#he reminds me of one of my coworkers but i think its just the hair

[reidmotif]

Dialing up for Trouble

Summary: Reader and Spencer were fuck-buddies, until Spencer cuts her off quite suddenly. A party and some risque images may be enough to get them back to their old routine.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: semi-public sex, sexting, mentions of nude images and descriptions of generic lingerie, masturbation (f!receiving), penetrative sex, semi-dom!spencer

Word Count: 3.5 k

Masterlist

Clichés bothered me. There was no other way to put it. I’d grown up hating the likes of love triangles, meet-cutes, chosen ones, and right now, I was being reminded more than ever of that hatred because, what the fuck? 

“Too much of a good thing” was the reasoning Spencer had cited when he proposed we stop sleeping together casually, and return to our previous relationship of  “just coworkers”. I’d let him know how ridiculous I found his sentiment, and attempted every possible method to continue our secret rendezvous, but he was absolutely dead-set on his decision, it seemed.

 No more sex. No more late-night calls. None of it. It was all over. All because of a cliche. 

We seemed to agree on one thing, and that was, yes. The sex was fantastic. It really was that good. While I’d never wish weariness on Spencer Reid, I couldn’t deny that in the aftermath of stress and frustration from whatever life had chosen for him, the way he’d deal with that was absolutely electrifying for me.

I’d find myself constantly breathless, pulled into hotel rooms, storage closets- anything resembling the barest hint of privacy, and allow him to use me as he saw fit. I gave him complete trust and control over my body, and in turn, he rewarded me with some incredibly life-changing orgasms. And for what it’s worth, he seemed to get an equal amount of satisfaction out of our hidden trysts, which only made his recent decision that more devastating.  

It’d been roughly a month since we’d had sex, or anything resembling the sort, and I found myself absolutely deprived. When the FBI gave out invitations to its semi-annual gala, I imagined the festivities would be enough to distract me, but I was completely in error for assuming so. Amidst drinks and conversations, there was the occasional lull where I couldn’t help but absentmindedly imagine the feel of his hands over my skin, squeezing the fat of my hips. His lips trailing up and down my neck, focusing on spots only he knew about. The way his hair would tickle against my thighs when he’d bury his head-

“Hey.” 

The voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I have to remind myself not to choke on my beverage. There he was. The current subject of my thoughts, standing in front of me, live and in the flesh. Spencer Reid. 

“Hey.” I mirror back, taking a sip of my drink, acting as lax as I could, given the circumstances. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, gesturing to the party in front of us, the general ambience. 

“You know me.” He replies, pausing for a second, keeping his gaze trained on mine. “Not my scene but.. doable.” 

I chuckle for a moment, understanding perfectly. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most social guy out there. I was honestly surprised he’d chosen to come to this thing at all in the first place. 

“You look nice.” He says, suddenly. “Your dress. It’s nice.” He rushes out the words, as if he’s scared to say them in the first place. 

I smooth down the fabric instinctively, nodding. I try not to let the compliment affect me so much, keeping my head down for a split second to hide the creeping heat emanating from my cheeks. 

 “Thank you. I appreciate it.” 

I surprise myself with my own answer. The silence for that tick is horrible. I appreciate it? Jesus. I couldn’t think of the right words anymore. The correct and witty response that would allow this conversation to flow smoothly. 

 I truly wanted to fuck this man so bad, it made me look stupid. 

And stupid I was, because yet again, I attempted to test the current parameters of our relationship he’d put us on. I swallow my pride, lifting my head to meet his eyes with mine. 

“If you like it so much, you could- you know. Take it off.” I say, biting my lip. There’s a light tease in my voice, but it’s obvious I’m being as forthcoming as I possibly could. No games. No jokes. I didn’t want to dance around it, and I hoped my boldness would reward me as it did previously in the past. 

But no, it seems that fortune does not favor the bold, because Spencer’s immediate response was to shake his head, lowering his voice. He pulled on my arm to decrease our proximity, to the point where it was ensured no passer-bys could possibly hear our conversation. 

“Come on.” He pleads, almost looking desperate.  “I told you we should stop- hasn’t that worked out? We can be coworkers. This works.”

I roll my eyes, letting my displeasure show plainly over my face. “This works?” I say, and the sarcasm is clear in my voice. “Sex worked too, you know.” 

“I know it did!” He says, in a hushed whisper. “But- we can’t. No. It’s not right. Too much of a-” 

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to god.” I say, my expression turning much more volatile. I forcibly shrug his arm off me. “This is stupid.” I continue, trying not to let my voice rise. “I see the way you look at me. I know it was good for both of us. I know you’re thinking about it just as much as I am, so why not!” There’s a hint of hurt in my voice as well. Underneath all the sex, I’d grown to miss the interactions after. The giggles under covers and the feel of his hair in my fingers. I missed him. All of him. 

There’s a miserable pause on his end, and I hold my breath waiting for his next words. Spencer sputters, looking absolutely defeated. “Because- because we just can’t, okay?” He replies, helplessly, stepping back from me, as I’d done with him. “Look. I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the party, okay? Take care of yourself, yeah?” 

Before I can get in another word, demanding a real explanation from the man, he leaves me alone, replaying the words of his confusing outburst in my mind. 

I take a short time to myself, electing to go use the restroom and take a breather from the party, a bit on edge after our exchange. Was it possible he was completely fine with what the loss of our arrangement had done to us? Was I the only one absolutely losing my mind? Any attempt to diverge my attention from the topic proved futile, and  I remained in the closed room, mindlessly adjusting myself in the mirror with no real rhyme or reason. There’s an eventual use of my phone, focusing the camera directly on my face to make sure nothing had smudged or looked off on my face in the time I’d last checked my makeup. In the use of the device, I remembered the pictures I’d taken before coming here. 

The pictures weren’t meant to serve any true purpose. I’d bought new lingerie for this dress, as my previous bras weren’t suited to the cut and shape of the specific piece of clothing, and decided to take a few pictures for myself. It was lacy, and pretty, but nothing truly special. The bra had a slight push-up effect, and the panties were a bit cheekier than my normal, day-to-day undergarments.  The actual lingerie was innocent- harmless, even. Looking at the images right now, though, a salacious idea creeped into my head. 

Under the right circumstances, these could be exactly the catalyst to finally receiving what I wanted. 

I open the messaging app on my phone, finding Spencer’s contact, and beginning to type out a simple message. 

hey. 

The response is immediate. 

What’s up? 

You good? 

Where’d you go? 

I laugh a little. I imagined him scanning the crowd for me, trying to figure out where I’d gone off to. 

all good, don’t worry

so we’re still sticking to the no sex thing? 

I see his typing bubble pop up, then pause. Then starts up again. 

Yes. 

Trust me, it’s for the better. 

I groan internally. Of course he thinks that. Always thinks he knows what’s good for everyone. 

trust me 

if you knew what i had planned for us

you wouldn’t say that

I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, indicating he was now calling me? I hadn’t planned for this. 

“Spencer?” I remark, waiting for his voice on the line. 

“What do you mean?” He says, quickly. I can no longer hear the bustle of the party in the background, so it’s only reasonable to assume he’s moved somewhere quieter. Still, I ask. 

“Are you around other people?” I murmur, keeping my voice low. 

“No. Alone. What did you mean by your last message?” He repeats, quickly. 

There’s my in. I respond, feigning an unmistakable innocence in my voice. “Mind if I show you?” 

“Show me?” The confusion in his voice is palpable. 

“Show you.” I reply, more definitively.  “Check your messages.” 

I bring my phone away from my ear, electing to send the first picture I saw in my camera roll,  which prominently featured my breasts- a feature of mine I knew Spencer was quite interested in. I return to the call, my heart pounding wildly. 

“Did you see?” I ask, hesitantly, when all I can hear is his breathing on the other line. 

The response is a choked out, breathy mess of a sentence. “Yeah- I did. Jesus.” 

“Want more?” I murmur, biting my lip as the realization dawned on me that this possibly had a chance of working. 

There’s a delay in his words on the line, before I finally hear:

“Yes. God, yes.” 

I grin ear-to-ear, beginning to send an assortment of pictures I’d taken previously in the day. Knowing this was having an effect on him, that somewhere in this party Spencer was sitting alone, his gaze trained on his phone intently, did something to me. He was behaving this way because of my body, because of what I could do to him. 

It was hard not to get wet at the thought. 

“You look so good.” He breathes out, and the desire in his voice is unmistakable. 

“Yeah?” I mumble to the speaker. “You think so?” 

“Mhm.” He murmurs. “You’re wearing this right now?” He asks, seemingly needing that confirmation at this moment.  

“In all its glory.” I try not to giggle before murmuring teasingly, “What, you wanna see?” 

“Where are you?” He asks, suddenly seeming very determined. I can hear the shuffling on the other line, indicating he was now starting to move from where he was currently situated. He was completely, and utterly serious about this. 

“Bathroom, on the left corridor of the entrance.” I say, feeling exhilarated at the thought of him meeting me here. This was happening. 

Finally. 

“Stay.” He replies, and the call cuts. 

There’s an impatient itch that creeps up on me during the two-minute wait for him, before I hear a solid knock on the door, and my name being whispered through the door, belonging to a voice I’d grown so accustomed to and fond of. 

My fingers undo the lock, opening it just enough so that he could squeeze through without drawing too much attention to ourselves right now. 

And as soon as he’s managed in, he’s practically on me, devouring me with a kiss with a passion I’d never felt from him before. My hands go to wrap around his neck, pressing our bodies flush against each other, every ragged breath of his shooting directly to my core, which was now throbbing with need. 

“Fuck. Missed this so much.” He breathes out, gasping for air in between our kisses. I couldn’t so much as get a whimper out, before he’d dive right in again. It’s like he wanted to eat me alive. 

And I’d let him. 

I moan softly into his mouth, starved for more contact between us. It’s as if he can read my mind, because in an instant,  he guides us from the center of the bathroom, towards a wall, slotting his thigh between my legs. He takes a momentary break from ravishing me with his lips, now adopting a slower, more sensual pace as he works down my neck, each soft kiss leaving me craving him even more.  

His hands drift down to my hips, keeping me pinned against the wall as he murmured soft praises. My legs felt wobbly, absolutely taken aback by how quickly I could go weak for this man. 

“You like this, mm?” He mumbles, letting his teeth nip over the lobe of my ear, before switching to a more neglected side of my neck. “Like me that much, mm?” 

I don’t care about the cockiness in his tone. I don’t care how smug I render him. I just need him to continue this, for as long as I can have him. 

“Yes.” I breathe out, my voice higher-pitched than it normally would be. “God. Love this so much.” 

There’s a flash of hesitance from him, as he pulls his face away from my neck, staring at my eyes with his own. I can’t dwell on the pause, because for once, I’m finally seeing him. His hair was absolutely ruined, sticking up wildly in different directions. His cheeks were a light pink, serving to make his features even prettier and doe-like than before. But what got me were his eyes. His pupils were blown out, the normal honey-hazel I’d seen on a daily basis replaced with an absolute abyss of black. The darkness served to cause a surge within me, practically launching forward to meet his lips with mine. 

There are no words required for what happens next, as I feel his hand creep up my back, pulling me away from the wall and towards the closest surface, which happened to be the sink. He guides me to bend over, and I do so with no resistance.

 He could have me, whichever way he wanted, whenever he wanted. All I needed was his touch. 

I can feel him crouch to his knees, slowly reaching under my dress to hook his fingers around my panties, slowly pulling them down. I can feel a string of my arousal clinging to the fabric, and it seems Spencer can too, because he practically moans as he drags the soiled piece of lingerie down my thighs. I step out of them quickly, and turn my head back, fast enough to see him stuff the proof of our debauchery down his suit pocket. 

“Eyes ahead.” He whispers, leaning down close to my ear to nip at the sensitive flesh again. 

“Okay.” I murmur, slipping into a more submissive version of myself that he seemed to bring out in me. There’s a sense of relaxation and excitement all at the same time, and I’m absolutely wracked with lust for him. 

His fingers stroke my clit for a moment, applying pressure in just the right way. The movements are practiced, precise and guaranteed to hurl me off the edge if he continues this way. 

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He murmurs, almost amazed,  letting his fingers slip away. “All this for me?” 

I can barely respond, whimpering and nodding. “Yes. Please- Spencer.” I beg, needily. 

“I know, I know.” He replies, and I can hear how pleased he is. There’s a certain delight he derives from my submission, and while in any other circumstance, the smugness he displays would turn me off, right now it only served to further my hunger. 

I can feel him start to work on his belt, sliding the coarse material of his dress pants just enough, so that his cock could spring free. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, his tip sliding through my folds, and I clench at the thought of him finally being inside of me. 

Just when I believed his teasing to be done, there’s a knock at the door, and we both freeze. Spencer swallows, and quickly raises his voice. “Occupied!” 

There’s silence, and that previous sense of lust and content drifts back into our bodies, Spencer’s fingers trace up to my face, and he lets his finger slip into my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his fingers, and there’s a genuine struggle on my end to stay upright. How could I, when the man behind me rendered me so indisposed? 

He draws his fingers out of my mouth. “Good girl.” He whispers.

It seems the universe has other plans though, because yet again- a knock sounds at the door. I can hear Spencer’s groan, and watch through the mirror as he attempts to come up with a response that would give us the seclusion we required. 

My patience however, had worn thin. His cock was right there, and I’d be damned if I was forced to wait any longer. I turn my head towards the door, complacency and submission gone from my voice. 

“Do you mind? I’m trying to fuck him in here!” I say, snarking out the words. 

There’s a silence, and a murmur of mortification on the other side of the door. Footsteps. And then at last, silence. 

Spencer quickly leans down to kiss my cheek, mumbling out an “I love you.” 

Before I can even comprehend the words, he’s guiding himself into me, sliding his cock through my walls, and I have to bite my lip to keep a scream in. He feels so fucking good inside of me, stretching me out in ways no man ever could. I can feel the underside of his cock hitting that spongy spot deep inside of me, and my breathing turns rapid in mere seconds. 

“There we go, relax for me baby, yeah?” He mumbles. “Nice and slow.” 

I moan out my affirmative, gripping onto the sink as I let my jaw drop, eyes squeezing in absolute ecstasy. “So good for me.” He murmurs. “So warm and wet, Jesus.” 

And with that, he starts a pace that works for both of us. It’s hard and fast, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The feel of his cock gliding through my puffy walls is intoxicating, and I can only wonder how I went so long without feeling it. 

It seems Spencer’s having similar  thoughts, because through my moans and his occasional groans, I can feel his grip on my hips get more bruising by the second, marking me as his own. I can hear occasional fragments of words through his noises. 

“Never letting you go. Oh fuck. Fuck.” He mumbles, and despite the overwhelming amount of arousal shooting through me, my heart swells. 

“Me too.” I whimper out, gripping the sink even harder. I can feel my wetness seeping all around us, splashing against my thighs with every movement he drives into me. “Need you so badly.” 

“Rub your clit for me.” He demands, whispering out the words. “Need to see you come on my cock first, pretty girl.” The words are strained, and I can tell he’s doing everything to keep from spilling inside of me prematurely. 

There’s no reason to temporize, and my fingers make their way down to the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the effect is almost immediate. It takes roughly a minute of my incessant rubbing and the feel of him inside me before I’m coming with a soft shout, growing limp against the sink as my muscles twitch and fill me with a deep sense of relief and satisfaction. 

Spencer isn’t far behind me, humping into me a few more times before coming inside of me, the release signified with a loud moan and a sense of warmth flooding my deepest point. He slumps against my back, pressing a few, soft kisses to my neck. 

As we both come down from our highs, I recall the words Spencer mumbled in my ear previously. I let out a self-satisfied giggle, which Spencer smiles at. 

“Mm. What’s that about?” He murmurs. 

“You love me?” I ask, softly. 

A pause. 

“A little.” He responds, voice equally as soft. 

“Is that why you stopped having sex with me?” I mumble out, gently. 

He presses another kiss to the nape of my neck. “Mhm. Please don’t be mad.” 

I let out a soft chuckle. “Not mad. The opposite, really.” 

He pulls me up, causing us both to look at each other. “You feel the same way?” 

I nod, biting my lip. “We could try this out, I think. I want to, Spencer.” 

I stop, and decide I do need to tease him a bit, especially after the sex-less agony he put me through for a month. 

“Though, I do recall someone telling me too much of a good thing can go bad..” 

His lips part in confusion, before he picks up the teasing nature of my words and leans in for a soft, simple kiss. He keeps his forehead on mind, his eyes staring into mine with a gentle reverence. 

“Let’s indulge just this once.” 

holy shit has it been a long time since i've written a fic!! i'm so sorry?! i've been dealing with life and other assorted things and writing sort of took a backseat in that period of time <3 i hope this was okay. as usual any feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are so so greatly appreciated. i love writing for spencer, and i hope you guys like that writing too <3 i'm sorry that the two previous fics i promised seem to be delayed, i swear i'm gonna write those next, but inspiration sort of just struck on my end f or this, and i hope it was good <3 but yeah!! thank you so much for reading and interacting with this in any way you choose!! i appreciate it greatly!!

[secretlovezz]

can you write anything with bau! reader x spencer, who are expecting a baby🥺 i love dad spencer sm🫶🏻

Yes omg dad!Spencer he's my favorite! Hope you like this 🫶❤️

Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: reader a little upset (Spence makes her feel better tho), pregnancy (duh), flufffffff, short and sweet, not proofread, wordcount: 582

You try your best to focus on the task at hand, the stack of paperwork you had been putting off all week, emails on top of emails gathering in your computer's inbox, but the kicks of the baby growing inside you keep your mind elsewhere. Her little, still growing, feet kick into your ribs harshly making any position you try to move into uncomfortable, she just can't seem to keep still today; absolutely restless.

If you were home you might whine to your husband, Spencer, maybe even cry out of frustration but being surrounded by coworkers keeps you from doing both just as much as the baby keeps you from work.

Spencer watches as you rest your left hand on top of your bump -your thumb moving gently back and forth against the fabric of your top- and he smiles at the ring adorned on your finger, but when he takes notice of the slight discomfort etched onto your face his grin quickly dissipates. Your brows are drawn together in what seems to be annoyance, your eyes are closed, and your head is tipped back as you swivel your desk chair back and forth in an attempt to calm yourself and your little one.

you can feel Spencer's eyes raking your figure -he's always been able to read you just as quickly as he can read books- and you keep your eyes shut to avoid his worried glance despite your current need for his safeguard. You don't want him to think you're dramatic, that maybe you're being annoying despite knowing he would never think something like that of you and never has.

One of your eyes cracks open to glance at him and you hope the quick movement of you swiveling in your chair will keep him from noticing your peeking, but of course, he's far too perceptive to not detect your gaze. His head cocks to the side in question, "Are you alright," he asks.

You close your eye again and bring your hands to rub at your face, the tips of your cold fingers digging into your eyes, you're starting to get a headache.

Without warning two large hands land on your shoulders, fingers poke and prod at your skin in a way that makes you sigh in relief. When you tilt your head back -eyes still closed- your husband frowns at you, "I wish you'd tell me when your not feeling good."

you almost don't respond the movement of his fingers gently gliding to your hair and scratching at your scalp makes your bottom lip quiver slightly. "I'm okay." Your voice breaks when you speak and Spencer doesn't comment on it, he doesn't want to make you actually cry by pointing it out, instead he moves only one of his also cold hands down the slope of your heated cheeks and rest it there, a gentle remind that he's here for you.

"You look pretty, do you know that," he moves his head closer to your ear to whisper to you, "beautiful."

That finally makes your eyes snap open and he's grinning at you again. Groaning at how his teasing worked to get you looking at him, you tilt your head and lay a kiss on the palm of his hand, "your child is restless," You complain to him, "she gets it from you."

"I'm sorry." His words are sickeningly genuine, they make you smile.

"Its okay baby, I still love you."

He responds to your tease, "You better."

[stevie-petey]

episode one: MADMAX

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.  “I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.  It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything. 

Summary: what does steve fear more ? you or the plague ? currently it's you, some guy with an awful mullet stares you down in the parking lot (gross), nancy invites you to a party from your nightmares, and you become an official unlicensed therapist for will. yay for junior year !

Rating: general, slight cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, descriptions of PTSD (slightly), swearing, and general angst and exhaustion

Words: 5.2k

Before you swing in: hello ! welcome back to the rewrite, hope yall are well :) heres chapter 1 of season 2 !!! so so so excited and ready to dive into this new season. things get a bit darker, feelings get even MORE complicated, and poor reader just really needs to take a fat nap and maybe some reassuring words. shes more angsty this season, so buckle up

-

October 29th, 1984

You originally gave Dustin the phone number to Bookstrordinary in case of any emergencies.

Now, you’re really starting to regret it.

For the fifth time this week, Dustin calls you at work to beg for money. Him and the boys recently started going to an arcade that’s opened up in town and have spent practically every day after school there this year. Sure, you don’t mind loaning your brother a few quarters, but at the rate he’s going he’s gonna drain your next paycheck.

Just as you’re thinking this, the phone rings.

Right on cue.

Alex, your coworker, smirks. “How much do you think he’ll ask for this time?”

“If I’m lucky, only a dollar.”

“Will asked me for three tonight, so I wouldn’t jinx anything.”

You gape at Jonathan, who has started hanging around your job after school just to have something to do. “No fucking way.”

“Way,” he laughs, pointing towards the phone on the counter. “Answer before Dustin sends a drone our way.”

You sigh and pick up the phone, which is on its second round of calling, and put on your best customer service voice. “You’ve reached Bookstrordinary, may I ask who is calling?”

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N.”

“Aw, I’m doing well tonight. Thanks for asking, Dustin.”

“I need five dollars.”

“Ya know, ‘please’ has such a nice ring to it.”

“... if I say please, will you give me the money?”

“No.”

Silence fills the other end. Alex and Jonathan are hunched together, trying to stifle their laughs. You send them a thumbs up, and they give you one back.

“You’re a horrible sister.”

“What!” You scoff at Dustin. “I think you owe me like, at least ten bucks now. Yet you don’t see me complaining.”

A loud groan, then an obnoxious scream. “I promise I’ll clean Mews’ litter box for a week straight if you just give me the money.”

“Tempting, and honestly I’d take you up on that offer, but I already spent my last paycheck on my Halloween costume. You’re outta luck.”

Dustin gasps. “You were gonna say no this whole time? You just wasted like, at least five minutes of my time! I could’ve been digging through the couch for coins by now!”

“Jesus,” you pull the phone away from your face as Dustin continues to shout. Jonathan lets out a loud cackle and Alex just shakes his head. “I can give you some money next week–”

The line cuts off. Dustin has hung up.

What a little shit.

“You remind me why I’m grateful I’m an only child.” Alex says, now walking from behind the counter to begin stacking some books. Technically your shift ended almost thirty minutes ago, but you and Jonathan prefer to hang around for a while. It’s rare to have some time with just the two of you (even if Alex is there as an unfortunate third wheel).

“Glad I can help.” You respond. Once he’s gone, you turn to Jonathan. “And you were right, Dustin indeed wanted more than Will’s measly three bucks.”

He laughs. “Figured as much. The look on your face was genuine disbelief when he asked.”

“Mhm, I’m scared these boys will turn into horrendous teens. The lack of gentlemen in Hawkins these days is astounding.”

“C’mon, I’d say I’m a gentleman. I mean, I’m riding on your bike pegs tonight to keep you safe.” Jonathan says, waving an arm in front of his body as if to present all his gentleman-ness to you.

“Sure, bee.” Although, he has a point. Joyce has the car tonight so she can drive Will to the arcade and Jonathan doesn’t like you biking home in the dark. After what happened last year, none of the Byers are particularly keen on letting their loved ones go off alone at night. So, to ensure your safety, Jonathan has started riding on your bike pegs all the way home.

It’s endearing really, wholly unnecessary, but endearing.

Jonathan flicks your nose. “Who else would be such a gentleman to you? Steve?”

Hearing Steve’s name sends a wave of varying emotions through you. Guilt, shame, remorse, longing. You miss him. You really, really miss him.

“I thought we agreed to stop talking about Steve.” You mumble, now busying yourself with a piece of paper on the counter.

After Will was found last year, you and Steve had gotten really close. He’d spend hours bugging you at work, he’d gotten you such a lovely Christmas gift that still hangs on your wall, and you’d grown close with him in a way you haven’t before with anyone else. He would’ve done anything for you, he cared about you with such genuineness, and you couldn’t handle it.

Summer came and the heat that came with it scared you.

You’d pushed Steve away, severed any connection you had to him. It was easier when you didn’t have to see him every day at school, but ever since junior year started, you’ve been in your own personal hell.

Steve walks past you in the halls without batting an eye. He doesn’t look your way, like the months you spent learning every inch of his wonderfully unique brain and the moles scattered along his face never happened; he doesn’t give you that smile that makes your knees weak. He’s avoided you like the fucking plague, which you can’t blame him for, but it’s only made things more awkward between him, Jonathan, Nancy, and you.

Jonathan sighs. “I’m sorry, bug. I just… he seemed good for you, ya know? I was actually starting to like the guy before you suddenly stopped hanging around him.”

You play with the piece of paper, hoping that if you don’t respond then Jonathan will just drop the subject, but a thought seems to cross his mind.

“Wait a minute. Steve didn’t like, hurt you or anything, right?” You don’t respond again and now he’s starting to get worried. “Y/N, I’m serious. Did he do something to you?”

The irony of the situation is so comical you want to laugh. Here Jonathan is, demanding to know if Steve hurt you and if that’s why you’ve stopped being his friend, when in reality it’d been Jonathan who hurt you. Jonathan, your oldest and dearest friend, is the reason you’re so fucking terrified of letting Steve in. Of falling in love with him.

You’re already in love with Jonathan, you can’t put yourself through any more hurt.

But fuck, you miss Steve. You’d come to rely on him and his obnoxious sense of humor that never failed to make you laugh. The way he so effortlessly filled the room with warmth.

“Relax, bee. He didn’t do anything. I just wanted to focus on Will and the boys more.” You lie through your teeth.

He gives you a funny look. “I know you care about the boys, but you know they’d want you to have some other friends.”

“I have you, that’s all I need.”

It’s all I can afford.

“Bug, I’m worried about you. You’ve all but thrown yourself into school, you work non stop here, and when you finally have some free time you’re spending it researching child psych for Will–”

“Just drop it, Jonathan!” You finally snap at your friend.

He stops, surprised by your outburst. He can see the angry flush in your cheeks now and the slight heavy breathing you do to try and calm yourself down. Jonathan drops his shoulders, defeated. He’s been worried about you ever since junior year started. You’re more withdrawn, you look like you haven’t slept at all, and now you don’t even feel comfortable telling him what’s been bothering you.

All Jonathan knows is that one day you were glowing while telling him a story about Steve and his stupid jokes, then the next day you looked frail and sickly as you told him that Steve was no longer visiting you at work.

Something happened between you two, he’s just not sure what or how to even help.

For once, Jonathan is at a loss.

–

“And then she chased Mike all the way down the street for her money! He got away!” Jonathan finishes his story with a grand flourish, laughing and hitting his steering wheel as if it’s the funniest thing in the world.

You let out a weak laugh, exhausted from the night before. It’s early morning and you’re in the school parking lot, hanging in Jonathan’s car as always, and you feel like utter shit. You stayed up late last night reading this journal you’d found in the school library about acute trauma in children. It had been fascinating and there were some things you thought could apply to Will. Before you knew it, it had been three in the morning and you needed to be up soon for school.

Which leads you to now: slouched in the passenger seat, sunglasses over your eyes to block out the annoying sun, tiredly listening to Jonathan’s recounting of his phone call with Nancy from last night. Apparently they’ve progressed to nightly phone calls now.

Lovely.

Without meaning to, your eyes start to drift shut. The car is the perfect cozy kind of warm and the late October air wraps around you as if to lull you to sleep. Jonathan notices you’ve gone quiet and pokes your cheek.

“If you fell asleep I’ll tell your mom and she’ll put you back on house arrest.”

You slap his hand away. “Don’t do that, then she’ll just ban me from your house.”

“You were up all night researching again, weren’t you.”

“If you have to ask, then that’s probably your answer.”

“Y/N–”

You put a finger up, using your other hand to rub at your temples. A headache is forming and you’re three seconds away from just skipping first period to nap in the car. “We aren’t doing this again. Drop it.”

Jonathan rolls his eyes. “I’m your best friend, it’s my job to worry about you–”

“And it’s my job to tell you to fuck off whenever you’re getting on my nerves–”

Suddenly a loud blue camaro comes speeding into the school parking lot, effectively drowning out whatever you’d been saying to Jonathan. The car revs its engine and almost hits a few students as it jerks its tires and then screeches to a halt, parking right next to you guys.

You and Jonathan look at each other.

“What the fuck?” You look out your window and are greeted with the sight of an attractive blond guy staring at you. His music is blasting so loud you can hear it through Jonathan’s windows.

“Jonathan,” you whisper, getting his attention. “Am I really tired or is there a guy with a god awful mullet staring at me right now?”

“He’s real.”

“Cool.” You continue to stare at the guy, unsure what to do. You’ve never seen him before, there’s no way you’d forget a face like that in Hawkins. He’s attractive, almost unappealingly attractive, and there’s a coldness to his beauty that makes you uncomfortable. He looks dangerous, like he knows how much power his beauty brings him.

The boy winks at you, a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, and then gets out of the car, slamming his door rather harshly. It’s then that you notice the redhead girl, much younger than him, possibly around Dustin’s age, getting out of the car as well. She slams her own door and doesn’t even spare the guy a glance as she drops her skateboard down and rides towards the middle school across the parking lot.

Meanwhile the boy saunters inside, a lazy pace in his step that also holds immense confidence. He’s cocky, cool and collected, and he takes one last look around, as if to survey his new claimed battleground. You notice a few of your classmates gazing at him with interest, which you don’t really understand. He’s hot, but his attitude alone tells you everything you need to know about him.

Once he’s gone, Jonathan finally speaks. “Who was that guy?”

“No clue,” your eyes linger on the doors he’s just walked through. There’s something off about him. “But I don’t think we want to know… C’mon, if we don’t head in now we’ll be late for our first class.”

–

During your lunch period everyone’s buzzing about some upcoming Halloween party. As you’re walking towards your locker with Jonathan, you notice a few pieces of orange paper being passed around. You don’t pay much attention to them, but when Nancy joins you two she eagerly takes a few from the girl passing them out.

Nancy playfully shoves the papers at you and Jonathan. “You guys are totally coming to this.”

“We are?” You ask, eyeing the flyer wearily. You have nothing against parties, but the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of drunk teenagers in horrible costumes is frankly terrifying to you.

“You sure are, Y/N.”

“But Nancy–”

“‘Come and get sheet faced’.” Jonathan reads aloud. “Yeah, Nance. I think we’ll pass.”

Nancy groans. “I can’t let you guys sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable.”

“Actually,” you correct her, annoyed by the assumption, “we have a tradition with the boys. We take them out every year to trick or treat and it’s always been fun. We won’t be ‘alone’.”

“No offense, Y/N, but spending Halloween with a bunch of middle schoolers isn’t much better.”

You make a face and look over at Jonathan for help, but he shrugs. “You gotta admit, it is kinda lame.”

“I can’t believe you’d betray me like this–”

Nancy smiles at this. “See? Plus, I doubt trick or treating with the boys will take all night. You’ll be home by 8:00, and Jonathan will be listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something, while you, my dear Y/N, will be baking a fresh batch of cookies and throwing away all the candy corn you find.”

“Sounds like a nice night.” Jonathan responds, and you nudge your shoulder with his. It does sound like a nice night, one you’re looking forward to.

“I forgive you for your earlier betrayal.”

“Guys!” Nancy stops at her locker now, slight frustration in her voice. “Just… Come on! I mean, who knows? You guys might meet someone and–”

Her words are cut off with a squeal as she’s suddenly lifted in the air and spun around, Steve having snuck up behind her. Nancy now puts all her attention on him, he has his arms wrapped low on her waist and he’s wearing sunglasses inside like some idiot, and your heart hurts. He looks good, too good.

Steve is looking at Nancy so tenderly, and when he removes his sunglasses you see how much his eyes light up when she hits his shoulder and leans in close to him.

“I missed you,” Steve tells her, his voice soft and sensual.

It’s the way he says it that makes you want to run your hands through his hair, be the one in his arms as he kisses your neck and whispers how often he’s thought of you since you’ve been gone. You’ve felt his arms around you before, once. You know how securely he holds on, how his cologne lingers on your clothes long after he’s gone. You miss him, you miss everything.

Steve, as if sensing what you’re thinking, risks a look at you. Your eyes meet his and for a brief second no one else exists anymore. It’s just you and him in the small Hawkins high school hallway, where he’s yours again in a way that’s clouded with “almost” and “not enough”, and you want to tell him how lovely he is and how horrible you feel for hurting him, but then he diverts his gaze and focuses back on Nancy and you’re thrown back into reality.

He isn’t yours. Hell, he isn’t even your friend anymore, and you’re the one to blame.

Once Nancy and Steve start kissing, you share a disgusted look with Jonathan and silently agree to leave.

“Young love, huh?” Jonathan jokes bitterly when you’ve left them behind.

“I hate it.”

And you do.

You’re really starting to hate this whole “love” thing.

–

The only highlight so far this school year has been you and Will growing even closer. When Jonathan told you that Will started seeing the Hawkins Lab people for treatment and to see how he’s been recovering, you pulled Joyce aside later that night to ask if it’d be okay if you spoke with Will yourself. Since everything that happened last year, you’ve only become more interested in psychology, and you’d be lying if you said Will wasn’t an interesting case study.

You told Joyce that you’d been doing your own research, reading journals upon journals, and she made you a deal. You could help Will as long as you also took care of yourself, that you wouldn’t place an even heavier burden upon yourself. Of course you agreed, promising her you wouldn’t, and that’s how your weekly chats with Will began.

Jonathan had been against it at first, telling you that you didn’t have to worry about Will because you already do everything else for the kids. You told him you could handle it, and secretly you liked helping Will because you were able to pour all your anxiety and complex feelings for Steve into research and studying. It was a win-win in your eyes.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Waters had been extremely understanding when you asked for Wednesdays off. After all, you’d been working at Bookstrordinary for almost three years now, so she was quick to make the accommodation.

Now here you are, another Wednesday spent at the Byers’ home. You’re sitting with Will in his bed, the both of you quietly scribbling with his crayons. You’ve learned that he’s more receptive if you draw with him, if you take your time.

“How was Dr. Owens today?”

Will pauses mid-scribble. “Fine.”

“Just ‘fine’? Nothing else?” Your head is down so he doesn’t think you’re studying his reactions, but you keep an eye on him anyways.

“Yeah. I told him about my latest episode.”

“You had another one? Would you like to tell me when?”

Will thinks for a moment, and you tell him that he of course doesn’t have to say anything if he doesn’t want to.

“Last night. I was back in the Upside Down… and there was this… this thing.”

Now you stop drawing. “Like the monster we killed last year?”

“Different,” he shakes his head. “This thing was evil.”

Will’s eyes are darting everywhere around the room, and you can see his growing unease, so you decide to put the topic to rest for now. Clearly the episodes are getting worse, scaring him more, so you shift gears.

“Okay, I believe you. I’m sorry for the episodes, but besides them how have you been feeling? Is school getting any better?” Earlier this month Will had confessed to you about the kids in school calling him “zombie boy” and treating him like a freak. You did your best to comfort him, and once you finished your chat with the boy you’d gone to Joyce to let her know.

Will sighs. “School is… school.”

You reach out and move some hair out of Will’s face. “I’m sorry, little bee. Middle schoolers are idiots, they’ll never understand how much you went through. I mean, I had to face that monster for only about twenty minutes. You had to hide from it for days, so you’re honestly incredibly braver than me.”

This gets a smile out of Will, which you’re relieved by. He’s been quiet lately, more closed off, and you’re worried that with the one year anniversary coming up, his episodes will only get worse.

A knock on the door, and then Jonathan pokes his head in. “Hey, guys. Mind if I join?”

“Actually, I think I should go. Bob’s been begging me for my cookie recipe, so I’ll leave you two alone.” You send a look Will’s way, a you better talk to your brother about this look, and he weakly nods his head.

As you walk past Jonathan out the door, you lean in close to Jonathan and whisper, “he’s struggling at school. Be gentle, kids can be fucking awful.”

He nods and squeezes your hand, silently thanking you, and you close the door behind you. While you want to help Will, make sure he’s adapting well, you also recognize your limits. He’s not your brother, Jonathan is, and you know he’ll be more open with him.

Joyce is in the kitchen with Bob, making some popcorn over the stove. He’s filming her with his ridiculously large camera and you can’t help but smile as you watch them. Joyce looks so happy around the guy, laughing more than she’s laughed in the last five or so years you’ve known her. She deserves this, she deserves a guy like Bob. Sweet, slightly silly, but good.

When Joyce sees you lingering in the doorway, she waves you in. “Hey, honey. Any luck with Will tonight?”

“A bit, he told me some of what’s happening at school. He still seems… off, but at least he was opening up. It’s a good sign.”

Joyce hums, but you can sense that there’s more on her mind. You look around to make sure Bob isn’t near, he’s busy digging through a cabinet to find a clean bowl, so you move closer to the woman and lower your voice. “What did Dr. Owens say this time?”

“Claims we need to just pretend everything is okay, despite the fact that it’s getting worse.”

There’s an edge in Joyce’s voice, so you’re careful with your words. “Well… I think he’s right.”

“You do?” Joyce turns to you, her voice loud with surprise, before she quickly remembers Bob is near and lowers it again. “Why do you think that?”

“I was up late reading a new journal I found about acute trauma in children. It’s been almost a year since Will disappeared, he spent days in complete fear, almost died… I mean, it makes sense that his body is remembering those traumatic effects.”

“So you think we should just leave Will alone, let him suffer through his episodes without any help?” There’s more confusion and fear than anger in Joyce’s voice, and you rest your hand against her arm.

“I know it seems counterintuitive, but the best studies we have all show that we have to let those who suffer from post-traumatic stress adapt at their own pace, through their own ways. They hate feeling pitied, and I have a feeling Will is starting to as well.”

Joyce turns the stove off and shakes her head at you. “You sound like Hop. I thought you hated the guy.”

“I don’t hate him,” you chuckle, now helping the woman peel off the foil and sprinkle some salt onto the popcorn. “He just reminds me too much of my dad, and we all know how that ends.”

“Well if you ask me, I think it’s because you two are so similar.”

You gasp. “How dare you!”

Joyce laughs and the seriousness from the previous conversation dissipates. Bob finds a clean bowl and together you and him pour the fresh popcorn in as Joyce prepares the drinks. They’re having a movie night together, and you want to cry because of how adorable it all is. Joyce deserves this.

“You know you’re welcome to join us tonight, Y/N. It’s Will’s turn to choose the movie.” Joyce tells you, but you politely decline.

“Normally I’d love to, but I should get going. I have some homework and I promised Dustin I’d bake him some Halloween treats.”

“Oh!” Bob turns to you. “Speaking of, you promised you’d give me that recipe of yours!”

You and Joyce share an amused look. “You caught me, I did. I’ll write it down right now and you have to swear that no one else will look at this. Deal?”

Bob nods, ecstatic, and you grab a piece of paper and quickly scribble down all the ingredients he’ll need and how to make the cookies. Joyce watches fondly, and you fill with warmth having pleased her. When you’re done, you hand the paper over to Bob and make him cross his heart, just to be extra sure he won’t reveal all your secrets.

“Scout’s honor!”

“Very good then, soldier.” You salute him, and then pull Joyce into a hug. “I really gotta go now. Can you tell Jonathan I said goodbye?”

“Of course, bike home safe, alright?”

You wink at her. “Scout’s honor.”

Bob lets out a loud cackle and you can’t believe that this guy is real, but Joyce is laughing along with him and you’re pleased she’s found someone as endearing and kind as him.

–

As soon as you get home you throw down your backpack and bunker down at the kitchen table. Your mom isn’t back from work yet and Dustin seems to be off somewhere doing god knows what, so it’s just you and Mews for now.

Mews plops herself on the table next to an essay you’ve been working on and you scratch her head as you work. You get lost in your writing, humming softly to yourself, enjoying this small moment of peace.

You won’t admit this to Jonathan, but he’s right. You’ve been overworking yourself, your body aches and your eyes droop with exhaustion almost every day now. But keeping yourself busy is what’s helping you stay afloat. The more you pile onto yourself, the less time you have to think about Steve and his stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid face.

In the middle of one of your sentences, Dustin flings the front door open and scares you. “Jesus, dude!”

He doesn’t spare you a glance, but when he sees Mews on the table with you he suddenly looks a bit alarmed. “Mews is here?”

“Yeah…? She’s helping me with this english essay.” You respond, confused.

“Huh,” Dustin thinks for a second, but seems to shrug it off. “Anyways, I’m home.”

“I can see that.”

“Are you gonna ask about my day?”

“How was your day, my dear brother.”

Dustin hops onto the table and shimmies his shoulders. “I met a girl.”

“What?” You drop your pencil in shock and Mews scatters, your exclaim having frightened her.

“Don’t act too surprised, geesh.” Your brother rolls his eyes, but then he frowns. “Actually, technically speaking I haven’t met her yet, but–”

“You have a crush?” You’re in shock. In your eyes, Dustin is still a baby, no older than six years old. And yet here is he, thirteen and talking to you about a girl.

“Yes, Y/N. Her name is Max, she has red hair and is new, and she’s totally awesome.”

Red hair? You remember seeing that girl in the parking lot earlier today. “Was she with that weird new guy, the one with a mullet?”

Dustin nods, so you poke him in the stomach and ooh at him. “I saw her this morning, she was prettyyyy.”

He shoves your finger away and blushes, which you find adorable. Dustin’s first ever crush, you can’t believe how old he is now.

“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s also just awesome. I think she’s the one with the new high score on Dig Dug.”

“Dig Dug?”

Your brother scoffs. “The arcade game the party always plays? Honestly, do you not listen when I tell you about my days?”

“Alright, fine. If you can remember what I told you I did yesterday, then I’ll apologize for not listening better.”

Dustin closes his mouth, unable to recall a thing.

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” You flick his hat. “Anyways, since you officially like girls now, I’ve been dying to give you some girl advice.”

“Y/N–” Dustin groans, but you shush him.

“First things first, always be a gentleman. Max does indeed seem cool, but I’m sure she’d appreciate a nice and polite young man like yourself.”

Dustin nods. “Okay, be kind. Got it.”

“Good. Now secondly, we Hendersons are charming people, so just be yourself.”

“Duh,”

“Lastly, if she shows interest, tell her how you feel. Better you’re honest and true about how you feel rather than hide it and sulk.”

Dustin snorts. “Says you.”

You look away from him, slightly hurt. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“C’mon, Y/N. When are you gonna tell Jonathan you love him? I mean, everyone knows you do, it’s about time you confess.” Dustin drones on, unaware of your hurt feelings. “And he’s obviously in love with you, you guys are disgusting to be around–”

“He doesn’t love me back.” You whisper, looking down at your paper. You feel pathetic, confessing this to your little brother.

Dustin freezes, now realizing you’ve gone quiet. He can feel your mood darken and he feels like shit for not noticing it sooner. He’s upset you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I thought he did, I mean the party and I all assumed…”

His words fade off, and you want to crawl into a hole and never come out. It’s embarrassing, you shouldn’t be pitied like this by your brother. “It’s okay, I know what you meant.”

“Y/N–”

You get up from the table and gather your things, shoving them into your backpack. “I’m gonna finish up this essay in my room, then I promise I’ll start baking those marshmallow puffs you like–”

Dustin jumps down from the table and blocks you from leaving the kitchen. “Jonathan is an ass–”

“Language–”

He doesn’t let you interrupt. “You’re cool, he’s stupid, and I’m here for you. Alright? Don’t make me pull a code blue on you.”

You wrap your brother into your arms, something he hadn’t been expecting, and allow yourself a small laugh. “No need for a code blue, I promise. Just, give me like an hour to sulk and then I’ll be as good as new. Okay?”

When you pull away, Dustin eyes you, but understands he won’t win this argument. The two of you handle your emotions the same way: alone, in solitude, away from prying eyes. He knows you just need some time to yourself, but he still feels like a jerk for upsetting you in the first place. “Fine, but if you’re sulking later I’ll flick your nose.”

You flick his nose and then quickly flee to your room, Dustin not far behind you. “Flicked you first!”

“Not fair!”

You slam your bedroom door and giggle as you lock it. Dustin bangs on the door, but you can hear the amusement in his voice. You tell him you’ll be out as soon as you’re done with your essay, and then go and sit down at your desk. Sighing, you dig into your bag and pull out what you need. Without meaning to, you look up and see your Spider-Man poster, your wonderful Christmas gift from Steve, hanging in front of you.

The small joy you’d been feeling vanishes.

The poster stares back at you, you can almost hear it calling you a pathetic coward, and you feel guilt claw at your throat. You close your eyes, remembering the cold from that winter day, and you can almost smell the cologne Steve had been wearing when you’d thrown yourself into his warmth. Sometimes, if you sit still enough, you think you can feel the ghost of his embrace.

You open your eyes.

Steve isn’t here.

Of course he isn’t here.

You exhale, feeling the familiar ache and exhaustion within you; junior year is looking quite grim.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

⌑  taglist: @siriuslysmoking @sheisjoeschateau @myeclispedsun @innercreationflower @juhdoche @frostandflamesfanfic @goosy-goose @quinnsadilla @munsons-queen @stefansring @rice-elephant @bex22109 @bitchkeery

[marlynnofmany]

Handy Tools

For some people, an afternoon spent blasting across a desert on a hoverbike with the passenger behind them wrapping tentacles around their waist would be a charming date. For me, it was a work day, and our delivery was about to be late.

I yelled over the wind, “Am I going too fast for you?”

Mur’s voice was muffled against my shirt. “I’m just glad I don’t have to steer at these speeds. Keep going.”

I went faster. Now that I’d been officially trained on the hoverbike, I was going to enjoy every opportunity to use it. Especially since it turned out that most of my coworkers didn’t actually like seeing the scenery flash past at breakneck speeds, with the wind in their hair (or lack thereof).

Their loss. I caught some air going over a low sand dune, and allowed myself a whoop of joy. Mur didn’t hold on any tighter, but that was because he had all his other tentacles suctioned onto the bike. Nobody stays in their seat like a Strongarm who’s properly motivated. He reminded me of cats I’d known who spent trips to the vet with their claws sunk into whichever soft surface was in reach. All that was missing was the yowling.

A gust of wind buffeted us sideways, but the bike’s auto-balance function kept it upright. With a thought for how much I would have liked that kind of technology in my childhood bicycle, I steered us back on track toward the distant buildings on the edge of the desert. The plan had been for our client to come meet us at the spaceport, but something had come up on their end, and they still needed the package in a hurry. Luckily for all involved, it fit in the storage compartment of our courier ship’s speedy little hovercycle. And I was happy to deliver it at high speed to a building that the ship couldn’t land near.

Eventually we’d be weaving through city streets and I’ve have to slow down. All the more reason to make up time with the high speeds now.

But of course it couldn’t be that easy. As I crested another rise, a herd of small things on the ground swarmed toward us out of nowhere.

I swerved hard, but no luck; there were far too many to avoid. With the wind behind them, they flowed under the hoverbike and onto its lower parts, where a bunch of the round little whatevers stuck fast.

The bike coasted to a stop, despite my efforts to urge it faster. The rest of the things ghosted merrily away, looking more like inanimate objects blown by the wind than like living creatures. Dozens of them were stuck to the bike.

Mur swore loudly in his own language, a series of rippling pops that sounded like someone going to town on a bunch of birthday balloons. Which seemed pretty appropriate, actually.

“What are these?” I asked, turning off the engine. They looked like little sand-beige balloons with leaves at the bottom. Were they plants?

They were.

“A muddy problem is what they are,” Mur said, loosening his tentacles and opening the storage compartment. “Seed pods famous around here for gumming up electronics by getting stuck where they shouldn’t. You can’t just pull ‘em off; you have to pop them.”

I got to my feet, careful to keep my legs away from the things. “Are they dangerous to touch?”

Mur climbed halfway into the storage compartment, digging with his tentacles around the package. “No. Just hard to puncture. Where is the toolkit?”

I had a sudden memory of our ship’s mechanic saying something about borrowing it while I was talking to the captain about the delivery. Uh oh. “I think we left before Mimi put it back.”

With an angry tentacle slap against the bike, Mur dug faster. “There’s got to be something pointy in here. Maybe in the medkit?”

While he pulled that out and sifted through the bandages, I got a closer look at the seed pods. They reminded me of pufferfish: a little spiky, and rubbery when I poked one. Oddly enough, it didn’t stick to my finger, just the bike. Seeds rattled inside.

Further pop-swearing told me there wasn’t anything particularly sharp in the tiny medkit. Mur shut it with a snap and looked around at the desert. “See any sticks?”

I did not. “There’s probably something at the town, but that’s a bit of a walk. Are you sure we can’t just rip them open? Are they toxic to bite?”

“Definitely don’t bite them,” Mur said. “I’ve heard stories of what those seeds can do to a digestive system.”

“By hand, though?” I tried to pinch one, but it was like trying to tear open an over-inflated kickball. Thin material, just without enough give to dig my fingers in. A pushpin would have done it. I kept trying anyway. “I see what you mean.”

Mur started tugging at various parts of the hoverbike. “And of course we can’t take off a sharp metal bit without tools either. And neither of us have claws. What around here is pointy?”

“Well, I almost have claws,” I said, looking at my fingernails. “Maybe I could bite one into a point. Or actually—” The nail on my middle finger was the longest. I dug a thumbnail into the corner and ripped the end off, then handed the tiny crescent to Mur. “Is this sharp enough?”

“What’s this?” He took it in his tentacle, surprised.

“Fingernail,” I said, waggling my fingers. “Mine are soft enough to tear off pretty easily. It’ll grow back.”

Mur blinked in surprise but didn’t comment. He just grasped it firmly with his most dexterous tentacle, and popped a seedpod with it.

“Hooray!” I said as seeds rained down and the pod deflated. To my surprise, it promptly detached from the bike as well.

“We might just be on time after all.” Mur started popping with a vengeance, swarming over the bike to get everything within reach.

I sacrificed another fingernail — ring finger this time — and joined in. Between my long arms and his maneuverability, we soon had all of the troublesome things collapsing onto the sandy ground.

I wondered briefly about the biology at work; maybe the outer surface of the pods would decompose into nutrients for the seeds. But then Mur was climbing back onto the seat, and we had other things to worry about.

“I’m going to make sure that toolkit goes back where it belongs the moment we get back,” Mur said. He opened the storage compartment and dropped the fingernail inside. “Keeping these, though. Gimme the other one.”

I handed it over with a smile and got back into place while he shut the compartment. The bike started as if there had never been anything wrong. I was a bit curious about that too, but figured it was something for Mimi to figure out when he gave the bike a checkup later.

After we delivered our package, that is. I kicked it into high gear, and with Mur holding on for dear life, I blasted off across the desert once again. The wind in my hair felt great.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[plutonianeris]

𝖒𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖘𝖆 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖏𝖚𝖈𝖙 𝖆𝖘𝖈

This is how medusa conjuct ascendant has manifested for me. I am not a professional astrologer, just sharing my personal experiences I believe correlate with this placement.

🐍 In regards to appearances, I have always had very long, dark wavy hair. Growing up, a lot of times my hair was touched without my consent and I remember distinctly someone pulling my hair hard as fuck in school and it was a group of girls (didnt know which one it was). I also remember boys trying to “flirt” with me by tugging my hair.

🐍As I got older and started taking care of my hair even more, that is one the first things I always get compliments on by strangers, acquaintances or coworkers.

🐍In some other posts I see people mention a “piercing gaze.” As a kid, when I was angry I use to look at people like I wanted to shoot lasers out of my eyes. My mother would hate when I would look at her like that, she told me I looked like a monster when I gave her the death stare during arguments.

🐍On the flip side of that however, I do also get compliments on my eyes. My eyes are big and very dark as well just like my hair. One time in high school, one of my teachers told me I had “bedroom eyes” in front of the whole class. I realized it was kinda inappropriate when I googled what that was after. One of my friends said I have “siren eyes.”

🐍I have never felt fully comfortable around the opposite sex. I was always very very wary of men. In high school was when it was at its peak. The guys were pretty gross. One time a guy in my grade (who I barely knew) pulled me into a hug and literally bit my fucking shoulder. I had shoved him away and looked towards my teacher but he didnt do anything, just looked away.

🐍I can definitely see men in my life or in my surroundings who were not being inappropriate to me being indifferent to watching bad/ uncomfortable things happen to me. Either they didn’t care or didn’t find me someone worthy as defending or both.

🐍When I did defend myself I was villanized quickly over it. In high school, a guy behind me slapped my butt and when I turned around and slapped him in the face I got in trouble/ detention for it.

🐍I was often talked about in a very sexual manner (despite never dating or being “promiscuous” for a lack of better word). Comments were made about my body and sexuality.

🐍Then when I went to college I felt like I putting myself out there more but realized I wasn’t fully being vulnerable. I liked to flirt with guys but I wanted them to have to practically BEG for my attention. And then when they gave it to me I would shut them down. I use to do that a lot. One time a guy was so angry at me he called me a snake. I’m an adult now, and have grown and don’t do any kind of thing like that anymore. But at the time, I believe I was seeking a kind of power/control over other people because I personally felt powerless or unworthy.

🐍I am also not personally fond of snakes as pets or wanting to hold them. But I use to always want a medusa tattoo in college and had a bracelet with Medusa and another with Artemis on it that I wore everyday (and it was all before I even knew about astrology or the fact that I have this placement).

🐍I have generally had good relationships with women. But I do think for sure growing up I tried to make the women around me (whether family, teachers or friends) like me as much as possible. It felt devastating being rejected by them.

🐍When the women in my life would hurt me, whether by accident or on purpose I would make excuses for them until it would blow up in my face. (It reminds me of how Medusa use to worship Athena and was shocked and destroyed at the betrayal).

🐍There have been times where other women would look at me as if I was in competition with them (when in reality I didn’t give a fuck). But they would make petty comparisons. One time I had a “friend” who asked in front of a group of guys, “who is prettier? me or her?”

🐍I use to HATE when people stared at me, mostly when it was men. I would look back at people and be like what the fuck are you looking at? or say something along those lines. It made me so furious when men would catcall me too or eye me up and down.

🐍I would definitely say that growing up I had a bad temper. I was very resentful and impulsive and I was angry with the things that had happened to me and my body. Sometimes I just wanted to disappear. I was not easily given the benefit of the doubt. I was quick to get blamed. Not easily listened to.

🐍Overall, I can see having this placement as being very heavy as kid or a teen. I was so young and I was just worried about being a kid and getting to know myself but I got sexualized so much. I think I did grow up too fast in certain aspects. I do not miss my childhood nor do I remember it with nostalgia.

🐍I love being an adult. I love making my own choices. I love not having to ask for permission. I love feeling confident in my femininity(I feel like this year is when I just started to fully explore it out of love). It was a painful journey but more often than not I feel brave, and safe and comfortable in my body now more than ever. I don’t self sabotage anymore or go out of my way to shut people out. But it took a very long time.

[slut4thebroken]

Promise

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Neil Lewis x reader

Summary | He’s a perv and lowkey a bad friend lol

Warnings | Smut, technically non con, masturbating, objectification, degradation, misogyny?, perv neil (again).

Words | 1.5 k

Notes | Ty to whoever sent the ask for this 🙌 Also this is barely proofread btw

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Give me a sec, I need to finish getting dressed.” You said, with only your head in the frame. Your hair was still wet so you must have just gotten out of the shower. He smiled and watched your head disappear, listening to the sound of clothes rustling until you were finally sitting down in front of your computer. “Hi.” You said through a breath of exertion from rushing to get dressed. 

“Hi.” He chuckled, but it trailed off when he noticed your top. You were wearing a very tight, very low cut tank top and no bra— He knew because he could just barely see your nipples poking through the fabric. 

“How was your day?” You asked and he had to force his gaze to move back to your face, finding a small smile on your lips. 

“Same as always. Went to work, came home. Nothing new.” He shrugged. “What about you? You were telling me about something earlier over text,”

“Right..” You groaned, already getting annoyed again at just the reminder of it. “You know that one coworker I hate?” 

“Yeah.” He chuckled quietly. 

“Well, she was there today.” You said bitterly, then started droning on about what happened. Honestly, he couldn’t listen to a word you were saying. He was watching your tits through the screen as his cock started fattening up in his pants— In his defense though… he hasn’t touched himself in like.. two days. So it’s only natural he’d get worked up so easily— especially because it’s you. He palmed his bulge beneath the camera, being careful not to move his arm too much. 

He waited as long as he could… Honestly, he did. 

“Hang on, I gotta turn my camera off really quick. I’m still listening though.”

“Okay.” You said, thinking nothing of it. He turned the camera off and you continued talking, gesturing with your hands, making your tits move in a way that had his mouth watering. Unable to wait any longer, he pushed his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock and immediately started stroking it. His eyes fluttered shut and he bit his lip to stifle a moan as his head fell back. 

He was barely listening to your words, just wanting to hear your sweet voice and imagine you were saying something else instead… something far dirtier. Wanting to watch you again, he leaned his head back up and opened his eyes to study your face. Your lips looked so pink and pouty, and so fucking kissable— it drove him crazy. 

“Neil..” You called out, snapping him out of his trance. 

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat when he heard how raspy it already was. 

“I asked if you were listening.” You giggled— fucking giggled. 

“Sorry… I promise I am now.” It was so hard to talk with his cock in his hand, throbbing with need. 

“Why can’t you turn your camera on?” You suddenly asked, making him freeze. He never thought you’d actually confront him about it…

“I- Uh… I spilled soda all over myself and I’m still trying to clean it up, while being mostly nude… I can turn it back on if you want.” He said suggestively. 

“Okay okay, sorry.” You laughed, then continued talking. “Oh- I wanted to show you what I got the other day. It reminded me of you.” You smiled and then stood up, making his jaw drop. The tank top didn’t even reach your belly button and the shorts you were wearing rested low on your hips. 

When you turned around, he choked on a moan and squeezed the base of his cock, trying not to come right then and there. No wonder the shorts were so low… If you pulled them up any higher, they’d expose more than just the very bottom of your ass. You must not have heard him because you walked a few more steps to your bookcase, then started looking for the mystery object. His hand had a mind of its own and started stroking again as he watched your hips sway while you looked through different drawers and shelves. 

You bent down to look through the bottom half, sticking your ass out as if you were teasing him on purpose. He cursed under his breath when he could just barely see the outline of your pussy in the skin tight shorts. When you leaned back up, the fabric was even higher up on your ass now and when you turned around to walk back to the computer, he saw that your tank top shifted as well, exposing more of your cleavage and the swell of your breasts. They jiggled as you sat back down in the chair.  

“Are you sure you’re listening?” He suddenly heard through the trance he was in.  

“Mhm.. just keep talking. Promise I’m listening.” He tried not to say the words through a moan. 

“Okay…” You said skeptically, but continued anyway. He was enjoying the view of your tits, but he desperately wanted to see your ass again, so he bit his lip and tried to think of a way to get you out of the chair again. 

He waited until you were done talking before asking, “Is that thing up there new?” Your brows furrowed and you turned around to see what he was talking about. 

“The figurine thing? I guess yeah. You haven’t been over in a while.” 

“Can I see it?” You smiled and agreed and he watched you stand up and turn around, only letting you take two steps before stopping you. “Wait,” You froze and turned back around, leaning down into the frame so he could see your face. 

“What?” The way you were bent over exposed even more of your tits and he stifled a groan at the sight. 

“Nevermind, sorry.” He chuckled, playing it off. You seemed suspicious but eventually leaned back up and turned around to continue walking. You got up on your toes and reached up, making your tank top raise even more, now showing your entire lower back. He imagined seeing that when he had you bent over instead, squirming and moaning under him until he came on the cute little dimples you have. 

“I used a stool to get it up here.” You laughed, dropping your heels, making your ass bounce, and twisting around to face the computer. 

“It looks like you’re almost there.” 

“Really?” You turned back around and looked up, then started reaching again, making little groans of effort that had his cock throbbing. 

“Try jumping.” 

“Neil, do you have to see it?” You huffed, already getting tired of this. “Can’t you just wait until the next time you come over?” 

“But I want to see it now.” He made sure to make his pout show in his tone since you couldn’t see his face. You let out a loud, exaggerated groan in response, but kept trying. The first time you jumped, your fingers almost brushed it. He watched in awe and cursed under his breath at the way your ass moved when you landed. Is that how it would move when he plowed into you from behind? 

You jumped again, just barely touching it. When you landed, you pulled your top down, embarrassed by how much of your midriff was showing. Neil muted his computer for a moment, needing to let out the sounds while you couldn’t see that he turned his sound off. 

The tip of his cock was completely red now, pulsing and twitching in his hand as he neared his orgasm. He moaned loudly when you jumped again and his hips bucked up into his hand. 

“Fuuuck..” He groaned, tilting his head back, but not too far so that he could still see the screen. When you jumped again, you finally grabbed it and he turned the audio back on as you walked over. Just before sitting, you pulled your tank top down again when you noticed how much of your stomach was showing. You didn’t seem to mind that the added coverage on your stomach was at the expense of the coverage on your tits. Or you just didn’t know. 

You started talking about the figurine and where you got it, and he let out little uh huh’s or grunts in response. He genuinely had no idea what you were saying, but there wasn’t even a small part of him that cared. You put it down and suddenly stretched your arms up, leaning back in the chair to stretch your back with a low moan. 

He felt his balls tighten up instantly and he got to his feet, knowing exactly what he wanted to do. He rapidly fisted his cock as you leaned back up, your top even lower now. With a stifled groan, his orgasm finally crashed over him. Rope after rope of come painted the computer screen, right on your tits. 

“Neil?” You asked, but he couldn’t talk, not when his body was literally shaking from the intensity of the pleasure. “Are you okay?” He started panting quietly as he stroked the last bead of come out, then released his cock. 

“Yeah.” He said through a breath, flopping back down onto the chair. His cock was still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm, especially when he saw your come covered tits though the screen. 

“Are you sure?” You were so cute when you got all concerned like this. So cute, but so dumb. 

“Promise.” 

Taglist (join here)

@pedrisgatorade @lunyyx @faebirdie @idkdudsworld @nashja @rentaldarling @theoraekenslover @kaorisakamotofan @scorpiussage @naevisct @jimmywoosimp @cillianscrybaby @vivvive @ceruleanrainblues @mrkdvidal1989 @brooklynscherry-z @ohmysatansstuff @aviamulier @d1lf-loverthinqs @butlersluvbot @miyababby @n1ghtw1ngslver @mandowhatnow @baekhyunstruly @nashja @xxorazz @halleysc6met @crunchsworld @babaohhhriley @deceitfuldevout @gentyleman @lorelais-world @shroombloom-rry @pinguwrites @thatonesinglefriend @bernelflo @milktert @nyxxie.pooh @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away @milkytomura @bigbossbabysworld @sheisthedxrkness @hanawrites404 @ll4n4 @olivialveshbc @feyresqueen @charlottegemyngende @ffionspreach @drcranessweetestdoe @madeinuk @hanawrites404

[sokkigarden]

dancing with our hands tied (part iii)

jamie tartt x female reader // nsfw 18+ // enemies to lovers // fwb

masterlist // read on ao3

summary: you give jamie head... and a headache.

word count: 3.6k

JAMIE POV LETS GO !! this took forever but IT'S HERE. its full of steam and angst i hope yall like it >:)

༻✧✧✧༺

“Well, I must be dreaming.”

You rolled your eyes as Jamie watched you walk through his front door. These words were nothing new. After leaving his house that first night, adamantly refusing to return, you showed up just a few days later. And Jamie couldn’t complain, though he wasn’t above teasing you a little bit. Your words contradicted your actions more and more as the weeks passed.

Somehow this had become something of a routine. He would cross paths with you at work, say something to get your blood boiling, and wait for you to show up at his front door later that night. Or sometimes, you wouldn’t even make it into the evening, the tension between you breaking midday. Jamie didn’t have to wonder if anyone had ever shagged in the boot room anymore, because he had. His back pressed against the uncomfortable shelves, holding you against him like his anchor, sucking a mark into your neck; you had come undone on his dick only a few moments before Will walked in. You had fumbled an excuse for being in the room with Jamie but Will had seemed highly suspicious as you fled.

That wasn’t the only place either. Jamie had only snickered a little bit after the time you realized you would have to replace the table in the treatment room after you both got a bit too caught up and broke it.

It was just sex. You reminded him constantly that this was just two coworkers that mildly hated each other having sex. Mutual goals and all that. Jamie went along with it. It wasn’t his first time having a no-strings relationship, but if you needed to remind yourself that it was casual, he wasn’t going to stop you. 

So it was a bit strange, to see you show up in the middle of the afternoon on a half day off with a question. Unexpected but not unwelcome.

“Can I give you a blowjob?” you asked. “I want to make sure I’m okay at it before my date.”

Jamie nearly stopped breathing at your question, shutting the door behind you, and clicking the lock into place. 

“I must really be dreaming.”

You grabbed his hand and walked toward his TV room, promptly shoving him onto the couch. He started to unzip his jeans, but you swatted his hand away, taking over the task yourself. Jamie could barely process what was happening. One moment you were at his doorstep and the next you’re removing his pants like a woman starved.

“If you’re in such a hurry, you coulda asked me at the dog track. We just saw each other,” he said as he lifted his hips to help remove his pants. 

Jamie wasn’t used to talking a lot during flings and hookups. Sure, there was some flirting, but it seemed like a big part of your relationship was the banter that fueled the sex. He found himself thinking it made the sex even better. He hadn’t had this much fun with anyone in a while.

Once his jeans were out of the way, you slowly ran your hands back and forth across his thighs, the heat of your fingertips leaving sparks in their wake. The gentle motion went straight to his dick. 

“Not after we broke the massage table.” You crouched down between his legs, but he could still see the flush of embarrassment upon your cheeks. “I can’t believe I had to ask Higgins to order another one. I feel like he knew.”

Jamie tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, swallowing his laugh at your predicament. “He couldn’t have.”

You rolled your eyes, clearly not believing him. 

“Still, I’m paranoid. No more fucking at work.”

His face morphed into an exaggerated pout, but inside, he was focused on the idea of continuing whatever this was, even if they couldn’t fool around at work. He was nowhere near bored yet, and in the back of his mind, he wished to continue this indefinitely. He’d take whatever you would give him for as long as you did.

Jamie settled into the couch cushions, and watched intently as you bunched your hair into a ponytail. The image was mouth watering but suddenly, something occurred to him. 

“Wait, did you say you have a date?” he asked.

“Yeah, Zach finally asked me out.”

Any semblance of a boner was gone as the sentence washed over him like ice water. He didn’t like the pang of alarm that settled in his chest.

“Finally?”

You nodded. ���I’ve been dropping hints for like, weeks. He finally asked me to get drinks with him since we had the evening off.”

“Even though you’ve been fuckin’ me?”

Jamie didn’t mean to start interrogating you, but he had a million questions running through his head. He was taken aback, with no time to even process why he was so taken back. 

You paused for a moment from palming him through his briefs and looked up at him. 

“Yeah, but we’re just having some fun. This isn’t that serious… right?” you asked. 

Suddenly it all clicked into place for Jamie. He was never the one to label this as casual. That was you. Only now he was starting to realize maybe he did want it to be serious. You guys had fun in bed, and he found himself looking forward to the parts in his day where you showed up, even outside of the sex. Even if all that occurred was some playful banter and teasing comments. 

With a shock of clarity, Jamie realized you were on a different wavelength than he was, and he hadn’t even known it himself. He wanted more than hidden conversations and meaningless sex. He wanted more than just a quick fuck after work with an even quicker goodbye. He wanted you to stay the night and be there in the morning. He wanted to quit sneaking around and he wanted the Richmond facility to know you weren’t on the market.

Especially Zach.

This newfound discovery was lost to him as you slid your hand into his underwear and wrapped your fingers around him. Despite the many times you had fucked, you had yet to give him head. He found himself unable to think about anything else as you stroked him and started pulling down his briefs.

You seemed a bit hesitant as you gave his dick an experimental lick. Every little touch was sending electricity through his veins. He squirmed at the sensation, and his reaction seemed to bolster your confidence.

When you finally took him in your mouth, he whined, his hands digging into the couch cushions. Every inch of his skin felt like he was on fire. His mind was a mess of physical sensations and newly discovered emotions. 

As you sucked his dick deeper into your throat, his hips involuntarily thrust upwards.

“Feels good,” he mumbled, “Good girl.”

He felt the vibration of the moan in your throat at his words, which just made him want to say even more. You had drool running down the side of your face, but you didn't let up. 

Despite the ponytail you had put your hair into earlier, a few strands were hanging down around your face. As you looked up at him through your eyelashes, Jamie nearly came at the sight. He knew the image would be burned into his mind forever. 

He tangled his fingers into your hair, tugging a bit to bring you closer to him. You took as much of him as you could into your mouth and hollowed out your cheeks, using your hand to stroke the base of his dick. 

“Fuck,” he panted, “Fuckin’ hell.”

Every sensation was building, and despite not wanting this to end, he came in your mouth all too soon.

When he did, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he let out a groan with your name on his lips. You kept sucking as he came down from his high, and Jamie felt like his soul was about to leave his body from the overstimulation. 

His thighs were still twitching slightly as you pulled away. You lingered though, kissing the inside of his thighs as you ran your hands across his legs. The contact was almost too much for him.

He felt his heart skip a beat as you two made eye contact. You squeezed his hips gently, your eyes looking for approval. His mouth hung open as he looked at you. 

“So um,” you bit your lip shyly, like you hadn’t just sucked him into oblivion. “Was that good?”

Good was a severe understatement, but Jamie was finding words hard to come by, so he just nodded, hoping his lack of words was proof enough. You let out a nervous laugh, fixing your hair and wiping the spit from your mouth with the back of your hand. Jamie wondered if he had ever seen anything so erotic in his life. His mind was blank aside from thoughts of you.

You stood up, breaking his trance, and reminding him of why you were here in the first place. To make sure you were good at giving head so you could go off with some other guy.

Alarm bells went off in his head. He didn’t want to lose you to someone else. He wanted you to stay, just like he had wanted the very first night, so you could wake up tangled in sheets next to him. So he could make you breakfast and coffee and stay in bed with you all day. 

The picture was so clear in his mind. He wanted nothing more than that image to be true.

Before you could retreat farther away from him, he reached for your hand.

“Wait wait, let me return the favor,” he said, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. He’d never so badly wanted to beg on his knees for something. “I’ll go down on you, too. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“I don’t need any help with that,” you said with a chuckle.

Ignoring your brush off, he pulled you up onto the couch and into his lap. He gently brushed your hair off your shoulder, watching the way you shivered at his light touch. He planted a trail of feathery kisses to the crook between your shoulder and collarbone, before moving on to your neck. 

He let his hand roam under the hem of your shirt, drifting his fingertips across your lower back. You let out a sigh as he settled you onto his thigh, feeling a wet patch in your panties as you moved against him. 

“I… I really have to go,” you mumbled, but your breathing was off-kilter and Jamie knew his seduction tactics were solid. “I need time to get ready before my date. I don’t wanna be late.”

The word ‘date’ was sending Jamie into a turmoil. He squeezed your ass as you rubbed yourself along his thigh. Your eyes were closed as you lost yourself in the movement.

“Where’s he taking you?” he whispered along the shell of your ear. 

You hummed with pleasure, gripping his shoulders. You were putty in his hands. 

“We’re meeting for drinks. At Bones and Honey,” you replied. “I’ve never been before— I’m excited.”

Jealousy burned through Jamie. He should be the one taking you there. 

He pulled away ever so slightly. He couldn’t help himself from asking the next question.

“Are you planning to do this? With him?”

He immediately hated himself for asking when you pulled back to look at him with narrowed eyes.

“That’s kinda a personal question,” you said.

He gave you a flat look. 

“You just sucked my dick.”

You let out a shaky sigh of agreement, “Okay, yeah, maybe. I haven’t done this in a while. Maybe.”

As Jamie processed this new development, he realized you were likely feeling insecure. He felt a guilt-ridden gratification that you came to him seeking comfort and a familiar face. He wanted to be there for you.

His chest ached at the fact that this might all be over soon. Your words turned over and over in his head, the various times you told him this wasn’t anything serious. 

Jamie hadn’t felt this defeated in a while. He ran his hands along the length of your torso. If this was the last time, he would’ve taken things slower, memorizes the lines and shapes of your body. He pressed on final kiss to your jaw before finally retreating.

“Well, at least let me walk you out,” he said. 

You gave him a funny look, and Jamie wanted to hide in a dark room and never come out. Was a nice gesture like that so unlike him? 

You grabbed his jeans from where they had been discarded on the floor and handed them to him. Your hands brushed, and you turned around quickly, looking away as he got dressed. 

Jamie walked you to the door, and then out to your car, and he wondered if he was being too clingy. You thanked him as you unlocked your car. But before you got in, you hesitated. 

“And um,” you bit your lip, “You’re sure I was alright? You know, at sucking dick?”

Jamie breathed a laugh, wondering how you didn’t understand that you had just made him see through space and time. And that had nothing to do with the feelings bubbling up inside him. You were that good at head.

“I saw God, love. It was way better than good, it was heavenly,” he said, sending you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about it. Ten out of ten, would nut again.”

You let out a laugh at his words, and your smile left him awestruck.

“Heavenly, huh?” you shook your head at his silliness. “Thanks, Jamie.”

“I should be thanking you.” 

You laughed again as you got into your car and started the engine. Jamie couldn’t do anything but watch as you left him behind.

༻✧✧✧༺

It was only after you left that his brain kicked into overdrive and started overthinking everything. Any time that happened, Jamie always ended up doing something stupid. 

This time, he’d brought Sam and Dani along.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Jamie to head out for a night at Bones and Honey. It was a trendy place, and many of the Richmond players frequented the establishment. 

But it wasn’t everyday that Jamie went to Bones and Honey with the sole purpose of seeing you. 

He knew it was wrong. He knew he was being stupid and probably creepy. But before he knew it, he was texting his mates and riding the elevator up to the bar. He ordered himself a beer and tried to focus on the conversation Sam and Dani were having, adding some nods and noises of agreement as his eyes scanned the area. 

“Hey,” Sam said. “Isn’t that y/n and Zach from the physio team?”

Jamie spun around to see you and Zach at the other end of the bar. His heart stopped as he saw you in a cute dress with your hair done up. You were laughing at something Zach said as you sipped your drink, and suddenly Jamie felt like an asshole for showing up like this. He was an asshole, plain and simple. Maybe he could get away without you realizing he was here.

“No way, crazy running into you guys!” 

Jamie was brought back to the real world upon hearing Zach’s words, who was now walking up to the three football players with you trailing behind him. 

You did not look happy to see them. 

Jamie. You did not look happy to see Jamie. 

“Hi Sam, hi Dani,” you greeted with a forced smile on your face. “Jamie.”

Your smile was bright but your eyes held a hidden fury as you looked at him. No one seemed to notice except him, or maybe they did notice and just wrote it off as part of the weird feud between the two of you.

If only they knew.

Jamie could barely process what was being said around him. He couldn’t stop staring at you, despite knowing how pissed you were. 

“Maybe we should all sit together, get some food!” Sam exclaimed, but was quickly shut down by your forceful, “No!”

You softened the word with a smile, but to Jamie it looked a bit like a grimace. You seemed uncomfortable and Jamie felt guilt eat away at his conscience. Who cares if you sucked him off just a few hours ago? It wasn’t any business who you wanted to date or not. 

But that didn’t stop the burn of jealousy that settled into his stomach.

Zach explained that the two of you were getting drinks since work was only a half day today, and Jamie couldn’t help but notice that he seemed to make the event seem a lot more casual than you did. Jamie’s mind was torn— half hoping this wasn’t an actual date for his sake, but hoping it was for yours. You looked at Zach with a hopeful gleam, sipping your drink as he talked.

“You look so beautiful tonight, y/n,” Dani said, and Jamie whirled around, feeling betrayed that one of his closest friends would turn on the charm for the girl he liked. 

But that’s just it. No one else knew about your secret rendezvous and hookups. As far as everyone else was concerned, you were fair game. 

And Jamie hated it.

Why hadn’t he pressed to go on a date sooner? Beg you to stay the night?

In the back of his mind, his insecurities vibrated. He didn’t think he was good enough for someone like you, forever stuck in the friend zone. If you even considered him a friend. He was willing to take any part of you that you would offer.

He watched you blush at the comment, thanking Dani before making eye contact with Jamie. Behind the annoyance, your eyes still sparkled with a bit of nervousness. All he wanted to do was tuck the flyaway strand of hair behind your ear and kiss the daylights out of you. 

Take you on a real date with dinner and music and he’d show up with flowers for God’s sake— he’d do everything right. Give you a proper ‘Tartt’ jersey, wave to you on the sidelines during a match, kiss you every time he scored.

But it was all a fantasy. And all he did was stand still, ruining your date with Zach at Bones and Honey.

Zach and Dani moved on to discuss the menu selections and Sam gave Jamie a massive side eye before pulling out his phone and turning away from you and him.

You didn’t hesitate to take the opportunity to rip into Jamie.

“Do you want to explain what you’re doing here?” 

Normally cool under pressure, Jamie found himself stuttering out an answer. “I ain’t here for you! Sam and Dani wanted to go out— how was I supposed to know they wanted to come here?”

“You could’ve suggested somewhere else?”

Your eyes didn’t hold the fury from before, now it was a mild annoyance. Jamie relented with a sigh.

“I’ll keep ‘em out of your hair,” he said. “Sorry to ruin your night.”

Your expression softened at his words, and you surrendered as well, offering a slight smile. “Thank you. I’ll see you at work, yeah?”

He nodded before forcing himself to step away, calling Dani and Sam to follow him to the other side of the bar. He found a table and offered to buy some food for their group, which clearly distracted Dani, who went on about the menu choices, the bar itself, and more.

Jamie zoned most of it out, staring at his hands as they traced the sweat on his drink glass.

“The world is such a wonderful place,” Dani said. “What a beautiful coincidence to run into our Richmond members on a night out!”

Sam jostled his shoulder light heartedly. “Come on, Dani, doesn’t it seem like too much of a coincidence?”

He looked directly at Jamie as he said that, raising his eyebrows with an unspoken question. 

Jamie fumbled for an answer, scared to give too much away but also desperate to have someone to talk to about this. He hadn’t mentioned sleeping with you to anyone, not even Roy or Keeley. Sometimes he felt like the whole thing was a dream and if he told anyone about it, he would wake up. 

His lack of words was enough for Sam though, who nodded in an understanding way. Jamie tried to focus on the food and drinks and pay attention to what Dani and Sam said, but his eyes had a mind of their own, looking over at the bar in the hopes to get a few stolen glances of you.

Finally the crowded bar room cleared a bit and he had a view. And he suddenly wished he’d never looked at all. 

You were giggling over something Zach had said, touching his arm playfully while taking a sip of your drink. Jamie’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

He didn’t want to do this anymore. He didn’t want to watch you be cute on a date with another guy. He didn’t want to wonder why you didn’t take him seriously. He didn’t want to sit here with Dani and Sam as they caught on and teased him about his stupid crush. 

“Forget it, I’m going home.”

He was silent as he placed a few bills on the table to cover the food and drinks and got up. 

Jamie didn’t look at you again as he walked out. 

[hearts-hunger]

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Cabin Fever Masterlist | Join my taglist here!

Summary: You have a surprise for Jake.

Pairings: Jake x Wife!Reader, Josh x Baby, Sam x Danny | Genre: domestic fluff, slight angst | Word Count: 3.7k | Warnings: pregnancy, morning sickness

A/N: I have to throw in a little angst, you know me. But here you go! Jake and Sparrow are having a baby! ♡

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, you listened to the steady roll of thunder and patter of rain and tried to will yourself into feeling better. So far, it wasn't working very well; rocky and nauseous, there was little you could do but hold your head in your hands and be as still as possible. One wrong move and you'd be down for the count, just like you had been yesterday morning and the morning before that.

You know what that means, a little voice said in your head. You grimaced.

“It’s just the flu,” you said to yourself. “Some weird flu with no other symptoms that only happens in the morning.”

The power of positive thinking seemed to be a useless venture, but you kept it up anyway. You couldn't be pregnant. No way you were ready for that.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, and as you quickly straightened up and made yourself promise that you weren't going to be sick, no matter what, you were reminded of somebody else who wasn't ready for you to be pregnant either. You and Jake hadn't really talked about it — the occasional tipsy proposition to get started having a bunch of little Kiszkas wasn't exactly a serious discussion. Neither of you had pictured it this way, on the cusp of a tour and new album, and you decided to stick with your useless positive thinking for a little bit longer.

“Come in,” you said. Jake made his way in, drowsy and sleep-soft, dressed only in his black boxers and the necklaces he never took off. He looked at you in the mirror as he started to brush his teeth.

“Feel okay, sparrow?” he said around his toothbrush.

You nodded. “Fine. Just don't want to be up this early.”

He hummed in agreement and spit toothpaste into the sink. “You were the one who booked us a flight at the crack of dawn.”

You couldn't deny that. Though Josh and Baby had given you plenty of notice on the date of their son's third birthday party, and though you knew the date by heart because you’d been there the day little John Denver Kiszka was born, you’d procrastinated booking a flight until the early-morning option was the only one. To be fair, you'd had a lot on your mind.

Jake turned on the shower. “You wanna save water and jump in with me?”

You smiled. “I love it when you talk conservation to me.”

He smirked and pulled the shower curtain aside, ushering you in. You felt yourself relax in the quiet morning ritual of showering together, washing each other’s hair and gently bickering over who was getting the most water.

“Can you believe JD is three already?” you asked. His present from the two of you, a pint-sized pirate sword you'd gotten at the ren faire a few weeks ago, was neatly wrapped and packed in your suitcase. “It doesn't seem like it's been three years.”

“Seems like it was only yesterday,” Jake crooned in a teasing voice. “The first baby of the Kiszka-Wagner clan.” He shook his head. “It could be us, sparrow. Can you imagine us with a three-year-old? Holy cow.”

All the tension you’d thought had left quickly made its way back into your body. A nervous hand fluttered to your tummy, somehow worried that a pregnancy that you weren't even convinced was real would show itself. 

“It wouldn't be so terrible,” you said weakly.

He smiled and kissed your cheek, turning the shower off and grabbing you a towel. “No, it wouldn't be so terrible. But not right now. Soon, but not right now.”

You felt nauseous again as you toweled off and dressed. You didn't talk much as you both readied to leave, putting your suitcases in the back of the car and patting Gibson, your cat, goodbye. A kind, cat-loving coworker of yours was coming by to feed Gibby while you were gone, but Jake gave him snuggles and kisses like it was the last time they were ever going to see each other.

“You be good,” Jake said, stroking Gibby’s head as he purred like a car engine. “Mama and I love you very very much.”

Some weird, clawing thing stuck in your throat at him calling you “mama” even though he'd always referred to you that way to your cat. You kissed Gibby’s head and went out to the car, taking a few deep breaths as you watched the rain slide down the passenger side window.

“Five-thirty?” Jake groaned as he backed the car out of the driveway. “Sparrow, we gotta get some coffee.”

Your mood was pensive and distant through the drive, checking in at the airport, and boarding the plane. Jake got away with just one request for his picture and signature in the terminal; the girl was wearing a Mirador shirt, and Jake grinned at her promise to get his signature tattooed right where he’d signed it on her arm. 

“Never gets old,” he said, slinging his arm over yours as you stood in line to board. “Tell me you like being married to a rockstar.”

You gave him a weak smile. “I like being married to a rockstar.” You did, and you wouldn't trade the constant enjoyment of Jake’s skill and success as a musician. But the rockstar life made some things difficult, and you didn't dare think of what problems would arise if you really were pregnant.

Jake very sweetly gave you the window seat, intending and quickly managing to fall asleep against your shoulder. You looked out at the rainy tarmac and thought of Josh and Baby, two of your dearest friends, people who had not only managed to start a family in the middle of the rockstar life but become very good at it. Their son was the light of their lives, and they'd integrated domestic life into Josh’s whirlwind schedule of recording, touring, and constant limelight with every ounce of joy and patience a couple could ever hope to have. They would help you and Jake, happily, if it turned out that your positive thinking came to naught.

You tried to push the thought out of your head and rest against Jake, readying yourself for a day of summer birthday fun with your family. Your friends and your precious nephew deserved the best version of you, and by the time you pulled up to Josh and Baby’s beautiful old house in Frankenmuth, you were ready to jump right in.

The theme was toddler-friendly life on the high seas, and sweet, colorful, swashbuckling decorations adorned every inch of the house. Coming in, you heard your family in the kitchen and out on the back deck, the sliding door wide open to let dripping, bathing-suited partygoers come back and forth for snacks and popsicles before another splash in the pool.

“Ahoy, mateys!” Jake called, following you as you came into the kitchen. Baby looked up, a bright smile on her pretty face, and abandoned the cubes of watermelon she was spearing with tiny plastic swords.

“You’re here!” she said happily, throwing her arms around you. “Oh, I was worried — Josh said you might have bad weather coming out of Nashville.”

“Just some rain,” you assured her, so relieved to be here with her and the rest of your family. You hugged her back tightly. “How’s the party so far?”

She laughed and gestured to the back yard, accepting an affectionate ruffle of her hair from Jake. “Ready to get started, now that you're here. Have drink, put on your bathing suit, enjoy yourself.”

You went to say hello to your brothers, and JD graciously paused his relentless jumping into Sam’s arms in the pool to hug you and Jake. Dripping wet, his curly hair wreathed with sunshine, he looked up at you and your husband like you’d hung the moon.

“I so happy you're here!” he said gleefully. “Is’ my birthday!”

You smiled and kissed his chubby cheek. “It is! Happy birthday, honey.”

You let him get back to swimming and went to change into your bathing suit. Before long, you were happily drawn into sun-soaked hours of lounging by the pool, talking about everything and nothing with your family. Rosie, who wasn't as spry as she used to be but still patient and amenable to JD’s wet hands mussing her fur, thumped her tail as she lay under the shade of Danny’s chair.

“Sam wants another puppy,” Danny said, taking a long pull from a Corona. “He told his mom we're going to be parents, and she almost lost her shit until she figured out he meant another dog and not a baby.”

Sam planted a kiss on Danny’s forehead. “No babies until we're married, Wagner. I've told you this a hundred times.”

“He’s old fashioned,” Danny agreed, giving you a slightly wistful smile. “But he’s right. We’d have our hands full with a bunch of dogs and a whole entire person.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Josh called from the pool, holding JD as the little boy paddled and splashed and giggled. “You should go for it. All of you. Me and Baby feel kinda left out being the only ones with bedtimes at seven-thirty.”

Jake laughed. “No thanks. I've still got some partying years in me.”

Your throat felt tight. “Maybe partying’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Sam teased.

Baby seemed to notice something was off with you, and she put her hand over yours. 

“Will you come help me get some stuff from the kitchen?” she asked.

You went with her willingly, needing a break from the sun and the harmless teasing that seemed to twist like a knife in you. You took the Capri-suns and sub sliders from the fridge as she mixed a pitcher of what was appropriately labeled “Jack Sparrow’s missing rum punch”.

“You want some?” she asked.

You bit your lip. “Better not.”

She poured herself a drink and joined you at the counter where you half-heartedly put pirate-sail toothpicks in the sandwiches.

“All the decorations came out really cute,” you said, meaning it despite your quiet tone.

She smiled. “Thanks, sparrow. You know Jake’s had JD into pirates since the day he was born, and now that he's finally old enough to enjoy it, I figured it was time to pull out all the stops.”

She brushed your hair back from your face. “Sparrow... are you pregnant?”

You felt a vivid blush rise to your face. Was it pinned to your dress like a scarlet letter? But meeting her eyes, seeing sympathy and understanding there, you slowly nodded.

“I think so,” you all but whispered. “I — I haven't taken a test. I don't know for sure.”

“But your period’s late?” she asked calmly.

“And I've been having morning sickness,” you managed. “It — I mean, it could be the flu, but —”

She laughed, but it wasn't unkind.

“It’s probably not the flu, honey.” She squeezed your hand. “I have a test in the bathroom if you want to take it.”

You were surprised. “Are you pregnant?”

She shrugged. “Not at the moment. I’m not planning on it, but...” She gave you a wry smile. “Sometimes these things happen, sparrow. It’s not the end of the world. It might actually be the start of something really wonderful for you and Jake.”

You felt the sting of tears. “I haven't said anything to him. I didn't want to if I wasn't sure. I don't know if he’ll...” Tears spilled over. “If he’ll be happy.”

“Of course he’ll be happy,” she said, and it was so confident and so sure that you felt a buoying of hope. “He’ll be over the freakin’ moon, sparrow. Don't let all this nostalgia for partying get to you. Josh was happy when we found out we were having JD, and Jake will be happy if you find out you're having a baby too.”

You swallowed. “You think so?”

She smiled and brushed the tears from your face. “Yeah, I think so. Go find out if you are.”

You did as she said, finding the Clearblue test under the sink. Waiting was agonizing; you forced yourself to wait longer than you were supposed to, not sure if you could bear it, whatever the result was. You wanted a baby with Jake; nothing would give you more pleasure than to make him a father, to start a family with the man you loved. But was he ready? Were you ready?

Finally, you looked at the test. There, in little black letters: pregnant.

A gasping sort of sob escaped you. You clapped a hand over your mouth and sank to the floor, holding the test in shaking fingers, reading it over and over. Pregnant. You and Jake were having a baby.

You cried, but whether they were happy tears or just a sign of how overwhelmed you were, you couldn’t tell. Sitting on your best friends’ bathroom floor, you watched your tears blur that one little word that would change everything.

Eventually, you collected yourself enough to wash your face at the sink and tuck the test in the pocket of your sundress. You ventured out to the back porch and found your family in a safe, comforting chaos; Baby and Danny were swimming with JD, and the twins were soundly beating Sam in garbage. 

Jake looked up as you came out, a handsome smile lighting his face. “Hi, sweetheart. You wanna play the next hand?”

You looked over at Baby, and she grinned when you gave her a little smile. She nodded towards Jake, urging you to tell him.

“Um...” You twisted the fabric of your dress in nervous fingers. “Actually, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure. Let me just...” He laid out his cards and was met with groans from his brothers, and he smirked. “Read it and weep, fellas.”

Josh gathered up the cards to be dealt again, and Jake was careful of the empty beer bottles on the table as he stood and came inside with you. He was a little tipsy, his piratey swagger giving it away more than anything else, sun-kissed and smiley and so beautiful to you that you thought you would never get tired of just looking at him. Would your baby look like him? You hoped so, and it was the promise of another someone like Jake Kiszka in the world that made you brave enough to speak.

“I need to tell you something,” you said, your voice a little wobbly. 

He pulled you close and gave you a kiss. “Don’t tell me. You want to ravish me.”

You gave a soft laugh. “Not exactly.” You led him to the guest bedroom, though, wanting it to be just the two of you with no one walking in accidentally. 

“This is... not convincing,” he teased when you closed the door behind you. “I guess you’re feeling better than you were this morning, huh?”

You were, but the reason wasn't what he thought. Now that you knew, now that you were sure and had the confidence and encouragement of your best friend, you were feeling much better. Now you just needed Jake to tell you it would be alright.

“I think I might not be... over that,” you said cautiously. “Like, it might be a recurring thing. Every morning.”

He frowned, searching your face. “What do you mean? Is something wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Nothing's wrong.” 

“What is it, then?”

You pulled the test out of your pocket and handed it to him. “Um... I think that’s what it is.”

You waited for him to speak, to do anything, but he just looked at it in silence, cradled in the palm of his hand. Then, after a moment, he looked up at you.

“Are you serious?”

You couldn’t read his tone. Shock, surprise, maybe a little fear, something you hoped was excitement — all of them bled into the color of his voice.

“I'm serious,” you said, starting to feel like you were going to cry again. “I just took it. It's... I mean, it's pretty clear.”

He closed his hand around the test. Almost like he’d taken a blow, he stepped back and sat on the edge of the bed.

Your heart dropped right to the floor when he hid behind his free hand, leaning over his knees. Tears blurred your vision.

“I know it’s not the best time,” you said, desperate for some kind of reassurance. You came close to him. “But I think if we — if —” You didn't know what to say. “I think we can do it, Jake. I think we can have this baby.”

He lifted his head and met your eyes, a big, bright smile shining through a tearful haze. 

“You’re really pregnant?” he asked, and it was all joy.

You all but collapsed against him then, putting your arms around his neck, holding him as he tested your head against your tummy. He put his arms around you and held you close, caught somewhere between laughing and crying.

“I’m really pregnant,” you said softly. “Jake, are you happy?”

He stood and spun you around, exultant, laughing like a little boy on Christmas morning.

“Yes, I'm happy!” He stopped spinning you to kiss you, sweet and messy and so in love with you. “Are you crazy, sparrow? I've never been so happy in my whole life!”

You looked up at him with your heart in your eyes. “You don't think it's a bad time?”

He hushed you with another kiss. “No way. It's the perfect time. Forget everything I ever said about it being a bad time.” His smile was so big and beautiful. “I can't believe we're having a baby, sparrow. You're gonna be such a good mom. I love you, and I'm so proud of you. I love you so much.”

“Oh, Jake,” you said gently. “I love you too.”

He held you close and you melted against him, safe, loved, so happy you were delirious with it. You were having a baby! It sang in every part of you, and you joined in his joyful tears and watery laughter.

“Let’s go tell everybody,” he said, taking your hand. “You want to?”

You nodded, feeling that you'd never been more in love with him than you were just then.

He led you back out to the porch and tried to keep the suspense up as your family watched your giddy, excited entrance. Everyone was sitting at the table now, JD fast asleep on Josh’s lap; Jake was grinning to beat the sun, bright and shining with pride and contagious joy as the two of you stood before the people you loved.

“I don't mean to steal the little man’s thunder,” Jake said, looking with heart-rending tenderness at his brother and his baby. “This a great birthday for a great little guy. But...” He looked to you, and you gave his hand and encouraging squeeze. 

“Well, I guess we’ll be planning another birthday party soon,” Jake said, the words fairly bursting out, “because... we're having a baby!”

Your family erupted into a wonderful cacophony shocked questions and joyful hollering, chairs protesting as they were pushed back, pirate decorations toppling on the tabletop as you and Jake were surrounded with hugs and kisses and congratulations. JD woke, a little uneasy at all the happy noise, and Josh cuddled him close with a beaming smile and told him he was going to have a cousin very soon.

“Oh,” was all the little boy said, one hand tangled in Josh’s shirt as he looked on the gathering with a bleary smile.

Baby fairly tackled you, telling you how much she loved you, how happy she was for you. You stood in the circle of your family and couldn't help a few tears, but they were nothing but happy now.

After the boys reined in their joyful rowdiness and you had been hugged so many times you felt the pressure of love on you like a warm blanket, it was time for cake and presents and celebration of the first little Kiszka your family had been blessed with. JD loved all his presents, running around in his too-big pirate outfit from Sam and Danny and waving the sword you and Jake had gotten him, and the adults settled at the table to enjoy each other's company. In the light of the setting sun, sun-flushed cheeks sore from smiling and music playing and drinks flowing, you family was as beautiful to you as they had ever been.

Jake patted his lap, and you squeezed with him in the chair and welcomed his protective, loving arms around you. 

“So, what are we naming this baby?” Sam asked, dealing out a hand of cards. “Jake junior?”

“Jack Sparrow,” Josh offered.

You laughed. “Maybe. I think it’ll be a girl, though.”

Jake looked up at you. “You know already?”

You kissed him. “Not officially, honey. I didn't mean to get you all excited. But... I don't know. I can feel it.”

Baby nodded as she gathered her cards. “I could tell with JD. Sometimes you just know.”

“It should be a bird name,” Danny suggested. “Since you guys are into that sort of thing.”

Jake smiled. “Yeah, it should.” His hand rested on your tummy, and you put your hands over his. “What about Robin?”

The name washed over you with a special kind of peace. “Okay,” you said softly. “Sparrow and her Jake-bird and their little Robin.”

Your family cooed over the name as you gave Jake a gentle kiss, and you knew it was perfect for your little girl. 

Cake was eaten, drinks topped off, and music cranked up until it was well and truly a party. JD, with all the enthusiasm he could muster while falling asleep on Danny’s lap, joined in the various cheers and groans as you played cards together. You couldn't wait until you had another little Kiszka to join the party — your Robin would be around five months old at JD’s next birthday bash, and maybe there would even be another Kiszka-Wagner baby on the way. For now, though, everything was perfect, and you rested in it as you spent time with the ones you loved.

Jake pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

“I love you, sparrow,” he said gently, just for you. “And I love our little bird.”

You touched his cheek and drew him up to kiss your properly, loving the feel of his smile.

“Jakey,” you said softly. “We love you too.”

taglist: @viagvf @allieisacrybaby @itsafullmoon @spark-my-nature @anthemheatwave @xserenax-13 @musicspeaks @mountain-in-springtime @stardustsecret @alwaysonthemend @madneedshelp @josh-iamyour-mama @dannythedog @thecoldwind @woyayaofdreams @joshkiszkapunchmeintheface @lostoverseer @jakesguitarpick @heartcannotsow

join my taglist here!

(tumblr is awful at making tags work so i’m sorry if you’re not getting notifications!)

[arachnixe]

Kinship

I peer through the glass into the holding chamber. The specimen within paces aimlessly, without purpose or direction, interacting with nothing inside.

“What’s wrong with it?” I ask.

“She’s been restless and agitated like this since we separated her from the others.”

I glance over at my partner. “‘She,’ huh?”

He shrugs, looking self-conscious. “I mean, look at her. She looks like a woman, doesn’t she?” He gestures vaguely into the chamber. “Or like she used to be one. We’re working on saving her, making her a person again anyway, right?”

I suppose we are trying to save it, but I certainly can’t think of this thing as a person the way it is now. Especially so utterly directionless with its connection severed to the rest of its Swarm.

It is a pretty thing, though, I must admit, vaguely person-shaped as it is.

Its skin—or carapace, rather, rigid and chitinous—is a lovely jade green, its limbs elegant and many-jointed.

The dark, hair-like structures on the top of its head are similarly striking. They’re probably some kind of setae; I’ll want to collect a sample for study.

It looks right at me through the glass, and I exhale softly in an involuntary expression of wonder. Its multifaceted eyes—two perfectly cut rubies of immaculate shine and impossible depth—grip me with something like longing until, an eternity later, it resumes its pacing.

“Doctor Klein? You catch that?” My partner interrupts my momentary lapse of concentration.

“Hm? Oh yes, remarkable eyes. I should document the observation.”

“Er, no. I was reminding you that I will not be staying to join you on your overnight observation.”

“Right. The wedding. Good luck on that. Or congratulations? I’m never sure what to say about these things.”

He laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. I flinch at the unexpected touch and hope my tight-lipped smile reads as genuine.

I breathe a sigh of relief when he leaves.

“Maybe I am the opposite of you,” I confide to the creature through glass. “You barely function without the company of your kind, and I barely function while in the company of mine.”

I settle down and get to work. “Perhaps with just the two of us, we’ll make good progress.”

I review my notes. When it was captured, the creature was observed to be patient, intelligent, and confident. It threatened several researchers and nearly escaped a half-dozen times before it could be brought to this facility.

And then it abruptly stopped trying.

We predicted some kind of reaction, of course. This facility had been specially constructed to isolate those inside from the—still poorly understood—mental connection between members of the Swarm.

We expected it to show signs of agitation, but not this…listless melancholy.

Its behavior remains unchanged as the hours pass, even as I try various forms of stimulation. It acknowledges nothing, not even recordings of others of its kind. Its eyes focus on nothing in particular, with only one occasional exception.

It watches me observe it sometimes.

I visit the glass-walled room with a fresh mug of coffee, and I catch it looking at me again. I move, and its eyes follow.

Yes, I manage to be a figure of interest even when nothing else is. Because I am the only other living thing in here, perhaps?

I approach the speak-through grill and attempt to open communication.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Klein.”

I did not think this through and find myself at a loss without a script. “Can you even understand me?”

It stares at me, unanswering. I fidget with my skirt uncomfortably.

There is something so compelling in its eyes. Though it does not emote like a person, it somehow projects a sense of deep sadness and longing.

“You’re lonely, aren’t you?” The insight strikes me with the force of lightning. I can practically feel its loneliness myself.

Why do I feel like I understand this creature better than my own family or coworkers? Their moods could be inscrutable, but I read this creature’s melancholy as plain as day.

I press my hand to the glass, and to my surprise, it approaches the window to mirror the gesture.

To hell with the study protocols. I want to understand these creatures, and this is the furthest anyone has gotten.

I override the security on the holding chamber and enter, hoping to reinforce whatever this tenuous connection is. I am more determined than ever to save it.

“Does this help?” I ask. “There’s no Swarm here, I know, but I’m here with you, and I’m on your side.”

One step at a time, it closes the distance to me. It moves slowly, as if to avoid startling me. The whole time, its beautiful eyes stare into mine.

Soon it’s inches away.

So close, I cannot help but acknowledge to myself that it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I am utterly entranced by it.

When it reaches its hand-like appendage to my face, I lean into the touch.

So smooth. Cool to the touch. Oddly sweet and comforting.

The affection I feel for this thing surprises me, but I do not care to debate myself about the validity of those feelings.

I probably should interrogate my willingness, however, when it pulls my lips to its mouth in a kiss.

The taste is sweet, like honey. Its tongue is almost human, though alien ridges and protrusions along the sides tickle my own tongue in novel and exciting ways.

It pulls away. The experience leaves me feeling gently fuzzy headed and with a welcome euphoria.

The creature opens its mouth to speak at last. “You save me?”

I recognize, somehow, that it pulled the thought—and maybe even the words themselves—from my mind. Something about that kiss…

I nod. “Of course. That’s the most important thing. May I exit the room?”

It permits me to leave.

I do not bother to reactivate the security.

What I need is fresh air to clear my head, I decide. I make my way through the facility toward the exit, flashing my badge to the overnight guards at the checkpoints.

I need to think clearly if I am to come up with a way to save this creature. And I will save it in a way that is kinder than my partner intends.

No, he would force it to be a person again. That’s a cruelty I’ve had to live my whole life with, and I now know of another way.

The lock cycles. As I take my first step outside, the fuzziness in my head clears. It focuses into distant chatter, into light and life and song and…

The Swarm floods my mind. The sudden connection nearly drops me to my knees, but I maintain my outward composure.

Knowledge, thought, and desire floods me in a way that nearly overwhelms.

The feeling of connection and belonging is so beautiful, I nearly cry.

I don’t. A precious member of the Swarm is still held captive.

With our combined knowledge, we make a plan to save it.

[moodymisty]

Hey sickly anon here. I feel like I should explain myself a little. I was really worked up last night and just kinda sent that ask without any context and I know it must look like a troll ask.

I get that there is a lot of content focusing on thin readers/women(I don't much like those either)

It's not really that I'm super bothered by protrayals of different weight, it was just the phrasing that hit a nerve last night I think. I got sick in highschool and soon legitimately looked like a gaunt skeleton(still do tbh :/)

So not the cute desirable version of thin. More of the "is she terminal? poor thing.." To this day I get people doing horrified double-takes at me because of how I look so I guess it's slowly made me ultra sensitive about it.

And last night I had a guy get in my face and legit SCREAM because I couldn't process his return since he didn't have a receipt. And then had to do basically 3 people's jobs because 2 different coworkers decided to go to the club last night instead of work. A typical day in retail I guess.

So I get home and go straight to your blog because its a big comfort for me and I just kinda crumpled being reminded of my mess of a body.

But it wasn't really your fault. Like when you have a REALLY bad day and one more barely noteworthy little thing goes wrong/feels bad (like you drop your spoon or something) and you just McFricken lose it and can't stop the tears.

That was me last night lol. A little embarrassing in retrospec after I slept it off. I hope you don't think I was attacking you personally or anything. I was overwhelmed and just felt hurt and had to express myself somehow (did a terrible job of it I know lol. I was flustered.)

TL;DR: had a really bad day at work, getting reminded of my health condition and appearance was the last tiny nudge I needed to become a crybaby, cried about it, went to sleep, woke up feeling better and a little embarrassed I let it bother me so much.

Anyways, shenanigans aside I hope you have a good weekend :)

Hey, thanks for coming back to clarify, I preciate it. It’s no big deal, this is all a bunch of fictional stuff on the internet after all.

I grew up with a mother with severe eating disorders that put her in the ER multiple times. The way she views being fat as the ugliest thing you can be to the point she would rather die than be that way has become my inner voice for a long while and I’ve only just started to deal with my own eating disorder. The Fulgrim chubby chaser thing was just a fun meme that I was encouraging because so much of reader insert stuff has the “thigh gaps and running fingers through your hair, tiny cocktail dresses and picking you up” and it’s fun to pretend that maybe someone might like the way I look XD

And just because I answer a few asks about chubby people, they all exist in their own universe and it’s not like that’s canon. I have plenty others that don’t mention anything at all.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

One Night Stands and Phone Numbers [Frankie x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (cishet f!reader)

Warnings: Safe piv sex in the backseat of a car, kissing and normal foreplay stuff.

Summary: You owe Frankie a baseball hat and your digits. Will he get them back?

Words: 2,389

A/N: This is a sequel to Blind Dates and One Night Stands. Enjoy!

Frankie spots you immediately behind the bar when he enters, and it’s not just because you're wearing his baseball cap. No, it’s just the everythingness of you: your face, hair, body, how you laugh at something your coworker says, how you smile at him when you see him.

Last night’s sex is still fresh in his mind, and he glances quickly at the barstool where he had you. His dick twitches, and he forces himself to think unsexy thoughts, like he had to do when he was a teenager trying to hide embarrassing boners while watching the cheerleading squad practice in their short skirts.

Sliding onto a stool, he feels the heat rise in his cheeks when you lean onto the bar across from him, your plump breasts round in your cleavage, and greet him like you’ve been waiting to see him.

”Hi,” he smiles back, eyes flickering up to his hat. ”I see you found my hat.”

”I think I’ll keep it,” you wink at him, and his heart misses a beat.

”It looks better on you than on me.”

”Beer?” You're already reaching for a glass, and Frankie nods.

”I’ll have one, please.”

You pull him one and leave to serve other customers. Frankie barely touches the glass, instead following you with his eyes like some creep. Last night was good, but was it just a one time thing? Will he get your number this time?

He could still taste you on his lips when he woke up this morning, hard and leaking from the memory of you. He had had to jerk off in a feverish frenzy, and when he lay panting and stared at the ceiling, his sheets soiled with his release, all he could think of was you.

He thought of you all day, and now you are here, so close, and he has to wait for you to have time for him.

When you finally rejoin him, he’s nervously tapping his fingers against the counter.

”What time do you get off?” he asks, trying to sound cool.

”Midnight.” You turn your head to check the clock on the wall behind you. ”Hour and a half.”

That’s earlier than last night. Frankie sees an opening, and swallows quickly.

”Would you want to grab a bite? With me, I mean?”

You tilt your head a little, and your teasing grin is everything.

”Oh, I’d love a bite.”

”I’ll make sure you get one,” he replies without thinking, and that makes you laugh. Whew.

”Looking forward to it. Will you wait here?”

”Sure.”

A yawn finds its way out of you when you collect your purse from your locker, and step back to the busy bar, immediately finding Frankie in the thickening crowd. He’s standing by the bar, neck slightly bent, that thick dark hair a messy halo of a mop on his head. He comes towards you as you start walking, and when someone bumps into you, you see a shadow cast over Frankie’s face. There’s something in his eyes, like he’s taking quick measure of the situation. His otherwise so calm and sweet features are set in stone, impenetrable, and his whole body language seems to change into something that reminds you of a big feline stalking something through the jungle. He goes right back to normal in the blink of an eye, however, when the person who bumped into you apologizes without barely looking at you, and you walk on.

”You okay?” he asks you immediately when you reach him.

”Yeah, sure,” you nod, putting a hand on his arm. ”Come on, let’s get outta here.”

His broad shoulders lead the way through the crowd, and you follow closely with your hand in his. When you’re outside on the street, you tug on his hand, making him turn and face you.

”Hi,” you smile, suddenly a little shy. The smile he gives you back is so warm that you can practically feel it on your skin.

”Hi. Was work okay?”

”Uneventful.”

”That’s nice to hear.”

You take a step closer, and he seems to interpret you just right. When your lips meet, it feels like you’ve kissed a thousand times before, but he still makes your toes curl. His hat falls off your head, and neither one of you cares.

“I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he confesses in a low rumble against your lips. You hum, loop your arms around his neck, and kiss him again. It feels familiar in a way that surprises you: you don't even know him, for chrissakes.

Finally, he breaks the kiss, seemingly unwillingly, judging from the way his lips linger on yours. His breath is hot, there is a hint of beer on it, and his soft, plump lips make a stark contrast to the prick of his facial hair. A shudder runs through you, and he misinterprets it.

"You're getting cold, let's go get something to eat. I know a great diner nearby."

You don't correct him, just pick up his hat, put it back on your head, and let him take you by the hand.

Turns out, it's the same diner that you like, and both of you already have favorites on the menu. As you wait for your orders, you talk about what a wonder it is that you haven't seen each other here before, given the fact that both of you seem to eat here "all the time".

Frankie reveals that he's been in the military and thus out of the country from time to time. He's retired now, however, and in-between jobs, looking for something to settle into. You have your bartending job, liking it enough to not be looking for anything else, but you don't know if you want to keep doing that for the rest of your life. The night shifts get heavier with each year, and rarely having weekend nights off has definitely had an impact on your social - and dating - life.

The conversation flows easily as you eat. Frankie is not only good-looking, but also funny and considerate. Around halfway through dinner, you decide to sleep with him again, if he's interested. After you've paid and left the diner, he walks you back to your car. Clearly unwilling to say good night, he nevertheless seems to want to wrap it up somehow, so that you won't have to remain out in the cold. Besides, you're constantly stifling yawns.

"I had a really nice time," he tells you finally. "Can I see you again?"

"I have a family birthday in the weekend," you tell him ruefully. "But next week?"

"I'd like that.

You put your lips on his, and he pulls you into his warmth as he sucks your lower lip into his mouth. The memory of the previous night burns between your legs, and as Frankie turns the truck onto the main road, you clench around emptiness in a desperate attempt to alleviate the hunger.

Goddamnit.

"Frankie?" you murmur, hands sliding down his front, then around to his ass. "'s your truck parked near here?"

"Yeah?"

"Take me to it."

Frankie gets it fast. He takes your hand and walks with you to his truck, parked around the corner. You get into the backseat of the truck, Frankie following, and as soon as the door slams shut behind him, you pull at his jacket lapels, make him come to you as you half sit, half lie in the backseat.

"You sure about this?" he asks you breathlessly while shoving you skirt up your thighs. Your heart is in your throat, nervous and excited at the same time, and you nod frenetically as your legs spread to give him access to the wet apex of your thighs. He smiles, you can just about see it in what light the streetlamps offer, and his hand stops high up on the inside of your thigh.

"Lemme hear you say it." His voice is smooth and gravelly at the same time, how is that even possible? You swallow hard.

"I'm very sure that I want you to fuck me right here and now, Frankie."

Immediately, his hand rushes up to cup you over your lace panties, and you move against it, wanting friction. Your kisses are hurried but Frankie keeps trying to gain control of the situation, like he wants it to be slow. You can't do slow, not like this, so you fight to open his belt and get at his fly. The prong sings against the metal buckle when you unzip his pants, and Frankie finally seems to understand that this is not going to be slow and sweet. He yanks down your top and buries his face in the cleft of your cleavage, dragging down your bra to free your tits from its cups. His cock is straining against the fabric of his boxers, and you reach for your purse. A low growl rises from Frankie, and you giggle breathlessly.

"I'm just grabbing a rubber."

"Let's get you wet first."

"I'm wet enough." You're not absolutely sure that that's true, considering his size, but you want it hard and tight now. He showed you last night that he's considerate and will go down on you if you only ask him, but if you got off on fucking him in the bar where you work last night, fucking him in the backseat of his parked pickup truck in the middle of town feels so dirty that you only want it just like that: dirty.

Frankie growls low and ducks down between your thighs. The conditions are cramped but somehow, he manages to press his face against the drenched lace. He inhales deeply before pushing the cloth aside to flick his tongue at your clit. Your first closes tightly around the condom, and you try to raise your hips to make the angle less extreme for him. Your skirt bunched up around your hips, Frankie takes a hold of your hips and lifts them up in the air. You yelp, one foot finding the back of the driver's seat, the other propping itself up on the seat as you grab hold of whatever's the closest to help him. The crotch of your panties slips back in place, but he rubs his lips, chin, and nose against you, teasing you mercilessly until your legs are shaking from effort and arousal. He puts you down, licks his lips, and kisses you deeply before you shove him off of you enough to pull out his cock and get the condom on.

It's probably the least comfortable sex you've ever had, but it's still in the top three of the best sex. Lacking proper warm-up, your pussy still eagerly swallows Frankie's cock entering from an awkward angle. The space isn't working to your advantage but there is nothing in Frankie's performance that warrants any complaints: he takes care to only go halfway in at first, shoving his impressive inches all the way only when the resistance is lower. Covering you, he drives himself in, over and over, harder and faster than you thought he'd be able to in these spatially compromised circumstances. You try to brace yourself against the door, a seatbelt buckle is digging into your shoulder, one foot propped behind the neck rest, one arm thrown around Frankie, who’s panting hotly against your tits.

"Fuck, baby," he presses, licking sloppily at your nipple. "Such a screamer, you doing okay?"

You didn't even realize you were being loud.

"Don't you dare stop," you moan, shifting slightly to relieve the pressure on your lower back. Frankie curses low, pulls out - you mewl unhappily and reach for him, but he pulls you up.

"Let's switch."

You reorganize yourselves, arms and legs and clothes in the way, and with Frankie sitting in the backseat, you're free to straddle him. Pulling your panties to the side, you devour his thick cock with your pussy in one swift move. Frankie's hands come to your tits, his eyes are glassy in the sparse light, and he thrusts upwards once.

"Ride my cock," he tells you, and there is no mistaking his tone. You seize a neck rest with one hand and Frankie's shoulder with the other, and you ride him like a bat out of hell. The slick slapping of skin against skin, the rustle of clothing, your loud, heavy breathing, Frankie's moaning - Jesus Christ, he moans, he's a man who moans - is all you can hear, and it's just as good as last night, it's better than last night, you're almost hoping for someone to pass by and see you, witness this fantastic fuck that's driving you closer and closer towards your climax with each grind, each yesyesyes ohgodyes. Frankie shoves your skirt out of the way, stares down at the spot where the two of you are connected, eyes round and mouth hanging open in bliss and bewilderment. When you throw your head back, your body tense and ready to burst, he shoves his hand down, thumb pressing down on your clit.

You scream. The orgasm is brief but blazing, leaving behind a warm, soggy sensation when you lean back with your hands on Frankie's knees, moaning throatily. Frankie leans forwards and sucks a nipple into his mouth.

"Fuck, baby, so fucking hot, I'm gonna cum in just a second, just stay where you are," he babbles, mouth full of your soft flesh and stiff nipples. Moments later, he thrusts up into you, grimacing into your tits, a growl escaping him as he keeps you still on his cock with a steely grip of your ass cheeks.

Some ten minutes later, you both step out of the truck. Frankie cages you gently against it, lips on your flushed cheek, your sweaty forehead, your dry lips.

"Next time I want to do this in a bed."

“Oh, you’re a romantic?”

“Unapologetically.”

"This weekend?" you suggest immediately. His lips are now on your neck.

"You had a family thing?" His hands are wandering down your front, cupping your tits, and your breath hitches.

"Don't care. Want you."

He pulls back a little, smiling so sweetly that you think that this is it, you're actually in love, not just attracted.

"Can I have your number now?"

You smile back, and there's a glint in his eye.

"Yes, you can."

[ohgodimafraud]

Incense Coworker Obs (m) by anon73

Hi all I just wrote this on my phone.

Fandom: j/jk (nana/go)

Summary: Nana/mi recounts the events of his last meeting on the forum.

sneezefetishforum.com

>Private Boards

>>Adult Board

>>>Adult Observations, Stories and Artwork

>>>>Observations

Incense Coworker Obs (m) by anon73

Tags: allergy, m

Posting this in the adult board just in case.

Tonight I witnessed something at the late night meeting I was forced to attend.

Some background: my coworker S is annoying and arrogant but more relevantly, he’s prone to sneezing fits and has been for as long as I’ve known him. For those of you who like visuals, he’s in his late twenties, is around 180 cm and at first glance has a lanky build, though he’s rather muscular and well-toned. He is widely considered handsome and has long eyelashes and bright eyes and light hair. His nose is larger than average and is upturned, and it just looks sensitive. He doesn’t get sick often but strong scents will set him off and it’s an open secret that he’s photic.

Presumably, one of the higher-ups at the company had lit incense earlier, and it remained burning in the corner and filling the room with a sharp pine or evergreen-like scent throughout the meeting. It made my nose itch for a few moments and I could only imagine what this was doing to him. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him shamelessly massage the sides of his nose, running the pads of his fingers up and down from the base of his nostrils to the bridge of his nose.

The debriefing started to fade into the background and I had to decide whether to pay attention to what was about to unfurl to enjoy later or on the information that was being shared. And as I tried to decide, he started sniffling, each one sounding more necessary than its predecessor. And then—

“h-hih…hehhh…-ihhdSCHh’iyew!” Sometimes the ends of his sneezes go up in pitch and swell in volume and it drives everyone nuts (including me). It’s unfortunately really hot. He sighed and sneezed again three more times. They were less intentionally dramatic but the hitches in between were especially vocal: “heh!! tSChh’ih! Hhih’tzSCHh! h-hehh…ihtschh!”

One of our coworkers next to him whispered a blessing and sounded somewhat amused. Part of me truly wished it could’ve ended there, even though I knew it was just the beginning, and another part felt bad for him. He might be a pain in the ass, but he was having a public allergy attack in an otherwise formal setting and a quick glimpse revealed that his nose was already taking on a pink tint. I had to remind myself not to stare. I could tell by the way his breathing was becoming more shallow and pronounced that he wasn’t done anyway.

“HEH’SCHhh’iewww!” He sneezed again, and I swear he was dragging it out to be extra long on purpose, perhaps to derail the meeting or perhaps to encourage someone to put out the incense. “Ihhtshh! Ktshh! Ihh’EHSCHhzh! Guh…excuse mbe guys. I think whatever’s burndi’gg is bothering my ndose,” he said. The way his congestion was already audible is still burned into my brain.

Suddenly my pants were too tight, as was my tie, but I did my best to sit in a way that concealed my reaction to it all. The incense was put out and the smell of smoke joined the original scent. I knew immediately without looking that: 1. he had not finished his original allergy attack and 2. this was about to make things worse.

“Do you have a tissue?” he asked our other coworker. She checked her bag and produced a few stray ones. He clapped his hands together and thanked her seriously and one of the higher ups in the company cleared his throat. They all really do not like S. I wouldn’t be surprised if they lit the myrrh incense (that’s what I think it was at least) just to torture him.

He blew his nose as the meeting went on and a few people turned their heads. I tried not to do the same.

“hYSSCH’hyuuh! Hahh’DTZschhiu! IHSHHhh’u!”

I had to memorize how it sounded for later, this took me far too long and half a glass of whiskey for me to attempt to spell it out.

When I glanced over at him, his glasses were hanging off the end of his nose, and the rims of his nostrils were obscured by the sodden wad of tissues he’d kept glued there. I couldn’t keep myself from looking, just tried to react as little as possible like the person next to me. If there weren’t someone sitting between us, I’m not sure that I would’ve been able to make it.

“A’ddy more?” I heard him whisper to our coworker. She had no more tissues, and I honestly felt bad for him. Especially when he sneezed again and tried stifling. It was poorly held back, and I could tell the tissues had outlived their usefulness and could no longer absorb anything.

I quietly offered him the handkerchief from my pocket. And he smiled at me before sneezing directly into it. It wasn’t particularly loud, but it was desperate, as if he’d been holding back until he had something to catch it with. I said bless you under my breath as evenly as possible since he’d been looking at me.

“Thank you [anon73]~” He smiled at me again and I looked away. One of the higher ups called recess and while he left the room, I was unable to leave my spot as I needed a moment.

He didn’t sneeze much more after that, but he did sniffle a lot. The events continued on loop in my head and I figured unless I write it down, I’ll continue to be burdened with it.

[mountain-in-springtime]

just a taste

pairing: vampire!danny x reader | word count: 3k | warnings: swear words, blood, negative self-talk, kissing, manipulation (depending on how you read danny’s intentions), light gore (not really but i feel like i should put this just in case) | my masterlist

summary: danny goes to comfort the reader after a rough day, but tensions rise as his behavior suggests that he may be hiding a strange secret

author’s note: first of all, apologies bc that summary is terrible. but anyway, this fic is a bit different from my other works, but it was really fun to write. i hope y’all like it!! also letting y’all know ahead of time: the vampire themes are very light until the end

*******************************************************

You walked into your apartment and slammed the door behind you, turning the deadbolt into place and sliding your chain lock before you slumped into the nearest kitchen chair. Your head quickly found its way into your hands as sobs shook through your frame.

For the last month you had been able to hold yourself together, but today was your breaking point. All you could see when you closed your eyes was your ex’s face as he smiled and flirted with your coworker. Their laughter rang through your ears, deepening your heart’s wounds with every echo. You didn’t even miss him or want to be with him, but somehow you couldn’t help but be angry with yourself, thinking of all the things you might have done to drive him away. You tried to remind yourself that the split was never your fault, but as hot tears painted your cheeks the idea seemed harder and harder to believe. So there you sat, weeping into your hands as cries filled the air of your empty apartment.

As seconds turned to minutes your eyes began to dry, and your sobs faded to muted whimpers. Your eyes scanned the kitchen and the living room beyond it, and you decided that to spend the evening alone would be unbearable. You pulled out your phone and dialed the one person you know you could turn to. After a few moments, he finally answered.

“Hey, what’s up?” Danny greeted. Just hearing his voice was enough to help you calm down.

“Hey, Danny. Um, would you maybe want to come over this afternoon? I had a bad day at work and could use the company,” you asked him.

His answer was immediate. “Of course. I’ll be over in about ten minutes. You okay? Do you need me to bring anything?”

The questions were enough to make you want to burst into tears again, but you fought them back enough to answer him with a quick, “Nope, just yourself. I’ll see you when you get here. Thanks so much, Danny.”

“Okay then,” he replied, “I’ll see you soon.” You both said your goodbyes, and you reluctantly hung up. The temporary comfort your call with Danny gave you soon began to fade as you realized that you were still alone in your apartment. You decided to hop in the shower, hoping to distract yourself from the looming emptiness of your home.

Your steps were slow but determined as you made your way to the bathroom, and upon entering the room you began to methodically peel your clothes from your body. As you stepped into the shower and felt the warm water cascade down your figure you could sense the muscles in your shoulders slowly losing their tension. The stress gradually lessened and flowed away like the water running towards the drain, and you began to feel better. You decided to grab your razor, lazily shaving the lower portion of your legs. This proved to not be the best idea, however, as your last stroke resulted in a small cut forming on your shin. It wasn’t incredibly painful, but it still left a small trail of blood down your leg. You moved the shower head to rinse the crimson liquid away and cursed under your breath.

You finished your shower and grabbed a towel, quickly drying yourself off. Realizing you forgot to grab a set of pajamas before you came into the bathroom, you opted to slip on your robe for the meantime. You began to brush your hair until you were interrupted by a knock at your door. Figuring it must be Danny, you put down your brush and tightened your robe before going to let him in.

As you swung open the door, you were greeted by your friend’s warm smile. He looked incredibly comfy, clad in a pair of sweatpants and a faded band tee that exposed just a bit of his midriff when he raised his hand to scratch the back of his neck. Taking note of his outfit, you suddenly remembered that you were wrapped in just your bathrobe, making a small blush creep across your face.

“Hey,” you greeted him, “I’m so glad you came. Um, I just got out the shower, so I’m gonna go run and put on some pajamas real quick, but you can come in and make yourself at home while I do that.” You opened the door wider to give him room to walk in past you.

Danny gave a small chuckle before answering you with a soft “Alright, take your time. No rush.”

You smiled at him and thanked him before walking to your bedroom. You threw off your robe and got dressed, deciding to wear an oversized t-shirt with a small pair of sleep shorts that had honestly seen better days.

When you exited your room, Danny was seated on your couch, scrolling on his phone and absentmindedly tapping a beat on his thigh. You loved that even when his mind wasn’t on it, he was making music. For a second you debated leaving him in this state, but decided against it, clearing your throat and giving him a small, “Hey. Thanks for coming over.”

He smiled up at you, tossing his phone to the side as you came to sit on the recliner to his left. “It’s no problem,” he responded, “Just being a good friend. So what happened? Do you wanna talk about it?”

You let out a long sigh, considering if you even wanted to get into the whole mess that led you here, but you ultimately decided that it would be unfair to call Danny over and not even tell him what was going on. “It’s Jason,” you started, “It’s been about a month since the breakup, and I’d been doing so well, y’know? Like I barely even looked at him at work, and when I did, I didn’t wanna break down or scream at him or anything. I think the feelings had finally started to fade away like everyone said they would.” Danny silently nodded and waited for you to continue.

You took another deep breath before going on, “But then today I was in the break room, and I hear someone laughing or whatever, and I look and he’s talking to Melanie. I could tell by the look on his face that he was flirting with her, and from the way she was laughing he must have been really laying it on thick. I mean, how could he do that? I know we’re broken up, but do you have to flirt with someone right in front of me? And why Melanie? We’re not super close or anything, but we are work friends, and he knows that! Plus, it doesn’t help that she looks like the exact opposite of me. I mean, he couldn’t make it less obvious that he doesn’t want me if he tried. I probably disgust him.” A sob rips it way out of your throat. You didn’t know when you had started crying but now it felt like you couldn’t stop. The tears poured out of your body in a way that you couldn’t control.

Danny eyed you sympathetically before reaching out his hands, grasping yours in a firm yet comforting grip. “Hey, hey,” he cooed, “It’s alright. Jason was an asshole. Hell, he still is an asshole, and if he can’t see what a knockout you are, that’s his loss, okay? You’re funny and beautiful, and any guy would be lucky to get the chance to make you happy. Besides, who cares what he thinks anyway? He’s a grown man who wears enough Axe body spray to give a middle school basketball team a run for their money.”

Your sobs turned into small giggles after his comment, eventually shifting into a full-on fit of laughter. “Yeah, I guess you have a point there,” you answered once you finally began to regain your composure.

Danny held his hands up in mock innocence. “It had to be said,” he joked. A small smile graced his features, and you were reminded of how incredibly warm his presence was. His kind personality permeated your body, always making you feel at home. This warmth suddenly faltered, however, as Danny’s smile briefly fell. Your brows knit in confusion, and you followed his line of sight, realizing his gaze was on your shin.

Your cut had seemingly reopened, leaving a small trail of blood that leaked from your leg onto the recliner. A small gasp left your lips. “Oh fuck, I thought that had stopped bleeding,” you sighed, bringing a hand to the small wound, hoping to stop the bleeding.

“You need to put a bandaid on that,” Danny advised, a hint of concern now painting his features.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “Can you grab me a bandaid? I have some in the bathroom cabinet. Bottom shelf.”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, rushing to the bathroom. He returned in seconds with a bandaid. “There you go,” he said, handing it to you.

“Thanks,” you responded, quickly opening the packaging. As you took your hand off of your leg, you noticed that Danny turned his head, seemingly not wanting to look at the cut. “What’s the matter Daniel?” you teased, “Blood makes you squeamish?”

He visibly tensed. “Uh, something like that,” he answered.

You let out a small hum in reply. You thought it was a bit odd that he seemed so bothered over a small cut, but you didn’t say anything. Some people just can’t handle the sight of blood, you supposed.

Once you were sure that your wound was covered, you stood up and looked to Danny. He shot you a somewhat weak smile, one that didn’t carry the warmth of his typical expression. In fact, something felt a bit off about his grin. It somehow felt darker. In all honesty, it was the kind of smile that would send shivers down your spine if it came from anyone but Danny.

You must have been staring at him as these thoughts raced through your mind because he soon regained your attention with a reluctant, “What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing,” you replied, “Something just looked… different about your face for a second. Like maybe you had vampire teeth or something.” A small laugh left your lips at the idea.

Danny was quick to join in the laughter. “Sounds like somebody’s imagination is playing tricks on them,” he quipped, “No fangs here.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, well, don’t get any funny ideas, Wagner. I’ve got a shit ton of garlic in the kitchen,” you warned.

He nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

A giggle escaped your lips before you turned your attention to the small spot of blood left on the recliner. “I guess I better try to get that up before it stains the chair,” you sighed, earning a nod from Danny. You walked to the kitchen, pulling a bottle of cleaner out from under the sink and grabbing a wad of paper towels. You turned on the sink, wetting the paper towels and wringing them out. Moments later you walked into the living room and knelt in front of the recliner. You sprayed the spot with cleaner and began to scrub away with the paper towels, hoping to remove the mark. After a few moments you pulled back your hand and saw that the spot was slowly fading. You got up and handed the spray bottle to Danny. “Can you just spray the chair again?,” you asked, “I’m gonna grab some more paper towels.”

He responded with a hesitant nod and a quiet “uh, sure, yeah,” as you left the room.

“I’m sorry about all this,” you called from the kitchen, “I didn’t mean for you to come here and get all squeamish. I’m sure this is a bit weird.” A moment passed, and you heard no reply from Danny. Thinking this was odd, you began to walk faster towards the living room, wanting to make sure your friend was okay. As you stepped into the room, you saw him standing at the recliner, staring at it as if he was in a trance. “Hey,” you spoke up, “You alright?”

He gave his head a brief shake before responding, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” He turned to you, blinking his eyes to seemingly refocus his concentration. It was hard to tell, but you could swear that his pupils had been blown wide, almost in an unnatural way, making his normal warm gaze look like a dark glare. Your eyes flitted down to his teeth, which yet again bore that wicked, sharp look. A brief moment of fear overtook you, but you tried to remain calm, telling yourself that this was all your imagination, and even if it wasn’t, Danny would never hurt you.

You were pulled from these thoughts as he gave your shoulder a small nudge. “You okay?,” he asked.

“Yeah,” you began to answer, “I just- you had that kinda different look on your face again.”

His body tensed, but only for a moment. “Oh,” he replied, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to freak you out. It’s probably just me still being a bit off because of the cut and everything.” He anxiously raised a hand to rub the back of his neck before letting it fall back at his side.

“Oh my god,” you replied, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that kind of thing bothered you so much. Do you need to sit down? Can I help at all?”

He turned towards you, though his eyes never seemed to meet your gaze. “No, no, it’s okay. I actually should probably get going. I, um, have to get up early in the morning, anyway. Plus, you had a rough day today, so I don’t wanna be in the way or anything,” he assures you.

“Danny, it’s really no problem. Besides, I don’t think you should be driving home if you’re gonna feel nauseous or light-headed or anything,” you countered.

He shook his head. “No, I’ll be okay. I just really need to get home,” he insisted.

“I don’t know,” you began, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Danny. I really would feel a lot better if you’d stay here. Or maybe I can drive you home? I can stay there with you or just drop you off?”

He shook his head again at your offer, and when he replied, his voice came out harder. “Thanks, but I’m good. I just need to be alone okay. I need to get out of here,” he explained.

Your brows knit, feeling that something was off. “Danny, is something going on?” you asked, “You’re being kind of weird. Is there something else that you don’t want to tell me?”

He was growing visibly frustrated, and you could feel the tension in the room getting thicker by the second. He ran a hand down his face and groaned before responding, “Look, I can’t get into this right now, okay? Just let me get out of here, and we’ll talk about it later.”

He reached his hand out to grab his keys but you grabbed his wrist, stopping his movement. “Danny, look. I don’t want to pry, but you’re being weird, and it’s really freaking me out. I need you to tell me what’s happening right now,” you demanded.

Before Danny could think, he responded with the first words on his mind: “I just can’t be around you, okay?” Immediately after speaking you could see the regret on his face, but it was too late.

“So that’s what this is about?” you ask him, “Why did you even come then? If I bother you that much-“

“It’s not like that!,” he tried to interject, “I just-“

“Then what is it like, Danny?” you questioned, “I don’t understand how else I could interpret you saying that.”

He let out a long sigh before answering. “I can’t be around you because I can’t resist you.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but it rang louder than ever in your mind.

“What?” you asked, frozen with shock.

“I can’t resist you,” he repeated, “Everything about you is just impossible for me to stay away from. The sound of your voice, your smile, the way you fucking smell. It all drives me insane. I want to take it all in until it’s burned into my mind and my memory, but I know that you don’t want that, so it’s easier for the both of us if I just stay away.”

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, letting the weight of what Danny said wash over you. Then, your feet began to move, bringing you towards him. You pulled him down to you, crashing your lips onto his. After a moment’s hesitation, he returned the kiss with all of the passion in his being. His hands roamed your body, feeling every curve as you pressed yourself closer to him, desperate to become a part of him. Your lips traveled up his jaw, peppering hungry kisses that caused a groan to rise from his throat. His lips matched yours in fervor, moving to your throat and sucking at the hollow of your neck. Small, sharp gasps left your mouth as his kisses became rougher and sloppier and his grip on you tightened, practically holding you in place.

Suddenly, you felt his teeth latch onto your neck. The sensation was overwhelming, and soon the lines between pleasure and pain began to blur. You were still lost in the passion between the two of you when you felt a sharp pain on your neck as Danny’s teeth pierced your skin followed by the pressure of him sucking on your wound. “Danny?” you asked, worry in your voice, “What are you doing?”

His grip moved up to your neck, holding your head in place. “Just having a taste, baby,” he growled, his voice filled with hunger and lust, “just a taste.”

A loud gasp left your lips and your hands dug into his shoulders, but it was all too late. Your vision faded to black, the feeling of Danny’s lips on your neck the last thing on your mind before you slipped out of consciousness.

taglist: @westernwoods @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @alwaysonthemend @andtherestishistory13

[muffinbeliever]

Neighborly Love [02]

Pairing: Coworker!Dean Winchester x Coworker!Reader

Word Count: 1131

Warnings: nothing ? trauma dumping lol but nothing that we didnt know already

Summary: Coworker!AU– Dean Winchester is the newbie around the office, and also your new cubicle neighbor. You have him all figured out from the start: a jerk, or so you think. It doesn’t help that he won’t stop flirting with you. Will Dean be able to convince you otherwise? 

A/N: oop hey guys *shyly tucks hair behind my ears* its been a while huh i was recently reminded that i actually told someone that id be posting the second chapter in december 2022 so we all know how that turned out... but anyways the only thing i can think of is #the hoes are gonna LOVE this have no fear y'all mother is here to feed you with a light chapter of lunch fluff

Masterlist | Neighborly Love Masterlist

You had just finished the fourth page of your project report, starting to double check for mistakes, when Dean cleared his throat. A quick glance showed him standing by the partition, his jacket hanging from his arm and an expectant look on his face. 

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You continued to proofread while you waited for his reply, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried to reword an awkward sentence. 

“I asked if you wanna get lunch,” he said. Your fingers hovered frozen over the keyboard. 

“Lunch?” You repeated, finally turning in your chair to face him properly. 

“Yeah, you know, the meal between breakfast and dinner? Eaten around midday? We get an hour off work? Which is right about now?” He teased, his green eyes twinkling with playfulness. 

“I know what lunch is.” You pretended to be annoyed to hide your amusement. “I was just processing the thought of lunch with you.” 

“Ouch,” he joked. “And here I was, doing a good deed by inviting you to lunch so you wouldn’t think of your breakup.” 

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about the breakup until right now,” you groaned. You had been so preoccupied with your report, you hadn’t given your breakup a single thought, but now, you had a whole hour to do nothing but that. 

“Then we’ll just have to go to lunch to take your mind off it,” he responded with a smirk. You debated continuing your work instead, but gave Dean’s offer a second thought.

“Beats work, I guess.” 

You saved your work and turned off the monitor before grabbing your purse. Your eyes swept the desk as you rose from the chair, and you had one arm in your jacket when you saw his grin. 

“What?” You asked, a little wary of his response.

“Nothing.” He was unsuccessful in feigning nonchalance. You gave him a pointed look.

“I…” He trailed off as he collected his thoughts. “I just think we got off on the wrong foot, and I’m hoping this lunch will be better,” he admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck and his eyes were averted, hinting towards his nervousness. You were thrown off by his truthfulness, but after a moment, you were surprised to find that you agreed.

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. The grin he returned conveyed his relief, and you swore the air felt a little lighter. “Come on, then. Part of inviting me to lunch is actually going.”

“Alright,” he chucked. “Where should we go? Lady’s choice.” 

The diner across the street was nothing special, but it was close and fast– two things you appreciated. The hostess seated the two of you upon arrival, and within five minutes, your orders were taken.

“So, Y/N Y/L/N, tell me about yourself,” Dean said, after the waitress set down your drinks. 

“There’s not much to tell,” you warned. 

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug. “When you’re an only child and both of your parents are on-call surgeons, it’s kinda lonely and boring. I read a lot as a kid and focused on school. I always went to class and ran for student-body president. Don’t get me wrong, though, I had a social life and friends. I dated a couple of boys and fooled around with a couple more, but nothing wild. And then I went to college, but that wasn’t anything wild either.”

You were quiet for a moment, giving yourself time before continuing. 

“I met Zach during the second half of junior year. We were in the same class and, I don’t know, I guess we kinda just clicked. We got coffee a couple of times and worked on a couple of projects together. Even after the semester was over, we kept in contact and eventually he asked me out and we started dating. After graduation, I got this job and he took an offer at a tech company two hours away.” 

A familiar lump began to form in your throat. “It’s been a year since then, and I thought things were going fine between us, but clearly they weren’t. And I–” 

Your vision blurred from the tears brimming your eyes. You took a deep breath. Dean offered the glass in front of you, and you sipped at it while the waitress set down your plates. Your mouth watered at the sight of the cheeseburger in front of you. 

“Anyways, enough about me,” you said, once the waitress had left. “What about you?” 

Dean shrugged in response. 

As you ate, he talked about the house fire that took his mother when he was four, leaving his dad to take care of him and his younger brother, Sam, who was only six-months-old at the time. He shared how his dad turned to alcohol after the tragedy, and how it was the cause of the car accident that killed him ten years later. Bobby, a close family friend without kids of his own, adopted the brothers right after. Dean struggled through high school and vowed to never set foot on a school campus again once he graduated. He lived at Bobby’s until Sam finished high school, working as a mechanic at Bobby’s body shop. From there, Dean bounced around, taking the odd job here and there.

You listened to his story with rapt attention, admiring his animated gestures and shining eyes as he talked about Sam, who was now in his last year of college. The brothers had remained close over the years, despite their physical distance.

“Eventually, after working so many different jobs, I had gained experience that employers valued– at least, enough to overlook my lack of college degree– and I ended up here,” he concluded with a shrug. He was relaxed against the cushion of the booth, reaching out his hand to swipe a french fry through ketchup. His fingers drummed on the table while he chewed. 

“Thanks for sharing that with me,” you said softly, offering him a small smile. His fingers stopped their tapping.

“Thanks for taking me up on lunch,” He responded, just as softly. His forearms rested against the table as he subtly leaned closer, mirroring you. The sunlight hit him at the perfect angle, revealing the flecks of gold amongst his vivid green eyes and the smaller, fainter freckles dusting his cheekbones. Your breath hitched at the sight.

The corners of his mouth slowly raised to a smile– the movement catching your attention. Your gaze lowered to his lips and you found yourself wondering if they were as soft as they looked. 

“Like what you see?” He was parroting his first words to her using the same, smooth flirtatious tone that had irritated every nerve in your body yesterday, but today, you found you didn’t mind it one bit.

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine @bluedragonflylady @cevans-winchester @bakugouswh0r3 @muhahaha303 @allaroundjejje

[momiji-bookhouse]

Your writing is so good, I love reading your work! Could you write for Albedo + Glaze Lily please?

[Glaze Lily]: "Tell me, oh storyteller, of the tale of those ill-fated, star-crossed lovers."

Event Masterlist

pairing: Albedo x gn!reader

genre: angst

At its core, the art of alchemy goes against the natural order of the world. The process of breaking an object down into its very essence, molding it to one's will and transfigure it into something else entirely, is one that displays the arrogance of humankind in thinking they can tame something that cannot, and should not, be controlled. But those ever lofty gods do not take heed to these trivial acts of arrogance. What harm is there in allowing mere mortals to fiddle with a little sliver of power?

Alchemy remains harmless to their eyes, until it deals with giving what was once inanimate or decayed feeble life, something they thought they have buried deep underground long ago.

Their fears are realized when a practitioner of that forbidden knowledge appeared in the high walls of Mondstadt.

"Do you think he'll come today?"

"I sure hope so! He's so dreamy~."

You finish the coffee order in your hand, only half-listening to the conversation from your coworkers about some guy who's been coming into the cafe lately.

"What's so great about this guy anyways?" You ask after handing the coffee to the customer.

"Oh (Y/N), if you were here then you would get it. He's so handsome! He must a model. Or an actor."

"Or a prince of some kind. Gods, he looks like he's straight out of a fairy tale. I wouldn't mind if he sweeps me off my feet."

"And his voice...I can melt just thinking about it. Do you think he voices audiobooks?"

"Maybe he can help cure my insomnia by reading a bedtime story to me."

You look at them in suspicion. "That sounds a little too perfect."

"I thought so too! But man, he's so fine. Even his name is pretty." One of them sighs. "Albedo."

Something prickles at the back of your mind at the name, but you quickly shake the feeling off. "That's a rare name."

"I know! I tried looking him up, but he doesn't seem to have much of a social media presence."

"Oh, if only he would show up for your last shift, (Y/N), then you'll see."

You smile ruefully at the reminder that this will be the last time you work here before you move to another city. "Let's see what happens."

To your coworkers' dismay, there's no sign of that mysterious, golden customer. Though you can't deny that you're curious, there's no help mulling on what could have been, especially when you're going to be leaving soon.

At the end of your shift, you change out of your work clothes and hug all of your coworkers goodbye, clocking out one last time before exiting out the back door to start a new chapter in your life.

A few minutes later, the bell chimes, and a young man with hair as pale as chalk walks through the front door.

───── ⋆⋅✨⋅⋆ ─────

The gods trembled upon their divine seats in a mixture of fear and indignation at the last remaining student of the Art of Khemia. An abominable creature existing outside of their jurisdiction that cannot be directly influenced by their dictated fate.

But they would not make their move just yet. No, let the false creation be lured into a sense of security. Let him be convinced that he deserved a life of happiness and peace.

He would make a mistake soon enough.

Spending time in an art gallery isn't what you expected for your day-off, but some of your colleagues have recommended this place to you ever since you've moved here, so you figured there's no harm in going. Besides, it would be a nice change of pace, and it's free to enter to boot.

Coincidentally, the day you decided to go is the day that the gallery is introducing a new exhibition from an artist that you've never heard of before.

"Kreideprinz?" You pronounces as you look at the brochure in curiosity, the name settling into your tongue like a well-worn blanket.

"It means Chalk Prince," the person at the counter informs you. "He's a rising artist that started out in the online space and amassed a following over the years for his sketches and paintings. He's famous for blending realism with a fantastical approach in his landscape depictions. His identity has been a well-kept secret in the industry, but there's a rumor that he may appear at the event tonight."

"Is that so?" You say under your breath while scanning quickly through the brochure. There's no denying the beauty of these images.

"You can find out more on the website if you're interested."

The exhibition is called "On the Boundary", and according to the brochure in your hand, displays a series of his paintings that depicts the world constantly in motion and often on the cusp of a transitional stage.

You stroll through the gallery and find yourself lost in these worlds: from a blooming field of Cecilias that hide signs of decay and rot; to the ancient mountain of Vindagnyr — verdant and prosperous, only belied by a thin flutter of snow on the ground; to the old city of Mondstadt blanketed by darkness and a whisper of a storm.

But not all of it signifies doom and gloom. There's the Tower of Decarabian and the bubbles of resistance hidden among the crowd. The early formation of Liyue Harbor, a skeleton of its now glorious self. The rain slowing its downpour on Yashiori Island. A dazzling depiction of Sumeru City as dreams return to its people.

You stop at a painting of Starsnatch Cliff at night, not as sprawling or grandiose as the others, but something about the simplicity of it draws you in. You wonder what the change could be in this one, could it be the saplings of Cecilia dotted throughout the dusky landscape? Or something in the breeze? Or maybe it's the silhouette of two figures sitting on the precipice of the cliff, bodies so close together that they almost seem to be fusing.

You stare at the sight, entranced. An overwhelming, unnameable feeling fills your soul, a mixture of wistfulness, nostalgia, and yearning. You've been to Starsnatch Cliff once before, but never like this. This is the cliff in another time other than your own. So why is it that you can feel the breeze caressing your cheek, the solid presence of someone beside you, their velvet touch against your skin?

You snap out of your reverie just in time to realize that you had a hand outstretched as if you were going to touch the canvas. You look around to catch the disapproving look from the security guard nearby and quickly retract your hand, your cheeks flaming in shame.

You walk away, and that unexplainable feeling becomes nothing more than dew sliding off a leaf.

That night, a young man wanders discreetly through the gallery, his eyes as blue as the waters of Cider Lake sweeping over each artwork before halting at a particular one.

He gazes at the painting of the lovers on Starsnatch Cliff, and only those observant enough would be able to understand the look in his eyes.

───── ⋆⋅✨⋅⋆ ─────

The creature had everything anyone could ever desire for. Respect from his colleague, power, talent, friends, family, even love. Oh, how he trembled when he realized that this molded heart of his could be capable of such a flighty and ferocious emotion.

How tangible he must have felt, how corporeal and human to be able to taste the fruits of love. He thought he had risen above his shameful origins and was worthy to stand by his lover.

Oh, how the gods anticipated his eventual fall from grace.

It's the perfect day for a stroll in the park, and you congratulate yourself for dragging your body out of bed and enjoy the weather for a little bit, even when your plans for the evening consist of binge-watching your favorite shows and ordering takeout. Ah well, no shame in that.

You're walking along the lake when you feel something crashing into you. You're preparing to chastise them when you realized that the person is only a child, a blonde girl wearing a red dress adorned with clover patterns whose height only manages to hit your upper thighs. Tears rim her eyes, and she has a panicked look on her face.

"What's wrong, are you lost?"

"Klee can't find her mom anywhere! I wanted to see the ducks so I turned away from her for a moment and now I don't know where she is!" She lets out in a ramble.

"Ok," you gently take a hold of her shoulders. "I need you to calm down for me, Klee. We'll find your mom together."

"R-really?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "I promise. Can you describe her to me?"

"M-mom has blonde hair like me, and she's wearing a red dress today so we can match! She's also tall, and very pretty!"

You nod and look down at her dress. Let's hope that there's not a lot of blonde women wearing red dresses with clover patterns in the park today. "Ok, let's go find her."

You let the little girl take your hand and slowly lead her through the park, eyes peeled for the woman fitting the description. You decided to go towards the security booth, thinking that if a panicked parent just lost their child, that would probably be the first place they go to.

Along the way, you get to talking with Klee to ease her worries, asking about her family and listening to her stories about Dodoco (her early interest in chemistry and bomb-making is a bit concerning, but you attribute that to childhood curiosities.)

"You remind me of my brother!"

"Hm? I do?"

She nods enthusiastically, her previous worry seeming to have lessened. "Big brother is also very kind, and he always look after me. Even when he's busy with work, he would find time to play with me."

"Sounds like a good brother."

"He is! I love him very much!"

Thankfully, true to your guess, when you arrive near the booth, there's a hassled woman fitting the description talking to the security guy., waving her arms around frantically.

"Mama!" Klee exclaims and leaves your side to run to her. At the shout, the woman turns around, her eyes brightening in relief.

"Klee!" She springs her arms open to hug the girl. "Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you!"

"I'm sorry," Klee hangs her head guiltily. "I just wanted to look at some ducks."

The woman's shoulders sag. "Oh well, that's alright my little clover. You're here now. Are you okay?"

"Mhmm! I had some help!" Klee gestures to you, still standing there to see the reunion. The woman locks her eyes with yours, and to your surprise, a quick flash of recognition goes through them. She looks at you stiffly, eyebrows furrowed and her mouth almost hanging open.

But she recovers only a second later. "Thank you for helping my Klee."

"It's nothing." You wave a hand. "I'm glad I was able to help."

She nods, and the movement seemed tense. "Come on Klee, say goodbye to the nice person."

"Bye bye!"

"Bye Klee, bye Dodoco."

The woman looks as if though she wants to say something more, but at the last minute she turns away, and offers nothing else than a wave goodbye.

───── ⋆⋅✨⋅⋆ ─────

His fate may not be written by their hands, but his lover was not immune to the whims of destiny.

How cruel it must have been to see a life taken so prematurely, when there was still so much potential and purpose left. How distraught the alchemist was when he witnessed the lifeless body of his lover, how he had begged and pleaded and prayed to the gods he never truly believed in.

They were anticipating this moment, and his next action was one that would seal their paths forever.

"False creation, your attempt at tampering with the natural order of this world to revive a human corpse to life has left us no choice but to intervene. Their soul is no longer of this world, and it is not your right to tether them back to a husk. We cannot ignore this transgression, nor can we let it go unpunished. While everything in this world live and die, you cannot age nor die. Enjoy your immortality, homunculus, and know that you will never be reunited with your love. No matter how many ages past, no matter how many times they reincarnate, no matter if civilizations rise or fall, your paths will never cross again. Heed our words, homunculus. Heed them...or reap the consequences."

You're speedwalking on the sidewalk, silently hoping that you'll make it in time for your appointment. You weave through the streets towards the tracks, the pedestrian light ahead letting you know that a tram will be making its way through soon. You speed up, but the moment your feet makes contact with the tram tracks, you turn to meet the sparkling teal eyes of a young man, his pale blond hair brushing his shoulders, strands pulled back into a half-ponytail to reveal ethereal and delicate features that takes your breath away.

How does one measure a moment when it seems to last forever? You're confident that you're still moving, and yet your feet seem to anchor itself to the ground, trapping yourself in this one instance and refusing to let you go. Everything that is once concrete fizzles out until your surroundings become nothing but dust. There's nothing but you and this man that you've never seen before.

Then why is it that deep inside you feel something call out to you? Why is it that goosebumps rise to your skin and ears buzzed and something creaks in your mind like an abandoned cabinet finally being opened?

Why is he gazing at you with so much tenderness and sadness?

The moment passes. You emerge on the other side safely, the tram blocking your sight entirely. You find yourself lingering for a few seconds, as if seeing if you can catch another look at that mysterious person. The fleeting desire is broken when you take a glance at your phone, horrified to know that you only have a few minutes left.

You dash off, all thoughts of that beautiful man seemingly lost to you.

───── ⋆⋅✨⋅⋆ ─────

Albedo watches as the tram pass, and to his disappointment there is no sign of you on that other side.

He had anticipated this. The gods have kept vigilant to their words for thousands of years, never letting up in their promise to never let him see you ever again. But this slip of theirs...how interesting.

He had seen it in your eyes, he knows that deep down your soul still recognizes him, even when a fog encases your heart and mind. This gives him some hope yet, that those deities up above are not all-powerful and omnipresent.

He turns away, his footsteps clacking against the sidewalk as he thinks about his next move.

He will find their weakness, topple them from their heavenly thrones with his bare hands, and reweave the strands of fate.

After all, Albedo has nothing but time and patience.

[plutonianeris]

❝mars in the 6th house❞

This is how mars in the 6th house has manifested for me.

With my 6th house mars placement I tend to make my daily activities into games or challenges. In my head I’m always like okay let’s see how long it takes me to do xyz. It makes me feel accomplished to get stuff down.

The downside to all of that is the stress I put on my body. Sometimes I don’t know when to stop and I keep pushing through until I feel burned out. Over the years I have gotten better and reminding myself to slow down and be more mindful throughout out the day.

I have always had very high paced busy jobs. The couple times where I had a more low stakes, relaxed job I would start off thinking I was going to enjoy it and then I would hate it. It would just make the day drag on so long. I like feeling challenged and when I am busy the day goes by faster. When I was around 15 I got my first job at a restaurant and it would get extremely busy and chaotic as fuck and honestly I loved it. The dining room would get so full, people were chattering all the time and we would all be in the back running around like chickens with their heads cut off, bumping into each other. Some of my coworkers would get frustrated which is fair but honestly it felt like a game to me. I worked there until I was 19. I have a higher paying, more “professional” job now but to this day that was the most fun job I’ve had.

I have worked at many different places, but the posts that state mars in the 6th house will give you coworkers being jealous and trying to start shit are 100% right. In every job I have had there were coworkers that saw me as threat or would try to start shit with me. I once worked at a hospital when I was in college and the girls working with me (Who were 2-3 years actually older than me) were so hateful and weird. They would constantly be looking at me, gossiping (or straight up trying to argue) and one time one of them lied to the supervisor saying I was slacking off when I wasn’t (literally trying to sabotage my job).

A male coworker there at the time told me they were just hating. I do believe that they were because they were being weird and messy but I also think he was trying to flirt with me..

The rumors are true about your coworkers crushing on you with this placement. And vice versa for me as well at times. It has gone from flirting with coworkers to me actually sleeping with a coworker once. However those times it was never anything serious, more like in the moment things. 6th house placements really know what it means to have a work husband/ wife lol.

another thing about jobs, when people try to start shit it use to get me riled up and I would let people get under my skin (when I was younger). NOW, I laugh and even though it still makes me annoyed, it makes me feel even more motivated to be the best at what I am doing.

I am also quick to leave a job once it has run its course. I am not that emotional when it comes to leaving and starting over somewhere else.

I lose weight very fast. I don’t mean in the sense that I have high metabolism. I mean that if gain weight and I decide I want to lose it, I do simple workouts and in a relatively short time its gone. Its not an unhealthy or harmful way. It makes sense considering mars is action and speed and the 6th house is daily routines and my body and health. Honestly if you have this placement and you are stressing over meal plans or planning specific workouts, just do simple ones and walk more and it wont be as hard as you thought.

I do have a high libido, especially when I am in a relationship. Having a healthy and satisfying sexual relationship is important to me.

I don’t get sick very often and when I do, I fight it off in 1-3 days.

I can be very impulsive in my daily and routines, sometimes harshly. Like I might brush my hair very roughly without realizing or apply lotion onto my skin in a heedless manner. That is something that I did not like and I try to remind myself to treat my body with gentle hands.

My impulsive behavior was worse when I was kid. For example, if I could not get a necklace off of me or bracelet, it would make me so angry and kind of panicked, I would rip it off even if it meant it might break I didn’t care. Me doing what I wanted and feeling free mattered more than whatever I was wearing. This was however another thing I tried to improve on.

Growing up, in my daily routines people use to be mad aggressive towards me as well. Don’t get me wrong, I knew when I was annoying or pushing someones buttons, but the random spurts of anger at me would be very unwarranted.

I feel like at times I can be very guarded as well or tense. When I am angry, I feel it first in my chest and then my stomach will hurt. I don’t like getting worked up because although I can emotionally regulate, it still takes my body a while to calm down. When I was a teenager it would take a long ass time of me practically seething or cursing. Now after a couple deep breaths I’m good.

Mars is aggressive and the 6th house is my health and body and I have definitely taken my anger out on myself as well. My home life had always been very chaotic as a kid and I started self harming at 12 years old and then I stopped when I was around 17 years old.

On a more positive note, I love taking care of my body now. I would never treat it like my enemy or be so careless with myself like I use to. I like working out. I like feeling strong. And also theres a bonus of feeling hot as fuck when I am naked. When Megan thee stallion said, “ When I'm in the gym I think about bitches that I'm shitting on,” I really felt that 💋🔥