Why Tom Hiddleston Is So Precious???

Ooh, so precious! 🥹😭 If you're planning on writing more parts and doing a tag list, can I be added to it? Thanks! Loved your fic 😍

Mrow

Bakugou x roomate!reader

Summary: you've gotten yourself into a quirk accident & were now..?? a cat??

A/n: if there's one thing i like about the mha universe is that the existence of quirks make up so many plot possibilities to play with. i had a lot of fun writing this & i hope you enjoy reading too!

🌟

You were a cat.

Your day most certainly could not get any weirder than this.

You were chasing after a petty thief down the alleyway when it happened. You almost felt bad for going after what could be the most skittish crime offender you've ever encountered.

Then she struck you with her quirk.

The force of it knocked you to the ground & your sight went blurry. You vaguely heard her apologized profusely, swearing it was an accident & stammering that you'll be able to figure out how to undo it on your own, leaving you to slowly black out.

When you came to, you found yourself absolutely drowning in a mass of clothes that you soon realized was your hero outfit. Horrified at the discovery, you looked down at your naked body only to find out you weren't exactly naked.

You were covered in fur.

Cursing out in confusion, you heard your own voice rang through the alleyway. But it didn't sound like your voice & what came out was most definitely not coherent words.

Panicked you scrambled to get out of the alley, almost plopping face first into what seemed to be a ridiculously huge puddle, barely catching yourself as you fell on your furry butt. Peering into the muddy water, you felt your heart sank at the sight of your own reflection.

You were a cat.

🌟

You've sat at your front door for approximately 15 minutes, glaring at the wood, willing it open with your mind.

You decided quickly that heading to your agency will do you no good, already concluding you aren't getting a productive two-way conversation with anyone while you were in this form. Trying to alert other pro heroes on your way did not work out, unless them cooing & making baby voices at you counted.

The familiar sound of heavy boots approaching your door made you perk up. Your roomate was home.

You padded aside to make way for your roomate to open the door, you little body slumping in relief. You didn't notice Bakugou skeptically raising an eyebrow at your presence but saying nothing otherwise.

The click of the door unlocking had you sighing inwardly. Ugh. Thank fuck. You thought as you padded in tiredly. Curling up in bed after the day you had the only thing on your mind.

You barely made it two steps in before your feet were no longer on the ground, making you squeal in surprise.

"Oi."

You heard your own angry mewls as Bakugou grabbed you by the scruff, holding you up to his face.

"Who the fuck do you think you are waltzing in like you own this place?"

You wanted to scream. You were too tired for this shit right now.

Oh my god. Bakugou! I do own this place. Its me! Y/n!

You tried explaining to no avail as you thrashed in his hold. Bakugou muttered something about you being 'a loud little fuck too' & started heading for the front door.

This made you bristle in irritation even more.

There was absolutely no way you were turned into a cat & getting kicked out of your own apartment on the same day. Not fucking happening.

The moment Bakugou dropped you off out the front door, you launched yourself onto his pant leg before he could close the door in your face, clinging on to dear life as the blonde yelped in surprise at feeling your little claws dig into the fabric of his sweatpants.

"Are you fucking kidding me??" He yelled, swinging he's leg around, jostling you with the movement, trying to get you off of him.

No! Thats my line, you bastard! Don't fucking kid with me!

You yelled profanities at him. All of which, to your dismay, came out as high pitched wails while Bakugou stumbled around as he tried to pry you off his leg while you held on with all your might. In his struggle, he bumped into the front door, cracking it open just a smidge. Seeing this opening you leaped off of him & made a mad dash inside, hearing your angry roomate shout after you. You dove for the living room sofa, barely wiggling your way through the narrow space underneath, only just escaping the angry blonde's grasp.

You heard Bakugou yelling at you to get out, to which you yelled right back at him- non-threatening little mewls be damned. You weren't standing for this bullshit.

Fuck.

There was no way of communicating with him like this. Where the fuck was a convinient scrabble board game when you needed one.

🌟

"Oi. Come out. You must be hungry. I got you food."

No! You'll try to throw me out again! Out of my own home may I add!

You heard Bakugou snicker at your yowls from under the sofa, making your tail puff up in annoyance.

"Calm down, brat. I won't throw you out. Promise. Just food."

You contemplated your options for a moment before relenting to his offer. Bakugou chuckled at the sight of you poking your head out of your hiding place, looking up at him with doubts written all over your furry face.

You watched him place two saucers by the table, one of steamed fish, the other filled with clean water before moving on to set his own meal & take a seat at the table. Trotting over nervously, you looked up at him one last time, just in case he was bluffing, only to have him roll his eyes at you. "Hurry up. My foods getting cold."

You tilt your head at that.

His food? Was he waiting for you to eat together?

You wanted to ask but your tummy growling & confirmation that you could hold Bakugou to his word had you making your way to your dishes. Plus your questions would only come out as mewls & squeals anyway so.

Sitting on your haunches you meowed out a 'thanks for the food' before digging in, making the blonde laugh.

"At least you have some manners for a feral little thing."

🌟

You didn't have time to worry about getting kicked out after dinner, having seemingly become the least of Bakugou's problems after a phonecall left him agitated & fidgety.

You watched Bakugou pace the living room back & forth, whilst holding his phone up to his ear, seemingly getting more & more frustrated by the minute as he grumbled under his breath ever time the call went to voicemail.

"Mrow?"

Bakugou barely acknowledged your presence with a glance before he's dialing the number again.

"She's not fucking answering."

Who?

"The other dumbass that lives here. She should've been home ages ago. Its getting dark."

Oh. Oh, he's worried about you.

Cursing under his breath at another voicemail, Bakugou muttered something about calling your agency again while you watched him barely contain his distress as he learns no one has seen you since your patrol.

"This fucking dumbass. Where the hell are you??" Bakugou growled while tugging on the boots of his hero outfit, the worry underlying his voice made your gut churn with guilt.

You scurried over to where he sat at the door, swiftly lacing up his boots. He paused when you meowed, peaking around his side.

Keeping your eyes on his, you tested the waters by perching up on his thigh, front paws on his tummy with those red eyes watching your every move. When Bakugou didn't push you off, you continued wiggling your way up his chest, his hand instinctively coming under your legs to support you.

Face to face with him, you see the distress on his face, the expression making your heart heavy. Pushing your little body on your hind legs, you bring a paw up to the wrinkles between his brows.

I'm right here, Bakugou. You mewled quietly.

The blonde huffed out a quiet laugh at that. "Whats with you? You're way too perceptive for a regular fluffball." You perk up at his words. Maybe he'd finally notice!

Thats 'cause I'm not a cat! Its me! Y/n!

To your dismay, he only chuckled at your frantic meows. "Alright, alright. I have to go now," he rumbled out with an amused grin overlaying his worry. He stood up slowly, picking you up in his large hands to set you on the ground. "M'bringing that idiot home so I can introduce ya. I'd bet she's gonna love ya."

You could only watch as Bakugou stepped out into the night to search for you, knowing he wouldn't find you out there tonight.

These were the best drabbles I have read in my entire life. I think I'm fucking in love! Thank u so much for this preciousness!!

Typos - Drabbles

All requests made by fellow Typhoes are listed down below!

NOTE- THESE ARE NOT HAPPENING THE SAME TIME AS THE MAIN SERIES, ONLY THE ONES MARKED WITH A ‘+’ 

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Typos Masterlist

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. 

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

Agatha: “My husband looks better in the dark”

the husband in question: 

Heroes say goodbye to Tony Stark in Avengers: Endgame deleted scene

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay, so this idea popped into my head today. Marc Spector, injury dialogue prompt 16, and a nurse reader. It’s just chef’s kiss

"I'd hate to be a burden..." || "It's alright, (Name). I don't mind taking care of you"

a/n: nurse!reader x marc is something that can be so personal actually....warnings for blood, injuries, etc.

"That guy is here again."

You glance up from the chart in your hands, frowning at your smirking coworker. She raises a brow and takes a long sip from the water bottle in her hands, not breaking eye contact.

She smacks her lips when she lowers the bottle, "Y'know, the really hot one?"

You don't respond, turning back to the chart and sliding your finger down the page, looking for the information you'd been trying to input into the monitor in front of you.

"I can tend to him, if you like. Slow night and all." She tilts her head, like she knows she's already got your goat, laughter in her voice. "Plus, he's all sweaty and miserable and I'm dying to see the abs he's clearly hiding."

A flare of jealousy you have no control over rears up.

"No," you respond, a little too fast. "I'll get him."

"Mhm," she hums. "Let him take you home this time," she advises.

You roll your eyes and squint at the screen in front of you, vision doubling as you stare, your eyes tired and body aching after such a long shift. "He doesn't want to take me home."

"Sure," she nods, eyes wide, tone sarcastic. "Just has a way of showing up here broken at the end of your shifts."

You don't respond, gritting your teeth instead, eyes sore with strain, a headache beginning a slow pounding at your temples. "Just let him know I'll be there in a minute. If he's not bleeding to death."

"He's right as rain, I imagine. He could patch himself up, I think. Says he'll only see you anyways."

You don't grace her with a response, and she laughs as she walks away, back in the direction of the clinic's waiting room.

After you finish entering the patient's information, you take a moment to breathe. In, out. In, out.

You can do this. You're almost to the finish line.

You shove the patient's chart back into the filing stand before turning to make your way to the lobby.

Lo and behold, Marc Spector stands alone in the clinic's lobby, leaning carefully against the wall, idly watching the silent children's movie playing on a TV in the corner. Something in your chest cracks, knowing that he hasn't sat down to avoid staining the newly reupholstered waiting room chairs.

He looks just the way he had the first night you met him, when he was just some blood speckled guy in the lobby, grouchy but kind.

"Marc?" You call, jerking your head toward the hall to the exam rooms. "C'mon."

His eyes snap to you, gaze softening a fraction as he pushes himself off the wall and follows you easily.

"That other nurse thinks I come here to hit on you," he says when you shut the door of the exam room behind you.

"Well," you lead him to the sink in the corner, holding a hand up to him. "Don't you?"

Marc grunts and looks away as you wash your hands thoroughly. "Your turn," you nudge him in front of the sink with your knee. "All the way up to your elbows. Scrub."

"I know," he grumbles at you, perpetually cranky.

You lean next to him, watching the pink and rust of blood swirl down the drain. "At least you've stopped scaring the staff."

"I don't mean to scare anyone," he rumbles calmly.

You smile, some of your exhaustion peeling away. "I know you don't." You want to touch him, but you turn to snap on a pair of gloves instead as Marc finishes washing and pats his hands and arms dry with paper towels.

"Do I scare you?"

"Not nearly as much as you'd like to believe, Spector." You follow him to one of the plastic chairs where he finally takes a seat with a groan. You know he hates sitting on the exam table and so you don't make him.

His eyes are hard, a little crease between them. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin'," you tilt his face up, examining the cuts that litter his skin. "Are you hurt anywhere I can't see? Linda wants to see your abs."

Marc chokes out an unexpected laugh. "Got a slash on my leg. Sorry I didn't get my guts torn out."

"What she doesn't know if that you've got a cute little belly," you say as you turn to grab the supplies you'll need to clean and bandage and suture him.

He's trying to hide a smile when you turn back. "That's not very nice."

"It's very nice actually. You're strong and it shows. Abs are over-fucking-rated. All show, no strength," you inform him, cleaning a cut along his cheekbone with long, measured, careful pressure.

Marc doesn't answer you. Though you notice his cheeks are a bit pink as he watches you staunch the bleeding on a couple of wounds on his arms and hands and along his jaw. You examine the cut on his thigh and sigh. "That's going to need stitches. Christ, Marc, what were you doing?" You ask, deciding that needs attention first.

"Nothin'," he lies. "Nothing you need to worry about."

You raise a brow at him, cutting some of the fabric around the wound away, before you set to cleaning it too.

"I hate to - I don't mean to take up your time like this -," he stutters suddenly. "You're always so busy here. I -,"

"It's alright, Marc. I don't mind taking care of you," you say gently, interrupting him. "I'd rather you come here. To me."

Marc's chest hitches, but you don't look up, not sure you'll be able to handle whatever expression is on his face.

You make quick work of the stitches, dabbing on numbing cream and angling your body to block Marc's view of the process as much as you're able to. "There," you say when the bandage is in place, straightening and stepping back a bit.

Marc remains silent, his face a carefully schooled neutral mask as he watches you work slowly up his body. You treat the cuts on his arms and face. He's stoic and silent but his eyes are revealing when you dare to look into them, the hardened cut of his resting face doing nothing to hide what lay in his gaze.

Guilt.

Your ribs tighten, squeezing at your lungs. You hate when he looks at you like that, like he would only ever take things from you.

"When Linda told me you were here," you start, swabbing some cream onto the bruises he's laden with. "She said you were all sweaty and miserable and hot."

He laughs again, the sound clearly unexpected to him, and you smile, having gotten what you aimed for. "And hot?"

You nod, "Precisely. And hot."

"Am I missing something here, baby?"

You finish with the last bruise and slide your gloves off, tossing them away and stepping between his thighs, to cup his jaw between your hands. "Probably. Like, I guess there's just something about a pathetic, miserable man, waiting for his partner that really does it for the ladies. Y'know?"

"Not really, no," he says, curling his arms around your hips, tilting his head against your belly as you bury your hands in his sweat dampened hair. "Sorry. I only want you."

Your heart flutters, even though you know he means to take care of him, that he doesn't like anyone else patching him up, touching him when they don't know how and when it's okay to touch him.

"Hey," he pulls back. "I am sorry. I know you're exhausted. I don't do this on purpose -,"

You smile, "You kinda do. That's okay." Marc lets you kiss him, hums when you slide your tongue against his bottom lip. His mouth falls open to you easily, breath warm against your mouth. He waits for you, waits for you to make the decision to kiss him again. When you do, again and again and again, he tastes like the coppery tint of blood, but underneath that, like Marc.

He hums again, tightens his arms around you. "You can always tell me to fuck off, y'know?" He says when he pulls back, eyes still closed. "If you don't want to deal with me."

"Deal with you?" You ask, cupping his cheeks between your palms, thumbs sweeping over the strong arch of bone. "Marc, I don't deal with you. Dealing is, like, something you don't want to put up with but you do anyways."

"Is that not what's goin' on?" He asks warily, blinking up at you.

"No," you say, only a little horrified. "No, of course not."

"So Linda's not gettin' the chance to see my abs anytime soon," he pats your hip and labors to his feet.

You laugh, and Marc does too. "No. Definitely not. You're my favorite patient."

"Hope I'm a little more than that," he touches the space beneath your eyes. "Let's get you home. You're exhausted. When's your shift over?"

"Now," you yawn, snuggling into his arms for the brief moment he hugs you close. "You're my last. Lemme go get my stuff."

Marc holds you longer than he usually does, nose against your temple. "Thank you."

You're not sure what he means, what he's thanking you for. Still you answer, "anytime, baby."

“There is a war inside of Butcher, and to get to the dawn, you must first travel through the night. Butcher has both the tendency to be the villain and the hero, which makes him a hell of a lot of fun to play.” – Karl Urban for GQ Magazine.

This is the thing more precious that I have read!! The flashbacks with Freddie was so cute and soft, that warmed my heart. I cried! You just make me cry with this amazing history! Please, continue writing like this. It's perfect!!

All Because Roger Wanted Cupcakes!

A/N: Hello! This was not requested. I just felt the need to write because there isn’t enough Rami fics out there! So boom! Enjoy!

Rami X May!Daughter!Reader

Brian’s daughter comes to set and things bloom from there!

___

My front door opens to my house startling me from my place on my couch. I look over my shoulder to see my father’s gray mop of curly hair. “Gosh dad! Care to knock?” He smiles at me kissing my forehead. “At least I’m not your uncle Roger.” I place my hand over my face remembering the times uncle Rog has waltzed in my house unannounced many times. “Still.” I laugh settling back on the cushion. “How’s the film coming along?” “Good. They’re coming along very well. A little weird to see the four of them together. They’ve gotten Freddie perfect. Rami treats his role with so much respect. He’s treating Freddie so well.” I look over to the framed pictures on my wall, my eyes scanning over the photograch of Uncle Freddie holding me at the age of three. We were so close when I was younger.  “I wish he was here Dad.” I sighed and leaned closer to him for comfort. His kisses my temple wrapping an arm around me. “I know love. I do too. He always wanted to walk down the aisle with me and you at your wedding.” I laugh at the thought. “He always said no man would be better for me than him.” “He always did didn’t he? You were his princess (y/n) can’t expect anything less.”

———-

My phone rings as I pipe icing onto the vanilla bean raspberry cupcakes Roger requested. I slide my finger on the phone screen answering the call. “Hello?” “(y/n)! New plan! Why don’t you just bring the cupcakes here instead of my house? I’m craving one dear.” I groan internally. “Uncle Roger you’ve called to change this so called plan four times. Can we settle on this being the last one? I’ll drop them off wherever you are.”

———-

Rami POV:

“Wonderful love! See you soon!” Roger hangs up his phone then smiles at Brian (And receiving a sassy look). “What?” Brian shakes his head. “You’re working her to hard mate.” “All I did was call my loving niece asking for some sweets.” “You called her at six in the morning. She’s been making you treats since she could turn on the oven.” “She’ll make a man very happy someday.” As the two argue back and boys and I just sit watching. “Take notes Ben.” Roger states pointing at Ben who is laughing at the two older rock stars bickering. “Okay then. Question one. Who the hell are you talking about?” Joe asked holding back his laughter as well.

Brian smiles and looks at us with a look in his eyes. “My daughter.” His speaks with love  in his voice. “(y/n). Roger here loves to mess with her. Sneak into her house and let a llama loose.” Roger slaps his knee at the memory. “Ah yes! That was good. What was that her 27th birthday?”

“28th, but close. Good to see your mind isn’t gone yet.” A new voice rips through the atmosphere. Brian and Roger part ways to reveal a– a breathtaking young women. Her hair flowing like summer, and her eyes glowing with wander. Everything about her is angelic.

“Did you bring them at least?” She rolls her eyes at Roger and pushed a covered box into his arms. “Ah this is why you’re the best.” “Oh, I know, but please do say it more. I love hearing it.” Brian laughs wrapping an arm around his daughter.

“Anyway. Sorry for breaking off there. This is my daughter (Y/n) everyone.” “Hello there.” She giggles and waves across the room her eyes landing on me last. “You must be Rami. I’ve heard so much about you.” She stretches out her hand. I grasp it living in the feeling of her being so right.

“It’s a pleasure (y/n). I hope you’re staying around a while.” I uncontrollably wink at her gaining a surprised look from Brian. (Y/n) blushes and draws her hand back slowly. “I um I think I will now. I’m interested in seeing all of you work.” “Well are you sure you’re free today poppet? Don’t have some vet appointment to take your pup to?” Brian shot quickly. (Y/n) looks at him confused. “Nope that was last week dad. You trying to get rid of me? Not wanting to spend time with me?” she jokes elbowing her father.

Brian smiles and wraps his arm around her shoulder. “Of course not! Come on, I’ll  show you around.” As they exit all eyes land on me. “What?” “You’re going to get in trouble.” Ben says in a sing song voice. “What are you talking about?” Roger smiles and stands up grabbing a second cupcake.

He bites into the cake and his eyes roll back. “Oh my god. You lads have got to have one. Go on, get one.” Roger passes the plate around as everyone grabs one.

I bite into the treat and am even more motivated to make her mine. “Oh man.” Roger pats me on the back. “Rami, you need to marry her. Then you’ll get this all the time.” I shook my head at him. “Did you see the look in Brian’s eyes? He was shooting daggers at me just for shaking her hand.” “Oh don’t worry about him. Ben and I’ve got it covered. Just go on and be smooth. Be a Taylor.” Roger says determined. Oh lord what have I started?

——-

(y/n) POV:

“So what is on the schedule today?” I ask my dad as he shows me the (In his words) best smoothie machine on set. “I think they’re filming a concert.” “Oh come on!” I laugh pulling him away quickly.

As we make our way to the makeup trailer I notice the familiar songs of Queen playing in the background. I enter the room to see the boys all dressed up as their roles. “Oh wow this is freaky.” I laugh looking at everyone. “Oh my gosh! This is REALLY freaky. Look at you Gwilym. You- I’m- Wow you really look like my dad.” We all laugh and it’s then when I notice Rami. He’s got the longer hair Fred scorterd during the album Night at the Opera. “Well hello there.” “Hello love.” He speaks in a british accent matching the look perfectly. “This is… crazy. You look so much like him.” “Like who darling? It’s me! One and only Freddie.”

Oh I get it… He likes to stay in character. “Oh, well please accept my apology Freddie.”

——-

Watching them preform was the highlight. Rami really takes all of Freddie in. He makes him come alive. I watch from behind the stage where my father and Roger watch as well. Watching and hearing Freddie brings back so many loving memories I can’t help but tear up.

The boys run off the stage laughing and smiling. “What’s next?” Roger smiles at me. “Lunch!”

—– 3 weeks later——

As production went on I started coming to the set more and more becoming close with the cast especially Rami.

Myself along with the rest of the cast sit around a table eating our lunches. “So (Y/n) why don’t you have a band like your dad?” Ben asks stuffing his face. “Well I’m more involved with Queen on the financial Business side.” “But why not get your own group? You don’t have some singing chops like Brian?”  Rami asks interested.

“Oh she does! She’s just scared to use them!” Roger pipes in. “Am not! I just- don’t do it in front of others.” “Scared.” “Ass.” “Langue (y/n).” my father barks at me. Yes even at 33 my father still treats me like I’m 16.

“I think you should let us hear.” Joe speaks making everyone else agree. “Fine, fine, but we have to have some very simple rules. Number one- no one looks at me while I sing. Number two- If it sucks. Don’t tell me.” Roger laughs. “I’m going to break both of those.” I shake my head laughing. “I bet you sound beautiful.” Rami says smiling at me making me blush. “She does. I’ve heard her.” My father says flatly, killing the conversation.

———

As we make it back to the set the group is now going crazy getting the stage set up for me to sing. “Guys this is really not necessary I can just do it here on the ground.” Roger stakes his head as he pulls the piano out. “Oh yes it’s very necessary.”

“What are you going to sing for us Ms. May?” Rami asks standing next to me. “Um I don’t know really. I guess maybe one from Queen.” “No poppet. You know what you should do? Yours.” “Mine? Dad I don’t think-” “You wrote a song?” Roger asks with wide eyes. “Well it’s no ‘I’m in love with my car Rog, but yes I did.” Rami taps my back moving forward a bit encouragingly. “I’d love to hear it.” I look at him, discovering he had a genuinely enthused smile. His kind eyes and handsome smile strangely motivate me to show him my hidden talent.

I sit on the piano bench and begin to play.

Brian POV:

Her fingers move effortlessly on the keys reminding me of the day she first touched a piano.

Freddie is sat at the piano in the room playing tunes as (y/n) twirls around. “Lovely princess, just lovely.” She giggles and walks over to him sitting on the bench letting her feet swing. “Uncle Freddie I want to play.” She smiles looking at the keys. “Alright. Well let’s start easy Baby May.”

The moment you arrived they built you up

The sun was in your eyes

You couldn’t believe it

Riches all around, you’re walking

Stars are on the ground

You start to believe it

Every face along the boulevard is a dreamer just like you

You looked at death in a tarot card and you saw what you had to do

(P!ATD Creds)

Her eyes closed as she expresses all the motion running through her being. She’s fantastic. She’s a Queen. She’s one of Freddie’s pupils. I scan the room to see the others in the same enjoyment as myself. Roger of course staring at her and recording the whole thing, but Rami is the one who catches my attention. His eyes watching her every movement. He’s working on her emotions as if he’s fueled by them. He looks at her the way I’ve only seen one person look at her with such love and appreciation. Freddie.

I smile as I watch his face change each key she hits. “No one deserves you. Except for me dear! Just remember that!” “Yes uncle Freddie.” I hear them in my head. I elbow Roger getting him to see Rami’s face as well. “No one better than Fred.” Roger laughs.

(Y/n) POV:

I finish looking up at the boys only to see I’ve gained the entire set crew’s ears and eyes. “I- um…” Applause rings out forcing a smile upon my face. My father rushes to me whisking me up into the air. “Oh that’s my girl. You would’ve made him so proud.” Everyone of the boys praise me on the performance, but really only one opinion mattered at that moment. Rami smiles walking up to me. “That was incredible Mayflower.” Rami whispers in my ear. I pull back staring at him shocked. “Where did you hear that?” Rami looks at me confused. “I just… said it? I don’t know. Is something wrong?” “No, no. That’s the name Freddie always called me. I’ve never heard anyone say it since he passed.” Rami’s face became very panicked. “I’m sorry. I’ll never say it again I-” “Rami stop. You can call me that. It’s nice to hear it. Especially from you.” I smile and quickly kiss his cheek.

——————–

Rami POV:

“You just need to ask her out! Come on man! She won’t say no.” “Maybe, but Brian will!” “She’s 33!” Roger shakes his head. “That’s never stopped him before.” I groan and slump back in my chair. Months. It’s been months since I met (Y/n) May. Months since I fell in love with her. I rub my face and stand. “Okay. I’m doing it.” “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to walk right up to her.” “AND YOU WILL DO WHAT?” “Ask her out.” “YOU’RE GOING TO WHAT?” “ASK (Y/N) MAY ON A DATE!” “YES! THERE YOU GO!” Roger screams pumping me up.

The door opens and (y/n) steps through holding a platter full of cookies for Roger. “What’s all the yelling?” Silence follows. “Hello? Are you all deaf?” She laughs coming over to me and waving her hand in front of my face. “I like you.” I spit out causing her face to pale. She gulps; her breath jaggad. “What?” I look around at everyone in the room. All of them staring at me shocked. I try and speak. I try and resort to words to explain what I just tossed out of my mouth, but I can’t.

“Screw it.” I grab her shirt and pull her to me pressing my lips upon hers. The boys whistle and wolf howl as I kiss her.

I pull away smiling at her. “Wow.” She breathes out smiling as well. “So how about a date?” She giggles and kisses me once more. “You’ve got yourself a deal Rami.”

———–

3 Months Later

(Y/n) POV: I swipe Rami’s mustache off his face causing him to yelp. “Not so hard!” “You say that no matter how easy I do it baby.” I laugh rubbing his top lip. Rami stands up wrapping his arms around my waist. “And I always get a kiss as an apology.” He presses his lips against mine back me up to the couch.

He lays me down continuing to praise me with his soft lips. “You’ve only got 15 minutes.” Rami leans up smirking at me playfully. “You act like that’s a problem.” He digs his face down into my neck biting and leaving kisses.

Lost in the heat of the moment neither of us heard the door knob twisting.

“Rami, have you seen-“ I look up to meet the eyes of the one person I feared in this moment. My father. “Found her.”

“Dad.” I scramble off the couch towards him, but he closes the door before I made it. I stop at the door and sign in sadness.

—-

On the other side of the door the famous band guitarist was storming off in anger when Roger stopped him. “Whoa where are you going?” “Somewhere.”

Brian continuous just arm off all Roger catches him in the parking lot. . I grabbed his arm and it was some around her face him. “What are you doing?” “RAMI AND (Y/N) ARE MAKING OUT IN HIS TRAILER!” Roger stops and looks at Brain. He knew what was going on. Brain had finally seen the sweet couple you two became. “And? They’re great together! Plus you love Rami! He’s great!”

Brian thinks. For a LONG TIME. Long enough for him to walk back to the set and back to his daughter who was sitting on the couch in disappointment.

Brian opens the door and steps inside. He meets eyes with his daughter and crumbles. “Aw poppet I’m sorry.” “Dad.” She goes to him hugging him.

Once they break Brain meets eye contact with Rami. He moves towards him.

(Y/n) POV:

Rami stands still as stone as my father walks up to him. “Rami.” My dad sticks his hand out for my boyfriend to accept. Rami looks down at it and smiles accepting the firm shake. “You take care of her mate.” Rami smiles at my father happily. “I plan to Brian. Thank you.”

Dad makes his way to me kissing my forehead and then exiting.

——————

Deep breaths.

I stare at the two white doors blocking me from my soon to be husband. I look to my side and see my father shaking his nerves out. He looks at me and covers his mouth. “Dad stop.” I laugh trying not to cry. “Just so beautiful Poppet. He would’ve loved this moment.” I inhale a deep breath and smile at my dad. “I wish he was here.” My father grabbed my hand looking at the doors with a smile on his face. “He is love. He is.”

The double door open and the music plays. My father and I both step on our left foot first continuing to go in sync until I meet the outreached hand of Rami. I grab his hand letting my fathers go gentilly. “Hello May Flower.” Rami smiles  at me as I blush under my vail. “Hello Rami, love.”

——————-

“Gosh it’s freezing!” Rami exclaimed holding our 4 year old son ((S/N)). The door opens and my dad’s face is reviled, but hidden under a Santa Claus costume. ((S/N)) yells in excitement and jumps in my dad’s arms. “Grand May! Why are you dressed up like Santa? He’ll beat you up if he finds out you’re messing up his look!” Dad laughs pulling off the beard. “I was just trying to surprise my favorite boy! How about this?” Dad pulls out a  box from behind the couch.

As ((S/N)) rips through the paper he comes to find a small guitar and a microphone. “Cool!” He laughs in excitement. “Whoa! Who knows! He might be a drummer! We can’t go making these decisions for him!” Roger exclaims coming into the room.

As the night goes on Rami and I are sat upon the couch cuddled up while the other boys are playing with ((S/N)).  “You know what would be really nice?” I whisper into Rami’s ear as he happily watches the others. “What darling?” I sit up more so he can view my face. “A girl.”

He looks at my face seeing all seriousness. “Why don’t we try then?” I smirk kissing his cheek. “Already a head of the game there.” His face travels through many emotions as he works out what I just said to him.

He stands up quickly. “YOU’RE PREGNANT?” Everyone in the room turns to me as I sheepishly nod with a smile. They all go nuts coming over and hugging me.

“We’ve got to tell everyone! We have to have a huge revile and it’s going to be fantastic!” Rami goes on and on about how the four of us will be the best of families and how extravagant the birthday parties will be. My dad hugs me laughing. “Nobody better but Fred.” He mumbles in my ear, and for a slight second the corner of my eye caught sight of something. Someone. I looked at the steps to see Freddie looking healthy and happy. He stares down at my family with love and amazement. He meets my eyes and smiles even wider. “Good job May Flower. You’ve got yourself a king.” He says as his eyes wander back to Rami and my son.

In a split second he’s gone, but I’m not sad. My life is the best it has ever been just because of Roger wanting some dumb cupcakes. I guess I should thank him sometime.