#I have not folded clothes in months. I am a clothes in a pile person forever and ever. but I have to pack to be out of town for a week so I | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

funnyexel · 2 years

Text

Til’ Sea Do Us Part

Arthur Curry (Aquaman) x Black Female Reader

Summary: After being in a complicated fling with Arthur, you take a much needed vacation to clear your head. But when your vacation uncovers an unexpected surprise, what will you do once confronted?

Warning(s): L Bombs, Hair pulling, Smut, Degrading, Praise

Word Count: 4.7k

Grabbing a shirt from the big pile of clothes on your bed, you fold it up and place it in your suitcase. Packing had to be the worst part of going on any vacation, your room would always be left in a total wreck afterwards.

“Knock knock.”

You sigh, already knowing who would have the nerve to knock on your door and actually say the words 'knock, knock'.

“What.”

You say, knowing who was at your door before you ever opened it because there’s only one person who knocks like that.

“Am I disturbing you.” He pushes past you and goes to your kitchen.

“Actually, yes. You are.” He rolls his shoulders as he cracks a beer he got from your fridge.

“Too bad. What are you doing anyway.” He leans over, seeing the tornado in your room. Going in it, he immediately sees the suitcase.

“You’re leaving?” A serious statement finally leaves his mouth.

“Yeah?” You go back to folding and packing.

“Where are you going.”

He crosses his arms, demanding a response.

“Wow. You never listen to me.” You huff, being more aggressive with your clothes.

“What do you mean. Yeah I do, all the time unfortunately.” You roll your eyes, walking up to him and his arms relax at his sides.

“If you did you would know where I am going.” You shove a pair of pants into his chest, pointing to your dresser.

“Third drawer.”

“Don’t do this to me now. It had to be a while ago.”

He chugs his beer and quickly throws it away. Well to be fair, you did tell him around a month and a half ago so it has been a minute.

“A cruise. I’m going away on a cruise, Arthur.”

Done with the outfits you start packing panties and bras.

“Yeah, with your best friend. See, I do listen.” You chuckle in the slightest.

“Whatever you say.”

You take a few from your drawer and place them in two piles.

“Woah! What are you planning to do with those panties?” He points to a dark green lace panties you have in your hands.

“I’m a grown woman, Arthur.” He shakes his head and snatches your underwear.

“I’m gonna need you to keep it pg on this cruise.” He says stretching his arm up so its impossible for you to reach your underwear.

“Stop being a child and give me that.” You hold out your hand and he stares down at you not letting up.

“Come on! I don’t have time to play around, the boat is leaving this evening.”

You reach up, putting your hand on his shoulder, “Please,” You plead, he sighs and finally hands it to you.

Zipping up your suitcase, you roll it in the hallway by the front door. You shove him out your room, “Aria will literally kill me if I’m late.”

“It won’t be the end of the world.” He tries to persuade you to let him stay but you are relentless.

“No. But it will be the end of our vacation.” He turns to you in your doorway, towering over you.

“A moment can’t hurt…come on.”

He leans down mere centimeters from your lips. Temptation calls out to you, just one moment won’t hurt. You put your lips against his. A peck is all that could be managed with how fast you pulled away.

“Arthur, I can’t do this.” You keep your distance with your hand on his chest.

“What do you mean? Its a kiss.” He bites his lip, thinking about that teasing peck.

“A kiss that turns into touching, that turns into sex, that turns into you…not wanting a relationship after you rocked my world the night before,” You see the guilt in his eye,

“We tried that whole thing and it didn’t work. I know what I want and I’m not settling for less.” He runs his fingers through his hair.

“I rocked your world, huh?” He smugly says, but the unamused look on your face says that this isn’t the time to joke.

“Bottom line is, you’re not ready for commitment.” You take a deep breath, slowly closing the door on him.

“So I’m going to pack matching lace sets, short dresses and swimsuits that shouldn’t be labeled as such because I’m not casual sex, I am a person that deserves to be valued and not seen as a personal fuck toy.”

You closed the door on him, not letting him issue a response. It needs to sink in for him. You met up with Aria and got on the cruise, as soon as you both got your bags sent to your room you changed into swimsuits and lounged on the top deck by the pool.

“and I told him, I’m not casual sex, I deserve to be valued as a woman.” You tell her, taking a sip of your margarita.

“I know thats right. It was long overdue. You let him get away with too much shit.”

You take out the straw and down the drink, sighing.

“He fucks so good.” She laughs at your blunt words.

“And he can be sweet from time to time. He checks off all the boxes and I mean all.”

She opens her mouth to ask you further questions but ultimately takes you word for it. Continuing to listen you ramble on.

“He just can’t commit. Its always something and its always me!” A worker picks up your empty glass and asks if you want another.

“Pina colada with extra vodka please.” They nod to you.

“Darling, that’s just men. There’s always something wrong when you find the “perfect” guy. Whether that be snoring or in-laws. Sometimes I wonder if life was easier when we were dating women.”

She puts on her shades.

“For now lets tan or get darker in our case and we’ll continue this conversation in the room. I can feel the conservative stares.”

You chuckle at her and smile closing your eyes.A few days in and your battling a crazy hangover. You were in the Bahamas for two days, Aria had family there so she spent time with them while you recovered. You got food and everything but you stayed in the room.

“When you see him after the cruise, tell him how you feel and if he isn’t honest with you then forget him for wasting your time.”

Her words repeated in your head, thats one thing you could depend on her for. Telling you what you needed to hear, no matter how much you hated it. Looking out on the balcony from the comfort of your bed, the sun was long gone and the moon shined on the ocean. You contemplated going out to the deck party but you didn’t want to push your luck, you were convinced you were one shot away from throwing up if you didn’t recover properly.

“I guess drinking my problems away only does so much.” You smack your pillow over your face.

A banging was irritating you and the tv wasn’t doing enough. Getting out the bed you drink some water from the fridge and the banging continues, at this point it wasn’t in your head. Looking around, you figured that it was coming from the balcony door. Opening the locked door, you’re immediately backed into the room.

“I can handle those little outfits you wear but body shots is where I draw the line.” He says as he locks the door behind him.

“How did you get here?” You ask, jaw dropped.

“And you saw my story?” He looks at you from head to toe and shifts his stance.

“Of course I saw it. Me and 600 other people.” You nod.

“Why are you here? Did you get so horny, you had to track me down?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“No, don’t be ridiculous. Thats not the reason I came. I came because-“

“-Let me stop you right there. You came all this way somehow. Cut to the chase.” You tell him sternly with your finger placed against his lips, having a strong feeling he was on the verge of ranting.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, not making any moves yet.

“No, you cannot.”

Who were you kidding of course you wanted to kiss him, honestly kissing barely touched the surface of what you wanted him to do to you.

“I understand. My life was a mess the week you were away. I found out I was a potential royal air to Atlantis, my half brother reeked havoc on the surface, tried to kill me in a duel, I found my mom, became king and I had a few near death experiences on the way.”

That is hard to follow up. Staring at him, your jaw slightly drops to his summary.

“This all happened in a week?” You exclaim in clear bewilderment. Processing everything he said to you, you smile to him.

“You found your mom.”

He smirks, you know how much it means to him to finally be with his mom. He always talked about how he wanted to at least have a conversation with her, he wanted her to see his growth and now he finally has that.

“So you’re a king?” He hums to your question, “Hopefully they know what they’re in for,” He nudges you, chuckling at your remark. Noticing how close you are to him, your breathing slows.

“I thought about what you said and is that really what you think? I see you as a sex toy?” You take a steady step back, your mind sways in distaste at those words leaving his mouth.

“You can reassure me all you want but your actions say so much.”

The eye contact was intense, he was looking for a lie something that told him you were lying but there was nothing. You were telling the truth. At this he practically collapsed on the bed, his hands stabilizing himself on his knees.

“Y/n, I don’t know what to say. What can I say?” He laughs sarcastically to himself.

“I don’t see you as a sex toy. I never did. Ever. I just…I have issues and I know you deserve way better than what I have to give you. But I want you. I always did, still do and I tried to stop, move on but that didn’t work.”

He says pouring out his truth to you. You know exactly what he’s talking about. That long night you two shared together, he lost his restraint? Pushing his hair back, he watches as your face goes through so much realization at once.

“I can work on my commitment issues. I can grow, I can mature. I will do whatever I possibly can to be a fraction of the man you need.”

You’ve never heard him speak about his feelings and issues so much. When you tried he would always change the subject but he was facing it head on. Whatever he’s been through definitely changed him for the better.

“Arthur.”

His name lingers on your lips as you move closer, standing directly in front of him. Doing your best to hold back tears, you take a breath.

“I-I…” The words couldn’t manifest on your tongue as you burst into tears. Wiping the tears away, you see him staring at you and embarrassment fills your whole being.

“I’m sorry. I need a moment.” You go to the bathroom in a rush.

Looking in the mirror, you shake your head. Crying in front of him had to be a new low. In the two years, you’ve cried over the whole mess of a relationship you both had, if you can even call it that, but you never cried in front of him. At all. He sat in shock. What did he say? Did he say the wrong things? His mother told him to speak from the heart and thats what he did. The whole thing is so overwhelming. When you saw him, you were determined to break things off but now you can’t bring yourself to do it. As corny as it might sound, it would feel like a piece of you was taken if you were to do it. Pulling yourself together, you grab a tissue, open the door and there he was ready to knock.

“I’m at a lost for words,” You sniffle, blowing your nose, “I was holding onto this for two years, just to hear you say that as I was ready to break this off.” He backs up as you get out the bathroom. His face visually drained, the optimism he had before now disappeared.

“Do you mean it?” You hiccup and he perks up, “I don’t want you saying all this to get in my pants.” You point to him and he puts his hands up, shaking his head.

“I mean it. I do. Sex didn’t even cross my mind.” You grace him with a small smile, complimented with puff eyes and tear stains.

Slowly he cups your cheeks, wiping your face with his thumbs. Leaning into you, he kisses the top of your head and hugs you. Rapping your arms under his arms, he holds you tightly and close to his chest. Stroking your head.

“I’m so glad you’re safe.” He mutters into your bonnet. The embrace was loving as if he was deathly afraid of losing you.

“I don’t want you to keep crying so let's stop talking about feelings for now.” You chuckle into his chest, looking up to him.

“I agree.”

You both figured things out yet tension was still in the air. Jealousy was somehow in the air. Shifting his head down, he kisses you. It’s no mediocre or shy kiss it was demanding and wanting. He was fully in the moment and so were you. Moving your arms up, you hooked them around his neck and he moved his down to your waist. Forcing his tongue in your mouth, he takes a breath through his nose. Drinking you in, squeezing your waist to make sure this moment is real. He went through so much just to recognize a great woman like you and understand not to let you go. This is the perfect moment. The moment for him to prove himself to you in this new relationship. Breaking away from the kiss, you hum as you lean your head back.

His kisses trail down your neck. Erratic patterns all over it, with the way he’s moving you know the hickeys will be more than visible even with your melanin skin. His touch is burning on your cold skin, you’re convinced steam is radiating off you with every touch and kiss.

“mm, arthur.”

You breathe out, sigh of relief leaving your lips as your shorts slide down your legs. He stops briefly, making sure you want this. Looking down to you, tenderness is seen in his eyes.

“touch me arthur.” You strip your skimpy shirt, revealing the matching set he was teasing you about.

“Keep talking to me like that and you might not like what I do.” He smiles, gripping you by the thighs and dumping you on the bed.

“This is your favorite color isn’t it?” You tempt him, the green lace on your body the physical representation of temptation.

The amount of wetness piling up in your underwear clearly amusing and exciting him as you hear a grunt rumble from his chest. Eyeing your body with a burning flame and pouncing on you, crawling on top of you. The bikini line that shows under your bra, your brown skin turning a shade darker from the sun, your tired hungover gaze and your curves. The dips on either side of your hips, the little chub on your stomach thats perfectly proportionate to your thighs and your soft shiny skin.

He notices everything, the inside of your thighs were calling to him, blinding him with the sparkly trail of wetness that left your cunt, your cute aching cunt. He shouldn’t be rewarding you, he thought, he should be punishing you for leaving him with a painful boner every time he saw you. But punishing is for another day, tonight is all about making everything up to you. Goodness are you attractive, your beauty alone makes him forget about every problem, every responsibility he has. All he thinks about is you when you’re in his view. He ran his hands over your body, soft touches from your knees to the inside of your thighs to tight squeezes at the sides of your stomach to light rubbing on your arms.

Reaching behind your back, he unclips your bra taking a good look at your breasts as he throws the clothing to the side. His hands cup your chest and you roll your eyes, slapping your hands on top of his to ensure he doesn’t move them. A cocky smirk plays at his lips as he leans down into your ear.

“tell me what you want,” he breaths lowly against your cheek, a moan falling from your lips as his knee nudges your clit.

“I want you to fuck me. Fuck me into the sheets. Please, please, pretty please.”

Your desperation meets no ends as you immediately beg him, you’ve experienced his strokes before, you know what you’re in for and thats what makes this even more of a tease.

"I guess I should give you what you want. Since you asked so nicely.”

You nod repeatedly as finger plays with the hem of your underwear. Yanking them down your legs, you kick them down, flinging them off them bed. You make things too easy for him, who needs foreplay when you’re so wet. Pushing a finger in your tight hole, its goes in without a problem. Unbuckling his pants, he takes them off and pushes them to the floor. Cock on full display for you, rubbing his soaked finger on the head of his dick, his breath shuddered. Pumping his dick a few times, he makes sure he’s his hardest for you before lining up with your hole.

You tap your stomach in anticipation, waiting patiently to be filled up with his big cock. Pushing through your squeezing he groans, halfway through he stops to take a few deep breaths.

“I missed your hole.” He grunts lowly, sounding pussy drunk when not even his tip is inside.

“Your pretty little pussy.”

His hand reaches down rubbing your clit as he hastily bullies his way inside your gummy walls. Your toes curl at the stretch and you feel the coil in your tummy winding up with each moment he's inside you.

“no one...m'..can fuck- fuck me like you.”

You gasp as he leans down, moving out of you and pushing in, he smirks. You’ve been craving this even if you never wanted to admit it out loud, you were singing like a canary for him and he couldn’t have loved it more.

“miss me, baby?” His hips pulled back and snapped forward, finally finding a sinful stroke.

He was knocking into you like he didn’t travel thousands of miles to see you on this boat. Speaking of, the rough currents of the deepest waters couldn’t touch the way he thirstily thrusted into you. The hangover will be the least of your worries later. Tightening your legs around his waist, your nails move across his back, threatening to break the skin barrier, shortened moans leaving your lips as wind is knocked out of your lungs with every move of his hips. He was determined to fuck that bonnet off your head so he can pull on your braids, making you tell him you love him, he knows you do. Why would you put so much effort into a person and relationship if you didn’t, but he was executing this step by step.

“w-wow.. A-arthur.” Your core was twisting and churning, your fingers could not match up to the climax you’re about to get from this man. His words are now registering to you.

“I did…m-miss you. Oh fuck. Yes! I did.” You whine in his arms, his hand tries pushing your legs down, all you can do is smile as he looks you in the eyes. Trapping him in a tight hold, your cunt soaks his dick, his tip curving and scraping the top of your g spot. Your nails scratched down his entire back as you came down from your high, moaning.

Prying your legs off him, he sits up, resting them on his shoulders. All the while watching as your face twists up from the sensitivity, the skin slapping matched with his balls hitting your ass over and over makes you want to stay on this boat forever.

“You’re so tight. Loosen up a little.” He asks as his movements slow down, he knows you’re doing it on purpose now.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says referring to him getting lost in you, shaking your head you grab his hand and interlock your fingers.

“its okay…” You smile to him and your hooded eyes gave away how dick drunk you are but if you say you’re okay then you’re okay. Keeping the slow pace, he pounds into you. The position mocked missionary and your soul honestly can’t take anymore of him staring into you with his piercing eyes. His other hand made its way to your head as he flipped you into another position, pulling off your bonnet and he holds onto your braids.

“Arthur!” You wince, head being pulled back and your back forced to arch, he had you on all fours. Right where he wanted you.

“do you have to be…this rough?” You whine and grunt as he holds your braids tighter. He’s considerate of where to pull your hair, so he doesn’t yank out your braids.

“What makes you think you don’t deserve it? I could do much worse. If you want that.” He says to you in between pants, his voice hitting a dangerous low in your ear. The promising opportunity leaving a smirk on your lips. Hitting your high once again, your body tingles all over, it felt like butterflies but more intense. Its confusing, isn’t it a tad bit too late for butterflies at this rate? he’s literally inside you.

“Tell me something.” He gathers your attention, pulling you completely out of your bliss and thoughts as his pace reaches a halt.

“And don’t lie to me.” He speaks deeply into your right ear, a message only meant for you to hear as his hand goes down and cups your mound.

“Do you love me?”

You bite your tongue, wincing at the pain. Out of all the things he could say…he said that.

“Is now really the time-“ You turn your head to the side, able to see him out the corner of your eye.

“Yes. Now is the time.” His expression is neutral, no joking or anything of the sorts, he is 100% looking for a truthful answer. You sigh.

“I do love you.”

The silence consumed the both of you as you stood on the bed in fucking position. Was that the answer he’s looking for?

“Say it again.”

He demands, rubbing on your clit as he grips your hair tightly.

“I love you.”

You bite back moaning the words, your fingers tangling in the sheets more and more.

“Again.”

Your legs cross at the ankles as you forcefully squeeze him in you, his fingers on your clit isn’t nearly enough.

“I love you, Arthur.” You exclaim, swallowing heavily and he shifts forward, his beard tickling your shoulder and cheek.

“I love you too.” He says in your ear, a smirk painted on his lips, as he kisses your cheek, neck and shoulder. Taking in a deep breath, you grin.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ﹤⋆

Breathing in and out, you sniffle at the hair that went up your nostril. Moving the hair out your face, you shift on the pillow, basically hiding your face in it. Nothing registered for you yet, for all you care its a regular morning in bed. A slight chill on your neck causes you to shrug and blink your eyes open, turning over your eyes focus on the surroundings.

“Look who’s finally awake.” She says in an sarcastic tone, looking up from scrolling on her phone.

“when did you get back?” You ask in a whisper, your throat sore as hell.

“Last night, although I had to take a detour because of all the ruckus you were making in here.”

She was definitely waiting for you to wake up to tease you. Letting out a short embarrassed giggle, you wave her off.

“you sound like an old lady.” She chuckles at your comment and sighs.

“could you pass me a shirt, I’m pretty naked.” Aria throws a shirt at your head, slipping it on, you sit up and look next to you. Arthur is passed out cold with a raging case of bedhead, the sight is one to be photographed and framed. Stretching and rolling your shoulders, you blink slowly as if your brain is still mush.

“Never thought I’d see the day where an underwear would be flung on my bed.”

You laugh, holding your stomach as she points to the panties she placed on the table in-between both beds.

“So thats where I kicked it.” Getting out the bed, you grab the underwear and put it with your dirty stuff, putting on new undies.

“What time is it?” You ask, picking up the clothes on the floor, folding his up nicely and placing them on the foot of the bed.

“11:42” You nod, stifling a yawn as you scratch your head.

“What on earth did you do to him?”

She utters, genuinely concerned as she stands over him, eyeing the visible hickeys, bites and marks all over him.

“Someone was hungry.”

“Do you ever get tired of teasing me.”

You ask, half rhetorical and half serious. Lifting up to stretch your stiff limbs as you watch her movements.

“Nope, you know what else I never get tired of?”

“Wine.” Your tired voice mixed with her joyous voice in a harmonious yet comedic way.

“So if you’ll excuse me, I have a wine tasting to get to.”

She grabs her purse and waves you off as she leaves the room. A sharp pain hits you in your bladder and you run to the bathroom. As you use the toilet, the pain leaves your stomach and you go back into the room.

“Good morning.” His raspy morning voice just makes you want to crawl under his skin.

“Good morning.” You shoot him a warm smile as he motions you to come closer. Standing by the bed, he reaches up and traces your jawline, rubbing your chin with his finger tips.

Pulling you down to his level to kiss you tenderly, a low moan leaving your lips, his hand moving up underneath your shirt to squeeze your hip.

“How are you feeling?” He breaks the kiss, sits up and off the bed in his boxers.

“I’m good, my stomach is hurting a bit but I’ll live.”

“Where is it hurting?” He helps you lift up your shirt and watches as you point to the area below your belly button.

“Somewhere here.” You grunt softly, accidentally touching the sore spot.

“Here?”

You shake your head.

“Here?”

You see what he’s doing, one hand trying to point out the problem and the other caressing your back, making its way to your butt.

“Here??”

He stares at your stomach, glancing at you for a moment, making you chuckle and utter a no. Your eyes go wide as he gropes your ass, playfully grabbing his wrist, you shake your head.

“You’re not slick.” You chuckle with him.

“Relax, I’m trying to assess your situation, so be a good patient and stay still.” He cackles mid sentence and finds his composure.

“The whore is jumping out, Arthur.” He bursts out laughing as you reach up to fix his hair, pulling down your shirt, you put on your shorts and point to his clothes.

“Let’s get some breakfast, I’m hungry.”

You tell him as your stomach rumbles. Putting on his clothes from last night, he turns to you as he messes with his hair.

“I’ll have to leave soon.” He warns you and you nod.

“Time is money then.” You grin, grabbing your phone and walking to the door with him close behind, before you open the door he spins you around.

“I love you.”

He gives you a kiss on the cheek and one on your lips.

“I love you too.”

You kiss him back several times as if you weren’t sure the others were up to par.

“Alright now we can go.” He says while opening the door for you and putting on some shades.

“Is that mine?” You ask as you walk through the hallway to the elevators, fingers interlocked.

“Yeah.”

writing list

802 notes · View notes

tbgblr2 · 4 months

Text

The Life of the Witch (Prologue)

My name is Juliana Dumont and I’m a witch.

I don’t know why I’m writing this down – perhaps a form of therapy? I don’t know.

What the average person doesn’t know is that witches are real. We exist. We’re just very rare. I’ve never met another of my kind since my own mother died – and left me with my powers.

I was born Goodie Smith, child of Constance Smith, in the year 1735. I was 50 years old when my mother passed her gift to me, and I awakened.

I know others are out there – I can feel them. There were seven of us – now there are only five. The seven deadly sins form the basis of our existence. The witch of sloth was killed in her sleep, and the witch of envy was killed in a fight between two love rivals. None of this ‘witch trial’ and burning nonsense. That was simply putting some poor, unfortunate women to their death because the patriarchy at the time could do it with impunity.

I suppose technically I am the witch of lust. And let me tell you, every month I feel that lust with an intensity I simply cannot control.

I should also say that we are immortal in a sense. We do not age, we do not contract diseases. We can be killed by being burned alive, or having our heads separated from our bodies – that's been proven on two occasions now - but otherwise we would be able to eventually heal from even the most grievous of wounds.

This is where procreation becomes difficult. We’re all female, we desire to have children… but the act of having a child is difficult in that child would be mortal as any other, and we would suffer to watch them grow old and die as we sat ageless in front of them. Only the voluntary – or involuntary – death of the mother passes both the magic, and the memories of the mother onto her offspring. I remember my entire family line. I have birthed many babies, I have outlived many babies… and right now my ovaries are screaming that it is my time.

The lady sat back in her chair and snapped her fingers then closed the book she was writing in. In the kitchen behind her, a commotion started to take place – dishes rose from cupboards, cutlery flew from drawers, food piled onto a plate. The plate carrying a sandwich flew through the air to rest, lightly, on the desk in front of her, followed a few moments later by a steaming hot cup of coffee. She smiled. She knew she was blessed, she knew life was easy… but if she has a gift, why waste it not using it.

As she ate her meal, she picked up her phone. “Ahh… 8pm New York… seems like the perfect time” she muttered to herself. A black cat rose its head up from a sleeping position down by her feet.

“Don't be back late, I’ve a fancy for a special meal tonight.” came the voice directly into her head without the cat seemingly moving its lips.

“I won't sweetie… just a little… errand… to run.”

It’s unclear exactly where the pair were at, but it was daylight and it certainly wasn't 8pm that's for certain.

She finished the sandwich and once again clicked her fingers – the cup and plate flew off to a sink which slowly filled with soapy water as the cutlery and crockery washed itself, dried itself and put itself away. She didn't even need to watch it at this point as she strode across the room and into her bedroom.

Another click of her fingers and her clothes fell to the floor, bundled themselves up and folded themselves into a neat little pile. She stood there naked, eyes looking up and down her form. Lust was certainly a factor in her physique. She had a lithe body, but with wide, womanly hips, and a perfect hourglass figure, complemented by large, incredibly pert breasts. She had no need of mechanical support by way of a bra… she had magic on her side to keep things up.

Blowing herself a kiss in the mirror, she clicked her fingers again and her hair bundled itself up into a bun, leaving two strands to hang down either side of her hair. A pair of fashionable glasses appeared on her nose – purely cosmetic of course, and her lips tinged rosy and red.

Finally another click of her fingers and a red, flowing dress swooshed out of her closet, wrapped itself around her and hugged every inch of her body. She couldn't help but grin as the side slit, cut so scandalously high than it had any right to be, refused to move to reveal what she was wearing for underwear even when she stretched her leg out in front of her. Of course, she knew she wasn't wearing any, but always good to keep the men folk guessing.

Finally, with a last glance over her shoulder as she spun in place admiring herself in the mirror, she clicked her fingers once more and with an audible pop, she disappeared.

She appeared in an alleyway, just around the corner from a nightclub which she knew was a hit among the student population of the local university. She saw perfectly even in the low light of the evening, groups of men wandering up to the doorman, being let in. Her eyes not focusing on any particular one, but the heat radiating from between her legs becoming almost unbearable. She had to move, had to act.

This was an upscale neighbourhood, her high-class appearance and expensive appearing clothes would blend in well with the locals. Stepping out she strode toward the doorman, watching his eyes – even behind his dark shades – watch her approach with rapt attention.

“Could you let me in please handsome!” she smiled a wicked smile to the doorman, who pulled open the door for her.

“Here all by yourself?” he asked.

“Hopefully not for long” she cackled.

Following the crowds to the bar area, she swished her hand and two people standing side by side suddenly decided to leave, giving her perfect chance to slip into the front of the crowd and smile at the girl behind the bar.

“Anything you want?” she asked.

“Right now I can think of a few things, but start me off with something alcoholic and fruity.”

“OK coming right up” she nodded as she set to work.

The witch felt a presence slotting into the space she left next to her, so she turned to the side to be greeted by the muscled chest of some sort of jock. Looking up past her eye level, she was relieved to see that the person accompanying that chest wasn’t half bad on the eyes either. Just need to make sure he wasn’t a complete asshole now…

“Let me get that” he bellowed, making sure the girl serving the drink heard. She gave him a thumbs up. “And a whiskey, on the rocks!” A nod from the lady behind the bar.

“Why thank you” purred our witch, her voice sultry. “Were you hoping for anything else?”

“No ma’am… just waiting for my friends to arrive and spied a nice slot at the bar. Then spied a nice bar-mate. I’m Jack.”

“Charmed… you can call me Jill.” She saw no point in giving him her real name and thought the play on words for the nursery rhyme would fit well – she wouldn't ever see him again after this night, but she thought she should have one she could easily remember just in case things got a little hot and heavy.

Of course a little touch of magic, a little bit of flirtation, and he was hers for the next hour. His friends arrived, and seeing him in non-stop discussion with the lady at the bar decided to leave him to it.

3-4 drinks later and they were both merry to the point of touching flirtatiously. He brushed back one of the loose strands of hair framing her face, tucking it behind her ear as she leaned forward and kissed him. Her hand hovered over his drink and rubbed her fingers together as she cast a spell to bolster him.

He picked it up and gulped a mouthful, suddenly feeling his cock spring hard against his trousers.

“Is that for me?” the witch sounded coy but it was all she was focused on. Her knee drifted lazily back and forth over the bump in his trousers. For poor Jack he was bewildered, never having this level of reaction before.

“Lets put it to good use.” with that she stepped back from the bar, holding him by the hand as she lead him towards a hotel next door. He followed obediently, entranced by her magic as she walked into the lobby, past the doorman with a wave, up to the lift and pressed a button for a floor. She leaned back seductively as she arched her shoulders back, her breasts straining against the fabric of her dress as the lift continued to climb.

“Like what you see?” she was playing now, he was under her control, no matter what the poor man honestly thought, he was her property, until she chose to let him go.

With a ding the lift doors opened and the two of them wandered forward down the hallway. She looked left and right looking for a room. Finally settling on a number, she swayed her hand in front of the lock and pushed the door, the warm light of a readied room waiting for their approach.

She wasted no time, pulling him forcefully into the room. She turned around and kneeled in front of him, pulling down his trousers and underwear as she lowered herself. His cock sprung out from its containment and she grinned.

“Is all that for little old me? My, my, I have been a good girl!”

Jack looked down and gasped – his manhood was twice as girthy as he remembered, and a good 3 inches longer. It was massive. He didn't know what was happening, but her hands wrapped around the shaft and teasing the precum out from the tip settled things – he would go with it and worry about it later.

He tugged off his top and leaned forward, running his hands down inside the fabric of her dress. She moaned… and as a result, his cock jumped, it would have slapped her in the face if she hadn't had hold of it.

“I’ve had desert, I want the main course!” she growled, standing up. She pulled forward on the dress, an act that normally would have resulted in it being torn to shreds, but it appeared to peel away from her and settle in a heap on the floor. She was naked and ready to play. As she paced back towards the bed – pulling Jack by his cock to make him follow, the dress folded itself behind their backs.

She spun him around and pushed him onto the bed as she climbed up onto him, letting out a squealing groan as she settled onto his cock, her wetness between her legs apparent.

Jack managed as gasping “condom…” as she slid down the shaft.

“Not tonight sweetie. I want to feel this monster for what it is. Don't you worry your pretty little head, I’m on the pill.” she lied.

He couldn't care less at this point, his head lolled back as she bottomed out on his cock, her own grunt of pain suggesting she had made him perhaps a mite too large. Oh well, it’s good to feel it happen.

She bounced up and down, her hands rubbing up and down his chest. He found her rhythm and bucked his hips as she bounced, resulting in every thrust of his ass prodding her deeply, her wincing, moaning grunts, and short stabs of pain making her lose herself more and more in the moment.

Without warning, she latched her knees into his torso and spun, so she was on the bottom and he was on the top. Her legs crossing behind him to keep him in tight to her. He moaned. She knew he was close, he was twitching inside of her.

“Thats it, cum in me. I want to feel you flood me. Give me your cum.”

Jack suddenly held his breath as his vision clouded and his eyes rolled back, lost in the carnal act of procreation. He let out 3 large spurts of cum, his own perineum quivering as he felt it contract and release over and over.

The witch was left in orgasmic bliss as she felt the semen flood her. She could do nothing but hold on tight and shiver as her body took over. She could actually feel it shoot up past her cervix and into her womb, onto the journey to meet the egg she had released just that morning. She focused on the collection of sperm cells and gave them a boost, willing them on to their target with a tiny bit of magical assistance.

The couple were left a panting mess as she unhooked her leg from behind him and rolled over, eyeing his still engorged cock. Leaning forward she took it in her mouth and sucked, announcing through parted lips “Who knew we tasted this good together.”

She moved her head up his body and kissed him on the lips as she hovered her hand over the pole between his legs and it shrunk back to its original size. She looked down. Still impressive… but she was glad that she could make it more.

Touching his eyes, she felt him sleep, as he slumped back onto the bed. She got up and clicked her fingers, her dress jumping up and forming back around her, dregs of Jack’s semen dribbling down her leg.

She scooped it up and put it in her mouth. “We do taste good.”

She probed his mind, finding out where he lived. Easily picking him up in his still sleeping state, both of them disappeared from the room and suddenly appeared in his bedroom. Tucking him into bed, still naked, his clothes folded up in front of her eyes and dropped onto the floor. She touched his forehead and took away all memories of what happened, instead implanting thoughts that he had too much to drink and went home to sleep it off. With a gentle kiss on the forehead and a whisper of “thanks” she disappeared again.

She appeared a moment later with a grin as she saw her familiar Seline, or more specifically, her ass, wrapped in an apron – that being the only clothes she was wearing. She had the ability to transform between a human and a cat at will, and had become the witch’s confidant, lover, advisor and closest friend over the years. Her natural form was a cat, but she had been granted the ability to transform into a human mainly for the witch’s benefit – she was a surprisingly capable cook considering her origins, and a careful and attentive lover.

“That smells beautiful. What is it?” the witch called out.

“No… you first. You’ve been fucking. I can smell him on you. Cats have a good sense of smell remember. Give me the gossip” came the reply.

“OK, you’ve got me there. I just had a roll in the hay with some gorgeous man who filled me up. Give it a few hours and there may be some insemination action.”

“Shit… you’re finally going through with it. Your own heat finally beat mine.” As a cat, she had all the natural urges that a cat would have, including going into heat every few weeks during the peak times of the year. The witch found her fun to be around when she was clawing the walls trying to relieve that bit of stress, that's for certain.

“I don't know if I'll actually keep the kid, or send her for adoption… don’t think I'm ready for the ultimate journey just yet. Suppose I have 9 months to decide.”

The witch moved forward and wrapped her arms around the belly of Seline, breathing in the smells from the cooking. “So… I asked a question… what is it?”

“Mmmm…” Seline moaned. “If it happens, you won't be able to do that with a big belly in the way. It’s fish by the way. I mean I’m a cat, what did you expect when I said I had a special meal planned.”

The witch laughed, but her mouth was watering at the smells of the food. “I don't think ‘If it happens’ is a good suggestion, but ‘when.’ I used magic to reinforce the sperm, it's basically a guarantee they reach their destination.”

Seline spun around, breaking the witch’s grip around her midsection. “Shit, please don't tell me you did what you just told me you did.” The witch looked confused. “You know the rules. All natural when it comes to babies. Magic can’t interfere. Creating life is sacred.”

“No… not a baby yet… just sperm and an egg, all separate.” She thought back through her ancestral memories, and not one single one of her memories had another witch trying what she had done. “Fuck… what will happen?”

Seline shook her head. “No idea, but there's nothing you can do about it now, let's eat and think about it later.”

#fpreg #pregnancy

23 notes · View notes

keirawantstocry · 7 months

Note

Tnt duo playing poker<3 homoerotic banter ensues (is that the right word?)

yessssss homoeroticccc

Wilbur wasn't looking at his cards. All he could look at was the man in front of him, dark hair being pushed out of his eyes and back under the beanie he was never seen without, eyes scanning his cards carefully before glancing at the bet pile.

The dealer was watching both of them.

"Call," Quackity said, folding the cards to his chest and pushing forward some of his poker chips.

The dealer placed another card in the center of the table. Wilbur finally glanced down at the cards. He was going to crash and burn but he wanted to drag this out a bit more.

He whistled, looking up at Quackity who was already looking at him. "You're definitely gonna want to fold after this."

Quackity raised a single eyebrow at him. "Personally I think you'll be the one folding. You can't keep up this act forever."

Wilbur hooked two fingers inside the collar of his shirt and pulled it out, sighing a bit. "What act, darling? This is all me."

Quackity laughed. "Do you really think you're fooling anyone with this cocky attitude? I can feel the desperation for attention dripping off you with every statement."

Wilbur scoffed. "You're one to talk. How many partners have you been through this month?"

Unexpectedly the insult seemed to slide right off of Quackity. "How many have you had? Oh, my bad, I forgot nobody can stand to be seen with you."

Wilbur gritted his teeth and looked down at his cards once more. "Raise."

Both of Quackity's eyebrows shot up as Wilbur pushed forward the last of his chips. He cocked his head and gave him a devious grin. "Ready to fold, amor?"

Quackity visibly shuddered. Interesting. "Don't call me that."

"Why? Like it too much, mi amor? Mi vida?"

"Shut the fuck up. I'm going all in."

Wilbur clicked his tongue. "Ooo, rash decision, querido. Am I getting under your skin?"

"Never."

"Well, at least let me under your clothes then."

"Fuck you."

yeahd and then they have gay sex :]

#my writing #tnt duo #fanfiction #tntduo #c!quackity #c!wilbur soot #quackbur #fic reqs

32 notes · View notes

mybeautifulchristianjourney · 2 months

Text

The Beauty of the Temple

1 The Lord spoke his word through Haggai the prophet on the twenty-first day of the seventh month. This is what the Lord said: 2 “Speak to Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah. Speak also to Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest. And speak to the rest of the people who were left alive. Say: 3 ‘Do any of you who are still alive remember how beautiful the Temple was before it was destroyed? What does it look like now? The truth is it means nothing to you!’ 4 But the Lord says: ‘Zerubbabel, be brave. Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest, be brave. And all you people who live in the land, be brave,’ says the Lord. ‘Work, because I am with you,’ says the Lord of heaven’s armies. 5 ‘I made a promise to you when you came out of Egypt. My Spirit is still with you. So don’t be afraid.’

6 “This is what the Lord of heaven’s armies says: ‘In a short time I will shake the heavens and earth once again. And I will shake the sea and the dry land. 7 I will shake all the nations. All the nations will bring their wealth. Then I will fill this Temple with glory,’ says the Lord of heaven’s armies. 8 ‘The silver is mine, and the gold is mine,’ says the Lord of heaven’s armies. 9 ‘The new Temple will be more beautiful than the one that was destroyed,’ says the Lord of heaven’s armies. ‘And in this place I will give peace to the people,’ says the Lord of heaven’s armies.”

10 The Lord spoke his word to Haggai the prophet. This was on the twenty-fourth day of the ninth month. It was in the second year that Darius was king of Persia. This is what the Lord said: 11 “This is what the Lord of heaven’s armies says: ‘Ask the priests what the teachings say. 12 A person might carry meat made holy for the Lord in the fold of his clothes. And that fold might touch bread, cooked food, wine, olive oil or some other food. Will the thing the fold touches be made holy for the Lord, too?’”

The priests answered, “No.”

13 Then Haggai said, “A person who touches a dead body will become unclean. If he touches any of these foods, will it become unclean, too?”

The priests answered, “Yes. It would become unclean.”

14 Then Haggai answered, “The Lord says this: ‘This is also true for the people of this nation. They are unclean, and everything they do with their hands is unclean to me. If these people offer something at the altar to me, it is also unclean.

15 “‘Think about this from now on! Think about how it was before you started piling stones on top of stones. Think about how it was before you started building the Temple of the Lord. 16 A person used to come to a pile of grain expecting to find 20 basketfuls. But there were only 10. And a person used to come to the wine vat to take out 50 jarfuls. But only 20 were there. 17 I destroyed your work with diseases, mildew and hail. But you still did not come to me.’ The Lord says this. 18 ‘It is the twenty-fourth day of the ninth month. On this day the people finished working on the foundation of the Temple of the Lord. From now on, think about these things: 19 Do you have seeds for your crops already in the barn? No! Your vines and trees are not giving fruit yet, either. You don’t have any figs, pomegranates or olives yet. But from now on I will bless you!’”

The Lord Makes a Promise to Zerubbabel

20 Then the Lord spoke his word a second time to Haggai. It was on the twenty-fourth day of the month. This is what the Lord said: 21 “Tell Zerubbabel, the governor of Judah: ‘I am going to shake the heavens and the earth. 22 I will destroy the foreign kingdoms. I will take away the power of the kingdoms of the nations. I will destroy the chariots and their riders. The horses will fall with their riders. People will kill each other with swords.’ 23 The Lord of heaven’s armies says this: ‘On that day I will take you, Zerubbabel son of Shealtiel, my servant.’ The Lord says this: ‘I will make you important like my signet ring. This is because I have chosen you!’ says the Lord of heaven’s armies.” — Haggai 2 | International Children’s Bible (ICB) The Holy Bible, International Children’s Bible® Copyright© 1986, 1988, 1999, 2015 by Thomas Nelson. Cross References: Exodus 19:4; Leviticus 22:4; Deuteronomy 17:8; Deuteronomy 28:22; Deuteronomy 32:29; Judges 7:22; 1 Kings 8:11; 1 Chronicles 24:18; 1 Chronicles 29:14; Ezra 3:2; Ezra 3:10; Ezra 3:12; Psalm 85:8; Psalm 128:1; Proverbs 15:8; Song of Solomon 8:6: Isaiah 5:10; Isaiah 9:6-7; Ezekiel 21:27; Haggai 1:1; Zechariah 1:1; Matthew 23:19; Acts 7:9; Hebrews 12:26-27

Commentary on Haggai 2 by Matthew Henry

#second temple #greater glory #defiled people #blessing #Zerubbabel #the Lord's Signet Ring #Haggai 2 #Book of Haggai #Old Testament #ICB #International Children's Bible #Thomas Nelson

2 notes · View notes

herohikara-wol · 1 year

Text

FFXIV Write 2k23 - Day 17 (Late)

Pick Your Own (Rumor Mill) - Modern Day College AU

“I need to move out of the dorms by tomorrow, what am I supposed to do?” Hero’s clothes were half packed and mostly on his bed, but Zenos still found amusement in watching his roommate pace about the room, weaving around their suitcases and boxes as he did. “What do you mean figure it out? Why can’t I just go to Thavnair with you?” Another pause as he clearly listened to his mother’s reply- of course it was his mother. Tetsu wouldn’t have been nearly as blunt about things. Zenos had heard from both of them over the course of the semester. “Did you have to sell my apartment then, the deadline for requesting to stay on campus was last week! Why couldn’t this have waited until next moon?”

Hero only knew that because of Asahi. Zenos resumed packing now that Hero was in the bargaining stages of his fight with his parents’ choices. Asahi had permission to remain in the dorms until next semester due to trouble in his family. The trouble being his parents attempting to force him into an arranged marriage to keep him from dating another man. They couldn’t marry him off if he wasn’t there to sign the contracts, it had worked for his elder sister. She was going on five years of burning any mail she got from their parents and had been the one to advise him to remain away from home as long as possible.

“Yes, okay, I’ll figure it out. Fine. Goodbye.” Hero hung up only to fling himself onto the pile of freshly laundered clothes and poorly folded sheets on his bed. “I’m fucked.”

“You just need a place to stay during winter break, yes?” Zenos looked carefully over at his roommate, weighing the options in his mind.

“Yes, and apparently their current employer doesn’t have space for an extra person. They sold my apartment because they’re planning to put down roots in Thavnair for at least three years and the apartment lease says they can’t sublet it and someone needs to be occupying it at all times to minimize risk of things like pipes freezing and whatnot.” He grabbed his pillow and put it over his face to scream into it for a few moments before throwing it back at the wall. “I’m fucking homeless. Fantastic.”

“My family has room.” That wasn’t exactly a lie, just not the whole truth. The Garlean Royal family palace most certainly could accommodate Hero. Hell, it could accommodate their entire dorm floor without too much trouble. However, in the time Zenos had known Hero he’d been pleasant. Friendly, willing to allow the prince his privacy, and hadn’t asked about his parents, his position as crown prince, or even indicated he cared about any of it. He made Zenos feel normal to be around, the closest thing he’d had to a friend all his life. Friends helped their friends when they were in need, right?

“Shouldn’t you ask your dads first or something? I don’t want to impose and basically take up your family’s guest room without them having some kind of warning. That’d be pretty rude, right? Like, I know you’re rich but still, there’s a limit.” Of course, it helped that Hero regularly forgot he was royalty.

“Would you do the same for me if you had the means?” The viera pouted a little, like he’d been backed into a corner. “Exactly. Hero, I insist. Finish packing, I’m calling my travel agent to get you booked for my flight back to Garlemald tonight.”

“Fine, but only because I can’t afford to stay in a hotel for a whole month.” He grumbled but he couldn’t exactly turn Zenos down.

===============================================

“Announcing crown prince Zenos yae Galvus, and his guest, one Magpie Hikara.” Hero flinched when they announced his childhood name instead of the one he’d chosen for himself as an adult. Technically it was still his legal name, but Hero Shadeseer was his chosen name and it meant far more to him.

Zenos noticed the flinch and frowned at the steward, “Hero Shadeseer. Viera pick their own names upon reaching adulthood, he just hasn’t had the time to fill out the paperwork for it yet.”

“My apologies, my prince. Would you like me to have someone bring the paperwork to him?”

“I haven’t settled on it yet. I’m only twenty-four summers, many viera wait until they’ve finished college and started to get established in their careers to finalize their adult names.” He didn’t want Zenos to spend the whole month speaking for him, even if he appreciated someone advocating for him.

“Very well then, I will at least make sure the preference is noted to avoid the staff making cultural faux pas from here on.” The elezen left, making notes on a clipboard as he walked, leaving Zenos and Hero standing in the hall before the Emperor and his husband.

His ears drooped on instinct as the Emperor’s stern face and gold eyes seemed to look right through him, but his husband gave a warm smile and reached out to take his hand. “We’d heard Zenos made friends in college through the grapevine, but didn’t expect to meet one so soon! How was your flight, the servants took your bags already, yes? Come on, the dining room is this way. I know damn well you two didn’t get a proper meal in and you’re probably both tired from the trip. It’s, what, almost ten at night? A good meal and some sleep will do you both good.”

“Thank you sir? Your highness?” He looked up to Zenos for any indication of what to say or how to act, but Zenos was just boredly walking past him and following Varis to the dining room.

“Regula is fine, I promise. You know, for the son of a pair of high profile bodyguards, you’re rather awkward around royalty.” Hero inhaled sharply and let it out in a soft groan. Of course they already did a background check. Probably did it the moment he and Zenos were assigned to the same room.

“My parents did try to raise me with continuing the family business in mind, but I wasn’t cut out for the level of paranoia that comes with being a proper bodyguard. I was little more than a playmate for hire for some of the children of their clients. It got me a decent education, but I moved so much as a kid I didn’t really latch on to any one specific culture. I spent the longest in Ishgard but it isn’t exactly home either.”

“That’s why we chose you out of all the other potentials, we were hoping you’d give him the normalcy he craved. Zenos could have gone to school here and been treated like a proper prince the whole time, or at least gotten a private room off campus. He chose to live in the dorms like any other student.”

Hero wondered if they knew Zenos and him had spent the first two weeks bickering, fighting, and almost at each other’s throats until they realized they shared several hobbies and interests. Zenos had been a stuck up prick the first few weeks of the semester and Hero liked causing problems on purpose. Eventually he introduced Zenos to one of his old childhood playmates, Asahi, who was also going to school to get the fuck away from his high profile ambassador parents. The two hit it off and things started to fall into a comfortable pattern for the three of them.

“It was an adjustment, but Zenos is a pretty quiet person. I had to prod him into joining a club or two that weren’t sports clubs, but all in all I’ve grown kinda fond of him? He’s a good guy.” When he’s not being stand-offish because he’s run out of social battery, or when he’s not your opponent in anything where he’s suddenly a bloodthirsty competitive asshole. Hero had regrets about introducing Zenos to handheld console gaming, and more regrets about introducing him to fighting games.

“All the same, thank you for helping him. He’ll likely never say it, but that’s probably why he invited you to stay with us.” Hero hadn’t considered that he’d done anything Zenos would want to thank him for. He spent the whole night realizing that the invitation was Zenos feeling grateful for Hero’s friendship and company. The problem was figuring out how to keep it from coloring their current relationship, because the idea of having a friend so thankful for Hero just being himself that he’d go out of his way like this to help him in need was- he didn’t have a word for it.

So he rolled over in his plush comfy two sizes too big for a single person bed with ten times the pillows any normal person would need, and tried to fall asleep. Zenos was royalty here so they couldn’t just walk around the city like they could wander campus, so tomorrow he’d find a way to pull Zenos aside after breakfast and maybe plan something they could do to make the month pass by quicker. If only to keep him from being buried under royal duties and obligations, to give him a taste of normalcy in his own home.

================================================

It felt strange being woken by a servant, to be guided to the bath and see it drawn and already warm for him. Stranger still to have someone bring him his clothes freshly pressed, to do his hair for him, and guide him down the winding stairs to the dining room for breakfast with the family. He felt out of place before the massive regal Varis and the mildly detached Regula. Varis was reading the paper, every so often glancing up at the Viera before him and frowning. Regula was tapping away at his tomephone, humming softly to himself between asking Varis questions about the day’s plans. It felt cold and awkward and uncomfortable.

Zenos’ absence didn’t help.

When the prince finally joined them and pulled up his chair, Varis flipped through the paper again, folded it in half, and slid it over the table to his son. “You may want to plan around the paparazzi for the rest of your break. I don’t doubt you’re used to the way news spreads in the Empire, but I doubt your guest is prepared.”

Zenos frowned and looked at the paper before scoffing and sliding it to Hero wordlessly.

In brilliant color were three separate photos. One of Zenos taking off his coat, one of his draping the coat over Hero’s shoulders, and one of Zenos holding open the door of the royal car while Hero got into the back seat. “Fuck.” The headline was about the prince bringing home a girlfriend from college. Fair enough, it was dark out and snowing when they got out of the airport and Hero was notably androgynous. Still, it invoked a primal fear response in him. “We aren’t- I’m not- How do I correct them?”

Regula paused and gave Hero a sympathetic look, “you don’t, sadly. It’s gossip right now, are you two sure you’re not dating? Obviously we wouldn’t judge, Zenos is allowed to see whoever makes him happy.”

Zenos shook his head slightly before reaching for the jam to coat his toast in it. “We are roommates, as I told you. Hero’s helped me out of my comfort zone and dragged me into a few more social situations than I would have gotten into on my own, but we aren’t courting.”

Hero’s eyes darted between Zenos and Regula, then Zenos and Varis, and it didn’t go unnoticed. “Hero?”

Zenos wasn’t fast enough to silence him, “I’d never flirt with him behind Asahi’s back.” He heard Zenos inhale sharply beside him, but continued anyway. “Asahi’s room is attached to ours by the half-bath. They’ve been seeing each other since around midterms. I’m just his roommate I swear.”

“Useless.” Hero knew that tone of suffering in Zenos’ voice, “yes I am courting the son of the Doman Ambassadors. I didn’t think he’d be my type, but he surprised me, and we started out studying together. He helps me with my humanities courses, and I’ve been helping him with calculus. He listens to me in a way I’m not used to, it isn’t about my station with him. If he just wanted upwards mobility he wouldn’t be half as- I suppose- open with me about things.”

Hero hummed a bit, “I promise you, he’s being honest. I’m a bad liar but I’m really good at sniffing out lies. Asahi is head over heels for Zenos and they make such a cute couple. I’d never dream of breaking them up. Twelve fuck me, if he sees this article he’s going to be so upset…”

Varis finally relaxed his shoulders and sighed, “I see. Thank you both for being honest with us, Hero, I’ll make sure I assign someone to help you navigate how to handle the news and media crews that might try to bully things out of you since you clearly have no training for dealing with it. Zenos, if you’d like to give your boyfriend a warning that the rumor mill is spinning around you bringing a friend home from college? I suggest you do it before the news cycle starts spinning things out of control. Don’t worry too much boys, we’ll handle it. Just lay low for a few days until it peters out, alright?”

“Of course, Father. I suppose I’ll take Hero on a tour of the Palace Grounds today then, and we’ll plan to tour the city when you’ve handled the paparazzi.” Zenos’ plate was full of meats, breads and sweets. Compared to Hero’s own plate of mostly fruits, cheeses, and some meat and bread. Breakfast was a rather large affair for the family, or maybe this was just how royalty lived?

Either way he carefully handed the paper back over to Regula so the older man could hand it off to his husband. All he could do now was pray the rest of his trip went smoothly after this small hiccup.

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv fanfiction #College AU #Modern Day AU #Asahi x Zenos #Zenos yae Galvus x Asahi sas Brutus #And Hero's here too I guess #Varis x Regula #Varis zos Galvus x Regula van Hydrus

4 notes · View notes

kintsukuroi-babes · 1 month

Text

To morning N, from N last night.

(Context: I wrote this on note cards for him bcuz I was laughing at the crackheads outside my room and I wish I could share that funny moment with him but he was sleeping peacefully in my bed. I wrote all this, he read it and smiled and loved it when he woke up he woke up in such a good mood. This was a few months before he broke up w me bcuz I’m so “self destructive” and “hate myself”. He could never understand me and love me despite these flaws I am so hard on myself about and this is proof I warned him and tried so hard for him to get him to understand me. All I wanted ever was for him to understand and see me and love me anyways)

You’re literally the cutest thing ever. I’m just up doing laundry folding clothes and putting them in piles while your sleeping and I hear some crackheads yelling outside so I’m giggling at them trying to spy thru my blinds to see what’s going on and your just asleep I can’t stop laughing. I told you it was welfare day lol. But YOUU!❤️❤️❤️ are so adorable yenno. I’m playing my music in my room while your sound asleep I love it. Sometimes ->

You like turn in your sleep or rub your face and it’s so cute, I feel like such a creepy lil stalker watching when you move but I just wanna make sure it’s not bcuz of me. Anyway I love you so much I think you’re the cutest when you sleep I wanna go and kiss your face or wake you up but I’ll let my precious baby sleep. I can hear them, it’s def a couple I can literally hear them trying so hard for their lighter torch to work. They are entertaining me and sounds like they’re having fun. IDK. I love you with my whole heart dude, you make me smile, even when you sleep. ->

That couple is sitting in the alleyway and are literally 3ft away from my dads sleeping head lol. I think my dads so used to it it probably doesn’t matter. When you move I swear I think your eyes are gonna open but they never do. You like turn to face me like you’re gonna look at me but your eyes stay shut. While I was laughing at those crackheads you kept making that sound the quacking sound how you itch your throat it was so funny it was like a duck sound. I love you, your literally ->

My sleeping angel. Like I love you so much things I could say rn IDK. I’m so happy you can sleep normally, you look so at peace- I think I feel rly chaotic like I think I feel a lot at night rly intensely. Sometimes I look at you and want to tell you everything mostly at night, but I think it’s too much. It’s scary for me. I think during the day I can keep myself together and I keep a lot of my thoughts inside but night is so different to me. I can’t help it I wish I could help it somehow. Like sun and moon. Like I switch between 2 versions of myself everyday. I worry you’ll never meet her know her like how I think you should know that other side of me. I think it’s embedded in me to not share, but I want to with you. ->

That side-her. I hate her. But there’s no escape from it. I’m trying to accept but it’s like I’m fighting myself in my mind. OMG what is this turning into IDK! I think it’s bcuz you’re so peaceful and I feel so at peace and safe when you’re at peace. Like I could say anything and not scare you away. Like I’m just talking to myself I do that a lot. I feel like I don’t think anyone can ever get what I’m trying to say, or like no one has ever been in my head to get it fully. Only a few of my best friends have rly experienced my pin with me, so they have ->

Some idea of who I am, like all of me. All of the parts I’m ashamed of, all of the parts I hate and can’t recover from, all of the darkness that haunts me. The self destruction is a big one I think you need to know- I do that. Self sabotage too. Sometimes I think you’d be better off without me bcuz I’m definitely not a normal healthy person, and I am terrified of dragging you down. I’m scared of the future, and scared what if I’m not good enough for u bcuz you deserve the best there is, and there’s a whole universe out there lol. OMG NOOOOOO. Let me stop myself rn FUCKING STFU! I’m being WAYY too sad it’s not okay I’m just saying too many of my sad thoughts. ->

I guess sometimes I can be too much but I guess I want you to love me for everything I am, I think you do I just stress out and overthink. ANYWAY I love you it doesn’t even matter I treated as a diary and that’s it

I love you N, you have no idea.

0 notes

hyperfix-tangented · 10 months

Text

Messy Campsite

Heyo! I was bored and although brain fog is killing me and fighting me so hard on proper writing right now (obligatory apology for any bad quality), I really wanted to write some SOD Trio! So!

(I wrote some sparring shenanigans but it didn't come out in a way I liked, so I gave writing another go and I liked this better. I'll give that other one a try someday.)

Disclaimer: I am not fluent in ASL or Spanish, I know barely there broken pieces of both.

Tw: Mention of a suppressed stim

Techie scowled at the campsite.

It’s like they’ve never heard of an organized workspace. Techie thought, her gaze crossing over bundles of granola wrappers and emptied cob salad containers weighed down with anything they could find nearby.

Unfortunately, at the moment, Hyper was off with Thyme to see if there was anyone else on the island, and they had decided to leave Techie behind to look after the campsite. They had also left behind a mess! So, this had landed on Techie to clean.

Techie exhaled slowly. As much as she wanted to be mad at Hyper about it (and trust her, she was annoyed), she was almost grateful for it. Cleaning gave her something to do, a way to control her space in an environment where she held so little control. Control was important to Techie. She needed it.

So, with a reluctant sigh, Techie got working. She scanned the ground for any wrappers and picked them all up, leaving the paperweights scattered about where they were because as much as she was fascinated by cool rocks, they had bigger problems at the moment, and better uses of their time.

But they’re rocks from the past. Surely one couldn’t hurt?

Techie sighed. “And I’ve talked myself into it.” She muttered, scooping up a rock from the ground where the grays were sliced through with a faint orange like a flaming streak behind a shooting star, white bleeding across the rock like the moon’s reflection in a lake. One thing was universal: rocks were beautiful everywhere.

After that, she stuffed all of the wrappers into a small empty Ziploc bag she found buried in the bottom of Thyme’s backpack. Normally Techie would be more respectful about not touching other people’s things, but Thyme’s backpack had been designated the traveling pack due to being the biggest and having the most pre-packed stuff in there, so as far as she was concerned an empty, crumb-filled bag that looked like it hadn’t been touched in 5 months was fair game. Then she went around to the containers and picked them and the lids and utensils left in them up, checking her mental map. There was a running stream that ran over some rocks nearby, but was it left or right..?

Techie, silently thanking her Nana for being the reason she knew a majority of this stuff, pulled up a hologram screen on her tech watch and tapped for the map she was slowly building. It was a little glitchy from having jumped through time, but she was slowly working and smoothing out all of the bugs and such on her tech. Hyper and Thyme just thought Techie needed time to find out if the batteries were fried (yeah, it wasn’t the best lie, but it was one they had bought easy), so she had a little while still to smooth it all out before she was expected to be able to use it again.

Following the map, Techie cleaned out the dishes in the stream, got a drink of water for herself, and went back. She closed the screen and turned off her tech-watch – she didn’t want to run the battery down after all – and piled them neatly away into a bigger container so they all sat in a nice stack.

Now – clothing. Techie was far more use to the functions of a washer and dryer than handwashing anything, but how hard could it be? They couldn’t just be left with dirty clothes, after all.

…But, still, maybe Techie would just fold those and set them next to the backpack just in case she accidentally left them with no clothes afterward. Thyme seemed like the type of person to know how to clean those. Or, if nothing else, they could all do it, and if the clothes got screwed up the blame would be divided evenly.

Finally, Hyper and Thyme came back as Techie was busy scrounging up things like their phones and tablets and other random stuff scattered across the ground to sort away.

“Yo, Tech!” Hyper called. “Watcha doing?”

“Cleaning the mess you heathen left behind.” Techie said with a light hiss that they both knew held no venom.

“Oh, c’mon, it wasn’t that bad.” Hyper said. “And besides, look at you! It’s all bueno! Looking good!” She gave a couple of thumbs up.

Techie swore she remembered something about bueno meaning good, which made that wording flow weird if she thought about it in English, but at this point she’d learned not to question Hyper’s odd patterns of speech. “Yeah, it only took me 2 hours.” She observed, handing Hyper their phone. “We really shouldn’t leave expensive, potentially irreplaceable technology lying around to be stepped on.”

“Why would it be irreplaceable?” Hyper asked, carelessly spinning her phone around from the phone loop and apparently completely disregarding Techie’s warning.

“Because we’re in the middle of nowhere, fueled by nothing, and we have no clue when we’ll have a chance to get to a T-Mobile or Verizon in the middle of the ocean?” Techie said, energy buzzing uncomfortably under her skin as she pushed down the urge to flap her hands.

“Nah, it’s fine, I run on – um, what’s it called? – an iPhone.” Hyper said with a grin that said they knew exactly what they were doing, spinning around on their heel and continuing to spin it from the loop.

Techie gave them a flat look, then looked away. “I’m confiscating your tablet.”

“Oh, what?” Hyper complained. “No bueno!”

Techie signed back Yes good with which was only made more rewarding by the fact that Hyper didn’t know a smidge of ASL and could only give her a look through slitted eyes that were calculating how necessary Techie was to surviving this mission, and simultaneously plotting her murder no matter the odds.

Techie cracked a smile as she handed Thyme both her phone and tablet without hesitation (the latter of which was hugged close to her chest with a degree of importance Techie didn’t miss), which made Hyper’s look sink into a full-on glare. She muttered something incomprehensible and turned away, bringing her phone up to her face.

Techie took the chance to lean in and whisper to Thyme. “Break these out of recklessness and I will personally drag your intestines out from your throat and throw them into the sea for the orcas.” Thyme squeaked softly and nodded quickly, clutching both pieces of technology closer with less importance now and more anxiety over the consequences of dropping them.

Suddenly, Hyper walked up, speaking so fast Techie barely processed the words. “Techie es el más grosero y no me deja tener mi tableta. Ella es malvada y abusa de su poder como chica tecnológica y NO LO TOLERARÉ. Ahora me paro frente a ti y te desafío por mi tableta. Entrenamos al amanecer.” With a self-satisfied nod, she turned and walked away.

Techie and Thyme blinked blankly after her. “…I don’t think they even know what they just said.” Techie muttered, running through exactly how much Spanish she’d heard Hyper use over their lives.

“Google Translate?” Thyme suggested softly, working her hair in her hands.

“…I don’t think I understood that enough for Google Translate to help me.” Techie admitted.

“No, I mean maybe they did.” Thyme clarified.

“Oh. Maybe.” Techie nodded, biting her lip. “Okay. Well. That’s. Something.” She looked down at her reflection in the screen of Hyper’s tablet. “I feel as though I’m going to regret this decision soon.” Thyme nodded in silent agreement.

Well. They were stuck in the past, alone (most likely) on an island, so at the moment Techie had higher priorities than trying to accurately recall and translate a long rant in Spanish that Hyper doubtfully knew how to say before saying it, so Hyper could live without their tablet for the moment while Techie attended to far more business than Hyper seemed interested in dealing with.

I didn't know how to end this lol

#SOD trio #Time Travel Duo #I once again run into the issue of not having a way to tag most of this stuff without a proper story name lol #oh well #writing #sod ocs #I should probably contextualize this story a bit more soon #ah well I'll get to it #I just wanted to write a thing lol #don't worry I'll explain actual stuff at some point soon

1 note · View note

theresthesnitch · 2 years

Text

What we do to get by, Part 9

Read the rest here.

***

Remus came around more often, after their talk. It felt different now. Not quite friendly, but without the open hostility that Remus had shown him. They weren't quite friends again, but they could coexist in the same space, at least.

Remus still wouldn't stay the night if Sirius was home, and Sirius didn't push him. He still offered every time, and Remus always said he couldn't. Sirius just hoped that he would eventually trust him enough to stay.

***

“Remus!” All three of them cheered when Remus stuck his head around the door and peeked in.

Remus’s face went blank. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

Sirius looked around the room, wondering what Remus thought of this ridiculousness. They shrunk the couch and moved it to the side of the room, barely big enough for a single person to sit on. They’d moved both mattresses out into the living room, along with every blanket, pillow, and remotely cozy item in the flat. It was a veritable pile of comfort, and James, Sirius, and Peter were all cuddled in the middle.

“You’re definitely not interrupting.” James jumped up off the cuddle pile and walked over to Remus, who had only taken a step inside the door. “Can I give you a hug? You always gave the best hugs, and I’ve been feeling deprived of Moony-hugs.”

“Uh, sure?” James wrapped his arms around Remus, and Remus looked over his shoulder at Sirius. “What’s going on?”

Sirius smiled. “It’s a sleepover. We alternate where we have them, and today it’s here.”

“How long have you been doing this?” Sirius could hear the hint of longing in his voice, even smothered against James’s shoulder.

“We started it a few months after Hogwarts,” Peter said. “It took us all a bit of adjusting to not living with each other and not seeing each other, so we decided to start this tradition.”

James finally let Remus go, holding him at arm's length with hands on his shoulder. “Who wants to be boring and spend a couple of hours at the pub when you could get pjs and tell scary stories that make Padfoot scared to go to sleep?”

“Oi!” SIrius crossed his arms. “I don’t get scared.”

James looked at him, and then back at Remus. “Yeah, I’d believe that if last time, I hadn’t woken up with him attached to me like a barnacle because of the Dauntless Dreadghoul.”

“No, hey, that’s not fair.” Sirius shuddered. “That story was awful.”

“He’s not wrong,” Peter added. “I didn’t sleep well after that either.”

James threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “You both are pathetic. It wasn’t even that bad.”

Sirius looked at Remus again, who seemed to be observing them with a sad smile on his face. Sirius couldn’t blame him. They were all best friends once, and Remus should have been part of this tradition. Would have been, except for Sirius ruining it.

Remus ran a hand through his hair. “I–uh, I could go. I don’t want to–”

“Nonsense, Remus!” James grabbed his shoulder and drug him further into the room. “Stay! You’re a Marauder, and it’s never been a real Marauder’s Slumber Party without you.”

Remus looked at them uncertainly. “Are you sure?”

“Of course we’re sure!” Peter said.

“I’ve still got the clothes I lent you, if you want to change.” Sirius spoke quietly, but Remus looked right at him. He seemed grateful for the chance to leave the room, and followed Sirius as soon as he stood up.

Sirius grabbed the clothes from the corner of his dresser, where he had folded them and put them after the last time. “Here. Do you want to go take a shower first? I could set your clothes to wash, if you want.”

“Are you sure it’s okay that I stay?” Remus dropped his voice, as though afraid they’d be overheard. “It looks like you were all having fun, and I don’t want to bring everyone down.”

“Is that what you think you would do, Remus? Bring us down?”

Remus shuffled his feet. “I know I do. That’s what happened when I showed up to James’s stag do.”

“No, Remus. Not at all.” Sirius reached out and took Remus’s hand. “That day was the best day I’d had in a while.” Remus snorted. “No, I meant it. Knowing you were still alive, that you were still out there, that made my day.”

“You don’t have to say that.” Remus wouldn’t look at him, but he hadn’t pulled his hand away.

“You don’t have to believe me, but I had been carrying the weight of thinking you were dead for I don’t even know how long. James and I actually had talked about you before you even showed up, and how you should have been there. About how we missed you.” Sirius started tracing his thumb in a small circle across the back of Remus’s hand. “I’m so happy you came tonight. I had wanted to invite you, but I didn’t know if you would show up if I did.”

“I probably wouldn’t have.” Remus looked up when he said it, a small acknowledgement that made Sirius’s heart flutter.

“Yeah, I figured. But I am really, really glad that you’re here. You’ll see, this will be so much more fun because of you.” Sirius dropped his hand, as loathed as he was to do it, and took a step back. “Go shower. I’ll come grab your clothes in a minute. We’re going to order pizza in a bit. Do you have a favorite topping? Don’t tell me you don’t care, because James will order everything with pineapple on it if you’re not careful.”

Remus wrinkled his nose. “I forgot he did that.”

“It’s awful, isn’t it? He hasn’t gotten any better.”

“I, uh, just want pepperoni, I guess.”

Sirius smiled broadly. “That’s what I get to.”

Sirius grabbed Remus’s clothes–pretending that Remus wasn’t showering with the curtain open and in full view–and headed to the living room again a few minutes later when he had set the spell over Remus’s clothes. James and Peter were sitting huddled on one end of the mattress pile, heads bent together and clearly discussing something. Sirius sat a few feet away from them, and the lads turned to him.

“Is he going to stay?” James asked.

Sirius shrugged. “I think so, at least for a little while.”

Peter’s face lit up. “You know what that means.”

James and Sirius groaned, but it wasn’t either of them who spoke up next. “What does it mean?”

All three of them turned to the door again, and Sirius tried not to focus on the way Remus still had water running down his bare chest. At least he’d put on trousers, because Sirius was certain that he couldn’t handle that.

“It means it’s time for the Greatest Marauder!” Peter was practically bouncing when he said it.

“For what?” Remus looked no less confused.

Sirius sighed. “It’s this game that he’s created. It’s never really worked very well.”

“That’s because it was made for four, and Lily couldn’t play because she’s not a Marauder.”

Remus pulled on a tshirt–Sirius was not disappointed at that, thank you very much–and walked over to the beds on the floor. He looked at it for a moment before diverting and sitting on the chair. “Okay, well, what are the rules?”

Rules were a very loose term for the instructions that Peter gave them. It wasn’t the first time that Sirius had played, and he still wasn’t completely sure he knew the rules. It somehow involved jumping around the living room from cushion to chair to blanket–each labeled with a location in Hogwarts–and lots of drinking for rule penalties that Sirius couldn’t keep up with.

Actually, he was pretty sure that Peter was making up half the times that they had to drink, and he might have called him out on it if it wasn’t for the fact that Remus was laughing nearly constantly. Sirius didn’t care if he, personally, had to drink all the liquor in the flat if Remus just kept laughing like that.

There was a rule that Sirius was certain hadn’t been involved in any prior game they played. Every time they landed on a haunted space–which was never consistent or predictable, 'like the ghosts, Sirius, you never know where they’ll be’–they had to share a story from Hogwarts. Sirius could have kissed Peter for that, because it got them all remembering happy memories from school.

And Remus–

Remus seemed to come alive, absolutely glowing. He hadn’t stopped smiling, and when he and Sirius ended up sharing a cushion after being trapped by Filch in a broom cupboard, Remus stood behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist to keep them both securely on the small pillow, and Sirius could have stayed in that imaginary broom cupboard forever.

Eventually, they’d all taken too many penalty shots to keep hopping through the furniture, and they collapsed onto the pile of beds and blankets on the floor. Or, well, James, Sirius, and Peter did. Remus sat down in the chair at the side.

The stories kept going though. Year by year, it was a highlight reel of their best pranks, up until the end of fifth year. It was almost like being back in the dorm room and sitting on the end of their beds, talking and planning, drawing their map.

Being Marauders together.

As the hour got later, they all started talking less and drifting more. Peter was the first one to fall asleep, followed quickly by James, which left Sirius practically alone with Remus.

“Oh, your mattress is still here.” Sirius looked over to where James and Peter were curled up together at the end of the makeshift bed. “I can try to extract it if you want to go off and sleep in your room.”

“Oh, no.” Remus ran a hand through his hair. “Can I–uh–can I just join you?”

Was Sirius’s heart audibly beating out of his chest? Could Remus tell how Sirius felt about laying next to him in bed? “Sure, that’s no problem at all. I’ll let you have the end.”

Sirius scooted over on the bed, and pat the bed next to him. Remus took off the jumper he was now wearing and slipped under the blanket next to him. Sirius waved his wand to extinguish the lights, and there was nothing but the soft sounds of Peter and James sleeping on the other side of the bed.

Remus rolled toward him, laying on his side and looking at Sirius with piercing eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. There was just enough firewhiskey coursing through him that Sirius had to remind himself not to lean forward and kiss Remus–that this wasn’t the time or the place to do it. That Remus wouldn’t want him to.

For a long time, they just looked at each other in the low light that streamed in through the open window. In the darkness, Sirius could let himself look at Remus. In the darkness, he could pretend that the look in Remus’s eye meant that he wanted Sirius, too.

“Goodnight, Padfoot.”

Sirius smiled at the use of his nickname. “Goodnight, Moony.”

***

Sirius woke some time later when he was jostled. He’d been sleeping on his back, which was unusual for him, but he felt like a heavy weight was holding him down. He opened his eyes and realized that the soft tickle on his neck was actually Remus’s hair.

Remus pulled away from Sirius, obviously not aware that he was awake, moving slowly in order not to jostle him further. Sirius watched him as he moved away and slid out out from under blankets. When he stood up, he looked back down at Sirius, who made no effort to hide that he was awake. The golden light of early morning did nothing to hide the blush that spread up from the collar of his shirt.

“Good morning.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry I woke you.”

“Are you leaving?” Perhaps Sirius should have a little more patience, but finding Remus pulling away from him in order to sneak out left Sirius feeling hurt.

“Yeah, I was going to.”

Sirius sighed and stretched an arm over his head. Remus’s eyes seemed to linger on the strip of skin above his trousers. “You should stay. James will make pancakes.”

“James can cook?” Remus wrinkled his nose.

Sirius laughed. “Yeah, he’s gone fully domestic now. Cooks, cleans, shops for groceries—“

“I suck great dick too.” James’s sleepy voice came from behind Sirius. He turned to look at him just as James pulled his face out of the pillow with a sleepy grin.

Remus snorted. “I’m sure your wife appreciates that.”

James gave a small shrug. “She does. It translates well enough to that too.”

“Doesn’t for you though, does it?” Sirius rolled toward him. “I don’t know how you do it. Vag will never feel like a cock in your mouth. I couldn’t give that up.”

James smirked at him. “Who says I have to give it up? Just have to find someone who’s willing to let Lily join too.”

“Wait, really?” Sirius shoved him in the shoulder. “You never said!”

“It’s a recent discussion.” A mischievous look came across his face. “Why, Padfoot? You interested? Want to take me to bed?”

Sirius snorted. “You wish you were lucky enough to suck my dick, but I’m not really interested in sex with a woman, even for your wife.”

James shrugged. “Your loss. I’m excellent at giving head.”

“Are you fuckers going to keep talking about blowjobs, or is someone going to make breakfast?” Peter’s voice was still muffled by his pillow, and Sirius hadn’t actually realized he was awake.

James looked back at Sirius. “Peter’s just jealous because he’s straight and has never had a blowjob from a man.”

Sirius laughed and pushed James’s shoulder. “Alright Romeo. How about you stow away your sexual prowess and make us all happy?”

James rolled over, hair rumpled and pillow lines on his face. “All you have to do is ask. Oh, and Moony has to stay.” James looked at him and raised his eyebrows a few times. “What’ll it be, Moony?”

Remus looked at them with a raised eyebrow. “Are we talking about blowjobs or pancakes?”

James pushed up onto his elbows to give Remus a wink. “Does it change your answer?”

Remus laughed. “Yes to pancakes.”

James laughed and wiggled his eyebrows at Remus. “That’s not a no to blowjobs.”

Remus winked at him, then walked back toward the bathroom. “Someone make me a tea.” James and Sirius burst out laughing, and Peter groaned about his hangover.

***

James made pancakes while the three of them sat around the table in the kitchen. James was in his element, flipping the pancakes without a spatula to excited cheers from the rest of them–fueled in part by breakfast bloody marys.

Remus was quieter this morning, more reserved. Tired, perhaps from the night before, or maybe a little less emboldened without the alcohol. Part of Sirius wishes that James and Peter weren't here, and maybe Remus would feel more comfortable with just him, like the way they'd been sharing their meals.

Then again, maybe Sirius was the problem and Remus would be more comfortable if he was just with James and Peter. He tried not to think too much about that.

Eventually, they ate their weight in pancakes with sticky syrup. Peter left first, saying something about getting back to check on his mother. James stayed, but Sirius could see that Remus was already checking the door, like he was trying to determine the right moment to slip away.

The moment seemed to finally come when there was a lull in conversation. James sipped his tea, Sirius took a last bite of pancake, and Remus clears his throat. "I have to head out, but this was�� well, that was fun."

Sirius smiled at him. "I'm really glad you came, Remus."

"Me too, Moony!" James stood up and wrapped him in a bear hug. "It's so much better when you're around. Next time is at my house. You'll have to come."

Remus had his face buried in James's shoulder, muffling his reply. When James released him–and it was clear that James was the one holding on, Remus looked down at the ground instead of at James.

Sirius looked up. “Will you come back, Remus?”

Remus nodded, and headed for the door without another word.

James and Sirius sat quietly as they listened to the light rustling of Remus shrugging on his coat and the dull thunk of putting on his shoes. They sipped tea as they listened to Remus open the door and walk out.

As soon as it closed, James turned to Sirius. “Was that it?”

Sirius avoided his gaze. “What do you mean?”

“You just let him walk out of here.” James looked over his shoulder, almost like he expected Remus to be standing there. “You didn’t even fight for him to stay.”

Sirius sighed, refilling his tea. “I can’t. When I push, he pulls away. He’s been coming around more, but only when I don’t make a big deal about it. He can come, if he wants, or he can stay away. I just do what I can to make him comfortable and welcome while he’s here.”

James just looked at him for a minute, but Sirius didn’t meet his gaze. “I don’t know how you do it, Padfoot. I don’t think I’d have the patience to wait without wanting to tie him down.”

Sirius met his gaze there, and found it full of warmth and awe. “Honestly, Prongs? I’m not sure how I do it either, but Remus deserves a chance to choose this."

***

Remus was back the next night, showing up as Sirius opened the door after work. He looked hesitant, and perhaps a bit wary, but Sirius tilted his head into the flat as a welcome, and Remus joined him.

It had been a long, difficult shift, and Sirius appreciated the silence between them. He didn’t have it in him to make small talk about whatever horrific thing Remus had found necessary to survive recently (Sirius acknowledged that this thought wasn’t really fair, and that Remus was doing the best he could, but that didn’t stop the thought from popping in his tired head).

Remus didn’t push for conversation either. He stayed in the kitchen while Sirius prepared them a small meal. He said thank you and quietly ate at the seat next to Sirius, and he never once insisted that Sirius entertain him or discuss his day. It was honestly lovely.

When they finished eating, Sirius charmed the dishes to clean. He was about to offer to let Remus stay the night, when Remus spoke up.

“If it’s not a problem, I thought that I would stay tonight.” Remus didn’t make eye contact when he said it, but looked at his fingers that were twisting in his lap. “If that’s okay.”

Sirius let the contentment of being asked–instead of being the one asking–wash over him. Remus wanted to stay. He was choosing this. “Yeah, you can stay. Always, Remus.” He turned toward the hallway. “I’m well knackered, though. I think I’m just going to go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, goodnight, Padfoot.”

Despite his insistence that he was tired, and he was very tired, Sirius couldn’t sleep. Instead, he listened as Remus ran a bath and settled in for bed, very quietly singing as he did.

***

Remus stayed more often after that. Sometimes, Sirius would see him when he was getting ready to leave for his night shift, but Remus would still be there when he came in the next morning. Sometimes he was already there when Sirius got off work, and he would sit down to dinner with him. Sirius didn’t reach across the table and hold his hand. Sirius didn’t kiss him. Sirius didn’t climb into bed with him.

Which was fine, as long as Remus stayed.

One morning, after Remus had spent the night, they were standing barefoot in the kitchen, sipping tea. Remus drained his cup and set it down in the sink. “I suppose I should go.”

Sirius looked at him over the rim of his cup. “Do you actually have anywhere to go, Remus?”

Remus still had his back turned to Sirius, leaning against the counter with his hands spread. “No, but I can’t stay here all the time.”

“Why not, Remus? You could just move in.”

Remus sighed and turned around. “I can’t live here, Sirius. I have nothing to offer you.”

“You don’t have to offer me anything.” Sirius set his cup down on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t need anything from you.”

“I won’t do that. I’ll end up feeling in your debt, and I don’t want that.”

Sirius threw his arms out. “Then we’ll figure something else out. Some sort of arrangement.”

Remus looked at him with raised eyebrows. “An arrangement?”

Sirius smiled. “Yeah, an arrangement. I’m sure we can think of something.”

Remus bit the corner of his lips and looked away. “I’ll think about it.”

“Alright, but please do. I just want to help you, Remus.” Sirius walked out of the kitchen. “I’m going to shower. I’ve got a shift in a bit. James is going to come over for dinner tonight, though.”

***

Sirius went through his day at work with an extra spring in his step. He was assigned to the long-term care ward again, which was generally devastating. However, today, he couldn’t stop smiling at each of the patients, and most of them smiled in return. It was a far better day on the ward than he’d ever had before.

Sirius knew he should be careful getting his hopes up. Remus hadn't promised to stay, but he was so sure that they’d made progress. Remus was going to stay.

When he came home, James was already there sitting on the couch with a bottle of muggle beer, but Remus was not with him. Sirius looked around when he walked in, but one look at James confirmed that he was alone.

“Sorry, Padfoot. He took off a little while ago. Said he had to work tonight.” James looked apologetic.

Sirius shrugged it off, like it was no big deal that Remus wasn’t there, but his mood noticeably soured. “It’s fine. He’s got a job, and he’ll be here when he wants to.”

“Is he living here now? I couldn’t quite get a straight answer out of him.” James took a deep drink from his bottle.

Sirius shrugged off his coat and slipped off his shoes, walking toward the kitchen. He raised his voice so James could hear him from the next room. “Not really, I guess. He’s here three or four nights a week, I suppose, but he won’t stay more than that. He leaves every morning, regardless though. Like he’s afraid of overstaying his welcome.”

“Where does he go?”

Sirius grabbed a bottle of beer out of the fridge and went to sit next to James on the couch. “I’m not sure, really. I don’t think he always has a place to go, but where was he going before he started staying here? He must have had a routine.”

James grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch, covering both of them stretched out over the middle cushion. Their legs were staggered, soles of their feet pressed to thighs, and Sirius sighed in relief at the casual contact–the touch grounded him, reminding him that he had people who loved him even if he’d made mistakes in his life.

“Are you doing okay, Padfoot?”

Sirius started peeling the label on the bottle rather than answering straight away. “Somehow, I’m both better and worse than I was before he came back to us. Like I’m really glad to know that he’s okay, but to see the way he’s been living and the things he’s had to deal with. That’s my fault, and it’s so much worse than I realized it was.” Sirius took a deep drink from his bottle, and James grabbed one of his feet and started rubbing it. “I’m glad that he’s around and we’re able to help him, but I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve done to him.”

“He doesn’t blame you, you know.” James dug his thumb into the pad of Sirius’s foot, and he groaned at it. “I talked to him about it.”

“He should.” Sirius took another drink and set the bottle aside, grabbing one of James’s feet as well. “I talked to him about it too, actually. He wanted to know if I did it as payback.”

James furrowed his brow. “Payback for what?”

Sirius’s stomach dropped. He’d never told James about what happened with the kiss, and he hadn’t really meant to bring it up now. “Oh, you know Remus. Always looking for something to blame himself for.”

James looked like he didn’t quite believe him, but he didn’t push. “I’m glad you were able to clear it up then.”

“Me too.” Sirius sighed and shook his head. “Enough sad stuff. What are you and Evans getting up to when she’s not harassing me at work?”

“Did I tell you that we’re planting a garden?” James exhaled, a small huff of laughter. “Well, I’m planting a garden. You know Evans and Herbology. She couldn’t grow a garden on her own if she tried. We’ve already got the plot picked, and Mum is going to give us some plants as soon as the weather turns warmer. She said that…”

Sirius let himself get lost in the mindless chit chat with James. He tried very hard not to think of Remus and what he might be doing now. He was (almost) successful.

#what we do to get by #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar angst #what if the prank ended differently?#snitchwrites

92 notes · View notes

piratekane · 2 years

Text

Lucy looks around the restaurant. It's a little pricier than she'd usually go for on a first date - especially a blind one. But Jesse said this woman wasn't like the other ones he had set her up with. She was more sophisticated, apparently. Lucy didn't really believe it because Jesse also said that about the last girl. And she had slurped on crab legs, loudly, and chewed with her mouth open. Maybe she needs to stop letting Jesse set her up.

This one is different, he had promised her. So here she was in her nicest pair of dark jeans and a ironed shirt, looking around what might be an over-priced restaurant for a "tall, blonde woman with gorgeous eyes" named... Dammit, think. She nods to herself. Right. Kim.

She spots a woman sitting at a table towards the back, facing away from her. Lucy takes a deep breath and nods towards her when the hostess asks if she's made a reservation and starts to weave through the tables towards the woman. Lucy slows down as she gets closer. The woman is playing with a napkin, folding it into squares on the table. Long slender fingers reach for the water glass on the table and Lucy figures it's now or never. Jesse is supposed to call a half hour in to give her a chance to claim a work emergency and get out of here. She can at least get through an appetizer.

"Kim?" she asks hesitantly as she steps up to the table.

The woman turns.

Oh.

"I’m-," the woman starts.

Lucy pushes on. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I tried to get here as fast as I could.”

Kim pushes her chair back like she might stand up but seemingly decides not to, a hand shooting out to take Lucy's instead.

Kim smiles tightly but it doesn't stop her from being probably the prettiest woman Lucy has seen in the last few months. You weren't lying about the eyes, Jesse, she thinks. Lucy blinks and realizes she's been staring, hastily taking the seat across from Kim.

"I'm so sorry,” she says again. “Work ran over and I had to go home and change." She waves a hand dismissively and smiles. "Don't we all get sidetracked with work?"

"I try to be punctual."

Lucy's smile falters for a second. "I'm usually better about being on time. My job has some pretty hectic work hours."

Kim seems to realize how her statement came across and the line of her shoulders soften. "You're in..."

"Government," Lucy supplies. It's easier than going through what NCIS stands for, what they do - and don't do. Government has been her go-to answer for all of these dates. And it bores women enough that Lucy doesn't have to spend too much time on it.

Kim looks surprised. "So am I."

Lucy smiles. "See, we already have something in common."

“I was surprised,” Kim starts slowly. “I thought-”

“Are you Kate?” a loud voice asks, booming over them.

Kim startles a little, water spilling from her glass. Lucy grabs on the cloth napkins and fruitlessly tries to mop it up even as it sinks into the tablecloth.

A woman in a hot pink dress with her hair piled high on her head snaps a piece of gum between her teeth and looks at Kim expectantly. She taps her foot and the silverware rattles a little on the table. “You look like your picture.”

Lucy looks between them, confusion building. The woman snaps her gum again and Kim seems to flinch at the sound.

Lucy’s frown deepens. “This is Kim.”

“Kate,” the woman says. She opens her fluorescent yellow purse, rooting around for something. “I have your picture right here. Your friend Cara gave it to me. She says ‘hi,’ by the way.”

Kim’s hands start to twist in the napkin she’s holding, tying it around her fingers in tight little knots that unravel as soon as she starts to fidget again. “I’m sorry, I-”

Lucy almost reaches out and touches Kim’s hand, to see if it settles her down any. She can see the panic rising in her eyes. She doesn’t know Kim very well but she knows people. And this person is going to spiral into nervousness in a second.

“You’ll have to excuse Kim,” Lucy says smoothly. “She’s Kate identical twin. They’re always doing this to people.” She laughs, the sound bright and fake. The woman frowns, as if she’s noticing Lucy for the first time. “Kate wasn’t able to come, so she gave us your reservation. You didn’t get her message?”

The woman’s hand drops from her purse. “No, I didn’t.”

“Classic Kate,” Lucy shakes her head fondly. She flashes Kim a quick smile. “I’m sure she meant to. She had a case of… what was it called? Aquagenic urticaria. It came on really quickly.”

“Aquage-”

“-Nic urticaria, yeah.” Lucy nods, face solemn. “Terrible, really.”

The woman’s eyes narrow in thought. Lucy holds her breath as she sees the words bounce around the woman’s mind before her eyes widen. “I think my cousin, Tony, had a case of that. Never really recovered from it. Still has the side effects. That’s gotta explain the drinking.”

Lucy sighs heavily. “Once you contract it, you never really recover.” The woman nods along. “But we’ll be sure to pass along your apologies,” Lucy says after a second.

“‘Course.” The woman snaps her gum again. “It’s a shame. You two are cute, for twins.”

For twins, Lucy mouths at Kim. She quickly turns her attention back to the woman when she picks up one of the butter knives and holds it out, checking her teeth.

The woman winks at her reflection and puts down the knife. “Well, tell her Lola said ‘hi’ and that I hope she feels better. Aquaponics sounds like the pits.” Lola doesn’t wait another second, turning on her heel and sending her long, flowing, hot pink dress up around her. She power walks through the tables, leaving them behind.

Lucy blinks rapidly, her mind trying to catch up with the whirlwind left behind. She opens her mouth and closes it again quickly before she turns back to the woman across the table. “So… Not Kim.”

Not-Kim smiles sheepishly. “No.”

“Kate,” Lucy says quietly, working the name over in her mind. She looks at Kate. At her eyes and the flush of her cheeks and the way she’s biting on her bottom lip just a little and she decides - she’ll have to get Jesse to give the real Kim her regards.

She holds out her hand again and smiles. “I’m Lucy.”

“Hi, Lucy.” Kate smiles back. “It’s nice to meet you.”

#this has been sitting in my google docs for god knows how long #so i'm sending it out into the world #ncis: hawai’i #kate whistler #lucy tara #kacy #do i personally know a woman like this yes i do i work with her 40 hours a week and god bless her heart it is always in the right place #but would i run if i saw her coming to my dinner table at a restaurant by god i would hide #maybe this idea isn't a bad one but it's not one that's going to get written any better than this SO enjoy fellas

78 notes · View notes

the-modern-typewriter · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your writing <3. I was just wondering if you had an update on what is happening with your ace story, Say Yes. I really love it and would love to read more! No pressure, would just love to read it on your Patreon when you are done :D

(For curious people, this is Say Yes.)

I am mentally wrangling it and working on it when I have time (so not this month, haha).

In regards to reading more, have a random short extract:

Cade’s room was closer to his personality and what Astra had expected than the rest of the house. The colours were still fairly neutral, but there was a painted mural of London on one wall. There were sketchbooks too, of all different sizes, piled up on the desk, and more crammed onto a small bookshelf. His clothes hung in the wardrobe, along with a paint splattered apron. What looked like a few old pictures of Cade and his friends, and one of Cade and his brother, were propped on the bedside table. His school bag poked out from under the bed. It was tidy, but less in a showroom sort of way. More in the, Astra liked to think, oh crap my girlfriend’s going to see my room for the first time kind of way. Cade shoved some of the sketchbooks aside to make room on the desk, and set the cupcakes down. Astra wandered over to the bookshelf. It held mostly fantasy novels, some thrillers. She swivelled. “Did you paint it?” she asked, pointing at the London mural. “Hm?” Cade was halfway through prising the lid off the cupcake container, and glanced at the wall. “Oh, yeah. There was left over paint from when they turned my brother’s room into the office.” He selected a chocolate cupcake. “You don’t have to do that,” she said, with a twinge of embarrassment, and folded her arms. “We’re about to have dinner.” “Oh, please. I’m not missing out on cupcakes.” He headed over to the window, pushing it open. Once he was leaned half out of it, the portrait of a teenager stealing a cigarette and not wanting anyone to catch the smell of smoke, he sunk his teeth into the frosting and took a large bite. “My god.” He angled himself, so any crumbs spilled into the garden below in a startlingly practiced way. “These are delicious.” “Chloe and Ingrid helped,” Astra confessed. She bit her lip, studying his slender form with a fresh knife of unease. “You know I’m not going to withhold cupcakes from you, right?” “I know. Want some?” He held up the cake. “Trust me. You’re going to want a hit of something sweet to prepare you for dinner with my parents. Also, my mum’s lasagne is…” Cade grimaced. “Is it…is it really going to be that bad?” Some of her confidence faded, in light of the cupcake incident. She moved over to him, leaning in after only a moment’s hesitation to take the bite he was offering. Despite everything, she couldn’t help but be aware of how close they were now standing. Alone. In his room. Sharing a cupcake. His lips had touched that cupcake. They would be sugar sweet if she kissed them for the first time now, wouldn’t they? “The lasagne? I mean, I’m not a cook, but I’m pretty sure it’s her refusal to use like butter or full fat milk or anything. She barely uses salt.” She shot him a look. He shrugged, though the gleam in his eyes was conspicuously absent, and all thoughts of kissing him vanished in the face of that. “They’ll probably interrogate you on your parents,” he said. “What they do, what you do, and your five year plan for life.” “Well, I have a ten year plan, so that’s all good.” He raised a brow, fumbling normalcy. “Do you now?” She jutted her chin out at that comment, tossing the Cade Wright smirk right back at him. “You don’t believe me? Okay.” She leaned against the window next to him, peering into the early winter darkness. “Go to UCL to do a degree in psychology.” There was a light in the window across the grass, though the curtains were drawn and she couldn’t see inside the room. “Then do their postgraduate degree. Become a psychiatrist. Maybe travel a few years – I want to go to Paris, and Venice – then settle and have an amazing apartment in London. Meet the love of my life, if I haven’t already done so. Happily ever after.” “I want to study in London too,” he said, absently. “One of the art colleges. Maybe Goldsmiths if I can get in.” The pained expression was at least gone from his face. He polished off the cupcake, then tensed as a door opened down the corridor, and footsteps sounded on the stairs once more. “We should probably get back down there.” She never thought she’d hear ‘should’ from his

mouth, so resigned, as if he hadn’t been the one to ask her what she wanted to do when all she could think about was what was expected of her. The wild thought crossed her mind that they could simply leave. But this wasn’t a party, with people they never had to see again in seven months if they didn’t want to. This was his family. His life. Still. She made an exaggerated glance at the window. “It’s not too late,” she said, “have you ever climbed out of this thing before?” It made him smile, like she’d hoped. “Once. I was fourteen. I broke my arm.” “I think I remember that, actually. Everyone at school wanted to sign your cast.” “You put stars around your name. It was cute.” She blinked at him, not remembering that, and not having expected him to remember that either. Or to find it cute, when it sounded like a excruciatingly dorky thing to have done. He looked away, scrunching up the paper cupcake casing in his fist, and putting it back in the box. She took that as a cue to straighten up off the window again, their stolen moment at an end. She half felt that she should ask him if he was ready, or to tell him again that everything was going to be okay. She wasn’t sure the words would help. She squeezed his hand instead, hopefully for courage, hopefully for one of them. “I know.” She bit her lip. “I storm out, and you follow me like a gentleman, and then we don’t come back. Just say the word.” He actually laughed that time, seemingly caught off guard. His face brightened, for a moment, and he looked at her like she was the best thing he’d ever seen. Like, maybe, he wanted to kiss her too. Their eyes met.

And I'm hoping to at least try getting it traditionally published, rather than on my Patreon, so who knows. Need to finish it first!

#Say Yes #ace romance novel #my novel #my writing #writing #romance #asexuality

93 notes · View notes

babymetaldoll · 3 years

Text

Passive aggressive (Spencer Reid/Reader)

Requested: Yes!

Warnings: Cursing, a little angst, a lot of fluff. Spencer being an asshole.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Category: A little angst with a fluffy ending.

Summary: Spencer and his girlfriend don't know if they will survive their first fight.

Word count: 3.5 K

A/N: Hello my favorite people!! how are you doing? hope you are all safe! here's a little "angsty" request. I had to pick between Gubler and Spencer, but I think Spencer suits better for this request. Hope you like it!

Masterlist

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

When (Y/N) fell in love with Spencer Reid, she couldn't think of anything wrong about him. Sure, she knew the man had flaws, but honestly, none of those actually bothered her. Not his rambling, not his lack of social cues. Neither his previous trauma nor how he kept moving his hands as he spoke, and how it gradually increased when the subject was about something he loved.

She liked all those things about him.

Spencer ignored all the flaws people pointed out about (Y/N), 'cos he was in love with her. He didn't care that she had a hard time sharing her feelings and that he had to basically profile her to get to know what was, in fact, going on with her. He didn't care that she was a little bossy from time to time, 'cos he loved making her happy.

All those things he could deal with, 'cos he loved everything about her.

But people don't warn you when you are dating for a long while. All those little things that don't matter can turn into a bunch of flaws that start driving you nuts. And after eight-month dating, their perfect honeymoon was over. Spencer Reid and his girlfriend were about to get into their first official fight.

No one prepared them for it.

- "Spencer? Can you help me, please?"- (Y/N) was in his room, folding bed sheets and towels.

- "In a minute!"- Spencer replied and didn't take his eyes from the book he was reading.

- "You said that twenty minutes ago"- (Y/N) frowned and dropped the clean sheets on their bed- "Please, Spencer. I'm tired, and I wanna go to bed. I'd finish folding the clean clothes if you helped me."

- "In a minute."- Spencer repeated and didn't even pay much attention to his girlfriend's annoyed tone of voice until it was too late. She was standing right next to her in the living room.

- "Spencer! Please! Fucking help me now!"- he raised both eyebrows and stared back at her, her cheeks red in anger and her hands clenched into fists.

- "Why are you talking to me like that? I haven't raised my voice to you."

- "'Cos I'm fucking tired, and you've been relaxing here for over an hour, while I do everything in the house, and you don't cooperate!"

- "Excuse me?"- Spencer stood up and took a look around- "Who cooked dinner?"

- "You did! and did you do the dishes? And cleaned the kitchen afterward? 'cos as far as I remember seeing it, it's still a mess!"

- "I'm gonna do it in a minute!"

- "No, you won't! You always do this! You make a big mess, pretend you'll clean it in a minute, and then you just leave it there until I do it!"- Spencer frowned and looked at (Y/N)'s angry face.

- "No, I don't! If anything! I am the one cleaning all the messes you leave around here all the time!"

- "What?!"- (Y/N) shriek, feeling almost insulted- "Which messes are you talking about?"

- "Top of my mind, all the hair you left in the shower! It was fucking disgusting!"

- "What?!"

- "If maybe you used all the freaking bobby pins you keep leaving everywhere, maybe the shower drain wouldn't get blocked!"

- "I didn't block the drain!"

- "And by the way, I told you I was going to help you with laundry. You didn't wait for me to it with you."

- "If I wait for you to help me, I'll run out of clean clothe, and I'll have nothing to wear tomorrow for work."

- "You do have a lot of clean clothing at your apartment! Maybe if you spent some time there, you'd see it. But you are always here!"

(Y/N)'s heart dropped. Since they had started dating eight months ago, they had spent most of their time in Spencer's apartment. She never overanalyzed it. They just did. (Y/N) loved Spencer's apartment 'cos it felt like home, and he always made her feel welcome.

Clearly, Spencer didn't feel the same. Not anymore, at least.

- "Sorry for intruding on your space, Spencer. I just thought you liked having me here!"- (Y/N) whispered with anger, trying not to cry, as she gathered all her things and put on her shoes.

- "I love having you here, but it's my house, and I don't appreciate you bossing me around, telling me what to do, when to do it, and how to do it, all the fucking time!"

Spencer kind of yelled, still mad, and not seeing the painful look in his girlfriend's eyes.

- "Well, enjoy your space. I won't tell you what to do anymore!"- and after those words, (Y/N) stormed out of the apartment, and Spencer sighed, staring at the empty space around him.

How did things get so out of hand? He had no idea. He didn't mean to hurt her, but the truth was that she was smothering him with all the nagging about the housework she kept doing. He didn't want her to do all the chores alone. He just had his own way of doing things, and he hated the fact she was imposing hers.

Could it have been said in a better way?

Yes. But Spencer didn't see that at that minute. He didn't realize how much he had hurt her. Why? Spencer didn't mean wrong, but he had no idea how hurtful his words could be when he was angry. And that night, Spencer was beyond angry.

Now, what's worse than having your first awful fight with your boyfriend? Having your first fight with your boyfriend, seeing him the day after at work, and having to act like everything is ok, 'cos you gave Hotch, your unit chief, your word your relationship wasn't going to get in the way of your work.

Bullshit! Of course, it was going to get in the way. Hotch knew it, (Y/N) Knew it, Spencer knew it. But the three of them pretended they had no idea what was going to happen.

Hotch thought Spencer and (Y/N) were going to be a mature young couple, 'cos he could see how much they loved each other. They had been in love with each other for so long before actually doing something about their feelings. Hotch thought they were never going to have any kind of trouble or argument.

He was so wrong it hurt.

The following morning, (Y/N) walked into the bullpen holding a black cup of coffee and headed straight to her desk. She waved at Emily and JJ and sighed, relieved, when she noticed Spencer was in the kitchenette with Morgan. That gave her the chance to casually ignore him and wait a little before dealing with him.

The truth was, (Y/N) was scared after their fight. She had known Spencer for over seven years, and she knew he had been honest about everything he had told her the night before. Everything. Sure, he yelled and hurt her. He didn't sugar-coat anything when he was mad. But he wasn't lying, and that was scary.

(Y/N) also knew Spencer was very passive-aggressive when he was upset. That was why she knew she had to be the bigger person and avoid him as much as possible while they were at work. Because, whatever she could say about the subject, or related, was going to trigger Spencer.

She remembered when Spencer got mad at JJ when he found out Emily wasn't dead. Spencer was hurtful when he was angry, and you don't want to be the target of his anger.

Spencer reached his desk and noticed his girlfriend was sitting all alone, practically hiding underneath a pile of files. His heart ached, staring at her for a second, fighting back the impulse of walking over and kissing her.

How long since he had kissed her? 14 hours, 17 minutes, 22 seconds. And counting.

But no. Spencer wanted to make a point, and he was still mad. He didn't want to cave in and lose that argument. Yes, it was their first fight, but he wanted to make a point. He didn't want her to boss him around in his own place and change his schedules. He had his own way of doing things. Like Paula Anka and Sinatra said: I did it my way.

Spencer had no idea, but his silence was slowly breaking (Y/N)'s heart more and more. She looked at him for a second, but he paid her no attention. Maybe it was better that way, she thought. She could focus on all the work she had to do.

But no. Of course, it didn't help.

When Penelope walked over and announced they had a case, half the team had already realized there was something wrong with their love bird. Spencer hadn't walked over (Y/N) with her favorite pastry soon after her arrival. She hadn't kissed him good morning. He hadn't spent half of the time staring at her from his desk. If anything, they had been ignoring each other most of the day.

Emily, JJ, and Derek looked at each other when (Y/N) stood up and walked alone to the conference room. Spencer didn't follow, didn't hold her hand. Didn't even look at her. He just gathered his things, put them in his satchel, and waited for a few minutes before standing up, just to make sure he wasn't alone in the room with (Y/N).

It was crystal clear: things were not going right.

Spencer ignored (Y/N) during the briefing at the jet, and he was relieved Hotch had paired him with Emily. (Y/N) focused on the case, and she was also glad she didn't have to see Reid during part of the day. She had to go to the last murder scene with Derek. It was sad and disturbing, but directing her attention to the case gave her a break and even some peace of mind.

- "What happened between you and pretty Ricky?"- Morgan was driving the SUV, and (Y/N) kept her eyes glued to the window.

- "We had a little argue"- she whispered- "Thank you for making me realize we are not subtle."

- "You are not glued to each other. That's weird. I haven't seen you two apart since you joined the BAU."- Derek chuckled and looked at (Y/N). Her arms were crossed on her chest, and her eyes were teary.

- "Wait, pretty girl. It was just a silly argument, right?"- Derek didn't even consider the couple could break up. Ever. For Derek, his best friend and his girlfriend were it for each other.

- "I don't know. I know I have to give Spencer a little space to cool off, but the more I think about it, the worst it feels."

- "But, (Y/N). He loves you. You can't let that go."- she cut him a short smile and nodded.

- "I love him too. Sometimes you wonder if that's enough, though. Maybe it was better for us when we were platonic."

- "You can't be serious"- Morgan frowned, and (Y/N) just shrugged- "Spencer is crazy for you. No matter what he said, he loves you."

Morgan was right. Spencer loved (Y/N) more than he loved himself. But he wasn't ready to let that one argument go just yet. Besides, the doctor focused on work that week. That case occupied 99% of his mind during the next couple of days.

(Y/N) knew that's how he usually worked. And the frustration that the case caused them, plus the anger he still felt after their fight, didn't make a good person out of Spencer. If anything, he was looking for a reason to start an argument with pretty much everyone, especially with (Y/N).

- "We have to consider this unsub is not acting on a fantasy. He is looking for revenge, and he is escalating quickly."- Hotch said, going over the files again.

- "But if the murderer spends time with them in their houses and kills them with something they own, something that actually means something for them, I think we might be looking for a woman. This is too personal, and at the same time, it feels domestic"- (Y/N) analyzed, staring at the latest murderer's scene pictures.

- "Perhaps the Freds didn't help her fold the clean sheets."- Spencer whispered and shook his head. (Y/N) held her breath and stood up. She had to move away from Spencer to avoid answering that kind of comment.

Unlucky for her, Spencer wasn't close to being done. And for the rest of the night, he whispered hurtful comments and kept breaking her heart over and over again. (Y/N) knew Spencer was mad, but she didn't imagine how much. Maybe she had pushed him too hard. What if that was it? If that fight meant the end for them? She was actually scared to ask.

After catching the murderer and solving the case, (Y/N) sat on her own on the jet back home, hugging her legs on her seat. Emily looked at her from behind her book and decided her friend needed some love. She poured a cup of earl grey and walked to her with a warm smile.

- "You are my hero, Emily Prentiss."- (Y/N) whispered and held her cup.

- "Well, it comes with the job. I can read it all over your face: you need tea, a warm bath, and fix things with Reid."

(Y/N) closed her eyes and sighed. Spencer was at the other side of the jet, asleep. Or well, pretending to be asleep just to avoid talking to her. She knew it, and it didn't make her feel better at all.

- "I don't know what happened, Em. But I think this might be it" Prentiss wide opened her eyes at those words and held (Y/N)'s hand right away.

- "No way. He is crazy for you."

- "Yeah, it's funny 'cos Morgan said the same a few days ago. But after this week, I think I actually drive him crazy in a sick bad smothering way. I really think I fucked things up"- (Y/N) was fighting the tears back and looked over the window to avoid human contact, though Emily still held her hand.

- "(Y/N), you have to talk to him. He loves you. He is not good with social cues and facing people. You know that."

- "Yeah, I know. But I thought it was going to be different with me. It's me, it's him. This was supposed to work easily. I guess I was wrong".

- "Nothing worth doing comes easy, (Y/N)"- Prentiss whispered and squeezed her friend's hand- "Don't give up on Spence."

(Y/N) didn't want to give up. But she was scared Spencer had already decided. It looked that way after his cold and mean attitude those days. When the jet landed, she tried to walk to him and talk, but he avoided her and just left.

(Y/N) walked to her car and sat behind the steering wheel. Finally, alone after a rough couple of days, she burst into tears. She was scared and frustrated, and most of all, anxious to know what was going to happen. That was a terrible mix of feelings.

She knew that she didn't want to push Spencer to continue a relationship that might make him miserable. That's why, after taking a few minutes to calm herself down, she texted him.

- "I'm sorry things got till this point. I didn't mean to make you feel so bad. I understand if you want to break up. I'll pick up my things tomorrow."

Spencer felt his cellphone hum as he walked into his apartment, holding a box of tandoori chicken. He thought for a second it might be Hotch with another case, and sighed annoyed just at the thought of missing the chance to relax on his own again.

But when he read it, it was actually worse.

He left the food on the table and read the text over and over again.

What had he done? Why did (Y/N) think he wanted to break up with her? That wasn't his plan at all. He just wanted to prove a point. Not end with their relationship.

Did he push things too far?

Did he act like an asshole?

Did he ruin everything?

Spencer stared at his apartment, and his heart ached. He didn't care if (Y/N) changed everything around. He just wanted her there, with him. Always. He could do laundry whenever she wanted to. He could fold sheets whenever she asked him to. He could be as domestic as she wanted him to be if that meant that she would stay with him.

(Y/N) drove back home. She thought about getting something for dinner, but honestly, all she wanted was to get into her bed and try to sleep. Spencer didn't reply to her text, which somehow surprised her. A part of her was waiting for him to tell her he didn't want to break up. But that silence was the confirmation she didn't want to have: it was over.

The young agent did her best to remain calm as she drove back home. She didn't want to cry. She could listen to Spencer's voice at the back of her head giving her some statistics about people crushing their cars when they drove under emotional distress.

(Y/N) made it to her building, parked the car, and literally dragged herself upstairs. She was about to reach her apartment when she saw him. Spencer Reid, waiting for her, sitting on the floor, his back resting against her door. She froze for a few seconds, looking at him, confused. He stared back at her and held his breath. Her eyes were puffy and red, her face was pale, and yet, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on.

- "(Y/N), I'm so sorry."- Spencer whispered and stood up. He walked to her and held her hands. She didn't follow, so she stayed in silence. Spencer lifted her hands until they reached his face and caressed himself with them carefully for a few seconds, tears falling from his eyes.

- "I'm so sorry, I was an asshole."- he murmured and kissed her hands over and over again as he sobbed.

- "Spencer..."- she whispered and stared at him confused- "I'm sorry."

- "No, I am. I was mean to you, and you didn't deserve it. You have to know how much I love you. How deeply in love I am with you. I love spending all my time with you. I don't want you to live twelve and a half blocks away from my apartment. I want you there all the time. Or I can be here all the time. I just... don't want to lose you."

- "I don't wanna lose you either"- (Y/N) managed to say- "I'm sorry I was so bossy and that I invaded your space."

- "No, I'm sorry I was an asshole and so passive-aggressive with you. I love you. I promise I will never act like that again"- Spencer hugged her and hid his face on the crook of her neck. (Y/N) hugged him too and breathed in his smell, feeling at home right away.

- "I missed you so much"- Spencer held her face with both hands and kissed her sweetly, rubbing his lips against her with such love and tenderness, (Y/N) felt her heart skipping a beat.

- "I missed you more"- she sighed into the kiss and held him closer.

- "I swear, I'm never going to hurt you again, buttercup."

- "I'm not going to nag you again. I don't care if you don't fold sheets, chipmunk"- (Y/N) smiled and rested her forehead against his for a moment.

- "You are doomed, (Y/N), 'cos I'm gonna do whatever you ask me to do from now on."- Spencer leaned in and kissed her again, feeling her smiling against his lips.

- "I just want you to be happy with me, Spencer"- she murmured- "I never want to make you feel like I'm invading your space or being bossy."

- "Then move in with me"- he said and smiled like a mad man- "I don't want it to be my apartment anymore. I want it to be ours. Let's find a place for the both of us, so we can make it our home."

(Y/N) stared into Spencer's eyes, and all she could read was his excitement and adoration. So she giggled and nodded.

- "Yes! I wanna have a home with you!"- she answered and nearly started jumping- "Come on, let's go inside so we can start looking for a new apartment. Or a house!"- her excitement was contagious, and it made SPencer chuckle.

- "Or we can have make-up sex first,"- he suggested, and (Y/N) dropped the keys she was holding. "Did you know when we argue, post-powerful hormones are released? The rush of adrenaline, noradrenaline, and testosterone triggers a state of extreme arousal. The perception of threat combined with the influence of the hormones on our brains is what takes us from seething with anger to seething with desire..."

- "I love it when you talk dirty to me, Spencer Walter Reid"- (Y/N) opened the door, and the couple rushed in. They hated to argue, but at least something god had come out of it.

------

Spencer Taglist

@calm-and-doctor @all-tings-diego

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fluff #babymetaldoll writes

617 notes · View notes

bubblyhoney · 3 years

Text

win for me

warnings: lAnGuAgE, alcohol consumption (both reader and all other characters are of age to drink), marijuana use, Making Out™️, a miniscule Flowers from 1970 reference. PSA: WHEN UR INTOXICATED AND/OR AT A PARTY, TELL UR FRIENDS WHO YOU WILL BE WITH AND WHERE YOU WILL BE AT ALL TIMES. DRINK AND PARTY SAFELY!

tags: sapnap x fem!reader

summary: a collection of moments throughout the beginning of your relationship

words: 5000

A/N: even though this isn’t my most organized or perfect fic this was so incredibly fun to write. and it’s a college!au!! one of my favs. hope you guys like!! let's pretend the pandemic doesn't exist for this one too (please wear ur masks btw)

Sophomore Year:

Smells like shit in here is your first thought upon entering the laundromat.

It does, in all honesty. What would you expect a place where college students wash three months of dirty clothes and comforters with vomit to smell like? Urine and just a hint of marijuana, incidentally. The door closes noisily behind you and a guy in a black baseball hat turns his head at the noise. Half of his face is hidden underneath the shadow of his scruff and he says nothing, but you still offer an obligatory polite-stranger smile. The place is pretty deserted, what for it being nearly 4 in the morning. And you’re a rare kind of customer; only a few things to wash and you brought your own detergent.

There’s an empty washer next to an old woman in an acid-trip of a parka, and you sweep past the few other patrons with your mesh bag close. The man in the hat nods at you as you pass, looking up from his phone.

Okay. Dark load in one and delicates in the other, you remind yourself. The quarters get pushed through the slot (not without dropping three and having to scramble to pick them up before they disappear between the machines) and you fill the dispensers with a flowery laundry detergent your roommates hates. Oh, and the clothes go in. Done. You relax into a cracked plastic booth around the corner of the machine, pulling a book of crosswords from your bag.

Somebody yelps halfway through filling out a five letter word (“a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person's mind during sleep”) and you jump. Baseball Cap rips open the dryer, fumbling around and supplying a pair of gray sweatpants. You can’t help but watch. He digs through both front pockets, pulling out a wad of dollar bills. He sighs, shoves the pants back into the dryer, and starts it with a hard push.

“Gut feeling?” You ask. He looks around for a second and settles his gaze upon you. Nice eyebrows, you think.

“Yeah,” he laughs, slightly nervous. “Yeah. I wore them yesterday and just remembered I put some tip money in my pocket.” Leaning back onto the shelf behind him, he shoves his phone into his pocket and folds his arms tight to his chest.

“I feel you,” you empathize, and set down your pencil. “I washed a parking ticket with my underwear last week.”

He stutters out a laugh, nodding.

“That must’ve sucked,” he adds.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I wasn’t going to pay it anyways, but would’ve been nice to keep it for memory’s sake.” Rubbing at your knee offhandedly, you just watch him. He’s cute. And easy to make conversation with.

“Hey, um,” he mutters and clears his throat. “Do you by chance know some guy named Karl? Tall, messy brown hair and a horrible laugh?”

You open your mouth, then close it.

“Actually—,” you start but huff out a laugh. “Yeah, he’s uh, he’s dating my roommate. Why’d you ask?”

Reaching a hand to rub at his neck, his face twists into something sheepish.

“I’ve seen you at some parties this semester. I didn’t mean to sound creepy like that— I just—yeah.” His cheeks flush pink and he looks down to the ground.

“No worries,” you say, barely even thinking. “I think I’ve seen you too. You’re in Delta Tau Delta, right?”

“Nah, nah,” he laughs. “Just got some friends in there.”

“Ah.” You nod.

The conversation falls into silence, but not uncomfortable silence. He pulls out his phone again, and you look back to the crossword in front of you. The old woman between you leaves with a humongous load of blankets and a small family leaves with a cart full of bags; now it’s just you two.

When the washer with your delicates ding you nearly jump two feet in the air. Exhaling, you set your work down and open the door.

“Shit,” you curse as two bras fall onto the tile. You reach down to get a hand on a black lace bra and hide it quickly under your elbow. A sneaker squeaks loud in the almost-empty room and you see Baseball Cap’s shoulders.

“Here.” He’s kneeling as he hands you your pink bra and you accept it, biting your lower lip.

“Thanks,” you mumbles, slightly embarrassed, and step back to shove those bras and a couple pairs of your underwear into your bag. He offers you a small smile and backs off to his own machines, humming an off-key version of Unchained Melody to himself. Your other load of laundry gets shoved right on top of your delicates.

It’s when you’re nearly out the door, bell jingling, that you think to look back.

“Hey,” you start, almost stuttering for no reason. “What’s your name?”

He turns, dark eyebrows raised.

“My—uh… My friends call me Sapnap. You can call me that too.” Rosy cheeks once again; you seem to be making him awfully nervous.

“Sapnap.” You try it in your mouth, pursing your lips. “Okay. I’ll see you around Sapnap.”

He nods, affirming your statement.

“See you around Y/N.”

It doesn’t hit you until you’re buckling your seatbelt and starting your car that you realize you didn’t tell him your name.

Perhaps he knew more about you than you thought.

Yeah, you laugh to yourself. Karl’s got a big mouth.

Junior Year:

It takes you a collective twelve minutes to go talk to him.

It’s quiet in the library, students that happen to come here to study or procrastinate few and far between the scattered tables. Your poison today is a 4 page history paper on Normandy that you’d been staring at the instructions for for days. You’d already written a bunch of, frankly, horseshit for the body, but the introduction and conclusion were throwing you for a loop.

The vibes in Ridgeback Hall were also certainly off, today more than any other day; the main help-desk was empty and everybody had to do the tedious task of locating niche textbooks themselves.

Lifting your head from the wood of the table, you squint and focus your vision on the guy in the white tee and denim jacket that had been the focus of your thoughts for minutes. He chews at the end of his pencil, mouth screwed up into a ball, and shoots daggers at the empty notebook in front of him. You’re surprised it hasn’t caught on fire yet just from his gaze.

“Sapnap!” You whisper-shout, stretching your arms across the table as if it would make him any closer. A person with purple hair jumps at your voice but turns back to their laptop. “Sapnap!” you try again, tapping two fingers on the table. His head jerks up, eyebrows furrowed and an angry expression on his face, but softens at the sight of you.

“Y/N,” he counters, equally as loud but with a smile on his face.

“What’re you doing?”

“Calculus.” He sticks his tongue out, making an awfully tortured face. You laugh and wave your fingers at him, gesturing for him to come closer. He just huffs out a sigh, stacks all his papers in one pile, and gets up. The trek over to your table is short but he takes it so slowly you wonder if he always walks like that. Like a varsity basketball player who just got off a horse.

“You’re so slow.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles and settles into a chair across from you. “It’s 2 pm, give me a break. I need a Redbull.”

“Those are bad for you, you know,” you say matter-of-factly and drop your chin onto your hand. He’s even cuter from this angle, you think briefly. He just rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, Miss I’d-like-some-coffee-with-my-sugar-and-cream,” he teases, pointing to your venti iced coffee. It’s about as pale as the color of a band-aid. You just sigh and close your eyes. “You tired?” He flips his pencil in his hand and leans back into the seat, sighing.

“Yeah,” you mumble. “I haven’t slept yet today.”

“Wow, you’re dumb.” He looks scandalized. You just shrug.

“Perhaps. I don’t really know why I did it actually— just for funzies!” You raise an arm but let it drop back down. “I stayed up playing Sims.”

“Feel that. I play Minecraft with my buddies until like 2 am every night too. It’s nice,” he decides and folds his arms across his chest. Your eyes flit over to his strong arms, admiring the way his denim shirt looks around them. Thick.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?” He says too loudly and it warrants a ‘shush’ from another student. He reddens, but looks back down to you. “I—why do you ask?” You shrug, eyebrows raised.

“Just wondering. You’re too cute to not have one.”

“Right,” he huffs, but his cheeks stay pink. You two fall into easy silence, his eyes trained on the notebook in front of him and yours closed peacefully. “Are you dating anyone?”

They snap open not-so-peacefully.

“Nope. You wanna submit a boyfriend application?” A smile cracks your lips and he grins back.

“Maybe,” he replies and stares at your mouth. “I have to say—,” He stretches into a yawn. “I think I’m qualified.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your eyebrow quirks. “And why are you so qualified?”

“Well, first of all, I work at Ace Hardware. That’s where cool people work.” He presses one finger into his palm. Then two. “And I have a bunch of free time because said job at Ace Hardware only likes scheduling me in the mornings. Plus, I’m hot.” He shrugs.

You nod faux-seriously, considering his list.

“Those are very good qualities, sir. I’ll have to get back to you on that.” You pause. “Okay, I’ll schedule an interview. How’s 7 pm at the Chili’s on Main? Chili’s is the designated interview place.” You wiggle your eyebrows. He just smiles at you, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was smooth.”

“Yeah, I know.” You carefully study your nails. “I’m pretty impressive.”

“Clearly,” he mutters and chuckles. “But I do like their salsa. And margaritas. We got a deal?” He holds out a large hand. You take it, squeezing tightly.

“Hell yes.”

When you see the man called Sapnap a week later, you are very obviously in a different state of mind.

Same state, same college town, but very different blood alcohol contents.

“Sappy!” You shout, raising your arms above your head with a stupid grin on your face. He turns, that familiar look of surprise evident in his expression.

“Y/N,” he laughs and approaches your group of friends in the kitchen. It’s Greek Wedding night at Delta Tau Delta, and you assume Sapnap came to support Delta’s “groom” Alex. You’d gotten uncharacteristically drunk, trading air for sangria, and you were now in the incredible stage where everyone was both your friend and your favorite person.

Throwing an arm around his shoulders, you mash your face into his bicep and giggle.

“Missed you so much,” you try to manage out of your mouth, but it comes out slurred and stuttered. “So much.” You’d gone to Chili’s two days before and promised another ‘interview’ in the next few days, but it felt like two months away from your beloved. Beloved friend, that is. Only one date.

“Yeah?” He places a hesitant hand on your back and nudges you into a standing position. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Oh, shhhh,” you mumble and close your eyes. “Only— a lot.” Blinking them back open, you zero your gaze in on a bottle of Ciroc half-empty and looking very tempting on the kitchen island across from where you’re leaned up against the kitchen sink. He catches your gaze and steps in front of you, pleasant face filling your vision. You gasp.

“You are so cute.” Sliding your palms up onto his face, you hold his scruffy cheeks in your hands and smile all dopey at him.

“Is that your brain or the alcohol telling you that?”

“Uh,” you swallow. “Both. And my heart.”

He just shakes his head and his chest moves with a heavy laugh.

“Glad to hear it.”

“Are you having fun?” You ask, all concerned and furrowed eyebrows. You look like you’re genuinely interested and worried about if he’s having a good time or not, and it makes his expression melt.

“I’m having lots of fun,” he passes over his shoulder as he flips on the tap and fills a red solo cup with water. “In fact, I’m gonna have a nice, cold glass of water right now.” He shakes it like an owner offering their dog a treat.

You eye the cup in his hand, having half a thought that this might be some sort of backwards psychology move. The other half wins.

“That sounds so good right now— can I drink some?” Your eyebrows pull together and your bottom lip drops into a pout. It makes him blink for a second. He remembers the little game you’re playing and just hands it over, smug. You gulp it down quickly and crush the empty plastic into your palm with an exaggerated exhale. “Hit the spot,” you sigh, and pat your stomach fondly.

“You hungry?” Sapnap asks you as he steadies you with two hands on your shoulders. Something pops into your head at his words: a set of two McChickens and an Oreo milkshake.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, and mirror him by placing your hands on his shoulders. “Can we go to McDonald’s?”

He just shakes his head, grin wide on his lips, and shrugs. Perfect teeth, you think.

“I haven’t drank anything, so I’m good to drive.” He pulls his keys from his pocket. “I know you’re smashed right now so—do you feel safe with me?” The question falls from his mouth and you truly consider it, pulling your lip between your teeth.

“Yeah. I’ll take this just in case,” you say, and take a large dinner fork from the counter next to you. It has some red liquid on it that you brush off onto the fabric of your jeans.

“That’s actually gross.”

“Yeah.” You grip it tighter in your head. “But it’ll do the job if you try any shit. I’ll put this in your eyeball.” Brandishing it, a smile stretches onto your mouth. He just shakes his head and heads for the back door, jerking a hand in your direction to get you to follow him.

The cool night air explodes on your face when you step onto the porch and it makes you blink rapidly. Sapnap is right at your side, offering a forearm as you slowly make your way down the two back porch steps. A tall blonde smoking half of a blunt makes a grunt noise as you two pass and your knight-in-shining armor looks up.

“Gonna go get some food. Want anything?” Sapnap stops on the rocky path to the sidewalk, tilted up to hear the blonde’s response. The other guy shakes his head but nods to you in passing.

“I’ll tell her friends where she went,” says the blonde, and disappears through the sliding glass doors.

Your hand falls from his forearm to his hand and grasps it tightly, swinging back and forth as you stumble to his car. You flash him a grin that he just chuckles at.

“Watch your step,” he warns as you yank on the handle of the passenger door and nearly fall off of the curb.

“I’m fine,” you huff, and scramble to get yourself upright into the seat and buckled. He closes your door and jogs to the driver’s seat, climbing in and starting the engine quicker than your head comprehends.

The small space fills with the sound of Letters to Cleo as he’s maneuvering out of his parking spot and he slaps a hand at the stereo button almost immediately. His cheeks redden as he glances at you once.

“I love Letters to Cleo,” you admit, and switch it back on. Ah, Co-Pilot. A classic. “Be my co-pilot!” You sing, loud and sharp. He shakes his head but huffs out a reluctant laugh.

“My older sister loved them. Bit old for my taste, but—you know. Can’t deny that I love a little bit of 90’s angst.”

“Absolutely,” you nod vigorously and pick at your nail. “Oh!” The fork magically reappears at your side and you grab at it. “For my McChickens.”

“And for me,” he adds.

“Yup. You too.” But you drop it onto the seat and lean forward, fumbling with the volume dial until you feel the lead singer’s voice thumping into your heart. “I love this lady!” You shout and rock your head to the beat.

Shaking his head, his shoulders move in an easy laugh. The drive-thru line is kind of busy for 2 am, he notes, pulling in right behind a navy BMW sedan. But it moves quickly, especially when you’re moving in your seat, scream-singing the lyrics to I Want You To Want Me.

“Yeah,” he says, loud into the mic. “Two.”

“Alright.” The voice reports from the speaker, a background clicking joining their bored tone. “Two McChickens, a double cheeseburger—ketchup and pickle only— , a medium fry, and an Oreo McFlurry. Anything else, sir?”

Sapnap chews on his lip, and glances at you. You just give an encouraging thumbs up.

“That’ll be all,” he reports.

“Second window, and your total is $9.67.”

He barely has time to call a “thank you so much!” before the line ends with a click. Rude.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan the second you sink your teeth into your first sandwich.

“Agreed,” he mumbles and pushes as much cheeseburger he can fit into his mouth.

“This,” you start, swallowing. “is the sexiest thing I’ve encountered in all of my years. I thank all higher powers when I consume McChickens…” Trailing off for dramatic effect, you stare down the sandwich before mimicking a dinosaur war cry and practically shoving it down your throat. He just nods in agreement.

“It’s so nice out tonight,” Sapnap comments, swinging a look out his rolled-down window. He parked right in front of the Campus Quad, large bubbling fountain the show to your dinner. And some geese fighting each other for half a rotting hot dog.

“Mhm.” You crumple up your wrapper trash and toss it into the empty paper bag. “Could totally go for a swim.”

He turns and gives you a look. You look right back.

“Should we?” It’s barely a question.

“Um, hell yes,” is all it takes for you to say before you’re clambering out of the car and starting for the fountain. He follows closely after, jogging to catch up with your borderline track-star sprints.

“Wait up!” He calls as you reach the border of the fountain.

“Ugh,” you sigh, impatient. “Hurry up.”

“Mouthy,” he grumbles before kicking off his shoes and bending to fold his pants up over his knees. You just climb straight in and brave the cold.

Squealing, you hop from one foot to the other, shoulders tight as you get used to the freezing water. He laughs and climbs in right beside you.

“Shit,” he curses, and shivers. “This sucks.”

“You suck,” you quip right back and splash around. He stares, disgusted, at the water soaking up your jeans all the way up to your knees.

“You’re gross for wearing jeans in a fountain. That’s worse than wet socks.” He starts to move around as feeling comes back into his toes.

“What, would you prefer me taking my pants off?” A sassy look paints your face and he rolls his eyes.

“No, but you could’ve folded them up like a normal person.”

“I think you forget,” you start, and splash a palmful of water his way. “I’m quirky.”

He gasps, face twisting as the water hits his thighs.

“You’re dead.”

If campus police were patrolling the Quad right now, they’d see two college juniors wading around in a fountain, water up to their knees, having a competition to see who can inflict the most damage. He won, it seems, because your shirt is drenched all the way up to your ribs.

“Okay!” You shout, hands spread to brace yourself. The water in his palm falls. “I’m cold and I want my other McChicken.”

“Fine,” he sighs, and with some difficulty manages to get out of the fountain and back into his shoes. You just make your way back over to his car barefoot, braving the mulch and poorly-sanded concrete.

You both finish your food quickly, discussing menial things like how fast food restaurants always skimp on the pickles and how it’s truly a disservice to the world that so many people don’t know it’s Biggie singing the song Kat dances on the table to in the 1999 classic 10 Things I Hate About You.

When Sapnap pulls up to your house, he shifts the car into park and lets loose a heavy sigh. You whip around, hand on your buckle, and sport a very confused look on your face.

“I’m tired,” is all he says. Head falling onto the seat, he rolls over to give you a half-lidded look. You nod empathetically and climb very carefully out of his passenger seat. Your drunk muscles haven't caught up to your mainly sober brain, which is impairing your ability to look like a functioning human being.

“Thank you for tonight,” you chirp, smiling in at him with your arms folded on the open window sill. The half-drank Oreo McFlurry is lukewarm in your hand. He stares at your flushed lips.

“Anytime you want a drunk McChicken let me know.” He winks. “I have a gift card.”

“You spoil me,” you coo, and step up onto the sidewalk. “I’ll see you sometime soon, yeah?”

He nods, pursed lips fighting a grin.

Cute, you both think at the same time.

Sometime soon, somehow, means the very next day.

It’s breezy yet uncharacteristically hot out, and certainly way too bright for a hungover Y/N.

You’re sat on the porch swing, nursing a hot decaf coffee with lots of sugar and cream. Sunglasses sit comfortably on your nose, but you still have to squint. The pills you took have yet to kick in, so all you have to do is wait and try not to vomit into your mug. Suddenly, your phone lights up and buzzes to life. You press the green button and lift to your ear.

“What do you want?” Your voice is awfully froggy, you realize, and clear your throat.

“Good morning to you too.” Sapnap’s voice rings clear yet husky into your ear. The corners of your lips twitch up into a smile. God, you’re whipped just for the sound of his voice.

“It is definitely not a good morning,” you grumble and switch him into speaker phone. You drop the phone into your lap and stretch out further on the swing.

“Good morning for me,” he chirps cheerfully. “Take anything for the headache?”

“Yes,” you report, sounding like a pouting child and rubbing two fingers into your temple. “Some idiot fed me ice cream last night so this morning I woke up having to both shit and throw up.”

“Aww,” he sympathizes, sounding way too entertained. “That sounds like a you problem.” You stuck out your tongue, but upon realizing he can’t see it, make a ‘hmph’ noise into the mic. “Anyways. I called to see if you wanted to go get breakfast with me. Waffle House, specifically.” You make a face but lift yourself up off the swing, wincing.

“I saw a rat eat an entire piece of french toast there once. But—sure. I’ll pay.” He starts to whine, but you scoff. “Let me love you, bitch. You pay for my McDonald’s and I pay for your pancakes. Easy trade.”

“Whatever. See you in five.” He hangs up right as you twist the front door open and drop your phone onto the couch.

“Who’re you talking to?” comes from the kitchen and you jump, pressing a hand to your chest. A shirtless Karl enters the living room with a bowl of fruit loops in his hand.

“Jesus Christ,” you breathe, and duck into the hall closet for your pair of dirty tennis shoes. “I was talking to Sapnap.”

“Oh,” he says around his mouthful of cereal with a grin. “You guys dating yet?”

You pass him a weird look, bending to tie your shoes.

“Gimme like two weeks. I’ll have him at my beck and call,” you laugh and collapse back into the couch.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He quirks an eyebrow and exits stage left into your roommate’s room.

The few minutes it takes for Sapnap to come to your house are short but filled with contemplation. Do you really want to date him? He’s certainly cute enough. Nice enough. And smart enough. He seems to like you too—

A honk interrupts your thoughts. Always having to be obnoxious, huh?

“You’re annoying,” you mumble as you buckle your seatbelt. He just shrugs, tiny smile tugging his lips, and shifts into drive. The short trip to Waffle House proves more quiet than lively. He seems awake, actually, so you attribute the silence to your tumultuous thoughts. The music is nice, though. Bikini Kill is perfect for 10 am.

After you two order (three chocolate chip pancakes for him and two regular waffles with a side of hashbrowns for you), he finally breaks the silence.

“Hey, are we dating?”

You pause with your lip on the rim of your orange juice. Your gaze falls from his lips to his fingers wrapped around the coffee mug. Two silver rings adorn both his middle fingers and they glint underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Do you wanna?” You squint back up at him. The tips of his ears flush pink.

“I-uh… Yeah. Yes,” he says simply. You try to hide a smile, but realize there’s no point.

“Okay.” You take a long drink of your orange juice. “I really like you. A lot. A surprising amount, actually; I haven’t really dated seriously since highschool.”

He nods, shuffling his feet on the tile. What else does he have to be nervous about? you wonder.

“I’ve… kindasortamaybelikedyousincesophmoreyear,” he mumbles and you swallow.

“Huh?” Leaning forward, you set your glass down.

“Um,” he starts but doesn’t finish.

“Did you say you’ve liked me since sophomore year?”

“...Maybe.” His coffee becomes the most interesting thing in the world, apparently. “Do you remember that one time during the Summer Carnival where Karl lost his phone?”

“Uh—yes! Yeah, actually. I do remember that. He found it in the porta-potty. What about it?” The waitress sets down both your plates in front of you and you offer her a smile in thanks before she trundles off to the drink station. You pick up your fork and wait for him to continue.

“I left two hours early because you invited Michael from your computer science class.” You pause around your mouthful of potato and he just stares back, trying not to grin. “Yeah. I thought you were hot and left early because you brought another guy.”

“Michael is gay,” you say slowly.

“Yup.” He nods and shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Isn’t that so stupid?”

“So stupid,” you tease but your cheeks blush pink.

“Anyways. Now I’m dating you, so. Win for me.”

“Ditto,” you murmur, and manage to fit half of your first waffle into your mouth. “This is the easiest it’s ever been to start dating someone.”

“It’s ‘cause we’re cool, I’m pretty sure,” comes from a mouthful of pancake.

“That’s facts.”

The rest of Pancake House is bustling, a few families with young kids and some other hungover college students scarfing down similar breakfast foods and confections. You two barely give any other customers the time of day, too wrapped up in conversation and each other. The waitress gets a heavy tip after an hour and a half of struggling to swallow dough soaked in syrup and chocolate.

Sapnap walks you to your door after breakfast, hand on your waist and pressed to your side. It feels good. Right.

“I’ll see you Wednesday right?” You ask, turning to him with hopeful eyes. How could he resist?

“Definitely. Wouldn’t miss Game Night for the world— I can’t wait to beat your ass at Uno.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” You murmur but you’re already slinging an arm around his shoulder and bringing his mouth down to yours.

You taste like sugar, he thinks. His hands find the small of your back easily, pressing you further forward into him. You hum at that, tracking a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair to grip it between your fingers.

He smells both musky and sweet and cool at the same time: heaven. One of his hands slides up to grip at your neck, thumb rubbing at your jaw, and you make a pleased noise into his mouth. There it is.

“Y/N!” Shrieks from inside your house and you jump, pulling away from Sapnap with a smack.

“What?” You yell back, irritated, and he just laughs as he dips to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Stop tonguing your boyfriend and come help me with my photography project.”

“God damn it,” you sigh and drop your hands. His slide down to just rest on your hips, comfortable. “I have to go.” You're annoyed, that’s for sure, and he prays you aren’t too mean to your roommate.

“Alright.” He dips for a quick kiss one last time. Okay, two more times. Maybe three. But he pulls away, grinning. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

And then he’s stepping off your porch, walking to his car with his hands in his pockets. You watch his back fondly.

God, boyfriend. He’s your boyfriend. Boynap. Sapfriend. You can’t decide on a name, but all sounds perfect.

Perfectly him.

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. :D comments = welcome!

#sapnap #mcyt #sapnap x reader #sapnap x fem!reader #sapnap x you #sapnap fluff #sapnap fic #sapnap oneshot #mcyt imagine #bubblyhoneyfics #mcyt x you

473 notes · View notes

swbumblebee · 3 years

Text

What if Qui-Gon Jinn was not particularly special in his post-mortem abilities?

AKA “Old Ben” and his many Force parents.

They had all watched, their collective Force aura swamped in sadness, grief and longing, as Qui-Gon finally introduced himself to Obi-Wan.

They’d never call him ‘Old Ben’. The fact that he was only 40 years old notwithstanding, this was the boy they’d raised, grown up with, idolised. They remembered him toddling about the gardens, fascinated by the brightly coloured flowers; Getting shy around pretty people and developing awkward crushes. They remembered him standing alone at the head of an army, quietly confident and immeasurably capable. They had vivid memories of him carrying them back to the creche, so steady and strong; of his measured wisdom, and the confidence that Obi-Wan Kenobi would always triumph.

They remembered the mullet.

Nobody named “Old Ben” ever had a mullet.

The man they now, as they always had really, looked to for a light when everything else went dark.

They didn’t catch the murmured words. They were Jedi after all, (even if they were now technically one big Jedi rather than a temple full of Jedi) and eavesdropping was rude. Nobody listened to the sulky mutterings of the presence that was Quinlan Vos.

Their boy was nodding, sitting quietly on the floor whilst he finally, finally after weeks of careful and gentle persuasion, of them all keeping a tight rein on the order’s maverick (“Do not, we repeat do not, come out of the water tank. You’ll give him a cardiac arrest or something”) believed in the presence he saw before him.

They watched once more, pleased, as their missing piece allowed himself to be bullied to his feet, and guided over to the pile of blankets he called a bed.

They could feel Qui-Gon’s bitter relief as he perched next to his former student, his longing to pull the blankets up around his boy and smooth back his hair.

But words were all they had.

Still, as Obi-Wan Kenobi had shown the Galaxy; you could do a lot with words.

---

They’d argued (as much as an incorporeal fusion of spirits could argue) at length over who got to go next.

“I knew him longest, he’ll trust me!”

“He needs someone calm, measured. I will go”

“No offence Master Plo but you’ll make him cry. He needs cheering up, I’ll go!”

“Vos so help me Force-“

“I was the Master of the Order, I should do it”

“Master, we’re dead. I’m not sure seniority applies.”

In the end it was narrowed down to two options; Bant Erin, Obi-Wan’s oldest friend. Sweet natured and kind, she would be the perfect choice.

And Mace Windu.

It turns out seniority does still apply beyond the grave.

---

A small part of Obi-Wan’s subconscious was telling him that it was starting to get a bit awkward.

The transparent blue form of Mace Windu was looking down at him, the welcoming smile quickly turning into a grimace.

“…Obi-Wan?”

No. no no no this was not happening. He didn’t have time to go round the bend he had a child to protect!

He wasn’t sure if it was reasonable to measure sanity on the volume of dead loved ones he was hallucinating, but somehow one seemed saner than two.

Though it turns out he’s insane, and so not a good barometer of these things.

He knew his stare was starting to get very unnerving as his hysterical inner-ramblings reached a fever pitch.

“…Obi-Wan, are you alright?” Imaginary Mace Windu asked, concern and a tiny bit of nervousness showing on his face.

“I’m fine, how are you?” Obi-Wan asked, remembering a solid piece of advice from his formative years; Always fall back upon good manners when in unfamiliar territory Padawan mine.

Well, this was about as unfamiliar as it got.

Imaginary Mace looked at him, utterly baffled for a moment.

“Well…I’m dead, I suppose, is how I am” he answered awkwardly.

“Right. Obviously.” Obi-Wan nodded politely. “My condolences”

There was another awkward silence.

Imaginary Mace tilted his head for a moment, listening for something.

“Well…here I am” he said, spreading his arms a little.

“…yes.”

The other Jedi frowned at Obi-Wan’s strained reply and his act of scrubbing his hands down his face as if to wipe away the image in front of him.

“Qui-Gon didn’t…didn’t mention we were coming?” he asked tentatively.

Obi-Wan shook his head, wordlessly.

The frown on Imaginary Mace turned into a complete scowl as the pieces seemed to fall into place.

“JINN” he bellowed, and Obi-Wan felt it echo in the Force like nothing before.

“He can’t hear you, he’s with Yoda”

Another figure popped into existence next to Mace, and Obi-Wan rubbed his eyes once again as Depa Billaba bowed to him.

“Obi-Wan” she greeted with a grin.

“…hi” He took a deep breath, mentally cursing his absent-minded Master.

“Are you alright?” Depa didn’t stop for a reply as she looked down with him and gestured at him, gently instructing him to get up from the floor. “Oh look you’ve scraped your knee there! Master I knew you’d startle him!” she scolded her former Master.

It felt like he was having an out of body experience as Depa ushered him into a chair (the only chair in the hut), Mace looking on anxiously.

“There we go” Depa soothed as she got him settled “I wish we could make you some tea my friend.” She said disappointedly.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat.

“You ah…you can’t?” he asked, something permeating the haze. Of this whole situation, that seemed by far the most unfair thing.

Mace smiled encouragingly, seemingly happier to be on more binary ground.

“I’m afraid not, we are beings of the Force, like your Master.” He explained, before scowling again. “Who, I would kill if he weren’t already dead,” he growled.

“I’m so sorry Obi-Wan” Depa said, dismayed “We all wanted to come and be with you, but we though Qui-Gon might be best to start with, so as not to overwhelm you”

“Sorry about that” Mace said apologetically.

They sat in silence a moment, Depa and Mace watching him process.

For the first time ever, Obi-Wan had exactly zero thoughts in his head.

He was starting to feel the pressure.

“All?” he tried.

Depa and Mace looked at each other.

“You ah…you said ‘all wanted to come’” he clarified.

Depa nodded happily.

“Yes yes, we’re all there Obi-Wan” she smiled at him

“Any Jedi slain by a Sith, or the machinations of the Sith, is there” Mace explained.

Obi-Wan was having the slightest bit of trouble taking deep breaths. Neither of his companions seemed to have noticed.

“Where?” he asked, only mildly aware that his voice was getting just a little pitchy.

“In the Force, we’re all one in the Force” Depa started again, and then paused a little lost for words.

“We’re all together and we kind of…share our presences” Mace picked up, with difficulty “Everyone who was killed by Palpatine’s evil, everyone from us right down to the littlest initiate, we share one consciousness in the Force.”

Obi-Wan was none the wiser.

Mace waved a hand frustratedly.

“Sorry, Plo explains it better”

“Plo?” Obi-Wan loved Master Plo. He loved all of them. And they were gone.

“Hello Obi-Wan”

“Well, if Plo and Depa get to see him I’m bloody well here too!”

“Hi Obi”

“Obes!”

He could only watch, speechless, as the faces of old friends, comrades, mentors and carers crammed into his hut, all looking at him with unadulterated, unfiltered pleasure and love was the last thing he saw before his scrambled brain decided it’d had enough, and he knew nothing but darkness.

---

It turns out, living with the forms of all your dead teachers, carers and friends was actually rather trying, after a while.

“Oh thank goodness you’re not still drinking that awful caff”

“I like caff – Master Plo please don’t try and lift that”

“Relax Obi dear, we’re incorporeal”

“Can still see things though”

“Vos get out of my fresher!”

“What does this do?”

“Never you mind. No don’t – Ugh. Why don’t some nice, well behaved padawans ever come to see me?”

“They’re not allowed, only those who knew you personally can visit. We thought it might get a bit stressful otherwise.”

“…I can’t imagine.”

Aside from having to adapt his busy routine to accommodate half a dozen fidgety and curious…ghosts (?) poking around his small hut at any one time, another unexpected addition to his (attempted) isolation on Tatooine was the nagging. And Force could they nag! The concentrated worry of many, many, beings with nowhere else to direct their extra energies was powerful.

“Obi-Wan you haven’t drank enough today. Go and check the vaporators”

“Padawan aren’t you going to eat?”

“Listen, that plie of cloth can’t be good for your spine”

“Force! Get some sun block Kenobi or you’re going to look like an old shoe in three months”

“No right, I saw a sunhat he can buy at the market”

It was…weird. He’d always been very self-sufficient, not to mention being the centre of everyone’s attention was difficult, to say the least. But as the months went on, he found himself transitioning from awkward acquiescence to see-sawing between mulishness and good-natured obedience. The stubbornness rising usually when the despair did. But those days were few and far between.

And now, when they did occur (for one can only avoid one’s demons for so long) and he felt like he was drowning in the weight of existence, he could rely on his friends for encouragement, care, and the motivation to carry on.

“If you join us before your time I will KILL you Obi-Wan Kenobi. Now kriffing well eat something!”

---

Of course, when their brother, friend, son, comrade, teacher and last hope did at last join them, there was no nagging or disappointment (or violence). The ultimate Jedi was back in the fold and they were once again complete.

#And they're fussing #Obi-Wan Kenobi #mace windu #I See Dead Jedi #depa billaba #jedi order #fluff?#snippet of nothing

209 notes · View notes

alltooreid · 3 years

Text

Call It What You Want

Everyone around them is trying to discover the true nature of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship. Little do they know Y/N is trying to figure out the exact same thing.

A/N: Sorry this took a lot longer than I wanted it to.... Mental health is hard but here it is!! I hope you guys love it :)) Additionally I added a lil garvez to this... but for it to work with the timeline we’re all just gonna pretend Lisa doesn’t exist... ok great!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (with a little splash of implied Garvez content for my personal joy)

Requested?: Yes!! :)) “can you do a one shot based off call it what you want??”

Type: Fluffiest Fluff

Word Count: 3K

Content Warnings: None!

“My baby's fly like a jet stream High above the whole scene Loves me like I'm brand new So call it what you want, yeah, call it what you want to”

The team was sure something was going on between Y/N and Spencer, they just weren’t sure how to prove it.

Every sign pointed to the two dating, but the pair hadn’t said anything about it. Maybe they were trying to keep it a secret, but at the same time they didn’t appear to be being very secretive about it.

So ever since Penelope saw Y/N giving Spencer a ride home a week ago, she has been determined to uncover the truth, and hopefully the truth was her two best friends were in the world’s cutest, most perfect relationship.

She was using her technical brilliance to gather data when she was caught by none other than Luke Alvez.

“What are you doing in here?”

“This is my job Luke, I have to be in here,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well, I know that! I mean what are you doing right now, we don’t have a case.” he smirked “Are you committing any cyber crimes? You know you could get in a lot of trouble for those, the FBI won’t help you. You should let me help.”

She smiled, “You do know I got my job here from committing cyber crimes right? I don’t think I would need your help. Besides, I’m working on a personal project.” After some thought she decided Luke might actually be helpful “I’m trying to find out if Spencer and Y/N are dating.”

“I swear I saw them leaving together yesterday, that seems like pretty good evidence! I could be very helpful to you.”

“I’m way ahead of you, but I guess you can help,” she pulled up a new tab, quickly constructing a timeline while Luke pulled a chair next to her. “So our favorite pair’s relationship would, based on my intense experimentation and surveying, begin here,” she traced a circle around the start of the timeline with her cursor, “on that night we went out after the case and then wouldn’t stop talking to each other.”

Luke and Penelope discussed all the things they saw that led them to believe that Y/N and Spencer were more than just friends, from how keen Y/N was to listen to anything that came out of Spencer’s mouth no matter how difficult to follow, to Spencer’s willingness to touch her. After about 15 minutes however they were interrupted by none other than Y/N herself. Penelope quickly switched tabs, so that it now appeared she was just showing Luke a funny kitten video.

“Hey guys! What are you doing in here?” “Oh you know, just wasting time. . . What’s up?” said Luke.

“I was just checking to see if you wanted to go to lunch! If you have any opinions as to where that would be great too because no one out there can make a decision . . .”

“Of course I want lunch! I’ll be out there in just a sec,” Penelope smiled and started closing her work done as soon as Y/N left, almost forgetting Luke’s presence.

“Um, Penelope?”

“What is it Luke?”

“Do you think you’d ever do anything like what Y/N and Spencer are doing?” he asked.

“Like what? Keep a secret? You know I’m terrible at that stuff.”

“No, no I mean like . . .” he took a deep breath, “You know, like dating a coworker?”

“What does that have to do with anything? Now hurry up and come to lunch, we can keep working afterwards,” she replied.

Luke awkwardly smiled, and they both left.

Little did Luke and Penelope know that as they debated and pieced together aspects of Y/N and Spencer’s relationship, trying to uncover if they were dating, Y/N was doing the exact same thing.

Her and Spencer had been on three dates, each more boyfriend and girlfriend than the last. They got coffee one day, then went to a movie, then a nice restaurant for dinner. Tonight Spencer wanted to keep it a surprise, but that just made her even more confused.

Sometimes her and Spencer would sit next to each other at the round table, and now when they did that he would reach over, not to hold her hand, but just to link their pinkies together.

She didn’t know what that meant.

Sometimes Y/N would go on a tangent and realize she had been talking for almost an hour about nothing in particular, and when she realized Spencer was the only one still listening would apologize for wasting his time. To which he would reply, “Why would I be upset about spending time with you?” She didn’t know what that meant.

And one time, on her and Spencer’s first “date” they were about to part their separate directions, and Y/N had no idea what to do with her body or her hands, Spencer wrapped her into a hug, and she swore she felt his lips brushing against the top of her head.

She really didn’t know what that meant.

Which is why she continued to let Penelope and Luke have their fun trying to decipher her and Spencer’s social cues. She knew as soon as she was about to enter to ask about lunch, Penelope was not exactly quiet and Luke wasn’t any better, but she let them believe they were being sneaky.

Besides, maybe if they found the answer they could let her know.

When the team returned from lunch she couldn’t help but continue to contemplate this issue further, Spencer hadn’t really said anything to her at lunch. Were they still just friends? Were they dating but not telling anyone? Were they going to tell anyone?

“Y/N! Are you excited to hang out tonight?” Spencer asked.

Hang out. So it definitely was not a date. . .

“Of course! Right after work right? Your place?”

“Yep! It’s a date,” he smiled and walked away, leaving Y/N in a state of confused panic. What was this? For someone so logical and scientific, Y/N wished that Spencer Reid would just tell her the kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, and genus of their relationship.

Maybe then she could stop dissecting it to try and figure it out.

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

As Y/N stood outside Spencer’s apartment building, she struggled to muster up courage to go inside. It’s not that she was nervous to hang out with Spencer, it was just Y/N knew she needed to have the “what are we” talk with him for her own personal sanity. And she just wasn’t sure yet what his answer would be.

She had made her way into the building and gotten to Spencer’s floor when she ran into the man of the hour himself.

“Oh there you are! I was about to come down and get you,” he said.

Y/N glanced at her phone, “I’m sorry, am I late?”

“No, no, no. You’re perfect, I just got excited.”

That confused Y/N even more, she couldn’t decide if that leaned more towards friend or date territory. However all of her anxieties were forgotten for a moment as soon as she entered Spencer’s apartment.

Almost all the lights were off, except for several strings of lights shaped like stars, strung in different directions across the room. In the corner were several folded up blankets and sheets, and pillows were spread out across the room.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it, although if I’m being honest I don’t really know what it is . . .”

“13 months ago we were on a case, the one were the unsub was killing couples when they went out camping so that no one would look for them for days, and you said that you used to go camping all the time but you didn’t think you could go anymore. So I bought stuff so we could go camping together, right here.”

Y/N was left almost speechless, “I- I don’t even know what to say, Spencer this is incredible.”

He beamed, instantly satisfied with that answer. “I tried to find a tent, but all of the stores I went to said I should order one online . . . I figured it would be more fun to build a fort instead.”

Spencer brought over the supplies he had bought and gathered, various sheets and comforters, pillows, his leather couch cushions, sleeping bags, a large collection of clothes pins, and some more lights. Except Spencer left a single bag in the pile, the only one from a craft store.

“Do you want me to grab that one?” Y/N asked.

“Oh um, no don’t worry about that one. I saw something stupid on that site JJ and Garcia really like while I was passing JJ’s desk. . . Pinterest? Yes that’s it. And I tried to make it but even though I memorized the instructions I couldn’t get it to work. . . I kind of just gave up and threw everything in there.”

“Can I try it?”

He nodded, and Y/N got up and glanced into the bag, in it was a push light, warm toned tissue paper and a couple empty paper towel rolls, all stuck together, but also somehow falling apart. Y/N couldn’t help but smile, “Were you trying to build me a campfire Dr. Reid?”

“Well you said that your family used to have this big bonfire every year, and that it used to be one of your favorite traditions until you couldn’t handle going anymore, so I thought I could make one that would be a little safer for you. Turns out that you actually need four PHDs to be good at crafts though.”

“Spencer this whole date is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me . . . Thank you.”

“Of course, I really want you to enjoy yourself when you're around me Y/N.”

“Spencer, I’ve never not enjoyed myself when I’m around you, and you were with me when I got shot. You’re my favorite person, you do know that right?”

He blushed, “You’re my favorite person too Y/N.”

So the two lovers built a blanket fort, draping sheets over string lights and shoving the inside full of pillows and blankets, giggling the entire time. Y/N taught Spencer the simplicity of DIY projects, and how sometimes the directions needed to be adjusted slightly based on personal preferences and ability. Soon the pair were cuddled up together on the ground, no other space to be except for right next to each other, as the rest of the fort was covered by snacks, pillows, their homemade campfire, and Spencer’s vinyl record player.

“Did you do this on purpose? Making me be so close to you?”

“No, I would never, it’s not my fault this area is so small . . . “

“Mhm, although I’m sure a genius like you could figure out how to make an adult sized fort, I’m very glad you didn’t,” she said, giggling and squishing herself closer to him. They smiled and kissed each other, before Spencer spoke.

“You make me so, unbelievably, happy. I never thought I could feel like this until we met Y/N.”

Y/N smiled even bigger, “Spencer I really, really like you,” she paused, it was now or never, “but um, what do you want to call this, like what we’re doing.”

“Well what do you want this to be? Because I want you to be my girlfriend.”

She smiled, “I want you to be my boyfriend.”

“Well then that’s what we’ll be,” he said, kissing her on the forehead.

“Well you do know the team, particularly Penelope and Luke have the exact same question.”

“Well I think more than Luke wondering if we’re dating, I think he’s just wondering if Penelope will date him. . . So I say let them have their fun for a little while, before we tell everyone.”

She smiled, “Perfect. They’re profilers, they’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Well, I think we should watch a movie. . . Although I mostly enjoy my cinema in Russian, tonight is about you and I don’t want to give you a headache. What’s your favorite?”

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“I promise I will not laugh at you darling.”

“High School Musical 3.”

　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　　♡　

So Y/N spent the rest of that night explaining the plot of the first two High School Musical movies, then explaining why the third one was the clear winner, and then finally showing Spencer the third one off of her phone, where she had it saved to her cloud for emergencies.

And although singing and dancing adults pretending to be teenagers was not exactly Spencer’s favorite genre, he loved how happy the series as a whole made Y/N. So he latched onto it, and learned as much as he could about it.

One particular scene however, in one of the earlier films, seemed to make Y/N extra excited, as she spent the longest amount of time talking about it. So Spencer decided he knew exactly what to do to prove to her he was in this relationship for the long haul.

Spencer could tell she was anxious before their date, and it didn’t take him long to guess that it was because she didn’t know how serious everything was to him. Yet, he didn’t want to be too obvious that he wanted her to be his, because if he had assessed wrong he would make a complete fool out of himself.

But when she asked him, she seemed so nervous, so small, he knew he had made a mistake in waiting, and now he wanted to make it up to her.

So as she was walking in the next day he caught her. “Y/N!”

“Hi Spencer! What’s up?”

“I have a present for you. . .” he said, handing her a small box wrapped in shiny gold paper.

“For me? Why?”

“Oh you know, just because. . .”

As Y/N unwrapped the box, Spencer got more and more nervous… What if she hated it? What if she thought it was stupid or too soon or didn’t get it or-

“Oh my god Spencer I-”

“You know what it’s stupid, I don’t even know why I got it for you. I can return it and find you something you’ll actually like-”

“I love it Spencer, it’s perfect. Will you put it on me?”

Spencer hooked the chain around his new girlfriend’s neck, the small “S” pendant shining in the light.

“It’s like Gabriella’s. . . I love it. I can’t believe you would care to remember something like that…”

“Of course I would remember that. I have an eidetic memory. Did you know that although the original purpose and origin of initial jewelry was largely unknown, they date back to the 14th century?”

“No, I just mean… It’s very thoughtful Spencer.”

He smiled, “Well I’m sorry to kill the mood, but I really have to go to the bathroom. I drank 3 cups of coffee this morning and I was standing here waiting for you for 18 minutes and 4 seconds before you came in.”

She laughed, and then hugged him, “Well don’t just stand here! Go!”

Spencer ran off, leaving Y/N to walk into the bullpen alone. As Y/N was making her way to her desk, she was stopped by none other than Penelope Garcia and Luke Alvez, Penelope up front, Luke standing a foot or so behind her, ready to back her up.

“Y/N! We know your secret, you and Spencer are secretly dating. . . We figured it out this morning. You can’t hide from us anymore,” Penelope said, Luke nodding behind her.

“Well yeah we’re dating, but it’s not a secret.”

“What? Excuse me? You haven’t told anyone!”

“Yeah but we haven’t really made any effort to hide it? We told everyone about the time we went to the movies?”

“Yeah but- Um, we just thought we were being sneaky. . .” Penelope said.

“You might wanna get a little better at that guys, the Bat Cave is not soundproof.”

“Dang it, I really need to work on that…” Penelope said. “Well Luke Alvez, I suppose our quest has been conquered.”

“See! We were right, I told you I’m great help,” Luke said.

“Oh don’t get it too twisted, this was almost all me.”

After a moment of playful banter, Y/N stopped them “So when are you two going to start “secretly” dating huh?”

“Uh hmph, I don’t know what you talking about. I would never,” Penelope said.

At that moment, Spencer returned from the bathroom, and came up upon Y/N hugging her from behind and leaning to rest his head on her shoulder. “What are we talking about?”

Penelope threw her head back in defeat, “Nothing, 187, we were just talking. . .”

“Don’t you think Luke and Penelope would make the cutest couple Spencer?” Y/N smirked.

“You know what? Yeah I do!” Spencer played along, “Have you guys ever thought about that?

Luke was beaming behind Penelope, while she looked like she was trying to hide her enthusiasm. “No actually I haven’t,” she said.

“Well you definitely should,” Y/N said, giggling as her and Spencer walked to his desk.

“Hey, wait come back here! What does your necklace have on it?” Penelope asked, half running after them, Luke closely behind her.

“Whatever you want Penelope, whatever you want.”

“I want to wear his initial On a chain round my neck, chain round my neck Not because he owns me But 'cause he really knows me”

Thank you so much for reading!! Please reblog and let me know what you think :)))

holly’s tiny taglist: @reidingmelodies @hercleverboy @rigatonireid @muffin-cup @takeyourleap-of-faith @wheelsup @s1utformgg @averyhotchner @widow-cevans @rotinireid

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed :))

487 notes · View notes