#but like. i guess not actually. like. it just feels slightly inconsiderate and makes me feel very insecure

[hairydykecunt]

i cant fet myself to do anything

[rinneroraito]

is it really the alcohoL?

L was going through the surveillance tapes for the nth time tonight, taking notes, labeling peculiarities in every frame.

“Let’s entertain the possibility that Light Yagami is Kira again,”  he thinks to himself as he types away on his keyboard. “He hasn’t done anything suspicious in the whole week that he had been under surveillance, only keeping up with his studies and engaging with his mother and sister. Assuming he’s only keeping up with his facade as a model student, son and brother, it could either be that he’s really good at it, or he’s entirely innocent.” 

The clacking of the keyboard fills the room as he scans the rest of the footage on multiple monitors, pausing on the scene where Light was having potato chips while studying.

“Light, you-”

A faint smell of lemon accompanied by the unmistakable sharpness of antiseptic fills the air. Flavored alcohol. L feels someone behind him and the scent of alcoholic citrus becomes more apparent.

“Miss Uehara, I can smell the alcohol from here,” L says, not looking up at you, a little displeased that you’ve managed to derail his train of thought.

“I’m off duty at the moment, aren’t I? Don’t worry, I’ll be alright in the morning, I have a regimen for this.” you reply, putting an arm on the back of the chair he was sitting on and leaning towards the back of his head. He is surprised by the contact but continues with his work as he tries to get his thoughts back in order, noting them down on his computer. They were important observations and your presence will not be a distraction for these findings to not be written down.

“You want some?”

L looks to his right side to see you offer him the can of alcohol and he silently huffs at the proposal, knowing the brand wouldn’t even be sweet enough for him to try anyways.

“No thank you, I’d like to keep a clear head while working.”

“Why are you even here, Miss Uehara?” He muses to himself. “If you’re not here tonight to help further this investigation, what business do you have? It does not make any sense for you to be here when you’re off-duty, the office hq is not the place to relax in.”

“I figured. You’re such a workaholic, Detective. Such a workaholic.”

“Your speech isn’t slurring yet so I assume you’re just buzzed. Were you pressured by the events as of late? I didn’t expect you to be the type to drink alcohol, actually.”

L replies, still mulling over the reason behind your visit as he continued to note down his observations, the clacking melody of the keyboard being the only thing making an audible sound in the electric silence of the dim office.

“Oh, you didn’t, did you? Well, it has been stressful, but I can manage. This helps.” You bring the can to your mouth, taking a long swig from it, exhaling after. “And I guess, in some way, you’re helping me, too.”

L was very much aware of the effects of alcohol and how it lowers down a person’s inhibitions significantly. The way you were approaching him right now was more daring than usual. Did you come here just to chat him up while he was working? But why? Is it the alcohol? Has the alcohol affected your judgment so much that you’ve become quite inconsiderate? You knew very well how he worked late into the night, you’ve sat through many playbacks of surveillance tapes with him yet now you’re here, and with the lack of a better phrase to describe it, wasting his time. “Would you please elaborate on that, Miss Uehara? Besides helping out with the actual Kira case and that small encouragement I gave you some time ago, I don’t suppose I’ve done anything of significant help towards you.”

You chuckled and he felt a bit of your weight on the back of his head as you leaned towards him. L shifts slightly at the contact but doesn't fuss about it, continuing with his task. He assumes that you were most likely going to leave soon anyways, your inebriation could only keep you awake for so long.

“Because you’re an inspiration to me and well, I like that you’re here, World’s Greatest Detective. It’s like, a biiiig deal to me that I get to work with you, you know?” You ramble.

“You speak rather highly of me, Miss Uehara, I’m touched, thank you.” He speaks in his usual monotone voice. There was genuine gratitude in it, but he also knew right from the start that you looked up to him quite a bit, hearing from Matsuda how you got so excited when he decided to ally with the NPA in catching Kira.

“Also, I think I actually like you, L...”

The keyboard’s clacking stops as he hears the words that escaped your mouth. Not only that, you dropped the usual honorific you called him by, likely influenced by the alcohol. 

“Like me?” His forehead knits as he rolls the thought in his head. This is new.  He knew you felt comfortable around him but… “It’s the alcohol.” L rationalizes.

He was still, and you continued to ramble on in your intoxication.

“I like the way you stare at things like you’re trying to dissect them before you, your piercing glare so intense that I feel like if you had lasers in your eyes I’d be bisected right in front of you.”

That description was pretty grim but… Why would you like that? Most people did not want him to stare at them as he seemed “eerie” and “creepy” when he did, but… You liked that?

“I like the way you daintily hold things with your thumb and forefinger, and it makes me wonder just how strong your digits are.”

More observations about his idiosyncrasies that most people just found strange. He’s never actually thought about how strong his fingers were, but now that you’ve pointed it out it made him look at his hands for a bit. And he realizes something. You were watching him really close, you were observing him. You had no aversion towards him.

He shifted slightly forwards, and you brought the arm that you had resting on the back of his chair around to rest on his shoulder. The contact surprises him again, but he stays still.

“I like the way you eat your sweets, it’s nice to see you enjoy them.”

You do?

“I like how I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or you’re just being blunt at times, and it sends the rest of the Task Force in a state of confusion whenever you say something.”

That, too?

You chuckle, pressing your cheek on the top of his head yet he was too lost trying to make sense of what you’re rambling about that he doesn’t move.

“I like your face, the seemingly permanent shadows under your eyes, your sharp jawlines and how long your neck is, your lanky frame…”

L’s eyes just stay wide as he listens to you. The surveillance footage seems to be in freeze frame as you keep talking. Is he just supposed to believe you? That you find him… attractive?

No, wait. Wait.

“I like how you’re so smart and you know that you’re the smartest guy in the room but you give everyone the benefit of the doubt because of the way you look.”

“Miss Uehara…”

It’s the alcohol.

“I don’t know, Detective, maybe I do like you or maybe it’s the alcohol.” Hair strands fall off your shoulders caressing the nape of his neck as you lower your face on the back of his head, his hair brushing against your cheeks.

He was so distracted by your words that he almost, almost forgot that you were drunk. “Your hair smells nice.” You say, and your breath bounces off of the nape of his neck. He bends forwards, away from the warmth of your breath as the proximity makes goosebumps on his skin.

“While I am flattered by your words, Miss Uehara, I have my reservations over accepting them due to your current state. Were the things you just said truthful and you’ve been harboring feelings for me for a while or were they just a product of the mock confidence induced by alcohol?”

He knew asking you right now would be futile because you were still intoxicated, but he just had to make things clear. You have only been working together in person for no more than 2 weeks, so to rationalize this behavior of yours, he’s decided to label it as some sort of callow infatuation.

It was just the alcohol… But, was it really?

He feels you shift your weight while your face was pressed on his head.

“If I remember all of this in the morning and start acting awkward around you, then you’ll know..”

I’ll ask her again when she’s sober.

“Would you kindly stand up so I can move away, please? I’ll have Watari assist you back to your room.” Getting you back into your room where you could sleep the alcohol off  was the most rational thing to do right now, and he needed to go back to work anyways. He feels the weight lift from the back of his head as you lean away, exhaling slowly.

“Can I sleep on the couch over there? I don’t..” You sway slightly on your feet.

He turns around and looks up at you, his wide eyes illuminated by the electric lighting of the monitors. He watches you closely, curiously, a faint tenderness that seemed to plead for the things you said earlier to be genuine.

“I don’t want to be alone tonight. I just want to know that there’s someone else within the 4 walls of the room I’m in.”

There it is. The reason you came to the office. You were seeking out a companion in your solitude. To pick him was something he had to find out the reason to later, something he had to clear up in the morning. 

“Very well. I’ll have a blanket brought up here for you.” He gets out of his seat and walks around his chair to your side.

“Thanks, Detective.” You step back so you could walk to where the couch was when the rest of the alcohol suddenly hits and you stumble backwards. L, who had been perceptive of the entire situation, was able to grab you by your shoulders before you could lose even more of your balance.

That was close.

“Easy. It seems like the rest of the alcohol you drank is starting to run its course, please hold on to me and I’ll walk you to the couch.”

His grip on your shoulders was firm and secure. You lean on to him and he brings one of his arms around your back as he walks you to the couch by the other end of the room. 

L looks at you as you drop yourself onto the sofa, making it seem more comfortable than it actually was.

Your voice comes out a little ragged as he watches you pull your feet up onto the couch.

“Hey, Detective..?” 

“Yes, Miss Uehara?”

“I still have the lollipop stick from that day we met.”

“You do?” 

That’s another revelation he wasn’t expecting, his brows furrowing in curiosity. But you had already fallen asleep.

You have left L with these alcohol-induced confessions, and he was pondering over them. He’s decided to file them into the back of his head for now, waiting until the morning to ask you about it when you’re awake and sober. 

“Good night, Miss Uehara.” He says to a sleeping you before he turns around to walk back to his monitors, resuming his role as the World’s Greatest Detective.

[tera-91]

Mid-June Rant

Im not sure when Ill post this.

July 2nd is when 2024 will be half way over. Even though as I start to write this post it is only June 1st. It feels like Ive spent half of the year already. Like Ive wasted half of the year.

Or rather I cant shake off the last half. When 2024 began I felt like it was Spring oddly enough. Like a new beginning. The first quarter went by and I kept doing the same thing over and over again. Then April hit and I decided to turn my world as I knew it upside down.

Wow that sounds dramatic.

Not really.

Just that I needed to make a change.

My first thought was to go back to school. To do something that I could make what I was in a week in a day. In reality it would probably take me a couple of days. Which wouldn’t be bad. I would more than double my income. The only problem would be that it will take me about 3 and a half years to get there.

That is quite a while to stay at a job that, deep down, I wasn’t happy. I get that it cant be great all the time. But everyday. I would go into work, either pissed off that I was there. That I felt like I was wasting my time. And if I wasn’t mad, or frustrated. I certainly was watching the clock and ready to walk out of the door.

The manager that was directly my boss I guess, was a inconsiderate jackass. But the other one I feel so much respect for. This manager wants to see if things can be talked out with the other manager. But even if that’s the case I feel like that one is such a vindictive tyrant. I don’t want to work for them. I just don’t know how to tell the other manager. Theres nothing else I can do. Nothing else I want to do.

I feel like I need to make a change.

But I have no one to talk it out with.

My friends say that I should take a break. My family is just wishy washy. I should do what I want. I wish I could talk to my dad. I feel like he could understand my brain better. The only other person that gets it is my sibling. Although we got different versions of neuro-spiciness. My sibling has quite a different choice of words for that manager though… I would rather not repeat.

Im not sure how many times Ill tell myself that I need to take a break. To make a change before I actually believe it. Or rather before I actually do something about it.

_____

Im not sure how many days its been since I wrote any of the previous stuff. Ive been doing a bunch of little things.

I feel like Im less stressed, I looked in the mirror the other day and realized, my shoulders were more relaxed.

Ive gotten a few things done. I got at least 3 videos made. I edited audio on another to come out hopefully soon. Ive written a little more.

Im exploring more.

Once I finish writing this Im going to tackle some things again. Try to get more done in my Roman story series. I hadn’t planned on making it a series but I ended up starting 4 stories with Roman for some reason, I don’t feel like I connect a whole lot with his character in comparison to Virgil. Then one day I was out with my pups and a thread appeared in my head. Connecting these 4 stories but I will have to make an additional one to make a 5 story series.

If youre interested in that, hopefully I wont make you wait too long for it. Im just struggling slightly as when I started the first one it was going to end differently so Ive been trying to add and shift things as I go.

I think I have a little bit of a block going, not necessarily in coming up with the story but to actually sit and write it. My brain is struggling to figure out which to tackle first.

Do I write? I have a bunch of different things that I need to write.

Do I record? I’m having a bit of an issue with my voice at the moment but I can at least prepare things to record.

Then there is the issue of income. I know logically at the moment I am lucky enough to have the option to step away from my source of income due to issues. But it is going to be a problem, I just don’t know how soon now. I have a medical thing going on that I will need to spend a not so small amount of money on which was not an issue prior to when I decided to take this path.

So I do think of that. Once that is hopefully taken care of in the real short future I will be able to tackle two things that I have a potential to get income in. Do I set up a patreon? It would be something to potentially help right now. I have applied for several jobs and have had at least 1 interview so far.

Part of me feels silly for thinking this. I mean I did decide to do a thing and this is the consequence of taking that action. But at the same time, I don’t regret making that decision.

Ill try to write the Roman stories but if that doesn’t seem to work I think I will try to get a little editing done.

_____

Right so a few days later and I’m still in job limbo apparently. Certain things happened in recent days. Didn’t get any of the Roman stories done yet.

Going to work on that and everything else that I need to work on.

I just need to do stuff as I have time. It doesn’t matter if I know I only have 5 minutes or if I jump on it and only get to spend that amount of time on it.

Off to make a list of things that I need to get done. Maybe if I have a visual representation of what is on my mind it will help.

[phantomrose96]

Buds After the Frost

This was supposed to be a short warm-up writing exercise yesterday and then it got... longer. Enjoy!!

...

The doors opened for Maddie Fenton with a pneumatic hiss. Pressurized nitrogen released, splitting open the vacuum seal on the door as its twin halves slid apart, slotting into the wall-mounted sleeves. The nitrogen misted out, cold and dry, air currents catching in swirls around Maddie Fenton’s lab coat. Her feet thocked against hollow metal, amplified by the coldness and the vastness of the containment room beyond.

She paused short of the specimen’s cell, mindful attention drawn to the panel of controls nested rightmost against the wall. The monitor read out stats, tracked metrics of the specimen’s heartrate and blood oxygenation and blood pressure. Dials beneath the screens offered her means of interaction, manipulating the cage’s environment without needing to tamper with it by hand. She ignored these, as she had been ignoring them the entire time, and paid mind only to the single switch which would seal shut the doors behind her.

She pressed it. Another pneumatic hiss followed, locking out the world behind her. Her breath curled, cold. She and the specimen were alone.

“No coffee this morning?” he asked.

Maddie sat down at the control panel, elbow leaning against the dashboard for support. She turned to the cage. “No. One of the interns broke the pot last night. New one should be delivered today.”

Phantom let out a huff of air. “You mean in this whole gigantic mega-hyper-futuristic government lab, there’s nothing that can stand in as a coffee pot?”

“I wouldn’t stay employed long if I tried using equipment to brew coffee.”

“Use one of the big ectoplasm beakers. Ectoplasm washes out with soap and water. Just suds it up and throw it in the coffee maker. I’m an expert about these things.”

“It’s more about protocol.”

Phantom waved her off. “’Protocol.’ Bureaucracy is standing between you and a delicious cup of ectoplasmic coffee, Dr. Fenton.”

Maddie looked forward now, taking him in. He’d hovered to the front of the cell, translucent reinforced glass separating him from the rest of the lab. Green eyes shined above a cheeky smile, a dusting of loose white hairs falling over his eyes, the rest of his bangs swept slightly to the side. His tailed flickered, his aura pulsed, his vital readings blipped out steady, normal, healthy.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah?”

Maddie paused.

“Why are you still here?”

The ghost boy let out a small guffaw. He motioned his arms around him, hands waving. “I dunno. Maybe the big ghost-proof box I’m in has something to do with it?”

“The shield is down, Phantom,” Maddie answered quietly. She set her eyes to Phantom, investigating. “…I put it down last night. It’s down now. You knew this.”

Phantom took just a moment too long to react, eyebrows arching up. “Oh, huh! Nope I didn’t notice. I mean it’s not like I’m constantly throwing myself at the barrier to electrocute myself so no I just didn’t try getting past it last night so I didn’t notice.”

“Phantom,” Maddie said again, voice measured, words stern. “You saw me crank down the dial that controls the shield.”

“Well I don’t know what all those buttons and dials do.”

“Yes you do. You’ve been observing me since day 1. You knew.”

Phantom kicked back in the air, floating a fraction back and higher. “Well maybe I thought it was a trap, I dunno. Or maybe I just like to get in your head, you know? What unpredictable thing will Phantom do next! Gotta write another 200 equations about ghost theory to figure that one out, Dr. Fenton.”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not want to leave?”

“Oh I wanna leave.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“We’re having a conversation. That’d be rude.”

“Will you leave as soon as I exit the room?”

“Who knows?”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

Maddie stood. She left her chair and the control panel behind. She walked up to the specimen cage instead. It was cubic, a skeleton of metal bar ribbings with a metal mesh that plastered the glass sides like a membrane. The top anchored to the ceiling, the bottom—raised by about a foot—anchored to a pedestal on the floor. Maddie stared through the mesh into Phantom’s eyes.

“Is there anyone who realizes you’re missing?” she asked.

Phantom chewed on the question. “Nah. Well um, trick question, actually. Probably not. Assuming I do this right, then no one has even realized I’m gone.”

“Do what ‘right’?”

“You know that thing about Clockwork I explained?”

“You said he’s the ghost that controls time and reality.”

“Yeah. SUPER powerful.”

“And you said you …were from one of those other realities.”

Phantom nodded. “Maybe I touched some things in Clockwork’s lair I wasn’t actually allowed to touch. Jury’s still out on whether I’m in trouble for that or not. I’ve been a little too ‘stuck in this reality’ to know if Clockwork is pissed. But yeah, I got um, bopped into your reality instead of mine. So technically my reality is lacking me right now, and yeah there’s people there who’d know I’m missing.”

Phantom flipped upside-down, as though laying on his back. He rested his palms beneath his head, elbows out, suspended in an invisible hammock, head tilted far back so that he still stared at Maddie. “Especially since it’s been, what, a month that I’ve been gone?”

“2 weeks.”

“What? No way. I’ve been here absolutely forever it has to have been at least a month.”

“This is day 14 of your observation, Phantom.”

Phantom blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Anyway. Two weeks is still long enough to have a search party out on my butt. But whether or not that’s happened is up to – it’s kind of a Schrodinger thing. Because here’s my strategy. Assuming Clockwork hasn’t banned me from reality-hopping forever, I can just get him to send me back to my own reality at the precise moment in time I vanished. And then bam, no one ever knows I was gone. And it makes no difference whether I do that today, or next week, or next month. So assuming you eventually let me go, then I’m all set there.”

“You say that almost like you don’t care when it happens.”

“I dunno, more like I’m just not losing sleep over it. It’s not like I have a say in the matter. You do. I don’t.”

“Is the time you spend here just meaningless, to you?”

“I wouldn’t say meaningless. I’m still aging goddammit.”

“You’re a ghost.”

“I’m complex.” Phantom flipped right-side-up again. “If I start growing facial hair, send me back. I’m gonna have some awkward questions to answer if I show up again with a ghost beard suddenly.”

“…And what if I never send you back?” Maddie asked, careful with her words. “How does your plan work if you stay here forever? If I destroy you first?”

“Um. …It doesn’t, I guess.” Phantom set a hand to his chin, thinking. “Yeah um, please don’t do that. I don’t wanna worry my whole family like that.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“What part?”

“That you have a family.”

“I mean. I think that came up in Interrogation Session #3. Consult your notes.”

“I just have a hard time believing you.”

“Because I’m a ghost?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a complex ghost.”

“I know. You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

Silence filtered in between them.

“…What is your family like, Phantom?”

Phantom stiffened a fraction, his eyes finding Maddie’s and shifting away. “Oh, you know, family.”

“Do they exist here too?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from another reality, at least you’re claiming you are.”

“I gotta be. The me from this reality died 6 months ago, didn’t he?”

“The you from most realities is dead, Phantom. You’re a ghost.”

“A complex ghost.”

“The you from this reality was destroyed 6 months ago.”

“Which you validated with your own sciencey equipment, right? You said so! So you know I’m not lying. Unless you think I recombobulated myself from being a protoplasmic smear on the sidewalk.” Phantom caught himself, registering the flinch in Maddie’s body. He deflated a bit, eyes averted. “S-sorry. Inconsiderate phrasing.”

“Why?” Maddie asked, tone flat, blunt.

Phantom’s eyes shifted back. “Um. Just. You know. That accident was. There were um, you know—”

“Human causalities.”

Phantom squirmed. “We don’t have to talk about that, you know? No one wants to talk about that. Okay as a ghost I guess ‘talking about how I died’ is sort of a bit more normal, but this is weird yeah, ‘talking about how an alternate-me died permanently’? That’s morbid. No one wants to talk about that.”

“Okay then. You can go back to answering my previous question.”

“Um. I forget.”

“Does your family exist in this reality?”

“Um, well who really knows, you know? I had like a grand total of 20 minutes of freedom in this reality before you captured me, so, don’t ask me like I’m any kind of expert about your reality. What’s it matter?”

“I want to know if there’s anyone in this reality who’s mourning you.”

Phantom’s face schismed with surprise. His front dropped, and the first look of genuine emotion sank into his glowing eyes. “Woah… That’s um, weirdly nice, of you, I guess. Why do you… want to know?”

Maddie said nothing.

“I. Um. I think the answer is no? So don’t um. Worry about that. If you were worried? Which is weird. I’m the enemy, aren’t I? Evil spooky ghost to be studied?”

“I’m not so sure what you are…” Maddie answered. “I heard you got destroyed trying to save them.”

“The um… the human casualties?”

“Yes.”

“I said we don’t have to talk about that.”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Do you know who they were?”

“The… casualties?”

“Yes.”

“Come on we’re on a different topic now.”

“Do you know who they were?”

“I don’t—how’m I supposed to know? I don’t know how I died here, you know? You think I’ve got some kind of like… parallel-universe death vision?”

“So you don’t know?”

“N-no.”

“I have a different question, then.”

“Okay, good, because I haven’t been liking these previous ones.”

“Are you staying just to keep me company?”

Phantom faltered. He looked left, then right, hand scratching at his chin. “I’m staying because I’m in a ghost-proof box.”

“It’s not ghost-proof anymore. The shields are down.”

“I feel like you’re circling around some accusation I’m not smart enough to follow. This feels like entrapment.”

“Then I’ll be more direct.”

“Oh no there is an accusation.”

“I think you do know how you were destroyed in this universe, Phantom.” Maddie took a step forward, and she let her left hand touch the glass, eyes focused on her fingers. “I think you know what happened at the Nasty Burger.”

“That’s—um—the human food… consumption… location… that the local human adolescents meet at, yes?”

Maddie looked up, and she locked Phantom with her stare. He squirmed, and he relented.

“I um…” he continued. “I—yeah—yeah, okay? I know about the Nasty Burger accident. It was supposed to happen to me too in my reality but I—Clockwork—stopped it from happening in my reality.” Phantom glanced left, right, as if staring beyond the confines of his cage. “When I first got knocked into this reality, I went to go find the Fenton portal so I could try to refind Clockwork and fix this and… Well it wasn’t there. And I tried to find some people I know and… I checked out the library in case the Fentons just lived somewhere else and. I um. I found the articles.” His eyes focused on hers again. “They all say you were the only survivor, yeah…?”

“I was sick, that day. It was just a cold. My husband Jack went without me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It took my daughter and my son too.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“And it destroyed you.”

Phantom opened his mouth, but no words followed.

Maddie looked up.

“You knew this. You’ve known this ever since I captured you.” Maddie let her hand slide away from the glass. “Did you let me capture you?”

“Why would I let you capture me?”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

Phantom’s eyes flickered about, unwilling to meet hers. “…Nah. Nah. I don’t—come on ‘sorry’? I’m a ghost you know? Bane of humanity! We’re enemies. You were just too skilled a hunter and you captured me.”

“And yet you won’t leave.”

Phantom lapsed silent.

“I um… I wasn’t happy to read about—to know the, the thing at the Nasty Burger happened here, okay? That’s something that I kinda didn’t want to believe existed in any reality anymore, but I guess… And if you were still alive. I was… maybe just kind of happy to see you? That you were okay. And still hunting. That was kind of, like a small relief.” Phantom glanced away, back again. “I wasn’t evil, you know. In my reality or this one. I care about what happened to the Fentons…”

“You let me capture you. …And you did it because you thought it would be a nice thing for you to do for me.”

“I Just—I thought maybe, um… I mean when you phrase it like that. I mean what else could cheer up renowned ghost hunter Maddie Fenton quite like a ghost subject to study? Me, especially? The ghost boy or public enemy #1 or whatever. I’m fun, aren’t I?”

Silently, Maddie pushed away from Phantom’s cage. She moved to the control panel, stiff movements and numb fingers. She entered the release code into the console, and unslung the key from her neck to twist into the override, and she threw down each successive lever in the row of four lining the top of the mechanisms.

The scrape of glass sliding away sounded behind her. All four walls of Phantom’s enclosure dropped away, metal mesh sliding away piece-meal. Phantom stared at her, blinking, floating in place.

“You’re free to go, Phantom.”

“I—uh—well hang on, I don’t think the Guys In White would be too happy about that. You can’t just let me—”

“Go, Phantom.”

“They could like, fire you.”

“I don’t care about this job.”

“I—come on, you still wanna study me, don’t you? Chat with me? If you feel bad maybe just get me a couch and some video games for my cage then I’ll be—”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Go home to your family.”

The half-hearted smile dropped from Phantom’s face.

“Come on. You can’t just evict me on such short notice. I’m not ready for Clockwork to kick my ass so soon.”

“Go home.”

“I’m not in any rush! I like talking to you. Don’t you—don’t you like talking to me too? In like a scientific way?”

Maddie lowered herself into the chair by the control panel. She leaned forward, arms pooled in her lap, eyes to the floor. “You have a family to get back to, Phantom.”

“It’s—there’s time travel shenanigans! Like I said they don’t even know I’m gone.”

“Every single day, Phantom,” Maddie looked up, eyes stern, “…I wish every single day that my own family would just come back home. I won’t do the same to you. I won’t do the same to your family.”

Phantom said nothing. A somber acceptance sunk into his eyes.

“They’re… alive, you know. In my dimension.”

Maddie dropped her head, and she blinked away the wetness in her eyes.

“I actually… in my dimension I’m kind of closer to the Fentons than I think the, the Phantom in this dimension was. It’s… complex.”

Maddie said nothing. Silence built between them.

“Jazz is um… Jazz is applying for colleges, y-you know. She got in early-acceptance to Yale but um, we all—they all—visited Columbia last month and I think that’s what she wants the most. I can see Jazz in New York City. I think she’d rock it.”

Maddie blinked again. Tears plicked into her lap.

“…Should I stop?”

“Jack… Tell me about Jack.”

“Oh. Yeah he um… big and goofy as ever. He’s got some kind of eight-armed-octogun he’s working on. I know because I was his target practice, involuntarily by the way. He keeps trying to merge “Fenton” and “octopus” together with mixed results. We—Mo-addie—you… are still trying to talk him out of ‘Fentoctopus’.”

Maddie’s ribcage shuddered, a repressed sob, a repressed laugh.

“And Danny?”

“Danny… um… Danny is...” Phantom’s shoulders fell a little bit. He looked away, and then back at Maddie. “He loves you. I know that.”

Maddie blinked, and blinked again, and her eyes wouldn’t clear.

“And are they happy?”

“They’re happy.”

“Am I happy…?”

“You’re…” Phantom’s tail bounced. “You’re happy, I think. I like to think so. I think you’re very happy. You have a great family.”

Maddie nodded.

“Now go.”

“But I still—”

Maddie reached forward, and she grabbed the ecto-gun propped against the control panel. She lifted it into her shoulder, and flicked the safety, and the charge built along the rising whine.

“Go.”

Phantom balked. He blinked. He kicked away from his wall-less cage. “Not forever. I’ll be back. You won’t be alone here forever.”

He was gone.

And Maddie was alone again.

…

Clockwork surveyed the boy in front of him whose head was bowed nearly to the floor, white bangs trailing along cobblestone, hands clasped, apologies repeated, begging case made.

Clockwork ran a hand along his beard, which unfurled, drew back, undid itself with the shifting of his form to a simple child.

“So let’s see. You have the audacity to break my rules andbeg me to meddle on your behalf in the time stream, all in the same breath? Apologies don’t usually come with additional requests for favors.”

“I know,” Danny’s head dipped lower. “You can punish me however you want for touching the restricted timelines but you have to help it, or let me help this one timeline. Please, please just send me back to the Nasty Burger incident so I can save it.”

“It’s already been saved.”

Danny faltered. He looked up.

“You died at the Nasty Burger incident that night,” Clockwork elaborated, form shifting older. “There is no you to ruin that future. That timeline is safe. It’s a very lucky timeline.”

Danny blinked. “N-no. No that’s not what I mean. Save it like you saved my timeline.”

“That did happen. You’re describing your own timeline.”

“I mean do it to THAT one.”

“You are misunderstanding timelines.”

Danny lapsed silent. Worry bled into his eyes, and Clockwork sighed.

“There is no undoing timelines, Danny. There is only forking them by meddling in the stream. All futures and pasts you witness exist, and do exist, and continue to exist,” Clockwork paused, “with the exception of realities I needed to cull, to prevent utter catastrophe.” His gaze fixed on Danny. “The futures that your evil self destroyed, I did have to cull. And culling a reality is not to be done lightly.”

Clockwork motioned with his staff. “There were a handful of surviving realities that I was able to save. That room you meddled in without my permission—they contain the realities off the main track where, for one reason or another, something else succeeded at destroying your future self. …Your own deaths, in fact. In every one of those realities, Danny, you are dead.”

“I don’t…” Danny shook his head. “So then just tell me how to save that one I was in, okay?”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

“How?”

“You don’t.”

Danny said nothing. Clockwork shifted young.

“You can let it live on in that room, or you could ask me to cull it, Danny. You could ask me to cull every reality in that room, so that the main branch, the one you’re from, is the only reality in existence. So you never have to worry about any existence where your family is unhappy. And it will be that way until you, or I, or someone else, meddles with the timestreams again, and more splits occur.”

Still, Danny said nothing. Clockwork continued.

“Sometimes, a mass culling of realities is healthy for the tree of time, like pruning a plant down to its stalk to survive an unforgiving winter, or a terrible disease. But I did that, just recently, to save all of time from the blight of your future self. It would feel cruel to snip off the first buds that have come after the frost.”

Danny lowered himself to the floor.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Just. I have a different question then.” He looked up, a young devastation wet in his eyes. “Can I still go back and visit that reality, sometimes?”

“No. I cannot give you permission to do that.”

“Please!”

Clockwork spun his staff. A portal swirled into being in the space between him and Danny. Washes of color formed patterns, shapes, objects, images. Like a mirror, it reflected Clockwork’s lair beyond its shimmering surface.

“This is a portal back into your own reality. It is set to the location and the time that you vanished. Go there, and leave through the Fenton portal, and nothing will be amiss.”

“No. No no I won’t. Clockwork you have to let me—”

“I am doing you a favor, Danny, getting you home after you caused more trouble. Do not make further demands of me.” Clockwork curled forward, old, sallow skin sagging, and he turned his back to Danny.

“You have to give me permission—”

“I am the only one who has permission to meddle in realities, Danny. This is an absolute.” Clockwork glanced over his shoulder. “And because this is an absolute, I have no reason to have a lock on the room housing those budding other realities.”

Danny blinked.

“I wonder if anyone might break my rules anyway. I wonder if anyone might be nosy, and enter that room anyway, and water the plants in that greenhouse without my permission.” Clockwork stared forward again.

“Clockwork…”

“Luckily I am the master of all time. I would be able to see this coming. And maybe plan for it. If ever such a person would come into my lair, and meddle in my timelines, and try to spread a bit of his own kindness to the realities he couldn’t quite save, I would be fully prepared to stop him.” Clockwork spoke into the green abyss beyond him. “Unless, maybe, I were to accidentally have my back turned.”

Silence trailed after Clockwork’s words. He kept his back to Danny, staring into the abyss of swirling green ether beyond.

“…Thank you,” Danny answered, quietly. “I’ll be back.”

“I imagine you will. Those realities may get lonely without you.”

When Clockwork glanced back over his shoulder, both Danny and the portal were gone.

[myherowritings]

PART 2. LOVE IS FAKE, MARRY A WEALTHY SUITOR

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.5k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. thank u guys for all the positive feedback on this series so far and i really hope u enjoy this chapter too ! ^-^ xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

It seemed your subtle pleas to the gods to see the mysterious businessman again had been answered, since only the day after Shouto gave you a $100 tip, you saw him at the cafe. 

You looked to the skies with a hint of suspicion. This seemed too easy— You were expecting at least a few weeks of your heart pining as you wondered where-oh-where your dreamy customer could have gone. But instead, after a mere 24 hours later, you saw him enter the store in a pair of pressed trousers and a light blue, button up shirt that was rolled just below his elbows. 

Blinking, you drew your attention away from his exposed forearms. You knew he was attractive from your first encounter, but was he always this hot? 

Sadly, you couldn’t focus too much on that since he had to get behind the line and obstruct himself from your view, and you had to take the order of the next customer. 

“Hi! I can take the next person in line.” You smiled. “Good morning! What can I get started for you today?”

After repeating that five or so more times and starting a few drinks on hot bar, you finally reached Shouto’s place and, thankfully, there didn’t seem to be too many patrons piling behind him. 

“Good morning, Shouto!” you greeted when he stepped forward to the counter. “How are you this morning?”

“Better now that I saw you.” 

Your smile faltered as your cheeks heated up, but you tried to brush it off with a laugh. While Shouto had the definite looks of a so-called businessman playboy, his words held none of the flirtatious intonation as one might expect. In fact, he sounded like he genuinely meant it— Like he was only stating a simple fact and had no reason to be shameful. 

It felt both like an attack on your heart and like a refreshing glass of water at the same time. 

“How about you?” he continued. 

“I could say the same thing,” you said with a chuckle, but you found yourself meaning everything you told him. Though you didn’t expect to see him again at the cafe so soon, you couldn’t deny the instant he walked through the doors, your morning felt just a little bit brighter. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, but this is a pleasant surprise.” 

Shouto had the decency to look a little bashful as he averted his gaze slightly. “Yeah. I…really liked the...cheese danishes.” 

Surprised, a small giggle left your lips. “Don’t tell me you finished all three dozen of them!”

“Well…” He looked even more sheepish. “I didn’t exactly… I guess you could say that.” 

“I’m glad you liked them so much you came back for more,” you teased, looking down at the pastries from the oven you just stocked. “Sadly, our fresh pastry today is a chocolate croissant. I can tell my manager to have cheese danishes made again soon though!”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll try the chocolate croissants today then. Maybe five dozen this time.” 

Five multiplied by twelve… A whole 60 chocolate croissants? Were they all for him? You shrugged, not one to judge. If someone wanted to eat 60 croissants, so be it. Though you did hope he wouldn’t eat it all in one sitting. That might give him a stomachache. 

“Alrighty, five dozen chocolate croissants,” you repeated as you typed it into the register. “And would you like any beverages with that? Another flat white maybe?” 

“Actually, I’ll have a large macchiato with two extra shots of espresso this time.” 

You nodded with a hum. “Long day ahead?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“I hope the coffee and croissants can carry you through, Shouto!” you said, wishing his day would go by smoothly. “Will that be all for you today?”

“Thank you, Y/N. I hope so too. And yes, that’s it.”

“Great. $73.24 is your total then! Will you be paying in card again?” 

He nodded. 

“Go ahead and scan and sign when you’re ready.”

You busied yourself by writing his name and order on a large cup and starting the espresso pulls. Your manager was helping get the pastries and other orders ready this morning, so it was nowhere near as hectic as yesterday. 

“Your order will be to your right. It was nice seeing you again, Shouto.” You smiled, giving him a small wave and already wishing you could hold the line up to talk to him longer. “See you tomorrow morning?” you asked almost hesitantly.

He returned your smile with upturned lips of his own. “Yeah. Tomorrow.” Before he left the counter, he pulled out another $100 bill—did he go to a dry cleaners to have his cash steamed and ironed? It was almost ridiculously crisp—and handed it to you. “A tip to show my appreciation for your service.”

“A-Again?” you stammered, eyes wide. That was $200 in two days from just his tip alone. That was more than you made in two weeks when you worked part-time! “Are you sure?”

Whether he had money to spare or not, this was incredibly generous of him and you would never have expected this amount from anyone. And it wasn’t like Shouto made it a scene for everyone in the shop to look at and gawk; he was subtle yet unashamed. Like he wanted to do it for no other reason than to do it. 

“Of course. You deserve it for your work, Y/N.”

The customer behind him made an impatient noise and you winced. You wanted to be able to thank him more, but all you had time for was a simple, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

Shouto nodded in response before walking to the other side of the cafe to wait for his order while you managed the other customers in line, a fuzzy but warm feeling lingering in your stomach from your bizarre interaction. Money or not, you enjoyed seeing him in the mornings and were already looking forward to your brief conversations that would take place the next days to come.

He certainly gave you something to look forward to amidst the inconsiderate customers who barely saw you as human every morning. Sometimes, that was all you could ask for. 

When Shouto left the store and the line had died down towards the end of rush hour, your manager approached you with a curious look on her face. 

“That guy named Shouto…?” Miyazaki said. 

You nodded. 

“A friend of yours?”

“You could say that… We just met yesterday’s morning shift,” you said as you finished up the green tea latte for one of the remaining stragglers from the last hour’s boom. “But he’s really friendly I think.”

“You only recently became associated?” she asked, lifting a brow. “It seemed like you two were quite chummy today.” Then, nudged your side. “He was rather attractive don’t you think? And rich-looking.”

Fumbling with the lid on the beverage, you stifled a surprised cough. Sure, you got along with your boss and thought she was one of the more understanding and kind individuals you have worked under, but gossiping about the looks and potential income of a customer with your 56-year-old manager was not on your bingo sheet as a worker here.

“I…” You called out the order for the latte before turning back to your manager. “He is.”

“Ooh, he’s rich?”

“I meant he’s attractive!” you sputtered, feeling abashed at her blunt words. You thought of the tip he gave you in your pocket and his orders of dozens of pastries. “Rich…maybe so. Not that it matters!” 

Miyazaki tsked. “Of course it matters! Marry rich and your life will be easier. That’s what my mother told me and what her mother told her.” She shook her head. “Should’ve listened.” 

You laughed, feeling only a little awkward. It wasn’t the first time you heard that sentiment from someone older than you. It wasn’t uncommon for family members or even workers you were close to to share that same advice—if you could even call it that.

While you agreed money could make a lot of things easier, marrying someone for wealth didn’t appeal to you. But you recognized that even that may come from a place of privilege to be able to say. 

“He seems like a wealthy suitor for you, yes?”

“Suitor—?” you choked out. “No! I mean— We just met! We don’t know anything about each other really.”

She sighed, “Young people and their obsession with marrying someone they ‘know’ for true love. When do you really know someone anyway?” Waving a hand she changed the topic. “But enough of that. What I wanted to say was next time that man comes in here, we can offer him a complimentary box of a dozen pastries— Since he’s spent so much in so little it feels like the right thing to do.”

“Sure. A complimentary dozen.” Finally. Work. A topic you felt much more comfortable talking about. “That, I can do.” 

“And then maybe offer a hand in marriage while you’re at it.”

“Mrs. Miyazaki!” you gasped, feeling only mildly affronted. 

“I joke.” She ruffled her hair and smoothed down her apron. “I’m going to make more pastries now. Can you hold up the front?” 

“You can count on me.”

“I know I can. Thanks for your hard work!” 

And with that, she headed to the backroom where the kitchen was to leave you alone with your thoughts in a quiet cafe. Rush hour ended so there were only a few customers trickling in, most much kinder and more pleasant to talk to than the bustling businessmen of the earlier shift. 

Throughout your small conversations with the patrons, you found yourself thinking back to two things— One, how interesting traditional values and teachings in collectivist cultures were and questioning where you fell into place with them, and two…wondering about Shouto. 

Tomorrow, he had said before he left. You’d see him again tomorrow. 

Oddly enough, you were looking forward to it more than you’d like to admit. 

— ✩ —

It was the fifth day of the week, the fifth time he had seen you at the cafe, and he was already tempted to see you again. Would it be invasive to get another pastry after work? Would you even be there working at that hour?

Shouto saw you this morning (along with all the other mornings before that) and yet he couldn’t quell the pull he felt towards you with only the short interaction time you had together. But he would take what he could get without being weird. 

He had been told in the past he could be too forward and dysregulate his feelings and scare people off, and that wasn’t something he wanted to risk with you, though he was certainly much better at it now with learning and practice. If he was reading things correctly, you at least seemed to enjoy seeing him during your shift. 

“You got more pastries, sir?” an employee from the medical supplies sector asked him gleefully. “I swear they get better each time!”

Shouto nodded with a smile. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll be sure to relay your compliment.”

With the dozens of pastries he’s been ordering from your cafe (each order seeming to grow every time he visited after realizing just how much his employees enjoyed it), he would place them around the breakrooms and staff kitchens in the establishment. Those areas were always fully stocked with drinks and sandwiches and chocolates in case anyone needed a little boost, but nothing seemed to bring as much comfort as freshly baked pastries did. And a different baked good almost everyday seemed to give people more to get excited about. 

He owed it all to your sales’ pitch and blinding smile that made him want to buy it. And your personality, of course.

His Personal Secretary had started to wonder why she no longer was tasked with his early morning coffee runs, and Shouto had to find a way to answer without saying it was because there was a barista he wanted to keep talking to. 

Not even he was that shameless. 

The first time, his PS had just called in sick and Shouto decided he might as well head to a cafe himself for the first time in a while. He worried he might have been rusty while ordering, but you did such a good job at being welcoming and guiding the transaction that he found himself actually enjoying it. (Enjoying you, maybe. But it was too soon to admit that.) 

And now, after that initial meeting, he decided it was worth half an hour of his day to give his PS some early morning break time and visit the cafe himself. 

It was worth it so much, in fact, that the next morning on a Saturday, despite most of his employees being given the weekend off, he still went to buy some coffee and pastries. 

“Good morning!” an older lady called as he entered the front doors. Shouto had seen her assisting in shifts and baking pastries when you were busy working the cash register. “What can I get started for you today?”

He looked around the store—relatively quiet compared to the rush hour during the weekdays—and to his disappointment, saw no sight of you. 

The current barista laughed, seeming to read his very thoughts. “Looking for someone? Y/N perhaps?”

His gaze shot up, feeling like a kid getting caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to by his guardian. Cautiously, he gave a small nod. 

“‘Fraid they have the weekends off, actually,” the lady—her name tag read Miyazaki—said. “But don’t look so down, they’ll be back on Monday morning to greet you with a smile.”

He nodded again, feeling his face heat up. Was he that transparent or did Miyazaki just know too much? “Thank you, ma’am.”

She chuckled, waving him over. “No need to be so formal. Now, is there anything I can get for you? Or were you just visiting in hopes of asking our dear Y/N out?”

“No— I…” Shouto felt himself averting his gaze. “I’ll order something.”

At his apparent discomfort, her mischievous gaze softened. “Of course, hon. Sorry for teasing too much. I was just excited seeing how adorable you and Y/N were.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, that’s not my business. Anyway. What can I get started for you?”

He asked for a macchiato and a couple dozen of today’s pastries, paid, and tipped. (Though, it was initially met with a blatant rejection. He didn’t take it too hard; he knew some older members of society thought of tips as insulting and he’d never force anyone to take a tip if it made them feel bad. But after offering again, she thankfully accepted it.)

When he left the cafe, although the exchange was pleasant enough, Shouto still found himself disappointed he wasn’t able to see you. 

At least he had something to look forward to next Monday morning, though part of him wished the day would somehow come sooner. 

a/n: hope u enjoyed miyazaki’s words of wisdom u.u FHKDF i’m totally kidding, but if ur asian like me then u kNOW what convos like that are like omg ,, just had my mom and two grandmas tell me that recently :’/ kskskfd but anyway i hope u enjoyed this chapter and liked seeing a glimpse of shouto’s thoughts ;3 tysm for reading!

what to expect in the next part:

more shouto and y/n :>

maybe some ~flirting~ pfft idk idk u.u

some minor...misunderstandings 

“hello, zuko here” vibes

[titularkilljoy]

sometimes and always

//a love story in five acts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: It's hard to resist falling into bed with a cute neighbour, but it turns out it's even harder to resist falling for him. (alternatively- Spencer Reid and the reader struggle to resolve their feelings but make valiant attempts to do so while lying horizontally in each other's beds.)

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, strong language, decidedly non-American spelling conventions

Author's Note: SO. This fic was originally part of a fic swap for the wickedly talented @imagining-in-the-margins, but it is now over six months too late. Thankfully, patience apparently springs eternal in her?? besides all the other amazing things?? Unfair, but good for me. So, Pom, this one is for you. Thanks for being the absolute best and putting up with my rants and not judging me for mocking everything and everyone all the time. Love, Perpetually Tardy.

(i)

This is how it happened the first time.

I was frowning at the pitiful stack of mail in my hands, wondering if the conspicuously missing letters and subscriptions would ever be returned to me. Ever since moving to my new apartment, I had been at the mercy of the Postal System and that was never a good situation to be in. I’d resigned myself to having to take an extra trip back to my old building and do some investigating, when the elevator dinged and I stepped in. Just as the doors slid closed, there was the frantic rumble of footsteps and a hand slipping into the narrowing gap.

The doors sprang apart to let in the harried owner of the appendage, who barely spared me a glance before turning to face the front, eyes briefly darting to the buttons. It took me a second to recognise him. It was the guy from the apartment opposite to mine, although so far that seemed to be only a nominal living arrangement; in my two weeks there, I’d seen him exactly once, merely in passing, and we had exchanged a sum total of zero words.

I followed his lead and stopped blatantly staring at him, though I continued studying him covertly through my peripheral vision. He looked—well, his jawline looked like it could cut glass effortlessly and he had the soft chestnut hair of a male model and I knew I was probably going to develop a very embarrassing crush on him at some point— but besides that, he looked browbeaten, his whole posture seeming to buckle under the invisible weight of the world.

There was an awkward moment when he realised we were both heading in the same direction, and I took it upon myself to break the ice.

“Hi,” I greeted, introducing myself, “I just moved in. I don’t think I’ve seen you around.” I gave him my warmest smile.

His swift assessing glance would have escaped my notice if I hadn’t been paying such close attention; his expression was still shuttered off, but he offered an endearing little quirk of his lips and an introduction. “Spencer Reid. I’ve-uh, I’ve been away on a work thing.”

“Oh? What do you do?” I asked, beginning a leisurely walk down the hallway and fishing my keys out of my bag. I immediately regretted the query when, impossibly, his eyes became even more guarded.

“I’m an FBI agent.”

Well, that clipped admission would have given anyone pause. “Oh, wow. That’s really impressive, dude.”

“Thanks.” He hesitated before adding, “I’m part of the Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

“So, you’re like a psychologist?”

“I catch serial killers.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

The silence wasn’t uncomfortable so much as it was brimming with my insecurities. The alcohol in my blood helped with that, though; the next words were out of my mouth before I even registered the thought.

“Do you want to come in?”

“Oh, uh—”

He was going to say no.

“It’s just that you look like you could use some company. And I think it’s absolutely criminal that we haven’t gotten to know each other yet.”

“It’s really late.”

But he was rocking forwards on his toes just the tiniest bit, leading me to believe that some part of him did want to take me up on my offer that night.

“So it is. Come on, Agent Reid. Be a good neighbour.”

“It’s Doctor, actually,” he corrected. “Doctor Reid. I have Ph.Ds. Three of them.”

My eyebrows had risen to my hairline and, sensing the change in the air, he hurried to put me at ease. “But you can just call me Spencer.”

“Huh. You don’t hear that every day.” I chuckled sheepishly. “Well, come on in, Doctor.”

There was a moment when his whole body leaned towards me and his face looked conflicted but slightly enthusiastic, and I was convinced I could turn the night into a very pleasant one for both of us. Then, with a loud clatter, my keys slipped from my hands, startling us. The moment was broken, and I sighed in resignation.

“Let me guess, you’ve decided I’m too drunk and we’re going to go our separate ways.”

At least he had the good grace to look apologetic. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea right now,” he told me slowly as he bent down to pick up my keys and pressed them securely into my outstretched hand, “It’s late and I’ve had a long day. I’ll...see you around?”

“Sure,” I managed to say with a regretful smile, “I’m holding you to that.”

*~*

That, however, turned out to be easier said than done, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was the Herculean feat of unpacking and organising my new place with a mild hangover and a tinge of frustration over lost opportunities looming over me. Once that was dealt with, the bigger challenge turned out to be actually locating the man in question. I knocked on his door a few times, but when the responding silence continued to persist for over a week, I began to think he’d just been a drunken hallucination in the first place. And the longer I went without any follow-up interactions, the more intensely I started overthinking the slightly fuzzy memory of our brief conversation.

Of course I’d managed to make a fool of myself in front of a really cute guy. That was absolutely in character for me. Every time I passed by his door, I convinced myself a little more that I owed him a sincere apology for my poor, inconsiderate conduct.

Beyond the embarrassment, however, work didn’t leave me much time to think about it, and by the time I was trudging to my apartment the next Saturday, the whole encounter had been relegated firmly to the back burner. Naturally, that was when the faint glow of light under his door distracted me from the very passive-aggressive email I was composing. I hesitated.

The deep breaths I sucked in didn’t serve much more purpose than to make me somewhat lightheaded, but I forged on anyway. I knocked on the door, and waited.

There was silence, followed by the sound of reluctantly shuffling feet, and then, finally, I was face to face with Spencer Reid once again.

“Um,” I started, “hi.”

He stared at me wordlessly for a beat, during which I started to wonder if he’d actually forgotten me already.

“So, we met the other day, and I just want to apologise. I didn’t mean to come on to you so strongly, and I get that you weren’t int-”

“Do you want to come inside?”

“..What?”

“Do you want to come inside?” he repeated, enunciating clearly. That didn’t clear up my confusion, though.

“Um. Yes? Sure. I mean, no, shouldn’t we talk about this a bit?”

He let out a tired laugh. “I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Alright,” I said, biting my lip. I followed him inside, and pushed the door closed behind me; it emitted an innocuous little click as it fell shut.

There was something about the weariness behind his eyes and the careful set of his jaw that made me want to study him and understand what was going through his head, but all I could glean that night was that Spencer didn’t seem amenable to much time spent on documentation.

“So,” I began unsurely, shedding my jacket and scanning the contents of the room, the piles upon piles of books and the distinct lack of much else, “tell me about yourself.”

“Didn’t I already do that?”

“Hmm, that’s not the whole story,” I mumbled, running my fingers over a broken-spined, wrinkled copy of Paradise Lost laid open on a heavy wooden desk. A single smudge of blue ink stood out against the yellowing page, and beside it, the print read: This horror will grow mild, this darkness light. “You’re not just an FBI agent.”

“That’s all that’s important,” he asserted, taking a step towards me. He had one eye on my curiously wandering fingers and, sensing that it was making him more antsy than he needed to be, I tucked my hands into my back pockets, facing him with a grin of false bravado. I really wished I was drunk. That would have made things infinitely easier.

“Besides,” he continued, this time meeting my eyes directly, “I don’t know anything about you either.”

“Fair enough,” I conceded, stepping closer to him.

His eyes didn’t leave mine, until my own strayed to the bobbing curve of his throat and the tantalising motion of his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. Not for the first time that week, I wondered how terrible of an idea it would be to try to kiss my attractive neighbour. I could see my own apprehensions mirrored in his stance, and I saw the exact moment when he identified the focus of my gaze.

I didn’t have to spend much time contemplating. He decided, just as I did, that any consequences of this impulsive decision could be dealt with later.. I lunged for him just as he closed the distance in one long stride, grasping my jaw in both his hands. Then we were firmly attached at the lips, and his arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me closer, seemingly intent on devouring my mouth. Gradually, our actions slowed a bit, the kiss turning softer and more exploratory, our tongues winding around each other gently, my lungs readily accepting his deep, nasal sigh.

His arms around my waist were a steadily spreading band of warmth, and I could feel the growing evidence of his arousal against my thigh. I found myself thinking I could be very happy with just kissing him like this, feeling his breaths tickle my face, letting my hands suffer minute pinpricks from the stubble littering his jaw. But then his grip shifted to my hips and tightened ever so slightly, and it was like I’d been doused with fuel and set alight. My fingers struggled to unbutton his shirt as he pressed distracting kisses along my neck, my soft whimpers breaking the relative silence of the room.

All of a sudden, the ground shifted and my stomach swooped, and it took a second or two before I realised I was now in his arms, being carried towards, presumably, his bedroom. Content, I got to work on undoing the last button and trying to slip the shirt down his arms entirely. He granted me a chuckle for my troubles before laying me down gently on our destination and taking it off himself.

He didn’t waste any time in sinking his knees into the soft mattress on either side of my legs, helping me out of my own clothes and methodically kissing every bit of newly exposed skin, until finally, I was clad only in flimsy cotton and he was nosing at my aching core. With two fingers, he deftly removed the last of my defences and pressed his mouth against me. I moaned, my hands flying to his hair and trying to keep from pulling too hard as he used his tongue to examine every inch of my arousal, evidently experimenting based on the sounds he managed to elicit from me.

“Oh, my God,” I babbled, hips bucking wildly under the iron grip holding them down.

“Tell me,” he demanded, pulling away slightly, “tell me how much you like it.”

“Spencer,” I breathed desperately, “Please. I need- I need more.”

He hummed leisurely against me, frustrating me to no end. My grip in his hair tightened at last, guiding him where I needed him most, and I swear I felt his lips stretch into a smile.

It went on for what felt like hours, but there was no earthly way I could have lasted that long. He took mercy on me eventually, plunging two long fingers deep inside me, closing his lips around the bundle of nerves that, predictably, sent me into a violent, shaking climax. He nursed me patiently through the aftershocks, waiting till my legs had stilled before rising to undo his belt and rid himself of his pants. I was already mourning the loss of his closeness, and I pulled him back on top of me the moment he was within reach.

“Come on, Doctor,” I taunted, “It’s time you made good on your promise and got to the main event.”

“I never promised anything,” he retorted, but the playful glint in his eyes excited me, and while he reached over beside us to the nightstand, I rose to the occasion.

“Oh? Well, if you don’t want to, I guess I’ll just head out, then,” I teased, going so far as to attempt to sit up from underneath him. I felt a low, threatening sound begin in his chest and make its way up his throat as his hands gripped my wrists and brought them down to my sides, pinning me in place.

It was my turn to chuckle at his eagerness, lifting my head to briefly peck him on his lips.

“Don’t worry, Spencer,” I cooed, “I’m not going anywhere. Now fuck me already.”

“With pleasure,” came the response, and while I wondered idly how a smirk could simultaneously be sinister and bashful, there was the sharp sound of crinkling foil, and then he cut off my thoughts by entering me in one fluid motion.

“Fuck!” I cried out, holding him around the shoulders, bringing him impossibly closer.

“That’s it,” he groaned in my ear, “let me hear you.”

He set a torturous rhythm, thrusting into me harshly before pulling out slowly, carefully, making me relish the sensation, anticipation building steadily in the pit of my stomach and spreading until it engulfed me. A ceaseless litany of moans and whimpers filled the air around us, the source of each barely discernible. At last, I could feel myself riding the very precipice, and his name began to fall from my lips like a prayer.

“Spencer,” I called, “Spenc-”

He swallowed the rest of my inconsequential cries, bringing his thumb to where we were joined to guide me over the edge, and as I convulsed around him soundlessly, he reached his own climax, blunt fingernails leaving crescent marks on my hips, his heavy panting breaths stuttering, once, against my clavicle, before calming and slowly evening out.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, my hand combing lightly through his hair, his closed-mouth kisses pressing against my neck like a balm. Eventually, though, we had to move, and it was he who did first. He pulled out and walked away from the bed without looking at me, tossing the tied-up condom in the trash. I sat up, cross-legged, watching him for a bit, pursing my lips when I noticed he was actively avoiding my gaze.

I cleared my throat. “Where’s your bathroom?”

He pointed in a general direction and mumbled something incoherent; sighing in disappointment, I stood up gingerly and went to clean myself up. When I returned, the room still smelled like sex, and Spencer was still evasive, but he was sitting on the edge of the bed now. He looked up when I entered, watching me pick up my clothes.

“Are you alright?” he asked quietly.

I glanced over at him. “Yeah, I’m good. You?”

Nodding, he watched me get dressed, then followed me into the living room and watched me drape my jacket over my arm. Then he watched me walk to the door, all the while not saying a word.

The cool steel of the doorknob in my hand, I looked over my shoulder one more time.

“Well, Spencer. You know where to find me, I guess,” I muttered, shaking my head slightly. Then I left his apartment, and despite the enormity of what had transpired during my visit, the click of the door closing sounded exactly the same.

.

(ii)

Of course, after that, I resolved it would never happen again. The man next door clearly had some issues with what we had done, and I couldn’t be bothered to solve them. It was, frankly, idiotic to jeopardise the prospect of good neighbours in favour of sex, however great it might have been.

It was embarrassing how quickly my resolution packed its bags and jumped out of my third-storey window.

I was awoken the next morning by three firm raps on my door. I think I knew, somehow, who was trying to get my attention, so I took my time, but the reveal of Spencer’s regretful face didn’t surprise me any less. I was wary as I stared at him wordlessly, cycling through all the possible reasons for his visit, and his eyes dropped to the way my arms tightly hugged my midsection. He winced then, meeting my eyes.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” he blurted, and it sounded so rehearsed that I had to stifle a guffaw. There was a flicker of something in his eyes that could have been frustration, but he powered through. “I’ve had a pretty terrible week at work and I think I was trying to get something out of my head. But I was awful to you, and it was completely my fault. I’m sorry if I offended you. I had...a great time.”

I’d been watching him carefully throughout his speech, and if he was faking the earnestness in those last couple of lines, he was an extraordinary actor. I concluded, as I studied the apologetic slump of his shoulders and the dark bags into which his eyes had sunken, that I didn’t need to worry about the veracity of his words.

“It’s okay,” I said hesitantly. “I mean, no, it’s not okay, it felt really awful, but thanks for explaining. I get it now.”

“Oh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking off to the side, “that’s great. Thank you.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“Problem?” I was bemused.

“No!” He was looking back at me, now. “I- well, to be honest, I wasn’t expecting it to be this easy. I thought I’d have to convince you.”

“Huh. Well, you can still convince me, Doctor. Give me a second to get ready. You’re buying me breakfast.”

I quite liked the shy smile that graced his face in response.

*~*

It kept happening. There was no way I could have stopped it, and there was no reason I would have wanted to.

We quickly grew into a familiar rhythm. Each time, it started with one of us having a particularly stressful day. Each time, it started with a knock on the door and some perfunctory shuffling around. Before wasn’t the time for talking. Each time, we’d stumble into whichever surface was closest, and every time it wasn’t the bed, Spencer would make some halfhearted protests about germs and hygiene, before I shut him up very effectively with a manicured hand on his dick. Each time, in the During, I marvelled at how well we fit together, how quickly we’d learned each other’s bodies, and each time, I saw more of him than I had the last.

And I loved every bit of it.

Spencer no longer retreated into his shell in the After. He’d try sometimes, but I knew how to coax him out, now. I’d slip my hand into his, ever so gently, and wait. Or I’d sling one arm around his waist until he returned the embrace. I was getting scarily good at reading him. It was like working on an intricate puzzle, and every new achievement was rewarded with a deeper, longer look into his mind.

I carefully stored away every casual anecdote about someone from work or his godson or his mother, and I loved to watch the life burn bright in his eyes. Of course, they were all happy stories. I could sense the bittersweet aftertaste they left in his mouth, but he never let me inspect it too closely. In turn, I regaled him with tales of my own, of my sister and my parents, of my cat that was perpetually falling asleep on top of me. I told him all the easy, palatable things, holding back just as much as he did, always careful to maintain the wall of superficiality.

But things did slip through the cracks every once in a while, from both of us-- they were bound to, what with the sheer amount of time we spent together in various states of undress. Things that made me burn with curiosity that couldn’t be sated without jeopardising the very foundation of our arrangement. So I turned a blind eye to the jagged scars on his thigh and neck when he failed to maneuver to hide them; in return, he kept mum when I walked into his apartment, on the day of my worst professional disaster, with runny makeup and bloodshot eyes, shivering all over.

If he noticed that I kissed the skin over his scars a little more tenderly, lavishing attention on him the first time I saw them, he didn’t show it. If he liked the way I always nuzzled my face into the one on his neck when we were done, he didn’t show it.

For my part, I tried very hard not to read into the slow, shallow thrusts or the almost reverent way he handled me when my tears still hadn’t dried. I definitely did not read into the arm over my shoulder or the slightly baffled crease in his brow while we sat on his couch with a random episode of The Office.

And if, maybe, the frequency of his visits increased as the months went by, who could blame him? He was an FBI agent. He probably had a lot of bad days.

Sometimes, though, I’d go over when I’d had a good day and I felt like celebrating. Sometimes, I’d knock on his door just because I was bored and I wanted to see him. It wasn’t as if he would know the difference. Our bodies knew how to be around each other, and that was all that mattered.

This was just stress relief, after all.

(“Have you ever been in love?” I asked him once, abruptly, my heart still pounding as the sweat cooled on our skins.

He glanced at me warily, but he must have detected only honest curiosity on my face, not lovesickness or anything else that would have had him running for the hills.

He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Once.”

“What happened?” My finger traced an aimless pattern on his chest.

“She loves me,” he said, “but she isn’t in love with me.”)

We never articulated any feelings we may or may not have about each other or our situation. We dodged sincere conversation like it would kill us. So all the pieces we owned of each other were ones that we had been remiss in guarding diligently. That only made them all the more precious.

But on the heels of every stolen glance, there was a moment where he looked right through me, where I felt blank and insubstantial, like I was a placeholder for something or someone, and that would be enough for the wall to be between us again, rigid and unrelenting.

It was a shame that I was stupid enough to hold on to the scraps that fell through anyway.

.

(iii)

I was an immensely stupid person.

That was the only explanation for why I was leaning against the outer wall of our apartment building at three in the morning, desperately shoving my hands into my coat pockets to brace against the cold.

“You don’t have to be here.”

Can he read minds now? I wondered sullenly. Spencer was sitting on the front steps, with his head in his hands. His hair was dishevelled, and his eyes were the picture of torment. I would have loved to console him, but every attempt so far had been firmly rebuffed.

He had knocked on my door an hour ago and silenced my greeting with a bruising kiss. Of course, I knew how to do that dance, but Spencer had been off his rhythm tonight. When I’d reached for his shirt, he’d pushed my arms away. When I had kissed his jaw, he'd flinched. When I’d finally retreated in concern to ask him what was wrong, he had huffed out that he was perfectly fine, before trying to lift my shirt over my head.

I’d pushed him onto the bed and tried to distract him, and he had responded by clenching the sheets in his fists instead of grabbing my hips. I’d whispered his name in his ear the way he usually loved, and he’d climbed out from under me, sitting up on the bed with his chest heaving. At that point, I’d given up. What had followed was an exercise in patience.

(“Spencer, what’s wrong?” I’d asked again, to no avail.

“It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it,” he’d gritted out, glaring at me.

I’d sighed. “Okay, which is it? Nothing, or that you don’t want to talk about it?”

Silence.

“Well something is clearly bothering you. Am I just supposed to ignore that?”

“We don’t need to talk about anything.” He’d tried to kiss me again. That time, I was the one who pushed him away.

“No, Spencer, this isn’t working. I don’t think we should do this tonight.”

The glare had intensified. “Fine.” He’d gotten up and tried to put his shirt back on, but his hands were shaking.

Cursing my investment in this man, I’d helped him while he stared daggers at me. When he’d hunted down his shoes and made his way out of my apartment, I’d pulled on my coat and followed, petting my cat briefly when he tried to follow us.)

So now we were outside, experiencing the most awkward silence ever known to man. Every time I attempted to put a hand on his shoulder or sit beside him, he would tense up yet again.

“Yes, Spencer,” I replied at length, “I do. You look like you might accidentally walk into traffic. I’m not leaving.”

“It’s not your problem.” The petulance was beginning to get on my nerves. I hadn’t signed up for sleepless weeknights.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” I told him, shrugging.

I pulled out my phone to distract myself with the cute animals in my game. Spencer was still worryingly silent. But if he didn’t want to talk to me and he wouldn’t let me near him, there was little I could do but stand there.

Every now and then, his breathing would hitch, and I would study him out of the corner of my eye. Whether he fully registered my presence or not, I was unsure, but he seemed to be calming down. He looked less on edge, his eyes less wild, and I was about to approach him and try again, when a black car pulled up just ahead of us.

Both our heads jerked to attention, but the petite blonde who exited the car only had eyes for Spencer.

“Spence!” She rushed to him, pulling him into a hug that he slowly reciprocated. “Your phone is off. After what happened, I was so worried,” she murmured into his hair, her eyes shut in relief.

And Spencer-- Spencer’s face was something to behold. His eyes were tightly closed, his lips turned down unhappily, and his face was so naked and open that I almost looked away. Almost. The pain that shone there riveted me. I felt as if I could see every wound he had ever suffered, in that instant. He’d never shown me that before. And he still hadn’t-- this wasn’t for me. The embrace broke, but his face stayed the same while the woman fussed over him.

Something came back to me, a fragment of a memory. She loves me but she isn’t in love with me. Unbidden, a sound of realisation escaped my throat, drawing two pairs of eyes to the dark corner in which I had been so far obscured.

Spencer schooled his face back to some semblance of normalcy, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Uh, JJ, this is--”

“Leaving,” I blurted out, then cleared my throat. “I was just leaving. Work in the morning. Nice to meet you.” I tried to smile at her, but it felt more like a pained grimace.

I brushed past both of them, but hesitated on the top step. “Spencer…”

His gaze was inscrutable, and I was too tired to try to decipher it.

“Feel better,” I mumbled, and then I left them there.

*~*

I was not sulking.

I told myself this as I lounged on the couch in my most comfortable pyjamas, stuffing my face with junk food and watching Michael Scott lament his foot injury.

So what if Spencer was in love with a beautiful blonde while getting him to talk to me was like pulling teeth? It wasn’t like I’d been carrying a torch for him. We were just extremely compatible sexually. And in very close proximity to each other. That put us in the ideal position to hook up whenever we needed it. That was the extent of our relationship. For all I knew, he’d been sleeping with other people this whole time. I hardly had the right to protest it if he had. We hadn’t set up rules. We just fell into bed together as and when we liked.

It was a good, uncomplicated thing.

So I needed to make sense of whatever needless jealousy I was feeling, before I ruined it. I couldn’t sit around being pathetic. I had a life.

There was a knock on the door.

Sighing, I turned off the TV and put the snacks away. Spencer was quiet as I let him in. His eyes roamed the small living room as if he didn’t know his way around my place as well as he did his own. I perched on the arm of the couch and stared at him, hoping my face didn’t betray the rollercoaster of emotions I’d experienced over the last forty-eight hours.

“So,” I started, “you okay?”

He looked a bit startled, as if he hadn’t expected me to address it at all. I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Yeah. I’m alright.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I prompted, “It was pretty intense.”

“It-uh, it was a work thing. JJ helped me out.”

Of course she did. “Great,” I said aloud.

We looked at each other for a beat. “She’s the one, isn’t she?” I blurted before I could stop myself.

“What?”

“The one you’re in love with?”

There was a telltale spot of red high on his cheeks, even as he sputtered. “That’s not-- I mean, yes, but that was--”

“It’s fine,” I said cheerily. “I was just curious.”

He frowned at me. “She’s my best friend, it’s not--”

“No, I get it.” My stomach was somewhere near my feet. “So, do you wanna fuck?”

Again, he seemed taken aback. “What?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” I directed my gaze at his meticulously polished shoes.

“No.” A pause. “I just wanted to say-- would you look at me for a second?”

I forced myself to comply.

“I, uh, I wanted to thank you. For staying with me the other night.” The sincerity in his eyes was a bit too much to bear at the moment.

I hadn’t done anything, and I told him as much.

“You didn’t have to. Just being there was more than enough.”

“Right,” I said hollowly. “So is that it?”

“Yeah.” He seemed very lost. “Um, are you okay?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re acting kind of strange.”

“That’s because there isn’t usually this much talking,” I snapped.

I longed to smooth out the lines on his face and make him feel at ease again. This was supposed to be the good, uncomplicated thing. He was apparently making an effort. I could return the favour.

“I’m sorry,” I said, letting out a deep breath and rubbing a hand over my face. “Can I get you something to drink? We can talk about it if you want. Or just hang out.” I tried to squash down the hope that bloomed in my chest.

“Oh. Sure, if that’s okay.” He was chewing on his lip again, and it was unfairly appealing.

And so he stayed. I got two mugs of coffee, and when I came back, he was on my couch reading a well-worn paperback, as if he belonged there. I had to agree with the thought. When he heard me enter the room, he looked up with a smile.

When he left three hours later, I couldn’t remember what we’d talked about or the name of the book he’d abandoned within minutes, but I remembered the way he’d leaned close to me while gesturing wildly with his hands, and I remembered that we hadn’t touched beyond accidental brushes of our fingers the entire time.

He still hadn’t revealed the source of his despair, and I knew there was someone he loved. I knew whatever this was, it would be temporary.

But the smile on my face as I closed the door was real.

.

(v)

Spencer kept coming over. I was never given the chance to initiate contact because it seemed like he was always at my place. Whenever he was in the city, he would be with me. I started to worry about his apartment gathering cobwebs from the disuse. But I couldn’t honestly complain about this new development.

Sometimes we had sex, and sometimes we didn’t. Sometimes he came in sore and tired, other times he was brimming with excitement with a playful grin. Sometimes he was angry at the world and I was allowed to coax him down from his rage. Those nights were in turn infuriating and thrilling.

(“What happened?”

“Work.”

“That’s really helpful, Spencer, care to elucidate?”

“No.”

“Okay, caveman.”

“Shut up and take off your clothes.”

I’d rolled my eyes and complied.)

I enjoyed every bit of him. I wanted to observe and chart every one of his moods and his little quirks. I loved the small pile of his books that had found their way onto the coffee table. I loved introducing him to pop culture that he approached with the same diligence as he would a textbook of quantum physics. He was an eager student, and I attempted to return the favour whenever he launched into his obscure tirades.

Some nights I would drowsily let him in and he would crawl into bed with me, fully clothed. The following mornings, I would wake up with a silly grin on my face, seeing him utterly relaxed and at peace. We’d have breakfast in my kitchen and slowly come awake together over our steaming mugs of coffee.

It was fun, learning him.

In the dead of night, as I was drifting off to sleep, he would tell me bits and pieces of horrible things he’d had to see. All I could offer him then was a tight, protective embrace and a steady gaze as the words clawed their way out of his reluctant throat. It felt like he was giving me some sort of twisted boon, these revelations of his pain. I collected them just as carefully as I did everything else. If it was a part of him that was freely given, I knew I wanted it.

At intervals, I would have to remind myself that he wasn’t truly emotionally available. It wasn’t hard. I only had to picture JJ’s relieved smile and the raw uncloaked expression on his face that I had never seen again. He mentioned her every now and then, and I’d discovered that his godson was her child. He never seemed upset, talking about her family, but he wasn’t the kind of man who would resent another’s happiness, even if it was at the expense of his own. I knew that now. I still remembered the way he would pull away from me and flinch at my touch, and I knew I was playing a losing game. There was no way out of this where I didn’t get hurt. All I could do was try to control it.

Three months after that night outside our building, I knew I’d fallen for him.

I was in trouble and I needed to do something about it, quickly. So I stopped preemptively cancelling plans with my friends and coworkers. I joined a book club. I called in a guy to loudly fix my bathroom sink the day I knew Spencer would be getting home. I even got a gym membership. I tried to be away from home as much as I could.

Whenever Spencer texted me, I would let him know I was unavailable. His texts got progressively more frustrated. Watching the excitement on his face dim when I turned him away at my door was painful. But it was necessary. I convinced myself that when Spencer and I stopped existing in this vacuum without other people, my feelings would weaken and I would be able to get him out of my head.

It didn’t work, of course, and I spent every day missing him. I tried to distract myself with work and my suddenly-full schedule, but the feelings were still there. Try as I might, I couldn’t stop thinking of him every morning and every night, and every time I passed his door and every time I walked by a bookstore.

So when Neil from work asked me out a week later, I said yes.

I wore a nice dress and heels, and he picked me up. We went to a midscale restaurant and talked about boring first-date things, and I knew within the first fifteen minutes that I didn’t want to see him again. I went through the motions, smiled pleasantly at him, and told him I would take a cab home. When I walked dejectedly up to my apartment, it took me a second to realise what I was looking at. My heart leapt and I dropped my keys.

Spencer was sitting on the floor outside my door, and he looked tireder and older than I’d ever seen him. He had looked up at my approach. I froze.

“Spencer.” I hadn’t seen him in a month.

He looked me up and down, and there was an unhappy tilt to his mouth. I wanted to kiss it away. He reached for the keys and rose to his feet.

“Hi.” He held them out to me, and I wanted to laugh and the eerie reflection of our first meeting.

“Hi,” I echoed.

“Were you on a date?”

There was no point in lying to him. “Yes.”

He looked away, his jaw clenching.

Silently, I unlocked the door and held it open. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked in.

He paced the floor of my living room. I took off my shoes and put my keys on the table, waiting for him to speak. I felt out of sorts and unprepared for what was to come. Even when I heard him come to a halt, I didn’t lift my gaze to meet his.

“Why would you-- I thought we had something.” His tone was heavy with accusation.

I stared back at him in challenge. “Sure. We had something. But I didn’t want to fool myself into thinking it was more than it was.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Us! You. You send me all these mixed signals, and I know you’re still hung up on someone else but I let myself get in too deep anyway. I had to protect myself.”

“I’m not hung up on someone else,” he shouted, raising his hands in frustration.

“Of course you are!” I matched his volume. “You told me so yourself.”

“When did I do that?” He sounded honestly bewildered.

“A few months ago. You said you were in love with someone but she didn’t love you back. And then I saw you with JJ that day. I know it’s her. It’s okay. You didn’t promise me anything.”

Feeling drained, I wrapped my hands around my middle. The tears were threatening to fall, but I tried to hold them at bay. This would be over soon. It all would.

“JJ--” he barked out a laugh, surprising me.

“What about this situation is funny to you?” I demanded.

“No, listen--”

“You’re hot and you’re cold. You kick me out right after our first time and then you’re sweet the next day. How do you want me to feel about that?”

“I’m sorry about-”

“Trying to talk to you is impossible! I want to help you. But you clearly don’t want to talk to me!”

“That’s not--”

“And then you’re over here all the time, and I get that it’s because you want to distract yourself, but you have to know how it would con--”

“God, would you just shut up and listen to me for once?”

I glared up at him. He was undeterred, a strange glint in his eyes.

“I love you,” he informed me, striking me dumb. “It took me a while to realise it, but it’s true. I love you.”

All I could do was gape at him as he walked closer to me and took my tightly clenched fists in his hands. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was holding back. I’m trying to be better. And I don’t know what you thought you saw between me and JJ,” he said very slowly, stroking his thumbs gently over my palms, “but all that’s there is a lot of trauma and shared experiences. Yes, I thought I loved her once, but that was a long time ago. We’ve never-- she’s not you.”

Traitorously, that tendril of hope began to coil around my heart again as I searched his face, looking for a trace of a lie.

I found none.

I surged forward, crashing my lips to his with no finesse and too much force, but he was ready for me, releasing my hands and cradling my waist instead. I gripped his hair, letting the tears spill at last, an overjoyed laugh bubbling out of my throat and into his mouth. I let my hands roam the hard plane of his body, the delicious ripple of wiry muscle beneath his shirt, the hidden softness that only I could feel.

“I love you,” I told him when we broke apart for air. “I’m glad I can tell you, I love you, I fucking love you.” Spencer grinned down at me, and the look was so fond I had to kiss him again.

The rest was a blur of hastily discarded clothes and the steadfastly ignored pain of knocking into furniture before we finally found my bed and tumbled into it.

(“All this time, I could have had you,” I groaned into his ear while he thrust his fingers into me, mouthing along my jaw.

“You have me,” he promised into my skin an eternity later, when he was inside me and my nails were scrambling for purchase along his back, my vision going white.)

That night, there were no painful confessions or taunting insecurities. There were just the two of us, blissfully entwined together, and the deepest of dreamless sleeps. Somewhere in the middle of falling out and falling back together, we had found our new rhythm.

.fin.

[aminiatureworld]

Disappearance II

Character: Albedo, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,149

Warnings: None

Premise: In which there is an argument and the reader disappears.

Author’s Note: Idk why I’ve characterized Albedo as a slob twice now. I guess I just think he’s the kind of person to become so engrossed in his research he just, never takes care of himself or his surroundings.

Also this was supposed to be two people but I procrastinated terribly so… here we are haha. Part three tomorrow.

Albedo

It was the third time this week that you had managed to spill his lab notes all over the floor, and frankly Albedo wasn’t sure if he could deal with it any longer.

“You’ve got a lot of papers strewn around,” you said, tone light and joking as you crouched to gather all the papers up.

“You’re the one that keeps bumping into things,” Albedo mumbled, crouching next to you to make sure that you put things back in order.

Seeing that you were putting things together haphazardly he snatched up the papers, frowning slightly as he went through the papers. Honestly, how could you mess up his system so much? As much as Albedo appreciated your interest in his work you were a Knight of Favonius, not a scientist, and as such your visits seemed to cause havoc more than anything else.

“Do you want me to help you with that?” You asked, exasperation creeping into your tone.

“No.”

“Are you sure? You seem, stressed. If you want I could pick up the papers on the tables and organize.”

“Don’t!”

“Albedo?” You leaned back slightly, as if surprised. For some reason that only made the alchemist more irritated.

“If you do that, you’ll just be creating more work for me. I’m very busy right now, I don’t have time to go back and fix your mistakes.”

“Mistakes?”

“It’s already enough that you keep spilling things all over the ground.”

“It’s not my fault that you leave your papers everywhere without even trying to keep them organized.”

“They are organized!”

“Well they certainly don’t look organized to me.”

“You just don’t understand. Besides, I’ve managed not to knock everything over.”

“You know, you’re insufferable when you get like this.”

“I’m not any different than usual.”

“I hope you don’t really think that,” you replied, tone clipped.

Standing up you turned towards the door. Though Albedo made a half-hearted call of your name you didn’t react, simply walking out of the room and slamming the door as hard as possible behind you.

Albedo didn’t even think of you the rest of the afternoon. Anger iced over his slight worry, replacing it with a burning sense of resentment. Your sudden departure stung, and, though it was admittedly childish, Albedo found himself determined not to worry about you.

Besides, you were simply an obstacle to his research at this point. Maybe it was better if you went off to cool your head somewhere, then he could finish up his work. That was what usually happened with other people anyways. Apprentices, clients, the occasional wandering alchemist; they all fluttered around him until he couldn’t stand it and then when they inevitably got fed up he’d finish his work. His relationship with you was still new, and though he couldn’t say that you were the same as all those people in his eyes, he really had no reason to think you would react in a different way.

The sun had gone down long before Albedo finally locked up for the night. It had taken him a good forty minutes to reorganize everything that had fallen, though admittedly most of that time was spent in angry silence. Now as Albedo walked down the streets, still busy with night activity, he wondered what might happen when he got home. He certainly wasn’t ready to apologize, even if his tone was a bit curt his words weren’t wrong; but he couldn’t exactly see you apologizing either. It was bound to be a tense evening. One Albedo was certainly not looking forward too.

All the lights were off in the apartment, something that struck Albedo as odd. Walking towards the kitchen he found a piece of paper crumpled up on the kitchen floor, though when he uncrumpled the paper he was met with eraser marks. Letting out a huff of impatience Albedo went to put some water on the stove. So this is how the evening was going to pass; you presumably at a friend’s house, Albedo in stony silence.

“How petty,” Albedo murmured.

He didn’t expect such a show of emotions from you, having come to the conclusion that you were quite the rational sort. Really, this was all too much. He had been in the right after all, even if he had been a bit cold about it. There was no reason to react in such a way. It was this mindset that carried Albedo through the rest of the evening and off to sleep. After all, it was better than the kernel of doubt that rested in the back of his head, that told him he was the one being callous.

You didn’t show up at the apartment or the lab the next day. Albedo buckled down to work, but by midday the irritation and anger that he’d been holding over were replaced by a deep sense of unease. Hurrying home after work he felt panic shoot through him at the sight of your home empty, nothing suggesting anyone had been there in the time he was at work.

It took all of Albedo’s willpower not to run out the door and go look for you. All the anger and irritation he had felt had been thrown out the window, replaced instead with an intense feeling of worry, and of the realization that his actions might bear actual consequences.

Tossing and turning in bed Albedo stared up at the empty ceiling. He had been certain he was in the right, even this morning. You were clumsy, you had been inconsiderate of his work, you were simply stubborn and petty. Now however he replayed your argument, your fight, over and over again. The more he did so the more he became aware of how harshly he’d acted; the more he wished you would simply appear in front of him so he could apologize. He wanted to go after you, wanted to let you know that he genuinely felt bad. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to do so, to go after you. After all, what if you didn’t want to see him? What if he just made things worse? Once more turning in bed Albedo sighed. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d see you again. Tomorrow he’d make things better.

There was no sight of you tomorrow either. Albedo stood in his lab in stunned silence, heart hammering in his chest as he contemplated what this could possibly mean. Was this it then? Had he messed up that badly?

Staring around him Albedo noticed all the papers scattered this way and that on the tables and the desks. Seized by a sudden urge he scooped them all up, carrying them over to where he kept his files. A part of him jeered that it was too little too late, but still the alchemist didn’t stop until everything was filed away properly. Turning around to look at his desk he collected the dirty mugs and discarded equipment, putting them in the sink before turning around to pick through the no longer needed papers that still lay sprawled around the room. He didn’t stop for lunch, nor did he go to start back up on the experiment he was currently working on. Instead he kept picking up and putting away and rearranging. It was almost a ritual of some sort, and though it brought little relief, at least it finally brought distraction.

Still that distraction was shattered the minute Albedo stepped outside. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, and the people of Mondstadt were still wandering around, enjoy the cool summer evening. Staring at the people around him, their eyes filled either with purpose or contentment, Albedo realized he couldn’t go home. He couldn’t face the empty apartment again. He thought that his anger would last longer, that he might go a week before feeling as if he burning from the inside out; but now he knew that that had been an arrogant, if somewhat funny, assumption. Turning away from the familiar path home he climbed up the steps of Mondstadt. He knew where he needed to go.

Walking up to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters Albedo was met with the sight of Eula, arms firmly crossed in front of her, faced even colder than usual. Hurrying over to your higher-up Albedo felt uncertainty bloom in his chest. Someone this seemed to bode ill.

“Eula?”

“Ah, the Head Alchemist. What do you wish to say to me?”

“Have you seen my partner?” Albedo paused, somewhat unwilling to reveal what had happened. “They haven’t been home for days, and I wondered if you knew where they might be staying.”

The look on Eula’s face was one of pure disbelief. “You, you don’t know what happened?” Her face shadowed over and she seemed to pull herself up. “If I were your partner, I would declare eternal vengeance for your idiocy. I don’t know what you’ve been doing Head Alchemist, but while you were off doing whatever it is you do, your partner was languishing underground.”

Albedo froze, unsure if he’d truly heard Eula right. The Knight tended to be quite flowery after all with her words. Perhaps this was just a metaphor he couldn’t understand.

“I see that it still hasn’t gotten through your head what happened.” Eula sighed, relaxing slightly. “I sent them off to monitor a few Fatui members, as it seems a group had made their way out of Dragonspine and into Windwail. While doing so they attempted to hide in a small crack in the mountains, but there was a steep drop after that onto the next shelf. Thankfully Amber had also been ordered to scout there, or else who knows how long it might have took to realize they were stuck. I just got the report from them, thankfully there was no lasting trauma.”

“W-where are they?”

“At home I presume. Aren’t you their partner?” Eula tilted her head. “Really, perhaps she should declare a need for vengeance.” And with that the Spindrift Knight walked into the Headquarters, leaving Albedo reeling on the step, heart thudding as if he’d just run a hundred miles.

Albedo practically fell down the steps of Mondstadt, so desperate was he to find you, to make sure you were okay. Eula had said that there was no lasting trauma, but what that meant Albedo was completely unsure of. Had you broken anything? Had you been deprived of oxygen? These thoughts catapulted through Albedo’s brain, constricting his lungs and plunging him into a roil of incoherent emotions.

The sight of you standing in front of his lab cause Albedo to stop in his tracks. For a moment the alchemist was overwhelmed by his emotions, switching between dizzying euphoria, terrible guilt, and unending worry. He took a step forward, then another, walking slowly down the stairs, as if in fear that you might disappear or turn away. However instead of turning away when he reached the end of the steps and made his way towards the fountain you let out a sort of shudder, running towards him and throwing your arms around his neck. Albedo wrapped his arms around you in turn, feeling slightly overwhelmed from the sudden proximity, the sudden feeling of once more being able to feel your skin against his. Letting his head drop onto your shoulder Albedo breathed in deeply, centering himself with your presence, grounding himself in the knowledge that the agony of the previous days was finally over.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“For what?” You whispered back.

“For not listening to you, for blaming you, for being cruel.”

“I’m also sorry.”

“Why? I was in the wrong.”

“Well, I just went off without telling you where I was going. I was going to write a note, but I was so angry I erased it.” You tightened your grasp around Albedo. “I wish I could’ve seen into the future. I never would have done something like that.”

“I don’t care about that,” Albedo ran small circles around the small of your back. “I’m sorry.”

“You already said that.”

“No. I’m sorry for not being there, for not being able to help you; for doing nothing while you…” he stopped, unable to finish the sentence.

Pulling back for a moment you cupped Albedo’s face in your palms, studying his expression. Finally you bent over to press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I forgive you,” you whispered, breath mingling with his.

Albedo leaned into to kiss you once more, finding that his emotions were blocking out any words he might have been able to say. Everything seemed so surreal, as if he’d been stuck in some awful nightmare that only now faded away. And yet this wasn’t a nightmare, this was reality; and Albedo would have to remember that.

For now though, he only wanted to wipe all the fear and conflict away.

[luvyanfei]

anon said. how about fluffy hcs with xiao, zhongli and xingqui taking their s/o out on a first date?

XIAO.

he already finds it difficult just to ask you to hold him without losing his cool, so how can he possibly bring up the idea of inviting you on a date? actually, he probably never knew the word ‘date’ even existed until he heard a passing couple staying over at wangshu inn dreamily talking about how they wish they could go to see the lantern rite festival in liyue harbor together for their first date. a first date, huh? now that he thinks about it, xiao never did properly try to court you, did he? it was always you who approached him first, who held your hand out to him, who confessed that you love him. you’re already giving so much dedication in this relationship. it’s the least he can do to return your affections, not just because he’s feeling a bit indebted, but because he’s your lover. unfortunately, being the awkward yaksha that he is, xiao overthinks the situation and complicates it more than he should.

every chance he gets is blown up by his anxiousness. whenever you come and visit him at the inn, you almost think that he’s angry with you from the way he throws you vicious glares. unbeknownst to you, xiao is actually making that tense face because he’s trying very hard, too hard in fact, to think of the best way to ask you out on a date and seeing you just makes him all the more nervous. he regrets it every time you step into the elevator while giving him a goodbye wave and saying you’ll come visit again. sure, he gets another chance to try and ask you out again, but he also has another chance to fail as well.

when you visit him for lunch, xiao quickly rehearses the words he wants to say to you in the back of his head before coming to greet you. ‘i overheard from a guest in the inn talking about a lantern rite festival. if you mortal, no, [name], desires to go, i can possibly set aside time to accompany you.’ keep it cool, yet short. taking a deep breath to compose himself, xiao walks over to greet you, er, well actually, you’re the one doing the greeting instead, and you settle down to eat. the sweet taste of the almond tofu that you generously bought for him blossoms in his mouth and he loses track of time till your departure. before you leave once more to allow the poor yaksha to wallow in his self-regret again, you stop yourself and turn around to face xiao. tucking your hair behind your ear and giving your best, most radiant smile you can offer to him, you shyly ask if he’d like to tag along with you to the lantern rite festival. “we’ve never been on a date before and i’d love to go to the festival with you and release xiao lanterns together.”

... what? how? his mouth almost opens up in disbelief, as he struggles to keep a stoic expression. ex-excuse him?! that’s supposed to be his line! he’s in shock at how easily you were able to say something that he’s been having trouble sputtering out. you mortals never fail to surprise him. he shakes his head and bitterly scowls, that you almost step back in fright. almost, until he starts speaking, that is. “why is it you? i should have been the one to ask you on a date first, not you!” he’s almost on the brink of tears from the frustration he currently holds on himself. 

a relationship is always about give and take, no? it’s like when zhongli has so kindly decided to save him from the clutches of the cruel abuse he endured endlessly, of course he was forever in debt to rex lapis. surely, it’s the same with you, isn’t it? when xiao tells you this, you immediately start laughing. you calmly explain to him that your relationship isn’t like a form of contract where he’s expected to always repay you back for every gift you give to him. as long as he’s there for you, that’s more than enough of a reward, you say, before plopping a chaste kiss to his cheek.  

“finally, you’re here. what took you so long?” xiao speaks to you with indifference concealing the relief that you actually came. he trails his sharp eyes to inspect your dressed up form and blushes slightly. “you look nice.”

immediately, your eyes widen at his underhanded compliment. did- did you hear that right? biting his lower lip gently, xiao clasps your hand in his, ignoring your astounded reaction, as he squeezes it reassuringly while watching the colourful fireworks light up the murky night.

without thinking, he turns to you when you’re focused on the display of bursting lights reflecting in your eyes, and murmurs to himself softly, “i hope you’ll spend the rest of your time with me, for however long it’ll last.”

XINGQIU.

of course, a date with xingqiu has to be extravagant and sophisticated to the last touch, right? guess again. he may come from a wealthy family, but that doesn’t mean he shares the same interest a selfish, pampered noble may have. he prefers something more simple, yet sentimental. confined in his household with nothing to do but bury his head in a book, he’s picked up some ideas for your date from the romance stories he’s read. surprisingly, they’re all rather cliché.  

the first thing he makes you guys do is go out in the blazing summer day to get yourselves a cool beverage. he explicitly asks the cashier to give him one straw [do they even exist in the game?] and smiles slyly as he thanks them and brings the drinks to you. when you ask about it, thinking that maybe he forgot, all he does is smirk before saying, “there’s no need, my liege. we can share, unless you’d rather melt in the sweltering sun, that is.” he winks teasingly. you... don’t really have much of a choice in the matter. as you stroll around the harbor together, you take turns drinking from the only straw and a wave of consciousness washes over you gradually. wait, isn’t this like an indirect kiss? you place a hand to your gaping mouth after sucking on the straw that xingqiu pressed his lips on merely seconds ago. you should know by now, how bold he is underneath his polite façade. 

after you finish sipping your drink - tediously at that, you both agree on going to the library to read books together since the heat is pretty unbearable to do anything enjoyable. xingqiu recommends you to try reading some of his personal favorites and you do the same as well. he’s thrilled to have a reading buddy now since it’s boring being here by himself. 

while you’re immersed in the novel that you randomly picked from the bookshelf, every now and then, xingqiu will look up from the pages of his book and faintly smile to himself, glad that you’re enjoying yourself.

the sun was setting and the stars started to appear in the pastel pink and orange of the evening sky. you place back the last book and stretch your arms, before turning to xingqiu. sighing, you give him a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek and softly say your farewell.

as you’re about to make your leave for the day, xingqiu halts you with his words, “wait. there’s something i need to do before we can end this date.” nonchalantly, he plucks a book from its shelf, opens its pages, and uses it to block the sunlight drifting through the transparent window glass, effectively shielding his vision from the public eye as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss.

his free hand finds its way combing through the back of your head to deepen the kiss. when he’s satisfied enough, the boy detaches his lips from yours and lightly rubs the flesh of your cheek with a finger, while placing the book down on a nearby table. you keep your eyes fixated on him as he licks the edges of his lips.

“that felt nice,” xingqiu murmurs, “you’re so sweet, i’d hate for anyone else to savor in this pleasant moment with you other than i. shall we continue this again on our next date too?”

ZHONGLI.

the first thing he does is make sure to bring mora, this time. it would be highly inconsiderate of mr. zhongli to have you pay for the expenses of this fine date. he’s one to take things nice and slow. sure, time is unfortunately measured and limited, but he wants to make the most of it with you, a mortal who, just like any other being, has a beginning and end to your life. zhongli wants to shower you in all the beauty and joy this world has to offer while you’re still here with him.

he may be a gentle-spoken and polite individual, but please don’t mistaken him as being shy in any way. he shows up to your residence one afternoon and presents you a bouquet of your preferred flowers while he asks if you would consider accompanying him on a date. you take the bundled up flowers, carefully stroking a petal as if it’s made of fragile glass and accepts his proposal with open arms. 

he takes you out to an expensive restaurant in the night of liyue and helps you select the best dishes. after you’re finished with your lavish and sophisticated meals, zhongli ushers you outside where you’re greeted with fresh air, a contrast to the suffocation you felt back at the restaurant. sure, the place is grand and your hunger is well-satiated, yet despite wearing your best clothing, you felt out of place there, like a commoner surrounded by nobles. 

when you express your earlier discomfort to zhongli, his eyes are filled with shame and he’s already apologizing like the gentleman he is. guiltily, you tell him it’s fine and you ask if you can show him something before you have to head on home. he ponders in thought before agreeing, walking hand in hand with you to your unknown destination. 

the chilling night breeze bites at your bare skin as you instantly shiver. this doesn’t go unnoticed in zhongli’s sharp eyes and he’s already unbuttoning his jacket. he drapes the coat over your shoulder blades and rubs his gloved hands on your cold fingertips to preserve warmth. “are you feeling cold perhaps? maybe we should head back?” you stop him before he can guide you back to the harbor. 

“i’m okay now. thank you for your concern.” you say to ease his poor mind. he nods and you both continue on. the walk uphill takes a while, but it’s worth it when you finally reach the top. your eyes widen in amazement as you witness the glimmering stars splayed across the pitch darkness of the sky. “zhongli, look. do you like it?” he simply nods, but all of his attention is focused on you.

zhongli grins down at your childishly excited face, pausing for a hesitant minute before he carefully places his hands on top of your shoulders. you look up at him in confusion and is about to question him, but any sound that comes out is cut off by his lips ensnaring yours in a kiss. you’re astounded by his intimate move, but you revel in his touch in a matter of seconds. 

he hopes, as he tightens his hold, that you’ll stay with him always, till your last breath. 

tagging. @scarymoosh

[herherteartear]

blanket kick

précis— Peter's not the suave man he would hope to be in front of his crush. instead, he's a blushing mess that haunts his memories and causes him to take out his frustrations on his blanket. luckily, you prefer cherry cheeks over smooth lines any day.

pairing— Peter Parker x enhanced!maximoff!reader

a/n— this is my first standalone written story and my first time writing for marvel! i hope you guys enjoy thisss<3 i'm also open to creating drabbles to continue this if anyone's interested????! pls enjoy and pls comment and let me know ur thoughts!!!

there are many ways to describe Peter Parker, but none could ever wholly capture the true essence of the boy

besides the obvious stuff,, his intelligence , his insanely good looks , his teenage awkwardness,,

it was a hard feat to string along words to describe the way he carries himself , the way he is with others , the way his heart loves with the same ability a sponge soaks up water and soap

Peter's had crushes before

perhaps more than he'd like to admit

(can't blame the boy, who gave Ty Lee the right be that cute!?)

but when he sees her, his heart begins to swell and suddenly, he forgets how to breathe..

or how to think... talk. y'know normal human stuff

in all honesty, Peter has tried his absolute hardest to block out their first meeting from his memories

he doesn't regret meeting her, of course not! never would he even repent that embarrassingly wonderful day

he only wishes it would've gone a little differently

let's set the scene, shall we?

the sun was shining brightly, the sky was a Carolina blue, the clouds were the prettiest porcelain color, rimmed with lace

Peter was riding in an awfully silent car that Happy was driving to the airport. despite being terrified of what's to come,, the fight Mr. Stark had recruited him for,, the boy was thoroughly enjoying this adventure.

the car came to a stop, which did little for Peter's nerves. he gathered his courage before stepping out, eyes squinting at the brightness of the yellow sun. once his eyes adjusted, they landed on the prettiest head of hair he had ever seen

(although he did think the same for Hermione Granger)

Peter had never been on a plane before that day. but even then, his sparkling eyes stayed trained on her,, completely ignoring the brilliant private jet behind her

"oh? Happy, i thought it was just us?" her voice made Peter's ears burn. he swallowed thickly. you blinked at Peter, curious but also intrigued , you smiled.

to which Peter choked. on air. your eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"a-are you okay?"

"god, kid, get ahold of yourself."

"i-i'm okay! it's– i'm– i'm fine!" Peter quickly stuttered out.

"well, Yn, this is– uh,, what's your name again?" Happy turned towards the boy who's cheeks were now redder than a firetruck.

"oh! i'm Peter– Peter Parker. it's nice to meet you- not that i don't know you. well i don't, y'know not personally. but like from the news.. not that i believe the news! they're awful to you, but i mean i guess i do sometimes– but never about what they say about you–"

"i'm Yn Maximoff. it's nice to meet you too, Peter." you cut him off before Happy strangled the cute boy. you had an amused smile

he was cute

finally getting on the plane, Peter had hoped he would be able to sit far away from you and wallow in his embarrassment,

maybe sneak a glance or two.. imagine a couple of scenarios where he wasn't a doofus,

but that's not quite what happened.

after witnessing just how much the new kids was able to ramble,, Happy was not about to spend a whole ass plane ride remotely close to him

so he took it upon himself to make the kiddies sit together.. much to Peter's dismay.

like!!? did Happy not see how Peter crashed and burned in font of you?!

you, on the other hand,, had the opposite reaction.

being the youngest avenger, you don't get to be around people your age too much,, which isn't something you're complaining about!!

you totally made the decision to be an avenger and you happily welcomed the consequences..

that didn't mean you didn't get lonely at times. especially now with the accords and the team breaking up., things got a whole lot more lonely

your sister, Wanda, had made her choice to leave the compound. you completely understood why, but a part of you had hoped she would've taken you with her

although, staying at the compound did ensure your safety.

it was a weird time for the avenger's , it felt wrong for you to say some of your teammates were criminals

it left a sour taste in your mouth

you glanced from the window seat to see Peter nervously wringing his fingers. you frowned.

"are you okay?" you asked, gently. Peter's eyes widened and his heart jumped to his throat. he wanted to say something, something cool or aloof, something that would make up for his ranting earlier

"i've never been on a plane before." Peter squeaked out. he dropped his shoulders, rolling his eyes at himself. that was the highest pitch he had ever heard his voice. you took in his clearly anxious posture.

"lets switch seats? maybe looking out the window will help you." you stated. before Peter could quickly shake his head, because how rude would it be of him to take your seat?, you were already stood up.

"oh god!" Peter breathed. he quickly shifted over to the seat you once occupied. he wanted to put up more of a fight, but the way you were swaying due to the turbulence, made his palms sweat in fear for your safety.

"you, like, swing from buildings and stuff, right?" you asked. he turned to you with a nod. "are you afraid of heights? or do you just not like planes?"

oh god. oh. no. you thought– you thought he was scared of being on the plane. Peter wanted to shrink in a hole and hide. you probably thought he was such a baby! that he could handle swinging from hundreds of feet in the air, but a plane is where he drew the line?

but what else is he supposed to say? 'oh, no! it's not the plane I'm scared of. it's just your beautiful smile and the way you smell like cocoa that gets me sweating'

wtf.

that was so wrong in so many ways.

"um, no, no. i'm okay, just– just a little nervous, is all." Peter tried to force out a chuckle. but it come out more like a cough. you mouth formed an 'o.'

"ohh, okay." you paused before your eyes lit up. "how about we play a game? to distract you?"

"o– okay.."

"can you talk with spiders?" Peter lifted his eyes from looking at his hands hovering above yours,; he let out a much more relaxed laugh than earlier.

you took advantage of his distraction to swiftly bring your palm from underneath his and slap the top of Peter's hand. he jumped.

"ouch!" he playfully pouted. you eyes glanced down at his lips. you giggled nervously. your hand went to hover over his, him now being the one to do the slapping. "of course i can't talk to spiders! i– i feel like i should probably be able to shape-shift into a spider in order for that to happen, y'know?"

you nodded thoughtfully. "that's true.. you didn't hear this from me, but i heard there's an Ant-Man going around." Peter looked at you with wide eyes.

"no way! that's crazy! does he like turn into an ant?" you bumped his hand with yours in order to get his attention back to the game. his hand burned at the feeling

"i don't know-" you said in a singsong tone. "it's just what's being said around the compound." you quickly slid your hands to avoid Peter's attack. he huffed.

"how are you so good at this?" he knitted his eyebrows to focus on how to attack quickly without hurting you.

"it's a game i used to play with my brother and sister." you answered. Peter finally took his chance to slap your hands, to which you squealed excitedly as you had tried to move in time. Peter and you fell into a fit of giggles.

you both leaned against your seats, still facing each other. your hands fell on top of Peter's.

the brown haired boy quickly slid his hand out from under yours, not because he didn't enjoy the contact, but because he was worried you'd feel how clammy his hands were

you frowned slightly at the loss of contact.

"a– are we really fighting your sister?" Peter wondered out loud, without a second thought.

you shifted uncomfortably. Peter quickly noticed; his heart sped up and he mentally scolded himself for being so inconsiderate.

"not because i think she's evil! i mean,, i know that's what the news says.. but they also think Spider-Man's like thirty. and i'm not thirty! its just everything's crazy right now.. with the accords., i can't even imagine how you're feeling! probably terrible.. oh, g od wait, not terrible, i'm s–"

you had been watching with an endearing look in your eye. you had come to find that you enjoy watching Peter ramble.

his eyes would become unsettled and shaky, his body would begin to become more and more animated, but his voice

gosh, his voice was something you wanted to listen to for the rest of your life

but you could tell he was getting more and more skittish. so you put him out of his misery

"terrible probably wouldn't be my go-to word, it's up there though.. at least i got to meet you." you smiled softly.

Peter's eyes ran over your soft features. night had fallen, so the windows of the plan displayed an almost picturesque display of the moon and stars. the light hue of color the moon provided painted your face in a way that clouded Peter's thoughts.

with your comment of being grateful to have met him, Peter wasn't in control of his mouth for much longer.

"so pretty." he breathed. both of you guys froze.

Peter's face quickly morphed from love-sick to mortified. you blushed violently.

deciding you didn't want Peter to fall into another rant-like apology (because if you got to listen to him talk for that long in this setting, you might just drop the 'L' word) , you said,

"let's watch a movie?"

the two of you sat, shoulder to shoulder, watching Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World, but being too hyper aware of their thighs pressed together and brushing hands to actually pay attention

upon arrival, both teenagers walked off the plane, sleep deprived , but with thumping hearts and dazed grins.

Peter threw himself on his hotel bed that night,, hiding under the covers

his thoughts replayed your interaction over and over (and over and over) in his head

the boy shoved his head, face first, into the stiff hotel pillow and let out a muffled groan

Peter flipped himself over, stared at the ceiling, before remembering his spouts of unnecessarily long explanations

he thrashed his body, kicking his poor blanket in frustration but most of all, out of embarrassment

he calmed himself down once his memories refreshed themselves over your gentle giggles and how soft your hands were

Peter fell asleep with cherry red cheeks and a blissful grin.

because despite those small mess ups, despite the futile way he beat his covers in humiliation, Peter treasures that day like no other.

[sleepynobie]

seelie | childe x reader

(A/N: It's been a while since the last time I write so it takes time to get the feel back but yeah, I'm obsessed with this game so enjoy!)

This isn't what Childe expects on his first hangout with you after being busy for a while.

A sigh escapes his lips as he starts to reminiscing the first time he hung out with you. It all began when Childe happened to meet you during his free time and he decided to invite you to have lunch together. Well, you were suspicious of him at first because you thought he had an ulterior motive. But then when he said he's going to pay for the meal, that thought quickly dissipates as you agree to have lunch with him. That doesn't mean you didn't have your guard up as you didn't fully trust him. But eventually after hundreds of free meals, you begin to loosen up to him.

To conclude, you start to see him as a friend that he doesn't even need to bribe you with a free meal (but he still pays for it anyway), and as much as he doesn't want to admit, he begins to fall for you. So, when he suddenly gets busy with his work and unable to hang out with you, he realises how much he misses hanging out with you. That's why he's so excited about today's hangout.

But then out of nowhere, this so-called 'seelie' appears and steals your attention away from him. For God sake, the entire conversation of this lunch has been about it to the point he starts to get sick of it. Besides, is that really a seelie? Why would this Ulman guy just leave it on your care when he only met you for the first time? Unless he actually knows you and has an ulterior motive?! And what baffles him is how you casually accept it just because it's cute?! Anyway, he'll need to keep an eye on the seelie and start researching about Ulman-

"Aww, isn't (seelie's name) just the cutest?" Childe snaps out of his thought when he notices that your seelie approaches him and tries to gain his attention.

He frowns for a moment and has his guard up because he's still suspicious of your seelie which makes it flinch and flies back to you. But at the same time, he also doesn't miss the opportunity to flirt with you as he smiles at you "Hmm... I think you're the cutest one instead of that, (Name)"

A slight blush starts to appear as you get flustered for a moment. But then you notice how he doesn't call your seelie with its name that you frown at him "It's (seelie's name), call it properly"

"Okay, okay" Childe replies nonchalantly before pouting while looking at your seelie "You know, I'm still not convinced if (seelie's name) is really a seelie and not dangerous at all"

You sigh "Come on Childe, aren't you being overly suspicious? I've been with (seelie's name) for a while and it has been a great companion and comfort whenever I'm down"

"It's not overly suspicious. I'm being cautious for your sake, (Name)" He says in defence before turning his attention to Paimon who has been focusing on eating her food throughout the conversation "and what about Paimon?"

Paimon stops and looks at you with an expectant look as you look at her before replying to him.

"She's an emergency food"

"What?! Paimon is not an emergency food!"

"Ouch. Rest in peace, Paimon" He says and looks at her with pity which makes her look annoyed.

"I'm kidding. Of course, she has been a great companion too" You say before grinning at Paimon which she huffs in response and complains at how you're being mean to her.

"Anyway, I don't trust (seelie's name) alright?" Childe says "It might have been an act to let your guard down so when you're completely defenceless, it definitely uses the opportunity to attack you-"

"Okay, that's just ridiculous" You object before looking at your seelie and patting it "I just can't imagine (seelie's name) is secretly an assassin"

He sighs exasperatedly and starts to feel irked about not only how you're defending your seelie so much, but also the fact that you don't care about how he's trying to look out for you "(Name), just because it's cute, doesn't mean it's completely harmless"

"Well, I have to disagree because (seelie's name) is the proof that it's cute and harmless"

"How do you know it's harmless?"

"Then, how do you know it's harmful?"

"I'm just saying it's highly possible that (seelie's name) is waiting for the right timing to hurt you. Have you learned anything from our first meeting, (Name)?"

"But (seelie's name) is different from you!" You exclaim as your anger has been building up and finally bursts out "You don't even take the time to get to know it and yet you're already assuming that it's dangerous. Did you even notice that it tried to be friend with you?"

Childe looks taken aback at your sudden outburst whereas Paimon and your seelie look terrified. Meanwhile, you try to calm yourself down as you take a deep breath before explaining calmly "To be honest, I was so excited to introduce (seelie's name) to you because I thought you two can be friends so it can remember you. I didn't tell you this but (seelie's name) can detect treasures and now enemies if they're nearby. So, I was thinking if it remembers you, maybe it can let me know if you're nearby"

You start to look slightly embarrassed at how you're basically confessing your feelings but you prefer to be honest about it so you continue "As much as I don't want to admit, I miss hanging out with you alright because you're the only that I can banter with. The more we get to know each other, the more I realise how we're like on the same frequency even though ironically we're enemies. But we've decided to not drag our background into this if we're friends right? So, I'm not going to associate with Fatui"

Childe who has been listening to you, starts to feel guilty and ashamed at how his jealousy takes over his consideration to befriend your seelie. But then, when you begin talking about your feelings about him, that catches him off guard because he never expects you to feel that way.

"Besides, people normally don't try to rebuild their trust to someone because they've been betrayed once and that was me before. But ever since I met your brother and how persistent you were in trying to spend time with me, I got to learn more about you and I just decided to give you a second chance" You say before smiling "Since we're friends now, shouldn't you try to trust me that (seelie's name) is not dangerous? Even if it ends up dangerous, it doesn't hurt you anyway because it's completely my fault for not listening to you-"

You suddenly stop explaining and look surprised when you look at him because Childe's face reddens out of the blue. He quickly looks away when he meets you in the eye which makes you look confused but also thinks that it's cute since you never see this side of him.

"Woah, Childe's face looks like the Jueyun chili" Paimon suddenly says as she has been watching you two because she's too afraid to say anything. That ruins the moment as you stifle a laugh before eventually laughing when you can't hold it anymore. Childe who was feeling guilty, then touched and overwhelmed due to your confession, and now embarrassed because Paimon just had to say that. But thanks to her, the serious atmosphere tones down and he feels a little calmer before looking at you.

"Well umm... I'll start with an apology because like you said, I was being inconsiderate to (seelie's name)" He says and looks at your seelie apologetically before returning his attention to you "Honestly, I was also the same as you because I looked forward to hanging out with you again because I realised how much I miss spending time with you during my free time. It's the only time when I feel like I'm being who I am and how it feels like to hang out with your friends"

Suddenly, he starts to feel embarrassed at what he's going to say as he can't help but look away from you while resting his cheek on his palm "But I just felt disappointed when you only talked about (seelie's name) and care so much about it. I guess I just felt unfair since it takes your attention away from me"

There's an awkward silence for a moment because you still try to understand what he just said while the silence makes Childe even feel more embarrassing.

"So... you're saying that you're jealous of (seelie's name)?" You finally reply and Childe is feeling called out because that's basically what it is.

".... Yeah.." He responds almost inaudible.

"Oh" You merely say for a moment before smirking "You want me to dote on you?"

"That line sounds familiar.." Paimon says to herself while a blush comes up to Childe's face because he gets caught off guard. Again.

"So that's why he likes to flirt huh" You thought to yourself as you find it fun to do before Childe calms himself down by clearing his throat and changes the topic.

"Anyway, it's settled now. Although, I don't think (seelie's name) wants to approach me again"

"I think it will open up to you if you approach it first" You smile and he blushes slightly before trusting your words as he raises his hand forward to try to pat it. Your seelie looks unsure for a moment but you reassure it that Childe doesn't mean anything bad and it trusts you. It lets Childe touch its head and he looks surprised at how soft and squishy it is, similarly to a slime.

"See? How can you say that it's dangerous" You sigh "You're overreacting, like a child"

"Can you stop using my name as a pun?" He starts to look irked which startles your seelie and he quickly apologises to it.

"Aww you two are finally friends" You smile proudly and give a pat to your seelie and to Childe which irks him even more.

"Now, you're treating me like a kid"

"But you want attention right? I give you attention" You smirk mischievously.

He frowns at you and grabs your hand to get it off from his head before he leans closer to you with a smirk "Maybe you can give me something else instead"

You start blushing but you know that he's being a flirt again so this time, you're not gonna back down. Your seelie starts to panic as it thinks that you're gonna fight again but thanks to Paimon, the tension breaks again.

"Are you guys going to kiss or something?"

The two of you blush furiously and immediately say no to her.

"How do you even know about kissing?" You sweatdrop.

"Anyway, I hope we can be friends, (seelie's name)" Childe smiles at your seelie and it looks excited as it suddenly extends its ears before twirling around. You smile happily as you watch the two of them bonding together and thankfully the hangout ends well.

Bonus

"You don't really need to pay for the meal, you know?" Childe sighs since he wants to pay for the meal but you quickly take over to pay.

"It's okay, I mean I almost ruined our hangout so" You grin.

"I thought we're going to get a free meal" Paimon sighs in disappointment "Free meals taste better"

"Paimon..." Your expression immediately changes to the one where you're going to scold her.

Childe chuckles before smiling "I'll treat you guys next time alright?"

"Yes please!" Paimon replies excitedly while you just sweatdrop at her before sighing.

"Anyway, I'm gonna head back to the bank so I'll see you guys again when I see you" He says and pats your seelie which makes you look happy at how they get along.

"Okay" You nod "But before you go, let me tell you something"

"What is it?" He looks confused.

"I said that (seelie's name) is the cutest but just today, I found that you're cuter than (seelie's name)" You smile innocently while Childe looks flustered at the sudden flirt and he's not used to it.

"I still think you're the cutest" He merely replies before turning around to leave "Anyway, I'm going so see ya"

"Alright see ya" You wave your hand before laughing in enjoyment at how you like making Childe get flustered. Now he can relate to how you feel when he flirts with you.

[teratalia]

Alien girlfriend x reader

I wrote a short little snippet from this writing prompt from the wonderful @monsterkinkmeme and I ended up expanding on it!! Listen, I created this alien girl just for this prompt but now I love her. I love her so much,, constructive criticism and comments are always welcome, it's my first time posting something like this :)

Quick notes: oblivious/dense fem reader, very lemony yet fluffy, let's call it lemon candy? lemon sweets? idk? (fingering, tribadism) 

“Aleya? Would you come here for a moment?” you call out. You don’t have to wait long before you’re joined by your new lab partner.

“Yes?” Her voice, quiet and airy, reaches you before she does. She leans over your shoulder, squinting curiously at your workstation with eyes lacking both sclera and pupil, just sky blue irises.

Her midnight blue skin fades to black at her humanoid forearms and shins, and she ties her long purple hair into her usual braid with two out of four arms. White star-like freckles are scattered over her face and body, and she looks like she creates new constellations with every move she makes.

“Sit, sit,“ you urge, patting her back. Aleya hesitates for just a second before doing so.

“Look at the reaction this plant gives.“ Very gently, you stroke it with a gloved hand. Its petals flutter and then open wide, revealing another layer of petals that are closed tight.

“Last time I tried that, the inner part still would not open.“

“Yes, but watch this.”

Carefully, you run your fingertips over certain petals in a sequence that took you hours to find. Finally the inner petals open to reveal a colorful ball-like fruit, not unlike a mandarin, which the flower leans over and gently deposits on the table before sealing up the layers of petals again.

Instead of watching the flower, you watch Aleya’s face. Unlike humans, her kind doesn’t tend to show much by way of facial expressions, but her eyes widen slightly and her braided hair undoes itself and winds around in a twist before untwisting and twisting all over again.

“That’s incredible. We’ve got to study this fruit immediately.“ Her tone also doesn’t change, but you swear you can hear an undercurrent of excitement. “You’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Thanks! But before that, I want to take a break. Care to join me?” You stand, slowly stretching out limbs sore from disuse and discarding your gloves. She agrees, her stocky frame barely reaching your shoulder.

You beam and pat her on the back, running your thumb over the exposed skin there affectionately as you guide her away. She shudders and her braid comes undone just a bit.

“Are you okay?”

Aleya nods jerkily, braid slowly retying itself.

Humans call her people the Astra because of the characteristic star freckles and deep galaxy-colored skin. You're still learning about her, and she about you as well. You could never truly tell if she was happy to work with you or not, but you liked to think she was content. This assignment almost felt like being roommates with a cat that seemed aloof, but would come up to you quietly for affection. Aleya seemed to like the affection, or at least hadn't said anything to the contrary.

Seated in the kitchen, you gather some snacks and munch away. Aleya doesn't need to eat as much as you do, and only eats human food to be polite. For her snack, she grabs a pressurized bottle of hydrogen-helium mix and sips like it's water.

"I am quite pleased with your progress today," she says, almost making you drop your drink. She almost never speaks to you first, so you're eager to keep her talking.

"Did you expect that little fruit?" you reply excitedly. She actually smiles back at you, small lips curving up.

"I did not. Is something wrong?"

"No, no. I didn't think Astra really smiled, is all."

"We do not. I have noticed that it is something you do when you are happy, and assumed it was a human thing. Is it not?"

You blink at her, then beam. "You would be right. I have to say, I'm flattered that you're noticing things about me."

Very briefly, her star freckles on her cheeks turn pale pink, but turn back to white so quickly that you're sure you imagined it.

Aleya tilts her head down, toying with her bottle. "Is it not customary to learn more about one's lab partner?" Her hair falls forward, hiding her face.

"Of course it is! I can't believe how nervous I was when I was assigned to work with you. It's been such a pleasure so far."

Her hair curls up to obscure her face even more, and the exposed freckles on her shoulders turn pink. It might be out of curiosity, to tease her, or a mix of both, but you make a guess out loud.

"You're very cute when you're embarrassed, Aleya. You don't have to be embarrassed."

The pink sparkle brightens and you giggle as her hair nearly cocoons her upper body, hiding her whole face and torso from sight. Only the faint glow of her pale blue eyes and pink freckles shine through.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop. Come on, don't hide." Reaching out, you pat around where the top of her head should be. Her hair slowly unfurls and flows down her back as she glares up at you under your hand.

"Must you make such jokes?" she grumbles quietly.

"Sorry, Aleya. I do mean what I said though. You're very cute."

Sliding your hand down her hair, you pat her back like always. She lets out a shaky sigh, hair twisting around itself and eyes narrowing, hands squeezing around her bottle. Frowning, you snatch your hand away, making her look up at you again.

"I really am sorry," you repeat more slowly. "I don't like making you uncomfortable, and I also don't like the thought that you might be forcing yourself to adjust to human customs."

"Wh-what do you mean?"

"Humans tend to like physical touch, but I've been so inconsiderate because I don't know if you like it. I never realized how distressed you look when I touch you so casually. I'm sorry. I just, I need a bit."

Discarding the empty food wrappers, you hurry off to your room, dropping down onto the pillows and leaning against the headboard. You can't shake the feeling that you've been royally messing up with Aleya, and maybe she was just pretending to be comfortable around you. If casual touch is something that the Astra don't do, you might have been subjecting her to something really awful. It just made you want to apologize all over again.

A knock on the door draws you out of your spiraling thoughts. When you don't reply, the knock grows louder and more insistent.

"Come in."

Aleya slips into your room and shuts the door behind her. Her hair is curled up as if with giant rollers, huge curls rolling and unrolling in constant, restless motion. Her star freckles are an odd shade of orange that you haven't seen before.

With a sigh, you indicate the rest of the bed next to you. "You can sit, if you want."

Aleya perches on the bed, actively trying to suppress the movement of her hair with two hands. The other two are folded in her lap.

"I need to apologize to you," she starts, holding up one hand when you try to protest. "You deserve to know some truth about Astra. About me. Yes, the touching is quite foreign to me, but it didn't actually make me uncomfortable."

"You're sure?" All that shivering and hair unfurling seemed to indicate otherwise…

"Why do you think I have been wearing a lot of clothing that exposes my back and my shoulders?"

"You weren't just too warm in the lab?" Finally you let yourself relax. The star freckles are no longer that strange orange, but now they’re turning pink. "Is there something else you need to tell me?"

"Touching my back the way you do, it…" The curls in her hair seem to multiply as she struggles to speak.

You take a second to think, and feel your heart nearly stop. "…That wouldn't be an erogenous zone for you, would it?"

Aleya nods jerkily, refusing to make eye contact with you.

The first thing you feel is shock, followed closely by horror and embarrassment. "I'm so, so sorry. I had no idea."

She shakes her head, still silent.

Then you pause. The clothing she wears. Could that possibly be…and if so, did you want…?

You take a deep, shaky breath.

"Maybe I should let you in on a human secret," you say quietly, unable to believe the very words coming out of your mouth. "Different humans may have different erogenous zones, but a common one is the neck. Specifically, if one were to kiss and bite there…" Shrugging off your lab coat and letting it fall to the ground, you tilt your head away from her. Uncertainty practically radiates off Aleya, but slowly, slowly, she leans in and presses her lips to your neck. You sigh contentedly, tension easing out of your body and hers. The wild curls in her hair start to calm, flowing into waves down her back as she backs away and looks up at you.

Placing one hand on her shoulder, you lightly smooth your fingers over her skin, and she smiles a little, pink fading out of her freckles. Emboldened, you lift your other hand as well.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to do," you murmur, caressing her shoulders, fingers dancing over sparkling purple freckles.

Aleya moans, leaning into your touch. "I-I would like to do this with you. It just feels different…I am not used to such physical expressions. Astra intercourse is more like a melding of minds rather than bodies, and I'd like to share that with you…"

You're not entirely sure what she means, but you nod as she draws closer, wrapping both sets of arms around you, her hair flowing over your shoulders. Locks of her hair caress your cheeks, sliding down over your collarbone, sparking something new deep in your chest. You gasp, feeling this unusual yet intimate warmth within you, realizing that it's her pleasure you're feeling. The more your fingers move over her back, the more the warmth grows.

"Oh, wow," is all you can say.

Aleya giggles. "I think it's easier to tell when you feel good, like so, perhaps…" Leaning forward, she pulls up your shirt and slips her fingers under your bra, cupping your chest. Her fingertips tease over your nipples and you grin, simply tugging your clothing off to allow better access. She just stares at your chest for a moment, eyes wider than usual, before reaching to pinch your nipples. Biting your lip, you discard the rest of your clothes and wait for her to do the same.

Aleya doesn't have much by way of a chest, but her belly protrudes, matching her chubby arms and thick thighs. The star freckles are scattered at random across her skin, some looking like complete connected constellations, some just clusters of stars, all gorgeous.

Clothes finally off, you press her against the headboard and lean forward, giving her plenty of time to turn away. She reaches forward to meet you, kissing you awkwardly. You smile against her lips, guiding her, teaching her how to move her lips, how to avoid clinking teeth. She's a fast learner, because of course she is, and before long you're melting into her kiss, letting out little moans as she holds you close.

It's intoxicating, the way her pleasure matches yours. Her tongue tastes like raspberries, of all things.

Slowly, you slide your hand down her chest, down her belly rolls, finding your goal between her legs. Seems her anatomy is similar to yours, after all. She's already slick, her wetness sucking your fingers in. Aleya trembles, gripping your shoulders and crying out. Some of her freckles turn pink as she presses her lips together.

"God, you're cute." Running your other hand over her shoulders, you thrust your fingers in and out of her heat, craving that sound again. "Don't hold back, I want to hear you."

Looking like she wants to keep quiet, Aleya actually bites her lip. You lightly scratch down her back in retaliation, finally making her shout again. She arches her whole body into yours, moaning with abandon as you add a second and third finger inside her. Your thumb slides up to the top of her seam only to find that she doesn't have a clitoris, but it doesn't matter.

The glowing feelings in your chest swell, threatening to burst.

Aleya gazes up at you through fluttering eyelids, pushing her hips against your hand, silently begging you not to stop. And who are you to deny her release? To deny her anything, really?

You press your lips to her ear, the subtly tart scent of her hair wafting over you, curls tickling your cheek. "You're close, aren't you?" Voice low, almost raspy, just above a whisper yet still enticing. "I can feel it…come for me, Aleya…"

Clutching at you like a lifeline, arching her back, she cries out, walls fluttering around your fingers. Gently you pull your fingers out of that tight heat, whispering soothing words to her as she comes down from the high. The warmth cools down slightly, not fully extinguished just yet.

Aleya pants, staring at you in dazed awe. Impulsively, you bring your still soaking fingers to your lips, tasting raspberry alcohol.

"You taste amazing." You mean it, too.

Narrowing her eyes, she suddenly flips the two of you over, pulling you down to rest on your pillows and straddling your waist.

"Humans can also feel that, right? That release?"

"We call it an orgasm, and yes."

Aleya's grin is devilish. "Then we shall have one together."

One pair of hands plays over your breasts, fondling your nipples, while the other set slides down to pet your thighs. Moving back, she fits herself between your legs and spreads your thighs, looking down to your dripping pussy. You'd almost forgotten your own arousal in favor of hers, but now that all the attention was on it…you squirm, fidgeting under her intense gaze.

"So are you just gonna stare or do you want to try something?" you ask weakly.

"Even now, you still make demands," she giggles. Her upper pair of hands absentmindedly pinches your nipples while she thinks. "This is different. What's this…?"

Aleya circles your clit with one finger, and you moan at the slight friction. "Th-that's called a clitoris, um, it's very sensitive, so please…"

She gently strokes your clit with her thumb, slipping other fingers inside you in the same way you had done for her. Encouraging her with little gasps and moans, you hold onto her upper hands still resting on her breasts.

Silently she pulls her fingers out and other hands away, leaning back and readjusting her legs. Before you can ask what she's doing, she pushes your hips apart a little more, sliding one leg underneath yours and swinging the other leg over your hip.

You freeze, raising your eyebrows. "Huh? Where'd you learn how to do this?"

"Just thought it'd feel nice, and it looks like I'm right, yes?" She pushes her hips against yours, rolling them together. You can't help but agree with a breathy moan, head falling back against the pillows as you clutch fistfuls of the bedsheets.

Her body feels different from yet so similar to a human's, soft skin grinding against yours, long hair cascading down over you, strands caressing your sides. One thick strand pulls your leg up, hooking it over her shoulder.

"H-how are you so good at this?" you groan, closing your eyes, hearing a soft chuckle as the only response.

Aleya pauses her hip movements, making you open your eyes, pout already forming on your lips. She reaches for you with both sets of hands, pulling you up to sit in her lap with your legs still intertwined, lower set of hands sliding down to pull your hips forward to meet hers once more.

"God, yes." Wrapping your hands around her shoulders, you slowly drag your hands down her back, watching as her back arches and her lips part in a silent cry. You pull her closer, closer, hoping to taste raspberries again.

From the warmth growing in your chest and the way Aleya just pants into your open mouth, you can tell she's close, and so are you.

"Together," she gasps, pushing one hand down between your bodies. Her fingers press down on your clit, rubbing quick circles. Bucking your hips, you come undone with a shout, feeling the warmth in your chest swell and burst. All four of Aleya's hands dig into your back as she pulls you close, body trembling, hazy gaze meeting yours.

As one, your bodies crash down onto the bedsheets, limbs and hair tangling. Slowly Aleya shifts you both to face each other, a strand of her hair stroking your cheek as the feeling in your chest fades away, leaving comforting contentment in its wake.

After a moment of watching your face, she says, "Now I wish I had confessed sooner."

Eyebrows shooting up into your hairline, you laugh, whole body shaking. "To be fair, it's not just your fault," you say between giggles. "I should've noticed that something was off. It's fine now, right?"

She smiles softly, star freckles going back to regular white. "Yes, it is."

You bite your lip before adding, "I have to say, now I think there's a certain kind of drink I want to have more often. I should fix myself a raspberry cocktail sometime."

"What does that mean?" Aleya merely blinks at you, sky blue eyes narrowing as you start laughing all over again.

[kelieah]

was it worth it? (peter parker x reader)

request (summary) @annamckayla : Hello, ur amazing! I wanted to request an Imagine where the reader and Peter are married with a bby, and after every mission she could be like "was it worth it" (in a kind playful way) and each time he would say yes, but one day the reader is somehow muddled up in this dangerous mission along side a few other ppl, he saves everyone but her, and he doesnt know if it was worth it

word count: 3.1k

warnings: lil bit of fluff, LOTS of angst so buckle up

edited: this is one of my longest fics so far, i put a lot of effort into this one kdsjnsdkfn

a/n: hehe ily anna but this request not cool dawg (jk ily but writing this hurt like a buttcheek on a stick)

masterlist | teaser

-

You look out the window, holding the beautiful baby boy you and Peter made in your arms and rock him back and forth. Your eyes scan over the city buildings, knowing your husband’s somewhere out there stopping crimes and saving lives.

“Did you know Ben, that your daddy is out there kicking butt? Saving lives, almost every day?” you look down at your sleepy baby.

He glances up at you with half-lidded eyes and coos, reaching out to you. You smile warmly and let him grab your finger.

“Yup, that’s right, daddy’s Spider-Man. I almost fainted when he first told me during our Senior year of high school,” you shake your head and chuckle at the memory.

You continue to sway him in your arms until he falls asleep. You hum quiet lullabies and walk over to the bedroom, placing him in his crib that was next to you and Peter’s bed.

Your head snaps up once you hear the bedroom window sliding up slowly. You chuckle quietly and place your hands on your hips, already knowing who it is.

Peter crawls in and onto the ceiling, closing the window with his foot. “Peter Benjamin Parker, you better not jump down. Ben’s asleep,” you warn in a hushed tone.

He looks over at you and takes off his mask, flashing you a sheepish smile. God, you could never get tired of watching him take off his mask like that.

He crawls down the side of the wall and quietly lands, walking over to you. He holds your waist and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead against his, “You seem really beat, Mr. Parker,” you mutter softly.

“I sure am, Mrs. Parker,” he pecks your lips, glancing down into your eyes.

You sigh longingly, curling your fingers in his hair, “Was it worth it?” you tease quietly.

He sighs softly, “Are you going to ask that every single time I go out on a patrol?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Mhm, because you’re not just coming home to your lovely wife. You’re coming home to your lovely wife and baby boy,” you whisper.

“In my eyes sweetheart, it’s worth it to save another one’s life, stop crime and come home to my whole world, you two,” he cups your face, pressing kisses all over.

“But what if you don’t come home one day?” you whisper, feeling your eyes begin to gloss at the thought.

Peter tilts your head up towards him and kisses you deeply, bringing you closer, “You know I don’t know the answer to that. You shouldn’t constantly worry about the future baby, you should try-”

You sigh against his lips and pull away, “I know, Pete. I know,” you mumble.

“I love you, and Ben, so much. Don’t ever forget that okay?” he holds your cheek gently, caressing it.

You place your hand on top of his nodding, “We love you more.”

Some nights he came back without a scratch but most nights he came back with much more than just a scratch.

Ben’s next to the couch sprawled out on a soft blanket, playing with some of his toys.

You’re fixing up some dinner until all of a sudden you hear a thud from your bedroom. You frown and quickly look up, turning off the stove in an instant.

You glance over at Ben making sure he’s fine. He looks up at you with curious eyes, his mouth all over a teething toy. You smile softly then quickly walk over to your bedroom, “Pete?” you peek your head in.

You gasp at the sight of Peter flat on the floor by the window, holding the side of his torso in pain. You rush over and slide next to him, lifting his head up gently to rest him on your lap.

“What happened?” you whisper, placing a hand on his cheek.

He smiles timidly and looks up at you, “I-I’m fine I swear baby, just a little whoopsie,” he breathes out.

Your eyebrows furrow in concern, and slowly lift up his hand. You frown at the deep cut above his hip, “Can you get up? I need to patch you up Peter,” you whisper.

He nods and carefully begins to sit up. You help him stand up and walk him over to the bathroom. You watch him lift himself up on the counter, letting out a sharp grunt.

You sigh, grabbing some cloth from the bottom drawer and handing it to him. “Apply pressure okay? I’m going to check on Ben,” you walk off.

You see Ben begin to doze off and walk up to him, scooping him up in your arms. You hold him gently and head back to the bedroom, placing him in his crib.

You walk back to Peter and get out the medical kit you have nearby at all times. Peter watches you with tired eyes, holding the cloth you gave him to his wound.

You look up at him and press a kiss against his forehead, “I think you need stitches bub,” you hold his cheek. He nods against your touch.

“Okay Mrs. Parker,” his raspy voice making your heart clench.

After stitching him up, you help him clean himself up. You stand in between his legs and wrap your arms loosely around his neck. You give him a concerned look that makes him pout.

“I know what you’re about to say.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Baby,” he groans quietly and pulls your waist close, “Yes, yes it was.”

You hum quietly, threading your hands through his hair, “Why?”

He nuzzles his nose against yours, letting out a quiet sigh, “You know why.”

You exhale and press your lips against his for a moment. He kisses back and holds you closer. You pull away and cup his cheek in your hand, “I guess so,” you whisper.

You never stopped asking him that question every time you came home. Deep down, you dread the day you won’t be able to ask him due to him never returning.

Though you knew it was repetitive and annoying to ask, you couldn’t help but ask. There was this one night where Peter wasn’t having it and the two of you broke out in a fight that thankfully ended in an agreement.

Peter tiredly crawled through the bedroom window, freezing as his enhanced hearing picked out the soft snores that came out of Ben’s mouth.

He smiled softly and closed the window, jumping down quietly. He walks over and adjusts Ben’s small blanket. Peter shuffles over to the kitchen to grab some food.

“Hello to you too,” you piped up from the couch, leaning on the palm of your hand.

“Sorry babe, hi,” he came up to you, bending down to kiss your forehead.

“You okay? Rough night?” you sat up, looking up at him worriedly.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine,” he waves his hand and goes over to the fridge, grabbing some food.

You sighed and followed, leaning against the counter. He heated up his food in the microwave and glanced over at you, “What?” he yawned.

“Was it worth it?” you teased, poking at his side.

Your smile faltered as you noticed he didn’t react. He let out a weak chuckle, “Mhm.”

“Peter, I’ve known you for what? Six years now? You can talk to me bub,” you murmured.

“Do you always have to fucking ask that question? Every single fucking time I come back from risking my life for others, “was it worth it” bullshit? Do you!?” he snapped his voice loud yet low enough to be heard by you but not by Ben. He dragged his hands down his face and looked over at you with the most exhausted expression, waiting for a response.

Your heart raced and you felt your throat begin to swell, never expecting Peter to burst out like that, “I-I never meant for it to upset you P-Pete,” you whispered, “I j-just-”

“You just what huh? Y/n, love, I don’t think you understand what I do out there,” he grits through his teeth, turning off the microwave that went off. “Of course it’s fucking worth it, I’m an Avenger. A hero. It’s what we do! That’s all we fucking do,” he fumed, pacing back and forth.

You inhaled sharply, quickly wiping away your tears that fell from your cheeks before Peter saw but you failed to do so. He stopped in his tracks, his heavy breathing calming down, “S-shit baby, I-I’m so sorry-” he took a step towards you.

You took a step back, “N-no, it’s okay. I get it, it was inconsiderate of me to ask, constantly. I-I just thought it was kind of like an inside joke y-you know? But there’s no excuse for it,�� you whimpered, “A-actually a part of me, h-has been wanting to bring up y-your career Peter.”

He nodded, walking over and cupped your face, wiping away your tears, “Talk to me sunshine, I-I’m not mad. I’m not mad at you at all, dammit it’s just been a long day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you just now. I-I’m calm, just talk to me. I’m here, I got you,” he pressed a kiss against your forehead, his words starting to take an affect on you.

You let out a shaky breath and nodded, “Peter, a-are you ever going to consider r-retiring? I-I know you’re young and I know it’s s-selfish of me to say, but you could do so many other great things. L-less risky careers, because we,” you choke slightly on your words, Peter instantly placing a hand on your back to soothe you. “B-because we have a family now Peter, and if you,” you sobbed, “If you died, god I don’t know what’d I do.”

Peter’s heart shattered at your words and he pulled you into a tight hug, bringing your head to his chest. “I know, I know,” he whispered painfully. “Y-you have to trust me, and what I do. I-I love you both, with all my heart. With all my entirety. But I-I just can’t give up what I do.”

You sighed deeply and nuzzled your head into his chest, “I get it Pete,” you sniffled, beginning to calm down. “I really do. But remember what you told me that night when I found out your identity?”

“Wanna check out the other web shooter?” he muttered, playing with your hair.

You stifle a quiet laugh, “Besides that. You told me you kept your secret for the longest time because you didn’t want to put my life in danger. Nor May’s, nor Ned’s. Or anyone close to you,” you sighed. “D-does that not concern you now?”

Peter tensed at your question, “W-well when you put it like that. I feel like shit now,” he grumbled making you chuckle. “Look, I’ll talk to Tony okay? I’d never want to put you in danger, let alone our own son. I-I’ve just been so wrapped up in being this superhero that everyone looks up to that I- I didn’t realize I have everything I could ever need in front of me. You and Ben,” he squeezed you tightly in his arms. You smiled in content, tearing up and held him close.

Even after that argument you had with Peter, you still managed to ask him the question. Luckily without pissing him off. He eventually came up with different creative and adorable responses each time which you absolutely adored.

“Peter, I’m going to run to the store real quick m’kay? Watch Ben,” you walk over to where he’s sitting, wrapping your arms around him.

He looks up at you and you peck his lips causing him to grin, “Okay mama.”

You smile happily, ruffling Ben who’s sitting in his dad’s lap and grab your keys, walking off. Ben pouts slightly and reaches out for you as you leave the apartment.

“Don’t worry buddy, mommy will be back,” Peter ruffles his head gently making him giggle. “Now look,” he props him up to face the TV, “That cool guy right there, that is Luke Skywalker.”

Soon after about two Star Wars movies later, Peter began to get worried. He places Ben who fell asleep back in his crib.

He walks over to his phone and leaves you another message. He paces around for a couple minutes and quickly glances at his phone repeatedly.

His heart jumps out of his heart when he hears your ringtone and immediately picks up, “Y/n? Are you okay? It’s been almost two-”

“Peter Parker,” a low raspy voice answers, “I hope you didn’t forget about me Spider-Man,” he chuckles darkly.

Peter’s eyes widen, panic beginning to rush throughout his body, “Where is she?” he spits.

“She isn’t the only one in danger Parker,” he holds your phone up, a bunch of other voices crying out for help.

“P-Peter!” he hears Aunt May wail out.

“You fucking monster,” Peter snarls, clenching his fist.

“Wilmington Fifth Street, the warehouse on the right. Can’t miss it. If you call backup, all your loved ones will be dead,” the anonymous enemy retorts and ends the call.

Peter quickly calls Tony, “Kid what? It’s like 9-”

“Mr. Stark please s-send someone over to my apartment to watch Ben. I-I have to take care of something please,” Peter explains, putting on his suit.

“On it,” Tony recognizes the panic in his voice, “Do you want me to send backup?” he asks but doesn’t receive a reply as Peter hangs up.

Peter paces around, running his hands through his hair. Within a couple of minutes he hears someone walk up to the front of the door and swings it open before they could knock, “Oh thank god, Happy. Please, watch Ben. I have to go,” he rushes back to the living room.

“O-oh okay, yeah of course. Peter what’s-” Happy asks closing the door behind him.

Peter jumps out the window and swings off to the address that clouded his mind. “God please, please,” he whimpers to himself and eventually lands in front of their warehouse.

He couldn’t just burst through the front door, that’d bring too much attention. Peter looks around and quickly swings up to the roof, finding an entrance from a lifted up window.

He scans the room quickly to see Aunt May, Ned and MJ all tied together. “Karen, is there anyone else is the building?” he mutters lowly.

“Yes. But if you act now, you can save those three,” she states.

“On it,” he grunts and swings down quietly. They all look up at Peter with fearful and tear-filled eyes, shaking their heads.

He quickly takes off the tape on their mouths and unties them, “Peter no he has her-” May sobs.

“I-It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay. All of you need to get out of here now. Police are on their way, they’ll be around the corner,” they all nod in response, too shaken up to say anything. He leads them towards a backdoor entrance. “Where’s Y/n?” he asks, before letting them go.

“She’s in the back, w-with the Vulture,” Ned looks over at Peter.

“He came back?” Peter’s breath hitches. “N-no time, okay go,” he pushes them out and quickly swings back inside.

“Karen, where are they?” Peter whimpers under his breath. She instantaneously shows the whole warehouse mapped out and where she detected two life forms.

Peter rushes over to the back and slams the door open. You sat there tied up in a chair and unconscious.

“Y-Y/n,” he sobs, stumbling over towards you.

“I wouldn’t,” a voice rings from behind you. Peter snaps his head up and shoots a web towards the voice.

The Vulture’s new and improved wings cut his web as it came towards him, “You know Parker, all those years ago. When you were a little fucking Freshman, you took everything from me. Everything.”

“You’re supposed to be in jail,” Peter snaps, walking over to him swinging a fist to his masked face. The Vulture’s wings are too fast and slashes his arm before Peter could make contact. 

Peter lets out a strained yelp and gets kicked down by him. “Now, I’m going to take everything away from you, starting off with your wife,” he spits, placing his weighted foot down on Peter’s head.

Peter yells in frustration and shoves him off, attacking him with all the power and rage he mustered up. The Vulture easily blocks his attacks and slams him against the wall, “Tsk tsk. You never learn,” he steps on him roughly and repeatedly. Kicking him down with his weaponized and sharp boots. Peter weakly attempts to block his blows but fails. The Vulture chuckles darkly and walks over to you, shaking the blood off his boot.

“N-no, Y-Y/n, please n-no,” he gets up slowly, his ears beginning to ring and his sight becoming blurry. The Vulture circles you, cutting off your restraints and kicks you to the floor, your body falling to the ground with a thud.

You wake up to a sharp pain impaling your stomach, the Vulture’s point of his wing shoved into your torso. You let out a blood-curdling scream, bright red seeping out from your clothes. You feel something warm and thick begin to spill from your mouth.

“Y/n!” Peter shouts, tears streaming down his face. He limps over to you and falls by your side, screaming out in agony.

Suddenly the walls shake and Tony appears with the rest of the Avengers that were nearby to help. “Fuck,” the Vulture mutters and makes a run for it, about to fly off.

Tony blasts him down and flies down, managing to fight him off. Steve helps him out and they capture him, getting his weapons off him as they cuff him up.

You look around beginning to see white. Your ears fill with ringing and faint voices, until a familiar weak voice snaps you back into reality for a moment.

“M-my pretty girl, h-hey. Hey,” Peter whispers, brings your head onto his lap.

“P-pete?” you barely whisper, weakly raising your hand to his cheek.

“Y-yup that’s me. Your husband, the father to our child,” he shakily holds your hand against his cheek.

“B-Ben? Baby B-Benjamin?” you ask, eyes fluttering as you stare into Peter’s glossy eyes.

He nods in response, tears dripping down from his face onto yours.

You go silent for a while, trying to process everything that just happened. Peter chokes on his sobs, and brings you close to his bruised body.

“P-Peter?” you rasp.

“Y-yes my love?” he sniffles, brushing a hair out of your face.

“W-was it worth it?” you ask tiredly, lips quivering as a slow tear rolls down your cheek.

He lets out a loud strained sob, shaking his head furiously, “N-no. No it wasn’t. It wasn’t,” he wipes away your single tear with his thumb.

You barely curl your lips in an attempt to smile and close your eyes, going limp in his arms. Peter bursts out in a fit of sobs and hugs you close to his body, his body trembling against yours.

Tony and the rest of the team stand around nearby, pain filling their hearts and tears welling up in their eyes as Peter cries out in misery.

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[fand0m-obsess3d-g33k]

Secrets and Seduction (Tammy x Reader)

Summary: You’re asked last minute to babysit for Tammy when some unplanned events take place which leads to an even more unexpected situation. You’re long awaited dream is about to become a reality.

Words: 3,348

Warnings: NSFW (just cunnilingus)

Author’s note: I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is my first shot at writing anything smut related so please comment or message me any feedback! It’s much appreciated!!! Also I just wanted to extend a thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged Confessions with Cordelia, it really means a lot. I’m done talking now, enjoy darlings! Mwah!

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It was Saturday afternoon when you received a text from the docile blonde who was secretly the subject of most of your thoughts these days. You knew it was wrong especially since you were quite a bit younger than her however, ever since Tammy’s inconsiderate asshole of a husband left, you couldn’t get her off your mind.

Hey Y/N, I know that it’s last minute but I just got a called in. Would you be willing to babysit Keri tonight?  

Of course, Tam Tam, I’d love to! What time do you need me? Even though you shouldn’t your mind drifted to other situations where she may need you but you shook it off before hitting send.  

Oh Y/N, are you sure it’s not an inconvenience? I don’t want to cut into any plans you may have!

C’mon Tam Tam, you know I never have plans and even if I did, I’d gladly drop them to help you out. :)  

Well as long as you’re sure. Could you get here by 4:00?  

Done and done! See you then! :)

You looked at the time...3:00. An hour to get ready, you had to look nice in front of Tammy even if it was only for a little bit. You went up and grabbed your favorite burgundy dress as your mind reminded you that Tammy complimented it the one time she saw you wear it. It had sheer lace quarter length sleeves and fell to just about the knees. You brush your knotted Y/H/C mane before adding some winged black liner and mascara. You completed the makeup with some deep reddish-brown matte lipstick. Before exiting and heading out into the fall air, you throw your black pea coat and flats on.

When you arrived, you noticed the blonde carrying heavy duffel bags to the trunk of the car to which you rush over to take a couple from her hands. Tammy releases a sigh of relief before heaving the bags into the trunk with a loud thump. She was breathing heavily from the exertion; her hair was slightly tousled from sweat and trying to rush around yet she still looked breathtaking as always. You felt your mouth go dry as your mind started wandering to other moments when she would look like this.  

“Y/N? Y/N!” Tammy shouts snapping you out of your daydream. Her hand coming to rest on your shoulder, the touch gives off heat so intense you feel it through your rather thick coat. “Are you alright sweetheart?”  

“Y-yeah Tam Tam, I’m sorry I was just thinking, you know how I get.” A nervous laugh escapes your mouth making her giggle. Her hand giving your shoulder a squeeze before releasing it, she opened her mouth like she had something to say but was interrupted by her cell phone ringing.  

“Yes...yes. I’m leaving now Lou, see you in a bit. Bye.”  

You tense up when you hear Lou’s name leave the beautiful woman’s lips. You knew they worked together, granted you didn’t know what they did for work but early on you decided that was none of your business. If Tammy was happy you weren’t going to pry. Lou was at a party that Tammy had once, she seemed really nice nevertheless you had a sense of distaste towards the other blonde when you realized she was rather handsy. This fact too was none of your business since Tammy was not yours to claim but you couldn’t help being bitten by envy. It wasn’t known if the mother was interested in women yet if she was your mind knew that Lou would have a way better shot than you would, it hurt. The blonde shut the trunk before giving you a quick hug.  

“Thanks, so much Y/N, I owe you breakfast. Stay the night if you don’t have any plans tomorrow. I’ll see you later tonight!”  

“See you!” You yell back as she drives off with the window down waving at you.  

It was about 7:30 and you had put Keri to bed after your hours of making food for you both, painting her nails and dancing around ridiculously around the living room. The little girl was so adorable that you could never be upset when she was around. As you stood in the doorway watching her little form sleep for a minute before switching off the light your mind flashed back to a time six months into babysitting the little cutie. It was a night you just happened to hang out at the house because Tammy invited you for dinner as a thank you for your help.

“Looks like someone was sleepy.” You whispered to Tammy in the kitchen, pointing to the little girl’s body passed out across the couch. The gentle mother came in bending down to pick her daughter up, you stuck your arm out to stop her. “I got her.”  

You carried her up to her room, while Tammy finished up the last dish that was in the sink from dinner. Carefully you made it up the stairs into the girl’s room to tuck her sleeping form in, she stirred a bit as you told her goodnight and kissed her forehead.  

“Goodnight, love you Y/N.” The girl mumbled sleepily before turning over to continue sleeping.  

Your eyes were wide and your heart swelled. It was the sweetest thing ever, you realized Tammy thought so as well because when you got to the doorway she was standing off to the side. A beaming white smile lit up her face and a single tear was rolling down her cheek. You look to her with furrowed brows as if to ask ‘are you okay?’. As if reading your mind, she wiped the tear away and nodded smiling even wider before you both headed back downstairs.  

Just to give Tammy an update you texted her real quick to tell her Keri was asleep in her bed. After an hour passed with still no sign of the older woman so you snuggled up on the couch and switched-on Netflix and decided to watch Carol. It was one of your favorites and since the older woman was running late you figured there was no harm, she probably wouldn’t be back for a couple hours. Before the movie even started you heard the front door open and you frantically searched for the remote. Where in the hell did you put the remote? It was too late to change it, Tammy was already in the door, kicking off her shoes and walking over to you by the time you found the controller and were only able to pause the movie. The blonde doesn’t pay much attention to your frantic actions and proceeds to enter the kitchen while apologizing for being late and not being able to text you with a time frame like she usually did.  

“It’s okay. I know you get busy.” You say shrugging.  

“Would you like to have a drink with me? It’s been a long night.” Clinking of glasses came from the kitchen and you get up to join her, this wasn’t the first time you’d joined her for a glass of wine or two.

“Sure!”  

Tammy caught sight of your outfit for the first time that night as it was previously covered up by your coat on your arrival. Her mouth went dry as she took in your appearance and she was mesmerized, wine glasses all but forgotten for the moment.  

“Tam Tam...Tammy the wine!” You say louder to get her attention as the red liquid continued to overflow the glass making it spill onto the counter top.  

She looked down; eyes wide as she said ‘shit’ under her breath. You rushed over and grabbed the roll of paper towels that she was frantically looking for. After you were both done cleaning up the mess, she looked up at you with flushed cheeks, wiping the sweat from her palms on her shirt. “You look lovely Y/N.”  

It was your time to blush while avoiding her gaze as you thanked her quietly. She offers you the glass that she didn’t overflow while she herself bent down to the glass and slurped the liquid from the rim of the glass until it was low enough to pick up and carry to the living room. With the remote in hand, you were getting ready to quickly switch Carol off until she interrupted you.  

“I’d love to watch a movie. What were you going to watch?”  

Your cheeks get hot once again. “Carol. We don’t have to watch that though we can watch whatever you want.”  

She seems to ponder the title while she sets her glass down on the coffee table. “Oh, I’ve never heard of that movie I’d love to watch it! Go ahead and start it up and I’ll make us some popcorn, how does that sound?”  

Like I’m going to want to crawl into a hole to wallow in my embarrassment. You thought.

“Sounds great!”  

The movie starts playing and you practically shove popcorn in your mouth with every Therese and Carol scene. The next time you try to reach into the bowl you were shocked to feel soft skin against yours, you both pull your hands back slightly before taking turns grabbing more popcorn. After Tammy’s second glass of wine was gone you noticed she sat down closer to you on the couch now right up against your side actually now that the popcorn was gone. The bowl forgotten on the coffee table along with your finished glasses. You were relieved that the wine had helped you relax a bit, the blonde hadn’t seemed to mention anything about the two women interacting on screen which you took as a good sign. The perfume scene was now playing on the screen and you swallowed hard still a little nervous that the woman beside you will question you or comment. Instead, you feel a soft hand land on your knee before she copied Therese from the film, leaning in and nuzzling her nose into the side of your neck under your ear. She breathes in your perfume; it was her favorite you guessed since she typically always commented you when you wore the fruity scent.  

“Hmm...you always smell so wonderful Y/N.” Tammy whispers.  

Thankfully she turns her head and continues watching the movie that is until the Waterloo scene comes on making you shift in your seat a bit. You’re watching a lesbian sex scene with your very straight crush! How could you not squirm? Why did you agree to watch this with her you idiot? Because you can’t say no to her the other side of your brain rationalizes. With the internal questions reeling in your head, you don’t realize that Tammy’s face got closer again until you hear her speak.  

“Are you getting a little hot and bothered sweetheart?” She purrs in your ear making you shiver at the low octave of her voice. “I see the way you look at me Y/N. Do you think about me sweetheart?”  

You swallowed hard and your body betrays you by shivering again by the words being whispering in your ear. The light graze of unbelievably soft lips against your ear lobe.  

“Yes.” You breathe out.  

“Look at me Y/N,” You do as she says, her expression absolutely serious, “if you feel uncomfortable tell me okay?”

You quickly nod your head. This brings a smile to the blonde’s face before she brushes a piece of your Y/H/C hair behind your ear, her thumb caresses your cheek. You subconsciously lean into the touch and release a huge breath that you didn’t realize you were holding. Soft lips ghost over your own testing the waters before coming back for more with more pressure making you moan. You allow your hands to get buried in the golden tresses that you’ve longed so many times to touch bringing her closer to you as you kiss her with the same amount of enthusiasm as she did. Your lips trail along her jawbone to her neck where you kiss and nibble here, a mixture of gasps and moans leave her lips sending heat straight to your core. However, intruding thoughts pushes forward...what about your friendship? Why you? You pull back to look at her.  

“I-I’ve wanted this for so long Tam Tam...are you sure you want me? Y-you don’t want Lou?”  

In response she turns away from you, your stomach sinking for a minute regretting the questions that flowed from your lips until you see she undid her button of her pants.  

“First of all, Lou is with Debbie and no I do not want Lou. Come here Y/N.”  

You move closer to her on the couch until you are right beside her; your knees bumping her legs. She gently grasps your wrist and brings it into the waistband of her pants to cup her core through her underwear. Her thoroughly soaked underwear. You gasp shocked not only at the gesture but also at the fact that she was so wet, another shot of heat goes directly to your own core which you were sure was just as wet as hers. You move your fingers over her core just barely touching, she releases a small moan and grinds into your hand for more pressure.  

“Is that what I do to you?”  

She nods biting her lip and grinding into your hand once more. To Tammy’s dismay you remove your hand before kissing her again, your hands grab the hem of her shirt pulling it off and tossing it aside. If you were being honest you expected nude-colored undergarments, not that you minded because either way this is what you’ve wanted for so long. The subject of your dreams, and fantasies just...Tammy. You were pleasantly surprised to find that her bra was a dusted pink color that looked so beautiful against her pale skin. In an instant after drinking in the sight before you, your lips are all over her pale skin. First her lips, then her neck, from there your lips are everywhere...her collarbone, licking at the parts of exposed breasts that weren’t confined by the bra. Tammy arches her back to which you take this opportunity to reach around and unhook the material, tossing that aside to lay with her discarded shirt.  

Tammy watched in awe as she watched your Y/E/C eyes darken in lust before she felt your soft hands caress her perfectly sized B cup breasts. Just the right size to perfectly fit in your warm hands. She gasped when she felt your tongue flick against her nipple before taking her breast into your mouth, sucking on it before releasing it with a pop. All the while shimmying out of her pants as your hands made quick work of simultaneously pulling them down your hips. The blonde’s honey brown eyes met yours, the desire in them matching yours.  

“Y/N, you are wearing too many clothes sweetheart.”  

The words come out in heavy rasps and you realized you could get used to making Tammy breathless.  

“Can you help me out of them Tam Tam?” You ask with the same rasp to your voice.  

“I thought you’d never ask.” She leans towards you as you turned around for her to unzip your dress. As she did so you felt the coolness of her knuckles pass over the skin of your back causing you to shudder and gasp. The older woman’s mouth found the same spot and slowly kissed from your shoulder blades up to the side of your neck, prior to slowly dragging the top half of your dress over your shoulders and down to your hips. Her hands drag along the same path afterwards it felt like heaven, it was too good to be real. You needed confirmation as her lips then followed the path, she was everywhere.  

“Tell me I’m not dreaming. Tell me this is real.” You breathe out, craning your neck to the left side to give those wonderful lips better access to your pulse point. A nibble to that exact spot made you moan deep in the back of your throat.  

“Oh, Y/N this is very real. Stand up please I need to see you.”  

Tammy watches with hungry eyes as you do what she says and remove your dress revealing your black bra and panties. The primal look in those honey brown eyes is something you had never seen before however; it was definitely something you wanted to see more of. Her hands grab your hips gently and pull you towards her still seated form on the couch, her long slender fingers hook in either side of the waistband of your panties then slowly peeled the fabric down your legs. The older woman noticed your fingers fidget nervously at your sides as if wanting to cover up, which makes her take action by moving to the edge of the cushion and placing a kiss to the skin above your mound.  

The older woman scoots down the couch and lays back flat against the cushions then politely instructing you to straddle her hips. You follow her instructions of then removing your bra and easily follow as her hands press into your back causing your torso to lean forward. Her hands and mouth find your breasts sucking, kissing, and touching the ache in your core grew stronger to the point where you could barely stand it. Tammy must’ve felt your arousal against her hip bone because she grinded her hips up and moaned.  

“Come up here please sweetheart.” It took you a second to realize what her words were meaning exactly until your brain processed exactly where she wanted you. You were still hesitant though, no one had ever done that for you what if you didn’t smell or taste good. Tammy’s hands grabbed both of yours intertwining your fingers, the action made your stomach flutter. “Do you trust me?”  

You instantly nod. You trusted Tammy more than a lot of people in your life. This made you feel confident enough to let go of hands and climb your way up her body finding your balance on your knees straddling the beautiful woman’s face. A kiss is placed against your clit making you jump slightly. Within seconds you felt the older woman’s tongue on your pussy swiping through your folds before coming to suck on your clit. Your legs started to quiver but then you whimper in disappointment when you feel the lips release the sensitive bud.  

“Tammy.” You whine.

“Not yet.” You hear her mutter softly.

“Tammy please.” You whine again this time looking directly into her eyes. This is her weak spot, just like you, she never wanted to deny you anything.  

“Just remember you need to be quiet. Can you do that?”  

“Y-yes...yes just please Tam Tam, let me cum for you.”  

A moan leaves the beautiful lips below you before you feel the long thick tongue attacking your pussy again swiping through your lips once again before entering slowly into your soaking wet core. You had to bite your lip hard in between your teeth to keep your moans and screams at bay, her tongue was so talented as it filled you and hit the sensitive spot inside your walls. Fingers started rubbing your clit in quick, tiny circles, you looked down at her with your mouth open wanting to scream but thankfully no words escaped. Your Y/E/C eyes met hers and that was your undoing. Your thighs spasmed, pussy walls clenching against the warm, talented tongue belonging to the most beautiful woman. It was the most intense orgasm you’d ever had.  

Tammy quickly cleaned up every drop of your arousal moaning at the taste until you came down from your high. Moments later you laid there for a moment in each other's arms breathing heavily, feeling her fingers draw little patterns on your back.  

“Can I taste you Tam Tam?” You asked quietly.  

She smiled like a cat that caught a canary and kissed you passionately before sitting up.  

“Grab the clothes and follow me upstairs sweetheart.”  

[thatotherfooltheycallweaver]

Another test

A completely different fic that im working on

Tuesday afternoons are always oddly slow, regardless of the location Cordelia found herself in. Earlier that morning, her brother had asked her to take on the role of his receptionist for a few days, as the woman who usually worked at the front desk of his office was unable. She sat at the desk, reorganizing papers out of complete boredom. Men had been coming in and out all day, but she felt like there was nobody she could talk to. She was more than happy to help whenever she was needed, but it was, in her mind, ridiculous that there was nothing to do. With a sigh, she tapped her fountain pen against the loose papers--schedules, notes, and other things--it almost took on a pointillistic look on the page. She leaned on the desk before noticing that her hair was a bit of a mess and started trying to pin stray strands back into place--she knew she should have been more careful when she was doing her hair that morning. She hated having her it pinned up, but attempted to be more professional, for her brother’s sake. She had heard rumors of a baronet all the way from England--she couldn’t remember if they had specified from where in that country--would be visiting Buffalo for the time being. A baronet, no less. That title was uncommon enough to warrant questions, as nobody she spoke to understood exactly what it meant. She made it a point to ask her friend, Edith, later--she would likely know. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the door open and shut. A tall man dressed in all black walked in, carrying a wooden case. The only other visible color on him was the silver chain of a pocket watch. He removed his top hat as he approached the desk, revealing short, dark, slicked-back hair under it. His eyes met hers for a moment and he smiled.

“Good afternoon, miss. I’m looking for a Mr. Baker. I have an appointment, though I suspect I’m a bit early.” Cordelia looked through the papers to find if there was something written down. “It’s for Thomas--ah, I’ve a card, my apologies.” He took a piece of paper out of his pocket. Printed across it, in neat black ink, was the name ‘Sir Thomas Sharpe’ and the title of Baronet under it. She had no idea how accurate the rumors would have been, but each of them mentioned he was attractive. They were inaccurate, as none of them could accurately capture how handsome the gentleman before her truly looked. Though tempted to keep him in the lobby until it was time for him to go back to speak to her brother for answers--she was curious, wanting to know more about him--she decided against it.

“My brother wouldn’t mind if you went back early, actually. If you’re ready to, of course.”

“Really?” He asked, a bit surprised. “Yes, miss, I am ready. Where do I go?”

“I can show you.” She stood, deciding against prying for information and resigning to interrogating her brother later--she didn’t want to risk seeming nosy or inconsiderate. “My name is Cordelia Baker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Baker.” He nodded with a smile. They reached the end of the hall and she knocked on the doorway.

“I’ll be right there.” A voice from within called.

“I wish you the best of luck.” She looked at Thomas, smiling.

“Thank you.” His eyes met hers for a moment. “I might just need it.”

“I have full confidence that everything will go well for you.” There was a look in his eyes; as if he was unused to warm smiles and genuine words with no hope of recompense--no cynicism or idle words. He was unsure, for the moment, if it was how America simply operated...or if she was one of those rare, kind souls. The type that would set him free from all the horrors, all the burdens--he pushed the thoughts away from his mind, reassuring himself that he needed to take things one step at a time. Thomas brushed off his coat in an attempt to make himself at least feel more presentable. The door opened, and a man a little shorter than the Baronet was standing there. He had strawberry blonde hair and was wearing a blue shirt with a tawny vest over it.

“Sir Sharpe.” He held out his hand to the dark-haired man. “I’m Anthony Baker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” Thomas shook his hand. “Thank you for agreeing to see me, I truly appreciate it.” He let go, the shorter of the two opening holding the door to his office open, motioning for him to follow. Cordelia left, wanting to give them privacy if they wanted.

“Please, just call me Anthony.” He said with a smile, gesturing to the chair. “I don’t know what you plan, but do make yourself comfortable.” Thomas found it odd. Other investors had not been anywhere near as considerate, or kind. He did not understand it, but he wasn’t going to waste such an opportunity.

“I have a model. May I?” He asked, gesturing to the box.

“Of course.” Again, much to his surprise, Anthony actually picked up some of the papers and things to make a bit more room for him to work. He was ready to take notes and already seemed interested. As if he was half-expecting the redhead to change his mind, the baronet quickly set the small model up, taking the jar and box that was inside. The man across from him watched, allowing him to concentrate. Taking a breath, he did his best to steady his sudden nerves.

“The Sharpe clay mines have been royal purveyors of the purest scarlet clay since 1796. In its liquid form, it is so rich in ore and so malleable that it can produce the strongest bricks and tiles.” He gestured to the jar, left of the machine model.

“May I?” Anthony asked, gesturing to the smaller wooden box with a clay tile in it. Thomas nodded. “I've never seen anything that vibrant a shade of red in my life.” He mused, letting him continue explaining.

“Excessive mining in the last 20 years has caused most of our old deposits to collapse. This is a clay harvester of my own design. It transports the clay upwards as it digs deep.” He turned the machine on. “I have absolutely no doubt this machine will revolutionize clay mining as we know it.” Anthony looked at the machine, amazed.

“This is very impressive.” Thomas looked up, a bit caught off-guard, unused to compliments. Now he had to wonder if it was those two siblings, or it was the country.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Have you had a chance to test it, full-scale?”

“Not yet, but we’re very close. We’re hoping that with funding, it will work. I've built the harvester on my estate, but more parts would be needed to keep it running smoothly.” He explained.

“Of course, of course, my apologies. Do you happen to have schematics? Sketches?” He asked. “I would like to look into this more before I make a decision. I believe it will take a bit of time. Research and all that, I hope you understand.” Thomas nodded, a little surprised he got this far.

“Of course.” He nodded, grabbing a folder from the case. “I have everything right here.” He handed it over--inside were schematics, other information that would hopefully be useful.

“This is genuinely impressive--I apologize for repeating. It's just so well designed.” Anthony smiled for a moment. “I will have to look into it, though I can't make any promises.”

“I understand. It is a bit risky but I wholeheartedly believe it's worth it.”

“I will do what I can to respond quickly. How long are you still staying in Buffalo?"

“I believe we are--my sister and I--staying until autumn. I’m unsure of the exact dates. My sister hasn’t told me anything, yet.” Anthony nodded.

“Well, I can at least guarantee it won't take that long to get an answer.” He chuckled softly. “I'm sorry to cut this short, but I do thank you for being here.” He stood. “It was nice to meet you. I'll have my sister…” He said that as if trying to show a bit of solidarity, or they at least had something in common. “...show you out." As if on cue, there was a rhythmic knock, a code of sorts. He got up and opened it. Cordelia was there. Thomas felt a little less uncomfortable...something about her, something about the way she carried herself.

“I swear I wasn't eavesdropping,” It was honest, but she was a bit nervous about how it came across. She pulled on her sleeve, letting out a soft snicker. “I just came by to drop off some letters for you. Including one from a certain Miss Cushing." She teased Anthony, who blushed a bit in embarrassment.

“Had it not been for witnesses…” He hissed. “I’ll trade you. Would you please show Sir Sharpe out?”

“Do I have to give you the letters?” He gave her a look and she handed them over, begrudgingly. Not that she didn’t want to spend the time with Thomas, she just wanted to see Anthony’s reaction.

“Shall I leave anything here for you to examine further?”

“No, thank you; if you want to take it, please do.” Thomas nodded, packing up the machine and carefully stowing the jar and box.

“Thank you for your time, sir.”

“And thank you for yours.” Anthony smiled, looking over his notes. The baronet looked at Cordelia with a soft smile. Her presence was almost comforting, in a way, he couldn’t quite explain it. She shut the door behind them both.

“Hello.” She greeted as she began to lead him back to the lobby. “How did it go?” She asked gently.

“I believe it went well--at least it seemed to.” He looked at her, tilting his head slightly. “Your brother is much kinder than others I’ve gone to.” He mused, finding the situation rather refreshing, in a way.

“Anthony loves listening to people talk, and their ideas. And from the look at the machine I got when you were putting it back in the case, it was rather interesting.” The comment caught Thomas off-guard. He wouldn’t have guessed a lady like her would have found his clay harvester fascinating. There was a level of intrigue they both felt, curiosity between strangers. The tall Englishman who dressed in dark clothing and spoke with a gentle elegance she was unfamiliar with; the American woman in rich lavender who took an interest in his work, unprovoked, not to just be polite--each unusual to the other, and yet it felt captivating. “So...you've got an accent. English, right?” She asked. “Sorry, I don’t know many people from Europe…”

“No, no, Miss Baker, you don’t need to apologize. I don’t mind answering...though I suppose others will have the same questions, no doubt.” He looked at her with a small smile. “I am from England.”

“Is it nice there?” She asked, looking up at him with a curious smile.

“Where I’m from, it’s rainy and dark in some of the most beautiful ways.” He smiled at her, finding the curiosity endearing. “Not like Buffalo.”

“It sounds beautiful, really.” She smiled, listening intently. Cordelia definitely loved his accent, though she knew there was more to him than what everyone else might care to ask about. High society had a tendency to gloss over personality, beyond the obvious and surface level. “I’ve always wanted to go to England. Everyone I know who’s been there speaks highly of it.” He looked over, a little intrigued. Her smile felt...reassuring, in a way. Her curiosity was almost comforting.

“I think everyone should go to London at least once in their life. It’s quite amazing--the art, architecture…” He looked over. “Perhaps I could be the one to show you, someday.” She looked over, unable to tell if he was subtly flirting, or if he was just being kind. She didn’t know if she was misinterpreting things.

“How could I possibly refuse an offer like that?” She looked over. “If you want, I could show you around Buffalo...make things even?” The idea of spending time with her was inexplicably something he wanted--no, needed. He was drawn to her, he needed to find out more about her. The fact that she would even suggest that she’d give him a tour was astonishing--nobody else he met up until then had brought it up.

“That sounds like a fair deal. I would love that, actually.” He admitted with a smile--it made her blush faintly. It was unexplainable...she had no idea how this man had an effect on her already. They reached the lobby, the door in sight. The soft evening light started filtering in through the glass.

“You know...I’m hosting a party on Friday night--this Friday…” She got irritated with herself, internally, wondering if she was embarrassing herself by talking too much. “...if you would be interested, you are more than welcome there.”

“Really?” He sounded a bit stunned. “I would very much enjoy that. Would it be alright if my sister came along with me? I’d hate to leave her out.”

“If she wants to, of course she can.” She looked at him with a soft smile.

“Well, that’s great.” He smiled back, brightly. “Until then, Miss Baker?”

“I’m already looking forward to it, Sir Sharpe.” He took his hat, putting it on and chuckling softly as he left. With him gone, she sighed. There was something about him that she couldn’t describe. Cordelia immediately set off to bother Anthony for information. She knocked on the door and opened it. Her brother had a completely smitten look as he was reading over the letter. “So...how’s Edith?” She teased, amused.

“She’s fine.” He muttered, closing the letter and putting it on top of the papers.

“Have either of you told the other, yet?”

“No. Stop asking.” He looked at her, half-glaring. “And don’t ask about the baronet. I’m not giving you anything, yet.”

“Fine, fine.” She shook her head. “Then I’ll get back to planning the party.”

“Alright. Have fun.”

[cockasinthebird]

To @withoneheadlight, and a huuuge thank you for the inspiration!!!❤️💕 I deviated a bit from the “original script,” I hope that’s ok 😌

I just couldn’t stop thinking about your post??? I dropped everything to write it, and it might be a bit rushed because of it, but it was so much fun!! So please, do enjoy~

-

The sun is too bright, the cars outside his window too loud, the fucking seagulls cawing and screeching.

Billy hadn’t come home yesterday again, and at this point who even knows how many times he’s spent the night in someone else's bed.

Not that it’s really any of Steve’s business, of course, they just live together, barely even friends but on tolerable terms, at least. Tolerable meaning they’ve made peace; Billy apologised during Steve’s last year of high school, and when he started working at Scoops Ahoy after graduating, Billy always saw it fit to come by-

“Picking up my shitty sister,” as he put it.

And when Steve started working at Family Videos-

“Waiting for Max to finish up at the arcade,” he’d claim as he browsed, “You, uhh, recommend anything?”

Not that it isn’t still hostile between them, but maybe that’s just how Billy is, and maybe that’s just how Steve likes him. Mean and rude and inconsiderable at times. Yet Steve’s favourite cereal is always stocked up, laundry washed, dishes done, and he feels guilty.

Guilty that he doesn’t do more at their shared apartment. Guilty that he never really thanks Billy for what he does. Guilty that he has an undeniable crush on his ex-nemesis now roommate.

With a heavy sigh, Steve drags himself out of bed, head throbbing from having drowned in sorrows in a bottle of straight jack. Slips on a pair of socks so as to not touch the chilly floor, and a shirt, large and black with Metallica printed on front; a shirt that isn’t his, that he “stole” from the dryer a few days ago. He gives the collar a sniff and it doesn’t smell of Billy - it smells of the laundry detergent they use, but knowing that Billy has worn it before is enough to warm his aching heart just a slight bit.

Stupid stupid stupid, he repeats in his mind as he inches toward the door of his bedroom.

Save for the floorboards creaking underneath his sluggish weight, it’s quiet. No tv running, no music from Billy’s bedroom, no grunting as he lifts weights on the bench that takes up far too much of the living room.

He’s not here. Billy’s not here. 

Steve continues reminding himself how idiotic it was of him to even come out here. California is far away from his parents' reach, a place where he can maybe find out who he is, and Billy always talked about coming back here, so them moving in together was “convenient.”

However, so far all Steve has found out about himself is that he doesn’t know how to cook, gets sunburnt so easily that it’s laughable, and that he’s all too invested in Billy’s personal life.

When he opens the cupboard and finds Kellogg’s Apple Jacks™ on the shelf, a new and unopened pack, he groans in defeat as his heart does its usual dance and song, because of course Billy had ensured there was food for Steve. He always fucking does.

He pours them into his favourite bowl, a white one with fancy flowers painted in blue, stolen from his old home to just have something from his parents with him, and next goes milk. He yawns wide before shoveling in the first mouthful, the one that’s always perfectly crunchy and having just started tasting of cinnamon before it all becomes a soggy mess.

About halfway through the bowl, the floorboards behind him creaks and he nearly drops the bowl as he jumps, spilling a bit of milk on the floor.

Steve spins around to find Billy there, dressed in only his sweatpants, eyes cast down at where he was apparently staring at Steve’s ass, who’s quick to realise that he hadn’t bothered with underwear because he was oh so convinced he’d be alone for at least two more hours.

“O-oh, Billy, I-I didn’t hear you come in last night,” he stutters under the intense stare, placing the bowl on the counter and hopes it isn’t too noticeable when he gathers his legs.

Billy doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything, simply looks down Steve’s naked legs, eyes burning and hungry. When he finally meets Steve’s gaze, he wets his lips before rasping out,

“I came home like an hour ago, was about to take a shower but wanted coffee first, and…” he trails off, and so does his eyes again.

Steve is… unnecessarily excited under those heady, ocean blues as they take in all that he is. Feels himself swell at the attention, but paralysed by shock of having been caught by Billy in Billy’s shirt and practically nothing else. 

And Billy steps through the door frame into the kitchen. Keeps walking slowly, cautiously maybe, he makes his way to where Steve leans against the counter, fingers curled around the edge with anticipation and a bit of fear.

Normally he’d have guessed that Billy would call him names, mock him with a poisoned grin, but with such heavy lids and mouth slightly open, that doesn’t seem like the most likely outcome to this, and it only thrills Steve all the more.

Billy comes to a standstill in front of Steve, feet almost touching, and he leans closer, places his left hand next to Steve’s, thumb touching skin there. And he bites into his plump lower lip, eyes dancing across Steve’s features just to land on his mouth, mind clearly working away at something.

Up this close Steve catches a whiff of cigarettes and the usual cologne, maybe a bit of sweat from whatever he’s been doing all night. Or whoever. He can feel Billy’s calm and collected breathing ghost across his lips, and his heart stops beating in anticipation, lips quiver, dick hopeful.

“Is that my shirt?” Billy mumbles out and tugs at the hem that stops mid-cheek on Steve’s slighter frame. 

He might be taller by a few inches, but he still swims in the shirt stretched out by Billy’s broad shoulders and chiseled pecs.

“Y-yeah…”

At that, Billy’s fingers let go of the shirt, then spread out against Steve’s skin. He takes an all too loud breath at the electric jolt Billy’s warm palm urges out, shooting straight to between his thighs where his cock gives a curious little kick.

The hand wanders, across his thigh to his front, moving at a pace so slow it can only be deliberate, Billy teasing him, or maybe waiting for him to say stop.

But he doesn’t, so he doesn’t.

Smooths the tips of his fingers higher up, through the coarse pubic hair, till he reaches the base of Steve’s shaft, the palm of his hand grazing against the lazy head, effectively making him grow harder, and gasp out a breathy, “Fuck.”

Billy moves closer again, knee pushing Steve’s legs apart, noses nuzzling together, lips like feathers, daring Steve to kiss him.

He moans instead, as the hand tickling his skin closes in an expert fist, possibly giving away just how many times Billy must have done the same notion to himself. A thought that delights Steve to impossible extends, knowing that the hand Billy jerks off with is now stroking him under the shirt.

“Fuck, Billy,” Steve whimpers and brings a hand to steady himself on Billy’s firm shoulder.

And he can’t wait any more; presses their lips together and is immediately met with the same fervor he offers up - soft lips in a hard embrace, touching each other as if they’ve always wanted this, as if all the strife in their past was just tension and unresolved shit that culminated to punches and bleeding noses.

The motion of Billy’s fist is relentless, and Steve has to break away to breathe. “A-ah, shit, Billy!”

He bites his way down Steve’s neck, painful and delicious, stroking his now fully erect cock like he’s eager to have him cum, wanting to watch Steve unravel and cry out his name.

And just as Steve is seconds away from ruining the shirt, Billy pulls off, leaving behind an ache that makes Steve cry out from the edge of release.

“Fuck! Billy you asshole, why-” he doesn’t get to finish that thought before he’s spun around, a hand on his upper back pushing him against the counter, head throbbing worse than his filled dick. “Billy- Billy!”

“Want me to stop?” Billy snaps a bit too loud, a bit too sudden, but the answer is inevitably,

“No,” and Steve is set on that. 

He’s wanted this for far too long; suspects that he’s been craving Billy since before he graduated, but didn’t dare think about it too long. Spent some extra time restocking the porn section of Family Videos in the backroom behind the curtain, borrowed a few gay ones in secret. He was more than curious, he was interested.

Now he’s here, cheek pressed against the cold surface of their kitchen counter, eyes closed to the world as he focuses on how Billy’s holding him down with one hand, the other squeezing his ass, spreading him, exposing him, and-

It is slick and wet and weird when Billy licks his fat tongue flat across his hole. Not bad weird as far as he can tell from the way his entire body squirms with pleasure, his prick leaking, and he gasps when Billy does it again.

And again. He grabs on with both hands as he sloppily eats out Steve’s ass, sucking with wet lips, tongue sliding over the rim time and time again, the tip prodding at his entrance, making him moan out, whimpering for more without as many words.

Billy seems almost happy to oblige, shoving his tongue in, and Steve knows what that looks like, but to feel it? His body is on fire, burning hot and white, feeling better than he ever thought it actually would; he knows the men on those tapes are just actors, always just believed they were exaggerating, but no.

Steve has never been this aroused in his fucking life, 21 years old and hornier than he ever was as a teenager surrounded by hot girls. None of them he ever slept with made him feel this… incredible, and he has none other than Billy fucking Hargrove to thank for it. With every lick and suck and penetration he’s nearing the edge again, faster than he ever thought he could, to be honest, but it’s just not enough to get him there.

“Billy- Billy please, I’m so close, please touch me,” he begs with a voice all indecent, drooling a bit on the counter as he stays flat and powerless, simply unable to do anything.

Then he’s left alone, ready to complain and tell Billy, “Fuck you,” but when he glances over his shoulder, he sees Billy whip out his fat cock, and Steve sucks in a quick breath, eyes wide and amazed. He’s seen it before, in the showers at school, accidentally in the shower of their apartment, but never like this… so girthy and veiny, red and shiny with pre.

Billy grabs Steve by the hips, and for a moment he thinks that Billy’s just going to fuck him, right here right now, unprepped, dry, it’s probably going to hurt, but Steve’s so curious to finally find out what that feels like- what Bill’s dick feels like, what it’s like to have sex with Billy.

Yet he’s still relieved when he instead feels it between his cheeks, rubbing through the spit and across his rim. He gasps and moans all the same though, lets Billy control the pace as he with a bruising grip on Steve’s hips pulls him into his thrusts, skin slapping together in an obscene fashion that makes Steve’s cock drip and throb, keeping him on that sharp edge of orgasm.

“Shit, Billy, ah-h,” Steve whines out a plea.

When a hand closes around his aching cock again, he moans unadulterated, the pleasure of Billy’s every touch pushing the hangover into the background. The rhythm is erratic in a sense, quick then slow, all the way up or shallow, but in tact with how Billy’s hips meets Steve’s cheeks, keeping him from cumming as if he’s wanting to time it, have them both cumming together at once.

But Billy cums first; he’s quick to pull up the tee and paints Steve’s back with hot and warm semen, grunting a few times as he stops pounding against Steve’s ass. He then bends over to get a better grip on Steve’s cock as he jerks him to completion with a few practiced flicks of his wrist, Steve being loud in comparison and definitely less controlled, eyes rolling back to watch the fireworks as he spills over the cupboard beneath them.

In that moment he’s beyond thankful that Billy’s there behind him, supporting him and keeping him caught against the countertop, or he might just fall to the floor as his legs give out. As he lays there, for a moment in complete bliss with no headache, eyes closed, panting, he feels Billy wipe his back clean with a napkin.

“Can you stand?” he sounds all too amused, hands down on Steve’s hips, rubbing where his fingers might just have left a few bruises.

“I’m… I’m, ahh, yeah,” Steve exhales and pushes himself up and standing.

He turns around to watch Billy tuck himself away again, chest heaving a bit, a rather relaxed expression on his face, and when their eyes meet he smiles. Not a grin, nor a smirk, but an actual smile, and it makes Steve’s heart throb and bleed and hope.

“You can keep the shirt, I guess,” Billy shrugs all nonchalantly, as if they hadn’t just been doing whatever they were doing. “I’m gonna take a shower now, wanna join me?”

[evermorehaikyuu]

Day 14

Title: Soulmates? Not Exactly. 

Note: I was listening to Tightrope as I wrote this and now I’m sad, highkey, I teared up at the end. ANYWAYS, no deaths here, just angst. Man, I really did enjoy writing this, though.

˜”*°•.˜”*°•.•°*”˜.•°*”˜ 

Do your best. 

Those were the words engraved on his wrist and Tanaka almost had an aneurysm at the sight. Most of the time, the words came out when people were fourteen or thirteen, and they had years to find out who their soulmate was. But Tanaka had received his at seventeen. When he read them, he was as excited as ever. They seemed like common words but only someone specific would tell him. 

His childhood best friend, Y/N L/N, hadn’t gotten hers yet and she was always wondering why. “I probably don’t have a soulmate.”

“Cheer up, Y/N, I’m sure there are other people like you.” Tanaka said, before realizing that it was actually a rude thing to say and tried to backpedal. “Wait, I’m sorry, that was mean--”

Y/N looked at him, shaking her head with a small smile. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I’ll find love I guess, I don’t need a soulmate to find love.” 

However, it still made her dejected as she saw couples holding hands on the streets, their wrists marked with a small yet visible circle to say that they’ve found their soulmate. Her wrists were blank every time she saw them.

High school came and went as quickly as a monarch butterfly. Y/N could only watch as her best friend got a new crush on his manager.

“What if she isn’t the one? What if she isn’t my soulmate?” Tanaka complained as he lied across her lap back at her house. He looked down at his wrist, the bold black words shining and reflecting at him. They would tell him who he would spend the rest of his life with. 

~

It was the day before one of the biggest games of the entire season. Tanaka was preparing himself and training in order to get himself to his highest potential. He was ready, he was good to go, he knew his game plan and everything. While he wasn’t the smartest person academically (thankfully, Y/N helped him pass with at least decent grades) , when it came to his sport, he was right on the spot.

Heading to the gym, Takeda and Kiyoko had said something about their old banner and they pulled it out, taking the team aback as they watched the two characters across a silky black labarum. Kiyoko stammered over her words before looking to the side, a deep blush in her cheeks. “Do your best.”

The third and second years stayed there, staring at her while letting tears come out of their eyes. Incoherently babbling, Tanaka and Nishinoya held onto each other, thinking that this was the happiest day of their entire lives.

“Wait. Ryu, what are the words on your wrist?” Nishinoya said after they pulled themselves together.

Tanaka checked the words on his wrist and he grinned widely. “Now I have to go and talk to her and see if she’s my soulmate!”

“Lucky!” Nishinoya groaned, shaking his head as he looked at the inside of his wrist. It was in a different language, and that both excited him and made him sigh. Adventure was going to be in his grasp, but he was slightly disappointed. It didn’t matter.

Tanaka looked after Kiyoko, hearts in his eyes. He started walking to the bus and turned around hearing, “Ryu!”

Y/N was racing towards him, her hair windblown. He wondered what she was doing here on a Saturday morning. “I wanted to see you before you go to your game!”

“I wish you could come with us, see your best friend in action.” Tanaka chuckled.

Something about those words tugged at Y/N’s heartstrings. Was it “best friend”? No, that couldn’t be, she had no feelings for her best friend. He wasn’t hers, he was someone else’s. She didn’t even know what her soulmate would tell her. She looked down at her wrist, changing the topic, and shook her head. “Nothing yet.”

Tanaka looked at her, pity in his eyes. He bit his lip, not wanting to tell her that he had found his soulmate. He didn’t even question the fact that he didn’t have a circle replacing the words in his wrist. It’d be inconsiderate of him and as much as he teased her about it, his goal was not to aggravate her about it. “You’ll get it soon. Remember what you told me? You don’t need words on your wrist to find love. You’ll find your other soon.”

“TANAKA!” Daichi hollered from inside the bus.

He looked up at the bus and back at Y/N, smiling. “I’ll come over later if you want? We can get your favorite snacks and watch your favorite movie.”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, putting her head on his chest as he pulled her closer to him, a soft and fond smile directed towards her. He pulled away from her and got onto the bus. The bus departed immediately after he took his seat.

Y/N watched as the bus got out of her sight, a small and quizzical frown on her face. What was she feeling? There was no way she had fallen for someone with a soulmate already, even worse when that person was her best friend. All she could do is shove those feelings away. They could be dealt with another day. She started walking back home, the breeze flowing through her hair. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t realize she was right in front of her house until her body subconsciously opened the door.

Tell me, Tanaka, what does it feel like to be guaranteed love?

~

It was the perfect day. Bright smiles were plastered on everyone’s faces. Nothing would be able to ruin this day, Y/N was absolutely sure of it. She would be damned if something came in between her best friend’s wedding. Everything was planned down to the smallest detail, from the groom’s boutonnière to the bride’s flowers.

Tanaka and Kiyoko, the duo that people half expected but never expected that this day would come for them. It was like walking a tightrope. It didn’t matter.

He was in his room, getting ready until his wedding day jitters kicked in. “Shit...where’s Y/N?”

As if on cue, Y/N knocked and walked inside, ready in her blue bridesmaid dress. It was obvious that her stylist had made sure that her hair brought out her eyes and when she walked into a room, the radiance coming off of her made everyone’s jaw drop. It didn’t fail on Tanaka. He stared at her, a gentle smile crossing his face as he recalled the times they had in high school. “You look gorgeous.”

“Ryu, don’t say that on your wedding day.” She grinned at him, closing the door behind them. “Nervous?”

“You know me too well.” Tanaka waved her over, sitting in the chair across from her. He stared at his bouncing legs, wringing his hands together. “What if she says no?”

“For one, that’s a waste of cake, I’d be offended. I spent hours looking for the perfect cake and if she doesn’t eat it, what a shame.” Y/N said, making him laugh. Just that laugh in itself made her smile. She took it upon herself to be the one that would make him smile when he couldn’t and she never failed. She never planned to. “But in all seriousness, she won’t say no. You two have come too far for her to back down now.”

“But--”

“Nope. It’s your day. Enjoy it. She’d be insane if she didn’t say yes, you treat her so well.” She found herself saying the words with a bittersweet tone. It had been years and she tried to cover that tone up, but it was impossible. 

He took a deep breath and nodded. “I think I’m ready.”

“Do your best.”

“I think I can do more than my best if you’re by my side.” Tanaka smiled at her and said, “I think they’re calling you. It’s your turn.”

“Right.” With a quick hug, she rushed to get in her place, feeling a tingly sensation on her wrist. With her heart pounding, she turned her wrist over and found black letters slowly appearing. I think I can do more than my best if you’re by my side. 

Oh no. Oh no no no no. This can’t be happening. Y/N stared at the words, recalling what Tanaka had said. Of all days for her to finally get the words she’d wanted all her life, it had to be on the day that her best friend--no, her soulmate--was getting married to someone else. 

Following the bridesmaids down the aisle, Tanaka looked over at Y/N, but Y/N could not look at him as she held her mini bouquet tighter. Nothing would stop this day. Nothing would ruin this day. Not even if the universe was laughing at her misfortune.

Kiyoko walked down the aisle, looking dazzling in her ornate white dress and holding pink, red and white flowers in a bouquet. Y/N watched as Tanaka stared at her, tearing up as Kiyoko reached the altar. Both of them looked over at her and she nodded in reassurance. What Y/N was thinking was that she was the one that had to be in the dress. Kiyoko didn’t belong there, it was her.

But as they sealed their union with a kiss and cheers started flying up, Y/N found herself clapping along with the audience. A single tear started falling down her cheek and she quickly brushed it away with her hand, trying not to ruin her makeup. People would assume she was ecstatic for the newlyweds: after all, it was the friend that she’d been with all her life. There was only one thing wrong with that statement. 

It wasn’t a tear of happiness. It was a tear of losing someone she could’ve had.

I was too late. 

~

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