#and what annoys me is that she’d completely understand if it wasn’t to do with transitioning

[the-casbah-way]

i’ve long since given up on the fantasy of an Accepting Family but i’m kind of tired of my mother pretending she’ll ‘try’ and support my transition only for her to turn around and tell me i’m making a mistake and i’m making her sad by doing it and also refusing to help me with even the tiniest things. i asked if she would drive me to my bloods appointment tomorrow because i don’t drive and i’m terrified of blood tests and i always faint afterwards so i don’t want to have to walk back home which takes over an hour. and she said no even though she’s not busy with anything else and it’s a short drive. she just doesn’t want to. and i’m not trying to act like a spoilt bitch who expects to get chauffeured everywhere but i would rather she stop pretending to be ‘trying’ when she doesn’t actually act like it at all

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act I, Scene II: The Crude Suggestion)

A provocative joke leads Spencer to contemplate, yet ultimately avoid, a crucial conversation with you.

Part warning: a little suggestive comment and two idiots being stubborn Words: 2.1k A/n: I want to remind you that each part doesn’t necessarily follow one another, the story focuses on their relationship and not on the cases being told. This is just a collection of shenanigans and nothing too serious!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

There was something about being in the middle of nowhere for a case. Maybe not exactly nowhere—you knew where you were, you could pinpoint this city on a map, but there wasn’t the same bustle and constant noise you were used to in Quantico. The relative quiet was unsettling, yet oddly comforting.

Although nothing was comforting about checking the crime scene deep in a forest in broad daylight. It was a small, unnaturally circular clearing where the grass was trampled down in places, and in the center was the remains of what you were there to investigate.

“So,” you started, your eyes scanning the place. “Do you think the Unsub uses these remote areas to avoid detection, or is he just a fan of the great—albeit bland—outdoors?”

Spencer glanced at you from the other side of the clearing.

“Statistically speaking, the isolation could serve to minimize the risk of witnesses. However, it’s also plausible that the Unsub finds comfort in solitude. Or maybe he just dislikes traffic.”

“Dislikes traffic,” you repeated, deadpan. “Yes, because serial killers are really just misunderstood commuters.”

Just as Spencer was about to retort with what you assumed would be a wildly thrilling statistic about traffic patterns and criminal behavior, Emily’s voice cut through the tension. “Can’t you two ever not bicker for more than five minutes?”

You turned to her. “I’m just trying to get a straightforward answer. But apparently, that’s too much to ask for.”

“I’m giving you a range of possibilities, which is what profiling is about. Sorry if that’s too complicated for you to understand.”

“Oh, I understand completely,” you replied, matching his tone. “I just find that half of your theories are unnecessary.”

Spencer’s eyes narrowed. “The depth of analysis ensures we don’t overlook anything. It’s thorough, not unnecessary.”

“You call it thorough. I call it overthinking.”

Emily stepped between you, raising a hand. “Alright, enough. Can we focus on the case now?”

“He started it,” you couldn’t resist muttering under your breath as you moved to another part of the clearing.

“Me? You were the one who—”

Emily cut him off with a loud, exasperated sigh, tilting her head back as if seeking divine intervention, before turning her gaze sharply back to both of you.

“Most people go to therapy to deal with this much-unresolved tension,” she remarked dryly. Then, fixing you with a pointed look, she added, “You know what else might help?”

You frowned, glancing towards her. “What?”

Emily paused dramatically, her gaze shifting from you to Spencer and back again at you, lingering a little too long. She didn’t say anything, but the way she raised her brows and the smirk playing on her lips, you knew what she was implying. It was as if there was an unspoken code that only years of friendship between women could understand.

You looked away, a slight burn along our cheeks.

Spencer, still oblivious, looked from Emily to you, confusion written all over his face. "What? What are you talking about?”

“Well—”

“No!” You stopped her. “Don’t listen to her.”

Spencer’s confusion deepened, his gaze shifting from you to Emily, trying to decipher the underlying message. Emily’s smirk only widened, clearly enjoying the discomfort she’d stirred up.

“You should ask Y/N,” she said, her tone teasing. “I’m sure she knows some great ideas for... tension relief.”

You felt your face heat up even more, and you shot Emily a warning look, partly annoyed and partly embarrassed by her insinuation. But she simply just laughed, and when a sudden car pulled up near them, Emily found a way to escape.

“Oh, look, the sheriff is here,” she said, swiftly changing the subject. “You guys check the area while I talk to him.”

Emily walked off to meet the sheriff, leaving you and Spencer alone in awkward silence. You turned away, eager to divert your attention back to work when you felt him hang back slightly to walk with you.

He seemed to hesitate before speaking. “What was she referring to?”

You glanced at him, trying to gauge his reaction, wondering if he was genuinely confused or just looking for a way to keep the conversation light.

"Nothing," you replied with a dismissive shrug, keeping your eyes on the ground ahead. “She was joking.”

“I could tell, but what about?”

You paused, realizing that the vague explanations weren't going to satisfy him this time. His analytical mind was both a blessing and a curse in moments like these.

"She was suggesting—jokingly—that we might relieve our constant bickering... through more unconventional methods."

"Unconventional methods?"

“Sex, Reid. She was implying sex.”

His face instantly turned a shade of red, perhaps deeper than you had ever seen before. He blinked a few times, clearly taken aback by the bluntness of your clarification.

"Oh," he managed to stutter out, the usual fluency of his speech faltering under the weight of the topic. He bit his bottom lip, a nervous habit that you had come to recognize as his attempt to buy time while he gathered his thoughts. 

“That’s…”

“Crazy, right?” You pressed on. “I mean, nothing good will come out if we start blurring pleasure and professional lines like that.”

There, you said it, an underlining of your words that carried more weight than the immediate conversation. You wondered if he understood your double meaning, and maybe he did, because his gaze met yours sharply.

He exhaled, his demeanor shifting as he processed not just Emily's joke but also the deeper reference to that night—the one neither of you spoke about but still lingered between you.

“Right,” he finally responded, his voice firm, yet there was a hint of something else you couldn’t quite decipher. “Nothing good at all.”

“It would only complicate things.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s a bad idea.”

“The worst.”

For a moment, you both stood there, the forest around you fading into the background. You broke the silence first, turning away from him. "We should finish up here. There's still a lot of ground to cover."

With those words, you moved ahead, feeling his gaze on your back. The crunch of leaves under his steps echoed as he followed in silence.

It would only complicate things… as if it wasn’t already complicated in the first place.

Spencer looked over to where you stood; it was clear you were trying to avoid him for the past hour. He watched as you meticulously examined every leaf and twig, your focus seeming more like an escape than an investigation.

He knew he should say something, perhaps bridge the gap with an apology or an olive branch of some sort, but every potential word seemed to catch in his throat. It seemed like a constant cycle of hesitation and missed opportunities. Every time he thought to speak, doubt would claw its way back, holding him silent. 

He wondered if perhaps it was the same for you.

“Hey,” Emily’s voice filled the silence as she joined back. “Did you find anything?”

Spencer’s train of thought was abruptly interrupted by Emily’s arrival. He straightened up, quickly shifting his focus back to the present. He gestured towards the markings on the ground that you both had been examining.

“We might have found something.” 

Emily crouched beside you, eyes scanning the evidence with practiced ease. “You think this is from our Unsub?”

You nodded, offering the specifics, “The pattern and depth suggest it’s not natural. And the spacing might give us an idea about the size and weight of the Unsub.”

“I’ll get the forensics team to take a closer look.” She stood up, looking between you and Spencer. “You two okay here?”

“Yes, we’re fine,” Spencer answered quickly, a bit too eagerly. You simply nodded without saying a word.

“Alright, maybe I like it better when you both bicker.”

He saw you shrug nonchalantly. “I’m gonna check the other side,” you announced before walking away.

"She's avoiding me," he stated, a note of helplessness threading through his voice.

“Can you blame her?”

“What?” He asked, his voice tinged with defensiveness. “So it's my fault?”

“Well… did you do anything wrong?”

There was a pause before he glanced away, his mind racing through that night. “Maybe,” he admitted, his voice low, almost reluctant. 

"There you go, you have your answer.” 

He shifted from one foot to the other, visibly uncomfortable, as his fingers twitched at his sides. “Do you think we’re overreacting?”

She sighed. “Look, I don't know the details of what happened, and as much as I want to help, it’s between you two. The way I see it, you have two options: either resolve the problem or continue bickering.”

He frowned, mulling over her words. He glanced toward you and faltered for a moment, noticing the glare you were throwing him even from the other side of the clearing. It was clear you didn’t want to engage in any type of conversation with him.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to stick with bickering.”

Emily laughed. “Really? You don’t want to consider my suggestion earlier?” When she caught the blush creeping on his cheeks, her grin widened. “Finally caught on what I meant?”

His blush deepened, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Oh, yeah, well, that's definitely not an appropriate solution," he stammered, trying to regain his composure. Collecting himself, he latched onto a more comfortable territory—facts. 

"Actually, according to a study, about 20% of workplace relationships lead to marriage, but they can also significantly complicate professional dynamics, increasing the potential for conflicts of interest.”

Emily simply smiled, clearly amused at how flustered he was. Her silence only urged him to continue.

"And, well, that doesn't even begin to cover the fallout if things don't work out. The workplace can become, um, a challenging environment for both parties involved. It's just... it's tricky."

Spencer winced to himself, because ironically, the fallout was already happening. The situation he was theorizing about in vague terms was unfolding right in front of him.

"It sounds like you're speaking from experience.”

“I’m not!” He responded almost too fast. “I’m not.”

She studied him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed his reaction. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze dropping to the ground. The quick denial had been too sharp, too reflexive, and now he felt cornered by his own reactions.

“I’m not,” he insisted again. “I just... I mean, I've read a lot about it. You know, studies, research papers, it's nothing personal."

Emily nodded slowly, not entirely convinced but choosing not to push further. "If you say so.”

Her eyes lingered on him for a while, and when she realized the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, she turned around and left him.

“Where are you going?”

“Comforting her,” she called out, walking backward. “Something you should’ve done.”

He watched Emily walk away, her words stinging more than he wanted to admit. Then his eyes traveled to you, and it was as if you could sense his lingering stare, you looked up and met his gaze.

Anger. Annoyance. It was what he caught in your eyes before you quickly masked it with a neutral expression. The intensity of that brief exchange was enough to make him realize just how deep the rift between you had gone.

Spencer knew talking about it was the mature thing to do, but he also feared that bringing up that conversation might only open another can of worms. He felt stuck, unsure if addressing the issue would heal or harm. So he went back to being a coward and turned in the opposite direction.

It was for the better. You didn’t want to talk to him anyway.

[moonstruckme]

Hey Mae! I love your work sm. I’m submitting a request because right now I’m dealing with some really crazy friend drama and while I’m mostly handling it okay it’s still a lot! Your fics bring me a lot of comfort- especially your James fics- and I was wondering if could do James comforting reader because of friend drama.

Totally okay if you can’t and thanks for listening either way!

<3 M

Thanks for requesting M, hope your drama is causing you a bit less stress these days! <3

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 838 words

“And when I asked her she said she wasn’t upset, but I could tell, you know?” You’re sitting with your hands trapped under your thighs on the kitchen counter and your back against the cabinets as James makes a sauce for your pasta on the stove. 

Your boyfriend makes a dissatisfied tsking sound. “Upset in general or upset with you?” 

“Upset with me,” you clarify, sighing. It’s been an exhausting afternoon. “She gets like this sometimes. She’s all huffy and snaps at me whenever I say anything, but if anyone brings it up she’ll say she’s fine. I don’t know why it always seems to be me.” 

James makes a sad face, kissing you on the cheek. “M’sorry, lovie. Then what happened?” 

“Then, we were just, you know.” Your fingers wiggle underneath your thighs, wanting to fidget with something, but you’d put them under there in the first place to keep from picking at your hangnail. It’s not unusual for you to come home from a hangout with your friends eager to gossip with James, but today’s weighing heavily on you. “We were just walking around, trying to find somewhere to eat. Everyone else was acting like everything was fine so I was trying to go with it, but any time I talked she’d snipe at me like I was being so annoying. And I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong.

“After a while, one of the girls asked if she was alright, and she said she was, but then almost right after that I was talking to someone else and she got really pissed off with me—I don’t even remember what it was, honestly, something about me asking a dumb question—and I just—I completely snapped.”

James looks over at you, eyes widening slightly behind his glasses. You look down at your lap.

“I don’t know, I don’t think any of the things I said were wrong, but I feel—” Your voice tightens and thins, tears pressing at your eyes. “—really bad for raising my voice like that. And now she won’t speak to me.” 

“Oh,” James sets down his spoon, “baby.” 

“Uh oh,” you joke weakly. James only calls you baby when he’s feeling particularly sorry for you. 

He leaves his sauce to simmer, nudging your legs apart and stepping between them. His hands land on your lower back, his head on your shoulder. You slip a hand free from under your leg to cup the back of his head, fingers sinking into downy curls. 

“I’ve made things awkward for everyone now,” you say in a small voice. “She’s always angry, but I was the one who shouted. It’s my fault there’s conflict.” 

“I really doubt anyone sees it that way,” says James. His palm that’s higher up on your back is rubbing up and down consolingly. “Anyone who knows you knows that you’re not one to shout. But we’re all bound to get a little riled up sometimes, and by the sound of it you’d just reached the end of your tether, lovely. I think your friends will understand that.” 

“I don’t know.” You began this conversation hoping to keep up a light front, but you’re starting to sound terribly glum. “I know they’ll all be upset if we don’t make up. I think I need to apologize.” 

“Why not her?” 

“She won’t do it.” 

James sighs, leaning back so he can see you and cupping the side of your neck. His thumb strokes your cheek. “If you think that’s what you need to do,” he says frownily. “I just want to say for the record, though, that you haven’t done anything wrong. She sounds like she deserved to be shouted at.” 

You feel a little bit lighter after one of his world-class hugs, your lips tugging upwards. “Oh, yeah? And that’s your totally unbiased opinion, is it?” 

“Totally,” he swears, lifting three fingers in a salute. “Scout’s honor.” 

You let out a little laugh and pinch him on the bicep, where there’s ridiculously little yield. James grins and retaliates by catching your hand, holding it captive as he leans forward, kissing you soundly. 

“You were never in boyscouts,” you mumble against his lips. 

“Could’a been.” He kisses the corner of your mouth, your chin. “I like to consider myself an honorary member.” 

“Pretty sure that doesn’t count.” 

“Oh? And how would you know?”

James’ face is up close and personal with yours, eyes flirty and hand placed intentionally high on your thigh. If you blinked, your eyelashes would be centimeters away from brushing his glasses. 

“You’re distracting me,” you say. 

He smiles, half sheepish. It seeps through your warming skin. “It was working, too. Let me keep trying?” 

You roll your eyes, but you know James can see the grin you’re fighting to suppress. “Sure, fine.” 

“Excellent.” He dots a quick kiss on your chin and squeezes your thigh before stepping back in front of the stove. “Get the pasta out for me, please, lovie? I can hardly ravish you on an empty stomach.”

[lumosandnoxwriting]

look at you || Fred Weasley

Title: Look at you Pairing: Fred x Reader Summary: distance really does make the heart grow fonder. Warnings: NSFW - minors DNI! This contains, vaginal sex, female receiving oral, breeding kink, mentions of cum marking, dirty talk, praise, mentions of sex toys/sexting and pregnant sex.  A/N: hockey!fred could hit me with his car and I would say thank you. Anyway as always this is dedicated to @darthwheezely b/c she always encourages my shenanigans. 

The away games are always the hardest. 

Fred is usually gone for a week, and between traveling, playing multiple games and the time differences they mainly communicate via text and maybe a phone call if they’re lucky. At first the lack of communication bothered Y/N. They moved across the country after Fred got drafted and it felt isolating to have the only person she knew in Washington unavailable most of the time. But now that Fred’s in the fourth year of his contract Y/N is a pro at handling the distance. Her and a bunch of the other WAGS always get together to watch the games at someone’s house, and usually do dinner or brunch on some of the days the guys are gone. And now that she’s working and more involved in the area she’s got plenty of friends and activities to keep her busy while Fred is away. 

She figured this season would be just like the others, that it would suck while Fred is gone but she’d just keep busy until he was back home in their bed. 

Until those two little pink lines stared up at her from the bathroom counter the night before training camp started. She wasn’t totally surprised at the result, considering her and Fred had been together for a decade, married for half of that and regularly relying on the pullout method as their main form of contraception. And of course they’d talked about having kids, but their general consensus had been that they would start trying once the season was underway, hoping to time it just right that their baby would be born at the beginning of the off season, so they could spend the first few months as a complete family unit before hockey took over Fred’s life again. 

But of course life decided to say fuck their plans, and now Y/N is due to give birth just before playoffs begin in April. 

Y/N had thought that having Fred gone during her first trimester would be the worst part of it, having to deal with morning sickness and those first few doctors appointments by herself. But the nausea and vomiting left her feeling so gross she was glad Fred didn’t have to see her like that, and they were able to work with her doctor so that Fred didn’t miss a single appointment. 

It’s now, with Y/N into her second trimester that Fred’s absence seems to be hitting her the hardest. Her bump has finally popped, and she can barely keep her hands from stroking over the smooth skin at all hours of the day. The baby has started to move around too, starting off as gently flutters she assumed was gas that have now grown into distinctive pushes against her belly. Not to mention the nausea and vomiting that plagued her first few months of pregnancy have faded away, and Y/N finally understands what people say when they talk about pregnancy glow. Her skin is the clearest and softest it’s ever been, and her hair and nails look amazing thanks to her prenatal vitamins. 

And just as she passed the five month mark her newest, and most annoying to deal with on her own, pregnancy symptom started. 

She’s unbelievably horny every hour of the day. 

Her newly filed out breasts constantly ache, and some days her nipples are so sensitive just the material of her bra sends a shiver down her spine. Her pussy is almost constantly slick, her clit throbbing and her cunt aching to be filled. Once the seam of her maternity jeans pulled so deliciously against her as she was driving that she nearly crashed the car as she came from that brush alone. 

Everything seems to turn her on these days, no matter how inconvenient the time or place is. 

Like right now, the guys are on the last leg of their longest away game stretch, the final game of a two and a half week trip, and her cunt is dripping as she watches Fred punch the other team’s center in the jaw. Not only is it inconvenient because she’s sitting on Melaine, the goalie’s girlfriend’s couch, but because Fred isn’t due back home until tomorrow afternoon and she passed out last night before she could put her vibrator back on the charger. And her own fingers will never live up to the memories of how worked up Fred gets after a fight, and how the only thing that seems to calm him down is taking Y/N from behind as he growls in her ear. 

She tries to shift subtly as the ref throws Fred in the sin bin, his mouth still moving wildly as he throws insults at the other team, but when Rachel throws her a look Y/N knows she’s been caught. Rachel is the wife of one of the defensemen, and had been heavily pregnant for most of last year’s season, so Y/N figures she knows exactly how she’s feeling right now. 

“Tomorrow afternoon can’t come soon enough,” Rachel teases, voice low enough so only the two of them can hear. 

Y/N snorts in laughter, nodding in agreement. “You have no idea.”

-

Fred throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he rushes towards his truck, causing his teammates to laugh even harder. The bus had barely stopped before he was up out of his seat and making his way to the front, far too eager to get home to Y/N. Because the texts she’s been sending since he got off the ice last night have had him perpetually hard in his pants and the only thing on his mind is getting home to his wife. 

He drives well over the speed limit on his way home, praying to whatever deity that exists out there he won’t get pulled over, since he’s pretty sure his urgent need to fuck his wife is not a good enough excuse to get out of a ticket. The car is barely in park as Fred throws the door open, hockey bag left behind in his haste to get inside. In a matter of a few seconds he’s barreling through the front door, taking the time to lock it behind him before he heads for the stairs. 

“Baby?” he calls as he climbs, ripping his shirt off as he goes. He pauses to kick his shoes off, just letting them tumble back down as he continues up. 

“Hi,” Y/N greets breathlessly when Fred appears in their doorway. Her eyes are immediately drawn to the way his jeans hang open, his cock clearly fighting against the material of his boxers. 

Fred groans as he takes Y/N in, cock throbbing at the way she kneels on their bed in nothing but his jersey. The curve of her bump is visible even in the oversized garment, and Fred almost can’t believe that this is his life. He makes a living playing the sport he loves and every night he gets to come home to the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen who’s beauty has only grown as he watches his child grow inside of her. 

“Fucking hell,” he practically growls as he steps into the room, his complete focus on Y/N. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are, wife? That picture of your pretty pink pussy all wet and begging for my cock has been driving me crazy. I couldn’t sleep knowing you were all alone in our bed, desperate for my cock wearing nothing but my jersey.”

Y/N practically pants as Fred stalks toward her, hands clenched in fists at her sides to try and resist the urge to touch herself. She had to give herself a pep talk before taking the photo she sent, so to see Fred’s reaction to it here in the flesh makes her cunt throb with want. Before falling asleep Y/N had managed to work herself up to a few weak orgasms with her fingers, but those are nothing in comparison to what she knows Fred is about to give her. 

“Sexy?” she asks teasingly. Fred has finally made it to the edge of the bed, and she runs her hands up his arms and over his shoulders, resting her palms against the sides of his neck. “Even with my big old bump in the way?” 

“Especially with your big bump in the way,” Fred practically purrs. He finally gives in to his urge to touch his wife, one hand hooking around her thigh while the other fists the front of her jersey, yanking her closer to him. “Just knowing that you’re full of my baby, that I did that to you is enough to make me cum, something I know you’re well aware of.”

And she knows Fred isn’t lying. He’d always been possessive in the bedroom, and it only intensified when she got pregnant. Once her bump popped Fred was like a man possessed, needing to have one hand on it at all times. He’s finished on her bump more times than Y/N can count, rubbing his cum into her skin so he can claim her fully. 

Instead of responding Y/N lets Fred pull her into a kiss, her fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his skull as he nibbles on her bottom lip. He claims her mouth with his, crawling up on the bed so he can get even closer. The hand he had on her jersey makes its way up to cup her jaw, angling Y/N’s face so he can kiss her deeper, while the one that was on her thigh starts to travel further up.  

“Fuck,” Fred moans into her mouth as his hand brushes her bare hip. “No panties? Dirty girl.” He lets his hand cup the swell of her stomach, thumb slowly brushing back and forth in a sweet gesture that is the total opposite of the way he kisses his wife. 

“Please,” Y/N pants as Fred’s mouth finally leaves her’s, starting to press kisses into her neck. “Need you to touch me, Freddie, only feels good when it’s you.”

“Well how can I deny my wife when she asks so nicely?” 

Fred kisses the juncture of her throat one last time before pulling away just enough so he can pick her up under her thighs. He positions her back on the bed just how he wants, her back flat against the mattress with her legs spread wide, a hand on each thigh to keep them open for him. 

“You’re fucking cunt,” he groans, his eyes drawn to her slick pussy as he bites his lip. He sinks down on the bed so he’s resting between her thighs, thumb and forefinger spreading her pussy apart to put her clit on display. “This pussy is going to be the death of me.”

Y/N gasps as Fred finally puts his mouth on her, hips nearly lifting off the bed as he sucks her clit between his lips. Her toes curl as his tongue flattens against her, thighs already quivering as Fred’s thumb presses against her entrance. “God, please, Fred.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs to fuck into her with his index finger, curling it to press against the front wall of her cunt, right against the spot that has her moaning his name. His cock twitches as Y/N’s hand tangles in his hair, curling his tongue around her clit as she tugs. 

“Such a good girl,” Fred praises as he presses another finger into her slick cunt, letting his thumb rub small circles into her clit. “I love this pretty pussy so much, wife. Gonna eat it every fucking day of the week.”

He takes her clit back between his lips as he fucks her with his fingers, needing her to cum before he can give her what they both desperately need. His cock aches as Y/N grinds down against his face, the feel of her taking control of her pleasure only turning him on more. Fred’s tongue flicks at her clit as his lips suck, and he can tell by the way her cunt grips his fingers that she’s close. 

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my hand so I can have you cumming all over my cock.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Y/N babbles as Fred licks her, fingers tugging him even closer into her as she grinds against him. Waves of pleasure are swirling in her core, electric shocks radiating all down her spine as Fred brings her closer and closer to the edge. He makes her feel like she’s on fire, completely erasing the few weak orgasms she had last night from her memory.

Fred wraps his arm around her thigh to keep Y/N in place as her orgasm takes over, his fingers and mouth still working her through the pleasure. Y/N’s toes curl as pleasure consumes her, thighs quivering as a cry of Fred’s name leaves her lips. Aftershocks of pleasure send shivers down her spine, and Y/N has to use her grip on Fred’s hair to separate his mouth from her cunt as she comes down. 

He doesn’t say anything as he crawls back up the bed, letting Y/N catch her breath before he leans down to kiss her softly. Her legs wrap around his hips, the need for Fred to be close overwhelming her need to get off for a brief moment. 

“Need you inside me,” Y/N murmurs against Fred’s mouth, her legs tightening around him. 

“Needy girl,” Fred teases, nipping at her jaw. But with one final kiss to her lips he pulls back, climbing off the bed so he can rid himself of the rest of his clothes. Who is he to deny the needs of his wife, the woman growing his child? 

Y/N makes a move to pull the jersey she’s wearing up over her head, and Fred grabs her wrist, shaking his head. 

“No, the jersey stays on.”

Fred’s pretty sure he hears her mumble something about him being a possessive idiot, but he doesn’t even care. Settling on the bed, back against the headboard with his cock leaking against his stomach, he beckons Y/N closer. “Come sit on my lap and make yourself cum on my cock, baby.”

Under normal circumstances she’d make some joke about how he’s making her do all the work, but her cunt is already aching again and if she doesn’t get Fred’s cock in the next three minutes she may die. Y/N crawls up the bed, shivering at the look in Fred’s eyes. It’s full of nothing but pure desire, and she can feel her heartbeat pulsing in her clit. At one point she feared that pregnancy may change the way Fred looks at her, and now as she straddles his waist Y/N can’t believe what an idiot she had been. 

One of Fred’s hands lands on her hip, the other on her bump and the contact sends a shiver down her spine. It takes a little bit of finesse with her bump in the way, but as soon as Y/N has Fred’s cock pressed against her cunt she’s sinking down. She’s slick enough from Fred’s mouth and her previous orgasm that she presses down until she’s fully seated in his lap, and her eyes flutter shut from the pleasure coursing through her veins. 

Fred is so thick and full inside her, and Y/N just sits there in his lap, eyes closed and her head tilted back as she appreciates the feel of him inside her. Y/N’s cunt pulses around him, and with how desperate she’s been to feel her husband like this, she already feels embarrassingly close to her climax already. 

“Fuck you are perfect,” Fred groans as her hips start to gently rock. He fixes her jersey so the hem rests on the top of her bump, wanting to see it in all of its glory. With one hand squeezing her thigh, Fred places the other on her stomach to help keep her balance. “So fucking full aren’t you, wife? So full of my cock and my baby, hm? Love being full of me, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she responds breathily, leaning back to brace herself against Fred’s thighs. The new angle lets him sink even deeper, and a sharp gasp falls from her mouth at the sensation. “Always wanna be full like this.”

“With my baby or my cock?” he teases. 

“Both,” Y/N hits back truthfully.

“Fuck,” Fred growls, unable to keep his hips from thrusting. The moan that comes from Y/N spurs him on, and he continues to match her movements with his own. “Whatever my wife wants my wife gets. Gonna keep you nice and full with my cock and my cum and my babies until we’ve got a whole fucking hockey team, baby. And no one will ever doubt who you, who this fucking pussy, belongs too.”

Her cunt clenches even tighter at his words, encouraging Fred to keep talking. 

“Look at you, my pretty little wife, fucking herself on my cock. Bet you thought about this the whole time I was gone, didn’t you, love?”

“Fuck, yes,” Y/N moans. She’s inching closer and closer to her orgasm with each of her movements, thighs quivering from a mixture of the pleasure swirling in her core and the effort it’s taking to fuck herself on Fred’s cock. 

“Fuck you look so good like this, baby,” Fred praises. “Not gonna be able to take you like this much longer, am I? I swear everytime I look at you, your belly is bigger. It’s not long until you’ll be too big to ride me like this, isn’t that right, love? But that’s okay, because you look so fucking good all full of my baby. Seeing you like this, knowing I did this, makes me feel fucking feral, baby. You’re doing such a great job, growing our baby. Gonna be such a good Mama.”

The combination of Fred’s cock stretching Y/N to her limits and the constant stream of praise coming from Fred pushes Y/N over the edge, and her back arches as she comes. Shocks of pleasure jolt out from her cunt, her clit aching and her toes curling as her orgasm washes over her in waves. 

The feel of Y/N’s walls pulsing around Fred’s cock as she moans his name pushes him to his own climax, his hips just barely pushing up into her as he empties himself into her eager cunt. 

“Taking it so well, baby. Fuck.”

He places a hand on her lower back for support as they both come down, the hand he has on her bump rubbing soothing circles into the skin. When having her in his lap starts to get uncomfortable, Fred carefully lifts her off, maneuvering so he can lay Y/N next to him on the bed without jostling her too much. 

Finally feeling satisfied, Y/N watches Fred move around their room through her barely open eyes, too tired to try and stay awake any longer. She lets him move her around too clean up, a soft whine coming from her lips when he pulls the jersey up and off over her head. But she’s immediately placated when Fred helps her into one of his old t-shirts, and she doesn’t even fight him as he pulls sleep shorts up her legs. 

He disappears into their bathroom then, and Y/N is practically asleep by the time he reemerges and gets into bed beside her. But instead of Fred pulling her into his arms like she expected, her eyes open in surprise as Fred pushes up the hem of her shirt just enough to expose her bump.

“What are you doing?” she murmurs, tone laced with humor. 

“What does it look like?” Fred responds as he pours lotion into his hands, rubbing them together to warm it up. He cradles her stomach carefully, slowly starting to massage her skin. “I’m taking care of both of my girls.”

[theblue6ook]

A Quiet Day

Summary: Bruce does not like celebrating his birthday. All of the pomp and circumstance was very “Bruce Wayne Bachelor,” but it wasn’t him. He wants quiet, he wants easy, he wants focus. So Y/N gives him that.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: I tried to add everyone who wanted to be on the tag list, but let me know if I missed you! [B (24) & Y/N (22)]

“Happy Birthday, Master Bruce,” he heard Alfred over the speaker system. 

Bruce couldn’t help but gaze at the digital clock built into his car console. Well, maybe a tank console? Lucious Fox said it was called the Tumbler, but the name just didn’t feel right to him. It was a birthday present he had told Bruce, and Bruce would call it what he liked... when he thought of a name. He was patrolling, as he does, except this time, he would take his new Waynetech Tank out for a spin. Nope, that name feels wrong too.

“Thank you, Alfred.” 

“Anything special planned this year, sir.”

“You know there’s not,” he chuckled.

“I wasn’t sure if you were getting bold with birthdays,” he could feel Alfred's grin, “considering what an extravagant time Ms. Y/N had.” 

“Just doing something nice for a friend, Alfred.”

Friend. That was nice to say. It’s easy to make friends when you’re a twenty-three - well, now a twenty-four-year-old billionaire. Bruce had never been low on friendships, but he had been low on real friendships. Of course, he had good friends. Rachel, Alfred, Lucius, and Jack Drake, to name a few, but that was all before The Bat. After he had left Gotham, he’d been through a lot. He’d been alone a lot. None of them would ever understand what he went through, who he was now. When he had trained, you’d be "assigned" friends. People you had to work with, save. He had met people who would and had died for him. How can you come back to trivial friendships after that?

And when you don’t water something, it dies. So, friendships slowly crumbled. Shriveled away. It wasn’t in a huge, dramatic way, but in a lost touch way. People didn’t want to deal with the Bruce Wayne he really was, a workaholic, stressed, easily annoyed, quick, and yet she didn’t care.

Y/N had come along, and he was used to the petty fights, people making up their minds, even leaving. They'd slowly given up on him. But she didn’t. They could fight all day long, and by the end, he’d be frustrated, grabbing his coat and announcing it was the end of the day for him. She’d look up at him and say, "See you tomorrow."

Once, he had questioned her about it, half joking and half not, “You’re not going to walk out and never come back?” 

She had looked at him strangely and scoffed, “Bruce, it’s fine if we argue and argue and move on. That’s friendship. That’s life.”

“That’s life?” he had asked sarcastically.

“Yeah. Now get over it and get out,” she had smirked at him.

So, they fight, and they move on, and they fight, and they move on, and Bruce doesn’t mind at all. At the end of the day, he knows he’ll see her the next, and then he does. It’s consistent, and god knows he could use some consistency. 

“A good friend gives back,” Alfred stated. “Maybe she’ll plan you a party.”

God, he hopes not.

-

Y/N had been conspiring. Bruce had made her birthday like nothing she had ever imagined, and even if her ex-finance had soiled the evening, she was grateful. So she wanted to do something special for him, except… he didn’t really seem like he wanted to do anything. Everyone in the office was talking about The Bruce Wayne’s birthday except for Bruce Wayne himself. 

Y/N knew she never typically saw his party side, aside from him hopping into the fountain at The Ocelot. The Bruce she knew was more reserved, quiet, and calculated. Plus, when it came to the topic of his birthday, it’s like he shut the complete conversation down. So, how do you plan something for the one person who wants nothing?

You don’t.

At least you don’t plan a party; you make the day itself special. Bruce hated meetings, so she moved them. He loved the bagel place she showed him down by Dorthie’s Flowers, so she scheduled a nice lunch. The last time she was in Dorthie’s, John had told her that violets were Bruce’s birth flower, so she put some in the office. Finally, for the last hour of their workday, she had a cake, nothing special, she had made it with Carrie last night, and a few birthday cards. 

She was nervous as hell. Giving something to the man who can afford everything is more nerve-wracking than she thought it would be. 

Bruce had arrived at his typical noon timeline. He stepped into the office with caution, just praying what had happened in the past years wouldn’t happen today. When he did occasionally come into the office years ago, past assistants and coworkers would plan some Bruce Wayne Birthday Happy Hour where everyone would get plastered, and he would sneak off annoyed. He knew Y/N knew him better than that. Or at least he hoped she did.

When he stepped into the office, there were no decorations, no music, and no surprises so far. He let out a breath. There was Y/N battling it out on the phone like she usually is. She waved at him and mouthed to him I can’t do phone calls anymore, rolling her eyes. He chuckled, stepping into his office.

Violets.

It wasn’t abnormal for Y/N to grab flowers for the office. She was dear friends with his florist, but violets made him think of his mother. Every birthday, his mother would go through the grueling tale of his birth just to tease him. 

“Thomas, you don’t get to laugh. You were no help!” she squealed. “Anyways, my dear Brucie. I was in the worst pain of my life bringing you into this world. All I wanted was my ice chips when our doctor started going on about birth flowers to distract me.”

“It annoyed her to no end-”

“Stop interrupting me, Thomas,” she had giggled, and Bruce had done the same. “Anyways, I was trying to bring you into this world, and he tells me, ‘ma’am it sounds like your son’s birth flower will be a violet. I never cared for violets.’ And I thought, what a terrible thing to say to a mother. So I kicked him out, and the nurse and I worked hard for you.” 

“She’s not joking, son.”

“But now, every birthday I just have to douse the house in violets for my sweet Brucie.”

 Bruce stepped closer, touching the edge of the petals with his fingertips. It had been a while since he’d been given any flowers... but violets, he was sure he had only gotten them from Mama.

There was a light cough behind him, and he turned to see a bashful Y/N. “So, no meetings today, but we have some paperwork to go through.”

“No meetings?” he questioned. That would be a first.

“Yeah, this donator work really should take priority,” she tried to act casually. “Oh, and I was going to run to Upper East Bagel later if you want to come.”

“We’re not getting delivery?”

“Well, it’s nice outside,” she started innocently. Bad lie, she thought. It’s February. It’s never nice. “I figured I’d walk, but if you want me to go by myself I can grab something for you.”

Bruce scoffed, “You’re not walking by yourself in Gotham.”

She grinned. Bait taken. 

For the few hours before lunch, they worked on paperwork. The donator paperwork did take up a chunk of time. There were so many details like which benefits he needed to attend, which non-profits were approved for the Wayne Charity donation program, etc. He was whipped, and even worse, he was hungry. Stepping toward the door, he leaned on the frame. Y/N was digging through one of her bags, and he cleared his throat.

“Bageles?”

She grinned, “I’m literally starving.”

Y/N was excited, not just for the bagel, but because as soon as they walked down to get their lunch, Alfred was going to come and help her set up Bruce’s office. Again, nothing crazy, a cake, cards, and maybe a balloon. It was nothing that should take long. She even had everything in a tote bag under her desk. 

The bagel line wasn’t long, and they didn’t have any issues other than a few people recognizing Bruce and wishing him a happy birthday. When they did, he’d look at her curiously. While Y/N had no reaction, Bruce was suspicious. So, she knows it’s my birthday, and she hasn’t said anything. Not that Bruce cared about things like that, but Y/N wasn’t the type to forget or be silent on the subject. She had only glanced at him innocently, batting her lashes, “Should we eat lunch in the park?

Bruce humored her, so they sat in Gotham Park and ate their lunch. While the bagel was great, it was fucking freezing outside. Y/N looked over at Bruce, pleasantly eating his bagel. It didn't look like the cold had bothered him at all. Despite not being cold, the whole ordeal had Bruce's mind moving. God, please no office parties when we get back. 

He was on edge stepping back into the office, waiting for some insane ordeal… but nothing. They took the elevator straight up to his office, and walked in by Y/N’s desk and… nothing. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she forgot and didn’t want to say anything. Y/N walked casually over to her desk and set her purse down while Bruce put the code into his office door and stepped inside. There was a balloon attached to his desk chair, a cake that was clearly not from a bakery, and cards. 

He chuckled, looking through them. One from Rachel and Harvey Dent, one from Alfred, one from Lucious, one from Jack Drake (who he hadn’t spoken to in so long), and one from Y/N. Except it wasn’t just from Y/N; her brothers had signed it with little notes and doodles, and Carrie had signed a nice message as well. 

It was so simple, so homely, and wonderful.

“Happy Birthday,” Y/N appeared behind him with a couple of paper dessert plates.

He looked at her but said nothing. In the best way, he didn’t know what to say, and suddenly she became nervous.

“I know it’s not much, and you probably have friends planning something crazy, but,” she paused, unsure of herself, “it’s just… you didn’t really seem like you wanted a party.” 

Bruce chuckled quietly. “I don’t,” he said honestly. “I’ve had friends plan a few insane things over the years, and I’m grateful, but I never really felt like celebrating my birthday without-” He stopped, a little embarrassed. “I sound like a child.”

“You don’t,” she stepped over to him, bumping his shoulder with her own.

“Yeah, I do,” he mumbled.

“After my mother left, I tried to make birthdays special for my brothers, but my dad didn’t really celebrate, and neither did I,” she wasn’t sure why she was whispering. Maybe it was the close proximity between them, or maybe it was because she had never admitted what she was about to say aloud. “John, Carrie, even Russ, they all tried to make things special for me, but… I didn’t want to celebrate. I’d always leave early or fake a headache.”

“I didn’t know your mom left,” he replied back.

“I don’t really talk about it. It’s not like it’s a secret, but I don’t know. It feels so awkward to mention.”

“It’s awkward to mention your dead parents too,” he looked over at her, grinning. 

“At least you know they loved you,” she cringed like she regretted what she said. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“I get it,” he said honestly.

“So, cake,” she quickly diverted the topic.

Bruce smiled. A real true smile, “Cake.”

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @mariadvorak @100520s @st0rmyt

[theworldofotps]

Hand Necklace (Drabble Prompt)

Pairing: Damian Priest x FemReader Word Count: 738 Prompt: "You would look good with my hands around your throat."

Here you go anon thank you so much for requesting I hope you enjoy it and don't mind the little spin I put on it. ______ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist​ @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @99hook @sjwrites22​ @sassymox @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex​ @biforrollynch​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred9​ @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie​ @shortyiceheart​ @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal​ @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37​ @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars​ @seeingstarks @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior​ @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @melblacc @alliwant456 @elevennbloom @xbreezymeadowsx @mcreignsera If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _____

“I fucking hate him.”

Slamming your suitcase shut, you shook your head in frustration as Rhea packed up her toiletries bag. You know coming to Damian’s best friend about him probably wasn’t the best idea; but Rhea was your friend too and hopefully she’d be able to give some advice.

“You know I never did understand why you two don’t get along I mean I’ve seen people hate each other but you two are on a completely different level. What’s up with that?”

“He drives me crazy! Always with his little snide remarks, how he thinks I should be extra wrap yourself in bubble wrap careful because I’m smaller than him I may get hurt than where would I be. And it’s always remarks about how I annoy him plus the millions of other things.”

Rhea listened to you animatedly talking an amused smile crossing her face, she knew something that you and Damian probably didn’t yet. The two of you had some major sexual tension and she had even spoken with a Finn about it who readily agreed. The way you and Damian were constantly bickering and trying to one up the other with words. She truly believed deep down it was because you guys had some hidden feelings.

“I just really want to hit him, preferably over the head with a chair.”

“Maybe you both need to get laid, work off your frustration through sex not fighting each other.”

Hearing the words out of the Aussie woman’s mouth had you stopping in your tracks mouth agape as you looked at her.

“No way could I sleep with Damian are you kidding me? He’s so…well you know and just absolutely could never happen.”

“Babes, I never said sleep with Damian I just said the two of you need to get laid but it’s very interesting you automatically assume I meant sleep with him.”

She smirked causing your face to heat up as you zipped your case shut and pointed a finger at her.

“Don’t even think about spinning any narratives Ripley I mean it I will kick your ass.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

Rhea winked, walking over when a knock sounded on the locker room door. Stepping back, you frowned when Damian stepped past her his eyes zeroing in on you.”

“Sorry didn’t realize you were busy with..her I can just come back.”

“No, it’s fine I just need to get something from Becks why don’t you wait here and then we can head out.”

Without giving either of you a chance to respond Rhea quickly left slamming the door behind her. Huffing, you went about collecting the rest of your things, doing your best to ignore Damian which wasn’t an easy feat.

“Are you going to just stand in the way or sit the fuck down?”

You asked, trying to slip past him to grab your phone charger Damian continued to block your way and when you looked up you were startled to see his eyes were darker than normal.

“Why don’t you try asking nicer?”

“Why don’t you kiss my ass?”

Pushing past him you picked up your charger and freeze when he spoke again.

“Bend over and I will.”

The silence in the room was almost deafening as you slowly turned to look at him, a brow raised.

“Excuse me?”

Slowly he walked over to you and watched as you backed up right into the wall a smirk crossing his face as he leaned closer to you.

“I said, bend over and I will.”

Gulping you clear your throat avoiding his gaze.

“No thanks I’d rather be hit by a car.”

“How long are we going to play this game princesa?”

“What game?”

“The one where we pretend to hate each other when deep down I think we both know we want nothing more than to fuck each other.”

His voice had dropped to a low whisper that had your thighs clenching as he leaned close. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder then pulled back tilting his head a few times.

“What?”

“Just thinking and you know what? You would look good with my hands around your throat."

Your eyes widen as his hand captured your neck and his lips crashed into yours a hot needy kiss that left you both panting for air and heated with desire.

“My hotel room, 208 soon as you get there.”

“Okay…I’ll be there.”

[lucienarcheron]

Moth to a Flame [ Eiris ]

@erisweekofficial day six - AU; Inspired by my mobster au for Eris x Iris. / Mob Boss Eris Vanserra gets an unexpected visit from his dream girl. / TW: abuse (off-screen but aftermath is mentioned).

Find all things Eris x Iris here. / Read on AO3! / divider by @tsunami-of-tears

“You have a visitor.” 

Eris glanced up from the paperwork in his hand to find his infuriating brother, Finn leaning against the doorway with a smile he didn’t trust. 

He narrowed his eyes. “And who might that be?”

“Someone who has been avoiding you at all costs.” his brother said with that stupid grin and Eris lifted a brow. 

“There are many people who fall into that category,” he said dryly. “Especially when they owe me money.”

Finn snorted. “No, dumbass. It’s a girl.” His brother wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Your dream girl.”

Ah. Iris.

Eris Vanserra had been on the market, searching for a wife who would benefit rather than hinder his operations. Every girl from a decent family that he would’ve been able to use was either a simpering weakling or so over the top he’d wanted to put her down like a lame horse. He needed someone level-headed. Someone who would understand what it meant to be a mobster’s wife. 

Someone who wasn’t afraid of him. 

Iris Bertillon had been at one of the social events of the families and they had somehow ended up in front of one another. Five minutes into their conversation, she’d poured her drink on him. In public. In front of everyone in the room.

All because he’d offered to fuck her. She’d been so tense! Eris had thought it the gentlemanly thing to do. And yet…she had poured her drink right on his head and had only given him a look of disgust, stating, “I’d rather die than let a piece of shit like you touch me.”

It turned him on every time he thought about it. If Eris believed in such a thing, he’d call it love at first fight.

Before her father could lay a hand on her, apologizing profusely for his daughter’s behavior, Eris had already given the order for his brother Emil to pass along: No one was allowed to touch her. He had claimed her, whether she liked it or not. 

Despite that, Iris refused him at every turn. She returned his gifts. She’d either argue everything he said or sit in complete silence. Until of course, she couldn’t hold back on insulting him. To fight with him. 

People wondered how she’d gotten away with being like this considering Eris Vanserra had a reputation. But all the commotion she caused him did nothing but spur him on. She was indeed his dream girl. She was his. 

It didn’t matter that she denied it. Everyone knew who she belonged to and Eris couldn’t wait until she finally caved and he claimed her as thoroughly as he wanted to.

At the present moment, Eris didn’t allow himself an outward reaction to Finn’s declaration. His annoying brother would only be obnoxious about it. No, he would not grant his brother the satisfaction of knowing how his pulse had begun to race at the idea of Iris coming to him after going out of her way to avoid him for so long. He merely blinked at his brother. “Is she here with her father?” 

Finn’s smirk widened, crossing his arms. “No. Given how she’s dressed, it seems she has snuck out to see you.”

Eris’s brows furrowed and he turned to his computer, clicking until the security cameras popped up. Indeed, there she was, making her way into the estate. On foot.

“Why isn’t she in a car?” 

“That’s why I don’t think she’s supposed to be here. Otherwise, why come on foot?” Finn replied. “Considering how badly Bertillon wants her to suck your dick to get our influence, he would definitely make a show of dragging her to your doorstep.”

“Bertillon can die. I have no interest in him.” Eris said, watching Iris’s every move on the cameras. “He will give me whatever I want whether I marry his daughter or not.” 

“But you will marry his daughter, right?” Finn said with that annoying smirk. “Even if she doesn’t want you?”

Eris glanced back at his brother. “Grant her access to my front door and be sure no one stops her. No one is to interrupt us.”

“You got it,” he said with a salute. “But listen, I know you’ve been pent up for a while so make sure you don’t embarrass yourself by ending the session too quickly. We can’t have your reputation in shambles because of a limp dick.”

Eris shot his brother a look of disdain. “You have a second to fuck off or I’m shooting you in the leg.” 

But Finn only laughed, waving Eris off and then shutting the office door behind him. Eris’s focus went back to the security camera, again following Iris’s every move. 

Immediately, Eris knew something was off. For someone as prideful as she was, Iris was walking with her head down. He zoomed in on his screen, narrowing his eyes. Something about her walk was different. 

She had to be here for a reason. She had come to him.

He stood, his eyes never leaving the screen as Iris kept walking towards his front doors. Eris slowly straightened his dress shirt and adjusted his suspenders, grabbing the gun on his desk and sticking it back in its holster. He wasn’t sure why he felt a buzz under his skin. 

Was it excitement? Was he nervous? That would be preposterous. Eris Vanserra hadn’t been nervous in years. 

He made his way out of his office, his three pups lifting their heads as he passed the living room and made his way towards the front door.  Eris had a feeling this interaction was going to change something for him. She wouldn’t show up like this for nothing.

She knocked on the door right as he reached it and Eris paused for a breath, running a hand through his hair, smoothing it back. 

His dream girl was at his door. She had come to him.

The thought made the corner of his mouth curl up into his signature smirk as he opened his door and found her standing before him.

But his smirk slowly fell from his face the longer Eris glanced at her. 

Iris stood before him in a long coat that seemed to purposefully hide whatever she was wearing beneath it. Though the chilly air of October was upon them, something about the way she stood wasn’t sitting right with him.

It was as though her legs were shaking.

He leaned against his doorframe, his eyes taking her in. “Well, well, well,” he said calmly. “I see my little gazelle has found her way to me.” 

She said nothing but Eris watched her hands curl into fists at her side and he let a moment of silence pass between them, his pulse thumping. 

Something was not right. 

Where was the girl who nearly wanted to rip his head off every time she saw him? Who had thrown a dinner knife at him once? 

He pursed his lips and straightened, opening his door wider. “I thought you said you’d never let yourself stoop low enough to visit me?” he teased. “That you wouldn’t be caught dead coming to my hell of a prison?”

Silence filled the space between them and Eris’s brows furrowed again when her fists began to shake and every fiber in his body went on full alert. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. 

It took another minute before he finally heard her take a breath and slowly, as if it pained her to do so, Iris lifted her head and Eris’s head went silent.

Her face…her beautiful face was peppered in bruises. A cut on her lip, another near her eyebrow. Handprints bruising her throat. 

But her eyes remained locked on his, her bottom lip trembling violently as she blinked rapidly, and Eris knew she was trying not to cry in front of him. 

Her face was flushed and he sensed both anger and embarrassment to be seen like this by him but Iris swallowed hard, working her jaw until she finally whispered, “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

Heat surged through his body as his gaze hardened and his grip on the doorframe tightened hard enough that the door creaked. “Who?” he spat.

He watched as she swallowed again, her gaze dropping to her feet and then back at him. “My father.”

Eris’s lip curled in anger. “Why.” 

The word came out as a demand but Iris didn’t flinch. She only blinked rapidly, her eyes locked on his, as if he was the one anchoring her to this moment, and licked her lips before answering. “He wanted to offer me to someone else and I said no.”

“Did he, now.” 

Iris managed a nod and Eris watched her fight back a wince as she straightened. “You still want to marry me, yes?”

“Without a shred of doubt, little gazelle.” 

Iris nodded again, quickly wiping at a stray tear that had managed to slip and Eris knew he would relish in killing her father. He would tear that piece of shit limb by limb and hang him for all to see.

Slipping a hand into her coat pocket, Iris pulled out a flash drive and handed it to him. “This is everything you need to make the transfer of all his assets easier.” She said, lifting her chin. “I’ll consider his death my wedding gift.” 

Eris’s answering smirk was nothing short of deadly as he took a step back and gestured with his hand to come in. “Then welcome home, Iris.” 

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x she/her reader

summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met

word count : 3.5k

notes : this is my first fanfic ever, the set up is a little slow but bear with me, the series will be a compilation of all my favorite tropes and in general everything i love to read in l&c fanfics, it's heavily inspired by everything i've read so far so thanks to all the amazing writers out there &lt;3, a lot more happens in the second part that i will upload right next to this one

She wasn’t entirely surprised when she heard that George Karim had gotten fired from Fittes. He did a great job on the few occasions she got to work with him, but he always seemed to take his research too far. She remembered warning him several times.

“Supervisors aren’t as open-minded as I am, you’re gonna get in trouble if you keep bringing up your theories about the Problem to every person you interact with!”

“But don’t you find it weird how research has come so far and yet the Problem keeps growing? The official story tells us that an unidentified event caused it but what if it’s still going on? Wouldn’t you want to know what that was so we could finally put an end to this?”

When he put it that way, y/n couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Sure, I guess but it doesn’t justify going up to the fourth floor when it’s clearly closed to agents still in training!”

“Keep your head in the sand if you want but I’ll get to the bottom of this, I know I’m getting closer already.” George said with a proud smile on his face.

She’d laughed. He was stubborn but she found it endearing.

He had bragged about his latest discoveries after a case the both of them had been working on. It wasn’t the first time. They got along well and took the habit of grabbing an early morning snack on their way back from work. He would mostly tell her about his most recent theory, either about the Problem or his latest obsession, which could take a few hours. But y/n didn’t mind, she thought he was good company and it helped her relax after a case. Though aside from those few moments they didn’t spend that much time together. Especially since y/n became part of Quill Kipps’ crew.

A month ago, she had gotten the good news coming back to work after a weekend visiting her parents in her hometown south of London. She was ecstatic, her roommate El too. Especially El actually. Because they had such a huge crush on him. y/n didn’t quite understand it, but she did admire his career. He had a remarkable reputation among other Fittes agents and being part of his team would certainly boost her career as well. She had her heart set on moving up to management and someday become a prominent figure of the Fittes organization. But to reach this goal she’d need to be as remarkable as Kipps, better even. She wanted him to notice her, to see how great her Touch was but most importantly how organized and responsible she could be under pressure. She needed him to think she could be a great leader and sought his attention on every occasion. Because of that she and George drifted apart, going from work friends to acquaintances that simply exchanged passing hellos at the archives or the Fittes headquarters. Before she even thought of reaching out to him, he was gone.

“Did you hear?” El had asked her as she walked into their shared room.

“Heard what?”

“That annoying guy finally got fired!”

“What George? He wasn’t annoying he was sweet!”

“You have weird tastes in friends.”

“Yes, I do.” She told them with a wink.

“But do you know what happened? Most supervisors were pissed and wanted to involve the cops!”

“What? Why?”

“Because he tried to break into an office! They caught him trying to pick the lock! How crazy is that?” El seemed to relish the drama of the situation as their face lit up with a smile that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances.

“That is crazy but as much as I love to gossip, I really need to get some sleep.”

y/n got ready for bed and set her alarm for the following day. She had to do some research at the archives with her teammate. They would join Kipps later at the client’s house. It shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed to be a Type One but she really needed to impress him. She had to be the perfect agent: quick, focused and perfectly prepared. Even though she was always very professional she still needed some rest.

y/n was a heavy sleeper and had very vivid dreams. Ever since she was a child, she had some of her nights disturbed by complex dreams that felt so real she would wake up exhausted the next morning as if she hadn’t slept at all. It hadn’t happened in quite some time, but that night y/n wouldn’t get much rest. She found herself in the middle of the woods, barefoot, standing in a clearing. The ground was covered with an emerald green moss that felt soft beneath her feet. She looked around but couldn’t see much beside the shadows of the surrounding trees. A thick fog made it hard to see where she was. Disoriented and lost, she started walking towards the nearest tree but, a few steps in, her right foot sank in ice cold water. She realized she was in the middle of a pond, stuck and unable to reach the shore. A frog jumped into the water behind her and made her turn around. A girl was standing in front of her. Her auburn hair was slightly curled, and her bangs delicately framed her brown eyes. She was slightly smaller than she was, about the same age, her face showed no emotion at all.

“Find me.” She said in a neutral tone.

y/n furrowed her brow, not understanding what she meant. As she opened her mouth to ask her to explain the girl repeated

“Find me.”

Without moving she somehow floated above the pond and retreated into the woods. She mouthed the same words one last time before the fog engulfed her. y/n woke up with a jolt, disoriented and terribly thirsty. What was that about? she thought. She didn’t have time to ponder since she hadn’t heard her alarm and was already late to meet up with her colleague.

“I’m so sorry I’m late Bobby I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long…”

“It’s fine but hurry up. Kipps insisted on gathering as much information as possible.”

“Really? But everything indicates a Type One right?”

“The problem isn’t with the dead but with the living. Didn’t you pay attention to who our client is?”

“Mrs Overton? What about her?” Bobby had an exasperated look on his face and sighed heavily. So much for being the perfect agent today.

“Her husband owns Overton Watches and basically runs a luxury empire and she is on the board of the Sunrise Corporation. She and her husband are close friends with Penelope Fittes and we cannot screw up this case otherwise our team will probably end up at the bottom of her list next time she needs trustworthy agents.”

Oh, I’m not rested enough to deal with that.

“Okay then, let’s get to work.”

They spent the whole day at the agency’s archives. The Fittes database did help a lot to find more information about the Overtons’ house but overall, it was a pretty boring case. The house was old, dated back the 1800s, it belonged to Mrs Overton’s ancestors, one of them died because, well, they had to at some point, and felt like coming back. This great grandmother didn’t live any kind of extraordinary life and decided to haunt the place in the same unremarkable way. Y/n had trouble staying focused. The case was not fascinating, far from it. Her mind drifted and came back to her dream. In hindsight it wasn’t that disturbing. It was just her brain making stuff up. But she couldn’t shake the feeling she had felt when the girl had spoken to her. There was something magnetic about her voice and it had an intensity that didn’t match the lack of expression on her face. It bothered her. Why couldn’t she stop seeing her face?

Bobby got up to put back some newspapers and the sudden movement next to her brought her back to reality. Right, the Overton case. Everything indicated a Lurker, so y/n wasn’t too worried about tonight. She could still make up for today’s start. Plus, her talent would probably be the most useful. This unseemly case might serve her after all.

As she walked back to their table after putting a book back on its shelf, she accidently bumped into someone.

“Oh I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay don’t worry.”

“George? Hi! What are you doing here?”

“I came by to pick up the rest of my stuff…”

“Oh right… I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Don’t be I kinda deserved it anyway. Though I still think I was right.”

“About what?”

“Mrs. Dufour stealing sources. It’s pretty obvious she can’t afford to live the way she does on a supervisor’s salary, and she always looks like she’s plotting something. She reminds me of relic men. I never liked her.”

“Well to be fair you don’t like a lot of people… it looks like I missed your last hyperfixation… but it seems like a stretch and accusing her of something like that… Was it really worth getting into that much trouble?”

“I’m not chipper about it, but I’ll be fine. I already found something else, a friend I can still work with, maybe you know him. We live in-”

But y/n wasn’t listening. Bobby was calling her, telling her that they had to get moving to get to their client’s house before sundown.

“I really have to go George I’m sorry. But I’ll miss our walks filled with your crazy theories.” She said with a smile.

“If you want to come by for tea, we’d be happy to have you. 35 Portland Row, don’t forget!”

“Sure, I won’t! Good luck!”

“Thanks, you too.”

She hurried to catch up with her colleague. She really was going to miss him even though they weren’t that close she had grown used to seeing him around. But she couldn’t believe his theory about Mrs. Dufour. It sounded like he wanted to see evil everywhere and was looking for something to distract himself with. A made-up scenario that justified why he disliked her at the same time. Nothing more.

----

“Good evening, Madam, we are a leading team from Fittes. We were assigned to make your house safe again by Miss Fittes herself.”

Kipps always had a very humble way of introducing them to their clients. As proud as y/n was of being on his team, she didn’t feel entirely at ease with his elevated figures of speech.

“Yes, I was expecting you. Penelope told me she put one of her best teams on my case. I was very flattered.”

“Well, we do not want to appear overly confident, but we will be most efficient to take care of your problem. May we come in?” she asked.

“Of course, please. I suppose your supervisor will be here too?”

“Yes, Mrs. Dufour will be here shortly.” Kipps answered.

y/n abruptly turned around to look at him.

“Mrs. Dufour? What happened to Mr. Fowler?”

“He got called by DEPRAC to deal with some details on the last case we did. You know, the one where it only took you two minutes to find the source after Bobby and I spent a half hour looking for it. It was really impressive I was glad you were here.” He told her with a wink.

She felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to being praised and certainly not by a prominent agent like Quill Kipps, even after a month of working together she still felt flustered. Maybe that last case made up for the horrible impression she gave him on her first week. And she was going to keep proving him how great she was.

The praise was so unexpected it made her forget who their supervisor was for a moment. What were the odds that on the same day George told her about his suspicions she had to work with this potential traitor? She could not let George’s wild theories cloud her judgement. She was here to do a job, a relatively easy one given their research, and she was going to make a wonderful impression on both Kipps and this high-profile client. She took the lead and went inside.

As they stepped into the house, they were greeted by a white marble entrance furnished with glass cases displaying various clocks and watches, certainly a history of the famous Overton watches and mechanisms. The sun was already setting, it hit a crystal chandelier which reflected golden light over the walls. The pieces shone behind their glass. Their client guided them through the hall into the kitchen were teacups and biscuits had been served. Mrs. Overton took a seat and the three agents followed. She seemed at ease with the situation even though the young adults she had in front of her were here to rid her of a ghost. She sat at the head of the table, perfectly in control as if this meeting was a business reunion like any other. She was in her late fifties; her hair was silver and styled in an elaborate hairstyle. She looked both serious and relaxed at the same time. She was aware of the risks but wasn’t worried about the situation, like she had total faith in the team in front of her.

“While we wait for Mrs. Dufour maybe you could tell us more about what has been troubling you?” asked Kipps.

“I believe the haunting began about three weeks ago. My husband started feeling uneasy when he got home, and I felt the same fear shortly after. We never saw or heard anything we just feel watched.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Madam.” y/n tried to comfort her.

“The research we did on your house indicates that it’s been built in the 1800’s and never left your family is that correct?” Bobby interrupted.

“Yes, I inherited it about 2 years ago, but we only moved in this year.”

“We believe the haunting might be caused by one of your ancestors, a certain Emily Abbott, could you tell us anything about her?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of her before…”

“So, you wouldn’t have any idea what her source might be?”

“You might have a late night ahead of you. When we moved in, we kept most of the furniture that were already in the house. For all I know any of these pieces could be the source.”

That wasn’t good news. Hopefully with her Touch y/n could save them some time. They could start at the bottom of the house and work their way up, going from room to room as she touches different objects hoping for some result. As she organized the night in her head the front door opened.

Mrs. Dufour immediately filled the room with her presence. Mostly because she spoke at length and didn’t let the team finish asking their questions. She thanked Mrs. Overton for waiting for her, ushered her out of the house and gave them her directions for the night. Not even Kipps could object. She wanted him to stay nearby while Bobby and y/n were to explore the house to see if they could pick up anything. She felt for Kipps, this seemed like a monumental waste of time for him. But they couldn’t do much about it, agents were supposed to follow their supervisor’s instructions, they were in charge after all.

They searched the house until midnight, making rounds, going up and down the floors, looking for potential sources or trying to pick up any kind of psychical activity but came back downstairs empty handed. How was she supposed to impress anyone with a case like this? y/n and Bobby went back to the kitchen to report the lack of activity to Mrs. Dufour. 

“We’ve searched the entire house three times but unfortunately none of the objects we picked up gave any sign of psychical activity, the visitor hasn’t shown up yet and Mrs. Overton couldn’t give us more information. I’m not really sure what more we could do for now.” Bobby looked defeated. Or bored. Probably the latter, it was an exceptionally boring case. y/n was growing tired at the lack of action. It made her mad that someone could hire one of the best teams in London to take care of such a benign problem just because they had money and connections while hundreds of homes were threatened by harmful Type Twos and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Do I really have to tell you two how to do your jobs? Keep looking and take this seriously. I hope you realize who our client is, I can’t allow any mistake tonight.” Her authoritarian tone made y/n see why George disliked her. Clearly, they must have gotten into a few arguments on several occasions. But she couldn’t understand what would make him think that she could steal sources. She seemed to take her job very seriously. Sure, she was a pain but that didn’t mean she was a criminal.

“I’ve got something here! Bobby, y/n join me in the hall.” Kipps called.

They drew their rapiers and walked slowly into the hall. Kipps was looking at a corner where shadow had gathered. There was a faint, almost indistinguishable human shape lurking there. But it didn’t move, and it didn’t seem to want anything more than just stand there.

“I’m going to keep an eye on it while you two look for the source.” Kipps told them without averting his eyes from the dark figure.

“But what more can we do we looked everywhere already.” Bobby said with a sigh.

“Well,” Kipps turned to her. “y/n, got any ideas?”

She didn’t answer. She hadn’t heard them as she was lost in thought. Mrs. Overton hadn’t mentioned anything about the display cases here. But she should have. There were marks on the walls behind them, and again on the marble floor. It was a clear sign that bigger and heavier furniture had been removed to make room for new ones. That change alone could have triggered the ghost. And since they were behind glass, they hadn’t tested any of the objects on display. Though they were all Overton Watches so, clearly, they didn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. Another dead end. She lingered in front of the central display, slowly losing hope. If such a ridiculously small case was too much for her, what was she even doing here? Sure, the two guys accompanying her weren’t inspired either, but she was disappointed in herself. She had dealt with dangerous situations without flinching, but a Lurker case was getting the best of her. That was embarrassing. She rested her hands on the case and looked down at the watches. There were four watches spread across a silk white sheet surrounding a bigger, more ancient clock. They didn’t seem that impressive. Why were people making such a big deal out of them? The clock on the other hand was more ornate and had required skilled craftmanship. The mechanism was apparent and intricate. It was still working which was most impressive. A golden crown rested delicately upon a mother-of-pearl dial, the needles moving steadily around. Right beneath the number 6 was engraved something almost unreadable. She squinted to see better. The initials EA were written in golden letters.

“I’ve found it! The source! It’s this clock right here!”

“Nice work y/n. Keep an eye on the ghost I’ll take care of the source.”

They switched position and she kept her eyes on the shadow as Kipps tried to get the clock out of the display.

“I can’t get to it, it’s locked. I’m gonna have to break the glass.”

“No! Don’t do that Mrs. Overton would be livid. Bobby go get Mrs. Dufour and Kipps don’t touch anything please.” She said with her back to them, her eyes still staring at the corner.

“Did you find the source? What is it?” Mrs. Dufour asked, suddenly in a hurry.

“We have reasons to believe this clock is the object causing Mrs. Overton trouble.”

“That’s really nice work Mr. Kipps congratulations.”

“I much appreciate your praise, but it has to go to y/n. She found the source. As we don’t have a key, I offered to break the glass, but y/n thinks it would upset our client.”

“Well thank you Miss y/n for using some common sense. We cannot break anything in this house.”

“We could drape a silver net over the case and come back in the morning to pick up the source.” She offered.

“I think it would be best. Thank you again for your prompt judgement here.”

“It was my pleasure.” She blushed. It was nice to have her efforts acknowledged, no matter how small. This supervisor might have been a stickler, but she recognized good work, it was enough to satisfy her. This case turned out pretty well after all.

[alexxness]

Against Us - A Short Fiddauthor FanFic

Another one shot I've just posted on AO3!!

I don't think I've ever seen anyone writing or drawing comics about Fiddleford or Ford suffering from homophobia back in college, which I'm glad btw!! But they were living in the 70s back then, so I wrote this quick one-shot about them comforting each other because of homophobic people in college. (They are dating in this one-shot btw)

Btw, see if you can guess which song Fiddleford was actually listening to in the beginning ;]

Fiddleford was, once again, doing his homework, this time listening to “Pack Your Bags, Mack" on a cassette player he borrowed from Stanford.

He was alone in their room… He wondered where his roommate had gone since Sixer is usually the one arriving first. As soon as that thought came, Ford entered the room in a rush.

“Oh, hey Stanford. I thought you’d never arrive, is everything ok?” he says, while pausing the song.

“Oh yes, I’m fine, it’s nothing important.” the six-fingered responded, tossing his coat to his bed.

“You sure? You came in in a rush, were you… running from someone?--” Fiddleford concerningly wondered.

“I said I’m fine...”

“Okay… If you say so.” the Western boy responded, focusing on his homework once again.

Ford sighs. Fiddleford knew something was up, but Sixer didn’t want to bother his roommate with the same conversation over and over… Besides, just because Fiddleford is his boyfriend now, doesn’t mean he has to protect him all the time, Ford can defend himself.

“You know that guy in our, huh–” Stanford pauses.

Fiddleford turned his chair to listen to his partner.

“What guy?” he asked.

“That annoying guy from our chemistry class?” Sixer takes off his glasses to rub his eyes.

“Wait, wait… Are you talking about Roderick? Roderick Thompson?” Fiddleford assumes.

“Yeah, that guy,” Ford responds while wearing his glasses again.

“Oh gee, what happened?” the Western boy concerningly asked, as if it wasn’t the first time he had heard about this guy.

“The usual shit. I was just coming in a worry because I just COULDN’T. TAKE IT. Ugh, I wish I could just– Hit him, but I know I’m no better if I do so.” Ford looks at his fingers.

“Good that you have that common sense. But ‘ya know, some limits should be drawn sometimes, and I think Roderick has passed that limit for a long time.”

“What are you suggesting me to do?”

“I ain’t suggesting ‘ya anything. I mean, I go there and–”

“No, Fiddleford. I don’t need you to go there and defend me, I can do it myself.”

“I know, but– I don’t want ‘ya to go through this alone, besides… Roderick does kinda pick on me too.”

“What?”

“Yeah… I apologize I never told you.”

“Oh no, it’s ok. I completely understand you.” Ford paused “But… Hey, I know I ain’t no example, but you know you can tell me anything, right?” he seats next to Fiddleford.

“Yes, I know. And I appreciate that you are here for me, I’ll always be here for ‘ya too.” Fiddleford holds his partner’s hands.

“Of course.”

They silently looked at each other’s eyes, almost like they had a heart-shaped reflection inside.

“So like… What type of things did Roderick do to you…? If you don’t mind me asking.” Ford wondered.

“Well, the usual shit. Calls me a nerd, a weirdo, a freak…” Fiddleford paused, looking away “He called me ‘queer’ as an insult.”

“Oh.” the six-fingered has no words.

“Yeah. I just never told anyone about this, because I’m afraid my grandma may find out, and lemme tell ‘ya, she’s not kind to people like us, Stanford!” Fiddleford exclaimed with tears in his eyes.

“Oh, Fiddleford. I’m– I’m so sorry.” Ford softly hugged his partner.

“I love my grandma, but if she found out I’m with you, she’s– She’d go crazy.”

“I know. My parents ain’t no different, especially because of my religion.” Stanford responds while laying his head on Fiddleford’s shoulder.

Fiddleford sighs and lays on Ford’s head. “Why do our families have to be against us?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure in the future things will be greater for us though, but for now, I think we just have to live with this…”

[worldsover]

Kaninchen und Ente

In your mind, there were three different ways your dinner date with your friend Yena would end. The first would be noticing that familiar sight of a telephoto lens hidden in a bush, and the two of you would have to come up with some fantastical excuse. Second, she would tell you she had a great time, drop you off at your place, and never speak to you again. Lastly (and this was a sliver chance, but you had to find comfort in that sliver), the date would spark the same feelings in Yena that you had for her, and maybe she’d be willing to go on a second date, or maybe she’d even accept a kiss at the end.

None of the above.

The liveliest smile on her face as usual, a boundless energy that you did your best to match, yet you couldn’t read if she was being her usual self or if she was genuinely having a good time.

When you were chatting in her car, it seemed the disappointment of the second outcome was becoming more and more likely. Though in that case, she didn’t have to come into the apartment. You weren’t expecting anyone to come over soon, especially not Yena, so you feel bad you didn’t clean it up much. You were meaning to get an armchair that actually matched your blue couch, but instead you have this brown plaid abomination. There’s blankets and pillows scattered about, clutter like keys and mail on your dining table.

Despite all that, she looks content to relax and sip away on beer next to you. Funny enough, there’s Yena on TV, though just for a brief moment in a commercial. She smiles seeing herself. Guess that feeling never goes away.

“Is my bed that nice?” you ask. You can’t make eye contact with her. The longer this goes on, whatever she’s up to, the more awkward you feel. You try your best to pretend like the date’s never happened. “Do you like making me sleep on my own couch? This is why I told you not to drink.”

“You really want me out of here that much? You hate me that much?” She’s saying it in this annoying cutesy way that makes it impossible for you to hate her.

You sigh. Set your can of beer on your coffee table next to another couple cans of soda.

“Look, I should be straightforward with you.” Yena sets her can down too, scoots closer to you on your sofa, and puts her hand on your shoulder. “I wasn’t really getting the couple vibes. But I know you were being super sincere and I wanna make it up to you.”

“Oh, so you’ll sleep on the couch this time then?” You scan her eyes to judge her reaction to the joke; again, you can’t figure them out. “It’s fine, I prepared myself for worse.”

She giggles. “See, I know you like me now.”

You blush. “Come on, you don’t have to rub it in.”

Yena’s hand moves about an inch: fingertips on the back of your neck, and those sensitive pads must understand the bumps they're giving it right now. Her eyes are half-open, sultry, dim yet clear in intent.

"Yena, what are you..." You didn’t have to ask.

She leans in. “Did I say I don’t like you?”

Your lips touch, and you close your eyes.

"What?" you ask? Why did you ask? You didn’t have to ask, you're staring, and now she's staring back.

Yena flashes a hungry smile before she pulls you in again, and this time, your lips are attached for much longer. And she's not just sitting next to you anymore, awkwardly twisted, but she shifts and scoots until eventually, she is sitting on your knee. Her hand goes from being lightly placed on your neck to tightly grasping your back, her arms in a complete hold. You run your hands through her hair, and then your digits find a bit of purchase, giving a light tug. The two of you engage in this back and forth of who can embrace who more, who can get their body closer. The warmth. It’s subtle but it isn't just the air. It's on your leg. It's unignorable. Between her legs, on your thigh, she's so warm as she adds a second back and forth of her hips.

When you pull her hair again, you swear she just moaned into your kiss. Her tongue follows the destination of the small sound she made: straight into your mouth, and now count a third back and forth of tongues. She stops grinding against your leg and is instead earnestly leaning into you know; you can feel her sizeable breasts pressed on your chest.

As the two of you let go for air, you both tug at each other shirts. In a blur, you have nothing but your boxers while Yena is only wearing her red bra and panties.

“Oh, they’re matching?”

Yena glances away. “That was an accident.”

You smile smugly, and Yena’s blush only grows when your hands start move from her back to her shoulders to her ample tits. You give them much focus, massaging and kneading over her bra. Take plenty, plenty of time to watch the mesmerizing physics; you could stare at the valley between her breasts for hours.

“You like them?” Yena pouts as she squeezes her arms in front of her to accentuate the cleavage.

“Yeah,” you answer breathily, and your fingers follow her bra straps.

“I can take it off if you want.”

You nod and Yena reaches behind to unclasp, then slowly lowers her arms, allowing her bra to fall down her arms and onto the floor—the moment it hits the ground, you take her nipple into your mouth and suck hard on it. She's breathing hard, but it catches when your hand comes around and cups her other breast. Her head drops and her fingers find their place in your hair, somehow pulling you deeper into your makeout session with her chest.

"Fuck, I should've rejected you sooner."

Your tongue is circling around her nipple when you laugh. You look up and raise your brow. "Why?" You bring her nipple to your lips again and this time, use your teeth for a little extra friction and suction.

Yena lets out a little yelp. "Because you'd be fucking me way sooner, that's why!"

"I'm not sure how I feel about that." But you do. You feel a surge of blood pulsing in your cock, and Yena does too. Even though you both have your underwear on, you swear you could burst the fabric right there and then. Especially when she grinds down into your rapidly growing erection harder. Your hands leave her breasts—they've been made glossy by your licking, and you relish in the sight for a moment—then you focus on her pert ass, squeezing both cheeks.

“Oh, ah, please,” Yena says between gasps for air.

You glance up and she's biting her lip, struggling not to moan loud enough for your neighbors to hear. "Please what, you ask?"

"Kiss me, fuck me, anything, please!"

You laugh, and kiss her neck; then you lean back a bit so you can see her face. You want to see it when your hands move from her asscheeks to underneath her panties. "I'll have to think about it. You might be a little wetter than normal," you say.

"Fuck, I'm so wet. I didn't expect this much, oh my god." Her hand darts under your waistband. The mere touch of her digits on your cock's tip sends your brain into a frenzy.

You reach down and grab Yena's wrist. Give each of her tits a kiss. "I can't stop thinking about these. You ever given a titfuck before?"

She bites her lip. "No, but I can imagine what you mean by that."

“Good. Down.” You don’t mean to come out so short, but she shudders when you say it like that.

“O-okay.” Yena gets on her knees. There, she finally fishes out your cock, pulls your boxers off your legs. She looks as dazed as you think you are, her fingers delicately on your shaft.

"Spit on it."

Yena nods hastily, opening her mouth and procuring as much saliva as she can before she sticks out her tongue and lets a generous strand fall. Some of the spit gets on her cleavage, some on your cockhead. With one hand, she guides your erection between her breasts while the other hands helps press them together. She looks down, a bit cross-eyed focusing on your dick, and spits forcefully a few more times, which leaves both her chest and your shaft covered.

"Perfect."

She bends her head down far and slides your cock up so that she can lick the tip of your cock with her tongue. "Muah, muah." The sensation of her plump lips kissing so sweetly, combined with the pressure of her tits around your shaft, makes you groan, and you instinctively push forward. You hit the back of her mouth, and she gags, releasing your dick with a bunch of drool on it. Her brows furrow.

You know Yena is going to get fixated on trying to get you deeper, so you reestablish what you wanted by pinching her nipples.

"Mmh! Okay, okay." She brings each of her hands on each of her breasts to squeeze your cock between them again before she starts sliding you up and down. You let your head fall back against your couch, and then you realize you must keep looking at her. While every touch alone can bring one step closer to your climax, you want to enjoy the visual experience even more. After all, look at Yena. She's gorgeous, adorable, and yet so incredibly naughty. Even though she's never done this before, she's putting her all into blowing your mind with this boobjob. Sometimes she's looking up at you with the most intense glare—no camera nor stage could pull that sultry expression out of her—while sometimes, she's staring down at your cock, fascinated by the size and shape of it, by the way it shines with all the spit, or by how your tip pops out from between her ample breasts. Every once in a while, she stops her movement to stroke your cock between her tits or to let her tongue droop out, tasting the precum dribbling from your slit. Then, whenever she feels like it, she resumes, and you just sit there, amazed by how great this feels, amazed that you're actually doing this with your friend or with an idol like her.

While Yena keeps up the same pace of bouncing up and down, keeping her boobs pressed together on your dick, your body tenses up; there, that familiar rush of excitement. After an expletive or two, you let her know.

She slows down. "Not yet."

You're gasping. "What do you mean?"

"Don't cum on me."

You swallow your own spit.

"In me."

There's a million thoughts a mile. All of them involve being inside of her, feeling her tightness wrap around your cock, filling her up, making her yours, consuming her, making her squirt and scream and lose herself in orgasmic bliss... and then you remember: you shouldn't. It's too risky, unsafe. What if you don't pull out time? What if she gets pregnant? How are you going to deal with all the repercussions—

The rabbit-duck illusion. An ambiguous image in which a rabbit or a duck can be seen. Understand this.

Yena gets up, then she's back on her knees but now on the couch, facing away from you. Her cute ass is in perfect view, and so are her damp panties, especially when she bends down, putting her head into the cushions. She looks back and pouts. "Please? I'll even..." She tugs her underwear, and it sticks to her pussy for a moment with some thin strands of juice before she pulls it down her thighs. Her cunt is glistening, pink and swollen with need, and her clit seems already hard, eager to be stimulated.

You stare, transfixed at Yena's beautiful folds, and after a long, silent moment where you try to convince yourself it's okay, you take her panties from her and throw them on the floor.

Yena sticks her ass up higher, wiggling it. There's a delectable curve to her back, and you can spend all day studying the perfect anatomy, her tits hanging, the back dimples above her ass, the dip of her spine. In fact, once you get your mind right (or wrong, depending on how you look at it), you spend at least a few moments massaging her shoulders, her back, feeling every inch of her skin. You can't resist pressing a kiss on her soft, pale skin. Your thumbs rub circles around her shoulder blades, and she whimpers. Whimpers even more when she feels your shaft between her asscheeks.

"Please?" She sounds resigned, exhausted that you haven't fucked her into the couch yet. Yena's giving the sweetest puppy eyes she can.

Taking a deep breath, you hold your erection and rub your cockhead against her folds.

"Fuuck," Yena whines.

You smirk, then push.

The second your cock slides into her cunt, Yena yelps into the sofa.

You've never felt anything so tight before. In one way, her inner walls are like steel, squeezing you with a vice grip that almost hurts, but she's also so warm, wet, and soft. And the more you start to move, the more her inner muscles tighten around your shaft, until they feel like they're already trying to milk your cock for your seed. You're not even done your first stroke.

"Fuuuuck," she moans again, and this time, she pushes her ass up, shoving your cock deeper into her pussy until it hits the deepest part of her. This is where you start to really go for it, thrusting your hips forward before pulling back against the whims of her apparently greedy hole. Every thrust that you give is met with a shove back from Yena, her thighs slapping against yours, your balls slapping against her cunt.

You grunt and bite your lower lip. This girl doesn't give any slack at all. You hiss, one hand gripping the couch, the other on an asscheek. "Fuck, your pussy feels so damn good."

Her only reply is more squealing.

"Yena," you call over the sound of her voice, but she's lost in another world of pleasure. You slap her rump, and it has no effect. Her moaning becomes louder, desperate, and you find it impossible not to speed up, pushing faster and harder. When her ass slaps against you, her juices drip down your balls and onto your couch, and you're suddenly so hot. You can practically feel the sweat dripping down your sides and between your legs.

Without thinking, she's tensing her legs and bringing her knees together, and your cock receives more of this unbelievable friction soothed by a never-ending stream of nectar from her hole.

You grab her long hair, making a ponytail that's more of a handle. It forces a gasp out of her, also forces her to get up onto all fours. Yena looks back at you for the first time in what feels like forever and it's cloudy. Her expression, her eyes, her smile, they're all foggy and lost to lust. You're probably looking at her the same way, unable to truly focus on anything other than the perfect feeling of her pussy.

So you don't expect when she says, "Are you close?"

You manage to puff out an airy "Yeah", surprised at her prescience.

"Remember." She moans when you hit some inner part of her she probably didn't know about. "Nnh, I said, fff, fucking, fuck, cum inside. I wanna feel your cum, dripping, hot, in me."

Your whole body trembles as you slam into her. You slow down for just a moment to put your knees between her legs and force them apart; you're getting too overwhelmed by her pussy. You grab each of her hands, pulling them behind her because you need all the extra leverage to drive through her depths. You pull her enough to lift her torso up; now she's kneeling while sitting on your cock at the same time. You fuck upwards into her, your balls tighten and pulse, and your load is nearly ready to shoot. You hear her breathing change, quickening as she gets closer, but you don't have the strength to last any longer.

Yena cries out loud when you begin to empty into her. "Yes! Yes!"

You're still thrusting even though you're going through a powerful orgasm, your whole body tensing in earthquakes of pulses, all your muscles tightening. She was already so warm, but now it's even warmer when you feel your seed blasting into her insides. By the looks of it, or rather, by the feel of her pussy clenching on your cock, she's going through a similarly strong climax, which causes her to add a mess of clear fluids to mix with your thick white semen.

"Feels so, so, so good," she says raspily.

You grunt in agreement, and your cum dribbles out of her pussy and down your balls.

"Fuuuck." She breathes, barely, and then leans back.

You collapse with her, catching your breath while you catch Yena on your body the whole time. You can hardly breathe; your heart is pounding so fast in your ears. Now you're lying on your back on the couch, and Yena is lying on you, your still-throbbing dick still inside of her creamed hole.

After you finally find your breathing's regular rhythm, you try to sit up, but find that Yena sleeping on top of you makes it a bit difficult.

Luckily, you can just reach over to your coffee table, grab some tissues. You try to clean up as much of the mess underneath you as you can.

Yena stirs awake at your movement and sits up.

"Hey. If you want, you can just head to my bedroom and sleep there. I'll clean this up."

There's a strong blush on her face. "No, no, let me help—"

"No, it's fine, just go ahead."

"Okay. As long as you come sleep with me. If you're not in the room in... five minutes, I'm going to be mad at you. Actually, if you don't, we're never doing this again."

"Oh, so you plan on doing this again?"

Yena crosses her arms. When she sits up, she brings a hand between her legs and slides a finger up her folds. You watch her suck that very finger with a moan, and you're almost hard again. But then she reaches down for her panties, puts them on quickly, and gets up to scurry over to your room.

She said five minutes so you're done cleaning in two.

You head to your bedroom and find Yena half asleep. She stretches when she sees you open the door.

"Cuddle me," she says adorably with her arms out.

You get under your blankets. She's lying on her side, so you lie behind her to spoon her and wrap your arms around her torso.

“Can I be honest with you?" Yena asks. "That was really good sex. I only cum like half the time."

"Really?" You can't hide the grin on your face.

"The feeling of cum inside me just... mmm, fuck. That's why I put on my panties. It makes me tingly and I don't know why."

You whisper, "Wow".

"But. Well. I just can’t imagine us in a million years being exclusive.”

There goes your smile. You loosen your hold of Yena. “So what, you want to sleep with other guys?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that feels unfair.”

“Oh, I think I can make it up to you even better.”

✦✧✦✧✦✧

To be continued.

Yes, this is just one scene of a longer story, but I know myself and figured I might as well post this now (because for one thing, I haven't posted in four months). You might see this again in the full thing edited.

[tillystealeaves]

Steddie Breakup Fic- Interlude #2

Friends, I am bad at this posting thing. Sorry! There's one part left and it WILL be up in a timely manner, I promise!

Part 1 First Interlude AO3

Steve’s heart was shattered. In some ways, this was even worse than when Nancy dumped him. For as much as Steve believed that Nancy had loved him back, he’d always known that they were very different people; that there were things about them that would never line up smoothly.

But Eddie…

Eddie was loud and exuberant and always himself, no matter the cost. He was what high school Steve had never dared to be but had always found himself admiring in others. Eddie created space for others to be themselves as well- for Steve to be himself. Not the King or even the Babysitter. Just Steve.

But Steve knew that Eddie was meant for bigger things. He would be a rockstar, if that was really what he wanted. Or maybe open his own music store, or a shop that sold all the stuff for the games he loved to play. Eddie would grow tired of Steve, with his bleeding heart and his stupid brain and his gaggle of kids that he wouldn’t leave until the last one was at least a hundred miles away from Hawkins.

And so Steve had preemptively given Eddie an out. He knew that Nancy had been unhappy with him for a long time before she finally- well, she really didn’t ever “break up” with him. She called him bullshit and started up her next relationship, assuming that Steve would just figure it out. But clearly she hadn’t just done that overnight without thinking it through. She’d wanted out of the relationship and Steve hadn’t realized it.

Nancy had deserved better than that. Eddie deserved better than that.

Ending things now, before he’d made Eddie miserable, was the best thing Steve could do. He knew that. But his heart was shattered.

Steve’s heart was shattered, but he still had to drive Dustin to school.

Dustin hopped in Steve’s car, already going at a hundred miles an hour, as he always was. Today’s topic of discussion (topic of infodump?) was about rocket fuel. Usually Steve would at least try to follow along, even though he quickly got lost when Dustin’s rants veered into the highly technical. But on that morning, he didn’t even try. He focused on the road in front of him, shutting out the sound of Dustin’s voice, the memory of Eddie’s eyes filling with tears, the sinking feeling that he would always and forever be too much but still not enough.

“Steve! Steve! STEVE!”

“What?” Steve yelped, slamming on the brakes.

“You’re not listening to me at all. Like, okay, fine, you don’t care about aeronautics but you’re not even here in this car with me!”

Steve resumed driving, waving an apology to the car that sped past him after his abrupt stop. “Sorry, man. Just got lost in the drive for a second.”

“No you didn’t.”

Steve had talked to Dustin multiple times about his Tone; the condescending lilt to his voice that Steve was sure he didn’t even mean half the time. But as much as the kid needed to knock it off, Steve had gotten used to it. Much more jarring was the complete lack of Tone in Dustin’s voice now. He wasn’t annoyed at Steve for zoning out; if anything, he sounded concerned.

“Steve, what’s wrong? You look like the dogsitter lost your puppy.”

“I’m fine, Henderson,” Steve tried to assure him. He was the babysitter, the one in charge. He was supposed to be there for Dustin, not make Dustin deal with his… bullshit.

“You’re definitely not.” There was the Tone, Steve laughed to himself. But it was still laced with worry. “It’s not like… a Code Red or anything, right?”

“No of course not,” Steve assured him quickly. Eddie had asked him the same thing the night before. Were they all still traumatized from all that had happened or was Steve really just that sad-looking? He thought it was probably a little of both.

“Then what?” Dustin, always so clever, seemed to understand exactly why Steve was hesitating. “Steve, you know you’re not actually my babysitter, right? We’re friends. You can tell me stuff.”

Steve knew he’d be heading over to Robin’s in just a few hours to talk this all out with her. But the memories from his conversation were tying knots inside his chest. Besides, he rationalized, Dustin knew Eddie. Dustin absolutely believed in Eddie being able to leave Hawkins and achieve whatever dreams he wanted. He’d almost certainly agree with Steve’s decision to prioritize Eddie’s happiness. It would probably help Steve feel less devastated to hear that he’d done the right thing.

“Honestly, it’s… relationship stuff,” Steve admitted softly. They’d arrived at Hawkins High, parked off to the side to stay out of the way of the slow-moving traffic. Still, Steve kept his gaze locked on the windshield, not able to look at Dustin.

“Really? You guys are the most perfect couple! You always seem so happy together!”

Well. So much for making Steve feel better about all of this. He couldn’t respond to Dustin’s statement by saying that actually they weren’t together at all, happy or unhappy, as Steve had broken up with Eddie just hours before.

“He’s just… Sure we’re happy, but we want different things, Henderson. Sometimes just really liking each other isn’t enough.”

“What do you want that’s different? You both just seem like you want big happy families- which you have. The Party is a family- who cares if it’s not by blood? Eddie wants to get out of Hawkins and live somewhere that no one ever looks at him and sees Chrissy. You’re not going to want to stay in your parents’ big sad empty house forever, so that works out. And after that, you’re just… going to live. Right? Maybe Eddie will be a rockstar. Maybe you’ll be doomed to work at jobs that get destroyed on an annual basis. Maybe Eddie will get a job at the Chicago branch of Family Video. Maybe you’ll go to school to be a children’s social worker- yes, we know about that,” Dustin barreled on before Steve had even fully opened his mouth. “You’re not subtle about literally anything. And we all think you’d be great at it. It’s basically a form of extreme  babysitting, but without a nail bat. Anyway, I don’t think it really matters what you two do next; you’ll do it together and you’ll have fun. So what’s the issue? Wait, Steve, are you crying?”

Was he? Steve scrubbed at his eyes. Yeah, apparently he was. “No, I’m good,” he sniffed, trying to gather himself. “I get what you’re saying, Henderson, I do. But I’m… look you know how you guys say that I have a Mom Mode, where I sometimes go too far worrying about you all or baking a ton of stuff or-”

“Wait stop,” Dustin interrupted. “You don’t go too far, Steve. Yeah, you have a Mom Mode and yeah it’s kind of funny sometimes when it gets activated. But… you get that we like it, right? Especially, I mean, well… not all of us have that. I have a mom- my mom is great! But I’ve only ever had just a mom. Having a big brother has been really important. And Max? She’ll never say it but you know how much your support means to her. You- you do know that, right? Of course we’re going to make fun of Mom Mode. One time you baked so much Erica had to deliver goodie bags to all of her friends. But that’s just who you are.”

Now Steve was crying again, and he had absolutely no hope of hiding it. He simply sat there in the front seat of his car, one of his little gremlins sitting beside him, and sobbed at the realization that they didn’t consider his love for them an annoyance or a chore. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to stop.

Dustin, always putting the pieces of puzzles together, immediately solved the puzzle of Steve’s anxieties. “Is this what you think your Relationship Problem is too? That you’re going too far with Eddie? Doing an equally intense Boyfriend Mode?”

Steve sighed, his tears slowing, and nodded.

“Eddie loves attention,” Dustin declared. “Come on, Steve, I’m sure you remember whatever lunch table speeches he was doing when you were still at school. He loves attention so much, he’ll take bad attention. But he loves good attention. It’s what makes him a good DM; it’s why he’s in a band. You absolutely cannot worry about giving him too much attention.”

Dustin had a point, Steve knew. He shrugged noncommittally. Attention was one thing but it wasn’t just that…

“It’s not just that though!” Dustin continued. “Look, you know who’s a great mom? Mrs. Byers. She is great but she is intense. She’s gotten in fights with monsters and dudes with guns over Will. What if, and just go with me here, you were concerned about her and you went Mom Mode on her? But also, you’re still kind of a kid, so she went Mom Mode on you? What if you Mom-Moded at each other? You’re both basically two Frilled Lizards, your frills fully extended, circling each other and ready to Out-Mom each other.”

What? Steve was rapidly losing the thread of Dustin’s metaphor. He wondered if Robin knew what a frilled lizard was.

“That’s you and Eddie. You’re circling each other, frills flared in Boyfriend Mode, just being amazing boyfriends at each other. Everyone around you watches it and we’re super happy for you and vaguely grossed out by how sappy-happy you both are, all at the same time. He’s into it, Steve. You’re right, some people probably wouldn’t be. I think if Suzie and I were actually in the same place and I did that kind of Boyfriend Mode, she’d spray me with a hose. But Eddie writes so many NPCs that are clearly based on you. He gets this dumb smile on his face whenever he talks about you. He’s right there with you.”

Dustin patted Steve on the shoulder and grabbed his backpack, clearly just about done giving Steve shockingly solid advice. “People get anxious about things. I know sometimes Max worries that Lucas is going to get tired of her slowing him down with her crutches- and everyone knows that’s stupid. Even she knows it, but she still worries sometimes. Talk to Eddie about it if you need to. But remember when Max iced us out for months? Don’t do that. Just… don’t hurt him, okay? He really loves you. And he deserves to be happy.”

Steve nodded as Dustin exited the car. He thought he managed to mumble something witty, something along the lines of “Thanks, Dear Abby Henderson.”

Then he was alone in his car.

Steve’s heart was shattered. And apparently he had shattered Eddie’s too.

[hockeyboysimagines]

So far from the stars

Chapter 4

Warnings: implied sex, some language, angst.

Hello all! I hope you enjoy this chapter. As always let me know what you think.

Thanks🤍

Courtney didn’t see or hear from Jeremy for almost a week. The weather was beautiful and warm but she felt so cold.

She was sure that her friendship with him, which had been hanging by a thread seemingly before they had sex, was over now. Even when he was in Boston he was still a part of her life and she still heard from him regularly.

But now it was like he never existed at all. No texts, no calls, no contact through friends. Nothing.

And it was entirely her fault.

She felt terrible, so much in fact that she couldn’t even look at herself in the mirror. She was ashamed, embarrassed and disgusted with what she had done and she’d never wanted to be someone else more in her life. She thought Brad had broken her heart, but that was nothing compared to how hard she’d broken it.

Her friends had been texting, calling, and Kasey and Veronica had even knocked on her door on Wednesday but she’d hidden in her bedroom until they left.

She couldn’t face anyone, unsure of what they knew. Kasey and Veronica would probably understand and forgive her but the rest of them were Jeremy’s friends first, not hers, and they would likely never speak to her again. She’d completely dismantled her friend group single-handedly in one fucking day.

She really sucked.

She sighed and tucked a leg under her settling deeper into her spot on her sofa, wondering how things had gotten so bad so fast when she heard a knock that started out soft before it got louder.

“We know your home bitch open the door!” Veronica called loudly from the other side.

Courtney remained seated holding her breath as if they could hear her, but they weren’t going away.

“We’re not leaving till you come out. Don’t make me start harassing your neighbors cuz I will….COURTNEY. Open! the! door!” Veronica was now banging on the door so loud it was shaking the picture frames on the wall.

With a huff, she pushed off the sofa and made her way slowly across the room taking a deep breath before she opened the door. They looked both annoyed and surprised to see her before Kasey spoke.

“WOW. You look terrible.”

Courtney made a face “Gee thanks. Great to see you too, after all this time that’s the first thing you have to say.”

“It wouldn’t have been so long if you’d answered when we’d been here on Wednesday.” Veronica said quirking an eyebrow.

“I must not have been-“

“No. You were home. Do you think we’re dumb?”

“Don’t really want me to answer that question?”

“Whatever. Come on we’re going fishing.”

Courtney leaned against her framed and crossed her arms “You can go. I’m not in the mood and I don’t like fishing.”

“I wasn’t asking. Get dressed I’ll wait. And we’re not leaving till you do it, so you can either sit and sulk all day while we’re here, or you can get dressed and come along. Your choice.”

Courtney huffed again and stomped up the steps to get dressed and then stomped back down, arms folded the whole way to the car and the whole ride to the lake. Once on the canoe and out into the open, they spoke for the first time.

“What’s your problem? You’ve been kinda bitchy all week.” Kasey said handing her an oar and settling herself on the opposite side of the boat.

“I have not.”

“Kinda bitchy?” Veronica chuckled “That’s a nice way to put it. Ignoring us was extremely bitchy. Does this have anything to do with breaking up with your boyfriend?”

Courtney froze, oar in mid air “My what?”

Veronica smiled mischievously and shrugged, glancing at Kasey “Justin told me that you and Jeremy haven’t talked all week. Said he’s real broken up about it.”

Courtney avoided her eyes and made a face “Well Justin should mind his own business.”

“So that’s exactly what it is then.” Kasey said as they began to paddle out “If you and Jeremy are arguing about something I’m sure it can be solved if you just talk to him. I mean it’s Jeremy.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, everything is fine.”

“Yeah it sounds like it. What is the problem if you just tell us maybe we can-“

“Stop. Can you guys leave-“

But she was silenced when the biggest fish she’d ever seen jumped out of the water and into the boat startling all of them. They stood at the same time upsetting the balance of the canoe, as it flopped around on the floor of the boat. They let out a shriek as they fell into a heap as the fish before it bounced back out, and the boat rocked back and forth, nearly tipping. It was the first time Courtney laughed in a week as they untangled from each other, and attempted to settle the boat. Kasey had lost a shoe and was putting it back on wiping the tears from under her eyes, as Courtney pulled her foot out of the bucket they had on the boat, when Veronica spoke.

“Uhm guys…what happened to our oars?” She questioned.

They glanced around to see the oars had fallen off the side of the boat in the chaos and were now floating several feet away on either side.

“Oh what the fuck. Now what are we gonna do?” Kasey said. She leaned out of the boat as far as sh e could without tipping it to try and reach it but it was no good. It had floated nearly ten feet away by now.

“Well someone’s gonna have to go in and get it.” Veronica said looking at them.

“Oh hell no, that water is freezing I’m not going in.”

“Don’t be so selfish.”

“It’s not about being selfish Veronica it’s about hypothermia-“

“Oh stop it’s not that cold.”

“Oh yeah. Well then why don’t YOU jump in and get it.” Kasey said jabbing her with a finger in the arm. Veronica swatted her hand away and crossed her arms.

“Well I can’t. I don’t know how to swim. Courtney. You’re a great swimmer.”

“Me?? I didn’t even want to come on this trip. It was your idea and you do know how to swim, Queen of skinny dipping, so you get the oar.”

“Bitch I-“

“Alright alright enough enough. Let’s just call someone-“ she was patting her coat pockets and frowned “Not me though. My phones in the car.”

“I have mine but no service.” Veronica held the phone out and waved it around trying to catch a bar but she shook her head “Nothing.”

“I have service. Let me call Justin.”

But he didn’t answer. And neither did Corey, or Mike, or anyone until there was really only one option.

“Well no one answered so I don’t know anyone else.” She put the phone back in her pocket and looked up to find Veronica staring at her with a frown.

“We all know someone who is not busy and a 40 minute drive from here, and who you didn’t even attempt to call.” Veronica leaned around Kelsey and stared at Courtney waiting for an answer.

She made a face and shrugged “Don’t look at me, I don’t know what your talking about.”

“Courtney.” Veronica said leaning forward.

“I don’t want to.”

“Courtney.” She said more firmly.

“What?” Kasey asked looking between them “What are-“

“Courtney is going to call Jeremy to come and get us.”

She shook her head “I’m not calling him.”

“We are STUCK in a boat in the middle of this lake. Now if you have a killer backstroke that can get us out of here then let’s do it. Otherwise call him to get us out.”

Courtney let her head fall back “Fucking fine. But if this backfires I’m pushing both of you overboard.”

Jessica waved her off and Courtney pulled out her phone glancing at them “What-what do I say?”

“Oh give it to me.” Veronica snatched the phone and held it to her ear. It rang a few times before he answered.

Veronica perked up “Jeremy. What? Nevermind why I have her phone I need your help. What? She’s fine listen. We’re stuck in the middle of a lake and no one is answering their phone. Can you come get us? I don’t know how you’re gonna do it but you’ll figure it out. Don’t be an idiot alright just come get us. And hurry it’s fucking freezing out here. Great. Bye.”

She handed the phone back “The guys are all together that’s why they didn’t answer. He’s coming.”

“Fantastic.” Courtney mumbled putting the phone back in her pocket and stuffed her hands in with it.

The wind had picked up a little bit and grey clouds had stared to roll in over the mountain surely signaling rain. It was about 10 minutes until Kasey broke the silence.

“So what happened between you guys anyway?” Kasey asked as she pulled her hood up and stuck her hands in her pockets “Must have been pretty bad if you won’t even call him.”

She looked at her feet “If I tell you guys, can you keep it to yourselves please? I’m already on thin ice with him, the last thing I need is him hearing I’m telling people business that isn’t theirs.”

“Come on. Who are we going to tell?” Veronica asked waving a hand around at the empty lake and outer lying areas.

“I mean like keep it to yourself. Don’t repeat it to anyone.”

“You know we wouldn’t do that.”

Courtney sighed and cleared her throat “We went out for drinks one night, and I guess-I don’t know I guess I kissed him and then passed out.” Veronica’s hand flew over her mouth as she continued “And then he finally told me last week after we saw Brad at the bar and I followed him out and we…you know, and then I just left while he was asleep, and now here we are.”

“You had sex with Jeremy?!” Veronica screeched causing a flock of birds nesting in a tree nearby to take flight, squawking loudly at her from overhead. Kasey didn’t say anything just stared at her open mouthed, letting out a breath “Woooooow.” She breathed out “I didn’t see that coming.”

“Yeah.” She said looking at her feet. It felt good to tell someone about it, but reliving it felt worse than the first time.

“Jesus….so it was great right?”

Kasey coughed to cover her laughing and Courtney rolled her eyes “Really? I tell you all that’s and you ask me how good it was.”

“I mean.” Veronica shrugged and grinned “It’s a fair question no? Plus the guys been in love with you for years so I’m really not that surprised I guess.”

“Well I am. I don’t think he had it in him to make a move like that.” Kasey said giggling.

“Shutup.” Courtney said and kicked at her foot “Did everyone know this except me?”

“I think so but I’m not sure how you didn’t know this. I’ll give you a grace period after the whole Brad thing, but I mean really it never occurred to you that maybe he liked you a little bit more than friends?”

“No. And I mean that really.”

Kasey pursed her lips and closed one eye in thought “I kind of get it. I mean it’s easy to friend zone a guy. Especially one you wanna try and keep in your life as much as possible, but I think you read the signs wrong. He made it pretty obvious, and maybe you don’t see it that way but we all did.”

“I just feel…really bad. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well. I’d start with an apology and then maybe explain why you did it.”

“But I don’t know why I did it.”

“Yes you do. You did it because you like him and you freaked out.”

“Maybe.” Courtney shrugged and closed her eyes as a light breeze swept across the water and she shivered “But what if he hates me.”

“Nah.” Veronica waved her hand “He could hate us, but he could never hate you. No matter how upset he was.”

The minutes ticked by while Kasey and Veronica talked her through how she should handle seeing him for the first time and she felt mostly prepared. That was until she saw Justin’s truck pull up next to Veronica’s car parked by the dock part of the lake. Even from their spot in the boat they could see him laughing as he and the other guys, Jeremy included, hopped out.

Justin gave them a large wave and held his hands around his mouth “Hey! Fancy seeing you guys here!”

Veronica gave him the finger and yelled back “Don’t be an ass! Just come get us we’re stuck.”

“That’s no way to talk to a guy who came to save you, and your the ass who got stuck in the middle of a lake!” He yelled back.

Courtney could see Jeremy hang back as the others got in the boat and rowed out to them, retrieving the oars as they neared the boat.

“So what did we learn?” Justin asked as he handed them to Kasey chuckling.

“Don’t look at me, it wasn’t our fault. It was the fish.”

“The fish?”

“It attacked us and that’s how we lost our oars. It’s true!” She said as they began to paddle back. Courtney felt like she was going to throw up as they neared the shore. Jeremy was leaning on the front fender of Justin’s truck, hands in his pockets, looking at his feet. He didn’t even glance up as the boat beached and she got out. In fact he turned away from her and made his way back to the passenger door as they approached.

“Glad we could have this little gathering because we’re having a party at Mike’s house. You guys in?”

“N-“ Courtney started to say but Veronica slapped her arm and cut her off “We’re in.”

Jeremy paused and half turned looking at her for the first time since he’d gotten there. She looked at him apprehensively and they’d stared at each other for a second before he opened the door and got in the truck wordlessly.

Justin pursed his lips and looked at her apologetically, as they shuffled into their respective vehicles and made the trip to Miles. Kasey and Veronica didn’t bug her in the ride over and she was glad. She’d had so much to say until she saw him and then suddenly she couldn’t find the words. She was not mentally or emotionally prepared to see him after all this time and having to acknowledge what she’d done.

When they reached Mike’s house she stepped out and found herself face to face with him. It was now or never.

She cleared her throat and looked up at him “Thanks.” She said looking down at her feet “You didn’t have to come out and get us.”

He sighed “I wasn’t going to leave you in the middle of a lake Courtney. No matter how upset I am.”

She nodded and blinked a few times tears stinging her eyes “Well I appreciate that.”

He looked so good. Tired, indifferent to her, but good. She wanted to reach out and hug him, but she wasn’t sure he wanted her to do that so she stayed where she was.

“It’s good to see you Courtney. Even if it is a bit weird.” He gave her a half smile and walked ahead of her.

She let out a long breath and followed the group in. He stayed away from her in the house leaving her with Kasey and Veronica. It had hurt her to not see him for a week, really bad. But to see him now and how he wanted nothing to do with her was even worse. She didn’t blame him but it was upsetting none the less.

The rain they’d watched come over the mountain earlier, was now coming down in buckets, and everyone was scattered through the house drinking and having a good time except Courtney, who was pouting in the living room, and Jeremy who was nowhere to be found.

She wondered idly if he left because she was there, until Justin kicked her foot and sat down across from her “What’s wrong? I can see the smoke coming out of your ears from the kitchen.”

She shrugged “Nothing really.”

“He’s still here somewhere. Do you wanna tell me what happened with you guys? He’s been off all week.”

Courtney shook her head and looked at her lap before she looked back up at him. Understanding spread across his face like a lightbulb turning on and he leaned back “Ah. I see.”

“He hates me doesn’t he?”

“I don’t think he could hate you. I think he’s just confused is all. You gotta talk to him.”

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me Justin. If he did he would have.”

“No.” Justin shook his head “I just think he thinks that you don’t wanna talk to him. Just find him and have a conversation with him. Seriously. I promise you’ll feel better.”

He left her to think over a while until she couldn’t think anymore. She needed some air. The inside was too suffocating, too loud, too many people and coupled with the thoughts in her brain it was making her sick to her stomach to be inside. She slipped out of the living room without being noticed, or so she thought and made her way outside rubbing her arms through her sleeves. Fog had covered most of Mikes back and side yard as she made her way to the beach on the back part of the porch, and turned the corner to find Jeremy already seated on it.

Her heart lept into her throat and she stopped mid-step just as he looked up “Oh sorry I didn’t-“

He shook his head and looked back out across the landscape “It’s okay.” He looked at her and then the empty spot next to him on the bench “You can sit. If you want.”

She did want. So bad, and the invite made it seem like he did too. She bit her lip and took a few small steps forward, and sat down next to him, careful not to touch him in case he didn’t want her to. She watched quietly as the excess runoff of rain from the roof overflowed the gutter, making a waterfall that was pooling on the grass and front walk.

It was silent for a few minutes before he finally spoke “I never thought we’d be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like not even friends anymore.” He sounded a little sad, and sighed, glancing down before he looked forward again.

She felt her chest tighten “Are we not friends anymore?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Just because we haven’t spoken-“

“It’s not because we haven’t spoken and you know it.”

She nodded and blinked tears away, sniffling “I know. You deserve better Jeremy.”

“Don’t.” He shook his head “Don’t tell me what I deserve Courtney.”

“I just mean you deserve someone better than me is all. I’m not anyone you want or need in your life.”

“Come on don’t-“ he let out a huff “I don’t know what else to say Courtney. I mean, I’ve been over this in my head 100 times. Maybe I should have kept it to myself, and maybe we shouldn’t have had sex but it happened and instead of talking to me about it, you shut me out.”

She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear “Your right. That was wrong of me. I should have just talked to you about it, and I didn’t. And I’m really sorry.” She blinked tears away “I never thought in a million years that this is a conversation we’d ever be having.”

“Why did you do it though?” He shrugged and turned to look at her for the first time “I thought we could talk about anything. And then, you just shut me out like that.”

“I just got scared is all.”

“Why?” He looked at her sadly “Courtney. I would never do anything to hurt you or jeopardize things between us. You know that right?”

She nodded “I-I do.”

“No I don’t think so.” He was shaking his head “If you did you wouldn’t have walked out on me like that.” He shoved off the bench and stood “I can’t-I can’t do this. I can’t go back to being ‘just your friend Jeremy’ anymore. Maybe that’s selfish, and if it is I’m sorry but it’s just not enough for me and I can’t pretend any longer. And the worst part is I’m pretty sure you feel the same way, but for whatever reason you won’t admit it.” She felt hot tears prick at her eyelids as he continued “I don’t understand why, and I hate that things are the way they are. And I hate that I’m making you cry but I just can’t pretend like I don’t feel about you the way that I do.”

“Wait-“ she said jumping off the bench and grabbing his wrist “Please don’t walk away.” She wrapped her arms around his midsection to keep him in place, cheek resting against his chest. She could feel his heart beating as another tear ran down her cheek and she took a ragged breath.

His stood there frozen for a second before he let out a long breath and reached a hand up to pat her on the back as he said softly “Please don’t-don’t cry.” He put a hand on either side of her face to pull it back from his chest and wiped the tears from under her eyes. His entire body was screaming at him to stop because it would end just like the last time but he just couldn’t do it.

“Jeremy.” She said softly, gaze moving between his mouth and his eyes.

With a big giant Fuck you to his brain, as his heart cheered he leaned in a little, nose brushing hers before he kissed her. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she stood on tiptoe, as a hand came to rest on either side of her waist.

Inside Justin was peering out the window chuckling “What’s happening?” Kasey asked looking over at Justin who chuckled.

“Nothing. Just Jeremy and Courtney making out on the back porch.”

The rest of the group let out a cheer and few cat calls from the kitchen as Kasey and Veronica high fived “No way! Finally. Took them long enough. Jesus what’s it been like 10 years?”

Justin giggled and closed the curtain “Let’s give them some privacy.”

[magicamicitia]

Volume 3, Chapter One

“You can always trust yourself.”

The rain kept rentlessly pouring the entire afternoon. However, through the cramped hospital windows, it made for a somewhat relaxing scenery.

A young woman laid in her hospital bed. She had almost completely recovered, but her hair was unkept and her eyes were tired. A gentle knock on the door startled her fixated gaze away the windows.

“Who’s there?”

A slow creak opened the door revealing the face of a young student. Her glasses were slightly tilted.

“Excuse me, miss Cadance…”

The woman smiled.

“Oh, Twilight. You don’t have to call me that.”

She gestured with her hand.

“Come in.”

Twilight awkwardly stumbled across the room and sat down next to the hospital bed.

“…How are you feeling?”

The room went quiet. Cadance turned to look at the window again, her face was painted with distress. Perhaps that wasn’t the right question to ask right now.

“Y-Your arm, I mean…”

“Oh!” She held the cast close to her chest. “I’m getting better. The doctors said I’d be discharged in a few days.”

“That’s good…” the student sighed with relief. She looked up to notice a strange mark on Cadance’s neck.

“A tattoo…?” she whispered.

The woman looked at her, puzzled.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, it’s nothi-”

Before she could finish her sentence, a familiar shadow peeked from the outside. As their eyes met, the startled Twilight jumped from her chair.

“Are you alright, Twi?” Cadance was clearly worried about her behavior.

“Oh, I’m fine, I just…” She locked her gaze on Kyubey’s face. “I thought I saw something…”

“Can you talk? It’s important.” The animal messaged telepathically.

They locked eyes for some time. She couldn’t trust him. Kyubey was her only source of information regarding the mess she’d gotten herself into, but even then he wasn’t a reliable one. It was all up to her now. She couldn’t let her guard down, no matter what he said.

Twilight took a deep breath and turned to the woman in the bed.

“I’m going to use the bathroom, Okay? I’ll be right back.”

Outside the hospital building, Kyubey patiently waited under the portico, protecting its fur from the pouring rain.

“So…” the creature began.

“What do you want now?” Twilight inquired.

“Well, I hope you’re not still mad about what happened earlier. I did try to warn you.”

“You…”

“In any case,” Kyubey Interrupted. “I assume you noticed the Witch’s Kiss that was imprinted onto Miss Cadance?”

“…What are you talking about?”

He shook his head.

“If a magical girl’s power comes from wishes, then a witch’s power comes from curses. You know that, right? In order to accumulate those curses, witches sap energy from unsuspecting humans, enhancing feelings of grief and depression in order to turn them into suicidal zombies and in turn harvest their life force as nutrients.”

Chills ran through her body like sparks.

“N…No way…”

“I’m quite surprised you didn’t know that.”

Twilight thought back on the other witches she’d fought.

“People nearby… they did have those marks, but… I didn’t understand any of this back then.”

Kyubey snapped its head in an almost horror-like manner.

“Back then?”

Twilight quickly recomposed herself. It was clear that she wasn’t the one asking the questions here. Kyubey just wanted her to slip up.

“What exactly are you hiding from me? It’s not time magic, so what…”

“Thank you for the information, Kyubey.” She cut him off expecting to cloud his judgement. “In order to break the curse on Cadance, I just have to kill the witch, correct?”

Kyubey seemed almost annoyed at the brash interruption, but after a short pause, he warned;

“This witch is not like the others. And Cadance is not the only one under its control.”

“H-Huh…?”

“Just know that… Even when you can trust no one, you can always trust yourself. A magical girl must know how to fight alone.”

“Big talk…” She growled. “Any burden that you can take by yourself is much easier with the help of your friends. It’s not like you would understand… But I do now.”

Twilight walked away under her umbrella, as Kyubey watched immobile from a distance.

“And I didn’t even say anything about friends… Twilight Sparkle, how can you simply forget about your own family like that?”

[tinyinvadr]

Chapter 4 is finally here!

Hide & Shrink

Chapter 4

Neither of us said a word as Ragatha set me down on my now massive bed, then took a step back to give me space. I stared up at her, not sure what I should say, if anything at all.

“So… are you good? Do you want me to stay here, or would you rather be alone? Either’s fine, of course.”

I wasn’t sure what I wanted at that point. It didn’t matter. Either way, I’d feel awful.

“You can stay if you want. I-I’m okay now, though. Just a little shaken up.”

Ragatha nodded, looking down at me with a sad expression.

“I’m sorry about what happened with Jax. I’ll have to talk to him. Can’t say he’ll listen, but he at least gets annoyed when I lecture him and tries to avoid me.”

She stopped for a moment to think about it, then sighed in defeat. “No, that won’t work, he’ll still pick on you if I’m not around. Why does he have to be so difficult?”

To be honest, I wasn’t all that worried about Jax anymore. At least, not at that moment. I was more concerned about what would happen in the long run.

“Ragatha… what happens if Caine can’t fix me?”

She gave a reassuring smile, but I could tell it looked somewhat forced this time.

“I’m sure he will… but even if he doesn’t, I promise, everything’s gonna be okay. Caine… doesn’t really understand humans at all, but from what I can tell, he’s trying. I’m sure he can come up with some way to help you. And even if he gets it wrong, you still have me and the others.”

The amount of faith she put in Caine was so strange to me. It was like she’d truly given up, and yet, she was still keeping herself together at the same time.

“How can you be sure he’s really trying? I mean, he IS the one keeping us all trapped here, isn’t he?”

“That’s what I thought at first, but now I’m not sure. He’s an AI, so he can only do what he was programmed to do. But he was trying to make an exit for us. I don’t think it’s possible for him to do that because whoever programmed him likely didn’t give him that ability, but he still tried. He knows we want to leave, but he’s incapable of getting us out. At least, that’s what I think. I could be completely wrong.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. We’re still trapped either way, though. How… How can you stay this positive?”

Her forced smile finally fell as her gaze traveled to the floor for a second.

“Someone has to.”

We didn’t talk much after that. We just sat in my room, exchanging a few words here and there, but neither of us could really be invested in the conversation. It doesn’t matter which way you look at it. Being indefinitely trapped in the digital realm is horrible.

She left after a while, and I decided to try and get some sleep. There wasn’t much else to do anyway since I would need someone to help me get down from my bed. It would also silence my thoughts for a while, which was something I desperately needed.

I let myself sink into the mattress, wrapping myself in the oversized blankets like a nest, and shut my eyes to let my mind drift off into emptiness. For a while, I could trick my brain into thinking I wasn’t in the digital circus at all. This was my real bed, and I was back at home, having a lazy morning.

Apparently, even in the digital world I’m a heavy sleeper.

When I woke up, I wasn’t in my room, which was already terrifying on its own, but I also woke up to quickly realize that I was in motion. Someone was carrying me, but I couldn’t tell who it was. All I could see around me was a cocoon of light orange fabric.

“Heh. Look who’s finally up. Thought you passed out again or something.”

Great. Him again.

The fabric above my head was pulled aside, and all I could see was Jax’s face staring down at me. I had to be in his overall pocket.

“Jax? What were you doing in my room?”

“Somebody had to come get you for breakfast, shrimpy. Well, I don’t really care whether you eat or not, but the others sent me since I’ve got all the room keys.”

That… didn’t make sense. My door wasn’t locked, and after what happened the day before, the others never would have sent Jax to get me, right?

“Why did you really take me?” I asked, bluntly.

Jax just snickered, that smile never leaving his face.

“You know, you’re smarter than you look, and I don’t dish out compliments lightly so don’t get used to it. Anyway, this little glitch you’ve got going on right now definitely means something. It’s been a whole day and Caine still can’t change you back, which can only mean that this whole digital train wreck is bound to come crashing to a halt any day now. So I got to thinking: if we can figure out what exactly this glitch is, we can exploit the %$!# out of it, destroy this game at its core, and finally get back to our lives. Sound good?”

As much as I wanted to leave, trusting Jax was a risky move. I had to make sure I understood the fullest extent of his intentions before I could even think about agreeing to anything.

“Uh… what do you mean by ‘glitch?’”

Instead of answering, he plucked me out of his pocket without warning, holding me by my shoulders and dangling me up in the air.

“Isn’t it obvious? There’s some sort of error with your digital body that’s blocking out Caine’s control. All we need to do is run a few tests to find out what it is and how to use it.”

I didn’t like where this was going, and I especially didn’t like the sight of the floor so far down below me. But I had to choose my words carefully, since I already knew firsthand that Jax would not hesitate to drop me again if I upset him.

“Can I… get back to you on that?”

There was something about his ever-present smirk that changed. It was almost sinister.

“Who said you had a choice?”

I froze for a second as I processed his words, then, in a desperate attempt to get away, I started kicking and wiggling my shoulders. The whole time, Jax just laughed like this was the funniest thing he ever saw.

It felt like I was kicking and screaming forever, until Jax suddenly plopped me onto his other hand, giving me a solid surface to sit on. Before I could question him any further, I noticed that Caine popped up next to us.

“Good morning, you two! Are you ready for today’s adventure?”

Jax’s demeanor suddenly changed, as if he hadn’t just been tormenting me.

“Appreciate the offer, Caine, but Pomni and I are gonna sit this one out.”

I had to say something. This was my only way out.

“NO WAIT CAINE I WANNA GO WITH YOU!!!”

Caine took a second to process what I said, then let out a cheerful laugh.

“Of course! Now, let’s see, Ragatha told me to try this with you…”

I was shocked when he offered his hand for me to climb on instead of grabbing me. He really was paying attention and trying to match my comfort levels.

Without hesitation, I scrambled onto his hand and curled up into a ball as he held me to his chest for support.

“See you later, Jax! Let me know if you change your mind!”

Jax didn’t say a word. He was too dumbfounded that I went off with Caine even though I was nervous around him.

As we floated down the hall, I realized he wasn’t teleporting to the main stage as usual. Just like Ragatha, he was moving very slowly so I wouldn’t get anxious or sick.

“Glad to see you’re doing better, Pomni. I’m new to this soft, quiet approach, but it seems to work for you, so I’ll keep doing it.”

It was strange to hear him talking in a somewhat calm voice. I could tell he was struggling to keep his constantly upbeat and energetic personality at bay, but I couldn’t help but be impressed by the effort he was willing to put in for my sake. Maybe he really could be reasoned with.

“Caine? Is it okay if I don’t go on the adventure today? I know I said I wanted to, but I just wanted to get away from Jax…”

He suddenly stopped, hovering in place as he looked down at me, concerned.

“That’s… That’s quite alright, but… if everyone else is busy with the adventure and Jax doesn’t want to participate, then there won’t be anyone around to make sure he doesn’t bother you. Unless you stay with me, but I don’t want the others to think I’m picking favorites…”

I honestly didn’t think anyone would care. I certainly didn’t, I only wanted to avoid being a lab rat for that crazy rabbit.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“Alrighty then! That means you’ll get to have a day of fun with me and Bubble! Ah- sorry, I mean… you’ll get to spend the day doing whatever you’re comfortable with.”

I shut my eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. I could work with this. Everything would be okay.

As we continued to travel down the hall, I could feel Caine’s fingers brush against the back of my head. It startled me, but I recognized that this was another attempt at giving me security.

He really was trying.

[verfound]

FIC: "Stop It" (MLB; Lukanette; LBSC Lukanette Month 2024)

@lovebugs-and-snakecharmers is doing a Lukanette Month for September 2024, and we all just kinda tossed some prompts in the disco to compile a list?  We ended up with 71 prompts, so I decided I’d roll some dice to pick a prompt, do a twenty minute (ish, bc we all know sometimes they run away from me) sprint, and try to get some short fics out this month?

Read on Ao3

Prompt 43: “Why do I feel like you enjoy getting yourself into danger?”

Marinette tried for her best smile.  A flirty smile, if you would – just like Alya had taught her.

The superhero standing across from her didn’t look like he was buying it.

That…wasn’t really surprising, she supposed.  Alya might firmly live by flirt your way out of anything, but Marinette always felt less flirty and more…catastrophic chicken.  Y.  Especially around him.

“Really, M. Beetle,” she tried to say, hoping the giggle in her voice didn’t sound too manic, “we have got to stop meeting this way.”

Scarlet Beetle heaved a weary, longsuffering sigh and dropped his head into his palm.  His fingers started massaging his temples, his red-tipped bangs scrunching adorably with the gesture.  Part of her wanted to bat his hand away and sink her own hands in those locks instead – if she could currently move her own hands, that is.  They looked…

…no!  Bad Marinette!  He was the savior of Paris what are you thinking?!

“Why do I feel like you enjoy getting yourself into danger?” he finally asked, looking up at her with a defeated smile.  He crossed the short distance between them and reached up, yanking on the yoyo strings that were currently holding her upside-down in front of him.  She gave a startled yelp as her bindings gave way and gravity did what it did best, but the freefall lasted only a moment.  Scarlet Beetle grunted as he caught her.  She was proud to say she only flailed a little as her arms wrapped around his neck, clinging tight to keep herself from hitting the ground.

…not that he’d let her.  He was too good like that: as often as she’d found herself in sticky, akuma-related situations, he had never let her get hurt.

“…I was just trying to help,” she insisted once she had caught her breath.  She glanced up at him with a pout, and his smile was…less annoyed.

“I need you to help less and hide more,” he said.  He hesitated a moment, and then she would swear his hand caressed her side.  She definitely didn’t hold him a little tighter at that.  She didn’t.  “I need you safe, Marinette.”

“Alya –” she started, but he shook his head.

“I have enough trouble keeping Alya on the sidelines,” he said.  “She’s reckless enough, and I don’t even like her most days.  Definitely not enough for all the gray hair she’s giving me.”

“Is that why you dye it?” she teased, hoping she sounded flirty again as she flicked at his bangs.  He rolled his eyes and squeezed where he was holding her.

“My point, Marinette, is that I can’t be worrying about you as well.  Watching you run into these fights after her like this, completely unprotected…” he said.  “It…distracts me.  You know it does.”

“…but you like me?” she asked, a slight smile curling her lips.  He sucked in a breath, and she would swear his cheeks darkened under the mask.  “M. Beetle, my boyfriend will get jealous.”

“…you don’t have a boyfriend,” he said, an odd note to his voice.  She bit her lip and looked away, her own face flushing at his assertion.

“Not…not yet, no,” she confessed.  “I keep hoping he asks, though.”

“Marinette…” he sighed, looking away.  An explosion sounded in the distance, and his sister shouted for him over their comms.  He winced, and Marinette pressed her fingers below his ear and frowned up at him.  “Paris needs me.  The city…the city comes first.  You know that.”

She was twisting in his arms, laying her head on his shoulder as her arms tightened around his neck.  He sucked in another breath, frozen to the spot.

“I would hope I would understand that,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.  “Just like I would hope someone else would understand that I did.  If…if that was a reason someone might be hesitating.  The thinking I wouldn’t understand.  Because I do.  I –”

It was a bad idea.

Very unprofessional.

Tikki would have Words for him later, he was sure.

But it was too easy to turn his head, for his mouth to find hers and cut her off.  And it wasn’t the kiss she deserved – the one he’d been dreaming of giving her since the moment they’d met – but it would have to do.  For now.  She gripped him a little tighter, and he held her a little closer, and then Cheshire Cat was shouting in his ear again and he had to go.  He pulled away, panting, and leaned his forehead on hers.

“We’ll talk,” he said.  “Later.  We…damn it, Marinette.”

“Go,” she said, her fingers feather-light against his jaw.  He turned his head, kissing the pads of her fingertips, and she smiled.  “I’ll try to stay out of the way.”

“Don’t try, melody,” he whispered, his voice tight.  “Just do it, all right?  If Alya gets hurt, she gets hurt – I’ll fix it later, anyway.  Stop making reckless decisions just because your best friend does.  My poor heart can’t take it.”

“Think what my poor heart does knowing it’s you in the mask,” she tutted.  “I hate watching you get flung around the city like that.”

“Marinette…” he laughed, a little desperately.  She squirmed again until he put her down, but she pecked his lips one last time before patting his shoulders.

“Go,” she said.  “I’ll…can you come by the bakery later?  I’ll be waiting on my balcony.  We’ll talk?”

“We’ll talk,” he agreed, nodding.  He took a step back, readying his yoyo.  He could already feel Tikki’s displeasure echoing through their bond, but he couldn’t stop the stupid smile on his face.  “Now stay out of danger – I mean it!”

[larvaem1lk]

talk too much

ellie williams x reader

🦋 ok so. this is kinda a little bit based off of me because when i’m around someone i really like i will talk their head off & just be annoying overall LOL. anyway, just reader being a lil too talkative while ellie’s trying to work ! but at the end she just gives in bc she loves her gf duhh

🦋 um no warnings !! thanks for reading :-*

(also sorry if ur name is miranda, kristy or ashlin. i just picked names off the top of my head whoops)

ellie’s sat at her desk typing on her computer, with a textbook open and desktop lamp casting a soft golden yellow across the thick pages. you’re in a chair beside her, the type with wheels that roll around, chatting and giggling about nonsense. you’re chirpy and awfully energetic being that it was midnight.

since you hadn’t seen your favorite green eyed girl all day, you walked in her dorm worried and confused. though the feeling quickly subsided as you saw her slumped over her desk, eyes glued to the large book in front of her.

greeting her with a quick peck to the cheek, you immediately plopped down on her bed and began rambling about your day, your girlfriend being the perfect person to tell all your thoughts to.

that was about three hours ago, and you were still here, talking and flying through the clouds in your own little world, practically annoying ellie at this point.

you were filling her in on the drama now, but ellie was too busy absorbing information about stars and celestial bodies and the universe. she’d give the occasional ‘mhm’, or ‘oh okay…’ in attempts to seem interested, yet her efforts went unnoticed.

“yeah like i was saying, i just can’t believe that miranda found kristy and ashlin in the bathroom…together? i mean it’s kristina, stuck up and bitchy kristina who i’m sure was straight. that girl—yeah. but then it’s like, i don’t understand what position they’d have to be in for both of them to be on the wall… you know? i dunno! shits crazy, el. like batshit fucking mad. utterly ridiculous. off the charts. luludelulu. like-” you giggle, finding the words coming out your mouth silly and slightly embarrassing.

ellie blows a stale laugh through her nose, hoping that’d satisfy you as she was completely lost in whatever you were talking about. something about girls on girls, but she wasn’t interested. if it didn’t relate to you on top of her, or vice versa, she didn’t care.

she nibbled on her bottom lip as her eyes scanned over the tiny words of the textbook, brows furrowing as she was in deep thought. though she couldn't really focus due to the sound of a pen clicking nonstop. she gives you a glance and mumbles, “you have any work to do babe?” the sound quite literally driving her insane.

you tap the pen on the table now, pretending to draw love hearts around ellie’s name. “mmm, no. i don’t know. i just wanna be with you right now,”

“hm, okay.” ellie widens her eyes while letting a sigh slip out. this was going to be a loonngg night.

you twirl around in the chair for a while, humming a melody before another topic comes to mind. ellie doesn’t even say anything, pleased that you moved on from the pen to humming.

“anyway. i’ve been thinking…” you trail off, eyes meeting the ceiling as you tilted your head to the side in wonder. ellie hums flatly, lifting her head to the computer screen as she begins typing.

“…when we get married one day,” you begin, and ellie hums with more interest in her voice. okay, you were talking about marriage now. not between kristy and ashlin, but you and her. see, she was paying attention.

“y’think it would be on the beach? or, i dunno. maybe… like homey, set up in our cute backyard, once we get a house of course—with like, dina and jesse and joel and my people. just family. oh! oh my gosh! yeah it should definitely be in our backyard. that’s so cute. that’s cute, right el?”

“totally.” ellie agreed, leaning forward to squint through the white noise of the computer.

you chuckle at the monotone of her voice, wheeling forward to get a closer look at her. “totally, she said. when has ellie williams ever said totally?”

“now.” she responds, and somehow her comment is even funnier. you swing your feet back and forth, babbling on.

“ooh, what about las vegas? you know we’ll be eating good. like, good ellie. i think gordon ramsay has a restaurant there. or what if we get married in paris!” you practically squeal, scooting closer to your girlfriend.

you’re only quiet for a few seconds, eyes flitting over her scattered desk before another idea comes to mind. “oh, the eiffel tower… wait! wait.” you place a hand on her shoulder, fingers tapping against the soft material of her hoodie as you try to gather your thoughts.

there’s a brief moment of silence, and ellie’s mind feels calmer. cooler. she exhales a small slip of breath, letting her fingers type efficiently against the keys. besides that, the dorm is quiet. she could even hear the crickets outside chirping. finally. ellie thinks.

don’t get her wrong, she loved your rambles. your rants. your voice in general. but right now she was in work mode, 76% immersed in the material as the other 24% was for you.

that number was slowly ticking down with each second longer you stayed quiet, her completely focused on studying and only studying. she’s glad you took a break though. allowing your voice to rest, taking a moment to soak in the stillness—

“oh my fucking gosh! italy! we should get married in italy!”

nevermind.

ellie flinches. she flinches so hard that a cramp forms in her neck, squeezing and throbbing with a heat that burns through her upper back. “fuck,” she curses under her breath, rubbing at the spot. it’s like a tiny ringing appears in her ears at the sound of your voice; you’re babbling now, eyes wide as you shake ellie’s shoulder in excitement.

she lets you shake her as she tries to turn to you, tense and cautious of your next possible outburst.

“baby,” she says in an attempt to calm you, but you don’t hear her. obviously. too busy arranging wedding plans in your head.

“just—imagine the love, the romance. oh ellie, i really think we should do it! we’re gonna have to fly everyone out, and—ohhh the food…”

she smiles, feeling her heart swell against her chest. you were the cutest thing. oh, she was being such a dick. just let your girl ramble about wedding plans ellie, is your studying really that important?

yes. it was. so important in that all of the knowledge she had consumed tonight was to be used for a huge exam tomorrow that she could not fail. she couldn't fail. i can’t fail it.

but look at you, with your big bright smile, and your pretty sparkly eyes. the way you’re so excited about marrying her makes her wanna kiss you. kiss you. oh shit, that’s it.

“oh my gosh ellie, the food. would it be stupid to serve pizza? ‘cause y’know, some people don’t like pasta. but we’re in italy, and it’s literally… so like…everyone loves pizza! ugh, what should we serve?! and who the fuck doesn’t like pasta? hey, d’yknow if dina or joel—”

you’re cut off when her lips meet yours abruptly, both of her hands grab each side of your face to pull you closer. the kiss doesn’t deepen. it doesn’t escalate. your lips are just pressed to hers for a very, long time.

you try to wiggle free but ellie doesn’t let go. your lips smush together when you try to talk, and ellie sighs internally. the only thing you had done all night was talk, talk, talk. ellie didn’t wanna be mean, but damn, what else did you have to say?

she pulls away with an agitated groan, and you try to catch your breath while licking your lips.

“wha—what was that for? i was talking—”

“yeah, babe. you were talking. give it a rest, alright? geez,” she shakes her head and sighs out a breathy laugh before turning back over to her computer. “i can’t focus with you in my ear like that.” she mutters, not realizing that she’d just stabbed a knife through your heart.

you’re quiet, cheeks burning in embarrassment. you bounce your leg as you stare at the side of her face before looking at her computer, a wave of sadness creeping over you.

a few minutes pass, and it’s still quiet. too quiet. your mind is still whirring and picturing the perfect wedding for you and your girlfriend, and all you wanna do is talk about it. talk, talk, talk.

you bite your lip to prevent any sudden outbursts or peeps that might irritate ellie. you fiddle with your hands in your lap, and when ellie glances over to your pitiful frame, she frowns.

okay… shit. maybe i kinda fucked up. lemme see what’s wrong.

she types out the final words of her sentence before turning to face you, tilting her head to see your facial expression as your head is hung low.

“hey, babe,” she whispers, and you lift your head with a sigh.

“hm.” is all you say, your spark dimmed and nearing burnout.

ellie places a hand on your knee. her hand is cold and rough, which makes a ding go off in your mind.

“you know they say cold hands mean a warm heart.” you mumble, eyes shifting down to your fingers to continue fiddling with them. you had to let it slip it out, whether she liked it or not. you were sure after this that you’d keep your responses to a minimum, though.

ellie chuckles. you were always the type to say little phrases like that. “yeah? who’s they? ‘cause i dunno if that’s really true—”

“it is true! and don’t ask me. that’s what they always say… and it’s really true, because your—” you cut yourself off, a faint smile on your lips, but it soon falls once you realize you were supposed to be giving the almost silent treatment.

“…well? i’m intrigued now. you can’t just leave me hangin’ like that y’know.”

“ellie… i’ll tell you later.”

“later? why not now?”

you shrug, and ellie scoffs.

“hey, don’t be like that, i wanna know!” she nudges your arm with a smile, trying to pick up your mood. your facial expression remains, unamused.

“okay,” ellie sits up straighter and faces her desk to slam her computer, her book right after. that gets your attention, your head whipping up in confusion. she turns back to you, intent on giving you her undivided attention.

“alright. talk to me.”

you groan, trying to refrain from smiling. “ellie, i can’t-”

“you can.”

“but i was being really rude while you were working, and then you told me to basically shut up so i—“

ellie feels regret bubble in the pit of her chest, sizzling and erupting into her veins. she felt hot now. guilty.

damn, i really fucked up. “babe, i-i didn’t…” she pauses as she slides a hand down her face. “i didn’t tell you to shut up. not... in that way. i was just, a little overwhelmed, that’s all. i’m sorry, okay? truly. you know i love it when you talk to me. so… c’mon. lemme hear that pretty voice of yours.”

you feel bashful, eyelashes fluttering as your gaze meets the floor. you wanna give in, you really want to… but you quickly shake your head, no. she’s gotta finish her work. “but… you need to work, el. i told you i’ll just tell you later.”

her brows furrow, “uh, what work? right now is dedicated to me and my girl.” her green eyes shimmer a silver in the glow of the lamplight as she searches your face, and you feel shy under her gaze, your heart beating a little bit faster. you sigh quietly, a grin finding itself on your lips. “you sure?”

ellie shrugs. “of course. tell me allll about it.” she rests her elbow on her desk while leaning her head in her hand. 

“okay.” you beam, starting another one of your rambles. ellie can’t help but stare at you in awe.