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ssa-babygirl · 4 years

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Out of My League [Part 1]

Pairing: High school!Spencer Reid x Popular!Reader

Word count: 3.7k (god i don’t shut up do i)

Summary: Spencer begins tutoring you in chemistry, and the two of you bond (I would say no pun intended but fuck it that was GOOD so I’ll say pun intended)

Warning(s): Mentions of bullying, mental illness, some swearing, I made one joke about herpes??? sorry if thats a sore spot with anyone, light angst and pining, Reader POV

Author’s Note: Here it is, folks!! The first official part! I’ so grateful for all the feedback I got on the prologue, I’m glad y’all are liking it, I hope you like this part just as much!! Next part I’m gonna have some baby spencer, and by that I mean whole ass adult spencer that just looks baby

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

You absolutely despised chemistry. It’s boring. It’s simultaneously stupid and ridiculously complicated. You weren’t dumb, you were a decent student in all your other classes, but science was never your strong suit. You preferred literature over litmus paper any day. Unfortunately, your failing grade was bringing down your entire GPA, just below the requirement for you to stay on the cheerleading squad. Your coach recommended you get a tutor, or else you were off the team. So you went to the library to see the peer tutoring program, and all of them were booked. The next best thing would be the kid genius in your class. He was probably a better first choice, honestly, but you figured he’d be booked with other students too.

He wasn’t like other kids in your class, not just because he actually cared and was a good student, he was also twelve years old. The kid was a prodigy. He was bullied a lot because of this because no one really understood him. That’s probably why he looked so terrified when you approached him after class one day.

“Hey, Spencer!”

His eyes grew wide as he stared back at you, saying nothing.

“I was just wondering if you were available for tutoring?”

“Oh, uh, um, y-yeah, in chemistry?”

“Yeah, what are your rates like? Like say we do an hour every other day, how much would that be?”

“Oh! N-no charge.”

“Really?”

“The first couple of sessions can be a trial run, I don’t want your money if you’re not benefiting from it.”

That made you smile, this kid was so nice and you just wished that people actually cared about that instead of the dumb shit they bullied him for. Sure, he was skinny and short and dorky and you know, a literal twelve-year-old boy, but if someone would take time to know him, they’d see he’s a good kid.

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t wanna waste your time if you have other students.”

“I don’t, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Great! Are you free after school today?”

He nodded and avoided all eye contact before scurrying out of the room to his next class.

~~~

You met up later in the library. You greeted each other politely with simple hi’s and hey’s and nothing more. Then it was time to pour over your books for an hour and try to force the puzzle pieces into place and hope something finally clicked. Balancing molecular equations physically hurt. Just when you thought you got it all right, Spencer reminded you that you still had to balance the oxygen, which was always bonded with something else, which threw off the whole equation. Every time you made a mistake you just let out a groan and set your head on the table.

“It’s a lot of math, a lot of people have a hard time with it, don’t feel bad.”

“I’m so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not! It’s an easy mistake.”

“You don’t make mistakes like that.”

“That’s because I’ve been taking advanced math classes for the past two years, I’m good at this stuff.”

“You’re good at everything, you're a literal genius.”

“There are people who aren’t geniuses who are good at this sort of thing, just look at Johnny Abrams in our class. He answers every question Mrs. Gustin asks and I once saw him put his backpack on his car’s roof and start driving ‘cuz he forgot it was there. He’s just been practicing. That’s why we’re here, right?”

He always reassured you. Always told you that you weren’t stupid. You weren’t dumb. He always smiled when you got questions right and told you you were doing a good job. When your hour was up, you said goodbye and went home.

Spencer’s mini lectures aside, most of your sessions were sparse in the conversation department. The first time he went off on a side about some chemistry facts, you couldn’t keep up. You just sat there, jaw hanging while he went into detail about saponification, which wasn’t even in this lesson.

“Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Did we learn that in class? Cuz if we did, I’m screwed.”

“No, not yet at least.”

“How do you just… know that?”

Spencer avoided your eyes once again, something he did more than spouting random facts, “I read a lot.”

That’s how it happened the first time. All it took was you asking one question about different types of reactions for him to launch into another spiel. You figured you’d have to know it at some point, so you started writing down whatever you could catch from his fast-paced speech, taking notes in bullet points.

“And that-- Oh. Y-You don’t need to do that, that’s not even on the curriculum.”

“Well, I gotta keep up with you somehow, right?” You glanced up from your page and flashed an almost challenging smirk as you saw him stifle a smile as he avoided all eye contact with you, as per usual. He then cleared his throat and got back to the actually assigned chapter.

The more he went off on tangents, the more he realized you weren’t stopping him. He was actually able to make chemistry sound interesting to you, which is strange, but it was easier to understand through how he explained it all. Something told you that he wasn’t used to having someone listen to what he said, because he just lit up when he talked about this stuff. He was clearly passionate about it, so why would you make him feel bad about it? He always apologized, but you always reassured him it was no big deal.

You didn’t know it at the time, but the kid was falling hard. This pretty, older girl was paying attention to him and didn’t think he was annoying? The bar may have been on the floor for young Spencer, but you were perfect to him. Eventually, he was able to look you in the eyes when you spoke to one another, he even smiled at you when you joked with him. That was another thing: you joked with one another now. You both warmed up to one another as your sessions continued. You said hi to each other in the hallways, you ruffled his hair as a greeting, he accepted your high-five requests every time you got something right.

You still didn’t talk outside of class much, which is why he was caught so far off guard by you calling his name from across the cafeteria as you approached his table.

“Hey, dude! Is it cool if we squeeze in an extra session today? I got a test tomorrow.”

“Y-Yeah, no problem, but, uh, it’s Thursday. Don’t you have practice after school?”

You did. And you had to be there because you had a competition this weekend.

“Yeah, I was wondering if we could meet after?”

“When does it end?”

“Five.”

“Library closes at four.”

“I know, but would it be too much of a hassle if I just… Pick you up tonight and we head back to my house to study?”

You could physically see his brain shut down in his eyes. After he realized he needed to respond, he picked his jaw up off the floor and gulped hard.

“Or you can stay after and hang out at practice and I can just drive you home?”

“Y-Yeah, um, yeah, tha-that works, I can, uh, yeah, we can do that.”

Spencer brought his books and homework and tried his hardest to not make it obvious he was staring at you while you danced. You looked like you were having so much fun and he loved seeing you happy and smiling with your friends like that, it was hard for him to look away and focus long enough to read a sentence, which is saying something, considering it does not take him long to read a sentence.

After practice wrapped up, you told him to go wait by your car while you changed out of your uniform. The girls in the locker room were talking just as loudly as always, only this time, it was about something you actually cared about hearing.

“I mean, really, what was that little creep doing watching us today?” You heard one girl sneer.

“So fucking gross, I don’t wanna know where his prepubescent head was.” Another girl laughed.

You had to step in. You had to say something.

“I’m his ride home. He’s my chemistry tutor and I have a test tomorrow, so back off the kid, he didn’t do shit to you anyway.”

The squad learned to watch their mouths around you after that.

~~~

The neon glow of the golden arches shone through your car’s windows as you pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru line.

“This isn’t your house,” noted Spencer, sounding confused.

You grinned, “Oh, shit… no way! Wow! I’m so glad my tutor is a genius! I would have never guessed this was not my family home!”

He let himself laugh for a moment, “Okay, okay, fine. Why are we here?”

“Uh… to get food? Duh.”

“But what about your food at home?”

“My mom’s visiting my dad, he works in D.C., and I haven’t gotten a chance to go grocery shopping this week, so I can’t cook for you. What do you want?”

“You don’t have to get me anything.”

“No, I insist, it’s almost dinner time. Lemme get you something. As a thank you for squeezing in an extra cramming sesh?”

“It’s fine! Really.”

“Hey, Reid, come on,” you attempt to stifle a stupid giggle as you gesture to the rather large window displaying the playroom inside, “you are a guest in my home!”

Spencer shakes his head and chuckles, but doesn’t dare let you think he found you funny, “I’ll have chicken nuggets.”

“Happy meal?”

He tried to look offended at your clarification, but he quickly dropped the facade, “Yes. Extra fries, please.”

“Of course, buddy.” You pulled up further to the ordering station, catching a glimpse at the menu and the ads they had displayed on it, “Oh no way! They have Strawberry Shortcake toys! I used to collect those when I was a kid!”

Spencer saw the look on your face and couldn’t help but smile at your childlike excitement, “Do you want my happy meal toy?”

You bit your lip and hesitated before throwing all shame to the wind and saying yes. Because it was Spencer. He got excited over chemistry, he had no right to judge you on your old Strawberry Shortcake doll collection.

After you got your food, you drove back to your house, and you ate together at your kitchen island while Spencer quizzed you on the last chapter. He had asked you eighteen questions so far, and you had answered all of them correctly.

“Okay, this last one is for the Strawberry Shortcake--”

“Her name is Orange Blossom.”

“Whatever, this last one is for the Orange Blossom toy: Which type of reaction is represented by this equation?” He showed you his notebook where he had written a molecular equation.

“Substitution.”

“Correct! Now balance it.”

Your shoulders slouched as the pride drained from your body.

“Please don’t make me.”

“This is going to be on the test, Y/N, you have to know it.”

“What’s one wrong question, really?”

“You and I both know she’s not going to put just one balancing question on the test.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, grabbing a pencil and sliding his notebook closer to you. You worked it out after a few minutes, but everything looked right, and judging by Spencer’s proud grin, everything was.

He reached for the figurine, still in the plastic bag, and handed it to you, “You’re gonna do great tomorrow, Y/N.”

You took Orange Blossom from his hands and danced around the kitchen with it, overwhelmed with the sudden feeling of confidence you gained from nailing this practice session. You heard Spencer’s small laugh from behind you, causing you to turn around and face the boy as he lovingly mocked you.

Studying at your place became a regular thing after that, even when your mom was home. She loved him. She always invited him for dinner if she was home. He rarely took her up on the offer, but it was nice having him around the house with you. Study sessions turned into just plain hanging out. You spent more time bonding over Doctor Who than chemistry some nights, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~

When Alexa Lisben invited him to meet her at the football field you were skeptical. You had good reason to be. She was never very nice to you or Spencer. You were able to be civil with her for the sake of the cheerleading squad, but something about her just didn’t sit right with you. You tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen. He seemed offended at the notion that Alexa would do something horrible to him. How dare you imply that the only reason someone would be interested in him would be to pull a fucked up prank?

“I’m not like you, Y/N, I don’t have a line of people waiting around for a date, no one’s ever had a crush on me before, and-and now that someone other than you is being nice to me, you’re telling me that they have some sort of ulterior motive?”

“Spencer. I know these girls, I’ve seen the guys they go for--”

“And I’m not like them?”

“No! You’re a sweet kid, you’re nothing like those guys and they’re gonna take advantage of that.”

“I really wish everyone would stop saying I’m just a kid!”

“You’re not! That came out wrong--”

“Listen, Y/N, I’m going whether you want me to or not, so if you really want to keep babying me, by all means, stay after and wait with me.”

“I don’t wanna baby you!”

“So stop it!”

You didn’t want to fight with him anymore, you weren’t his mother. “Ok, Spencer, fine. I’m sorry. You should go. How about you meet me in the library after and you can tell me all about it over McDonald’s? My treat.”

He warmed up and agreed.

So you waited in the library until four, and then you started to get worried. You went to grab something from your gym locker before you left to look for him and heard some girls from the squad gossiping about “the little dork.” Your blood started to boil as you heard the way they talked about Spencer. Your jaw only clenched harder as you recognized one of the girls’ voices as Alexa Lisben’s.

You poked your head around the lockers that divided the aisles and tried to manage a calm voice, “Hey Alexa? Spencer actually said he was meeting up with you today, do you know where he is?”

She just laughed and said, “I can’t believe you actually care about that loser.”

“He’s my friend.” All attempts to remain level-headed were tossed aside, “Where the fuck is he, what did you do to him?”

You could feel yourself starting to cry. It’s your fault, you weren’t there, you tried to warn him, but now you don’t know where he is or what he’s thinking or--

“Check the field.”

You sprinted out to the football field and saw him stripped down to his briefs, blindfolded, and tied to a goal post. You could kill Alexa. You actually considered turning right around and unleashing hell on that locker room, but your friend needed help. He was crying so hard he didn’t hear you coming until you called his name. You immediately went to untie him and grab his clothes from the fence beside him.

“You were right.” He sniffled, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, I’m sorry, I should have been there, I could have helped you--”

“No, you couldn’t. There were too many people.”

“How many were there? Who did this?”

“Y/N, please--”

“No, Spencer, tell me what happened.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it!”

You know when to stop, so you just shut your mouth while he got dressed, “Get in the car, I’m taking you home.”

You didn’t say a word to him as he buckled his seatbelt and you could tell he appreciated it. You just drove to McDonald’s and got him his usual. You parked in the parking lot and ate your food in almost silence, save for the radio in the background.

“You don’t have to tell me what exactly happened, you could pretend none of this ever happened, I won’t mind, it’s okay, but I just need you to know, Spencer, say the word and she’s dead. I have so much dirt on her, you have no idea, I can destroy her.”

“Don’t.”

“Okay, I won’t. At least give me names. I will personally make sure none of those boys ever get a date again.”

“Y/N, please.”

“I’m serious, I’ll tell everyone they have herpes.”

“I know you are and that’s what scares me, please don’t, I don’t wanna make things worse.”

You decide to drop it because if he doesn’t wanna talk about it, he needs a distraction.

After you finish your food, you ask him “Your house or mine?”

“Yours. Please.”

You drove back to your house and got yourselves set up on the couch in front of the TV, turning on an episode of Doctor Who that you had recorded. You made him popcorn as he curled up on your couch, clutching a pillow. You were mostly quiet for the rest of the night, but when you did talk, it was to ask him a question about the show or if any of the science was accurate. It was the best you could do to keep him mind off things. Eventually, he fell asleep and you felt too bad to wake him. He got up by himself around midnight, jolting awake as if from a nightmare, and considering how the last few hours had been for him, it probably was one.

“Hey, bud, I’m here, it’s me.” You didn’t touch him, knowing he got overstimulated sometimes when he got really stressed, but he felt around for you on the couch next to him, needing to know you were really there this time. You patted his hand when it reached across the cushion for you.

“What time is it?”

“Way too late for you to be here, let’s get you home.”

He nodded, slowly rising to his feet and looking for his backpack, which you reminded him he had left in the car. Your hand hovered above his head for a moment before he lazily drifted into you as he walked. You took this as an okay to touch him, so you ruffled his hair before loosely slinging an arm around his shoulders as you guided him to your car.

The drive back to Spencer’s wasn’t too long, thankfully, because you were sure his parents would be furious with him and the kid’s been through enough today. You wanted to take all the heat without making them think you kidnapped him. The lights were still on when you pulled into the driveway. They were probably worried sick about him.

When you knocked on the door, a frantic woman with short blonde hair opened it. When she saw Spencer, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the house, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Who are you? What are you doing with my son?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong, Mrs. Reid. I’m Y/N, he’s been tutoring me.”

“How do you know me? Spencer, what did you tell her?” She looked at him and back at you, “Get off my property and stay away from us!”

“Mom, she’s a fr--”

“Go up to your room, don’t come out.” She didn’t sound like an angry parent reprimanding her son, she sounded almost... scared.

A million alarms were going off in your head, and you needed to try to get through to her, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, he was helping me study and we lost track of time, it’s not his fault.”

“I don’t care, I don’t know you, get off my property!”

You decided it was best not to argue, so you hurried back to your car and drove home as quickly as possible so you could shower and go to bed and pray that Spencer would be okay tonight.

~~~

Your phone rang early the next morning. You rolled out of bed to answer it, sprinting to the hall table to take it off the stand. Checking the caller ID, you realized it was from a number you didn’t recognize. Answering it, you heard Spencer’s voice on the other side.

“Hello, this is Spencer, is Y/N home?”

“Yes, you woke me up on a Saturday morning, where else am I gonna be, kid?” Your voice was scratchy as you struggled to fight off the sleep still clawing at your throat.

“Sorry about that. I was just calling to apologize for last night.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“N-No, I’m not in trouble, I just wanted to explain why my mother was all--”

“She was worried, I get it.”

“N- she… My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, she doesn’t do well with strangers. She doesn’t even remember what she said to you last night, she was having one of her episodes. She was just confused.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You were so shocked by his sudden revelations, you just stayed silent. You didn’t want him to think he scared you, so you had to say something. And apparently, that something was “Oh.”

“She wanted to apologize, but she’s just a bit embarrassed, so I called for her.”

“N-No, it’s okay, I…” It was suddenly so hard to say you understood because while it made sense to you, you wouldn’t fully understand what he or his mom was going through, you didn’t understand it, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind. He was just glad it didn’t bother you. After the events of yesterday, he couldn’t afford to lose you.

“Tell her I’m sorry I scared her.”

“Will do. She said you could come over so she could apologize personally and meet her if you want.”

“I’d love to. And Spence?”

You felt him take pause. You never called him that before, “Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t wanna scare you.”

“You wouldn’t scare me, dude, you can tell me anything.”

“Really?”

“I promise. I’ll see you Monday?”

Spencer nodded, but you couldn’t see him, so he spoke up through the lump in his throat, “See you Monday.”

Taglist ~~~~~~

(Lmk if you wanna be added!!)

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @baby-pogue @rottenearly

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #mgg #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #cm fan fiction #cm imagine

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dorevenge · 3 years

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where ignorance is bliss - chapter 5: beside your pillow

SUMMARY: Maria and Howard fly out of Monaco and continue to get to know each other abroad. [AO3 LINK]

CHAPTERS: 1 2 3 4 [5] 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 ☆

November 21, 1959 – Nice, France, Nice Cote d’Azur Airport

My bags packed silently that night, I board a flight in first class next to Howard bright and early the next morning. I had left Obadiah’s ring on the empty pillow beside him as he continued to sleep, and I was content to never think of him again. I did not realize what I was becoming, or even know the word for it, but a girl my age should not be traveling across Europe with a man Howard’s age, thinking nothing of prior engagements.

We had taken one of Howard’s private helicopters from Monaco to Nice, France, and from Nice to who-knows-where. Howard wants to surprise me, and, on the plane, I write a letter to my parents explaining that I’ll be missing Thanksgiving. The letter probably won’t get there in time from France, but I’ll be able to make it up to them at Christmas.

It feels like every flight attendant’s head turns to look at Howard as they stroll up and down the aisles, looking right past me to him to meet every one of his potential needs, recognizing him from last month’s Vogue cover. He’s probably the most-attended-to passenger on the flight, offered refill after refill on his champagne. He ends up handing every other glass over to me.

I don’t know what face I was making, but when Howard sees it, he leans into me, whispering reassuringly. “They only like the idea of me. They only know the Howard Stark who does magazine spreads, not the kind you philosophize on rooftops with.”

“You never did tell me your opinion on natalism.” I smile into my champagne flute and sit up a little in my chair. The cushions in first class are so soft I feel like I’m being swallowed whole.

“Another time. We don’t want to run out of things to talk about. What are your thoughts on arc reactors?”

“Let me get back to you on that,” I laugh, perhaps a bit too loud, and the couple across the aisle turn their heads sharply at us. I don’t particularly mind. Howard decides to explain the reactor to me anyway, how it’s theoretical clean energy that will change the world, and it’s important to get in the hands of people who need it, and how it shouldn’t be weaponized. The policies and protocols go over my head, but I enjoy watching him ramble. His hands move excitedly, and I feel held in his warm eyes. If this is what falling in love feels like, I don’t think I’ll mind it at all.

After a few quick minutes, he pauses. “You didn’t get any of that, did you?” he asks, almost sheepishly, an awkward smile on his face. His arms fall to his sides, and he fiddles with the seatbelt.

I reach out and take one of his hands in mine. “Truthfully, I didn’t understand a lick of it, but I’m sure I’ll come to understand it someday. I rather enjoy your ramblings, however.”

The rest of the flight goes on incredibly quickly, us jumping from conversation topic to the other faster than the speed of sound (which, as Howard tells me, is faster than light). Howard’s presence is almost intoxicating, but more akin to nicotine than alcohol. I feel alert and present with him, engaged. I don’t feel talked down to or stupid for not knowing what a quark is.

Howard doesn’t tell me where we’ve landed until we leave the airport terminal, and it’s there I’m accosted by green, red, and white flags and touristy trinkets, and mini Tower of Pisa’s everywhere.

“Rome?” I turn to him.

“Carbonell is Italian, right? Meeting you reminded me that I have been to Rome in a while. It always makes me feel refreshed.”

“And I take it you know all the best places to visit?”

“Of course, doll. Who do you think you’re traveling with?”

By the time the trip is over, I can’t remember all the places we saw, or where we took photographs, where we dined, where we shopped, or who we met. He paid for everything, separate hotel rooms, extra dessert, dresses he caught me gazing at as we strolled past window displays, and shipping them back to Peggy’s place. Every moment is like a dream, and I never stopp to think it might be too good to be true. I don’t want it to end, but, realistically, I know it must, like all good things.

He waits in my hotel room for me to gather my things and repack my suitcase. As I fold my dresses, something falls to the floor.

“I’ll get it,” Howard jumps up and hands it to me; it’s one of Obadiah’s ties. He looks at it quizzically but doesn’t ask.

“Emergency tie. He often forgets. Can’t have the boss looking bad in meetings.” I take it away without looking at him. Howard looks content at my answer and sits back down on the edge of the bed, but a pit is forming in my gut. I haven’t thought of Obadiah the last five days, drowning in Howard’s attention. But what of my job at Stane International? Do I assume that I’m fired? And my things at his place? I had never completely moved in, cycling between his place and my parents’, but there’s enough there that I’d miss. I can’t knock on the door, look at his face, and demand back my things. Can I? I don’t notice I’m wringing the tie between my fists until Howard takes my hands in his.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

My breath catches in my ribs. “I haven’t been completely honest with you, Howard.” I drop the tie into my suitcase and sit next to him. “Obadiah wasn’t just a work partner, nor just my boss. He… I suppose we were engaged.”

Howard stiffens, his shoulders tensing, but his voice is soft. “How do you only suppose something like that?”

“I don’t even remember him proposing, it was just something that happened because it’s something you do. You say yes when a nice man proposes to you, even if you don’t love him.”

“I don’t think that’s fair, to you or to him – or to any man smitten with you – to get engaged to be married to a man you don’t love.” He doesn’t look at me when I glance at him over my shoulder.

Tears fall from my eyes, and I let them sit on my face. “I’m sorry that I deceived you, I… I don’t know what came over me. I’m not a liar by nature. I do know that I’ve felt more with you this last week than I ever did with him.”

“Feel more what?”

“Feel anything.”

“He didn’t make you feel anything? And how long were you with him?”

“Barely ten months.”

He gently wipes the tears off my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, peering up at me with softness in his face. “Ten months. Hell, if I were with you ten months, doll, I’d have married you four months ago.” He pauses. “I take it you didn’t say anything before you left.”

The tears pour out now, and I hide my face between my hands, the guilt overwhelming me. “I left the ring on his pillow like a damn coward.”

Howard places an arm around me and pulls me into his shoulder. “You know, I think we have an open lead accountant position available at Stark Industries. In case your job at Stane is compromised.”

I sit up, leaving wet mascara butterflies on his starch-white button-down. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I own the damn company. My investors don’t control me.”

“I don’t think that’d be fair to the other applicants.”

“There are no other applicants. The job just opened up two seconds ago.”

“Can I at least submit an application? Resume, cover letter, formal interview?”

Howard turns to me. “Let’s interview right now. Are you good at accounting? It says here you went to Columbia Business School, is that right?” He taps at an invisible paper in front of him.

I laugh, smiling, the apples of my cheeks rising and pushing the new tears down the sides of my face. “Yes, and yes. I graduated with honors, even.”

“Hell, that’s good enough for me, doll.” Howard sticks his hand out to me. “You’re hired.”

I pause before I accept his handshake, thinking over my next move. In one motion, I take his hand, using it to pull myself closer to him, reaching out my free hand to cup the side of his face, and I kiss him. I kiss him more deeply and more earnestly than any other kiss in my life. He reacts quickly, placing his hands on my hips, then to my shoulders, to my face, he can’t decide where he wants to touch me. My hands shuffle from his chest, to his neck, to his hair; I tug on his tie because I can’t get close enough to him. My tears transfer from my face to his, my lipstick from my mouth to his, I don’t know what the difference is anymore; I just want him. His movements feel restrained, almost overwhelmingly gentle, never touching me firmly like the way I want him to.

My body betrays the restrictions of our culture, and my tongue darts out from my lips and grazes his. He jolts straight up, hesitating for the faintest moment before granting me passage. When our tongues collide, his restraints break. He grabs my thigh, tightening his grip on my waist, pulling me in ‘til our chests touch, and I can feel his strength through the layers of fabric of my skirt. I inch forward onto his lap to kiss him deeper, my hips starting to grind on their own in an unfamiliar way. I feel desired, for the first time, and I feel warm in places I’ve never felt warm before. And the only thing I know is that I want him in ways I’ve never wanted anything, or anyone, before. The dance between our mouths elicits a moan from my lips, and I sit back, embarrassed.

I catch my reflection over Howard’s shoulder, not recognizing the woman straddling him, with runny mascara, smeared lipstick, and messy hair. I freeze and cover my mouth.

“Tell me what you want, doll,” he says hoarsely, pupils wide and lips swollen. He cradles one side of my face in his hand to look into my eyes, his thumb brushing away tears. “If you want to stop, we’ll stop. If you want to stay right here, we can do that, too. Whatever you want.”

I take a deep breath. Not breaking eye contact, I put my hand on top of his – the one still gripping my thigh – and guide it underneath my dress.

“I know what I want, Howard.”

One side of his face pulls into a dopey half-smile, still partially stunned, piecing together what’s happening.

“You’ll have to use your words, doll.”

I never thought I would be the kind of girl to sleep with a man before marriage, having been raised in a Catholic family and all its associated guilt. I didn’t have enough time to let the guilt fester, however, seeing as, right after Rome, Howard and I flew to Las Vegas and were married the next week, and the week after that moving into his mansion in Manhattan.

#where ignorance is bliss #wiib reading #tony stark #iron man #marvel #fanfiction #canary writes a fanfiction

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poptartmochi · 3 years

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ugh I forgot to ask u for top 5s of artists anyways I would love to know them for kimbra, Japanese breakfast (i feel like u always have a taste for songs I didn't get to yet so I'm excited for the recs!) & willow + 5 extra recs (if u feel up to them)

as always cant wait go hear ur music opinions<3

ouuuugh this was insanely fun to do- I actually haven’t listened to these artists lately (it has been Tennis LOCKDOWN [with the exception of Posing in Bondage] for like an entire week now haha!) so this was a challenge! 😄 i had a ton of fun going through their discographies the other night!

it occurs to me After i write these out that i really do Not need to extrapolate on how i feel about a song or Why it’s on the list but alas...... you know me </3 i am the rambling grandma lingering at your doorstep LMAO (rambler grandma 🤝🏼 gamer grandma brotherhood!) nonetheless, I hope it is readable and that you enjoy my thoughts!!! <3 thank you for the ask!

warning ahead for an Extremely Long Post. if you don’t want to scroll for eternity, either do Not hit the readmore or press J!! good luck down there! if it breaks on mobile + y’all get blasted with the full text... i am so sorry comrades

ask prompt

Kimbra

Settle Down - not my favorite Kimbra song by any stretch of the imagination, but as the song that got me hook line and sinker into the Legend, it Must sit at number one... this song was THE break-up banger of 2017 <3 although the song is about being afraid of your lover leaving you and stuff, this really carried me through recovering from that?? I think it was bitter irony that got me listening to this song obsessively but man.. at the end of the day a banger is a banger <3 Also!!! The studio version of this is Mint, but i’ve linked a live recording which has held my heart captive for literal years now.. the way she remixes and interacts with her own music blows my mind and i am in love with her

Nobody But You- this song is like. a quintessential pop song for me, it’s so lively and shghsghshghs 🥰🥰🥰🥰 but then the BREAKDOWN at the end?? wtf okay!! 🤩😍🤩😍 mini shout-out here to Love in High Places.. in my head they are both part of one insanely long song.. anyhow the “love will finally break your heart and set you free” part + the ensuing guitar are SO good in that song, I still lose it when I listen to it <3

90's Music - so fucking fun and funky.. I don’t think I’ve listed this one before, because sometimes I can’t listen to this song- it gives me a headache 😭😭but when i Can listen to it,, i THRIVE 😈😈

The Build Up- most of Kimbra’s music makes me feel like a fizzy drink, but this one is instead very sobering. i don’t know Why, but something about the composition of this song makes me feel like a little snail on a huge rock watching a stream going by and Also like a weary office worker realizing they want a divorce in the middle of a traffic jam while the sun is going down between tall buildings.. the “That you would come back home when I call” part still makes me go fucking BANANAS, it’s such a powerful bit, it feels like the song is bursting from its own seams in pain. I love how the rest of the song almost plucks itself onto its two feet until the section is referenced again towards the end, and how it descends into like.. Furtive Thinking after.. this song is so beautifully written and i would kiss it on the lips if i could

Waltz Me to the Grave- okay Help 🆘🆘 this song has been a part of my soul since i tried to tackle a happy ending rewrite for nge in 2015 and then again in 2017.. I gave up on the idea when I realized what I was trying to do was kind of dissonant with the themes of nge, BUT. i can still Vividly see the amv I made for this song in my mind... nge aside, I really love how goddamn funky this song is!! Off the top of my head, I can’t think of anything that has the same feel as this song. Sometimes, when you blast the middle bit, it feels like you’re getting torn apart and yk I fuck with that!! To this day, I’m still taken by the instrumentation of this song, it is SO good!

Two Weeks/ Head Over Heels- bonus sixth pick, but you know I’ve loved this song for years <3 this combination works SO well? but that aside, I feel like this song really hammers home how good Kimbra’s production and vocal control are.. I love how she’s just mixed into an instrument for herself to sing on top of??? it’s insane.. anyhow, this cover, more than anything, exemplifies Everything I love about Kimbra’s music! 🥰🥰🥰

somehow there’s no songs from primal heart on here, but just know.... that album is SO good and carries the torch from her previous albums 100%

Japanese Breakfast

Posing in Bondage (2021)- THEEEEEEEEE SONG. i listen to this one every day 🥰 when I open Youtube, a playlist with it at the beginning is Always at the top of my page! it has an Atmosphere, an Ambiance... fucking love this song <3 i think the feeling of the song really matches the loneliness of the lyrics... on an unrelated note. the second verse man.. literally i LOSE IT. that bit in the middle of the night hits so fucking different and i loveeee it

Road Head- the Original Song to Lose My Fucking Mind To asmr.. I think there is something to be said about these two songs Also having a heavy hand in the redevelopment of my first ever oc....... hmm 🧐 that aside though, this song really does feel like Cinematically and broodingly driving across the highway at night, ughhh 🥰 the “Run, run” bit between the verses.. music make you lose control!!! hmm what else about this song.. OHHH in a live, something funky happens and Michelle hesitates for a very tiny beat (here, at 1:33). It reminds me of a tape skipping a beat or something, but hooooga booga i fucking LOVE it, sometimes it feels wrong to listen to the song without it.. I also really like the guitar in that live version I linked- the way it layers over the rest of the song is so fucking good ur honor

Machinist- ughhhh this song.. girl when i say j-brekkie knows how to craft an ambient song, i MEAN IT!!! \T o T/ the “Total control... can’t let go/ It could be bliss” part gives me goosebumps Every Time, and I love how the autotune extends the sound! also the sax solo wtf it’s so good and it comes out of Nowhere?? overall this one is just a really lovely conceptual song!

The Body is a Blade- using japanese breakfast...... to COPE. the lyrics for this song have always hit a chord in my heart, but the bit about emptying the house and staging it for buying hits in such a new way now that our house is about to get sold.. listening to it again made me tear up 🥺 the poem that the title is derived from is also insanely good!

Head Over Heels- is this Actually a japanese breakfast song? No. is it still one of my favorites from them? yeah babey! 😎 This one feels incredibly different from Kimbra’s cover, almost more grim.. i love that so much! I also like how minimal the instruments are here, it really lets Michelle and the vulnerability of her voice shine through. 😍

Here Come the Tubular Bells- bonus 6th pick but it’s only 41 seconds so.. 👀👀👀 BUT. back when i was Hardcore working on mx. thalis tabris dragon age, I would listen to this for Hours Straight in the wee hours of the morning so I could brainstorm their death with the gravity it would carry in the moment and I think, as a result, this song is just weaved into my soul now.. 🆘 It’s been a long time since then, but listening to this still Immediately brings me back to the weight of denerim after the archdemon is defeated and everyone realizes their friendly neighborhood warden is Dead, + the slow and seeping horror that settles in with the realization of that. 😈😈😈

When I first wrote this list, it was mostly Jubilee because I’ve been listening to Jubilee more than their other music, since it’s a new release! <3 however that was skewing everything soooo bonus jubilee top 5

Be Sweet- actually the first song I heard off this album! I remember listening to this obsessively in the week before my sister came to visit, it’s just such a fun poppy song! sound of the summer truly 😙

Savage Good Boy- cannot lie I really loved this song for the first bit of the lyrics bc.... yeah same <3 But when I actually looked at the lyrics I was like wavey babey WHAT is going on!! looking at the explanation on genius lyrics tho... it makes sense! 😲 michelle zauner evil billionaire momence!

Slide Tackle- i LOVE the atmosphere of this song and for the longest time that’s all I really listened to it for.. my love for it increased when I looked up the lyrics because Fuck it’s. Incredibly Relatable 🥺 especially lately- i’ve talked with my brother a few times about how I’ve just become this angry person since I came home and how I don’t want to be that anymore!! so this song is coming to mean a lot for me 🦥

In Hell- Japanese Breakfast’s songs about death have always been a way to explore my own fears about that stuff with my grandparents and this song... hoog man. :( besides that, the chorus in this one is just really pleasant to the ear! ^^

Posing in Cars- the guitar in this one... screams my HEAD off bro!! so good and I love her approach to writing this song. the lyrics are still growing on me but I love her delivery of “But it’s been one o’clock for hours” 🥺🥺

Willow

Samo is Now- ooooOOOUUUUGGGGH. this SONG!!!!!!!!! you have seen me rant and rave about the Atmosphere,, the Ambiance of music for like.. too long now.. so it’s no surprise this one is my top pick for Willow, the guitar and vocals in this are INSANE 💥💥💥🆘💥💥💥 it feels like you’re driving through a Heavy Florida Thunderstorm That Makes You Pull the Fuck Over™... not quite Brooding, but definitely full of Some emotion!!!! ughhh luna it is SOMETHING to listen to this song at night, experiences to ascend to!!

9- i think this is actually the song that introduced me to Willow? I think I found this either as a recommendation off of Solange’s Cranes in the Sky (which.. if you have not heard that I am grabbing your back like a monkey and shaking you viciously!!!!) or from SZA’s Ctrl, but holy shit thank god I found it.. this song makes me feel weightless and yet So heavy-hearted 🥺🥺🥺 I put this on our playlist at work and I really hope it’s still there, this was my favorite thing to listen to there... on Saturdays, when I was by myself, I would put this song on loop and it would be the Only Thing i listened to all day, that’s how good it is <3

Warm Honey- this song is titled v well, it Sounds like warm honey.. I love Willow’s lyricism here- 9 is what really got me into Willow, but Warm Honey was the song that made me take pause and go to Genius Lyrics + go okay!!!!!!! okay bitch!! <3 The “But then I realized, I don’t exist” part.... WHOOO music to lose your Mind to!!

Everything Stays- keeping with the theme from the last bit... music to cry your eyes out to!!! There’s such a tangible melancholy in the first half of the song, and the second half.. it makes my heart feel FULL, it’s so warm. i genuinely cannot put how much I love this song (cover?) into words, it’s just. so so beautiful

Jimi- okay okay so. this one. this is another one that is like here in my Soul, Forever, because i made a very intricate mental nge amv to it back in 2017. I love the harmonies in this one, and the instrumentation??? so good!

Transparent Soul- apologies for not formatting it right but i think it would take up too much space T T but!!!! this came out like 2 months ago and I’ve only recently had the mental space available to give it a proper listen.. i can comfortably say, HOLY SHIT?! the guitar, the fucking power behind willow’s vocals?? and she has a whole new album?! I have a ton of music to catch up on from Willow, but this like lit a fire in my soul and I’m so excited to see what else she’s released lately!

bonus- Kali Uchis

i’ve been a huge fan of Kali since 2018, but I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about her outside of a few comments about sin miedo? Which...😨 that album is a gift from GOD, and i am yet again viciously shaking you like a monkey if you haven’t heard it, BUT. some of her earlier music is Really Near and Dear to my heart, but again i’ve never really mentioned it so 😈😈 hehe here we go babey! Honestly everything off of Isolation and Por Vida is golden and I would wholeheartedly recommend it!! I haven’t listened to much beyond those bc youtube’s album playlist organization is. abysmal. :D but anything from her I would suggest!! here are my top 5!

Flight 22- hooooooooga BOOOOOOGA... this song this fucking song.. I think this song drives me off the walls because A. it is SO GOOD but B. because I have concluded that I am just. obsessed with travel and anything that relates to it.. so a love song that references flying??? GIRL. 💥🆘 It’s such a sweet song- don’t wanna be anywhere if it ain’t with you!! 🥺🥺 The atmosphere and instrumentation reminds me of these lounges we would go to when we were traveling through Europe + got stuck on long layovers and we would have to make little beds by smushing two chairs together.. there’s a specific and really honey-like nostalgia that goes with that that this song is incredibly reminiscent of.. the evening glow of an airport but as a love song, UGH <3 i also love the part that goes “and maybe we’re not gonna make it... 😬😳 at least i’m going down with you 😇 our baggage might just be too fulll 😨😨 on flight 22!” like kali girl!!!!!!! you are going to DIEEE 😭😭😭😭💥🆘😶🤠💥

All or Nothing- the first time I listened to this, I knew from the first few seconds I would be obsessed with it.. there’s such a like 1950′s americana feel to the instrumentation, but the thing that really hooked me is how powerful her voice is!!!! the “aaaAAAAAALLLLL or nooouthing :(” is SO nice to let your voice loose to in the car <3 besides that though there really is this :\ :’( sense to the song that she captures really well, and I love how her voice pushes away from it in the bridge... kali uchis most powerful woman of the world <3

Call Me- whooo girl. tyler the creator produced this song and you can Tell, the background is SO fucking good. but despite that, she Owns this song!! <3 this song, man,,,,,, this song makes me feel like a Temptress, which most songs cannot do.. there’s something about how sweet her vocals are and how detached yet enticing the lyrics are that is SO good. also “No one got me quite like you.. got me sittin round writin haikus 🙄” part is my favorite, when I tell you i choked on my fucking water laughing the first time i heard it <3

Gotta Get Up - i would call this song a depression bop but it’s more like.. song that makes you want to Live in the middle of a depressive spiral, at least for me ^^ like fuck man... we gotta get up and get us something real comrades!!! 😭😭🙏🏻 besides that, I love the harmonies she does in this song... so mfin good

Speed- okay so. now that we are speed i am realizing maybe there was subconscious psychological chess that drove me to Not talk about Kali Uchis on this webbed site... and esp not on thee jojo blog... I am about to divulge one of my Secrets... i must do it before i explain why I actually love this song bc this memory fucking HAUNTS me. 😶😶😶😶 SO. many years ago now (2?), i had a dream (as i often Do) that i had in fact lived out baby sarah’s fantasies of becoming a swag amv creator and that That was my niche on the internet, right............................ Well. in this specific dream, I dreamt that I had created.. a fucking.. diohorse (yes DIOHORSE 😶😲😨😩😟😞😳😳😳😵🥴) amv to THIS SONG... amv but make it camp.. and the beginning of the amv was like ??? about dio being hol horse’s shitty boss, but because it was dio, it was melodrama manwhore momence.. BUT THEN?? i like completely dropped that concept and instead the amv was about hol horse being dio’s chauffeur in wheel of fortune and they were trying to run the sdc off the road. This madness took up basically the entire second half of the amv and was kind of akin to the mania in Foster the People’s Don’t Stop mv except slutty vampire momence instead, right. well. you’d think, how does an amv like that End????? diohorse happy ending?? NO............ IT ENDED WITH DIO CRASHING THROUGH THE WINDOW AND INTO THE OCEAN (to match the music 😭😭😭😭) and sinking to the bottom for another 100 years of slumber 😀😶😶😨😩😬😩🥴🤠🌋🌋🌋🌋 HELP!!!!!! i wish i remembered more than that but ALAS </3 in any case... i fucking WISH i had the skills to make it a reality.. when i was younger i thought it was such a cringe dream but now that i am 21 i Think it is my calling in life, making this amv.. thy will be DONE 😈😈😈 (now that i think about it.. maybe i could bridge the two halves of the amv by having hol horse’s contract about being dio’s chauffeur... omg)

diohorse madness aside (also help.. i cannot figure out how to align this with the rest of the text without making it part of a list.. i just wanted a break in the text ur honor </3), SPEED dude.... holy fucking shit this song girl... seduction.mp4!!!! i love love love the backing to this song, it’s SO good and that combined with kali’s honey sweet vocals makes for something really intoxicating. i remember listening to this song Obsessively when i first heard it 🥰

#long post #sriracha ask game #how much of this is just me going 'OUGH this song.. so good' 🙉🙈🙈#anyhow i am hopefully fr back!! >:) our house is Pending (to cops 🤢) now so Hopefully we don't have to prepare for random showings at a #moment's notice! that was almost worse than the prepping and packing and moving....#the Big Issue with the showings specifically is that now I feel almost possessive of this house.. i'm like have you put literal blood sweat #and tears into this girl??? no? then stop looking at her >(#but like. we cannot live here we cannot Afford to live here anymore girlies. we gotta goooo!#madness and mania in the club tonight 😔#anyhow THIS!! i think part of me went so bananas writing it bc i knew i was writing it for luna.. idk if that makes sense #i was like mad max at my laptop for 2 or 3 hours crafting this >) when i say i became POSSESSED........i mean it #this was a blessing though bc i was Slipping into tennis melancholia and i needed to get outta that asap!!#thank you again luna my friend my comrade my belovie!! 😭💙

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killian-whump · 4 years

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Okay, so please forgive me if any of this is rambly or grammatically incorrect or whatever, because I literally just woke up and I had THE best and most amazing dream ever and I really wanna share it with you guys before I forget any of it.

OKAY so it was a long ass dream, and I’m not going to bore you guys with all the details of the beginning part, except for whatever you guys need to know to understand the awesome part that’s actually of interest to you all. Anyway, I have a lot of dreams that are semi-lucid, where I’m moderately aware that I’m dreaming and only “playing a role” in the dream itself. This was one of those. In this dream, the role-playing was going on in a miniature lego kingdom, and it was all arranged like a virtual playground that people logged into like a video game - and it was actually super duper awesome and I wish someone would build one, because HOLY SHIT was that a lot of fun. Anyway, I played all kinds of princesses and secret agents... and at one point, I even took a turn playing as Dean Winchester and let me tell you, Jensen Ackles was SO pissed at my complete and utter ineptitude and also the fact that I played Dean with a posh British accent, because it made me laugh and I can do whatever I want, so suck it, Jensen Ackles.

Anyway, so somehow my SUPERIOR role-playing skills were apparently gaining an audience and people were watching my adventures, and so the game itself started providing extra content just for ME to play along with. And I ended up doing a special run through the game as MYSELF, so people could “get to know” the person behind the role-player, such-as-it-were. And somehow, I made a complete cock-up of the whole thing, doing shit in the wrong order, getting completely enthralled by the little lego details in the buildings, almost taking out an entire block of lego buildings by tripping... it was basically PRIME “KW is actually an idiot” real estate right there, and the audience was loving it.

At some point in all of this, Dream Colin briefly showed up, but was claiming he was Colin’s twin brother from Oklahoma, and bitch you weren’t fooling anybody, but whatever, he’s cute, so he gets a free pass.

So the dream continues, yadda yadda, and it’s largely awesome and all, yeah, but then the lego airship the current scene was taking place in started falling, and everyone was panicking, and I was like, “Guys, we’re over the ocean and this is an airship, so we’ll just land in the water and christen it a shipship and be pirates or something. It’ll be great.” Except it wasn’t, because the impact of the ship hitting the water pushed the deck below the water level, so all the water ruched INTO the ship and that sucker sank like a stone. But apparently I had somehow out-matrixed the dream world itself, because I was suddenly full-size and glowing, standing in the middle of the ocean the ship had fallen into. So I grabbed the ship, pulled it out of the water, carefully tipped it to drain the water inside without, you know, toppling all the tiny role-players out of it as well, and then set it upright in the water. “Awesome,” I said. “Now we can be pirates!” And then... AND THEN... I heard Captain Hook’s theme and I was like

OH SHIT ARE WE DOING THIS RIGHT NOW

And we were absolutely doing that right now, because I turned around and there’s Dream Colin, no longer pretending to be Dwight from Oklahoma (thank God, that was his worst role ever), but now dressed as... a monk? Wut? Except, you know, I had completely matrixed the game itself, so I knew he was actually playing Captain Hook in disguise as a monk. And he wanted our ship. DUN DUN DUUUUUUN. And so he and I started role-playing this little storyline where he’s trying to win my heart with his innocent monk-y ways, and I’m fully aware that it’s all a ploy, so I’m trying not to fall for his devious plot, but it’s Dream Colin, so of course I’m in love with his character, like that’s a given. I never stood a chance. And the whole time, I was just SO honored and pleased and thrilled that Colin was actually acting out scenes with ME, of all the silly insignificant people, and I’m just, like, barely containing my absolutely glee enough to play opposite him. IT WAS AMAZING. And he was the consummate professional, of course, and completely smoothed over and worked around/through any bungles that came up and I was just like “He is amazing. This is amazing. HE IS AMAZING.”

AND THEN the plot thickened, because Captain Hook didn’t manage to “catch his quarry” - instead, he got caught by her. He fell in love with silly, stupid me. And we were going to get married. My character still thought it was a scam, right up to the wedding, when she realized that the wedding was legit and he was coming clean about his real persona and professing real love.

AND THEN I FUCKING MARRIED DREAM COLIN IN MY DREAM.

And I was like “there is a God and he loves me, because this is the closest I’ll ever come to marrying actual Colin O’Donoghue, right here in this dream where I’m role-playing myself, and my “character” is marrying a character being role-played by Dream Colin right before my eyes. So I was on cloud nine, and we exchanged vows and tiny lego rings, and it was really beautiful, and I even had a moment where I thought, “I can’t wait to tell my Tumblr friends about this dream, because this is the BEST one EVER.

AND THEN DREAM COLIN STARTED SINGING.

And it was a lovely little wedding song, dedicated to me... but the writers put some kind of political statement in one line of the song, because they’re idiots I guess, and the audience misinterpreted it and started booing and loudly singing some opposing political mantra or something, drowning out Colin’s dulcet tones and RUINING MY MOTHER FUCKING DREAM, Y’ALL.

So Colin walked off the stage, and he was clearly upset, and all the assholes in the audience were still carrying on, so I grabbed one of the microphones and started yelling at them all, telling them to shut up and knock it off. And then some neckbeard stood up and said, “Why should we listen to you? You’re just some nobody!” and I yelled “FUCK YOU” into the microphone so loud that the entire place went silent finally. So then I said how Colin is a sweet, wonderful guy, and how he clearly didn’t write the line that they were all offended by, it was the writers who did it, not him, he was just doing his job by singing it, and that he is EXCELLENT at his job, and that it was truly an honor getting to work beside him, and that this whole event and scene were a dream come true for me, “and you bastards are all ruining it, because you’re jerks and you suck.”

And then Dream Colin came back on stage, and he gave me a smile because he was touched by my words and wanted to thank me for them and apologize to the audience for upsetting everyone, and I was like, “Baby, you don’t have to apologize to anyone, I love you, come hug me” but he never got over to me for the hug, because the asshole who’d stood up and called me a nobody GRABBED Dream Colin and was threatening him. So I immediately threw the thing I was holding at the guy’s head, you know, knee-jerk reaction, except that thing was a handkerchief, so... Yeah. That was completely ineffective, and the asshole guy literally shoved Dream Colin under the water we were all still standing in for some reason.

OH MY GOD, IT WAS DREAM WHUMP.

At this point, I was so excited to tell everyone about this dream that I started feeling the edges of it kinda slipping. But as they were slipping, my lucidity increased - and so did my determination to save Dream Colin’s ass before I was pulled out of the dream entirely. So I generated a bowling ball in my hand and threw THAT at the guy, instead. Yeah, that did the trick. Dream Colin was saved, and came up sputtering and ALIVE, and the asshole guy was dead, because you know, bowling ball to the motherfucker’s head and all that.

And then I woke up.

So that’s my story of how I explored a mini lego kingdom, flew in an air ship, saved an entire ship of people, sailed on a pirate ship, acted opposite Colin O’Donoghue, married Colin O’Donoghue, got serenaded, blew a gasket, flat out murdered a motherfucker, and saved Dream Colin’s life.

THE END.

#dream colin #colin dreams #kw has dreams #drowned #bested by others #saved by ME #kw did it #with a bowling ball #BUT I DID IT

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writethehousedown · 4 years

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In My Head, We Belong (Crystal/Gigi) Chapter Three -- Zyan

a/n: hiya! here I come with chapter three :D we’re getting there, folks. For the ones that follow me on my side-blog ( @chachkisalpaca ) and read the mini-fics I’m constantly posting, there might be a familiar bit in the middle of the chapter. ;)

Frey remains the best beta even if she’s tired of my bullshit, love you 🤠

“Let me see if I understand correctly,” Jan says as Gigi takes her measurements. Gigi rolls her eyes, completely embarrassed at Jan’s slightly mocking tone. “You had the perfect opportunity to tell Crystal you like her due to the irony of her comment.” Jan pauses and turns to face Gigi, who groans and tells her to be still. “And then you didn’t?”

“And then I didn’t,” Gigi repeats, staring back at Jan.

Jan snorts as Gigi finishes taking her measurements. The blonde rolls her eyes and walks toward the table, adding the measurements to the sketch of Jan’s dress.

“Y’know, you’re the last person that should be making fun of me,” Gigi points out in an accusatory tone. Jan immediately shuts her mouth, knowing exactly what Gigi’s talking about, but refusing to acknowledge it.

She wanders around the room, trying to look interested in the many mannequins with half-finished dresses. Gigi looks at her over her shoulder, and her face softens up a little.

“Jan, if it helps in any way, I think she definitely likes you too,” she says softly with a smile, and Jan sighs a little before coming closer.

“Is it true? That everyone knows about us already,” she asks with a small voice. Gigi chuckles with a nod and Jan’s cheeks turn red. “Oh my God, it was Yuhua, wasn’t it? She went around spreading it. I knew I saw someone behind the door, but Jaida didn’t believe me.” Jan folds her arms with a pout and Gigi laughs loudly.

“She’s a loud mouthed bitch; you can bet everyone knows already. I think there’s also a bet on when you two are gonna become official, ‘cause, y’know, you usually look at Jaida with heart eyes. Even if Yuhua didn’t discover you two, you kinda just give it away with the way you look at her, which is ironic because everyone but her seems to notice.”

Gigi laughs and Jan hides her face in her palms, her face getting redder with each second. She squeals a little and Gigi goes over to her to pat her shoulder.

“Same,” she merely says as she keeps on patting Jan’s shoulder.

When Jan’s embarrassment washes off, she looks at Gigi bashfully.

“Do you really think she likes me?” She wonders, her voice is small and there’s a tinge of hope in her tone.

Gigi smiles warmly; she knows Jaida, they’ve been friends for years now —Jaida got her the job at the restaurant, actually— and she’s never seen her friend so infatuated with someone. She’s naturally deadpan most of the time, but it took Gigi a total of five seconds to put two and two together, having noticed the way Jaida is more cheerful around Jan, how, when they have night outs, Jaida turns down everyone to dance with her, and she remains sober to take good care of her, how sometimes she smiles at the things Jan does or says when she thinks no one is watching her.

Gigi is positive her friend’s feelings are beyond a simple liking. But she’ll let Jan discover that herself.

She feels a twitch of jealousy when Jan leaves with a promise of asking Jaida out per Gigi’s advice and telling her how it goes. Gigi knows that Jaida will say yes.

She’s happy for her friends, really; she knows they’re good for each other and will make a lovely couple. But she can’t help but want what they have, or will have, anyway.

Gigi starts constructing Jan’s dress and tries, for the love of everything holy, to push Crystal to the back of her brain.

The next week Jan calls her and screeches so loud Gigi has to put her phone away until she stops.

It goes without saying that she has a date with Jaida. She pretty much just starts rambling about what she’s going to do now, where she’s going to take her, what she should wear; Jan is freaking out because she asked Jaida out on an impulse and hasn’t planned anything.

At work she’s got Jan being all giggly around Jaida, and talking to her in hurried whispers, asking for her opinion on various restaurants she thinks Jaida will like. Gigi merely tells Jan to send her a photo of the place later and she’ll judge it, all while juggling her orders.

It’s already confusing as it is, and then Crystal steps into the picture.

“Hey G, have I told you that you look stunning tonight?” She begins with a sing-sang tone and Gigi scoffs, already knowing she needs something.

Gigi’s hair is tied into a bun that is starting to fall apart four hours into her shift, her baby hairs are plastered across her forehead with sweat, there are various stains in her uniform, and she’s not wearing an ounce of make-up; Gigi thinks she’s many things, but right now ‘stunning’ isn’t one of them.

“Yeah, right, and Silky doesn’t cheat in Uno. Spill, what do you need?” She replies bluntly, hearing how Silky complains a few feet away. Crystal acts offended and Gigi chuckles.

“Why do you think I always compliment you when I want a favor? Jeez.” Crystal folds her arms and Gigi cocks a sly brow. “I was gonna ask you to let me borrow the dress you wore at Brianna’s birthday party anyway, compliment or not.”

“Absolutely not,” Gigi replies without a second thought.

The dress Crystal’s talking about is one of her favorites, not only because she made it, but also because she looks nothing short of a goddess when she wears it. Gigi thinks for a moment how Crystal would look wearing it, and though it’d compliment her strawberry blonde hair, she refuses to give it away, just so Crystal can try to impress a man that doesn’t deserve her.

“Please, G! I’ll take the Sunday shift if you let me borrow it!” Crystal begs, putting on puppy eyes, a pout, and all that jazz. Gigi huffs, tapping her foot on the marble floor waiting for her order.

She knows Crystal has a date with this guy she’s been seeing for the past month, and to be honest, she doesn’t like him. He looks dodgy, he has bad breath, and his eyes seem to scan every girl in the room despite having Crystal hanging from his arm. Gigi can’t wrap her head around why or what does he have that attracts Crystal so much.

(Gigi would give everything she got to have what he has, but that’s not something she’ll ever say out loud.)

“You said that the time I lent you my orange skirt and I’m still here on Saturdays. Save your breath, Crys,” she replies as Dusty hands her order and she leaves.

But Crystal is insistent; she quickly grabs her order from Dusty’s hands and goes after her.

“Please! I’ll go talk to Widow right now if that’s what you want; I swear this time it’s for real!” She puts the clients’ orders down and speaks hurriedly to Gigi, who bites her lower lip. Having Sundays free does sound like a good deal…

(She tries not to think about the part where Crystal adds an extra day to her shift for a guy she’ll eventually regret going out with.)

She gives in with an annoyed groan as they make their way back to the kitchen.

“Fine! But, bitch, I swear, I’ll haunt you down if you return it like you returned my green blouse,” Gigi warns, pressing her finger on Crystal’s chest. The green blouse affair had been with a different man; to this day Gigi feels the stickiness on the fabric. Why hadn’t she thrown it out yet, she doesn’t know.

“Thank you! I’ll go talk to Widow right now, love ya!” Crystal kisses her in the cheek, near her lips in a fast move that leaves Gigi breathless for a couple of seconds before Heidi tells her another one of her orders is up. “Oh, and Gigi?” Crystal says before she goes.

Gigi looks back at Crystal and her heart might just stop right there and then at the sight of her happy smile.

“You do look stunning.” She winks at her, and though Gigi is used to Crystal saying some variation of it whenever she complies with her wishes, it still makes her heart flutter.

The rest of the night goes uneventful, or, well, as uneventful as it can be on a full night; Jan still asks for her opinion in the most mundane things regarding her date, Crystal looks radiant, Jaida tries to keep her cool with asshole customers, and Dusty, Heidi and Silky decide to do their famous Who Can Cook Faster competition in the heat of the night, earning either an eye roll or a cheer from the girls, no in between.

“Are you done yet? It’s not that hard to tie the laces!” Gigi asks leaning against the doorframe.

It’s the day of Crystal’s date and she’s trying on the dress for the first time, part of Gigi knows it’s because that if it doesn’t fit her, Gigi is capable of wiping out a dress for her in the blink of an eye — also because she has a massive wardrobe and they’d for sure find something that fits Crystal.

“You say that because you designed it,” Crystal whines and Gigi chuckles. “Can you teach me how to tie it?” She inquires, opening the door and peeking slightly from behind.

Gigi swallows thickly and nods. The dress is made from a shiny black fabric and Gigi could’ve just turned it into a standard black mini dress with thin stripes, but she likes to stand out, so she deepened and widened the cleavage… A lot, and then did a pattern with stripes so the front resembled a corset. It fits her perfectly because her breasts are almost non-existent, but Crystal…

She steps into the room and her breath gets caught in her throat when she looks over at Crystal; she’s untied the stripes and is holding the dress in place, looking at her with a bashful expression. Gigi inhales deeply and comes closer to her, indicating to move her hands aside so she can tie it.

Gigi takes the ends of the stripes and narrates the whole process. Her fingers brush against Crystal’s warm skin while she’s working her way up the dress, and if she hears Crystal inhale sharply and feels her muscles tense under her touch, she doesn’t mention it.

She reaches the end and she’s careful when she tugs at the stripes to tighten the dress.

“… And then you can make a bow with the ends, like this, see?” Gigi instructs, trying not to let her voice quiver as she ties said bow.

When she’s done, she takes a step back and admires Crystal. It’s safe to say she’s lost the ability to speak completely.

When Gigi doesn’t say anything, Crystal heads to Gigi’s mirror and checks herself out. She lets out a little excited squeal that absolutely melts her heart.

“Gigi, it looks beautiful!” She exclaims with a toothy smile, admiring herself in the mirror.

“You are beautiful,” Gigi says without thinking it twice, looking at Crystal as if she’s the reason the sun comes out every day.

Crystal turns to look at her, and Gigi witnesses how her expressions change slowly.

A cold sweat runs down her back when Crystal squints slightly at her and inhales sharply. Has she noticed the way her fingers twitch after touching her skin? The way she looks at her with such yearn; longing to be the one she has a date with?

If she notices she doesn’t say it, and though Gigi is relieved it makes her heart tighten a little.

“Thank you so much, G,” she says softly, a smile blooming on her face. Gigi smiles widely. “You’re a great friend.”

Gigi freezes the smile on her face and nods. Though, on the inside she feels as if she’s wearing socks and just stepped into a puddle.

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd/gigi goode #jaida essence hall/jan sport #crystal methyd #gigi goode #jaida essence hall #jan sport #zyan #slow burn #lesbian au #cisgirl au #waitress au #spring fling week 2020 #day 3: puddle #submission

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jessie-writes-things · 4 years

Note

Hi, Lexi! This is going to be a weird question and pls reply only if you’re comfortable with it. I don’t have an account but I’ve been stalking on your blog quite a while now. I just saw your dyslexia post and I was wondering how dyslexia is for you? I always suspected that I had it myself but I’ve never been diagnosed simply because I didn’t “underperform” in school. ...

(2) ... In fact I was better than my peers at things such as reading and writing in school but I remember that when I first started reading my mom worked so hard so patiently to get into both. Since she had it herself I think she suspected I might have dyslexia but sadly she passed away so I can’t ask her. ...

(3) ... I guess my question is this: I love literature, I love learning languages (I can see that you do too from your choice of major!) and I can memorize things easily *if* I’m actually interested in them but I do have my reasons to suspect that I can be dyslexic. My therapist suspects it too but he never delved into that since I didn’t ask. So as someone who loves reading/writing but also is dyslexic, how was your experience? Like I said: only if you’re comfortable talking! ✨

***

Hey love! Don’t worry, it’s not a weird question at all. To be honest, a lot of my uni friends and lecturers have asked similar questions (apparently it was pretty damn easy for my lectures to spot I was dyslexic and my friends just think it's odd that I would pick this degree 😂).

Also, this ended up being a lot longer than I was expecting, so sorry about that. I did try to cut it down as much as possible but I tend to ramble a lot. 😂

[Edit after posting this; I’m gonna put it under a ‘read more’ because, jesus, this really was longer than I thought and I know not everyone cares about this kinda thing 😂 ]

In my opinion, at least, I think the whole ‘you have to be underperforming to be dyslexia’ is a bad stereotype anyway. I have some mates who have diagnosed dyslexia and they’re always getting top grades in everything. Someone’s ability to read/write/remember stuff isn’t really an indication of their intelligence.

I’m sorry to hear about your mum, love. She sounded like a great person. And props to her for helping you learn those skills. It’s really tricky, especially if you’re struggling with similar issues.

I was kind of the opposite, to be honest. My older brother and I were always in ‘special classes’ growing up (my younger sister is the smart one and was in all the ‘advanced classes’). My brother was diagnosed with autism and ADHD pretty young and I was showing similar symptoms so they started testing me for the same things (which is very likely I have both but that’s a whole other situation 🙃).

In terms of ‘’symptoms’’ for me it’s mostly getting letters like d/b, p/q backwards, words/letters ‘moving’ around, not being able to comprehend basic words/sentences, getting basic grammar mixed up, horrible spelling, getting my left/rights mixed up, etc.

The biggest issue I have is getting my thoughts out. It becomes very evident in situations like this in which I have to write long pieces of texts. I can formulate the ideas in my head but when I have to write them, everything gets jumbled. Which is fine for thins such as essays and CW pieces that I have the time/energy to edit. But when I’m just trying to have a conversation (kinda like this) things can get a bit messy. 😂

Anyway, throughout primary school, we were both tested for dyslexia each year and were given the extra support the other people with dyslexia had but never officially diagnosed with it. At one point I went through like 6 hearing tests in 4 months (my brother is hard of hearing, so at first they thought the dyslexic symptoms linked to that).

To cut a very long part short; my first secondary school (around 11 years old) was crap and the teachers bulled me a lot because I couldn’t read write or really speak. I ended up moving from that school anyway. But in the end, I think I was about 12 when I taught myself to read in the end. I think I just got fed up with people being twats and so I took out a book from the library (which turned out to be Twilight 😂) and used Google translate to help me sound out the words.

My GCSE (around 15-17 years old) English teacher helped me a lot. She was the first person who came to me and said that I had some decent writing potential but that I clearly needed a lot of help to build on it. For those two years, we would set up mini-lessons after school where I would go and practise writing with her one-to-one and that helped a lot.

There was some other stuff as well, but I don’t want to let this get too long. 😂 I still struggle with reading a lot, especially now that I’ve picked the French back up, but at this point it’s more about being patient and practising.

I don’t think I’ve ever had an official diagnosis for it (apart from all of my English teachers saying I have it), but there are tests you can take online for free which can be a good place to start. I know people who have taken the tests, printed them out and took them to the learning support at uni to get help during exams and stuff.

If there are other people you know of (either irl or online) that you can ask, that could be really helpful. Also, it might be worth bringing it up to your therapist again if that’s something you wanna do. They might be able to give some ideas on how to help with things, or at least point you in the direction of where to get help.

Like you kind of mentioned above though, finding stuff you’re interested in really helps. After the Twilight thing, I went through a giant reading stage and read pretty much everything in my school's library which helped the general comprehension and spelling.

Anyway, I hope that answers some of your questions? If you ever wanna talk about stuff like this, then I’m always happy to! I know stuff like this can get really crappy, especially if you don’t have anyone to talk to. And again, sorry this ended up being so long. 😂 😊

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rebelminxy · 5 years

Text

Not So Blue Christmas

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x PlusSize!Reader

Word Count: 1952

Warning: Fluff and then SMUT!

Trope: Sexy Santa Dress

Rating: Mature Audience

A/N: Ok, ok, I had to at least get one smut for the trope @supernaturaltropecelebration Christmas Mini Bang. Images are not mine, they were found on Pinterest and Google, so credit goes to their original creator. I hope you enjoy!

A/N 2: I hope EVERYONE had an awesome Christmas and a Happy Holiday! That you got to spend time with those you love and enjoy the holidays. Now let’s get ready because 2020 is right around the corner!!!

My Masterlist

You stood back in the darkest corner of the hall while you watched the fans sing along with Richard and Rob as they sang Holly Jolly Christmas. It was a week before Christmas and the Supernatural cast was doing their last convention for the year. You were supposed to be out in Paris for a fashion show your new plus size clothing line was highlighting in, but you really miss your man after being away from him for the past four months because of work. You hadn’t told him about your arrival just in case you weren’t able to make it, but after the phone call with Gen. you knew you had to make it to the convention.

“Gen told me you were supposed to arrive tomorrow,” Jared’s voice interrupted your thoughts.

“I caught an earlier flight and came straight here once I landed,” you replied, smiling up at him.

“Well, good thing you arrived tonight. Jay was planning on leaving tomorrow to Paris right after our photo op. Took a lot to convince him to wait on buying a plane ticket.”

“What time will you guys be heading back to the hotel?”

“If it all ends on time, we should be back around eleven. Everyone wants to at least have a few drinks before we head back since a few cast members are leaving in the morning.”

“A few drinks?” you asked cautiously.

“I know Gen told you he was drinking a bit more than usual because of your time apart, but I promise I won’t let him go back drunk to the hotel room,” Jared responded with a chuckle as he pulled a card out of his jeans pocket, handing it to you. “He really misses you, ya know.”

“Yeah, same here. But seriously, don’t let him get drunk, I’ve got some news to share and I need him sober.”

“I’ve got ya, darling,” Jared winked at you, causing you to smile.

That’s when the crowd broke out in applause, causing you both to look up at the stage to see Jensen walking across it, waving at the crowd. You felt your heart warm at the sight of him. Compared to the constant Skype calls, they were nothing to seeing him in person. He sat on a stool next to Rob which had a mic in front.

“I need to go backstage, but have fun tonight and make sure he is at least ready for midday tomorrow. Good luck with the news.”

You smiled at Jared as he walked away towards the door he used to get to you. You turned to look back at the stage as Jensen spoke.

“Well, hey there everyone! Hope y’all enjoying tonight’s music.”

The crowd went wild with screams as he took the guitar Richard handed him.

“Since Christmas is right around the corner, we all thought it would be fun to just sing holiday songs. But I gotta admit, I’m not feeling so great this season.”

“WHAT’S WRONG JENSEN?” someone screamed out from the crowd.

“Well, as you all know, (Y/N) my girlfriend, is currently in Paris for a fashion show that is presenting her new clothing line,” he replied, which caused the crowd to go wild once again.

“I heard her plus size clothing line has been doing great and she is planning on doing a spring line inspired by the Supernatural family,” Rob added.

“That is true,” Jensen responded. “But because of our busy schedule, this will be the very first Christmas we won't celebrate together.”

The ‘awws’ resonated through the crowd. Jensen smiled weakly at everyone.

“So the only song I could think of singing tonight was Elvis Presley’s ‘Blue Christmas’ to convey my feelings. I hope y’all don’t mind singing along with me.”

The crowd went silent as Jensen and Rob began to play their guitars, the band joining them as they played the song. When Jensen began to sing, you could feel the same sadness you felt for the past months, being separated from him. Your friends made fun of how attached to the hip you and Jensen were, but you couldn’t help how much you loved the man, and how much he adored you. As the crowd sang along with him, you made your way out of the hall. You smiled to yourself as you held onto the card Jared gave you, knowing what you had planned would be perfect.

It was around ten-thirty at night when you heard Jared outside the suite.

“Dude, they promised to unlock the door in the morning.”

“Then how will I get dressed? What am I going to wear to sleep? All my belongings are in that room!”

“They made sure the suite would have an extra pair of pajamas for you and they will get your things out first thing in the morning. Let’s not have what happened in Montreal again.”

You could hear Jensen grunt on the other side as he unlocked the door. You quickly ran over to the living room of the suite and sat down on the gigantic couch that took up half the room. You heard the door shut and his heavy footsteps as he walked towards the living room area, which was in the direction of the bedroom. You smiled as you watched him freeze at the entrance, staring at you in disbelief.

“Hey there, babe. Miss me?” you said flirtatiously.

You sat there wearing a thigh-high velvet Santa dress you made two weeks ago, right after you made the decision for your flight back home. The dress showed off your deliciously thick thighs, and you wore black thigh high stockings and ankle-high black six-inch heel boots with gold buckles on the side. Your hair was curled and loose, and a Santa hat pinned to your head. Simple makeup to finish the entire look, but was underneath the outfit was the real surprise.

Without waiting another second, Jensen walked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours as he dropped down to his knees in front of you. As you looked at him, he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you close into a deep, passionate kiss. A kiss you had been craving for the last few months. His lips pressed against yours, so soft and plump. He kissed you with such force, the force of a man that missed his woman. His tongue begged for entrance, licking the slit of your lips, which you gave so willingly. Tongues clashed against each other as they danced for dominance, the dominance you always gave in to after you teased him a bit. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck in turn, your fingers grasping his short hair. You moaned into his mouth, wanting more, but you knew you had to wait, at least until he was fed.

Sadly, you broke free from his kiss, hooded eyes looking at each other as you smiled at him, stroking the back of his neck.

“Missed you so much babe,” he groaned out, his hands gliding over your curvy hips to your round bottom.

“Same, babe, you don’t know how much I wanted to just leave everything behind to be with you.”

“But you’re here now,” he whispered back, his own smile breaking free. “How did you get away? I thought you had to be there for the show?”

“Left Angela in charge, and they don’t really need me there. It’s not like Paris will miss me,” you giggled. “Now, I ordered us some food that should still be warm so let's eat first, and then we can spend the rest of our time together.”

Jensen only nodded in response, his hand holding yours as you got up and guided him towards the dining table not far from the couch.

You were wrapped in Jensen’s arms, sitting on the couch after dinner. After having a long conversation playing catch up, you finally felt it was the right time to give him your news. But before you could speak a word, Jensen beat you to the punch.

“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to move in together?”

You stayed silent for a moment.

“Look, I know our jobs consist of us traveling constantly, but I was planning on buying a house in Austin, have a more permanent place out there. And I was wondering if you would like to move in your stuff so that when you aren’t traveling, you have a permanent home...with me.”

He began to ramble about how much he loved you and wanted to spend more time with you instead of being in separate homes in different states. Explained how Austin would be a perfect place to settle at and having a home together would be wonderful.

“You don’t have to answer right now. Figured you might be leaving back to Paris since you did say you had an…”

“I’m not going back to Paris, not anytime soon anyway,” you interrupted.

“What do you mean? When you left you said…”

“I know what I said, but traveling to Paris will make things a bit more difficult.”

You got up from his arms and stood before him, taking in a deep breath. Looking into his eyes, you began.

“The reason why I can’t go to Paris is that I am taking some time off. About a year off actually.”

“What’s wrong?” Jensen asked anxiously. “Is everything ok?”

“Everything is fine, babe. I just don’t know how you will take it,” you replied, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Remember the two weeks before I left? That trip to Miami?”

“Yeah, we decided to enjoy those weeks before we went back to work.”

“Well ...simply put it….” you began to stutter.

Jensen took hold of your hands in his and gave you his typical silly grin.

“I had forgotten to get a refill of my pill and didn’t take it during those days. I thought because my period was over that we would be safe and I would just get the refill in Paris!” you blurted out in one go.

Jensen’s eyes narrowed before growing wide, realizing what you were saying.

“I had a doctor monitor me out in Paris and since you were so excited with directing a few episodes, I wanted to wait until I was out the three-month danger zone to tell you. Plus, I know how dedicated you are to your career right now…”

“Wait so you knew this entire time and didn’t tell me?” Jensen said, his voice rising.

“I was scared, Jay. You know my history with miscarriages and I didn’t want to get my… our hopes up if this was another one,” you replied with a whine.

“Babe, even if it was, I would have been there with you every step of the way. Even from Vancouver, I would have wanted to be with you through it all.”

“I know, it was just my fear. I was afraid to have you see me break down.”

Jensen got up and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly.

“I love you so much, (Y/N). I get you were afraid, but remember, I love you no matter what.”

“I know, Jay,” you replied softly. “And that’s why I’m back in the states. I couldn’t wait any longer to tell you the good news and fought so hard with Gen about…”

“Wait, you told Gen but not me?”

“I told her about a week ago. Asking if she could help me through all this as someone who has two kids of her own.”

“Ok, that’s good,” he answered.

“Plus, she is the one looking for the best obstetrician in Austin…” you mumbled, hoping Jensen heard you.

“Wait, Austin?”

You looked up at him through your lashes, a tint of red dancing across your cheeks.

“I was hoping tonight that with this news you would be open to living together, but you beat me to the punch with that… AHHHHH!”

You screamed out as Jensen picked you up in his arms and began twirling around the room, his deep rumble of a laugh vibrating against you as you held on, laughing along with him from joy. Suddenly, he stopped and put you down, dropping to his knees as he touched your stomach.

“I’m sorry, are you both ok?” he asked with a worried tone.

“We are fine, babe. I just flew seven-plus hours in economy. I think a quick moment of joy will be ok.”

“Economy! Nope, our flight to Austin will be first class. You and the baby need space and comfort.”

“Our? I thought you were heading back to Vancouver after the con?”

“Nope, we are all off for the holidays and won’t be back to shooting till January. So, since you are here and staying, wait, you are staying right?”

“Silly bean!” you exclaimed in laughter. “I did say I was taking a year off.”

“Good, because I want you both safe and sound in our new home. The home we will search for once we get to Austin.”

You smiled down at him, feeling such warmth radiate through you as he carefully rubbed your belly. Thinking back on how you felt when you first saw that pregnancy test, you knew this was all worth it. You leaned down and kissed him on his forehead, hoping he felt the same joy you were feeling at this very moment. But that joy was then replaced by desire, the desire to show him how much you loved him.

You turned in his arms and asked for him to unzip your dress. He got up from the floor and slowly did so, his fingertips caressing your skin underneath the cloth inside. Once unzipped, you slid the velvet sleeves down, letting the dress pool down onto the floor. You heard Jensen gasped softly as you turned and faced him.

You wore a silk red see-through full body lingerie set. The piece showed off your curves, a red silk belt wrapped underneath your breasts into a bow. It had peacock patterns all over it and garter belts held up your black stockings. It was a set you saw in Paris and knew you had to buy for tonight’s meet up.

“Baby, are you sure we can…” Jensen began as his eyes grazed over every inch of your body.

“Positive, plus four months is too long, and I need you now.”

You pulled Jensen into you, kissing him desperately. Lips mashed against each other, tongues entangled in desire. You clutched onto his shirt as if grabbing on for dear life as you felt your body turn into jelly just from his hands gliding over your curves, his mouth dominating yours. You unbutton it, pushing it off his shoulders once he was free. Feeling his hot skin under your hands felt so good, like a craving finally being pleased. You knew you couldn’t wait to reach the bedroom, that place can wait for later. You needed him here and now, and by the way he pressed into you, the feel of his length against your stomach, you knew he felt the same.

You stumbled to guide him over to the couch, struggling to remove the rest of his clothes. He eventually helped you, finally stripping him down bare. You smirked as you saw how hard he was, pushing him to sit on the couch, his eyes never leaving you. You climbed onto his lap and began to rock your hips against his length. He threw his head back in pleasure as you put more pressure against him, his eyes closing as he began to lift his hips up to feel more. You grabbed the couch as you picked up the pace, enjoying how delicious it felt as his length rubbed against you, causing you to grow wetter between your legs.

You were so close to your high, but Jensen grabbed your hips and picked you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He kissed you roughly, nibbling your bottom lip as he guided you both to an open area of the living room space. He slowly got down to his knees, never letting you go. Once he kneeled, his hands grabbed the back of your lingerie and he ripped it open, letting your breasts bounce free as he reached for your front and ripped that down.

“That was silk,” you groaned out between the kisses.

“I’ll get you a new one,” he grunted back as he began to trail kisses down your jawline to the crook of your neck, his hands ripping the rest of the piece from you.

“Don’t care about it, only want you,” you huffed back, arching your back in pleasure as his kisses dropped down to the top of your breasts as the piece of silk finally slipped off your body.

He cupped each breast in his hands, juggling them as he licked and nibbled at the top of them. You dropped down with a grunt, splayed on the floor for his view, legs still wrapped around his waist. You could hear him say the word delicious before burying his face between your breasts, licking and nibbling his way to one nipple. He took that nipple into his mouth and bit down hard, causing you to scream out, your fingers digging into his hair. Switching from one nipple to the other, he gave both the same pleasurable treatment, causing them to stand perk at attention. Removing a hand from his head, you slid it between your bodies and grabbed hold of his swollen length, pumping him as best you could from the angle you were at. You grinned as you felt his body jerk at your touch, his moans growing louder as you moved your hand faster.

“I want you inside me,” you mewled into his ear, spreading your legs open.

Jensen lifted his hips, letting you guide him towards your entrance. You teased yourself with his tip, sliding it up and down against your soaking entrance. He then pushed through, slowly and taking his time, enjoying the missed feeling of your wet warmth around him. He groaned out a ‘fuck’ as he finally filled you up entirely, keeping still for a moment. You felt his body shake above you and you wrapped a leg around his waist again, whispering in his ear to move. And he complied, moving out of you to then push back in.

It was a slow start, just enjoying the feel of your bodies flush against each other, but control was soon lost as your groans grew louder, edging him on for more. His thrusts became faster, rough and with total need. You were so close, right on the edge, groaning out his name when he whispered in your ear.

“Come for me, (Y/N).”

His deep rumble pushed you over the edge, causing you to tighten around him as you screamed his name out. A few more thrusts from him and you felt as he came inside you, your name bouncing off his lips as his entire body went tense over you.

As you both fell from your respective highs, Jensen dropped his head into your shoulder, using his arms to not put his entire weight on you. You laid there, enjoying the only sound of your heavy breathing. After a minute, Jensen pulled out his already softening length from inside you and fell beside you. You moved over to lay against him, his arm coming around you to pull you close.

“Best Christmas gift ever,” Jensen finally said with a chuckle.

“It’s not even Christmas yet,” you replied softly. “I have a gift for you though.”

“I will take tonight and the baby as an early Christmas gift.”

You both laughed at his response, his fingertips grazing over the slightly raised skin from the possible carpet burn on your back.

“Seriously though, this is the best gift anyone could give me, and I am so happy it's with you that I finally start a family with, (Y/N).”

“Love you too, Jay. Happy super early Christmas, babe.”

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #Supernatural RPF #rpf fanfic #Jensen Ackles #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x you #jensen ackles x you #christmas fanfic #christmasmini #christmas #merry christmas #supernatural trope celebration

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yoon-kooks · 5 years

Text

Study Buddy

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: College!AU, Fluff

Summary: You agree to share your notes for the upcoming midterm with the most popular boy on campus if he agrees to make it a study date.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: @chiwoopsie happy birthday and happy graduation! 😭🎉

“In the last minute of class, I’d like to make an amendment to the syllabus,” the old feeble man at the front of the room says, waving around a paper with handwritten notes and arrows in the margin. As a professor of ancient history, he follows the ancient techniques of handling everything orally in person rather than through the convenience of emails and computers. “Surprise, surprise! Next week, we’ll be having our midterm. If you’ve been coming to class everyday and taking notes, you should be prepared… but if not, you best see me in office hours, or better yet, make a new friend!”

Ha! You’ve come to every single lecture thus far, and you’ve certainly taken notes, so you’ll be fine as long as you look over the material a few times before the exam. You can’t say the same for the large majority of the folks in your class, however. A long line has formed to speak to the professor about the midterm as soon as class ended. You recognize those students as the ones who rarely come to class, and for lack of a better word, they are fucked.

You watch the panicked students ask the professor about the content of the exam, a possible study guide, and extra credit opportunities. But your professor’s only response is, “If you’ve been coming to class, you should already know the answers.” And you’re living for it. You don’t even mind waiting at the end of the long line to ask a question out of genuine curiosity about today’s lecture on Ancient Egypt.

The best part, however, comes when the boy in front of you turns around and points at the open notebook in your hand.

“Wow, your notes are really pretty,” he says with an impressed eyebrow raise. You recognize his designer-boyfriend fashion and bright smile as that one kid who’s always doodling in the margins of his notebook—you know this because he always sits in the seat in front of you (he smells yummy like coconuts and vanilla, by the way!). He also just so happens to be a mega flirt and the most popular boy on campus, Jung Hoseok.

“Thanks,” you avert eye contact and stare down at your notes. Your notes might be “pretty” because you’re a diligent student who actually cares to pay attention to the lectures, but you have your suspicions on the intent of Hoseok’s compliment. Because more often than not, people have asked to take pictures of your pretty notes when they were too lazy to do it themselves.

Thankfully, before Hoseok even has a chance to ask for a picture of your notes, you point his attention towards the professor waiting for another desperate question about the exam.

“So, here’s the thing: I kind of missed last week’s lecture, so I don’t really have any notes for that day, so—”

“So make a new friend,” the professor cuts Hoseok off and makes eye contact with you. “For example, students like Y/N always do a phenomenal job on the written assignments, so I’m sure you can find someone to help you out with your dilemma.”

Your professor gestures not-so-subtly in your direction, Hoseok turns around, and you give them both a tiny wave. “A-anyway, I had a question about today’s—”

“Sorry, Y/N, I don’t have time for anymore questions right now... But please feel free to see me in office hours!” The old man, clearly in a rush, cuts you off. He nods to you and the boy before hustling out of the lecture hall. “Good luck studying, you two!”

“Oh…” You watch as the door slams shut behind the old man, trapping you with Jung Hoseok and an awkward silence. It wouldn’t be so bad if your professor hadn’t tried to push Hoseok into being your study buddy, but now you feel some sort of obligation to wait and see if he asks for your help. So you just stand there, pretending to be busy on your phone until he makes the first move.

“What were you going to ask him?” You suppose this is Hoseok’s way of breaking the silence.

“Just something I was curious about with the Sphix of Giza…” you shrug your shoulders. “Nothing related to the exam, if you were wondering.”

“So you’re not stressing over the exam like everyone else is?”

“Perks of coming to class and taking notes everyday, I guess,” you shrug again.

“Yeah, I missed one lecture and now I feel unprepared.” He frowns, running his fingers through his hair and ruffling it a bit. The coconutty-vanilla aroma must be his shampoo because, damn, you really got a good whiff of it just now. Not only is he trying to play the sympathy card with that adorable frown, but he’s also trying to intoxicate you with his own scent! Ha, not today, Satan!

“It’d be a whole lot easier for everyone if the professor just posted a study guide online, huh,” you say instead of offering up your pretty notes. Of course, you don’t actually mind that your professor opted not to make a study guide at the convenience of all the lazy students who failed to attend lecture. But that’s not something that the lazy students like Jung Hoseok would understand.

“That’s true, but I understand why he’s so against study guides and posting anything online for us.”

“You do?” You’re genuinely shocked.

“Yeah, he wants to reward those pay attention in class and punish those who skip class, right?” Hoseok tilts his head and it’s kind of cute. “It puts more of the responsibility on the students.”

You nod because he’s exactly right. Maybe he does understand… Or not.

“That being said,” Hoseok presses his palms together in a pleading manner. “Would it be possible for me to take a look at your notes? Just for the one lecture I missed?”

You just blink at the boy for a moment. If it were really just for one lecture, you wouldn’t mind too much. But this isn’t your first rodeo. It might start out as “just one lecture”, but eventually they’ll come back asking for more. Because they think they can take advantage of hardworking students like yourself. And if that’s the case with Hoseok, you’re certainly going to want something in exchange for your pretty notes.

“Fine, I’ll share my notes with you only if we make it a study date.” You nod to yourself, proud of your negotiation skills. If Hoseok agrees, then you have yourself a date with the most handsome boy you’ve ever seen. If he declines, then he doesn’t deserve to see your pretty notes and can perish along with his grade. It’s a win-win for you, though you do expect to be rejected. You might even prefer the rejection to avoid social interaction, considering you’re a strong believer in antisocial potatoism.

“Let’s have a study date then,” he says without hesitation. You’re caught off-guard by a cheeky smile before he takes your hand into his. “What’s your favorite coffee shop?”

“What—”

You alternate between staring into your caramel macchiato and staring at Hoseok taking a sip of his coffee. Why did a total hottie like Jung Hoseok agree to this study date? Or more importantly, who was the idiot that proposed the study date in the first place? Because it seems like more of an inconvenience for you when it would’ve been so much easier to let him take a photo of your notes and go home and never speak to him ever again. Now you’re stuck on a date with the hottie for the next hour or two. What an absolute tragedy.

When Hoseok opens his notebook, however, something does spark your curiosity about the boy—tiny, poorly drawn sphinxes in the margins of an otherwise empty page. Why does he even bother coming to class if he’s just going to sit there and doodle the entire time? At that point, you’d think it’d be a waste of time to even come to class. But before you have a chance to raise the question about his terrible art skills, he flips the page over to a fresh one.

“Mesopotamia,” you say, assuming it’s your cue to start filling the boy in on the lecture he missed.

“Ooh, like Babylon and shit…” he nods. You still haven’t brought out your own notes, but he obediently starts writing the lecture topic in bold block letters at the top of the page.

“Yeah, and also Sumer and Assyria and…” As you ramble on and on about the subject, you expect the boy to doodle like he always does in lecture. But to your surprise, he’s laser-focused on writing down bullet points of everything you’re saying, and when he misses something, he asks you for clarification.

At one point, he sets his pen down to let his hand rest and instead gives you his full attention—by staring right into your eyes! Flustered is an understatement to how you feel, looking back into his bright yet intimidating eyes. And although you tend to break eye contact and stumble over your words, your little mini lesson on Mesopotamia becomes more of a conversation than a lecture. Talking with an attractive boy is easier than anticipated.

“You aren’t going to doodle like you always do in class?” you pause your lesson because you’re genuinely curious and you need a break from Hoseok’s beautiful eyes piercing through your soul.

“Huh? Nah, that’s just what I do when I’m bored and trying to stay awake through a lecture,” Hoseok chuckles as he flips back through the older pages in his notebook. Rather than having a notebook of only doodles, it seems like he went back and added in notes from each respective lecture after the fact—perhaps by sweet-talking other good students like you. “Besides, you’re much more intriguing than our professor.”

“Wouldn’t it be a lot easier if you just take a picture of my notes?” You finally take out your notes and slide them over for Hoseok’s eyes to see. You want to test him. Because if you’re just another one of his note sources that he’s gonna toss aside after getting what he wants, you’d rather not waste anymore of your time with him.

“Why? Do you have to leave soon?” He checks his watch with another cute frown and starts chugging down his coffee.

“No, no, no.” You wave your hands so the boy doesn’t rush to finish all his coffee. “I was just saying that taking a picture would be a lot quicker and easier… if you didn’t want to stick around and hear me babble on and on or something.”

“Oh… But I like listening to you babble.” His frown turns into a duck face. “And besides, you made it super easy for me to absorb the material. I usually have a difficult time following the professor and taking notes at the same time—that’s why I always doodle in class to stay awake and focused, and I end up having to write my notes right after class from what I can remember.”

“Except for today,” you say, recalling the empty page with tiny sphinxes and slowly piecing together of complexities of Jung Hoseok.

“Right, I still have to write out my Egypt notes when I get home,” he gives you a thumbs-up as thanks for reminding him. “But I’ll worry about that later.”

You blink at him. All this time you thought he was some slacker who relied on others for their notes, but it turns out his intentions with you were the purest of pure. And he really likes you as a teacher, too, even though you’d given him a hard time about it. So maybe Hoseok isn’t so bad after all.

“Or… we could go over the Egypt stuff together after Mesopotamia, if you’d like?” You take a sip of your macchiato. There’s still plenty of caffeine left in your cup, so you might as well stay a little longer.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” Hoseok’s bright smile nearly blinds you. He literally radiates the sun’s energy. “And maybe we can figure out what you wanted to know about the Sphinx of Giza that you couldn’t ask the professor earlier.”

And you do figure it out, together. Not only that, but you notice Hoseok picked up on certain lecture details that you must’ve missed. Together you fill in the blanks, together you learn something new, and together you stay at the coffee shop until closing.

Maybe your ancient history professor had a good point in keeping his class entirely offline and in-person. Because while it would’ve been more convenient to share a study guide online or take a pic of someone else’s notes, you no longer consider yourself an idiot for proposing the study date between you and Jung Hoseok.

#bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #hoseok fanfic #bts college au #hoseok x reader #hoseok #jhope #bts #bangtan #study buddy

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ghostburs-blue · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found

Summary: Aiden’s family is a disappointment (are we surprised),, bday time! + tony’s basically a dad now

Warnings: major fluff, fatherfigure!tony, angst if you squint

Part Eight

For the next week, Tony made the executive decision to keep Peter and Aiden home from school, much to Aiden’s disappointment. (“I can’t believe how much homework I’m going to have to make up!”).

Training became a big part of Aiden’s day, usually Bucky or Nat for 2+ hours a day. Aiden also started pitching in to make dinner for everybody, much to the group’s excitement. They constantly complained about Steve’s inability to make anything more than pasta, and the rest didn’t even know how to cook. So, Aiden filled in the gap as chef and made dinner for them every night if she wasn’t too tired.

Pepper quickly became a mother figure to Aiden, and Wanda and Nat were like (extremely) overprotective sisters, who could also kill someone. Tony and Steve became Aiden’s father figures, while Bucky was more like a cool uncle who she would go to when anything happened. Sam was the annoying brother who she still loved (barely). Vision acted as a grandpa almost, stopping random squabbles and acting wise all the time. Scott and Hope were always acting like another set of parent figures; Scott was silly but could always cheer Aiden up and Hope would always give her logical advice. Rocket tried to teach Aiden how to pickpocket, much to Steve’s dismay, and Gamora, Mantis, and Drax all loved Aiden. Quill would always mess with her in a loving way, and they were always laughing together. Thor was yet another close friend, and they were constantly talking about one thing or the other when they were together.

Then, there was Peter (Parker). After that one fateful night, Aiden and Peter were practically attached at the hip. It became a common occurrence for Aiden to go to sleep alone and then wake up with Peter next to her. Aiden had F.R.I.D.A.Y. notify her if Peter ever had a nightmare in his room at night, so she could go over and comfort him.

Slowly but surely, the Avengers became her family. Aiden could almost begin to forget Tom and her parents and brother back home. However, Aiden and Peter couldn’t hide out at the tower forever; they had to go back to school.

Monday morning rolled around, and Aiden woke up in her own bed. She had gone back home the night before so that she would be prepared to go back to school. It felt strange being back in her bed; she was so used to the one in her room at the tower.

Checking the time, Aiden realized she only had an hour before she had to leave for school. Rushing around her room, she threw on a forest green sweater with boyfriend jeans and black Doc Martens. She left her hair down and grabbed a granola bar on the way out the door, hurrying to get to the subway station on time.

Aiden breathed a sigh of relief as she reached school on time and walked in, heading to her locker. On the way there, she heard somebody call her name, and she turned around, confused. It didn’t sound like Peter or Ned, Peter’s best friend. Her jaw practically dropped open when she saw Flash Thompson running towards her.

Subconsciously, she started to back up, but stopped when he called out, “WAIT!” and reached a hand out towards her. Aiden opened her mouth to talk, but was cut off by Flash.

“Hey, Aiden! I was just wondering if you were okay?” He asked, panting.

At this, she grows even more confused. “What are you talking about?” She questioned.

“You weren’t at school for most of last week, and it was your first week at school, so I was wondering if you were good?” He rambled nervously.

Aiden grinned and pulled him into a hug, startling Flash. “I’m great! Sorry, I just got really sick. I guess my body’s not used to all this New York pollution.” She waved her hand dismissively. Flash smiled, then pulled her into another hug. Then, he pulled away, and ran to catch up with the rest of his group who were waiting for him.

Aiden smiled a little, then turned around and continued to her locker.

At lunch, she sat with Peter, Ned, and a girl named MJ. MJ kept to herself, sticking to reading her books and throwing in a few sarcastic comments every now and then.

Aiden decided to make it her mission to become friends with MJ and have a conversation with her. She would talk to MJ a lot, and ask her for help when Peter and Ned were being stupid.

Every day after school, Happy Hogan would come to pick up Peter and Ned, and they would go to the Avengers Tower. Aiden would train for an hour or two with Bucky, then would sit with Bruce and Tony in the workshop or lab and do her homework with Peter. The two adults would help them out, and she always made it a priority to talk to everyone everyday before she left to go home for the night.

Rather quickly, Aiden and MJ became quite close, and considered themselves best friends. Aiden and Flash talked, and Flash opened up about how his family life at home wasn’t great, to which Aiden shared her story with her family. They hugged it out, and now Flash was like a brother to her. She even convinced him to stop calling Peter Penis Parker. The bullying was still a work in progress.

Speaking of Peter, their relationship was continually progressing. The best part of Aiden’s day was when she could see Peter; it was safe to say that he thought the same way. Everyone could see the sparks between them; even Flash had asked Aiden about it (multiple times).

Sam had sworn to Aiden if Peter ever breaks her heart, he’ll break Peter. Everyone else had said something along those lines to her as well, Flash and MJ included. The only people who were oblivious to Aiden’s change in attitude were her parents; they never really paid attention to her and neither did her brother. She felt like a stranger in her own home and she hated every second of it.

The weeks leading up to Aiden’s birthday, she didn’t mention anything to anybody. When Tom was still on good terms with their family, they would wake the birthday person up with a celebratory breakfast of their choosing with a little candle on the top. That stopped after he left, however.

That morning, Aiden woke up on her own, before her alarm. She decided to make her own birthday breakfast, complete with a candle. She prepared some waffles, then topped them with fresh fruit and whipped cream.

Adding a little candle at the top, Aiden lit it and made a wish. She blew it out, alone in the kitchen, and whispered to herself, “Happy birthday”. It was then that she noticed a little note on the countertop, taped down.

Padding over to read it, she recognized her mother’s handwriting.

It read, Aiden, your father, brother, and I have gone on a little vacation. We left early this morning for a red-eye flight. We didn’t bother to bring you because you have to get your grades up anyway, you don’t deserve to go on this trip. We should be back in a week. There’s enough frozen meals in the freezer to last you that long. We’ve also left you a few hundred dollars. We’re going to our old city to meet up with some people.

At this, Aiden gasped, and tears started to blur her vision. She had practically been begging to go back to their home and visit all of her friends, yet they went without her. She continued to read the note.

P.S. happy birthday

She sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm herself. She headed to her room and got ready for the day, deciding to be a little extra because it was her birthday. She pulled on a plaid yellow mini dress, and some Tommy Hilfiger sneakers.

I’m not going to let my family ruin my birthday, Aiden thought. Just as she was about to do her makeup and hair, she heard a knock at the door.

Walking over, she swung it open to find all the Avengers (minus Tony) standing at her door. She gasped and brought her hands up to her mouth. They started to sing happy birthday to her, and as they finished, Peter stepped forward.

Aiden rushed over to him and pulled him into a tight squeeze, brought to tears for the second time today. Then, she frowned, pulling away.

“How did you guys know it was my birthday? I didn’t tell anyone,” She commented.

Nat and Steve shrugged, then chorused, “Tony,” at the same time. Aiden smiled. Her attention was brought over to Peter when he handed her a small gift bag; she took it and smiled.

“Really, guys, you didn’t have to. I didn’t tell anyone for a reason,” Aiden stated, crossing her arms.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Of course we had to! You’re part of the family, Aiden! Speaking of family, where is your family?” He leaned to the side to see an empty apartment.

Aiden sighed and shook her head. “They left for a trip to my hometown early this morning… I didn’t even get to see them. They left a note on the kitchen counter. I’ve wanted to go back and visit for the longest time, and they decided to go without me on my birthday. So, yeah, that’s where they are.” She finished. Everyone was silent for a moment, before Peter rushed towards her and wrapped her in a hug. She buried her head into his shoulder, before lifting her head and wiping her eyes with one free hand.

Then, before she could second guess herself, she leaned in and closed her eyes, kissing him.

Peter was stunned for a second, then came to his senses and kissed back. Aiden smiled into it, and it felt like everything melted away. Her arms came up and her fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pulling him closer. She forgot all of her pain in that second, and only her and Peter existed in their little world. Then, someone coughed, and they broke apart, breathing heavily.

“Took you guys long enough!” Sam said, and everyone laughed and clapped. Peter grinned and pulled her in for another kiss. Aiden happily obliged, and by the time they stopped, she was out of breath, grinning like crazy.

The Avengers waited in her living room while she finished getting ready. They had surprised her by saying they were all taking her to school instead of having to take the train, and Aiden couldn’t have been more excited.

Walking into the kitchen to grab water, she found Bucky and Sam raiding her fridge. She laughed as Bucky popped his head out, a plum in his mouth. a/n - I’m sorry I HAD TO GIVE HIM A DAMN PLUM.

“Hey, you’re finally ready!” He exclaimed, poking Sam in the side. Sam turned and gave her a lopsided smile, and before long, they were all leaving the building.

Getting into the car, Scott, who was driving, passed the aux to Aiden to play her choice of music. Aiden being Aiden, she blasted some old hits of the 2000s, and soon everyone was jamming out in the car, singing their hearts out. Everyone except for Bucky and Steve, who had absolutely no clue as to what was going on and looked mortified.

They pulled up to Midtown fairly quickly, and already, people were staring. Since Tony couldn’t be there, he had insisted on giving them all a limo and made everyone wear their superhero suits, as if it wasn’t embarrassing enough to have them scream happy birthday as she exited the car.

The entire group got out of the car, and everyone stood and stared in shock as the Avengers sang a horrible rendition of happy birthday while Aiden simply stood there, stunned.

Then, Hope pulled something out of the trunk; it was a huge poster of her face with all of their signatures and a giant “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” text written across it.

They all pulled her into a massive group hug, and as Aiden was trying to pull away, she heard her name being called.

Turning, she saw MJ, Flash, and Ned sprinting towards her, all of them holding a bag or a gift box in their hands.

Aiden ran to meet them halfway and pulled Flash into a hug first. Then she punched him. Hard.

“And how did you guys know?!” She exclaimed. MJ pointed at someone behind Aiden.

“Him,” she said simply. Turning, Aiden saw Peter standing there shyly. She ran at him and jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“This is the best birthday ever!” She murmured in his ear, then, in front of everyone, gave him a passionate kiss on the lips.

Everyone cheered, and Flash gave him a If you hurt her I will murder you look. Aiden was too distracted to notice that Steve had walked up next to her; he pulled her into a tight side hug and handed her his present. One by one, the rest of the group came up and handed her presents. By the time they were done, her arms were full and, honestly, Aiden couldn’t be happier that her family wasn’t here on her birthday.

With that, the bell rang for school, and the Avengers all waved goodbye as Aiden walked up the stairs and into the building, surrounded by the people she loved.

The rest of the day was amazing; Peter was constantly at her side, proudly showing her off, while Flash glared at any boy who even dared to look at her (including Peter). MJ was buzzing with excitement, which was quite unusual for her, and Ned talked everyone’s ear off.

At lunch, Flash pulled Peter off to the side to “have a little chit chat,” in his words. When they came back, Flash was grinning from ear to ear and Peter looked like he had just seen a ghost. When Aiden saw this, she kicked Flash in the shin.

“What did you do to him?” She whispered furiously.

He just smiled at her and shook his head. Aiden opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when her phone started ringing. Pulling it out, she saw that the caller ID said “Tony Stark”.

Smiling, she picked up and put it on speaker phone, saying, “Hi Tony! By the way, you’re on speaker phone so please don’t embarrass me.” Her table fell silent as everyone’s eyes widened.

“Uh, I think it’s a little late for that,” he said, the voice a little muffled.

Aiden frowned, and started to say, “What do you mea-,” when she was cut off by the sound of the cafeteria door opening and everyone falling silent. Turning around, she saw the one and only Tony Stark flying towards her in his Iron Man suit. Stopping right in front of her table, the front half of his suit dissolved and he stepped out, leaving the suit to hover behind him.

Tony smiled and held out his arms as Aiden rushed towards him. He bent down a little to squeeze her, causing her to laugh and look up at him. He grinned down at her, then climbed up onto her table, looking around at everyone.

“As I’m sure all of you know, I’m Tony Stark. And this here,” he points at Aiden, “is quite literally someone who I consider to be my daughter. So, you all be nice to her and wish her a happy birthday, or else. Have a good day!” With that, he stepped down from the table. When the cafeteria stayed quiet, he frowned. “Continue on with your conversations, come on!” Slowly, the volume rose to its normal rate and people started talking to each other again. Tony leaned down to whisper in Aiden’s ear, “Your present will be at the tower after school.” He leaned down and hugged her, kissing the top of her head. Walking away, he stopped and turned as if remembering something.

Pointing to their small group, Tony said, “All of you are invited to the Avengers Tower today after school with Aiden and Peter. Don’t be late!” With that, he climbed back into his suit and flew out the doors.

Turning back to her friends, Aiden looked at how all of them were processing. Flash looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out and eyes wide. MJ just grinned stupidly, and Aiden could already see the gears turning in her head of what inventions she was going to look at. Ned just sat there with his mouth hanging open, lunch long forgotten. As for Peter, he wrapped Aiden in an embrace and nuzzled into her neck, kissing it softly.

Aiden laughed and squirmed as he started to tickle her sides, trying to push him away. MJ snickered at them, and even Flash managed a grin.

For the rest of the day, Aiden kept getting birthday wishes from the most random people in her classes, even teachers. By the end of her last class, all she wanted was to go and be with her family. They might not be related, but the Avengers and her friends meant everything to her.

She practically ran out of her last period to find MJ, Peter, Ned, and Flash standing there, waiting. She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry for being late guys!” She said, and they all just shook their heads, laughing.

Aiden looked up to see Happy pulling up in front of the school, and she pointed to the car. “Come on guys, let’s go!” She exclaimed, and they all walked over to where Happy was waiting.

30 minutes later, they pulled up to the Avengers compound. Happy pulled out his pass; for security measures, you needed a pass to let yourself and/or a group of people into the building. Peter had one but Aiden didn’t. Flash practically fell out of the car when he opened the door, he was so shocked. MJ looked like she was preparing for a debate with the way she was concentrating, and Ned was too busy freaking out to pay attention to anything else.

Walking into the building, Peter and Aiden immediately noticed Nat and Pepper standing in the lobby, waiting for them. They made a beeline to where they were standing, the other three trailing behind. Nat and Pepper immediately wrapped Aiden in a hug, then said hi to the others.

“Hey guys, I’m Natasha!” She waved at them and Aiden gave her a look.

“Nat, I think they know who you are,” she said, rolling her eyes. Nat laughed and shook her head. “Anyways, this is Flash, MJ, and Ned!” Aiden pointed to each of them, and Pepper and Nat nodded at them.

Pepper started to walk them to the elevator, giving them a tour of the tower. Aiden grinned at how fascinated everyone was; MJ was asking questions at the speed of light, and poor Pepper couldn’t seem to keep up. Then, they reached the common floor, where everyone was waiting to see the group.

Once they stepped out of the elevator, everyone rose to greet them. Peter and Aiden introduced their friends, and everyone got acquainted.

Tony clapped his hands together, getting everyone’s attention. “This is cute and all, but I really need to show Aiden her birthday present. Follow me!” He set off towards the elevator, and everyone climbed in. Tony pressed the button to a level that Aiden had never been to before; it was right above Wanda’s floor.

The doors opened, and there was a huge happy birthday banner spread across the fireplace mantle of the living room. Looking around, Aiden realized it was a residential floor, which meant it belonged to someone.

The puzzle pieces started fitting together in her mind and she whirled around to stare at Tony.

“You didn’t!” She gasped.

He grinned. “Oh, but I did!” She rushed into his arms and gripped him tightly. He smiled and hugged her back. Peter just stared at them, confused.

“What happened?” He asked. Aiden broke away from the hug and grinned at him

“Petey… this is mine. This is my floor!” She exclaimed. He broke into a huge smile, then picked her up and spun her around. Bringing her to the ground, he peppered her face with kisses, making her laugh.

Tony broke them apart, and he led them to the master bedroom. Opening the door, he showed everyone Aiden’s room; it was amazing. There was a punching bag and treadmill on one side of a massive king sized bed. She had a large desk to do homework, and an advanced looking computer sitting on top of it. The room was painted a light baby blue, which she loved. But best of all, there was a small key card sitting on top of the bed.

Walking over to it, Aiden picked it up and realized it was her very own pass to the compound. For the third time that day, she was moved to tears.

“Thank you so much!” She choked out, and they all moved in for a group hug.

Later that night, she had finally gotten around to opening all her presents. Peter had gotten her a small silver promise ring, along with a thin chain necklace that Aiden loved. Sam and Bucky had teamed up together and had gotten her new boxing gloves. Steve had gotten her a little Captain America shield plush toy, along with a small bracelet. Hope, Natasha, and Wanda had pitched in and got her a few weapons to learn to train with. Nat also gave her a ring that, when pressed, would turn into a metal glove that covered her hand, similar to Tony’s suit. It would have a repulsor as well. Bruce had gotten her a science book, while Rocket and Gamora had given her a small pocket knife. Peter (Quill) had gotten Aiden an old fashioned Walkman, along with some tracks to play on it. Drax and Mantis gave her a t-shirt that read “Kick names, take ass” (much to Aiden’s confusion), and Thor had given her a charm bracelet that had a little hammer on it. When pressed, it would send out a distress call to the Avengers, letting them know that she needed help.

Clint got Aiden her first bow and a few arrows to go with it, and of course Rhodey, Tony, and Pepper had teamed up for her own floor and pass.

It was safe to say that this was Aiden’s favorite birthday, and she couldn’t care less that her biological family wasn’t there.

a/n - first of all i would like to give a huge thank you to Sara, ILY!! Your advice and encouragement is incredible and always motivates me,, love you girlie!! Second, all of you are free to give me constructive criticism and advice! I won’t know how to improve without it <33. Third ,, i had to do a lil fluffy scene and i felt like this was perfect, and shows how Tony would be a dad yK okay bye hope you’re liking the story fellas

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resting-meme-face · 5 years

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Mini intro

Heya guys!

I noticed I’ve got a lot of new followers over night. Some of my dumb Doctor Who posts have been blowin’ up a bit, so I figgered I might introduce m’self since generally speaking I don’t have a lot about me on my blog.

First off, I’m bisexual and nonbinary, and my fiance is ace. So, if you’re a TERF or an A-phobe or any kind of exclusionist, kindly fuck off and don’t let the door hitya where the good lord splitya :D.

That also means I’m in a committed relationship, so while I’m not above thirst-posting or some smut fic shared amongst friends, we’re not gonna be anything *more* than friends.

Second off, I’m 30, and I know some of ya’ll are grossed out by that and prolly think it’s super old. That’s okay. If you don’t feel comfortable following me because you’re much younger, don’t worry, just unfollow.

I don’t tag the best. I tag spoilers for Doctor Who as #dw spoilers and spoilers for Steven Universe as #su spoilers (including Steven Universe: Future spoilers). I don’t tend to tag nsfw text, but I’ll tag NSFW pics. However, if there’s something you want me to tag, feel free to send me an Ask or a Message. I might miss a reply in the flow of things, so Ask or PMs are best.

You might be asking, “Why isn’t there a lot about you on your blog? Why don’t you got one of them #selfie tags?” Well, I teach college English. Would you like to find out your Freshman Comp teacher wrote weird Doctor Who smut on Tumblr and Ao3 about the Doctor ejaculating candy? Nah? Yeah, didn’t think so. So, if you wanna talk to me or whatever, Meme-face is fine to refer to me by.

I write a lot, I read a lot, and I love to talk to people about writing. Love beta-ing, and I’m good with idea generating. If you’re in one of my fandoms and wanna talk stupid shit, fucking go for it. No Steven/Gems please or Doctor/Rose. And no baby!fic.

You might be wondering, why am I typing like this? I work really hard on my online tone. It’s the #brand. Very important. I type how I want my conversating partners to hear me, and I’m extra as hell. Also, I’m from Texas, so like... You’re immediately thinking redneck, but I’m a filthy pinko commie, despite the fact that the clapping part in “Deep in the Heart of Texas” makes me tear up a little.

I’m ADHD as hell and I hyperfixate, so while right now the wind is blowing heavily Doctor Whomst’d’ve’s way, that might change. I’m absolute Doctor/Master trash in all available forms and flavors, and that and DW are pretty solid throughlines.

I’m friendly, and I love long pointless chats and absolute ramblings. Feel free to hmu if you like wanna shoot the shit. Legit also, if you just wanna send me posts of cute animals or hilarious Doctor Who bullshit or memes, that’s fucking awesome too. Some of my relationships are just sharing posts.

Check out my fanfic on AO3 if you wanna. I have a tag here too, but like, idk. I love posting tag meta and some real meta, too. And I love fandom and non-fandom shitposts and memes.

I got 3 WIPs atm, so you have that to look forward to. I guess. But my ability to finish fanfic is as good as my ability to finish anything, which is to say, very bad, so we’ll see how the wind’s gon’ blow.

Anyway, see ya’ll.

#about me

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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forever is composed of nows (trixya) 2/2 - beanierose

(part one)

AN: This monstrosity of a chapter would not exist without my amazing betas nadia and meggie, as well as the wonderful cheer squad that is conny, shea and mia. Thank you all so much for listening to my nonsensical ramblings at all hours of the day and night.

(read on a03) | (find me at katiehoughton)

It’s a soulmate AU where you feel the opposite emotion to whatever the other person is feeling | 15,497 words

It feels a little like they exist outside of time. It’s still early, and the street below is quiet. Katya has her kitchen window open; she leaves it that way all summer, even though Mama tuts and frets. She likes the smell of the morning, likes feeling like she’s the only one awake in the whole world.

She isn’t. Trixie is here. She extracts herself from Katya’s arms but stays close, her body warm and good next to Katya’s. She swipes at her cheeks with the pads of her fingers and huffs a self-conscious little laugh. Katya likes her so much.

There’s a box of tissues on the countertop and Trixie pats delicately at her face like she’s forgotten she’s not wearing makeup and is trying to preserve her mascara.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m not really a crier. I don’t know why I can’t stop today.”

Katya snorts. “I am. The drama of it all? I love it.”

It makes Trixie laugh. Making Trixie laugh is her new most favourite thing to do. Katya wants, so badly, but everything is tentative. She’s not looking to freak Trixie out here. She turns away from her and busies herself with the kettle, setting it on the burner to boil. A tingling hyperawareness of Trixie travels up her spine and along her arms, into her fingertips.

She’s right there. It’s so surreal. She’s waited her whole life to find her sestrinskoye serdste and now she’s here in Katya’s kitchen like they do this every Saturday. Trixie is rummaging in the refrigerator and singing something under her breath.

“Breakfast?” She pops back out to look at Katya around the door.

“I’m teaching a class in about an hour. I don’t like to eat till after.” Trixie wrinkles her nose at that. She’s holding a carton of eggs in both hands, cradling it against her stomach protectively. Katya wants to let her do whatever she likes. Is going to let her. “But we could go out? When I’m done.”

Trixie nods, a few more times than is strictly necessary. She puts the carton of eggs back and closes the door, leans against it. Every time Katya looks at her, it feels like the first time. The light makes Trixie’s lashes and her eyebrow hairs look extra blonde. She has a dimple in her left cheek when she smiles.

And Katya feels, clearer now than she ever has, the tenderness that Trixie has towards her. It’s making her punch-drunk, a bit lightheaded. The kettle starts whistling and she’s glad to busy herself. Trixie works right beside her, slicing up a lemon into segments. The way her wrists move and the delicate grip of her fingers around the knife makes Katya wonder whether she plays piano as well as guitar.

She’s so femme. Not that Katya is at all that butch, but Trixie is something else. Her ponytail is held up with a pink scrunchie and she’s wearing a white mini dress with a pink denim jacket on top. Katya wants to undress her, wants to look at her soft stomach and her thick thighs, but she also doesn’t really want to deconstruct this carefully cultivated look.

“Do you have a container? Usually I like to freeze them.”

Trixie is going to leave things in Katya’s freezer. Trixie is going to come back here, lots and lots of times. She waits patiently for Katya to absorb that information, her face totally smooth and free of uncertainty.

“Um. Yeah. Sure.” She digs around in the cabinet for a Tupperware and hands it to Trixie over her shoulder, not looking.

She takes it. She takes it, and her other hand touches the back of Katya’s head. It’s so quick, could have been an accident, but Katya feels Trixie’s intention behind the wall of her own chest. Trixie wants to touch her.

“I’m gonna go right ahead and slice them all up.”

Katya leans back against the countertop and rests her hands either side of her hips. She knows it makes the muscles in her arms flex, makes her tattoos shift, and she catches Trixie looking. Ever since she met Trixie she’s felt off-kilter, like she has to tread carefully so she doesn’t lose her balance. It’s not really her.

She’s a top, thank you very much.

“That’s very presumptuous, Miss Mattel.” She lifts one eyebrow, sees the two lovely spots of colour that appear in the apples of Trixie’s cheeks, is thrilled by that.

For a second she wonders whether Trixie will be flustered. Instead she puts the knife down - right, oops - and narrows her eyes at Katya. “We are literally soulmates, you dumb slut.”

It’s the first time that either of them has said it so plainly, and it takes them both by surprise. Trixie’s gaze immediately lowers and Katya sucks in a sharp breath through her teeth. She likes the way that sounds, would like to hear Trixie tell it to everyone she knows. Katya wants to lean out of the open kitchen window and call down to the people beginning to fill the street below.

“We sure are.” She grins, waits for Trixie to smile back at her. “I gotta get ready for work. Make yourself at home. Fill up my freezer with whatever you want.”

She leaves Trixie in the kitchen, carving her bag of lemons into neat and even segments. Katya’s outfits for teaching vary quite wildly. It depends on how lazy she’s feeling and how on top of her laundry she’s been that week. She just did some, so she picks out her favourite red unitard. It has little eyes embroidered around the bottom of the legs and the built in sports bra makes her tits look bigger than they actually are.

She winds her hair into two braids to keep it out of her face during class, even though her bangs are in her eyes again so she’s still going to end up cranky and sweaty. Maybe Trixie will trim them for her later. Katya puts on some more deodorant, sprays some perfume as well. She’s primping now, and it’s not for her students.

When Katya comes out of her bedroom and Trixie catches sight of her, she drops the knife into the sink. It clatters loudly, and the water is still running, but Katya hears the strangled little noise that Trixie makes. She doesn’t say anything, but Katya doesn’t need her to. She can feel it. The knot of desire tightening in Trixie’s stomach, the frantic pounding of her heart, the rush of blood into all of her extremities.

“You’re so- I just want-”

Trixie holds her wet hands out in front of her like she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She’s cleaned the kitchen while Katya was changing, and she’s poured Katya’s tea in a travel mug for her to take to the studio.

Katya wants, too. She does. She’d like to call in sick to work today and take Trixie to bed. But they’ve only known each other for a handful of hours, and if this is going to be forever…she’s not looking to rush things. They deserve more.

“You like it?” Katya turns around to let Trixie see the back of her outfit. Her ass is nothing spectacular compared to Trixie’s, but it’s toned and round and she enjoys showing it off.

She turns back around, and Trixie is blushing again. Still. “I like it very much. You look really hot.”

“Thanks. I gotta leave now, but you can hang out here and I’ll see you when I’m back?”

“No, I’m gonna go back to my hotel,” Trixie says. Katya tries very hard not to let it show on her face, and then remembers that Trixie can feel the disappointment that has just reared its head in her stomach. She comes hastily around the kitchen island to take Katya’s hands in both of hers. “To freshen up. I’ll meet you someplace.”

She feels childlike with wonder. Trixie’s fingers are warm, not so slender and bony as Katya’s, and her thumbs are making absent-minded circles over the backs of Katya’s hands.

“Oh. Okay. Yeah.”

“I want to spend the whole day with you. If that’s alright.”

Trixie is just as tentative as Katya is. She can feel her own heartbeat and feel Trixie’s too, ever so slightly out of sync. Neither of them knows what they’re doing here, not really. Katya had asked her last night if she knows many other soulbound people and she said she doesn’t think so, but since she’s never told anybody before it’s not something that really comes up.

In her nearly forty years on the planet, Katya has only met three soulbound couples. She knows plenty of people who haven’t found their sestrinskoye serdste yet; up until yesterday they’ve been the only people she has who really know how hard it is. But only three who have actually made it work. There were the Sullivans that she grew up watching not at all discretely every Sunday at church. Her friend from college, Brooke, who just last year got married to Vanessa. And her colleague Raja who used to talk non-stop about Raven, her wife.

Three couples is not many, not nearly enough that Katya can hazard a guess as to how this is supposed to go. And anyway, Brooke’s the only one she’s close enough to that she felt comfortable asking what it was like. With Brooke and Vanessa everything happened so quickly, like a flash flood. Katya isn’t sure if it’s because they’re soulbound, or because they’re lesbians.

“I want to spend the day with you too, Trixie.” She still enjoys the sound of her name very much. It feels like an incantation, like if she says it enough times everything between them will go smoothly.

And, well, she’s been waiting thirty years to put a name to her sestrinskoye serdste. When she was younger she used to try and imagine what it could be, would sometimes name them inside of her head just to see what it felt like. Trixie never crossed her mind.

Not just her name. Everything about her.

“I’ll walk you to work?”

Katya agrees to that. She can’t imagine not agreeing to anything that Trixie suggests. She has her gym bag with everything she needs for work slung over her shoulder. It keeps slipping down so she has to hold on to it, but she still has a hand free to hold Trixie’s. They’re clasped loosely so that they can walk, and she likes how warm Trixie’s palm is and the way that their knotted hands will sometimes bump her hip, sometimes Trixie’s.

At the door of the yoga studio, Katya takes her travel mug of tea back from Trixie. Everything this morning has been so achingly domestic. She likes the way Trixie looks in her space. Katya isn’t usually one for sharing her apartment. She loves having friends over, but loves equally when they leave again at the end of the night. It isn’t like that with Trixie. She wants her there again, as many times as Trixie would like.

She has trouble focusing during class. Her students can definitely tell. Usually, she is completely committed to their growth, making sure to divide her attention evenly between all of them. One of her regulars is still having a bit of trouble with her salabhasana and Katya kneels beside her and helps guide her into it, but she’s thinking about Trixie. Kneeling beside Trixie, putting her hands on Trixie.

It takes her until the class is almost over to realize that part of the reason is because Trixie is thinking about her. Trixie is back at her hotel, freshening up — Katya can’t fathom how she could possibly look more like a perfect paper doll cut neatly from a magazine — and thinking about her. And she can feel it, and she can’t focus on much more than the heat between her thighs.

When class is over and Katya checks her phone, she has a text from Trixie. Her head snaps up and sure enough, Trixie is right across the street leaning against the edifice of the laundrette. She has her phone in both hands, her head bent over it. Katya watches her for a second. She wonders if other people are watching her too and wondering who she is. Katya likes the idea of that, of getting to walk outside and greet Trixie and maybe some of those other people will see them and be jealous.

A couple of her students are waiting behind to ask her questions. She’s patient with them, because she feels good after an hour of practice and because she likes them. They’re enthusiastic and willing to learn and she appreciates it. She feels eyes on her and when she sneaks a glance Trixie has put her phone away and is watching.

Outside in the sunshine, Katya gets to hug Trixie hello. She’s let her hair down and it falls in soft curls all across her shoulders and her back. She’s put makeup on, an intricate and graphic eye look and a pink lipstick and more blush than Katya has ever seen on a real person before.

“You know you don’t have to put makeup on for me.”

“It’s not for you,” Trixie shrieks, indignant, and swats at Katya. “It’s for me. I’m feeling my fantasy.”

Katya laughs at that and reaches for Trixie’s hand to hold. She can’t fathom not touching her. Not after how long they’ve waited, how much they’ve hurt. Trixie has sunglasses on top of her head and she puts them on, looks at Katya through the pink circle lenses.

“You’re beautiful either way,” Katya says. She doesn’t mean it to come out with quite so much tenderness, but the way Trixie chews on her bottom lip is worth it.

Just like Trixie suggested, they spend the whole day together. Trixie’s been to Boston a couple of times before but hasn’t seen much of the city, so Katya gets to show her around. Trixie is sweet and enthusiastic, tethered to the end of Katya’s arm. She has something to say about every single thing Katya points out to her. She overflows with opinions and anecdotes, and Katya wants to collect each one like a pearl and thread them all together.

Things between them are so easy. And it’s not just the soulbound thing. Katya is sure after only a day that even if Trixie wasn’t her sestrinskoye serdste, they would still be friends. They have the same sense of humour. Trixie keeps up with Katya’s tangents in a way that not many other people are able to. They laugh all day long.

Trixie likes to take pictures. She takes pictures of Katya and pictures of both of them and pictures of the duckling sculpture in the public garden. When they stop for lunch, Trixie posts a few to her Instagram story. She’s tagged Katya in one of them. It’s a photograph of her, head turned so she’s almost in profile. Trixie’s put a few gifs of hearts around Katya’s head like she’s a cartoon, all lovestruck.

“You kind of have a lot of followers on here,” Katya says. She’s not really sure how to feel about that. Thousands of people are going to see her in Trixie’s story and wonder about her.

Trixie sets her fork down and looks at Katya across the table. “Katya. I’m already sort of famous, and that’s only going to keep growing. Or I hope so, at least.”

“It will,” Katya hurries to reassure Trixie. She believes in herself so much that Katya knows it’s going to happen for her.

“If that’s gonna be a problem for you,” Trixie trails off, waves her now empty hand in the air.

Katya does Trixie the courtesy of really thinking about her answer before she says anything. Just because they’re soulbound doesn’t mean they won’t still have to compromise and work at things.

“It isn’t a problem. I’m really proud of you.”

She can sacrifice a little of her privacy if it means that she gets to be a part of Trixie’s private world. Trixie is smiling into her salad. Beneath the table, she slides her foot forward until it nudges in between both of Katya’s.

“Obviously. I’m incredible.” She fans herself with one hand and makes a little moaning sound and Katya feels it like a hand around her throat, has to press her thighs together even as she laughs.

They head back out into the warmth of Boston in the summertime. Katya sweats even in her unitard, which professes to wick moisture away from the skin. She didn’t bring sunglasses with her and she has to shade shadesher eyes with her hand so that she can even see Trixie.

“Here,” Trixie says. She hands Katya the carton of cigarettes she’s been carrying around all day in her little clear plastic backpack.

Katya didn’t want to carry her duffel around with her all day, so she left it at the yoga studio. They’ll swing by later to get it, but for now Trixie is carrying Katya’s phone and keys and wallet and her cigarettes. It’s so domestic that it aches physically in her chest.

Katya fishes a cigarette out of the pack and lights it, hands everything back to Trixie to put away. She inhales deeply, holds the smoke in her mouth for as long as she can before she has to exhale.

“You keep doing that.”

“Hmm?” Trixie turns to look at her. Her sunglasses are so huge that Katya can’t see much of her face, but she gets the idea. “Doing what?”

Katya takes another drag. “Handing me cigarettes before I even ask.”

She’s done it three or four times so far today. It’s cute, she likes it very very much. And likes too that Trixie doesn’t seem to mind Katya smoking, even though she really shouldn’t be enabled and she’s going to quit soon, she is.

“Oh,” Trixie laughs. “Yeah. I can feel when you need one. I’m craving them too, you bitch.”

Katya stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk, just exactly how she always hates when tourists do. Trixie takes hold of her elbow and draws her to the side so that they’re both leaning against the warm brick of the building beside them.

“You can feel that?”

“Yeah. I can feel pretty much everything.” Katya opens her mouth to apologise, because God knows even she can barely deal with how much she feels sometimes, but Trixie cuts in. “I like it. I like being soulbound to you, Katya.”

It wipes her out. Katya presses the back of her hand to her forehead and closes her eyes. She’s still holding her half-smoked cigarette and she stubs it out against the wall.

When she opens her eyes again Trixie is watching her. She doesn’t look nervous. And that’s probably because she already knows, before Katya speaks.

“I like being soulbound to you as well. A lot. I can’t believe you’re real.”

Trixie takes her hand, now that it’s free. She’s been doing that a lot, all morning. Reaching for Katya, wanting to be near her. It’s sweet, and it’s good, because Katya wants to be near Trixie every day from now on.

“I’m real. You are, too.” She squeezes Katya’s fingers as if to ground her. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Katya says, and finds that she means it.

It takes her the better part of an hour to plan out in her head how to ask Trixie to come up to her apartment. Spending the whole day together has been wonderful, and Katya wants Trixie to spend the night, too.

Not for sex. They’re not going to have sex today, she’s pretty sure. Trixie deserves better than for Katya to shove her up against the front door the second that they get inside, even though it’s all she’s been able to think about for most of the afternoon.

At the door to the building, Katya opens her mouth, but Trixie gets there first. “Can I come up? I don’t wanna say goodbye to you.”

Trixie’s anxious to ask; Katya feels her heart fluttering in her own throat. Both of them are swinging wildly between ease and awkwardness.

“Yes. Yeah, God. Come up.”

Each time Trixie is in Katya’s apartment — this is the third, already, wow — she seems more at home than the last. Katya’s been wearing her unitard out and about around the city all day. Trixie had asked her whether she wanted to change and she had levelled her with a look, had done a little pirouette right where she stood to prove to Trixie that she’s comfortable in her skin.

She leaves Trixie to go shower. And yeah, she hurries, and maybe she gets her makeup remover in her eye and curses loudly up into the stream of the water. She debates, once she’s out. Part of her wants to put on something cute, but she’s tired and she wants to be comfortable. She iscomfortable, around Trixie.

Katya pulls on a pair of gym shorts that she’s had for so long the material has started to go bobbly, and an oversized tee that hangs off one shoulder. Back out in the living room, Trixie has settled herself on the couch and is scrolling through Netflix.

“You look so cute,” she says when she sees Katya.

Her heart grows wings, soars up into her throat. Trixie thinks that she’s cute. Trixie is patting the seat cushion next to her and looking at Katya expectantly.

Inviting Katya onto her own couch. It shouldn’t be hot, shouldn’t send another rush of want through Katya’s stomach and thighs.

She leaves a respectable distance between them when she sits down, and Trixie huffs and shunts over until their legs are touching. Hers are bare too, her dress riding up, and she’s taken off her jacket.

“Do you know what this is?” Trixie gestures at the screen with the remote.

“Do you think I’m some kind of crazy bitch? I’m not that old, I know what Friends is.”

Trixie laughs and dumps the remote on the coffee table. It’s stained with rings from all of the mugs Katya likes to set down carelessly, and one of the legs has a dent she doesn’t even remember putting there. She can’t imagine anything in Trixie’s apartment is less than pristine, but she doesn’t seem to care at all.

“White people problems,” she says in a nasal valley-girl voice that makes Katya wince and hide her face against Trixie’s shoulder.

The sound isn’t even on, she’s got it muted with subtitles, but that’s good. It’s good. It means they can talk. And they do.

Katya has known Trixie as a whole, for all of her life, but she is still not certain about all of the different pieces. And that’s alright. There’s forever to learn.

Last night was hard and lonesome; her body hurts. After an episode and a half, Katya lays herself down right in Trixie’s lap. It’s something she does all the time with friends, but there’s a different sort of intimacy to it tonight.

Trixie’s hand comes to her hair right away and her fingers sift through the knots and tangles. She’s so gentle. When she’s finished, she leaves her wide warm palm at Katya’s cheekbone and her thumb makes slow arcs back and forth.

Katya closes her eyes and allows herself to drift slowly in and out of consciousness. Trixie is above her, smelling so good and still petting Katya’s hair. She talks for a little while longer, but Katya is listening more to the intonation of her voice than the words themselves. Her mumbled, lazy noises in response get more spread out and eventually she gives up altogether.

Trixie is behind her when she wakes up again properly, laying down on the couch. Her arm circles Katya’s middle so that they don’t both roll off, and Katya is delighted to find her there. She’s awake too, Katya feels her awareness like a third presence in the room.

She rolls over, careful not to dislodge Trixie’s arm. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep a lot last night.”

“It’s strange,” Trixie says, and there’s a note of wonder in her voice. “When you’re sleeping. It’s like, this absolute calm. I felt so good, just now.”

I want to make you feel so good, Katya thinks, but does not say. She met Trixie yesterday. And, as much as it aches low down in her gut, she’s enjoying the anticipation too much to give in just yet.

“Do you want to come to bed? The couch isn’t so comfortable.”

“I can’t,” Trixie sighs. Her eyeliner has gotten a little smudged and her lipstick has worn away in the middle. It’s a different Trixie, her first time meeting this version of her, and she likes her just as much as all of the others. “I have to get on the bus at six.”

She sits up, and Katya lets her because she isn’t sure what else to do. They’ve only had this one day and it is so unfair of the universe. To drop Trixie right in her lap and then take her away again just as quickly is cruel and barbed and makes it so that her breath catches in her throat.

“Tour bus?”

“No. I’m not that successful yet. An actual bus.”

Katya likes that. How she says yet, how she believes in herself so unwaveringly. She hopes that Trixie will grow to believe in Katya like that, and in them both together.

“I can’t believe you have to leave already.”

“I know.”

Katya is still in Trixie’s lap and she looks up at her. It’s not a flattering angle, shouldn’t be cute, but Katya likes the smooth column of Trixie’s neck and her round chin.

She sits up, because Trixie’s thighs are warm and soft and right there. It would be so easy to turn her head just a little and open her mouth against Trixie’s skin. Katya feels a bit spaced out from her nap. When she settles upright her brain takes a second to catch up and she closes her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose.

Gentle fingers at her shoulder make her open her eyes again. She’s not startled by it. It seems as if she will never be startled by Trixie, and Trixie won’t be by her either, because she is as aware of Trixie as she is of her own hands.

“I should go,” Trixie says, and does not move.

She’s got her elbow propped against the back of the couch, her head resting in the cup of her palm. And she’s looking at Katya, and her face is smooth and patient and gentle. Her hair is a little funky in the back from lying on the couch and her makeup is coming away so that Katya can see her pink nose and cheeks.

It’s lovely. Trixie’s lovely.

“You should go,” Katya agrees.

They both know that when Trixie leaves here, they’re not going to get to see each other for weeks. She’s got several more dates of her tour, and then she has to go back to Los Angeles for a bunch of meetings with her producer.

After that’s done, she told Katya that she’ll fly back to Boston and spend some more time with her. Real time, time that can be just theirs. It’s too far away though, and Katya can’t fathom one single day without Trixie now that she knows her.

Trixie’s phone vibrates with a text from Bob. She wrinkles her nose and reads it aloud to Katya. It’s a very graphic description of what Bob is going to do to Trixie if she misses her bus in the morning.

“Go, honey,” Katya says gently. She doesn’t really mean for the hypocorism to escape her, but Trixie blushes immediately and gets this open-mouthed, startled look. “You need to get some sleep.”

Instead of getting up, Trixie tips forwards on the couch until her face is hidden against Katya’s shoulder. She brings her hand up to cup the back of Trixie’s head, touches her thumb to the shell of Trixie’s ear.

“I don’t wanna leave you.” She’s a little petulant, a little bratty, but it’s because she doesn’t want to say goodbye to Katya so it’s just about the most endearing thing she’s ever heard.

This middle of the night tenderness is making Katya brave. She lets her lips brush the crown of Trixie’s head and lingers there for a little while. “I don’t want you to leave me, either. I really don’t. But you’ll be miserable in the morning.”

“I’ll be miserable in the morning anyway,” Trixie says, and sits up. She blinks at Katya. “I can’t believe we only get one day.”

She looks a little teary again. Their twin sadnesses live inside of Katya’s chest, one red and one blue and just slightly offset so that she can hardly breathe around the three dimensional ache of it.

“We don’t just get one day. We’ll see each other soon, honey.”

Trixie nods and bites her bottom lip like she’s trying not to cry. She gets up from the couch and collects her jacket and her backpack, puts her pristine white sneakers back on. She lets Katya walk her all the way down to the lobby and they wait together for her Uber.

They’re holding hands again. Katya’s not wearing any shoes or a bra and Trixie looks like she’s just been released from her twist ties and lifted from her packaging. They must make an insane pair, but it’s nearly one in the morning so Katya doubts anybody’s going to judge them for it.

When the car pulls up Trixie lets out a strangled little noise. She turns to Katya and wraps both arms around her waist, presses her face to Katya’s neck. She has to bend to do it, because she’s several inches taller, and Katya likes the arc of her spine.

“I’ll see you soon, baby. It’s gonna be okay.” She gentles Trixie with her fingers through her hair.

Trixie straightens again and she’s not crying but her eyes are pink and she’s blinking much more than usual. She reminds Katya of a bunny with her soft hair and her big eyes and her little sniffles.

She steps out of the building and greets her Uber driver, slides into the back of the car. Her face is turned towards the window and she flutters her fingers at Katya in a little wave.

Katya turns around to head back upstairs, because she doesn’t want to watch Trixie drive away from her. In her apartment she brushes her teeth and turns out all the lights and flops right into bed. She has both arms around her other pillow and she cradles it to her chest, gives it warm soft skin and thick thighs and hair that smells like juniper berry and lavender.

Her phone is plugged in on the nightstand (she’s proud of herself for remembering) and it buzzes with a message notification. She rolls over and opens one eye to peer at it, the screen too bright even though it’s turned all the way down.

today was one of the most fun days of my whole life, Trixie has sent her. While she’s looking at their conversation, another text comes through. i’m so happy I found you.

Katya still only has one eye open. Her heart is molten and pouring down to pool in the pit of her stomach. She types awkwardly with one finger.

im happy i found u too u rotted skank bitch from hell

go to sleep now, mother

She chases her messages with a whole string of the heart emojis Trixie likes so much. She’s out just that quickly, before Trixie’s reply even comes through, and she sleeps better than she has in weeks.

Texting Trixie becomes a part of Katya’s day right away. She’s not usually big on messaging people, prefers to see them face to face or at least call if that isn’t an option, but she likes it. She likes feeling her phone buzz and seeing the notification and thinking of Trixie.

Sometimes it’s intermittent. They’re both busy, and on separate schedules. Katya wakes up in the mornings to a bunch of messages from Trixie detailing how the show went that night, and she replies for Trixie to see when she wakes up in four or five hours. They call and FaceTime too, but it’s harder to make time for that.

Katya is sitting at the tiny dining table she has crammed in next to the window, working on a bowl of cereal and trying hard to ignore her phone. She’s taught two classes already this morning, back to back early ones, and she’s starving.

good morning baby

She hasn’t sent anything else yet, because she wants to really talk to Trixie. Katya stirs her spoon around and around in her mostly empty bowl. She has her chin propped in her other hand and she gazes out of the window, watches a man across the street setting up to paint a storefront.

Two weeks today, since she met Trixie. It feels like forever ago, and like Trixie was here just last night. She worries at her phone, pulls the case off the corner and back on over and over, and wonders whether Trixie is awake.

She isn’t, Katya is pretty sure. She thinks a lot about waking up and rolling over to look at Trixie, the awe in her voice when she told Katya how good it was to watch her sleep. She can usually pinpoint the exact moment Trixie wakes up because she gets a little flare of awareness in her chest and then less than a minute later her phone vibrates with a new text.

Katya has a Russian class to teach tonight. She busies herself with her lesson plan. This despondent version of her that spends all day squirming around the hook in her guts is someone she doesn’t know and doesn’t particularly like.

She likes Trixie. Likes her very much. But she has to go on with her life. She can’t sit around like it’s 1860 and she’s waiting for her lover to return to the homestead, even if the idea of putting on a prairie dress and sighing dramatically is extremely appealing.

Katya’s phone vibrates and she hurries over to it on the kitchen counter, props her forearms either side of it so she can lean down.

morning gorgeous, Trixie has sent. Heat rushes into her cheeks. Last week, Trixie requested that Katya send her a selfie because she wanted to set it as her phone wallpaper, and when she did Trixie had sent her about forty fire emojis in a row and told her she’s beautiful, a model, she looks like Linda Evangelista.

Katya watches the three dots flickering in the grey bubble and thinks about Trixie touching the screen of her own phone a few hundred miles away.

how’s your morning been??

Katya starts typing, and then thinks better of it. She calls Trixie instead, tries to stifle her grin against her palm when she picks up on the first ring.

“That bad?” Trixie says.

Katya taps the button to put Trixie on speaker. She likes this the best — having Trixie to talk to while she does things. “No. It’s been good actually. How are you?”

“I’ve been awake for about four seconds. Please don’t grill me during this very difficult time.”

“Sorry honey,” Katya laughs. She starts running water to fill the sink; there’s a few days’ worth of dishes piled up that she should really take care of.

Trixie is still talking, telling Katya about the show last night and how amazing the crowd had been. She sounds like she’s laying down still, her voice all soft and breathy. Katya aches to know for sure, to lie next to Trixie in the mornings and see her all sleep-rumpled and cute.

“Stop it, Katya,” Trixie says gently. “I can feel you making yourself sad. Only two more weeks of tour. We can do it.”

Katya is up to her elbows in suds, fumbling gracelessly with her plates and bowls because she can never figure out why her dish soap makes everything so slippery.

“I don’t want to do it.” She says it like it’s a secret, even though she doesn’t really have those from Trixie. “I miss you.”

She does. She misses Trixie so much that it hurts, which makes no sense. They had a day and a half together, that’s all. Last week Katya called Brooke at three in the morning (which is only two in Nashville, so whatever) to ask whether it ever stops being like this.

Brooke said that she and Vanessa have only spent at most three days apart in a row since they met. That when they first met, when it was new, they were not out of each other’s company for more than an hour at a time for weeks and weeks.

It wasn’t particularly helpful.

“I know, babe. I miss you too. But I’ve been trying to think of it like this: I get to have you with me always. Tons of couples do long distance and have to snatch moments wherever they can, but I get to feel you every minute of the day.”

Katya is standing still as a river stone, Trixie’s words sliding smoothly around and over her. Her ears are ringing. She swallows roughly once, and then a second time.

“Couples?” she finally manages to grit out.

“Oh God. Oh my God.”

Trixie sounds more like she’s talking to herself than to Katya, and it’s that that breaks her open. She laughs, too loud in her small apartment, and pulls her hands out of the sink. Katya dries them and takes her phone off of speaker so she can press it to her ear again. It feels more intimate; she likes to hear Trixie right there.

“Don’t freak out on me now, Trixie. You said it.”

She gets a long sigh, and she feels Trixie’s trembling shock at her own self. “Yeah. I did. I want to be a couple. With you. You awful crone.”

“I want to be a couple with you, too. God knows why; you’re so mean to me.”

It makes Trixie laugh, and Katya is laughing too, and it doesn’t ache quite so terribly anymore. This is a temporary predicament, and she still gets to talk to Trixie all the time, and it’s going to be okay.

“Katya,” Trixie says, right as a wave of longing crests up from the pit of Katya’s stomach into her throat. “I wish I was there. I wanna touch you so bad.”

“Yeah. Me too. Listen, I uh- I gotta go. I’ll catch you later. Bye.” She hangs up before Trixie can protest and bows over the counter, head in her hands.

A couple of times when they’ve talked on the phone, Trixie has done this. All of the breath support comes out of her voice. She talks about want, and Katya hears rustling on the other end of the line and has to close her eyes.

It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk Trixie off. Of course she does. But not for their first time. It’s romantic, which is not like her, but something about Trixie makes Katya want to be chivalrous.

She tries to busy herself cleaning the kitchen, but her thighs are trembling and there’s an ache between them that she’s struggling to ignore. It starts ramping up and Katya closes her eyes and breathes raggedly through her mouth.

And then it dawns on her.

Katya fumbles for her phone and types quickly, doesn’t give herself the time to think over whether this is a good decision.

beatrice mattel!!!!!

i know what ur doing

can u pls not im trying to live my life

Her nipples are hard and rubbing uncomfortably against the fabric of her sports bra. Katya runs the faucet until it’s as cold as it’s going to get and pours herself a glass of water, downs two thirds of it in one go. It doesn’t help very much. Her knees buckle and she crashes against the cabinet, almost goes to the floor.

Katya reaches for her phone again. For a second she debates calling, forcing Trixie to respond, but she can’t listen to her while she’s like this.

trixie. please. dont.

Part of the reason she doesn’t enjoy texting so much is because she finds it hard to convey tone. Trixie teases her a lot about being older, but this is one area where she really feels it. Trixie wields punctuation and capitalisation and emojis like weapons to make clear just exactly what she means.

Katya still feels desperate and fragile, but the edge of it comes away and her phone vibrates.

sorry

didn’t mean to upset you

won’t happen again

She sighs and balls her hand into a fist, presses her knuckles to her forehead. Trixie is a bit of a brat, she’s entitled and she takes exactly what she wants. And Katya loves it, wouldn’t want her any other way.

im not upset

im horny

you cunt

Part of her wants to go to her knees on the kitchen tile and stuff three fingers inside of herself. She’s so close; it wouldn’t take a lot. But it feels indecent and she doesn’t want her own hand. She wants Trixie’s.

i know

i did it on purpose

since you won’t talk dirty to me

Oh, but she will. She will, she wants to, she is going to. Katya is not in the business of saying untrue things, or of not saying things that are true. She thinks there’s an important distinction there. She takes a deep breath and taps out her message.

trixie

i cant stop thinking about kissing you

The response comes through immediately. Katya imagines Trixie typing with her left hand, wiping her right clean against the sheets. Imagines her chest all flushed and her pupils blown wide and her thighs trembling.

why didn’t you then?????

i wanted you to

i was waiting

For a second Katya is affronted that it’s her responsibility. Trixie could have kissed her just as easily. But then she supposes Trixie hasn’t ever had to do that before, hasn’t needed to make the first move because everyone around her seems to give her exactly what she wants at all times.

trixie oh my god

the second youre here

This time Katya can’t blame her arousal on Trixie. She feels like every single hair on her body is standing on end. She moves for the bedroom, stripping her bra off over her head as she goes and leaving it dumped in the hallway. Her phone buzzes in her hand.

yeah?

Katya puts it down for just a second so she can pull her yoga pants and her underwear off. She climbs onto the mattress on her knees and sinks down, grinds against the sheets.

She wants to touch herself; she doesn’t want to stop talking to Trixie; she can’t call her.

yeah

i wanna kiss you for hours and hours

She pauses for a second, but it’s not like Trixie doesn’t already know. There’s no mystery when Trixie’s arousal pulses hot and insistent between Katya’s thighs.

and then i wanna taste you

and touch you

and hear you

god, trixie

im gonna fuck you so good

Katya turns her phone over then and puts it on the nightstand out of her way. She lets her right hand drift between her legs. She’s so wet that it’s all down her thighs, and as soon as she brushes her fingers over herself her hips buck sharply.

She rolls her left nipple — it’s a little more sensitive — between two fingers, and sets a rhythm of tight little circles over her clit. Already pleasure is tingling up the column of her spine and all across her scalp. She’s embarrassingly close, considering all she’s been doing is texting.

But she’s been texting Trixie. And Trixie’s been touching herself, has brought both of them right up to the edge. Katya’s going to be the one to tip them over.

Their first time is still going to be special. This doesn’t count. They’re both touching themselves and thinking of each other and it’s the hottest fucking thing that has happened to Katya in her whole life.

Katya slides a finger inside of herself and clenches around it so violently that all of the breath leaves her chest like a gut punch. She adds another and then a third, her hips rocking wildly and without rhythm so that she barely has to move her hand at all.

The circles she’s making over her clit are getting faster, and she’s so wet she can hardly get enough friction. Katya bites down hard on her bottom lip and curls her fingers and comes hard. Finds herself whispering Trixie’s name as she does.

And then just as she’s coming down another wave hits her and she realises. That was Trixie.

Katya flops onto her back on the mattress and throws an arm over her face. She feels more blissed out than she has in months, maybe years. Since she got sober. She laughs out loud into her empty apartment, and then her phone starts ringing.

“Did you just-?” Trixie says in lieu of hello.

“I sure did, mama. You?”

There’s a beat of silence and Katya imagines Trixie arching lazily in her hotel sheets. Not that she’s ever seen that. They’ve never even kissed, for God’s sake.

“Yeah. It was- really good.” Trixie’s voice is living room quiet, middle of the night tender.

Katya’s breathing is still a little faster than normal. It’s the middle of the day, which is indulgent and unusual for her. For Trixie this probably counts as morning sex.

Or, well- does it count as sex? If this were a normal situation, Katya would say not. But when she was touching herself she was thinking about making Trixie feel good, wondering whether Trixie could feel everything with the same intensity. Katya is fuzzy-skinned and plump like an overripe peach.

“If you’re gonna do that again, I need some warning. Can’t have you jerking off while I’m trying to teach a class.”

The laugh Trixie lets out at that is loud and long and caterwauling. It makes Katya laugh too and she rolls over onto her stomach, phone still held to her ear and getting a little sweaty now.

“I have to ask your permission to come now? What are you, my dad?”

Katya groans and hides her face in the pillow, but she’s already pretty desensitised to Trixie’s off-colour humour. Other parts of her are not so desensitised and she rolls her hips down into the mattress.

“You slut,” Trixie gasps right into her ear. “You’re not done?”

“I hate you so much.”

She can hear Trixie’s grin, the way her words arc around it. “Yeah. Hate you too. Can’t wait for you to sit on my face.”

“Fuck,” Katya says, and hangs up on Trixie again.

Her wrist hurts from the awkward angle she’s at but she’s close enough already, again, that it doesn’t matter. Katya rolls her hips down against her fingers and wishes Trixie were here. She wants to put her face between Trixie’s thighs, wants to feel her heels dig into her back. The thought of it is enough and she comes open-mouthed and silent, Trixie’s name caught in the back of her throat.

After that, things are different.

Trixie gets braver and brattier. She likes to tease, a lot. Sometimes Katya reciprocates, but mostly she shuts Trixie down. She always gets into a snit over it and refuses to text back even though Katya can feel how much Trixie misses her when they go more than an hour without talking.

There are four days left of Trixie’s tour. Four days until she’s back in Los Angeles. She has a lot to take care of once she’s home, so she told Katya she won’t be able to make it out to Boston for another few weeks.

That’s fine. It’s fine, because Katya got Trixie’s roommate’s phone number from Fame, and she’s going to LA.

The Russian class she teaches is on summer break now, and she’s taken a week of the vacation days she never usually uses from the yoga studio. She’s going to be there, when Trixie steps off her plane, and then they’re going to spend a whole week together.

It is an enormous effort not to think about it too much. If she gets excited, or anxious, Trixie is going to know and she’s not going to drop it. Katya has texted Kim a few times to arrange things. They’ve talked on the phone once and she had to sit on the floor in padmasana and breathe slowly through her nose and focus on absolute stillness so she didn’t clue Trixie in.

The night before Katya leaves for Los Angeles, she sits on the sill so that she can smoke out of the open window. It’s so hot in Boston that she’s only wearing her underwear. She’s got Spotify pulled up and her speaker playing from the kitchen, everything Trixie’s ever uploaded.

She’s performing right now. Katya closes her eyes and leans her head back against the wall. She thinks a lot about the first time she saw Trixie perform. If she was a little smarter she would have realised before they met that Trixie was her sestrinskoye serdste, because she suffered so badly watching Trixie get her life up on the stage.

Now, it’s like being high. She gets to feel Trixie’s euphoria, her pride in herself, the joy that buoys her to bounce around all over the place while she performs. It does worry her a little. She’s an addict; she can’t really be trusted with things that feel this good.

Sweat is collecting in all of Katya’s creases, her elbows and the backs of her knees, but she doesn’t want to move. This is the time that she feels the closest to Trixie. And she is so achingly proud of her she can hardly stand it. Tomorrow she will fly across the country. Trixie isn’t back until the day after, so Katya has an evening to acclimate to Trixie’s space and hope that she gets along okay with Kim.

It feels as though she’s been waiting all of her life, because she has. Only, these last few weeks have been different. They talk all day long, their hearts are full up with each other almost every moment. While she has been waiting, Trixie has been with her.

Flying is not her favourite thing, but Katya has both of Trixie’s EPs saved to her phone and she plays them on a loop for the whole six hours. She closes her eyes and thinks about Trixie, about how she’ll get to touch her tomorrow. Kim has promised to keep Trixie as distracted as possible today so that she won’t notice Katya has disappeared off the earth for a handful of hours. She’s going to manufacture a crisis, apparently.

Kim is a good friend who loves Trixie very dearly and is thrilled that she’s found Katya. She knows that Trixie is soulbound now, apparently, and Katya wonders who else Trixie has told but is too afraid to ask.

She answers the door and lets Katya in to the apartment. Her makeup is kind of similar to Trixie’s, looks like it must take hours and hours to do in the mornings. She’s tall and her hair is lilac and Katya is immediately obsessed with her.

“That’s Trixie’s room.” Kim gestures to a closed door off the living room. “Make yourself at home. Help yourself to whatever. She’s going to absolutely lose it.”

Katya drags her suitcase into Trixie’s bedroom and leaves it just inside the doorway while she takes the space in. The walls are a soft pink like the inside of a shell. Trixie’s bed is in the middle of the room beneath the window, made neatly with white sheets. There are plants on almost every surface, fairy lights strung up along the bookshelf.

It’s clean, and beautiful, and so Trixie that Katya has to sit down in the white chair at Trixie’s vanity table. She has a blanket folded over the back of it that looks handmade, and Katya brushes her fingers over the wool.

Kim pokes her head around the doorframe. “I’m making tea, if you want some?”

“Sure, thanks. Whatever you’re having sounds good.”

“It’s so like her in here, isn’t it,” Kim says. She’s got this soft little smile on her face and Katya realises for the first time that she’s not the only one missing Trixie.

There are lots and lots of people in her life. People Katya doesn’t know, has no idea even exist. She’d like to meet them, like to hold Trixie’s hand and be introduced to them all as her girlfriend. She’s been calling her that inside her head, but hasn’t yet been brave enough to say it out loud.

It turns out that Kim is great. She’s got a sharp sense of humour that is so much like Trixie’s. They make sense, the two of them. Katya gets to hear stories about what Trixie is like to live with, what she was like in college.

She knows, sort of, because she felt her every single day. It’s nice to attach some anecdotes to the emotions. While Trixie’s been away, each day Katya has chosen a random excerpt from her journals to share with her. It’s like a horoscope, but it’s a recollection and not a prediction. Sometimes Trixie has remembered the events vividly and shared them with Katya, and other times she’s had no idea what was happening.

Katya sleeps in Trixie’s bed. It doesn’t smell too strongly of her, because she’s been away from it for nearly six weeks. Tomorrow night though, she’s going to sleep in this bed with Trixie right beside her.

Her flight gets in pretty early in the morning, which means she’s definitely going to be grumpy. Katya puts on one of her favourite dresses, a long-sleeved black one with floral embroidery. At the airport she gets a chai latte for Trixie and a black coffee for herself and she stands at arrivals, watching everybody pouring out.

The way the airport is set up, with glass all along the hallway, means that she can see Trixie quite easily. She’s coming up the ramp, dragging her pink suitcase behind her. She isn’t looking where she’s going; she’s got her phone in her free hand and she’s typing rapidly with her thumb.

Katya’s phone buzzes insistently in her hand over and over and she unlocks it, opens her messaging app.

babe

tell me not to turn around and get on a plane to boston

that’s a dumb idea, right?

Katya grins and darts a glance at Trixie. She’s almost at the exit now but she still hasn’t looked up from her phone. Even coming off a flight she’s so beautiful, her hair in two braids down her back and little pieces curling around her face.

its a very dumb idea, yeah

because im not in boston

Trixie’s head snaps up at that. She picks Katya out of the crowd right away and when their eyes meet she stumbles, the rhythm of her stride knocked off balance. Katya feels Trixie’s shock hit her and has to take a steadying breath, but the rush of joy that immediately follows is so good it makes her lightheaded. Trixie smiles so big and then ducks her head like she’s shy.

When she reaches Katya she barrels into her and wraps her arms tight around her shoulders. Katya brings a hand up to cradle the back of her head.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she laughs, and Trixie makes a small, strangled noise.

“What are you- how did you get here? Holy shit. Katya.”

Trixie untangles herself from around Katya but doesn’t go far, captures her face between her palms. Her own face is slack with awe so that she’s not even smiling, but Katya is, can’t seem to stop.

“You should tell your roommate not to let strangers into your apartment while you’re out of town.”

“I missed your first time meeting Kim?” Trixie pouts.

Her hands are still on Katya’s face and she seems to remember that quite suddenly. Her thumb comes to Katya’s bottom lip and drags it down experimentally (she sends a silent prayer of thanks up to the gods of liquid lipstick).

Katya sucks in a breath. This is her last ever first kiss. She wants it to be right. Eyes closed, she waits to feel Trixie’s mouth on hers. Instead, their foreheads meet, and when Katya opens her eyes again Trixie’s looking down at her like she’s drowning.

“I wanna kiss you so bad,” she says, and her voice is all punched out and breathy like she already has. “God. I want you so much.”

Katya lifts her chin a little and lets her hands settle at Trixie’s waist. Go ahead.

“But once I start, I’m not gonna be able to stop. And I don’t wanna do it here.”

That’s a very fair assessment. Katya laughs to break the tension and hands Trixie her chai, takes her suitcase from her so she can focus on drinking it.

“Come on, honey. Let me take you home.”

They sit on opposite sides of the car in the Uber to Trixie’s apartment, leaving their hands on the middle seat. Trixie strokes her fingers across the back of Katya’s hand, kneads her knuckles into the meat of Katya’s palm. Trixie’s hands are the most tender part of her, Katya thinks. Not her heart. Trixie’s heart is strong and sure.

Kim has made herself conspicuously absent from the apartment, left a note to tell them that she’ll be back in the morning and to please at least disinfect the surfaces when they’re finished.

While Trixie freshens up from her flight, Katya runs through a very quick flow for calm and inner stability. She’s nervous, which is ridiculous, but Trixie makes her feel like a teenager. When she comes out of the bathroom Katya is on the couch, scrolling blindly through Twitter so that she doesn’t look like she’s just sitting waiting for Trixie.

“Hi,” Katya says, and intimacy colours her voice so it sounds like come here.

Trixie does. It doesn’t surprise Katya at all when she sinks down right into her lap, knees bracketing Katya’s hips and her thick thighs framing Katya’s slender ones.

She’s got her hands braced against the back of the couch either side of Katya’s head like she doesn’t trust herself not to ravage her immediately.

“I’ve thought about this every moment of every day since I met you,” Trixie says.

She’s doing a really good job of sounding confident, but Katya feels her uncertainty just as intensely as she feels her own.

“I have too,” Katya confesses. She reaches up to touch Trixie, the soft skin of her cheek. “God. You’re so beautiful.”

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Trixie says. Her voice is so quiet, gentle like she gets when Katya’s anxiety is bad and she’s doing her best to soothe her. “If that’s alright.”

When Trixie leans in and closes the distance between them, Katya can hardly breathe around the swell of her heart in her throat. Trixie’s lips are soft and she tastes like mint, must have just brushed her teeth. Katya’s ready for Trixie to deepen things right away but she doesn’t, kisses Katya soft and slow. It feels so good, and she feels how good it is for Trixie too and it’s almost too much. She finds herself balling her hands tightly into fists and then flexing her fingers again, over and over at Trixie’s hips.

“You can touch me,” Trixie says against Katya’s mouth. “I want you to touch me.”

She splays her hands wide at Trixie’s ass and uses that grip to haul her in close. Trixie’s hips rock down sharply against Katya’s and she can feel the heat of her already. Trixie’s hands are in Katya’s hair and she tugs experimentally right at her scalp. Katya gasps into Trixie’s mouth and presses her legs together, can’t quite hold back the low groan that rumbles out of her.

“Really?” Trixie grins down at her. “Huh. I thought you were the top.”

Even after only four weeks, even though this is their first time doing this, Katya knows how much Trixie enjoys making her flustered. She likes to hear Katya strung out and desperate. It makes sense that she’d want to see her that way too, beneath her on the couch.

“I brought a strap, you fucking bitch,” Katya says, and gets her hand up beneath Trixie’s dress to brush against her.

It makes her stop laughing immediately, makes her fall forwards and let out an utterly obscene whine right against Katya’s ear. She rocks against Katya’s fingers, already soaked through her underwear.

Touching Trixie feels so good, and she can feel how good Trixie feels to be touched at the same time, and it’s the hottest and most intense thing she’s ever experienced.

She pushes the fabric of Trixie’s underwear out of the way so she can get her fingers against the slick heat of her. When Katya touches Trixie’s clit she yelps and a shudder rips through her entire body.

“You brought a- a dildo through TSA?” Her voice is coming in short bursts now and she’s panting already, her breath hot at Katya’s neck.

“No,” Katya snorts. “Just my harness. Figured you probably have your favourites.”

Trixie clenches around nothing at that, Katya feels it both where her fingers are and between her own legs. She’s still making lazy circles against Trixie’s clit and she picks up the pace a little bit.

“Oh, fuck, Katya,” Trixie says when she slides one finger into her.

“Yeah, baby. Working on it.”

Trixie likes to talk, is a chronic interrupter. It’s not at all surprising that she talks constantly while Katya fucks her. She adds another finger pretty much right away, because Trixie is so wet and desperate that there’s no resistance at all.

“God. Fuck. You feel so good. Did you-” Katya curls her fingers and Trixie growls in the back of her throat. “Did you know it would be this good?”

Katya has her open mouth against Trixie’s neck and she lets her teeth graze very lightly against the smooth skin there, lets the tip of her tongue just dart out to touch.

“I didn’t know. But I hoped.”

Trixie bites Katya’s clavicle. “More, Katya, please. I need more. I need you to fill me.”

She obliges, adds a third finger that makes Trixie cry out. Katya is barely even moving, just letting Trixie ride her hand and grind against her palm. They’re both still fully clothed.

When Trixie comes she’s silent, which is interesting. They’ve touched themselves together a few times, so Katya knows what it feels like when Trixie comes, but it’s different having her right here in her lap. She works her through it, fucks her with three fingers until she’s trembling and collapsed against Katya’s chest.

As soon as she gets her breath back, Trixie climbs off of Katya’s lap and goes to the floor. She kneels in front of the couch and wraps her hands around the backs of Katya’s thighs, hauls her to the edge of the cushion. Trixie shoves the skirt of Katya’s dress up out of her way and pulls her underwear off, tosses them aside somewhere behind herself.

The anticipation is driving Katya nuts. She can feel Trixie’s warm breath so close to where she needs her, and she can feel how badly Trixie wants her. Trixie lays her cheek against the inside of Katya’s thigh and blinks up at her.

“I’ve thought about this so much. Your thighs. How much I’ve been wanting to be between them. I wanna eat you out every day for the rest of my life.”

Katya’s hips lift at that, chasing Trixie’s mouth. She decides to play nice, for once, and licks Katya slowly. It’s so good. Katya pulls her dress up over her head. She’s not wearing a bra and she pinches and rolls her nipples, stares down at Trixie between her legs. Katya grinds against Trixie’s face, chases the coiling tension in the pit of her stomach.

Trixie slides two fingers into her at once and sucks hard on her clit and that’s all it takes, she comes with a little shout and arches off the couch cushion.

Still on the floor, Trixie smiles sweetly up at her. “I want you to fuck me. Properly. I’ve been thinking about it. A lot.”

“Sure, honey.” Katya sits up and leans forwards, takes Trixie’s face in both hands so she can kiss her. She smoothes her thumb over Trixie’s eyebrow. “Since you’ve been such a good girl, we can do that. Go pick out something nice. I’ll be right there.”

She makes herself wait much longer than she’d like. Katya likes to top, she likes the control that it gives her and it makes her feel good to be wanted so badly. She just needs a minute to get into the right headspace. She pours herself a glass of water from the Brita in the refrigerator and drinks it slowly.

In the bedroom, Trixie is lying on her front in the middle of the bed. There’s a dildo next to her on the sheets, pink and thinner than Katya would have expected. She rummages in her suitcase for the ring harness and steps into it, glad Trixie is face down and doesn’t get to see this part. Once everything is in place Katya gives an experimental tug on her dick to make sure it’s secure.

Trixie is whining very quietly and her hips are rocking back and forth, but she doesn’t turn her head, doesn’t look at Katya. Between her own thighs, Katya feels how desperately Trixie needs her right now.

She puts a knee on the mattress and Trixie keens when her body dips towards it. Katya nudges Trixie’s legs apart and settles between them, drapes herself over Trixie’s back. She kisses Trixie’s shoulder, open-mouthed, and lets her dick slide against the crease of Trixie’s ass.

“Good girl, Trixie. You’re so patient. Are you ready, baby?”

Trixie nods. She’s got her face squashed against the pillows so Katya can’t see much more than the curve of her cheek and her delicate ear. She wraps one hand around her dick and guides herself into Trixie.

For the very first time, Katya realises what it must be like to have an actual dick. As she pushes inside of Trixie she feels it, feels the stretch and how good it is to be filled. Trixie angles her hips up and back and Katya pulls out just a little, fucks into her hard again.

“Oh, Trixie, that’s- wow,” she says into the back of Trixie’s head, and gets a little keening noise of agreement.

Katya sets a steady rhythm, fucks Trixie hard and reaches around underneath their bodies to rub at her clit. She can feel exactly how much Trixie can take, knows just how hard she can push it. Sweat beads at her hairline and slides down towards her ears.

“Wait, wait, stop,” Trixie says.

Her hips still immediately and she supports her body weight on her elbows. She doesn’t think she hurt Trixie. She’d have felt it, surely, and it doesn’t feel like Trixie’s upset.

“I wanna see you. I wanna kiss you.”

Katya pulls out and gives Trixie room to roll onto her back beneath her. She pushes back in immediately, because it feels so fucking good to be inside of Trixie and she wants to stay there forever.

The snap of Katya’s hips against Trixie’s does not at all match the leisurely way that she kisses her. She licks into Trixie’s mouth, bites her bottom lip and sucks on it to soothe her.

“Oh, yes, right there,” Trixie gasps when Katya shifts the angle of her hips. “Don’t stop, Katya. Don’t stop.”

When Trixie comes she closes her eyes and tips her head back and clutches at Katya’s shoulders, one leg up around her waist and the heel of her foot digging into Katya’s ass.

After they’ve both used the bathroom and Katya’s taken the harness off and gotten each of them a glass of water, she joins Trixie in bed. Trixie tucks herself under Katya’s arm and traces lazy, concentric circles over her stomach with the tip of her finger.

“Ever let anybody rail you on the first date, before?”

“Only my uncle,” Trixie says, and then screams a laugh at herself. “But this wasn’t our first date.”

It wasn’t. She’s right. Katya kisses Trixie’s forehead because she can, because Trixie’s right there and she’s been thinking about it for a month.

“I’m so happy you’re here. I can’t believe that you’re here.”

“It’s okay?” Katya asks quietly. Part of her has been worried that Trixie is going to be mad, isn’t going to want Katya in her space.

Trixie props herself up on one elbow so she can look down at Katya. She has an adorable little crease between her eyebrows and she studies Katya for a long time.

“When you’re not near me,” Trixie starts, and touches the tips of two fingers to Katya’s chin. “It is a physical ache. I don’t ever wanna do that again. I don’t ever wanna be away from you for that long again.”

They spend almost the entire week together and settle quickly into a routine. Katya wakes up early in the mornings and does yoga in the living room, smokes a cigarette on Trixie’s tiny balcony while she waits for the kettle to boil. She comes back to bed with tea for them both and gets to wake Trixie. Every morning, when Trixie opens her eyes to look at her, Katya feels a little surge of joy right in the centre of her chest. She likes being the first thing Trixie sees each day.

Today is her last day in Los Angeles. They’ve gotten to walk around holding hands in the daylight. They’ve hiked and gone to the movies and gotten ice cream; they’ve fucked like every time is their last. Katya finds that she likes LA, even though it’s even more disgustingly hot than Boston.

She could see herself here.

Trixie is still sleeping and Katya leaves her tea on the nightstand in case she wakes up, goes back out onto the balcony with her phone in her hand. She dials, listens to it ring twice before it connects.

“Katenka?”

“Da, Mama. Privet.” Now that she’s older, and less stubborn, Katya speaks mostly in Russian to her parents. She doesn’t want to lose it, and now that she’s not living with Sasha anymore it’s good to practice.

Katya leans against the railing and holds her phone to her ear, only half listening. Her mother likes to begin every conversation by catching Katya up with all of the neighbourhood gossip. Half of these people she hasn’t seen for fifteen years, but she offers her mother a little assent every now and then anyway.

“Listen, Mama,” she says when there’s a break in the conversation. “I found them.”

“Your sestrinskoye serdste?” her mother gasps.

They’ve been worrying. Papa doesn’t show it, but Mama often frets that Katya is approaching forty and maybe she should forget about being soulbound and just settle down with someone. She knows that they’re afraid they’re going to die without seeing their daughter married off. But now there’s Trixie.

“Da. Her name is Trixie. She’s a musician. She lives in California. I’m at her apartment right now.” She pauses to give her mother time to digest all of that and then she says, softer, “I really like her, Mama.”

“Oh, Katenka, sweetheart. That’s wonderful. I’m so glad. Can we meet her?”

She thinks about that, about bringing Trixie home to her family. She knows that Trixie’s relationship with her own family is strained, thinks about her mother hugging Trixie hello and bringing her into the kitchen, trying to fatten her up. “Soon, Mama. I promise.”

The sliding door to the balcony makes a screeching noise when it’s pushed open further, and then Katya feels the warmth of Trixie right behind her. She wraps both arms around Katya and draws her back against her chest, kisses her cheek.

“I have to go. I’ll talk to you later. I love you,” Katya says, and hangs up the call.

She turns in the circle of Trixie’s arms and leans in to kiss her good morning. Trixie is responsive, opening her mouth and sliding her tongue against Katya’s. When they break apart her cheeks are flushed.

“That your mom?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so fucking sexy when you speak Russian.”

It makes Katya laugh and Trixie grins too, pleased with herself. Her hair is a little rumpled and Katya smoothes it down for her, leaves a little kiss at the end of her nose.

“She wants to meet you. She’s very excited that I found my sestrinskoye serdste.”

“I still can’t believe you call it that.”

Katya lifts both eyebrows and leans back a little against the grip of Trixie’s arms. “What do you call it?”

“A soulmate. Because I’m not a pretentious asshole.”

She swats at Trixie, pouts at her, but she knows Trixie can feel that she’s not offended. Quite the opposite. Every single thing Trixie does endears her hopelessly to Katya. They make out lazily on the balcony for a little while, neither of them caring that the whole world can see. Katya still remembers the way Trixie looked down at her and said she never wants them to be apart. It makes her brave.

“Hey, Trixie?”

“Mm,” Trixie hums, and kisses her again.

Katya takes a small step back, her ass hitting the railing, so she can see Trixie properly. “What do you think about me moving out here? I could get a really tiny, really shitty apartment and teach yoga.”

“No,” Trixie says. It doesn’t match up with the joy that has come to life in her chest, the joy that is pouring slowly through Katya as well like longing made liquid.

“No?”

Trixie shakes her head, says it again. “No. No tiny apartment. Move in with me.”

For a long moment Katya can only stare at her, slack-jawed. She thinks about it. She’s always been a solitary creature, afraid of commitment, afraid of intimacy. But then, isn’t that because all this time she’s been waiting for Trixie? It doesn’t scare her. Not like it used to. She still hasn’t said anything, and she knows it’s freaking Trixie out but she can’t make her brain work.

“Katya. I know this is insane. I know we’ve only known each other for like a month and a half. But- I’m in love with you. I love you.”

She remembers the very first time Trixie felt it. They had been in the kitchen, Katya cleaning the dishes from the dinner Trixie had cooked for them. Trixie had been sitting on the countertop, swinging her bare legs and occasionally poking Katya in the side with her toes.

“Why don’t you go run yourself a bath? I got you a new bubble bar while you had your meeting, today,” Katya had said. A rush of clear and brilliant adoration had washed through Trixie and she had gaped at Katya for a second before kissing her, with more tongue than she anticipated.

She remembers finding it funny that Trixie had only just then realised. Katya’s known it from the very start. It’s been a fact of her life: her name is Yekaterina Petrovna Zamolodchikova, she is an addict, she is in love with her sestrinskoye serdste.

“Oh, Trixie, baby,” she says on a bubble of wet laughter, has to close her eyes so she doesn’t cry. “I’ve loved you for your whole life.”

They’re both crying then, and laughing, and clutching at each other. Kim pokes her head around the doorframe to look at them.

“What are you two lesbians doing?”

“Kimberly,” Trixie says like she’s thrilled to see her. “Is it cool if Katya moves in here?”

Kim snorts. “Is she gonna contribute to the rent?”

“I sure will. And the chores. I’ll be a very good roommate.”

Trixie’s hand is inside the waistband of Katya’s yoga pants and she tugs them away from her skin to let cool air inside. It’s very distracting, makes Katya shiver. She reaches around behind herself and circles Trixie’s wrist in her fingers to keep her still.

Kim is watching them, a look of disgust on her face, but then she grins. “Then yes. It’s cool. It’ll be nice to have someone else to share the burden of living with Trixie.”

“Wow, fuck you too,” she says, but she’s smiling still.

Suddenly the prospect of leaving tomorrow doesn’t seem so awful. They spend the afternoon at the beach. Trixie’s wearing a pink coverup and a huge hat and she sits neatly on her towel and reads, occasionally looking up at Katya over top of her sunglasses.

Katya wades into the ocean. A small child is watching her from a few feet away, staring at her tattoos. She smiles at them, allows them to touch her skin when they come closer. She’s got her hair tied up on top of her head in a scrunchie so they’re all on show, even the one between her shoulder blades that isn’t visible very often.

Once the child’s parent comes to collect them, Katya walks a little deeper until the water laps at her waist. From here Trixie looks like a vintage drawing, like a 50’s pin up girl. She’s got the front of her hair pinned in curls around her face to complete the fantasy.

The water is cool and lovely but Katya still feels hot. She put on sunscreen, mostly because she wanted Trixie to rub it into her back and then she got to rub Trixie’s back too. It’s difficult to cool off when Trixie insists on lying out like a lizard, but she doesn’t mind really.

They’re going to get to do this forever. The thought makes her smile, and suddenly she needs to be close to Trixie. She starts making her way to shore, the water dragging at her thighs and calves so she can’t move as quickly as she wants to.

When she reaches Trixie, Katya kneels down beside her. She keeps her in place with one hand at her thigh and leans in beneath the brim of her ridiculous hat. She kisses her, lets herself linger because this part of the beach isn’t too crowded.

“Hi, beautiful,” she says when they separate. “I missed you.”

“You were twenty feet away,” Trixie says, but she knocks her forehead against Katya’s and then steals another kiss from her.

Katya unrolls her own towel and stretches out next to Trixie on the sand. She doesn’t have the attention span for sunbathing usually, but lying here watching Trixie she has plenty to keep her occupied.

After a while Trixie sets her book down and pulls a notebook and a pink pen out of her bag. She’s working on a new song; Katya’s spent the last few nights lying with her head pillowed on Trixie’s thighs and feeling the reverberation of the guitar through her skull.

She likes to watch Trixie work, see her chewing on her bottom lip and sighing every now and then. Sometimes she will hum the melody very softly so that Katya almost thinks she’s imagined it.

They leave the beach when Trixie gets hungry and get dinner at her favourite vegan burger place. They have fries to share and Trixie lets Katya feed them to her across the table. She’s sad, and trying not to be, because she doesn’t want to make Trixie sad as well.

“How long do you think it’ll be. Before you can move here?”

Katya chews and swallows her food because she knows Trixie hates it when she talks with her mouth full. There’s a little streak of sunscreen on the tip of her nose from when she reapplied before they ate that Katya can’t stop looking at. She feels good, warm and loose-limbed and sitting out on the patio with the woman she loves beyond her capacity to love.

“M’not sure. I’ll have to give notice on my apartment, and at work. Break it to my parents. Pack everything up. Hire movers, I guess?”

Her chest gets tight. There’s so much to be done. She’s really going to uproot her whole life for somebody she’s known not even two months. It’s insane, and she’s definitely going to be scolded by her family and her friends and colleagues.

And then Trixie reaches across the table and takes her hand. Her skin is so soft. Katya knows now that it’s because she moisturises religiously, has been allowed to work Trixie’s expensive lotions into her legs for her at night.

“You don’t have to do this. If it’s too much.”

“It’s a lot,” she agrees. “But honey, you’re the only person that I want to be with, every single day.”

That makes Trixie blush and Katya feels her squirming pleasure, remembers too late that when she knocks the breath out of Trixie like this she has to deal with her own lungs caving in too.

“I love you so much. I’m so excited.”

Yeah. She is too.

* * *

Katya packs up her entire life in five neatly labelled cardboard boxes. They hire a truck and make an adventure of it, her and Fame. She says she wants to visit LA anyway, now that summer is rolling lazily over into fall and she can bear the heat a little better.

People have been a lot more accepting than Katya anticipated. Her mama had cried when she told her she was moving, but had insisted it was out of joy that she finally found Trixie. Most people, when she tells them she found her sestrinskoye serdste and she’s a tall, blonde country singer, are thrilled for her.

There are a lot of yoga studios in Los Angeles. Katya finds a job easily and finds that she loves it. It’s winter and she doesn’t need a coat or three layers of thermals. She likes the sunshine and she likes the beach and she likes Trixie most of all.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon a week before Christmas. The apartment is decorated, and Kim and Trixie even let Katya hang some of her ornaments on their tree. There are little plastic babies and eyeballs and hands and the two of them are gracious enough to pretend they don’t think she’s a lunatic.

Katya hears footsteps thundering up the stairs and the clutch of excitement in her chest, suddenly. The door opens and Trixie comes hurtling into the apartment, goes straight for the kitchen. She turns on the radio and fiddles with the knobs, grabs blindly for Katya’s hand when she comes to stand beside her.

“Are you okay, honey?”

“Shhh. Listen.”

Trixie turns up the volume and the two of them stand hand in hand in their kitchen and listen to the radio announcer, introducing newcomer Trixie Mattel! and the lead single from her new Christmas album.

“They’re playing it!” Trixie yells, and throws her arms around Katya.

She can feel the wide arc of Trixie’s grin against her neck. “Oh my God, baby, I’m so proud of you.”

Trixie’s phone is vibrating frantically with messages from just about everyone she’s ever met in her life. She turns it over and dumps it on the counter, holds Katya in place with both hands at her shoulders.

“They’re playing it,” she says again, on a whisper this time, and shakes her head like she can’t quite believe it.

Once her song finishes she shuts the radio off and they stand in the silence together. Trixie is shaking, her lashes are wet and sticking together and she’s staring open-mouthed at Katya.

It would be difficult for her to put words to how she’s feeling right now. But that’s alright, because Katya feels everything too just as fiercely. And she knows that Trixie knows how proud she is, so she doesn’t have to embarrass herself by trying to say it out loud.

After that, everything happens quickly. She knows it doesn’t work that way, that Trixie has been trying for years and years to break into the mainstream. That the radio calling her a newcomer just reinforces the idea that things fall magically into her lap, when really Katya knows how much she has to fight for everything she wants. But it seems like one minute they’re sharing their tiny two bed with Kim and the next, they’re shopping for houses.

Trixie is very particular about it, which comes as a surprise to absolutely no one. They’re looking for a fixer upper, partly because the royalty checks Trixie gets in the mail aren’t quite that fat yet, and partly because Trixie wants everything to be just to her taste.

Their taste, she keeps insisting, but Katya doesn’t care as long as there’s a space for her practice and Trixie lets her hang some of her favourite drawings. Katya likes the idea of doing things herself, of making their home pretty for her girlfriend, and has taken to spending hours in the evenings on her laptop in bed next to Trixie researching how to plumb a toilet or demolish a soffit.

She wears her glasses, because she’s thirty eight years old, and because she knows it makes Trixie hot for her. She gets an hour at most before Trixie takes the laptop from her and climbs into her lap and kisses her deep and slow.

Everything is feeling very adult, all of a sudden. She has a job and a girlfriend that she’s buying a house with and suddenly the future isn’t so intangible. She’s planning for it, letting herself think about five or ten years from now.

This year, in September, she will have been sober for five years. There are days it hardly crosses her mind, and days she can’t focus on anything else at all, but those are a lot more rare now. If Trixie comes home from the studio or meetings or a television performance and finds Katya on the bathroom floor with all of the lights out in the apartment, it doesn’t take her by surprise because she feels Katya’s fear. And because of that, she knows to wrap both arms around her and sit in the silence until she comes back to herself.

Most days are good days. It helps, that her reason for staying sober is no longer just for her own sake. She was always terribly selfish, because all addicts are, and she likes that Trixie has made her selfless.

“What’s this one?” Katya calls out.

She can’t see over the top of the cardboard box in her arms and she feels juvenile yelling for Trixie like they’re playing Marco Polo. Today is one year since they met and — they haven’t done it on purpose — they are moving into their first home. It’s a three bed bungalow in Pasadena that Katya is only paying for about twenty percent of, but Trixie insisted.

Katya can’t stop thinking about Trixie in overalls with a scarf tied around her hair, standing on tiptoe to paint the parts of the walls that Katya can’t reach. She has a tour coming up in the fall, and neither of them want to think about being apart for seven weeks, but everything is different now. Trixie will come home from tour to their house. She will help Katya raise their dog, a rescue named Bunny they both absolutely adore.

“That’s for my office,” Trixie says right into her ear. It startles her, but Trixie catches the box before she’s even really dropping it.

Katya pads down the hall after Trixie and follows her into the room at the front of the house they’ve designated as her workspace. All of her guitars will hang on the wall in here eventually. Right now there are drop sheets down still to protect the new floors they had installed throughout. Trixie sets the box down and turns to look at Katya.

“Hey,” she says. Come here.

Katya steps into her space and slides her arms easily around Trixie’s waist. She kisses her, slow and exploratory until she feels Trixie’s knees start to liquify and she sags in her arms.

Since they’ve lived together, things have settled down a bit. Katya no longer feels every single tiny blip on Trixie’s emotional seismometer. She still gets the big things, like how it was when they were growing up, but so much better.

“I can’t believe this is our life,” Katya whispers. She kisses Trixie again, takes her time because they have time. They’ve got all the time in the world, now. Trixie is always responsive, always sweet and silly, and she kisses Katya like she likes her so much.

“Listen. I gotta talk to you about something.” Trixie takes a deep breath and meets Katya’s eyes. “I don’t want to be your girlfriend anymore.”

There’s mischief flitting with crêpe paper wings inside of Katya’s chest. Trixie’s mouth isn’t smiling, but her eyes are, and she’s clinging tight to Katya’s hands.

“Oh no?”

“No. I want to be your wife. I wanna marry you, Katya.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your knees or something?” Katya says, and is proud that her voice only cracks once.

Trixie kneels down as daintily as she can. She’s wearing jeans today, which startled Katya so badly this morning that for a second she felt like she’d seen a poltergeist. The floor is dusty and there’s still protective paper covering the window and a bulb dangles grotesquely from a wire over their heads because they haven’t picked a fixture yet.

It’s perfect.

“Katya,” Trixie starts. She takes both of Katya’s hands in hers and Katya kneels down in front of her, wants them to be on an even keel for this.

“I could say a bunch of straight people shit, like that I can’t imagine my life without you in it, but the gag is that it’s true. I can’t, because I’ve never experienced that.”

Trixie laughs, and Katya does too even though hot tears are already sliding down her cheeks and off the end of her nose. It earns her a look of concern from Trixie and she makes a little noise to say keep going.

“And I know that we’re forever and it’s just a piece of paper and it doesn’t really mean anything, but…it kinda does mean something. To me. And I just really like the thought of calling you my wife and never ever shutting up about it.” She darts a glance over to the dog, who is hopping around and wagging her tail furiously. “Plus, our daughter is illegitimate and we just can’t have that. The scandal of it all.”

Katya chokes on a sob and then surges forwards to kiss Trixie. It is not at all sexy; she’s openly crying into Trixie’s mouth and Bunny is barking at them both, getting swept up in the excitement.

She kisses Trixie deep and open-mouthed, lets her tongue slick inside and keeps Trixie in place with her palm at her cheek. She’s going to be her wife. Katya likes that thought, and likes the thought of being a wife herself, too. It doesn’t terrify her anymore. How could it?

Here is Trixie, warm and soft and good and asking Katya for something she has always intended to give. They separate and the dog nudges her way in between them and licks Katya’s neck, her wiggly body bumping into Katya’s stomach.

Katya keeps Bunny aside with a hand at her chest. Trixie is grinning so big that her eyes are creasing and Katya can see all of her teeth. Her freckles are dark with the summertime and her nose is a little sunburnt and Katya loves her.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, you fucking monster. You swamp thing.” She rests her forehead at Trixie’s chin for a moment, just to catch her breath, and then she straightens to see her again. “Yes. Of course. Of course.”

#rpdr fanfiction #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #trixya #soulmate au #lesbian au #fluff #smut #like a LOT of smut #ficon #beanierose

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