prompt: pulling your lover into your arms, kissing their cheek as you comfort them (requested by anon for my 3k follower celebration!)

Warnings: fluff, neighbor!reader, mention of nightmares, hurt/comfort, kisses, sweetness, pining, brief appearance by Marc too

Notes: Even though this fic is not explicit, my blog still is so please do not read or interact if you are under 18 thank you. Thanks so much for the request anon, I loved this prompt so much!! And it works so well with Steven cause he deserves the world!! I have an update only blog too to stay up to date on when I post @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

A pained scream woke you up from a peaceful dream and immediately you were on high alert. Without hesitation, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door as another scream echoed against the wall you shared with your neighbor, Steven Grant. This wasn’t the first time you’d woken up to the sounds of his agony while he slept, but this time seemed more urgent than before. Quickly, you grabbed your keyring, which included the spare key he gave you, and bolted out the door.

“Steven?!” you pounded at his door first. Dread filled your mind as you heard him yell and thrash around inside, “Steven, I’m coming in!” you called through the door as you slid the key in with shaky hands.

Continuar lendo

Not gonna lie, I'm a bit upset with y/n. C'mon, Steve drove to see y/n and y/n wouldn't leave her friends for one night? Okay, her life doesn't involve around Steve, but I think maybe she is being not a very good friend 😭😭

Why do I have a sentiment that I will cry in the next chapters?

timing's a bitch (s.h) - 2/5

n e w y e a r s '8 6

"if i just wanted someone to hold then really anyone would do, i close my eyes and really try not to turn them into you" no use i just do, hayley williams (x)

"if you have chemistry, you only need one other thing...timing. but timing is a bitch" - how i met your mother

a.k.a the four times that steve harrington chose the wrong moment and one time he got it right (series masterlist)

warnings: mentions of underage drinking (all characters are 18+ but this is set in america lol) & also very minor references to smut

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on this series!! also massive apologies for the delay, i had massive writers' block and work was wiping me out :') still, i hope you enjoy. only three more wrong moments to go. - jazz

Steve Harrington hadn’t expected to spend New Years’ Eve of 1986 in a nightclub in Manhattan. 

To be honest, he hadn’t even expected to be here. 

Neither had you. And you didn’t even know of his whereabouts yet.

He’d been…lonely, after Christmas. Actually, he’d been lonely since the moment you left. Steve had known Hawkins before you and he’d known Hawkins with you but he had never prepared himself for Hawkins without you. Even when you called everyday and wrote letters every other week, there was still a gaping, you-sized hole in his life. Pictures of you hung up around his room; Polaroids and photo booth strips that dated back to the late seventies; records you’d brought him and drawn him; the silly, dumb notes you used to pass to each other in class. It wasn’t until you left that Steve realised his entire life was basically a shrine to you. 

Christmas was great. Seeing you was great. It had been nothing but hugs and smiles and warmth for a week straight. The celebrations came and went and before he knew it, Steve was dropping you off the airport and hugging you goodbye. It stung a little less this time, know that he knew what to expect in the aftermath, but coming back to an empty house had killed him inside. 

So, Steve started driving. And he kept driving until he reached the night club that he knew you’d be at. Even though it took him twelve fucking hours and fifty goddamn bucks on the door because he wasn’t old enough to be in here and especially not to be drinking. It left him wondering how much you’d paid to get in. Probably not a lot - even back in Hawkins, most bouncers just let you in. Why wouldn’t they? Maybe you were a bit haywire and crazy around the edges but you were also beautiful. One look at your smile, and the way you flashed your eyes with a stupid joke? You could get in anywhere. Steve Harrington was convinced that you were insane enough to open any door in the world. And yet, you stayed at the Hideaway. Every other Friday, with him and a pint of whatever shitty beer they had going. Because even though you get into any club in town, Steve was limited to wherever the fuck Eddie Munson could sneak him in. You’d never been one to stray away from Steve’s side. 

So…yeah. Coming here had been unexpected and god, Steve hated clubbing. What was the point of a room of sweaty people and loud music? That was all he could think about as people thudded into him, one by one in time to a fucked up remix of a Queen song. He just needed to find you and then get the fuck out of here. He had nothing planned in terms of a speech, or even the faintest idea of what he was going to say. He just wanted to see you. That was all. 

“Hey, man! What where the fuck you’re going!”

A sharp elbow came into contact with Steve’s ribs, and he turned around to see you. There was a scowl on face, then a look of disbelief, and before he knew it, you’d almost tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Steve hit the ground with an oof, breaking your fall with his own body. “I just missed you.”

You grinned. “I missed you too. How did you even know where I’d be?”

“You mentioned this club a few times last week. Sorry for just turning up-”

“- never apologise,” you cut him off. Stumbling up, you shoved aside a few dancers and stuck out your hand to help him up. “I’m happy to see you.”

You pulled Steve into another hug, hands balling up into the back of his shirt as you did. Steve had always given the best hugs. For as long as you could remember, all your problems could be fixed with a hug from him. Bad grades, shitty boys, fights with your parents. They were all menial, but even now, after a few months in the big city, you were certain they could fix bigger ones too. 

“C’mon, Steve,” you took his hand in yours. “Let’s talk properly outside. Yelling over this music is gonna kill me.”

Keeping his hand in yours, you pulled Steve across the club and towards the smoking area on the other side. It was amazing, really, the way you could just shove people aside with your elbows and a glare. You’d put the fear of God and/or yourself into him multiple times, so Steve couldn’t be surprised. 

The smoking area wasn’t as busy as the rest of the club. There were a few stragglers standing around - some with tobacco, some smoking something a little stronger. On the other side, a drunk girl was throwing up. You didn’t seem phased at all. Maybe you came to places like this often. Even though Steve had never known you to enjoy big crowds or loud music. 

“So, what do you wanna do?” Steve asked. “I saw a couple pizza places down the road. Maybe we could grab some food and then watch the ball drop, if you have a television-”

“- what do you mean?” you frowned. “I was gonna stay here. There’ll be a massive countdown and drinks and all my friends are inside.”

“Seriously?” he scoffed (however unintentionally). “I didn’t know you liked clubbing.”

Your face fell. “Don’t be an ass, Steve. Y’know I hate when you’re an ass.”

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. “I guess I don’t know what you enjoy doing at college. I forget it’s a different scene to Hawkins.”

“Hey, you’re good,” you smiled. “I’m just glad you’re here, okay?”

“Me too,” he returned the gesture, before glancing around the place. “So, what do you do here? Just…drink and dance?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you shrugged. “It definitely looks awful from the outside but I promise my friends are fun. They’ve heard all about you and I’m sure you’ll love them.”

Friends. He’d heard about all your new friends; Jessica and Amanda and Tiffany and Daniel and…there were too many to remember. Steve knew that he was still your best, best friend, but it was nice to see you flourishing. It was clear they all loved you from the way their faces lit up. They gave Steve a smile too, and a it’s so nice to meet you! or a I’ve heard so much about you! 

Still though, clubbing certainly wasn’t his thing. He hadn’t expected it to be your thing either, but from the way you were throwing back shots and dancing around with your new friends, it was clear that it was. You’d shoot him a smile every few minutes, or grab him for a silly dance. All attempts to make him feel included. It wasn’t your fault that Steve had so quickly gone from excitement in seeing you to feeling like he was a sore limb. No one was doing anything to make him feel like that. Nobody but him, of course. 

It wasn’t until you approached the bar just before midnight that Steve followed you.

“Hey!” you gave him a bright smile. “Are you having fun?”

“I’m not not having fun,” he grimaced, but took your hands in his. “Look, I’m really tired and I just drove twelve hours without stopping and I really want to spend time with you tomorrow, okay? So I think I’m gonna head tonight, if you’re okay with me breaking into your apartment and crashing in your bed.”

“Oh, yeah,” your face fell a little, but you still forced a smile. “No, I get it. Take my keys, yeah? It’s the apartment building with red front door on the corner of 5th and 73rd. Apartment 48. My room is the first on the left and-”

“- it’s okay, I’ll find it,” Steve cut you off. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and gave your hands one last squeeze. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year, Steve Harrington.”

Even though Steve had only had two pints of Budlight, he hadn’t considered that his alcohol tolerance was basically on the fucking floor. So, no driving for him. Just an obscenely overpriced yellow cab to take him a few blocks west. The streets of Manhattan weren’t exactly confusing, and maybe it was just dumb luck that your key fit into the first red door he found. Four floors up and two more doors in and that luck continued, right until he found himself managing to stumble into what he hoped and prayed was your apartment. 

It was a cozy little place that you’d rented from one of your parents’ friends. He worked in real estate in the city and quite honestly, you’d thanked your lucky fucking stars when you heard the words subsidized and rent. Maybe it was a little bare, but you’d made it your own. Steve couldn’t help but smile to himself at all the pictures of him around the room. 

Your room was just as cozy. Maybe it was a little funny that Steve’s head hit the pillow just as the fireworks outside went off - then he felt a bit bad. Had he ditched you? Maybe. But he had driven twelve hours just to unintentionally surprise you and he deserved rest. Even if you hadn’t asked that of him, even less expected it of him. Maybe he was just a little disappointed that you hadn’t wanted to spend New Years Eve sat in a pizza place with him. That was what you had done the year before. 

He fell asleep easily, the traffic outside becoming white noise. It wasn’t until a couple hours later - just gone 3AM, according to the clock on your bedside table - that you came crashing and stumbling in. Steve was woken by the sound of your shoes hitting the floor with a thud, and then a little fuck! as you stumbled out of your clothes and into a big NYU t-shirt. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Steve suddenly sat up, barely catching you as you fell to the ground. “Why don’t you turn on the lights, genius?”

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you muttered. Were you mad? You seemed mad. 

“Hey,” he frowned. “What’s up?”

“Nothing-”

“- we both know what when you say nothing that it’s definitely not nothing,” he reminded you. “Are you gonna spit it out or am I gonna have to go through every single thing I did and said tonight before we find an answer?”

You scowled at him, knowing he was right. Steve didn’t have fifteen years of riding the fiery dragon that was your personality not to know how to humble you. 

“You said you missed me and that you came to see,” you muttered, folding your arms across your chest. 

“...and that’s why you’re mad?”

“No!” you snapped. “I’m mad because you stayed for like…all of five minutes and then left! You didn’t even try to talk to my friends or to even stay and then I had to spend the last two hours defending you whenever they pointed it out!”

“Pointed what out?!”

“That you left! That you barely spoke to them or to me-”

“- I’m sorry that clubbing isn’t my thing!” Steve cut you off, barely hiding his audible groan. “I left so you could have fun with your new friends, okay? I didn’t wanna kill the mood.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “You weren’t killing the mood. Why do you have to say things like that?”

“Because it’s true!” he huffed. “You have a life here and friends and…things have changed. And I think I’ve been left behind.”

“How?!” you demanded. “How have I left you behind?! Because I went clubbing for one fucking night instead of dropping my plans when you turned up out of the blue?!”

“Because you said that things wouldn’t change! And they have!”

“Of course things are going to change!” you yelled. “We’re growing up! I’m at college, you’re working full time! Life fucking changes, Steve!”

“What if it changes and you forget about me?”

“Oh my god,” you let out another groan. “Steve, my life does not revolve around you. I love you and you are my best friend but can’t you just appreciate what we have right now rather than worrying about what we might be?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, but you kept going instead. 

“Maybe we won’t be friends in five years. Maybe we’ll be married with kids in ten or sharing a fucking grave in eighty but none of that matters if you just can’t appreciate what we are right now,” you continued. “Two people who love each other and-”

“- you think about us getting married?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You literally just said it.”

“It was hypothetical-”

“- but you still said it-”

“- I also said that we might not be friends! Do you wanna bet which one is more likely to happen at the rate you’re going?”

You gave him a light thump to the chest. Steve caught your hand as it collided with him, large fingers holding your wrist. Your breath caught in your throat as he did, gaze catching his. The tension in the room had already been thick but in that moment, you couldn’t have cut it with a knife. He kept his grip on your hand, both your chests heaving with anger and frustration and rage and-

The first time you had kissed, it had been gentle. Experimental and a little toothy and maybe hungry after years and years of unpent teenage horniness, but whatever tension had built in the last three months alone made all those years look like nothing. This was desperate and deep, hands all over the other. Steve kept his palms splayed on your back, then on your neck, then on your ass, each time gripping you so tight, clinging onto you as though you might slip away if he didn’t. 

You fell back on the bed, one hand tangled in his hair and the other gripping his shirt. It was hard to register when exactly he took it off. Actually, when yours came off too, for that matter. Steve Harrington, as it turned out, was a man who consumed all your fucking senses all the fucking time. Ergo, it was hard to think about anything other than him, or what his hands were doing, or that you were finally about to go all the way with your best friend of fifteen years. 

It sort of clicked in your mind at some point that you probably should have stopped. It also registered in his mind. Still, neither of you did anything about it. You’d come this far now and it was hard to stop. Any consequences would be tomorrow’s problem. 

Happy New Year. 

taglist: @yaskna @karasong @etherealforever234 @i-bitch-you-bitch @aphex2winn @raes-gay @handsupforamiracle @palmtreesx3 @lokiofasgard616 @notahappystan @we-out-here-simping @angel-jz @suniloli @mapleransom-blog @thexplosivegirl @lou-la-lou

So, I did finish the season 2 yesterday, I cried so much in this scene and my sad brain said "hey, why don't we read some stuff about Lee?" And I said "Okay! What can go wrong?" Well, now I'm crying. Again!

Another Life, Another Adventure

Pairing: Lee Scoresby x reader

Warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!!! Language, angst, violence, too many flashbacks, suggestive material, fluff (shockingly) hurt/sad shit, and buckle your seatbelts because this shit is a rollercoaster that just goes DOWN!

Ahaha, we are coping this way, 3.2k words baby. I’ve never written a story so fast! But yeah, lemme know if you want to be tagged! PLEASE give feedback, it’s greatly appreciated and I need assurance that my writing isn’t shit because I’m desperate. So….anyway, good luck? Because yall already know where this is heading, but I’m not going to put it in the warnings because ya know, SPOILERS?

There was no point in arguing, not with the magisterium on their tail, not with Lee’s injured foot, and not with Lyra in need of safety. Jopari even tried countering, insisting that there had to be another way. Y/N couldn’t say that she disagreed. After all the blinding chaos they’ve escaped, there had to be another way around this. 

“I’ve made my choice,” Lee huffed, giving a stern look at Jopari. “You’re it. Now find the bearer.”

Y/N and the shaman shared a look. They both knew of the promise he made with Lee, and they both knew how important it was for Lyra to be protected. 

“You’re a good man.”

“Just remember your promise. I love that little girl like a daughter.” Lee fumbled with his shotgun, loading the bullets and talking fast. 

“I remember. You have my word. I’ll make sure she’s protected by the knife.” 

“That’s all I need to know…” He stuck his hand out and firmly shook Jopari’s hand, both nodding, both knowing of the rough journey ahead. As the shaman stood up, he hesitated and it caused Lee to look up at him before looking at her with a raised brow. 

Y/N took a deep inhale before nodding for him to go along. 

Continuar lendo

Perfect

Tattoo your name

A/N: A short idea that came to me while I was getting my first tattoo today, I wrote this in an hour so I apologies in advance for any mistakes.

Pairings: Jake Lockley x fem!reader, Marc Spector x fem!reader, Steven Grant x fem!reader, they all are married

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff and mention of sex

Summary: Y/N came home in pain. 

Words Count: 1700+

MASTERLIST

Y/N entered the flat and smiled immediately when she heard footsteps. Marc walked up to her and kissed her cheek. 

“Hi, baby,” he greeted, helping her pull off her clothes. Y/N put everything back on the cupboard and caught Marc's face in her hands. “Fucking hell, your hands are cold.” 

Marc moved his head away from her and she only laughed cheerfully. She smiled mischievously and then slipped her hands under his shirt. He immediately flinched, but finally put his arms around her. He pushed hard against her and she unexpectedly moaned quietly in pain. 

“What is it? What's going on?” He became concerned immediately. Y/N waved her hand dismissively and walked deeper into the flat and towards the kitchen to make herself something warm to drink. “Y/N?”

“Oh, it's nothing,” she confessed frankly, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I promise, you'll find out everything, but can I make myself a cup of tea first?”

“No, cariño,” he spoke up, but the change in his voice immediately made her realize that Jake had taken control. Lockley was probably the most stubborn of the three of them. “We can settle this the easy way or the hard way. You know that perfectly well. 

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile never left her face. She turned back to him and leaned against the kitchen counter. 

“Okay, I did something,” she said cheerfully, and Jake furrowed his eyebrows dangerously. 

“Did you kill someone? Because if you need to get rid of a body, you know I'll help you.” 

“What?” She laughed and shook her head. “No, nothing like that. By the way, it's good to know that you would help me cover up a murder.” 

“Anything for you” he replied confidently and walked closer. He folded his arms across his chest and looked at her with anticipation. “So? What happened?”

“You have to promise me that none of you will laugh,” she asked immediately. Y/N nervously fiddled with the end of her jumper and her earlier certainty suddenly disappeared somewhere. 

When she was deciding on her little surprise, she forgot to actually analyse whether they would actually like it. 

“Have we ever laughed at you?” Jake replied, and she sent him a meaningful look. She had a slight blush on her face, but this time it wasn't just because of the cold. “Well, okay, sometimes,” he replied, but it didn't convince her. 

Jake saw that something was bothering her, so he immediately approached her. He caught her chin between his fingers and forced her to lift her gaze to him. “I'm just teasing you, cariño. I promise no one will laugh at you.” 

“Our wedding anniversary is coming up in a few days…”

“Five years, I know” he interrupted her with a smile and leaned his forehead against hers. “The best years of our lives.” 

Y/N blushed even more. As long as she had been able to be with them, she had the feeling that she would never be able to get used to their words of love. Especially from Jake's side. 

“As always, you love to interrupt me,” she laughed, and he snorted cheerfully. “This year I wanted to do something special for you and at first I thought it was a great idea, but now I don't know. I mean it's a bit late to change anything because it's happened, but…”

Y/N paused and bit her lower lip. She stared at Jake for a moment until she finally moved aside from him and pulled off her jumper first and then started to roll up her t-shirt. Lockley smiled broadly and his eyes definitely darkened. 

“If you want to have sex, you don’t have to do anything. One word from you and you're writhing beneath us in pleasure.”

“Jake! You're always thinking about only one thing.” 

“Don't be so innocent. We know perfectly well that you do too.” 

Y/N laughed nervously and then pulled her shirt up again. She only stopped the material after her shoulder, so that her breast was visible, and especially her left side right next to it. It was there that the plastic wrap could be seen, and underneath it a fresh tattoo. The drawing depicted a crescent moon, and around it were three letters - J, M and S - as a tribute to the names of each alter. Underneath the tattoo was also the short, ornate inscription loved by the moon.

“I wanted to have some part of you always with me,” she explained, but was unable to look at their initial reaction. “I know I could have arranged it with some pendant or other jewellery, but I wanted something permanent that I would never lose and would be with me for the rest of my life.” 

Jake didn't respond, and when she looked at him, she saw that he was looking at her with his mouth open. His posture changed slightly and she recognised immediately that control had been taken over by Steven, who was looking at her with silent adoration and love. 

“Love,” he whispered quietly, and in that one word she felt that he had given away all the emotions he felt for her. “This is…” 

However, Steven was not able to construct an entire sentence correctly. 

“Do you like it?” She asked with a smile. 

“Yes!” He replied straight away. “But love, that must have hurt. Why?”

“For you I would endure any kind of pain” Y/N smiled and caught his face in her hands. “Besides, it didn't hurt that much. I have to be careful for now, because the tattoo has to heal, but I wanted to do it. So you can consider it a little present for our anniversary.” 

“Wow! It's beautiful. I really like it.” 

“And what do Jake and Marc think of it?”

“Jake is honestly stunned, but hornier than ever” Y/N laughed and felt Steven put his hands on her hips. He ran one upwards closer to the tattoos, but so as not to touch this and cause her more pain. “And Marc... I'm not entirely sure about that because he went completely silent.” 

Y/N moved nervously and felt a tentative tightening in her stomach. She knew that none of them had any objections to body adornment. Besides, they had always told her that she wasn't their property and she had the only right to decide what she did with her body (except maybe what went on in the bedroom, because there they mostly took control). 

“Do you think he'll want to talk to me about it now?” She asked uncertainty. Early on in their relationship, they had all agreed that the key to making it all work out was shared communication. Their relationship was so complicated that if it hadn't been for the conversation, they would have split up so long ago. Meanwhile, they had seven years of relationship together including five of being married. 

Steven stroked her cheek and then his eyes rolled back and Marc was standing in front of her again. Y/N grabbed his hand and looked at him fearfully, afraid that what she was about to hear would be nothing pleasant. However, for a long moment Marc was unable to speak. All he did was stare at her with an unconcerned gaze, and, as always, she found it difficult to read the emotion on his face. She thought that over time she would be able to figure out his poker face, but over the years she had found out that it wasn't that easy. 

“Marc? What do you think about that?” 

“Y/N, I…” he started and lowered his gaze down. When he looked at her again, she saw tears shining in his eyes. “I don't know what to say. No one has ever done something like this for me.” 

“Oh, Marc” Y/N smiled and felt the tears gather under her eyelids herself. She caught his face in her hands and, gently running her thumbs over his cheeks, placed a brief but emotional kiss on his lips. Later, their foreheads rested against each other. “I love you, darling. All of you and it is the greatest happiness that I have you in my life. That you chose me to accompany you in all the good and bad moments.” 

“I love you, baby. And I like what you've done. But it makes me wonder why the moon?” 

“Because in the middle of the night, it's the brightest light that guides us. You, Jake and Steven are my light in the middle of the night,” she explained. “Also, you're Moon Knight. It all fits together.” 

Marc laughed happily, tilting his head back. Y/N looked at him as if enchanted, for she had the feeling that there was no more beautiful sound in the world than his laughter. She smiled and then drew his face to hers and brought their lips together again, this time in a stronger and more confident kiss. She entwined her fingers in his hair and gently tugged at the ends of the longer strands, which immediately caused him to give a quiet murmur of satisfaction. Marc slipped his hands under her t-shirt and she immediately felt him exploring her back thoroughly, occasionally hooking his hands on her belly until he finally stopped his hands on her breasts. 

She moaned in pleasure as he squeezed them tightly, but unexpectedly he froze into immobility. He moved his head away from her, and when she looked at his characteristically squinted eyebrows, she knew it was Jake again. 

“Did you show your sweet tits to some asshole?” He asked seriously and she parried merrily and quickly stole another kiss from his lips “That's not funny. They belong only to us and to no one else. No one has the right to even think about them, let alone see them.” 

“Don't worry,” she assured him quickly, running her fingers over his neck and nape. That always put all three of them at ease. “It was the girl who tattooed me. I know exactly how possessive you all are.” 

“It still doesn't change the fact that someone saw something that belongs to us. I think you need to be reminded of that.” 

“I think it's a perfect idea, Mr Lockley.” 

Jake smiled mischievously and then grabbed her and lifted her up. Y/N laughed briefly, but was quickly silenced when she felt hot kisses on her lips. 

I want to cuddle with Marc and do cafuné 😭😭

“Your hair is really soft after you wash it” with Marc🥺(can we send in more than one lmfao)

pairing: marc spector x reader

warnings: fluff!

a/n: yeees you can send in more if you want ;)) btw i also combined this with an anon's request for a head massage!

Night has fallen over the city. There’s a calmness to the air that makes you softly smile as you wait for your husband to finish washing up. You pass the time by reading a book in bed, ready to turn in for the evening soon. 

The chapter you’re currently on has you completely absorbed that you don’t hear the water in the shower shutting off or notice a shirtless Marc entering the room a short while later. It’s only when he snatches the book out of your grasp and sets it on the nightstand do you finally acknowledge him.

“Babe, I wasn’t done with that,” you huff as Marc crawls onto the bed, settling between your legs and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Although, I guess it could probably wait…”

“Mhmm…” he hums in response, gazing up at you sweetly that it made you forget what you’ve read in the last fifteen minutes. “Hi, baby.”

“Hello to you, too,” you reply as Marc nuzzles his head in your stomach as if you’re a pillow. You feel him breathing in the scent of you, savoring the warmth of your body against his. 

Smiling, you thread your fingers through Marc’s dark, damp hair. “Your hair is really soft after you wash it.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles into you, voice thick with exhaustion. “I used your conditioner.”

You lightly chuckle as you twirl each silky curl around your finger. “I know. I’ve been smelling it for weeks now.”

“It’s a really good conditioner. Smells like strawberries, too.”

“It surely does,” you agree, gently drifting your nails through his locks. You then move your fingertips in circular motions on his scalp before moving to his temples, drawing out soft blissful groans from his parted lips. His breaths come out slow and even against your skin, and it’s quiet and peaceful and relaxing—

Then, Marc starts to snore softly, and you hold back the giggle trying to escape your lips, afraid that it’ll wake him from his slumber. Even though you’re beginning to feel pins and needles from where most of his weight is resting on you, you don’t have the heart to disturb him.

It’s rare seeing Marc this way. The usual deep furrow of his forehead and worry lines creasing his face is all gone, serenity now painting over his features. He melts into your hold; finds safety and comfort in the way a home does. Because that’s what you truly are to him— his home, his everything.

You take it all in, embrace the simple delicateness of this moment and let it etch itself into your memory for an eternity. 

Nights like this remind you of your abundance of love for him. And as you carefully brush Marc’s hair away from his forehead to press a kiss there, you wonder how life could be any more beautiful than this.

✨ send me an ask with a sentence + a character and i’ll write the next five ✨

Crying screaming throwing up 😭😭 KISS YOU FOOLS!

Would you be willing to do hide from the prompt list with Steve?

your wish is my command ♥ sorry, it's a bit angsty cause i'm feeling down today

[HIDE; Allowing the smaller friend to hide in the bigger friend’s jacket, arms closed around them and the smaller one’s face tucked close. ]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

You lean against the wall, hugging yourself in hopes of warding off the cold. And God, it is cold. Your breath creates little white clouds, but the cold isn't as bothersome as the anxiety that's been squeezing your throat minutes ago.

"What are you doing here?" asks Steve, a step away from joining you. He rubs both hands together, seeking some kind of warmth. "It's freezing out here."

Steve is a good friend — the best. It's always been hard for you to talk, especially about your own feelings, and with Steve sometimes it feels like you don't even have to. He seems to be able to read your thoughts, to always know when to give you space, when to make sure you're not alone.

You hope that's not true, though. That he's not able to read your thoughts, that is. You don't want him to know a few in particular, the ones you have when you say something that makes him laugh, truly laugh, the kind that has him throwing his head back and making the most wonderful sound in the world. Or when Steve squeezes you into a hug and his scent seems to linger on you for the rest of the day. Or when…

Well, better stop there.

The sound of your name makes you turn your head to look at him. "Hmm?" you ask.

"Are you cold?"

You rub your own arms. Except for your hands, you're not feeling that cold, but it was definitely warmer inside the house. Too warm, somehow. Suffocating.

"I'm not taking your jacket," you say, already all too familiar with Steve's kindness and the way his ridiculously nice brain works. He gives so much to others that someone needs to remind him that he is also a person with needs like everyone else.

"But-"

"No."

Steve takes your hands between his and blows hot air into them. "You look like you're cold."

You're not — well, at least you don't feel like you are. It feels like you're burning hot right now, this close to him.

He doesn't let go of your hands. Instead, his fingers close around your wrists and he gently pulls you closer.

"Come here," he whispers, and you let him wrap your hands around his own waist, under his jacket, fluffy and warm and incredibly cozy. You enjoy the feeling of his chin resting on top of your head, of his hands rubbing your back slowly. "Better?" he asks.

You let your eyes close for a moment, hugging him a little tighter.

"You're my favorite person," you whisper against his chest, kind of hoping he won't hear.

Of course, he does.

"Oh, I think I'm going to need this in writing," Steve says, and you can pretty much hear the smile in his voice. "Just wait until I rub that in Eddie's face."

He feels your laughter in his chest, as if it were inside his heart. Maybe it is.

After a moment, he whispers against your hair, "You're my favorite person too."

I know?! I got so upset because of the "Dave thing". They just "forgot" about the drama between Klaus and Dave. I'm so sad that Klaus got none development in the season two.

I love season two. I love it. It’s been out for two days and I’ve watched it three times already. I LOVE IT. The Vanya, Klaus and Allison trio? Diego immediately going up to Klaus? Klaus and Diego being like ‘sup new brother in law’? Five roasting his brothers? Luther becoming likable and more independent? DIEGO MEETING GRACE? Vanya becoming a more strong and stable person? They improved almost everyone’s characters and by almost I mean they completely forgot about Klaus. They showed no work on his story line and no growth in his powers even though they mention him being sober for those three years. Him and Ben really lost their closeness too and seemed rather hostile towards each other. He didn’t do anything in the end fight. They did really nothing to make the Dave plot line actually seem important. The cult? A big joke. Idk I want justice for my boi