#if I had her coworkers… I’d be making those faces too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

hey! I really really really like your writing very much!

can you do one where the reader and spencer reid are both nerds but different kinds of nerds. so the reader's more of a literature/ language nerd and spencer's basically an expert in LITERALLY everything. so she has a major crush on him but always hesitates to make a move on him cuz she thinks that she doesn't stand a chance because she struggles with basic math and physics chemistry make her head hurt

and so when spencer asks her out she's all baffled like you don't think I'm dumb?!😭😭

Hi, thanks honey!

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

It’s one of those rare days where you can actually afford a lunch break, and you’ve decided to take it outside with your book. Every day lately feels like it could be the last nice one you get before the cold weather comes in, and you’re enjoying the crisp breeze and warm sunshine on your face as you get settled on the bench outside the cafe where you work.

The book you’ve been reading for the past week is good but not great, and you’re sort of pushing yourself to finish just so you can say it’s over with and tell the friend who lent it that you gave it your best. Still, you’re very nearly lost in it by the time a pair of black converse comes to a stop in front of you.

You follow them upward. “Spencer!” you say, probably with a touch too much alacrity. Too quickly, too. You might’ve at least pretended to have to think about the name of the sweet-faced doctor looking down at you. But it’s not your fault; you’ve gotten used to calling it out from the counter when he comes here to pick up his lunch at least three days out of the week.

“Hi,” he says, teetering on the edge of bashful. “I’m surprised to see you out here, you’re almost always working when I come by.”

It’s embarrassingly gratifying that he knows that. You’d never hold it against him if he didn’t, but you’ve come to enjoy the little bits of conversation you grab with him when he comes by, and it’s nice to know that he’s noticed you too.

“It’s a slow day,” you reply by way of explanation. “I figured I’d grab a break while I still could.”

Spencer smiles like he totally gets that. You imagine he does. “Good idea. Can I sit?”

“Of course!” Again, way too eager. You’ve got to work on controlling your tone around him. You move your discarded jacket into your lap.

“Thanks,” he says, sitting in the space you’ve made for him. His legs are so long he looks like he’s squatting on the bench, knees high enough for him to set his elbows on. Which he does, tilting his head to see you. “What’re you reading?”

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. I mean, I wouldn’t really recommend it,” you laugh. Christ, you don’t want him to know what you’re reading. Spencer probably reads astrophysics textbooks for fun. “It’s not very good.”

Spencer puts his hand over yours, far from forceful as he tips the page toward him until he can see the cover. Your brain is short-circuiting so badly it’s a wonder you don’t drop the paperback onto the pavement.

“I haven’t heard of it,” he says, which surprises you. Spencer seems so knowledgeable it’s difficult to believe there’s anything in existence that’s not stored somewhere in his hard drive. “Why are you reading it if you don’t think it’s good?”

He doesn’t ask it in any unkind or judgemental way, but something inside you tenses nonetheless. You know perhaps too much about Spencer Reid. It’s not like you’d gone out of your way to figure him out, but the facts had presented themselves to you almost serendipitously and you’d put the pieces together. You know that he’s in the FBI, not only because of the laminated identifier he sometimes leaves clipped to his shirtpocket when he comes in, but also because of the coworkers that occasionally come with him. From those coworkers, you also know that he’s a doctor, and you gather that he’s generally respected and admired as well as cared for by his team. He seems a bit awkward, but sure of himself where it matters, and he goes into every interaction with a kind curiosity. Most of all, you know that Spencer is smart. Like, expert in everything smart. You’d caught a few jokes from the people he’s brought in about an eidetic memory, his multiple PhDs, and the nickname “boy genius.” No matter how shy and sweet someone is, that’s intimidating.

And it’s unnerving to have someone with an IQ higher than you can probably fathom asking about your intellectual habits.

“Well, the plot doesn’t actually have much movement, so it’s pretty boring,” you say hesitantly. “I guess at this point I’m mostly in it for the prose. Plus my friend recommended it, so I have to finish it to keep her happy.”

Spencer laughs at your little joke, nodding. “Wow, the prose alone is enough to keep you going? It must be pretty fascinating.”

You want to backpedal immediately, but settle for a one-shouldered shrug. “It’s alright. I’m kind of a nerd for that stuff. Rhetorical devices and all.”

Spencer tilts his head, something igniting in his brown eyes. Interest. “Rhetorical devices. You mean like metaphor and personification?”

You nod. “Yeah, like those, but also anadiplosis and polysyndeton and anastrophe.” Spencer’s eyebrows move slowly upward as you speak, and you feel heat rising to your cheeks despite the slight chill. “I just like that there’s things that affect the emotion—or the pacing, or whatever—of writing that we as readers pick up on almost subconsciously, but were so intentional for the writer.”

Spencer’s nodding, eyes going somewhere just slightly distant. “Yeah, that’s a good point. I mean, I know writing is a very intentional process, but I never really think about the tiny, word-level decisions authors make to influence readers.”

“It’s so cool,” you agree. “Like, how long do you think it takes someone to land on the exact right word for what they’re trying to convey, or to structure their sentences in a way that builds momentum over the course of a paragraph? Like, so much goes into it.”

Spencer’s smiling at you, and you realize you’re gushing, geeky zeal bursting out of you like a soda bottle that’s been shaken and finally uncapped. “Sorry. Um, what’re you reading lately?”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says quickly, still smiling at you. “I actually just finished my last book, so I’m looking for something new. If this book has all that and isn’t up to your standards, I’d be interested to see what you really enjoy reading.”

Your cheeks are burning hot; you hope Spencer thinks the redness is from the cool breeze. “I’d be nervous to give you a recommendation,” you admit. “Too much pressure.”

Spencer waves you off. “I’ll read anything, don’t worry about it. Hey, have you ever been to that coffee shop on fifth? It’s in a bookstore.”

You blink. “No, I haven’t heard of it. That sounds cool, though.”

A bit of pink tinges Spencer’s cheeks; it’s probably from the cool breeze. “Yeah, well, you should let me take you there sometime. If you want, of course,” he adds hastily. “Don’t worry about it if not.”

It takes you a second to realize what’s happening. And then once you do, another second to make yourself believe it. “Like, as a date?” you ask, just to be sure.

Spencer’s smile is hopeful behind its timidity. “Yeah. Yeah, if you’re okay with that.”

“Yeah.” You can’t think of anything better to say, your brain filling with buzzing bees. “That sounds good. Thanks.”

He laughs, eyebrows coming together bemusedly. “Well, don’t thank me. I should be thanking you.”

It’s more a thanks for his taking action, you think. For making a move when you’d been too scared to, stagnant with months over your anxiety that he’d think you were too dumb or trivial to want to keep talking to you after he’d picked up his sandwich.

“Okay, great.” He stands. “Well, I have to get back, but I’ll, uh…I’ll see you? Friday, maybe? I can come by here after your shift.”

“You know when my shift ends?”

Now even his ears are turning red. “You…around four, right? I sometimes see you if I’m leaving work around then.”

You smile. “Yeah, four. See you then, Dr. Reid.”

“See you then!” he turns around, and you can see the exact moment he thinks to wonder how you know his last name. You don’t bother worrying about it.

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luveline · 28 days

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Babe congrats on quitting!!!

I live coworker!James sm he is so lovely and i cant heló bit asking for more

R having a bad day and James doent know until he teeases her and she just like opens up to James a bit more?

thank you!!

You can’t escape Remus’ sweet questions of concern, though he’s tactful. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Remus asks, James a haunting somewhere near the customer complaints desk.

“I’m fine.”

“You really don’t wanna come to dinner with me?”

It’s a nice offer, but Remus is part of a package deal, and he’s the only one of the three who isn’t exhausting; Remus’ boyfriend Sirius is well meaning but so beautiful and so alarmingly aware of it, while James is all those things too, but much less subtle about it. “I’m too tired for the walking, thank you. I’m just gonna stay here and eat my sandwich in slow bites.”

Remus laughs, wrapping his scarf tight around his neck. He doesn’t tuck it under his coat. Sirius will do that for him. It’s heartbreaking to see every day, a reminder of real love in the world that will seemingly never touch you, but it’s cute too.

James rockets back to his desk. He’s always in a hurry. Half-frantic, he pulls his rucksack from under his desk and unzips the main body. To your horror, he unveils a large Tupperware of white rice, asparagus, and what looks to be chicken thighs. Next comes his portable knife fork.

He notices your watching. “It’s just rice and chicken,” he says defensively.

“No, I’m not–” You shake your head. “Not about what you’re eating. Eat what you want, James.”

“Don’t I always?” he asks. “Not about what I’m eating. Your general look of disgust and disdain is to do with something else, then. Did you accidentally look in the ladies bathroom mirror again?”

“It’s nothing.”

James tucks his chair in, face paused, hands hesitating at the sides of his dinner and then flat to the desk. “Hey, is something wrong?”

Maybe his comment before struck a nerve. Maybe you’re having a terrible day, and everything’s piling up, and you can’t be expected to keep in your feelings forever. Or maybe you’re dumb. “Guess I did look too long in the mirror,” you say.

“You’re upset?” he asks, startled.

You shake your head vehemently. Slow. “I’m just having a bad day.”

“What happened?”

You stare at him for a moment, take in the concerned twitch of his brows as they pull down and in, the set of his nice mouth, remarking to yourself on how the snarky sarcasm erases itself from his expression so quickly, leaving behind a boy with a very sweet face.

His hand curls into a loose fist. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I don’t know if you ever get this, but sometimes I,” —your face goes white hot suddenly, an acknowledgment of the powers over you you’re giving him in needing reassurance— “look at myself and I feel a bit off. And I thought if I had lunch by myself I’d have time to not be looked at? Um. Which is why I was unhappy. Not because of you.” You frown at him. “You do make me unhappy, though.”

He pretends to laugh at your weak insult, which is generous. “So you actually did get upset looking in the mirror? Shortcake, I was kidding about that, it's not like it makes any sense.”

You frown at one another. “Why not?”

“Because you’re nothing worth being upset over?” James suggests. “You’re pretty. You know you’re pretty.” He points at you with his fork. “You do know?”

“No,” you mumble.

“I’m not telling you again,” he says, looking strangely as though he’d quite like to tell you again.

“I’m consistently below average.”

“Where? Do you have an address? I must go to this place where you’re the standard.”

Something weird and queasy summons to life in your chest, before levelling into a surprising pleasure. That was definitely a compliment, and from James, though annoying he might be, it means a lot. He’s outrageously good looking, after all, and especially when he smiles, which is nearly constant. He’s smiling now with the fondness of someone who knows you better than he actually does.

He ruins it rolling his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Which I’ve come to expect!” he says, sliding a thumb under the clasp of his Tupperware. “Why would you think you’re not lovely? To look at, that is. You’re a huge pain otherwise.”

“That’s uncharacteristically mean, even for you.”

“I’m balancing it out. Want some asparagus?”

You excuse yourself for a quick trip to the bathroom, where you mouth questions at your reflection of the puzzled variety. Has James been replaced by a body snatcher? Or are you finally seeing the version of him everybody else in the office seems to know?

When you get back to your desk, your figurines have been upended by a ‘freak earthquake’. He’s back to normal.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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willaferrreyra · 9 months

Text

first date movies — neil lewis x reader

word count: 2.9k (oops this was….way longer than i thought)

contains: SMUT (18+ ONLY) —> fingering, oral (m receiving), public indecency (getting it on in a movie theater because…it’s neil), fluff, happy ending!

you have a crush on your coworker and you really wish you didn’t.

note: this has not been proofread so place excuse any typos! i hope you enjoy especially since this is my first smut fic on this account which is insane. also all of the movies referenced are some of my favorites so…..i’d absolutely recommend them if you haven’t seen them already! neil is my silly little movie buff husband and i’d absolutely LOVE to write for him again so please leave some feedback if you’d like more!

cillian taglist: @mortylover

As you stood on a step stool, shelving new video arrivals, you could hear Ingrid Bergman's lovely Swedish accent behind you.

Notorious. You'd seen it a million times but you'd never gotten sick of it. It was your favorite Hitchcock and often the movie you'd throw on if you were in need of comfort. Although it was your turn to pick what everyone watched at the video store today, you weren't sitting with everyone else on the big worn out sofa. You preferred to shelve and enjoy the sound of the movies in the background (maybe walking over when your favorite scene was on). After all, someone needed to help the customers even if you didn't have many.

You had an annoying habit of reciting movie lines that you loved, as did Neil, the owner of the store and one of your closest friends.

"This is a very strange love affair," you said with Ingrid as you placed Valley of the Dolls in its right place.

"Why?" Neil said right along with Cary Grant, glancing over at you.

"Maybe the fact that you don't love me," you shot him a dramatic look, trying to do your best Ingrid Bergman impression.

"Your Bergman should be better for someone who's seen this movie more times than she can count," he said.

You rolled your eyes.

"She's got a unique accent! Plus it's very transatlantic. That's hard."

"She can do the Fargo accent," your other coworker Jonathan pointed out, not bothering to look up from the TV.

"Oh, you betcha," you grinned, nailing the unmistakable Minnesotan "o" sound.

"That's not hard!" Neil protested.

"It's not easy!"

The doors jingled as your best friend walked through the door, cutting the discussion about accents short. Before you could even say anything she already had a request.

"First date movie. Help."

You thought for a minute.

"Well what's the person like?"

"I don't know! I haven't met him yet. This is a blind setup by a coworker thing."

"Do you....think you'll be paying attention to the movie?"

She made a face.

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"Not necessarily! You could be....talking."

After many failed dates with guys who were into film, you understood the complexities of picking the first date movie. It said a lot about a person — what they're into, how they feel, who they aspire to be. But at the end of the day, it needs to be something that can transition to being background noise for a good make out session while still being enjoyable. Very few movies check all of those boxes.

"Just don't give me anything too complicated, okay?" she sighed. "No Lynch. No Cronenberg."

You fake frowned. "I was just gonna rent Crash and Lost Highway to you as a double feature."

She shuddered as she remembered the horror that was watching both of those films. You could stomach things like that but she absolutely couldn't.

"Okay, sit tight. I have a thought," you said as you ran over to the romances.

Your friend wandered over to the TV while you hunted for her perfect first date movie.

"Hey guys," she said monotonously.

"Hey," they replied equally unenthused.

She stood and watched the movie for a minute before you came back holding Moonstruck.

"Cher. Nic Cage. Romantic. Easy to follow. It checks every box!"

"That's your idea of a first date movie?" Neil scoffed.

"What's yours? The Seventh Seal?" you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, that's why Denise broke up with him," Jonathan replied.

"What? You didn't tell me that!"

"Well it kind of just happened," he said. "And to be honest I'm not so broken up about it."

After knowing Neil a while, you knew that he wasn't one for consistent steady girlfriends. Denise lasted longer than most, but in the end he always seemed to get bored. Sure, he got around to an extent, but it was hard for you to picture Neil Lewis truly settling down. Unless, of course, you pictured him with you — but you tried not to do that. The thought popped into your brain every once in a while but you pushed it out as soon as it arrived. You knew you'd only end up getting hurt.

"Okay, well that's good because I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies tonight. I mean, I'm all for a good ol' post breakup pity party but I'd much rather go see The Thing on the big screen tonight."

You and Neil did your part to keep your local independent theater in business more than anyone else in town. It was a regular thing for the two of you to go see at least two movies a week, sometimes more. Sometimes Jonathan and Lucien would tag along and sometimes it was just the two of you — every time you secretly hoped that it would be just the two of you.

"Now that's a good first date movie," Jonathan said.

"The Thing for a first date?" you scrunched your nose into a face of disapproval. "You guys have no taste."

"Well good thing we're not going on a first date then," Neil said. "But yeah, I'll go with you, I'm not doing anything else. Wanna grab dinner and go straight there?"

Those words shouldn't have been such a dagger to you but they were. No shit, this wasn't a first date. He didn't need to remind you.

"Yeah, that's fine," you said, trying to mask the disappointment in your voice. "I just have a few more things to finish up here and then we can head out."

You helped your friend rent her movie and finished up your shelving duties with a little less pep in your step than usual as Neil's words played over and over again in your mind like a broken record.

Good thing we're not going on a first date then. Fuck him. It's not like he was trying to hurt you, after all he didn't know that you maybe kinda sorta liked him. But those words.....you just couldn't take your mind off of them as you mentally prepared yourself for your very clearly stated non-date.

—

A little diner by the local theater had been your spot with Neil for as long as you'd been coworkers. It had become a tradition of yours to sneak in mini bottles of booze to pour into the milkshakes, either on celebratory or wallowing in your sorrows occasions. Neil's breakup felt like a good excuse to give your shared vanilla shake deserved an extra kick, even if you were the one who really needed it.

"Is anyone looking?"

He shook his head as you poured the vodka into the glass, stirring the concoction with the straw. You didn't wait for Neil before placing your lips to the straw and downing a quarter of it all at once.

"Hey, take it easy. I thought I was the one who needed the alcohol tonight," he chuckled.

"You said it yourself, you're not upset about Denise," you said, the irritation in your voice shining through.

"Are you upset about something, then? I'm sorry I didn't really help you shelve today, I just- you know, you like to do that stuff by yourself sometimes. And you picked such a good movie I couldn't tear myself away from the screen."

It would've been easier if you had really been upset about that. You wished that you were upset about that And now half the shake was gone, everything you wanted to say was rushing to your head, and you didn't even think about what you were doing when you blurted out:

"Why can't this be a first date?"

His eyes widened as he let out a small chuckle, assuming you were kidding.

"What?"

"You heard me. Why can't this be a first date?"

As he stared back at you, you felt like you had just fucked everything up. This amazing friendship was just ruined now because you drank your boozy milkshake too fast.

"Do....do you want it to be?" he asked.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed before burying your head in your hands. "Forget I said anything. I-I drank that too fast."

"No, I....we can call this a date if you want. In fact I'd really like that."

He wasn't trying to humor you and he wasn't trying to make the situation better by saying something that he didn't mean — he was dead serious.

"Neil, don't say that if you don't mean it," you sighed. "I'm just....upset today. Don't listen to me."

He studied your face for a minute before speaking again.

"Do you remember when I interviewed you for your job?"

"Now what does that have to do with anything?"

You did, in fact, remember your Gumshoe interview very well. You had asked him if he'd ever considered doing a film noir themed commercial for the store and you'd never seen someone so excited about an idea before — you always assumed that was why you had gotten the job.

"I knew you before that, you know," he said. "I remembered you from when you used to be a customer. There was actually this one time when you had an overdue fee and I paid it for you and told the guys that I had lost the tape."

This made you smile a bit.

"Point being?"

He took a deep breath before he continued on.

"Normally when we do the interview process, we ask the same shit, you know? What's your favorite movie? Who's your favorite director? And I asked you that stuff even though I thought I already knew the answers, I remembered what you used to rent. I thought I knew you so well and then you just went totally fucking wildcard on me — and I loved it. Ever since then you've kept on surprising me and I....well, I really like that. I guess what I'm trying to say is I really like you. And I think I always have."

You stared at him wide-eyed. You had not expected your little drunken tantrum to get you a confession of feelings.

"Neil....do you know why I rented from Gumshoe all the time? I mean, I'm all for supporting the little guys, but I really went in to see you. And then I got this job and I got to know you and you weren't just the cute guy at the video store anymore, you were like....my cute friend/boss technically but I won't get into that. But I got to know you and I watched you go through all of these relationships because you get bored eventually and....I just think you might get bored with me. I'm no Katharine Ross in Butch and Sundance."

He shook his head as a smile crept across his lips.

"No, you're even more exciting than that. You're like...Barbarella or something. Queen of the galaxy."

"Barbarella's whole thing was sex appeal," you point out. "That's the whole movie."

"Sex appeal, sure. But she's also kind and interesting and witty. You've got all of that."

You took all of that as a compliment but you found yourself blushing at his mention of sex appeal.

—

When you arrived to the movie theater after finishing your meal, it seemed that you two were the only ones dying to see a John Carpenter flick on a Tuesday evening. You had your pick of seats in the empty theater.

Your non-date turned date couldn't have been going better, honestly, it made you think that you should turn to drinking more often. It fixed this problem miraculously well.

As you settled into your seats and the lights dimmed, it was clear that both of you wanted to make a move but didn't know how to do it. After all, you couldn't just go straight for unzipping his fly. Or could you? Tonight was all about confidence and he clearly liked it when you kept him on his toes. You decided to start slow, resting a hand on his thigh, letting your hand wander from there.

He looked over at you as you made contact with the bulge in his jeans. It was hard to read his expression in the dark, but you could feel that he didn't want you to stop.

"Are we really gonna do this here?" he whispered.

"We've both seen this a thousand times, I think it'll be okay if we get a little distracted," you whisper back. "U-unless you don't want—"

He cut you off with a kiss that was a long time coming. You were surprised by the sheer force of it as your tongues collided. His hand reached up to cup the side of your face as you melted into the kiss, illuminated by the glow of the silver screen. He made you feel dizzy, but in a good way.

Now, you had never been intimate in a movie theater before, but it was even more exhilarating than you could’ve imagined. As you slowly unzipped his fly, taking his length out of his jeans, you noticed that Neil wasn’t watching the movie at all. His eyes were completely focused on you.

“You’re really taking your time, aren’t you?” he whispered. He was rock hard already and you could tell that he was getting incredibly impatient. You held the base of him while you teased his tip with your tongue. Whatever composure he thought he had went out the window as he his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Based on his breathing patterns you thought he was going to come right then.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath. “Just….just like that.”

You could feel him trembling as your tongue continued to work its swirly magic. Eventually you began to take him in your mouth completely, greeting him with the warm sensation of the back of your throat. He groaned out your name in a raspy whisper as you bobbed your head on his length. Before you knew it, you could feel a hand on your head guiding it along — his touch felt so intimate and loving, you couldn’t get enough.

“I-I’m close….I’m— fuck….I’m gonna—“

Before he could finish what he was going to say, you could feel his come coat the back of your throat. It was a warm, welcome feeling and you couldn’t wait to feel it again.

“Jesus christ,” he sat there catching his breath before turning to you. “That was….wow. You’re just…..I-Incredible.”

You smiled at the praise. It wasn’t even day that you were complimented on your blowjob skills.

Your head made its way to his shoulder as you sat side by side watching the movie. His hand began on your though but slowly because to creep it’s way up between your legs.

“Returning the favor?” you whispered, smiling softly as you glanced in his direction.

He nodded, speaking in a sultry whisper that nearly made your legs shake. “You know, you just made me feel so good….it would be a crime not to reciprocate it, don’t you think?”

You continued to rest your head on his shoulder as he slipped two fingers inside of you. You couldn’t help but notice how easily they went in — you had been soaked for hours.

“All this for me?” he chuckled. “How long have you been like this?”

“All night,” you said in between heavy breaths. “I-I’m always like this around you, Neil.”

“No way, are you really?”

His switch up from the sultry whisper to his excited tone made you giggle.

“I have….a tendency to daydream about you when I’m around you,” you explained.

His fingers found just the right spot as he continued to question you. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to talk.

“Daydream about what specifically?”

A small whimper escaped your mouth as his fingers curled inside of you. You couldn’t even recall what you used to daydream about until it hit you.

“This…..this exact moment. I-I’ve….fuck….Ive daydreamed about this a m-million times.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked as he started to pump his fingers faster. “And how does it end?”

“I- Neil- I’m gonna—“

“How does it end, sweet girl? Tell me.”

You could barely even answer in between heavy breaths but you managed to speak up, your words intertwined with your moans.

“Y-you make….you make me come, N-Neil! I’m….right now, I’m—“

“Show me. Come for me. Show me how the daydream ends.”

And you did, trying your best to keep quiet as you came undone. You buried your face into his shoulder as you whimpered and throbbed against his fingers.

“Good girl,” he exhaled. “That’s a good girl.”

—

The next day at work, you and Neil debated what you should tell the others. To announce the relationship or keep it a secret was a heavily debated topic, but you eventually settled on keeping it to yourselves for a while before revealing it. You thought it would be nice to have something that was just yours for a while. Plus, hiding a relationship can be incredibly sexy.

As you walked into Gumshoe, you flashed a quick smile at Neil who was in his usual spot behind the counter before taking your place at the shelf.

“Hey, Jonathan,” you called over to the couch, getting his attention. “I was totally wrong. Upon my rewatch, I think that The Thing would be a great first date movie.”

“See, I told you! I told you and you never fucking listen to me,” he said. “What made you change your mind?”

You glanced over at Neil one more time. It was clear that he was thinking about last night just as much as you were.

“I don’t know…” you shrugged. “Maybe it’s Kurt Russell.”

#cillian murphy x reader #neil lewis x reader #cillian murphy smut #I HOPE YOU ENJOY MY DARLINGS!! mwah!!!

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marlynnofmany · 4 months

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Singing and Other Noises

If you have to clean the bathroom on a multi-species spaceship, you can at least take the opportunity to annoy your coworkers with some high volume space shanties. The acoustics of most bathrooms I’ve been in are great, and this one was no exception.

“If you find snacks in high places, adhesive eyes making faces…” I sang, passing the sanitation wand over the floor. “Someone gives thanks to the void, and knives to the droid … Then you might have some humans onboard, onboard, you might have some humans onboard!”

Paint laughed in the hallway. “I don’t think anyone would miss the fact that we have a human onboard.” When I leaned out to grin at her, she continued, “You’re very loud.”

“This is the perfect place to sing!” I said, leaning back and switching to a different song. “You’ll hear us singing loud and proud, in halls and hulls and ventilation chutes. You’ll know us by our range and joy, and we sing better than you!” It echoed nicely.

Paint was shaking her lizardy head. “Are there any quiet human songs?”

“Oh sure,” I said, looking for spots I’d missed. “Calm melodies for a relaxing afternoon, lullabies to soothe babies to sleep, plenty of those. They’re just not as fun. I like the ones where you can really feel your lungs vibrate, you know?”

Paint was giving me that cocked-head look that said she wasn’t entirely sure what I was talking about, but didn’t feel like saying so. “Right. I think that one made the floor vibrate too.”

“Oh, you should meet an opera singer. They can shatter glass.”

“What!” Paint stepped closer, switching her tail. “You are making that up.”

“No, really!” I said. “It’s very impressive. A rare talent for sure.” I got to my feet and emptied the sanitation wand into the trash chute. “My voice is nothing special. Pretty good, I like to think, but no kind of superstar. Still, singing is fun.”

Paint seemed to be having trouble coming up with a compliment. “Your voice is very… clear? Low? Is that a good thing?”

“I like to think so.” I put the wand away and washed my hands. “I can sing the low notes easier than high, which is great, because I enjoy them more. I think that makes me an alto? Contralto? Something like that. Not a soprano, at any rate.”

Even with her orange scales, Paint’s expression was a distinct mask of polite blankness. She nodded, hands clasped together.

“Not much for singing, I take it?” I asked.

Paint exhaled and dropped her hands. “I just don’t see the appeal,” she admitted. “It’s only talking! In a distorted voice!”

I switched off the light and joined her in the hall with a head bob of agreement. “Yeah, I suppose it is. Some of it’s fast and good to dance to, though.”

She pointed at me in excitement. “The dancing does make sense! That’s fun! But I just cannot understand the noises that go with it.”

I shrugged. “Eh, don’t worry too much about it. There’s bound to be lots of things that any given species does that makes no sense to others.”

“Like those shiny rocks you insisted on keeping?”

“Hey, that’s not just me,” I protested. “Zhee and Trrili both wanted some too. And you’ve still got those smelly seed-things that you liked so much.”

Paint raised her snout in pride. “They remain beautiful. Coals, Eggskin, and Captain Sunlight will agree with me!”

“And those are all the Heatseekers on the ship, which is exactly my point.”

A high-pitched noise that I’d been barely aware of grew louder, drifting down the hallway all faint and screechy. I had no idea what it was, and judging by Paint’s expression, neither did she.

“Is that metal scraping?” I wondered.

“I don’t think so,” Paint said.

The sound continued, changing in tone like an alien violin. I turned in place, trying to locate it. “Is that music?”

Paint rubbed her earhole. “It’s unpleasant.”

“C’mon, let’s make sure it’s not actually a problem of some kind.”

“Yes,” Paint said with a sigh. “Ignoring a mechanical failure because we passed it off as horrible music is not something I want on my record.”

I started off down the hallway. “I think it’s this way.”

Ready as I was for a long and mysterious hunt for the quiet shrieking, I was almost disappointed to find it coming from the third door we reached. This was the door to Coals and Trrili’s translation workroom. It was shut. I hesitated over the opening panel, then knocked instead.

The noise stopped.

When the door slid open, it was to a vision of exoskeletoned nightmares, shiny black and red, with pincher arms, mandibles, and a pair of antennae angled into a very irritated expression.

“Hi Trrili,” I said. “Everything okay in there?”

Paint added, “We heard a noise—”

The door shut in our faces. After a moment, the screechy serenade resumed.

I blinked. “Rude.”

Paint had her hands over her earholes. “What is it??”

“Probably not a machine failure,” I said, wincing as the noise approached nails-on-chalkboard levels. “Let’s go ask Zhee.”

We walked very quickly away, and found Zhee outside the kitchen talking to Eggskin. The sound was faint here, but still audible.

“Hey Zhee,” I said cheerfully. “Can you tell us what in the seven spherical black holes Trrili is doing right now?”

Zhee threw his own purple pincher arms in the air. “Butchering a classic,” he exclaimed. “I’ve told her that she’s got the middle part backwards, but she insists it’s a regional variant!”

I glanced at Eggskin, who was just shaking their scaly head. “So it is music, then.”

Zhee folded his pinchers with a flare of antennae. “There’s a skreeking competition at Basal Station,” he said. “She’s under the impression that the judges there will enjoy regional variants that are wrong.”

“I see,” I said, wondering if I should ask the obvious question.

Paint beat me to it. “What’s skreeking?”

“Leg-singing,” Zhee said. “You know.” He moved a hind leg in a way that made a brief screech.

I knew I was staring, but it was either that or burst out laughing, and that was rarely complimentary. You’d think I’d get used to discovering ways that my alien crewmates resembled Earth animals, but you’d be very wrong.

Paint let out a gusty sigh. “I don’t understand that kind of singing either,” she said. “This makes even less sense than the other one!”

“Remember, there’s always dancing,” I told her. “And if it makes you feel better, I have no idea how to dance to the noise Trrili’s making.”

Zhee hissed quietly. “No one could dance to that. Not without tripping over every other limb.”

Eggskin spoke up. “Well, I’m certainly not going to try. Would you three like to help me settle on the primary meal for tonight’s dinner?”

I smiled. “Oh, I’m sure we won’t disagree on anything there.”

~~~

Keen eyes might recognize the shanty lyrics from a couple older posts. I even used one song in The First Time Traveler to Survive, which is a different storyverse entirely, but it's too much fun to leave there. I'm going to say humans invented it twice, and no one's going to stop me!

Anyways, this is the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

#somebody did a lovely recording of one of those songs #but the link isn't working anymore #so I guess I won't share that #more's the pity #my writing #The Token Human #space shanties #humans are weird #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #science fiction #writeblr

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imagine-knowing-a-name · 26 days

Text

here we are, no one else

Summary: Wanda and R finally get a moment alone

Word Count: 1768 Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader Part 6 of 'Half of My Hometown' series masterlist <- previous part | next part ->

»»————-　★　————-««

“No Vision tonight?”

Your voice breaks Wanda out of her mindless stare at the floor. She looks up, smiling as she meets your eyes, while slightly shaking her head.

“No. He’s not even in the country, Tony needed him for some intelligence mission.”

“Shame,” you mumble. The woman across from you smirks and raises an eyebrow in amusement at your sarcastic tone, and it’s only then that you catch what you said. Even though you’ve clearly been caught, you clear your throat and quickly try to change the subject to distract her. “You know… it’s been years, but I still feel weird calling him ‘Tony’.”

“Do you still remember all the names we used to call him?” Wanda asks and, though it's light-hearted, you pick up on the slight edge to her tone.

You sheepishly nod, floods of former nicknames for your current boss resurfacing in your mind. Across from you, Wanda’s tight posture loosens slightly, and you realise the implicit meaning behind her question – testing where you stood with Stark, and whether you'd judge the decisions she had made in your absence.

“I can’t really mention those to Vision,” she adds shyly. Your gaze snaps back up to hers with wide eyes and an open-mouthed expression at the thought, just to see her grinning widely.

“Definitely not,” you laugh, surprised by how at ease you feel again tonight, “those names should… well… they should not leave Sokovia.”

“Probably where Stark would ship me back to if he found out.”

“You and me both,” you hum, “though it would be nice to go back home.”

“Not much left of it though.” Wanda frowns and drops her eyes to the ground, the mood sobering quickly.

Seeing her this dejected is enough to make you frown too, so you bump her shoulder with your own and shoot her a toothy grin once she meets your eyes, “I’d have you though, wouldn’t I? The two of us back in former Sokovian land? That’s home enough for me anyday.” She smiles at that, and you feel a warm sense of satisfaction in your chest with the knowledge that you caused that.

“What about right here? It’s got us back together again, maybe we could call this New Sokovia.”

“Right here? This little patch of corridor?”

Wanda nods, “Yes, exactly! We meet here often enough, it’s basically our spot, and if home is where the two of us are…”

“I’ll bring a sign next time. ‘Welcome to New Sokovia. Population: 2 (only at 2am)’, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Wanda laughs again with a wide and carefree smile on her face; a small noise which somehow has the power to warm you so completely from the inside out, as well as draw happiness to your own lips. You've missed this. You've missed her.

But then, quickly, your expression drops – something you only notice you've done when you see it mirrored by Wanda, whose face now shifts to concern over your disheartened look. Before she can ask what's wrong, you blurt out what it is that you've just remembered.

“I won't be here tomorrow.”

Typically, agents only work the night shift a few days a week, at the most. You had volunteered yourself to take the hours permanently – you enjoy the late nights, and it spared a few of your coworkers who prefer to have proper sleep schedules – but even with that, you'd worked every night for over two weeks. A break was long overdue.

Wanda still hasn't answered, and you begin to thrum your fingers against your leg. The ease of your previous conversation is now long gone, replaced by pounding nerves for her reaction. It was only one night, that shouldn't be a big deal, but it hasn't happened yet since your reunion with Wanda, due to the unusual scheduling.

“What?”

Her question gives little away.

“I, uh… I won't be here tomorrow,” you repeat redundantly – clearly she heard you. “I have the day off so… well, you know, if you're waiting here then it'll probably be someone else who comes past at 2am. Not that it will be any problem! Of course you're allowed to be here so they won't have an issue, but… just…”

You trail off, after finally noticing that Wanda hasn't said a word – nor even been able to say a word – amid your rambling. Once you stop talking, the lingering silence is enough to make you squirm, bouncing on the balls of your feet and swinging your arms as you refuse to make eye contact.

“Oh,” is all Wanda finally says.

You force your eyes upwards, daring to read Wanda’s face even while you fear the expression you might see; but hers only matches yours, eyes down towards her hands and lower lip ever so slightly caught between her teeth. She's disappointed, but not with you. There’s a question that’s been dying on your lips nearly every night for two weeks, and a wave of realisation washes over you that this is your opportunity to ask it, the best opportunity you’ll ever have.

“Would you meet during day? With me. During the day. Meet with me during the day. Would you want to meet up during the day instead?” You had to blurt the words out quickly before self-doubts could silence you, but as your cheeks burn, hindsight tells you that waiting a little longer to talk wouldn’t have hurt. At least just long enough to form the sentence. Regardless, your embarrassment from the situation now only served to aid the self-doubt which had finally caught up from your actions, and you quickly stutter over your next words while seeking to give Wanda a get-out clause, if she wanted to take it. “Obviously you don't have to, especially if you've got training or-”

“I'd love to.” Wanda cuts you off with a teasing smirk, well aware of how much you would have continued to talk had she not interrupted. “I finish training at 1.”

“I’ll meet you at 2?” you offer, “2pm. I’ll bring lunch, and you can take some time to wind down and get out of that uncomfortable looking outfit you have to wear.”

“My costume?” Wanda gasps in mock offence, while you struggle to contain your laughter – your teasing comment getting exactly the reaction you knew it would. “It looks very cool! Admit it looks cool!”

You hum, resting a hand on your chin in thought and drawing out the wait for as long as you can. “I did hear the full leather look is the next big trend,” you shrug with a devilish smile that Wanda would have seen had she not started celebrating the admission early. So you continue, “...if you’re in The Matrix.”

Her victory is swiftly ended; her arms drop to her sides and a pout overtakes the prior smugness while a deadpan gaze bores into you.

There’s a familiarity to her expression that sends you hurtling into your memories, stabbing at your heart when you remember the giggles of you and your accomplice, celebrating to yourselves everytime you managed to lure a young Wanda into your verbal (or even sometimes physical) traps. Over a decade later, you catch yourself before you can turn to share your joy with Pietro. He’s just another face you won’t ever see again.

Wanda doesn’t see the way your smile falls, something you're glad for. So when she turns to you with a renewed spark in her eye, even when you know that means she has a retaliation incoming, you coerce the prior amusement back into your expression.

“You’re just jealous,” she says with a light shove to your shoulder, and sticking out her tongue too for good measure, “because you used to wear your homemade costume everywhere, but I’m the one with the real one! Didn’t you wear that thing to bed?”

You gasp now, surprised that she not only remembered it, but also decided to use it against you.

“You're going to bring my costume into this?”

“Mmmmhm.”

“Alright, бубамара (ladybug)…” you trail off, grinning wildly as her face flushes redder than the aforementioned costume. “I should have known that’s where the red theme comes from.”

Scare resources forced you down creative routes to stay entertained in your childhoods – one such time involved cobbling together various clothing scraps and other well-worn items into costumes to imagine yourselves in lives that weren’t your own. You pictured yourself as a hero, strong enough to stop the onslaught of missiles raining down in Sokovia. Wanda, meanwhile, became a ladybug.

“It’s the colour of my powers,” Wanda whines, bashfully defending herself. But you still have thirteen years worth of teasing to unleash.

“Which is coincidentally the same colour? Or were you subconsciously channelling the bug all along?”

“...I don't even know why I missed you.”

Your face softens a little, taking in her words as the confession they are, that she’d missed you. Despite the demons in your brain, you find that you aren’t surprised by it – she’s already shown you that she’s missed you beyond a doubt, and those feelings don’t go unreciprocated. Still, the explicit reassurance of your friendship always manages to bring a warmth to your heart and this time is no different. Wanda clearly takes in your expression because she relaxes too, her shoulders sagging and a slight upwards turn appearing on her lips.

…It’s the perfect time to double down.

“The costume memories were a big gap! It’s understandable to miss them, Wands! But don’t you worry, I’ll just tell your team about it and make sure they give you plenty of reminders.”

“You wouldn't-”

You really wouldn't. Your lack of communication with the Avengers aside, the moments between you and Wanda – the shared memories, experiences, and jokes – they're something you're fiercely protective of. A feeling only comparable to jealousy sets in when you imagine one of Wanda's new friends calling her ‘ladybug’ the way you do. It's your nickname for her, a term for only you to use and nobody else should even get to know it. Not that you'll ever let Wanda know that.

Instead, you look down at the watch on your wrist, flashing the display to her as you grin and begin to walk backwards. Her head tilts in confusion and you almost hesitate to go. Almost. “Oh, would you look at the time? I better get back to my patrol. Got a lot to discuss with any Avengers I run into, afterall.”

Wanda's eyes darken, squinting and daring you to say anything about your childhood nickname for her. You smile innocently in return.

“See you at 2pm, бубамара! Dress comfy!”

»»————-　★　————-««

General Taglist: @canvascoloredin @fxckmiup @wizardofstories

Series Taglist: @holiday-house-of-m @emiliaisdead @wonderingnerd @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @chasethemoon @alexawynters @username23345 @marvelogic

A/N: went home for Easter and lost absolutely all my motivation to write, but it's here now 😭 anyway, comment/reblog with your thoughts on this one and what you want to see in future! :)

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #marvel #mcu #ikan writes #ikan homh

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kelin-is-writing · 1 year

Note

We have Dabi burning anyone who talks shit about you, but what if he overheard a bunch of pervs having a lewd conversation about you 🫢 maybe it’s your coworkers and he just so happened to hear all the filth they were saying about you:

“I wish I could see what those tits looked like underneath that uniform”

“I wonder if she’s still a virgin”

“They say the shy girls are the freakiest in bed”

“If I had her number, I’d ask her to send nudes every night for me to jerk off to”

Meanwhile, Dabi is sizzling with anger, steam coming off the top of his head and smoke flaring from his nostrils like a pissed off dragon

ANOOOOOOON— WHAT HAVE YOU DONE LIKE— I DON’T EVEN HAVE MY MEMES TO USE ON THIS ONE, BUT MY BRAIN IS SHORT-CIRCUITING HARD I PROMISE.

protective!dabi is everything please...

like— he wouldn’t let it out in the moment, because you’re on a date in public and problems might arise, but those comments bothers him a lot for three (3) reasons:

1. you’re clearly taken, that’s something disgusting to do (in his opinion);

2. you’re a person not an object, they’re disgusting and disrespectful;

3. the way they sexualized you like that, for everyone to hear, makes him want to vomit.

and if they didn’t want to apologise, scum like them always refuses to acknowledge their wrongdoings, dabi will take care of taking out the trash personally.

the villain tells you to wait there for him, sitting on a bench, as “i’ve got something important to take care of princess, i’ll be right back”, giving you a way too shining smile whereas his eyes were cold as ice; he then took off, menacing grim expression taking over his feature as soon as he turns away from you.

when dabi saw from a far the small group getting into an alley (of course they were thugs), he silently followed them suit trailing behind those four garbages and when he was close enough to the one on the far back the black haired young man lifted his hand level face with him and blue flames started coming out of his palm mercilessly, setting the guy on fire in few seconds.

when hearing the pained scream of their companion, the other three turned going blank when recognising dabi standing beside their lit up friend that was trying uselessly to take out the fire, before turning completely into ashes.

his turquoise furious orbs settled on the remaining trash bags as he slowly walked up to them:

“lemme show you scums what happens when you disrespect my woman.”

#kelin responds #answered #anonymous #bnha x reader fanfic #mha x reader fanfic #dabi x reader fanfic #touya todoroki x reader fanfic #bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #PLEASE HE WOULD BE THE MOST PROTECTIVE AND CARING BOYFRIEND OUT THERE. HANDS DOWN.#LIKE— his motto is “every tongue that raises against y/n SHALL and WILL fall”#he's very serious consistent and faithfull to it 🤧

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kidney9-9 · 10 months

Text

Just for Him - Kunikida Doppo

Anonymous asked: Hey!! Hope you’re having a good day, could I request Kunikida with a breeding kink? 🫣

Hi anon hope you enjoy! Thank you for sending this in.

Kunikida Doppo x Reader Warnings: smut, cursing, breeding, cream pie, over-stimulation

You were his perfect girl. Everything about you screamed "breeding type" with your wide baby holding hips, and the curve of your body, the way you were so kind, especially to children. Everything about you made Kunikida crazy about you.

He fell in love with you easily over the course of two years, but he hid his feelings until about now. You two weren't together but there was so much flirting, he could barely hold back his desires for you.

Even his coworkers had told him, "are you two together? You seem like an amazing couple!" Dazai spoke up to him one evening after watching the two of you interact - "you need to ask her soon or she'll leave."

And that you did! You told him yesterday that you were going out on a blind date your friend set up for you. It made him so angry he cracked the screen of his phone after talking to you about it. You sounded so interested and happy about going on a date with a stranger. But Kunikida knew you would have been so much happier if you went on a date with him instead.

So, he was going to sabotage this date before you go on it today. That was his plan. He wasn't completely sure how he was going to do it, but he was tempted to do anything in his power.

He showed up at your doorstep, completely soaked from the rain. He purposefully left his umbrella at home. He knocked on your door and breathed in a nervous breath, hoping that you hadn't gone on the date still.

There you were! Dressed up for the date in a magnificent dress that showed off all your appealing features. He gulped before he spoke up, "Hello Y/n, sorry for showing up without any warnings. My phone died and I didn't recognize where I was until I saw the street name and realized you lived around here."

He was being truthful about his phone being dead, but he was lying about not recognizing the neighborhood.

You blinked in surprise and a kind smile appeared on your face, "Oh Kunikida! Come in, I’m so sorry you got caught in the rain. Come dry off. I'm just getting ready right now."

"Thank you so much, I’ll be in your debt for this." Kunikida bowed slightly before entering your apartment.

Your apartment was sparkling clean, just how he loved it and how he kept his apartment. It was admirable.

"Would you like some water or tea? You could take a shower if you'd like too, it seems like you're soaked through the bone." you told him, welcoming him in more.

He glanced around before smiling at you again, "I’d love to take a shower and have some tea to warm me up, thank you."

He couldn't help but check you out again, watching as you swayed into the kitchen and pointed to the way to the bathroom. Your hips and ass were perfect, he groaned quietly to himself about it.

Those hips - just perfect for holding a baby up.

He couldn't help but think about putting babies in you constantly.

"I’ll make you some black tea, that's your favorite right?" you spoke up.

"It is, thank you for being so thoughtful." he responded, placing a hand on your shoulder lightly before taking it off and sighing as he walked to the bathroom.

"Thank you again, darling." he slipped out the nickname, causing you to look surprised and embarrased.

"O-of course, Kuni', you're so sweet." you told him.

He flushed at the nickname and closed the door to the bathroom behind him. He was glad that you offered him your shower because he got to use your products and he'd smell like you. He loved your smell, it was so perfectly you.

He showered quickly, but made sure to remember the products you used, hoping to have to buy them soon so you could be staying at his apartment.

He stepped out of the shower and dried off, thinking of setting the towel down low on his waist. He did just that, loosely, and walked out of the bathroom, towards the kitchen where you were sitting down with your own cup of tea.

He grinned at you softly, as you checked him out, surprised. He liked the way you looked at him, making him feel certain that you liked him just as much as he liked you.

“Ah, Kuni’, uh, here’s your tea. I’ll go get some spare clothes for you, they’re my brother’s.” You spoke up, eyes avoiding his, but you were definitely checking out his abs. Kunikida silently thanked himself for sticking to his exercise routine.

“Thank you.” He responded, adjusting the towel on his waist loudly. Your eyes dropped to the towel, and you silently rushed off a moment later.

“Here’s some clothes.” You pushed them onto the table, unable to walk closer to him. He did step towards you though, and made you pause as you were drinking your tea. He took another step closer to you, causing you to widen your eyes slightly, it was unnecessary.

“Okay, be right back.” He said, and you nodded back without saying anything. He went to the bathroom to go change again. The clothes fit – well except for the shirt. It was too tight on him, but he put it on regardless. He knew you’d be checking his abs out again through that shirt.

“I’m back.” He spoke up, causing your eyes to shift towards him.

You bit your lip slightly, “I see they fit, kind of.”

“Mm, actually this shirt… well you could see.”

“I definitely can see.” You laughed, eyes glancing up and down his shirt. His nipples were very visible, and his abs were outlined against the top.

He breathed in slightly before taking a risk and saying, “Do you like it?”

“What? Kuni’ – I,” You stumbled over your words.

“I guess you do.” He supposed, shrugging, causing the shirt to drift upwards.

He didn’t bother to fix it. He took a few steps closer to you, holding the tea up to his lips. He drank some and sat the cup down next to yours. He kept silent as he stared down at you, reading your expression as your lips opened up slightly.

“Where are you finding all this confidence? We’re usually not like this, Kuni’.” You spoke up, eyes gazing into his.

“Since you’re going on a date. I thought I’d show you what I thought of you before you left.” He replied softly.

“Show me? How?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows.

“This is something we should’ve done long ago.” He murmured, and before you could question what, he leaned down and captured your lips into a soft and gentle kiss. The kiss was perfect, that was all he could think of. You responded after a moment of surprise, and stepped closer to him, making him feel the fabric of your dress onto his skin that was showing under that shirt.

“Yeah!” You agreed with a huff of air as you pulled away for a moment before you pulled him close again with your hand sneaking up the tight shirt and pinching his abs softly.

He almost squeaked at that, surprised at your action before he laughed quietly and picked you up with no struggle.

You almost screamed at him as you started to laugh loudly, “Kuni’! What are you doing?” He moved towards your bedroom, grinning down at you.

“I’m showing you why you need to cancel your date right now.” He demanded, and you gaped at him as he threw you down on the bed.

“Doppo! Oh my god, we’re doing this right now?” You laughed, clearly not taking him seriously. He raised his eyebrows at you and nodded.

“Yeah, where’s your phone?” He asked, gazing around the room. You pointed to your nightstand, and he picked it up, and opened your phone, knowing the password already because you told him.

“What’s his name?”

“Asahi.” You responded within a moment.

“Okay, message him right now.” He ordered, pushing a hand onto your stomach. You peeped out a noise at his touch but nodded at him. You took the phone and typed in something and pressed send, glancing up at Kunikida.

“I canceled on him.”

“Good, now we can do this properly. Like we should have already. Right?” He questioned you and you could practically feel the blush warm up your face at his tone.

“Right.” You whispered back. He stood back up straight and started to take his shirt off, accidentally ripping it. You two started to laugh shortly at it, but the laughter quickly stopped as he started to take his pants off.

“Take that dress off, now.” He insisted, tilting his head at you. You did as he said, slowly taking your dress off to tease him, making him gulp as he started to see your naked figure. You weren’t wearing a bra, but you were wearing lacy panties, which made him groan.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, Y/n.” He spoke up. He left himself with just his boxers on as he leaned down, his knees on the floor and his face by the side of the bed. He spread your legs apart and you squeaked out a noise of surprise.

“Kuni’, sweetie, you don’t need to do that.” You told him, smiling down at him.

“I want to, I need to see what you taste like…” He trailed off, staring down at your covered pussy.

“Only if you really want to.” You shrugged, gazing down at him before you started to slip off your panties. He practically moaned at the sight of your wet pussy as the panties went down your legs. He ripped them off of you and dove right in.

He lapped his tongue over your pussy, making you moan loudly. “Oh fuck, Kuni’!” You cried out as he circled around your clit. He groaned against your pussy, loving the taste of you. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Call me Doppo or sir. Got it?” He asked, and you nodded, a slight moan falling from your lips again, “Yes sir.”

“I’m going to breed you so well.” He muttered against you as you pressed yourself harder on him.

“Please, sir.” You heard him and responded like that? Fuck, he thought, that was hot. He thought you’d find him disgusting for saying such a thing, but you responded with a “please”?

“Fuck, I’m goin’ to fuck you so hard.” He grunted, rubbing his hand over his clothed cock as he licked you.

With his other hand he started to pump a finger in and out of you quickly, causing you to whimper and moan some more. He sucked your clit into his mouth, making your eyes fall back and you let out a voiceless scream. It wasn’t too long until you started to approach your orgasm.

“Sir, I’m coming!” You alerted him, whimpering when he kept his pace just like that. So many guys would have stopped or tried to do something different, but not Doppo. He knew to keep going and then you’d orgasm.

“Come for me.” He hummed against you, and you let it all out, coming all over his face. It took a few moments to recover, but your legs kept shaking and you felt overwhelmed still.

“Doppo…. Ahh, fuck me please.” You begged, whimpering for more.

He pulled back, pushing your body up on the bed more while he sat down in between your legs. He spread your legs out even more, causing them to twitch a lot. He started to massage them with his hands, and you moaned slightly, wanting to lean into his touch more.

“I will, be patient.” He responded with a smirk.

“Please, Doppo, I really want you. I need your cock.” You begged more.

He shook his head and sighed, “I know you do, just wait a moment. Let me prepare.”

He left you in your room and quickly went into the kitchen to grab his things. In his pocket to his pants, was a condom. He picked it up and opened the package. He unrolled it over his dick after taking it out of his boxers.

He slowly walked back into the bedroom, smiling when he saw your legs closed tightly together, trying to get some relief. Your eyes were shut, and you were groaning his name, and he dipped down onto the bed, sitting down on the edge at first.

“I have a condom on, even though I said that I would breed you. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to take me without a condom.” He explained, letting his boxers fall to his feet, and he kicked them off. You opened your eyes and shook your head.

“Doppo, babe, I’d rather you don’t wear one. I’m on birth control already and I really want to feel you come inside me. Breed me, like you said.”

“Really? I want to make sure.” He responded, his cock twitching at your words.

“Yes, come here and take that thing off.” You pleaded, sitting up and wrapping your legs around his back. He turned around in your hold after he took off his condom, letting it lay on the floor instead.

“You’re incredible.” He sighed, pulling you to him closer, so you’d be sitting in his lap.

You adjusted yourself so you were aligned with his cock, and you glanced up to see if it was alright, after he nodded back to you, you slowly sank down on his cock, sighing together. You started to lift your hips up and down, starting to fuck yourself on his dick. He gripped your back and guided you on his dick, sighing deeply, “You’re so good to me, we should’ve done this earlier.”

“Fuck, oh my,” You panted as he started to suck on one of your tits, roughly fucking you at the same time.

He pushed you down on the bed and changed positions, pushing his dick deeper into you, reaching your g-spot, and causing you to yell his name silently, gasping for air. He grinned back down at your reaction and continued his actions.

He pushed a hand down to your pussy and started to rub his fingers on your clit harshly, making our eyes roll back. Your orgasm came to you quickly, making you shout out his name, “Doppo, sir, I’m coming!”

You groaned loudly as he continued to fuck you over while your orgasm rolled over you. You felt so sensitive and warn out, but he continued, not relenting, or changing his actions, wanting to encourage you into another orgasm.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well right now.” Doppo spoke up, grunting as he started to feel like he was about to finish. He had to hold it off for another orgasm for you though.

“Are you ready to give me one more?” He asked you while you were moaning. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“What? No, that’s too much I can’t.” You whimpered.

He tutted his tongue at you, “C’mon now, I know you can do it, be good and give me another one and that’s it, okay?”

“But I can’t, that was my limit.” You cried out, and he shook his head.

“I know you can do more.” He sighed, slowing his hips down. You were continuously whimpering and twitching, but he wanted more.

“…Fine, I’ll try.” You whispered making him smile down at you. He leaned down and kissed you hard. You kissed him back after a moment of surprise and moaned as he started to speed up again, fucking you deeply.

He started to rub your clit again and then pulled away from your puffy lips, making you groan. He focused on your nipples again, biting down and sucking your tit harshly. You gasped out loud, and held your arms around his neck, pulling him down closer to your tits.

He let go of the tit and focused on the other while he started to pinch your clit harder, making you cry out. You were already about to come again from how intense he was acting, it was insane. You shook your head and tried to warn him, but you couldn’t, all that was coming out of your mouth was whimpers of his name.

He could tell you were about to come when you started to clench and unclench around him randomly, which also caused him to stutter in his movement, wanting to go deeper into you.

“Mm, good girl, go ahead, come for me.” He sighed down at you, and with his words, you finally let it go for the last time. You came hard, crying his name out from your mouth. He leaned down and kissed you passionately.

He started to let go too, and he finally came, pulsating his cum deep into your pussy. He groaned loudly, breaking away from the kiss as the cum continued to push into your pussy.

“Fuck…” He panted out, stopping his movements, but staying inside your pussy. You moaned as you felt his cum travel up inside of you, and you grounded your hips down onto his, wanting to savor the moment.

He pulled out after a few minutes of silence between the two of you and sighed deeply, “That was amazing.” You nodded and agreed with him, “It was.”

He sat up on the bed and stared down between your legs, noticing how his cum was pushing out of your pussy. He groaned at the sight, and quickly moved his fingers without even thinking about it, pushing the cum back into your pussy.

You moaned at the feeling, and closed your eyes, feeling tired.

“Darling, I’ll clean you up, it’s okay to fall asleep now.” He promised you and you nodded sleepily, smiling sweetly at him.

“Thank you, Doppo.” You whispered tiredly.

“Thank you as well, Y/n. I must admit, I’ve been dreaming about this for ages.” He confessed, standing up from the bed. He wasn’t sure if you fell asleep or not but he continued talking, “I have had feelings for you for a long time. When you wake up, it’ll be time to talk about what we are. Even if it turns out that you don’t share the same feelings as I do, I just want you to be happy.”

He wiped your legs with a wet rag and tossed a cozy blanket over you. Then he pressed a kiss on your forehead, causing you to stir slightly and he laid down next to you. He fell asleep shortly after with a smile on his face.

#kunikida x reader #kunikida x you #kunikida doppo x reader #doppo x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x you

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dira333 · 6 months

Text

Passing Peonies - Post War Touya Todoroki - Part X

When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies.

Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.

Complete fic length: 30.600 words - Masterlist

Warnings: poor mental health and resentment against past actions is mentioned, burn scars etc. as well. There is angst but this is mostly soft Touya coming back to his family...

Part 10: (2,2k words)

“Do you ever…” He stops and looks at his mother, at the calmness of her face and the warmth that hasn’t left her eyes ever since he’s come back. “Are you scared of fire? I mean, now, after what happened?”

She halts in her movements of preparing tea for the two of them.

“I guess,” she says with uncertainty coating her voice. “I haven’t been around it since… you know.”

“Me either, until today.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“Nothing big.” He admits haltingly. “We just have this new coworker who smokes and when I saw the flame of her lighter, I got all weird and… tingly?”

His mother ponders that for a moment before she leaves the room without a word.

He waits, confused until she comes back with a candle and a box of matches.

“Finding the matches took me the longest.” She explains. “We rarely need those. Do you… do you wanna light the candle? I’m a little afraid of the matches.”

So is he, he realizes, as he fumbles around with them. He can’t remember ever using those, not when he could produce his own fire by age four.

His hands are sweaty as he works and he breaks two matchsticks before he can even light them.

When the third ignites, he drops it on the table in a mix of surprise and shock and they stare at it as it burns out on the glass surface.

The fourth match makes it to the candle but by now cold sweat is running down his back.

His mother is looking positively green in the face and they take turns staring quietly at the candle or each other for about a minute before he uses the plate of Takoyaki to smother the flame.

“What do you think?” His mother asks, her voice thick.

“I’d rather not do that again. But… how can I be afraid of my own quirk?”

“Do you miss it?” She asks, her small hand on his now.

“I remember how it felt to burn the first time.” He tells her, voice low, “It wasn’t just about achieving something, it was about the thing itself. Fire has always been kinda cathartic for me. So yes, I think… I think I miss it, even if I’m afraid of it. What if I can never use it again?”

“What if you can use something else instead?”

He furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Your hair turned white.” She points out, twirling a strand between her fingers. “What if other things have changed too?”

His father finds him later that day, still in his room, too restless to sleep and too tired to do much but flip through his books. He’s allowed internet access now but hasn’t used it much, preferring the calmness of printed books at the moment.

“You’re mother tells me you’re not feeling well.” He says, arms crossed, an enormous bandage sticking out from his left upper arm.

“What happened to your arm?” Touya asks, sitting up.

“Just an unfortunate meeting with someone wielding a knife, it looks worse than it is.”

“You got stabbed at work?”

“Yeah. Kinda comes with the job.”

Touya stares at the bandage, his stomach churning.

“What’s on your mind, son?” His father sits down on his bed as well, the mattress dipping under his weight.

“Would you freak out if I got a piercing?” He asks, blurting out the first thing that comes to his mind which isn’t what he really wanted to say anyway.

“A piercing?” Enji’s eyebrows rise on his forehead as he speaks. “What kind of piercing?”

“I used to have one, well, multiple, on my ear. Four rings. I met someone who copied it and it reminded me of them and now I kinda want them back.”

His hand moves to his ear on instinct, and feels the new skin that has been grafted over, the new bone that has been grown beneath it. He knows, at least from what he’s been told, that his body had been destroyed to a point where there was almost no hope left.

But he somehow made it out alive, even if heavily scarred.

“What did they mean to you?” Enji asks, which is a way better question than the one he’d feared.

“We’re four kids.” He says simply and his father nods, slowly, as if he’d only just realized it himself.

The front door slams shut and Rei calls out a greeting from somewhere in the living room, but her “Welcome back Shouto.” stays unanswered.

Touya feels, rather than knows, that his youngest brother might have had a not-so-nice meeting with his girlfriend. Well, ex-girlfriend now.

Even Enji rises, eyebrows furrowed as if he senses it too.

And maybe it’s their history, that he asks right then and there, or something else, but the words fall out of his mouth like ripe tomatoes, splitting on his bedroom floor and leaving a mess like words are wont to do.

“Do you think I’ll ever be able to use my fire again?”

His father looks absolutely stricken at the question, torn between what he wants to say and his absolute lack of talent in lying.

“I don’t think you should.” He offers and it looks like the words hurt him, like they’re razor sharp and soaked in lemon juice.

“But the fire…”

“Your life,” his father’s voice trembles, “Is more important than any fire in the world. I’d give up my quirk this second if it meant keeping you alive.”

“Wow,” he jokes, the emotion in his father’s eyes so deep they threaten to choke him too, “That’s nice.”

Enji’s arms tighten and loosen, as if in tune with his heartbeat, until he steps forward and clears his throat.

“Can I, uh, can I hug you?”

And it’s nice, in a way, to be hugged like this. To be lifted up from the ground and swallowed up in arms the size of your ribcage, wrapped around you like the world doesn’t matter anymore.

If only he could turn off his head too, the flickering of a flame behind his eyelids.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Shouto only comes out of his room after everyone has settled for the night.

Rei had knocked on his door once, as well as Enji, but both times he’d asked to be left alone and his siblings knew to respect a wish like that.

Touya blinks into the sudden light when Shouto appears at his door, flicking on the light.

“I was sleeping-” He starts but stops when he realizes that Shouto’s eyes are red-rimmed and glassy.

“You wanna talk about it?” He says instead, mildly surprised when Shouto not only steps into his room but takes a seat on his bed as well.

“You’re in love with your boss, right?” Shouto asks, with the directness Touya has learned to accept from him. Doesn’t mean he likes it all the time.

“What makes you think that?”

“Momo told me.”

“Momo says a lot of things, that doesn’t make them true.”

“But you are in love with her.” His brother insists. “Right?”

“I might be.” He offers, the admission churning in his stomach. “But that doesn’t matter because love always involves two people.”

“But she loves you too.”

“Did she say that?” The words are out of his mouth before he can take them back, rushed and a bit too eager.

Shouto blinks in surprise and Touya bites his tongue. “Never mind. What gave you that impression?”

“She looks at you like Deku looks at Ochako. Or Jirou looks at Kaminari. Or Tenya looks at Tsuyu when he thinks nobody’s looking.”

“I get it, I get it, all your classmates are in relationships.”

“I tried replicating that kind of look.” Shouto admits. “But Momo just asks me if I have constipation when I do.”

“You can’t replicate that look, dumbass.” Touya rolls his eyes at him. “It’s when your feelings are visible on the outside.”

“Does that mean I don’t love Momo? I really do like her. It’s so easy to talk to her and she gets that my family is complicated.”

“How do you feel about her getting hurt?”

“She wouldn’t get hurt. She’s too capable.”

Touya rolls his eyes again. “Yes, I know she’s capable. But, think back to the past. Or the present. There might be fights she won’t get out so easily. How’d you feel about her getting hurt?”

Shouto looks, to put it simply, as if he’d just punched him in the gut.

“You okay?”

He doesn’t answer, but instead moves until he sits with his head between his knees.

“You okay?” Touya asks again, hands hovering over his head. “Are you going to be sick?”

“It would be my fault.” Shouto pushes out. “If she got hurt it would be my fault.”

“Okay, Shouto, look at me. She’s not hurt and it’s not your fault. I can tell you care about her, but maybe… maybe you should look into some therapy?”

“I did go to therapy.” His brother insists, head still locked between his knees. “Remember? I was there with you.”

“Yeah, when it was about family. But what about relationships? You didn’t have the best role model in that, it wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone about it, would it?”

Eventually, Shouto pulls his head back out and stares at him, his mismatched eyes eerie in their quietness.

“How’d you feel about her getting hurt?” He asks.

“It’s not just the hurt.” Touya admits. “Even though that thought fucks me up the most. It’s the fact that she doesn’t know how to cook so I learned it in case she’ll let me do it for her one day. So that she can stay healthy. It’s the fact that she wears threadbare gloves in winter and I haven’t figured out yet how to gift her better ones. It’s taking care of every plant because I know if the plant is hurt, she’s hurt about it. That’s… Well, that’s what I feel, I’ll let you decide what that is.”

“Do you think I’ll ever feel that about a person?”

Touya shrugs. “You’re what, eight years old? You still have more than enough time to find someone for you. Don’t rush into things. And who knows, maybe it will be good for you and Momo to have some time apart.”

Shouto huffs but says nothing, instead he turns and slips under the covers as if this is his bed and not his brother’s.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Can you turn off the light? Thank you.”

Touya doesn’t really know why he does it. Maybe he’s too tired to fight about it, or he is actually a bit worried about Shouto, or maybe there’s something else entirely, but he gets out of bed, shuts off the light, and slips back under the covers, resigning himself to half a blanket.

At least Shouto’s warm.

When Touya comes home the next day, Enji stops him at the front door.

“We’re leaving.” He tells him in a hushed voice.

“Where to?”

“There’s a piercing shop downtown. Hawks referred me to it.”

Touya blinks.

“I’m not… I haven’t thought about…”

“You don’t have to do it tonight if you don’t feel like it. You can just make fun of me getting antsy about the needles or whatever because I’ll be getting one.”

“Me too.” Natsuo pops up behind him, as if summoned by the term ‘making fun’.

“Oh, count me in.” Fuyumi slips her shoes on. “I told Mom we’re getting ice cream, so keep up the lie.”

“Ice cream?” Shouto appears in the kitchen door. “I heard they have one with Zaru Soba flavor, can we try that?”

Natsuo is the one with his phone poised, and Touya’s glad for it because he would never want to forget this moment, his father squirming anxiously in the too-small chair, while the piercer preps everything he needs.

He doesn’t know how they did it, or when they talked it through, but they’ve all thought about it in detail.

His father’s getting five rings, one silver and four gold, at the same place where Touya had his own. It’s not hard to gather what they stand for.

His siblings have decided on something similar. They choose the same placement - Fuyumi chooses gold rings because she prefers gold - but ask to leave a little gap each at whatever position they stand in their family tree.

It looks ridiculous but it has meaning and when they all grin back at him with varying shades of pain visible on his face - his father really is horrible around needles - he can’t say no.

“Alright, put them back in.” He orders and takes a seat as well.

He doesn’t know what you’ll think of it, but from what he knows about you, he knows you’d always push him to be himself in whatever save way he can.

It doesn’t make coming home easier, though,j when his mother awaits them with her arms crossed.

“As if I’d fall for something like that.” She tells them sternly. “You could have taken me with you. Enji, dear, did you make sure it’s not the ‘gay ear’? Hawks told me about that kind of thing.”

taglist: @misfit-megumi @shoulmate @pixiesavvy @the2ndl @neko-my-cat @chelseaquake @tiredslepz @frozen-phoenix17 @spltbtch @touyasprettydoll @dream-girl-stuff

taglist is open, if you want to join, just mention it in a comment or send me a message.

#my writing #Passing Peonies #Touya Todoroki #Dabi #Touya x reader #Dabi x reader #Todoroki family #Happy Todoroki #soft Touya #Soft Dabi #Dabi fluff #Touya fluff #angst to happy end

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Note

omg I’m so excited to see the Shroud parents, I thought they’d for sure be locked only to hometown events!! did not expect them to be in the main story. speaking of, why do you think they haven’t shown their faces to us? do you think maybe twst had to cut corners to make it for this update?

Yes, the helmets have super cool and sleek designs ^^ Mr. Shroud has a more oblong shape like Hades’ face, and I actually notice those were flowers on Mrs. Shroud’s until one of these Anons pointed it out. (I think maybe because the “flowers” looked too spiky for my mind to register them as mimicking something organic?? Totally thought they were stars!) In hindsight, flowers makes a lot of sense given that there’s an infamous irl ancient Greek myth about how the seasons came to be (which, of course, involves Hades and Persephone becoming romantically involved—though there are variations across different tellings).

My guess is it probably would have taken just as much time to design new faces and hair as it did to design those complicated helmets. Because of that, I believe current looks are probably intentional rather than a last minute change for convenience. Now that the Shroud parents do wear those helmets, we may be given an explanation for them somewhere down the line.

The helmets could be a conscious fashion decision the characters make! What the reason for that is exactly, I’m not sure. It could be special equipment they wear to protect themselves, but then I don’t think it makes a ton of sense because if that’s the case then… why are the Shroud parents the only ones wearing them?? Why wouldn’t all the other STYX researchers also have them on?

It could be a medical issue limited to Mr. ans Mrs. Shroud (like maybe it’s an air purifier??), but we don’t really have any evidence to support that. Idia’s family isn’t described to be particularly sickly either.

Maybe it’s a shyness thing (and Idia takes after them)??? Like, they don’t want their faces to be seen by their coworkers because it makes them feel kind of awkward…? We’ve seen that Idia better communicates when it’s not face-to-face and/or when his face is concealed (like in a Pumpkin Knight helmet), so it could be a similar situation for his parents. Alternatively, maybe the headwear denotes high status in the organization…? But Idia was not wearing one when he was at STYX 🤔

If anyone had any other ideas or theories, I’d love to hear them ^^ (cbskxbkwbsi I did hear a few people jokingly theorizing that the helmets are equipped with voice modifiers because they were shocked at how youthful Mrs. Shroud sounded! I believe her VA is the same person that voices Cardcaptor Sakura and Mr. Shroud is voiced by the person that does adult dorm Kero aka Cerberus…? Idia was literally born from anime legends 😂)

#twst #twisted wonderland #Idia Shroud #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #question #spoilers #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theory #twisted wonderland theories #Ortho Shroud #Ignihyde #Hades #Persephone #Cardcaptor Sakura #Kero #Keroberos

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rouxbea · 1 year

Text

Nothing but Love

Hashira!Tanjiro x Demon Slayer!Reader

2nd person POV, kinda canon, fem reader

(Sfw) (Part 1) (You’re Mitsuri’s sister)

Tw: injuries (not graphic)

Tanjiro was a menace. You, being Mitsuri’s little sister, followed her advice. “Find a man that is strong, who will love you, and who will protect you!” So, when she introduced you to the Hashiras, her coworkers, you obviously had those words floating in the back of your mind.

Each one was loads stronger than you, even though you were a demon slayer yourself. The women, the men, gosh. Beautiful, strong, and smart. There was almost no way to choose, you thought. At least two were out of the question— your sister and the man she loved. Iguro was sweet, and he warned you against a particular person he wasn’t too fond of. You nodded, but still introduced yourself to the one you were warned of.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” Said the man, Tanjiro Kamado. His hand was much larger than yours, holding it tight as he shook it. “Mitsuri’s sister, hm? That makes sense! You and her share a certain beauty.”

“Thank you..!” You said softly, giving him a smile. Another man then crashed into him, yelling about one thing or another. Tanjiro calmed him, patting the man’s blonde hair. You had excused yourself from the conversation, waving goodbye to the men.

The next time you saw Tanjiro, it was under very different circumstances. He was in bed, a gash in his stomach and over his chest, claw marks along his arms. You had spent time at the Butterfly Mansion, returning when you had hurt your leg. You decided to stay and help out while you healed.

“Tanjiro?!” You exclaimed, eyes wide. He was already cleaned up, but you were instructed to change his bandages.

“Oh, (Y/n), hello.” He said, his voice quiet, the warm, kind look still on his face. He was putting up a front.

“How are you feeling? Do you need some pain killers?” You asked, gently pulling back the covers, undoing the bandage on his arm and taking it off. You made sure to be gentle, avoiding unnecessary pressure and irritants on the areas.

Tanjiro shook his head, wincing as you pulled the bandage completely off. “No, I’m fine, thank you. I had some earlier.”

You nodded, cleaning the wound and re bandaging him, whispering soft apologies for the pain. You repeated the area on his other arm before moving to his stomach. It looked bad. It must have hurt like hell.

“Eh, it wasn’t too bad.” Tanjiro said, looking away. You didn’t realize you’d said that last part out loud.

“I.. ah.. still. Thank you for harming yourself while protecting humans. You save so many people. You deserve better, for being such a good person.” You ran your hand over the skin above the new bandage, making sure nothing was pulling.

He hissed, sucking in a breath at the cold hand that traveled along his hot skin, begging his mind not to wander. He didn’t get genuine compliments like this all the time. He felt special. “Thank you,” he said, reaching up and cupping your jaw with his hand, running a thumb along your cheekbone. “You are sweet.”

Your eyes went wide and you blushed, blinking at him. You could hear your sister’s advice in your mind again, thinking how Tanjiro’s sweet, kind, smart, warm, loving, and strong.

“Ah.. I..” you mumbled, looking away.

Tanjiro hummed, smiling and chuckling a little. “Hey, why don’t you come back here after the sun goes down? I’d like to show you something.”

The request seemed a little odd, but you nodded nonetheless, agreeing to it. “Sure, I’ll.. I’ll see you then.”

Tanjiro beamed, waving goodbye as you left, butterflies in his stomach. He’d met many different kinds women in his life before. Civilians, demons, slayers, princesses, entertainment district workers… but you... You were different, somehow. The sparkle in your eyes, the warm, sweet smell radiating from your body… it was intoxicating to him.

////

That night, you pulled your haori around your pajamas, small silk shorts and a top. It was only a little chilly, but you didn’t mind. You felt so sneaky, walking to a man’s room so late at night for… something.

Once you knocked then opened the door, your eyes widened. You saw a little girl curled up on his bed, playing with his hands as she cooed, her legs kicking absently.

“Tanjiro..?” You weren’t sure what to say. Once you met his pretty wine colored eyes, you were put at ease.

“(Y/n)! Perfect timing.” He said with a smile, waving for you to come closer. So you did, tilting your head at the girl. “This is my sister, Nezuko.” He said, patting the girl’s head. “She got turned into a demon years ago, but she hasn’t killed anyone. My goal is to change her back to the lovely young woman she is.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at the sight of such a close bond, at how determined they were, at everything. You looked to Nezuko, who was looking up at you with bug eyes. You smiled, crouching down. Resting your arms on the bed, you reached out, patting her head. “It’s nice to meet you, Nezuko. I’m (Y/n). You’re a beautiful girl!” You told her with a smile, smiling up to her brother next. He had a warm expression on his face.

“Nezuko, can I braid your hair?” You asked excitedly. She nodded, remembering another woman. She was like you, but bigger. She played with her, loved on her, cared for her… she made the connection that you two were sisters.

You sat down on the floor, patting the space in front of you. She climbed down, settling with her back towards you. You looked to Tanjiro again before running your fingers through the girl’s hair. “I understand the odd request, now.” You told him, beginning to section off pieces of her hair.

“Yeah.. I didn’t want to scare you off. Plus, I felt that the two of you would hit it off right away.” He said with a chuckle, wincing from the movement. His hand flew to his stomach, but he gave you a smile, letting you know he was fine.

After a few minutes of humming and braiding, Nezuko’s hair was done, and she ran over to look at herself in the mirror. She cooed, running back over and tackling you in a hug. You laughed, hugging her back before she climbed back up in bed with her brother, showing him what you did.

“Beautiful!” He exclaimed, running his hand along it. “Misses (Y/n) certainly is wonderful, isn’t she?” Nezuko nodded, curling back up against her brother.

“Miss.” You corrected, looking away. “My sister is Misses. She and Iguro… yeah. I’m just miss.”

Tanjiro was quiet for a moment before nodding. “I’m sorry.. I assumed…” he shook his head, a smile on his lips as he turned away.

You spent more of the evening playing with Nezuko and talking to Tanjiro about this and that, enjoying each other’s presences. You told him about all your sisters, including Mitsuri, who he already knew fairly well. He told you about his other siblings, a sad smile on his face as he spoke. You reached your hand up, placing it over his to offer support.

Nezuko climbed in your lap, curling up like a kitten and starting to doze off, so you decided you’d lean against the bed. What’s the harm in resting your eyes for a moment? Tanjiro had begun to doze off, but you really didn’t want to disturb the girl. Just a bit…

A bird awoke you about five hours later, yelling about a demon inhabiting an abandoned house. “Shh!” You scolded, glancing over to Tanjiro, who was still asleep. Nezuko had moved to her box before the sun rose, while you stayed passed out.

When you stood up and stretched, your bones cracked, awaking the Hashira. “Where are you going?” He mumbled, not fully awake.

“A mission.” You replied, apologizing for waking him.

“No worries. Be safe. Come back to me, (Y/n).”

///

Those five words echoed in your mind as you traveled, as you camped out, as you fought, as you trekked back days later.

You arrived back at the Butterfly Mansion, going straight to Tanjiro’s room. But, to your surprise, it wasn’t him in bed. It was your sister and her husband, both giving you looks.

“So… wanna tell me what you’ve got going on with-“ Mitsuri started, only to get cut off by her husband.

“I told you to stay away from the Sun Hashira. You didn’t listen to me.” He glared at you, Kaburamaru flicking his tail.

“Oh shush! It’s better him than Inosuke…” she teased, nudging Iguro.

“Says you.” He griped, respecting Mitsuri’s wishes and laying off of you.

“Right!! Says me! Now… who are you looking for, sis?” She asked, giving you a shit eating grin.

“Tanjiro. He… asked me to come back to him.”

Mitsuri kicked her legs excitedly, shaking Obanai. “Did you hear that!?!!? My sister’s caught the eye of a Hashira!! I knew you could do it!!! I’m so happy for you!!!”

With pink cheeks, you quickly excused yourself, your sister calling out that Tanjiro had moved to a new room since he was doing better.

“Hey, are you awake?” You asked quietly, opening the door and seeing the familiar man in bed. “Oh! I see you are. You look like you’re feeling better,” you said, stepping in the room, closing the door behind you.

“You came back to me,” he said with a smile, patting and empty space on his bed, asking you to sit with him. You did, placing your hands in your lap as you looked to him. He was so radiant, so warm, so caring. “I was worried about you.”

“I’m perfectly okay,” you assured him, placing your hand on his knee, giving him a nod. “It wasn’t anything difficult, I assure you.”

Tanjiro hummed, nodding. “Maybe you’re just skilled. That’s why it felt easy. Do not sell yourself short.” He reached up, placing a hand on your hip. It was so warm against your cool skin and clothes. “I hear you continuously turn down a seat as a Hashira.”

You hummed, nodding. “It’s not for me. I wish to be able to retire easier. To be expendable.”

Tanjiro grew quiet, and you could practically hear him pouting. “Don’t say such things. You’re not expendable.”

You hummed, turning to look at him with a smile. “Touchy today, Tanjiro.” You teased. He pulled his hand back, mumbling apologies. “I didn’t say I disliked it.” You took his hand in yours, moving it back, but placing it on your thigh this time. “I love feeling your body heat.”

His cheeks darkened, his temperature going up. “Ah.. So.. you don’t mind if I flirt with you? If.. if I court you?”

You gave him a look, your cheeks turning pink, matching his. You shook your head, giving him a smile. “I’d quite like that, Tanjiro.”

Ever since then, life was brighter. You found yourself stumbling into situations with the Sun Hashira far more frequently, appreciating his gentle guiding touches, along with the flowers he’d pick for you.

He also found perfect ways to tease you. Whether it was commenting to Obanai about how you watched the sun ride together, or subtly bragging to Inosuke that he could be *gentle* with a lover, he always found ways to make you blush in public. Another time was when you two were getting onigiri before a mission. “Well isn’t she a good wife,” the lady commented, you picking out a table.

“The best wife!” Tanjiro had replied, loud enough for you to hear and for your cheeks to darken, yet again.

What really got you though was the soft compliments and praises he’d whisper into your hair as the two of you camped out, hunting for the next demon.

Whether it was rainy or sunny, whether he was with you or not…

You felt nothing but love.

#tanjiro x reader #demon slayer x reader #Hashira x reader #tanjiro x you #tanjiro x y/n #demon slayer x y/n

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adidastain · 4 months

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i’ll have what she’s having

90s trey parker (office!au) x fem!reader

warnings: none

notes: first person perspective (I, me, my, etc.)

word count: 3424

—

“When are you gonna let me take you out to dinner?” my coworker asked me, waiting for me to finish filling my water bottle at the cooler.

“When you get your sales up, Parker,” I said, tilting my head. I tapped the knot of his necktie as I turned around to face him. Trey looked down at me, smirking. “I can’t be seen in public with a poor salesman.”

“Says the temp,” He retorted, hurriedly pouring water into a tiny paper cup as I started walking back to my desk. Trey followed me through the kitchen to my cubicle, which was on the opposite side of the office to his.

“Not for much longer if you don’t get those numbers up,” I grinned sweetly, leaning against my desk. Trey stood in front of me, also leaning to the side. I batted my eyelashes at him. “Keep wasting time like this and we’ll end up switching seats.”

I sat down, tidying up a stack of papers. I reached for the handset, until Trey placed his hand on mine to stop me from picking up the phone.

“And if I get my sales up?” he proposed.

I laughed at him as if to say, “like that could ever happen.” I tsked, shaking my head.

“You’ll let me take you out, right?” he continued.

I looked up at him, staring into his bright, blue eyes. I had to admit, he was quite handsome. He was funny too; he’d always do the best impressions of our other coworkers with dumb voices. I usually brought in coffee for our boss, then Trey asked me to start bringing him some, and now he’s the one who brings me coffee.

“If you can make 20 sales before 5 o’clock, you can take me out tonight, yes. That’s an hour,” I told him, rolling my eyes slightly. “Others might consider those rookie numbers, so hop to it.”

I patted his shoulder, watching him walk away with a smile on my face. I felt my cheeks turn red. I knew it would be a challenge for him, since he always got distracted. Part of me was really rooting for him, though. The only reason I ever said no to him was to see how far he was willing to go to get me to go out with him. It was slightly cruel, I’ll admit it. But he was very determined.

I didn’t see him for the rest of the day, and for once I was able to get a little more work done than usual. I was in my boss’ office when 5 PM rolled around. She and I had been discussing an opportunity for a permanent position at the office, since I was just a temp. However, she seemed to think that I’d make a good fit, so I was excited to be able to finally secure a job that didn’t last less than a month.

Once I got out of her office, it was 5:02, and Trey was still on the phone. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with concern and anticipation. I could see his leg bouncing underneath the desk. I leaned against the wood, examining all of the papers sprawled across his desk, all covered in his messy handwriting.

“I- Okay. Yes. We’ll talk tomorrow. Definitely. Thanks. Bye-bye,” Trey said, before hanging up the phone. He leaned forward, exhaling heavily with his face in his hands.

“Three minutes overtime,” I said, tapping my index finger on his desk.

“I only made 17,” he huffed, leaning back. Trey looked at me with probably the saddest pair of defeated eyes I’d ever seen. I honestly felt kinda bad for him; I bet he’d worked harder in that last hour than he ever had before.

“Aww,” I said, tilting my head. “Better luck next time, kiddo.”

I reached down to rub his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt had that nice, soft texture that you only got from real expensive dress shirts. My hand lingered there for a few seconds; longer than I intended to.

“Wanna go get some drinks?” I asked, leaning down to meet his eye level.

His head snapped up to look at me. His whole face lit up, eyes wide and all. “What?” he choked out.

“You heard me,” I laughed, crossing my arms. I bit my lip, watching him grin from ear to ear.

“I guess so,” he shrugged, sighing. I rolled my eyes, standing up to put my baggy black sweater on over my blouse. I started walking towards the exit, watching Trey scramble to get all of his stuff together and catch up to me. Soon we were in the parking lot, playfully arguing about where we were headed.

“I could do with a nice shake, I think,” I stated, following Trey to his little beat-up car.

“There’s a diner by the mall,” he said. Two minutes ago, he was insisting we go to a pub up the street. He was such a simple creature. He just wanted to please me.

“That is a nasty drive from my place,” I grimaced.

“Mine too,” he shrugged, leaning against the door of his car with his hands in his pockets. “Their shakes are worth it though, trust me.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I should trust you,” I said, squinting at him. “You couldn’t even make 20 sales for me today.”

Trey rolled his eyes. “Yet you’re going out with me,” he shot back, raising his eyebrows.

I tried to smother the grin on my face. I shrugged.

“Consider yourself lucky, Parker,” I said innocently. “I’m not an easy catch.”

“Obviously,” he grumbled, smiling. He reached up to scratch his jaw, allowing me a brief moment to examine his hand. He had a short, wide palm with long, dainty fingers and rough cuticles. It looked like he picked at them.

“I’ll follow you. See you in a few,” I said, smiling. I started walking towards my car, turning around for a moment to yell at him. “And don’t speed!”

“I can’t help it, Y/N! My feet are made of lead!,” he shouted, defending himself.

I giggled, getting into my car. I turned the ignition, letting the car warm up for a moment while I checked myself in the mirror. My lips were chapped and my hair had gotten a little messy throughout the day. I was honestly too exhausted to give a shit, so I just let it down.

The drive was long. It was the middle of rush hour, so Trey and I ended up getting stuck in a traffic jam. We ended up side by side a number of times, challenging each other in our own lanes which were going two different speeds. Eventually, after almost 40 minutes, we made it, parking right next to each other. I put some chapstick on and took my blouse off, leaving my sweater on so that I was more comfortable. Trey was still in his work clothes; light blue shirt with rolled up sleeves, black tie, navy blue pants, brown belt and dark brown shoes. He wasn’t very coordinated.

“You drive like a senior citizen,” he said, grinning at me as I walked up to his side.

“You drive like a wanted criminal,” I shot back, turning around so I was walking backwards and facing him as he held the door open for me.

The dinner smelled like cake and coffee. It was slightly overwhelming, but not so much that I wouldn’t get used to it. The hostess led us to a small booth next to the window, giving us a quite lovely view of the highway outside. The sun had begun to set, so the sky was painted with the most gorgeous golden-orange you could get in Long Beach.

“I think I actually greatly prefer this over a bar,” Trey hummed, his eyes skimming over the menu while his hands rested in his lap.

I laughed softly, looking away from him. I took a sip from the iced water that the server brought to us not long after we sat down, the cold sending a shiver down my spine.

“Now that we’re finally here,” I huffed. “Why were you so desperate to take me out?”

Trey looked up, caught off guard. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink as he brought his hand up to scratch the back of his head.

“I enjoy your company,” he said softly. “And I’m attracted to you.”

“‘Cause I’m the funniest, coolest, sexiest girl you’ve ever met?” I teased him.

“Yup,” he grinned, biting his lip as the server came back over to our table.

I ordered a plain vanilla milkshake with no cherry and extra whipped cream, and Trey ordered the exact same thing. He really was so simple. I made fun of him for it.

“So what don’t I know about you?” Trey asked me, leaning over the table with his arms crossed.

“Not much, I imagine. You spend 3 out of 8 hours hanging around by my desk, so I can only assume you know me inside and out,” I stated, furrowing my eyebrows. “But I guess… you probably don’t know that I play guitar.”

“I did… not know that,” he said, raising his eyebrows. Trey leaned back, a soft smile on his face as we both spoke. He looked suspiciously satisfied, as if this was all going according to some massive plan of his. I decided to challenge his gaze with my own, equally mischievous one. I then realized that he was probably just admiring me.

“Come to think of it, what do you know about me?” I asked, resting my head in my palm. I snuck a glance at his neck, which had a healthy amount of stubble on it that spread up to his face as well. A day or two post-shave, maybe? Regardless, it looked good on him. He also had a lot of freckles and beauty marks all over his face and neck. Part of me wanted to spend time counting all of them.

“I know that you like pickles, but only by themselves. Same for black olives. Oh, and you can’t seem to sit normally in any capacity. You challenge the ergonomic designs of modern chairs and refuse to conform to corporate standards,” he listed, mocking me in the last bit of his sentence. I couldn’t help but laugh. “You hate mussels but somehow love asparagus. Beavers are your favorite animal. Um… I also know that you always have your hair up, ‘cause I’m a little bit stunned right now by the fact that it’s down.”

He laughed sheepishly with those last few words. I blushed. I forgot I let my hair down. It was wavy and unruly; I usually hated having it down, but it was starting to make my headache worse throughout the day, so I just wanted to feel more comfortable.

“It’s pretty,” he mumbled, swallowing. Trey seemed so nervous, delivering such a simple compliment. Simple, yet I too found myself made somewhat shy from his words. I guess I was just used to him being so unserious all the time. “You should wear it down more often.”

I laughed, rolling my eyes. The server came over with our shakes. The tall glasses were very elegant and very heavy. The straws were made of paper. I cringed, pulling mine out of the glass and opting for a spoon instead.

Trey looked at me like he was watching an ape pick its nose.

“I now know that you drink milkshakes with a spoon,” he teased me, his cheeks caving in as he attempted to suck his shake through the straw.

“At least spoons don’t dissolve,” I said, mocking him. Trey just kept laughing at me.

We spent a few moments in awkward silence, just enjoying our shakes. I tried to think of something to fill the quiet gap in the conversation, but I couldn’t come up with anything witty or funny, and it didn’t feel appropriate to give him a compliment.

Eventually, Trey spoke up, bringing up the last topic I would have ever wanted to discuss on a date. Work.

“Did Michelle clear you for a permanent position yet?” He asked me.

I sighed slightly, trying not to let it show.

“We’ve been talking about it. She’s just not sure where she’s gonna put me yet, but I still have like, two weeks, so… I’m not too worried,” I explained, avoiding his eyes.

“Maybe we’ll be desk neighbors,” he said, grinning.

“Ack,” I gagged, teasing him. To be completely honest, that didn’t sound too bad. Granted, he would probably get even less work done if he were always right next to me. He’d be too busy showing off, and I’d be so distracted that I wouldn’t get any work done either.

“Hey, c’mon,” he laughed. “You know I’m your best friend in the office.”

“Yeah. My ‘friend,’” I repeated, doing air quotes with my fingers.

“What, you don’t like me?” he pouted.

“We’re on a date, Trey. Of course I don’t like you,” I said. I was being sarcastic, but I held no sarcastic tone in my words. He had to have realized that I was joking… right?

Trey’s eyes shot wide open, his lips curling into a smirk as his cheeks turned red. “So we’re dating?” he said, dragging out the last word as if he were a teenage girl. He grinned, taking another strangled sip of his milkshake.

I shrugged, sticking the end of my spoon all the way in my mouth so I could lick it clean.

Trey leaned back, a small smile on his face as he stared at his lap. I watched him pull himself together, biting my own lip. Seeing him happy and giddy made me feel happy and giddy too.

After about an hour, we finished our shakes, and just sat in our little booth, talking. I learned that he had a cat named Jake and that he studied film in college, and even directed a few until he ran out of money and had to get a more permanent job. He explained that since he started working at the company, he didn’t have much time at all to do anything film related. I felt bad; I could see the way his eyes lit up when he was talking about working in film.

“You should show me what you’ve made sometime,” I said, playing with the little bit of ice cream left in the bottom of my glass. A majority of the other customers had left, leaving the diner much quieter than it had been just a few minutes ago. Now it was just me and Trey, some elderly women in the corner, and a group of teenagers on the other side of the restaurant

“Mmm. Maybe,” he hummed, cringing.

“What, you don’t like it?” I asked.

“It’s just like, not great,” he laughed. “It’s as good as college films get, I guess. It could be better.”

“I’m sure it’s awesome, Trey. You’re a funny guy,” I said, reaching across the table to brush his fingers with mine.

Never, since I first met him a month ago, had I ever called him by his first name. I never felt the need to, until now. I guess it just felt right.

Trey looked absolutely stunned and speechless at the contact, his eyes staring straight into mine. I felt one of his fingers stroke the top of my hand. My stomach fluttered, his touch gentle and soothing.

I let go of his hand as the server came back over with our check. Trey and I looked at each other, before my hand shot forward to grab the little booklet before he could even blink.

“No,” he said, grabbing it.

“Yes,” I grinned, yanking it away from him. He looked at me, pouting.

“Let’s at least split it,” he pleaded. “Or let me pay you back.”

“Not necessary,” I said, shaking my head. I pulled my card out of my wallet, sticking it in the check and setting it on the edge of the table. “You can just pay for our next date.”

I smiled at him, watching his face turn from defeated to somewhat shocked. I suppose our date went a lot better than he thought it would.

I really did like him. To be honest, I was completely flustered when he asked me out the first time. I just didn’t want to give in so easily. Plus I had only been working there for a week at the time, so I barely knew him, but after the first time he asked me, we started hanging out more, and he kept asking me out. I could tell he really liked me too.

I sorted everything out, and once we went outside, we ended up lingering outside of our cars, still talking. The sounds of the highway nearby provided some pleasant atmospheric noise, making it infinitely less awkward than it was inside.

“Are you free tomorrow?” I asked, my arms crossed over my chest. Trey still had his work clothes on, having taken his necktie off and unbuttoned one or two buttons on his dress shirt so he could breathe. He had a white V-neck T-shirt on underneath, and I was able to see his collarbone and some of his chest hair sticking out of the collar.

Trey shook his head. “Lakers play tomorrow night. I’m having friends over, if you wanna come. I’m just not going out,” he laughed sheepishly.

“Hmm… Maybe. Actually, yeah. That sounds cool,” I beamed. I wanted to meet his friends. He told me he met them all in college and from what I heard, they seemed like a lot of fun to be around. I also secretly wanted him to introduce me to his friends and brag about me when I wasn’t looking.

“Cool,” he grinned. His eyes skimmed up and down my frame, before landing at his feet as he seemed to be at a loss for words.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” I said softly, brushing his hand with my fingers. He looked at me, swallowing harshly. His eyes darted all around my face, leaving an extra long glance at my lips.

“The usual? Green tea?” he asked. His eyelids had dropped, making him look unusually sleepy. He had a dumb smirk on his face.

“You got it,” I said, clicking my tongue and winking.

“‘Kay,” he laughed. He turned his body to the side, beginning to walk away from me. “See you.”

“Wait a second,” I said, raising my voice slightly. My words echoed through the dark, empty parking lot, the sound bouncing back to me as my hand grabbed Trey’s forearm.

He turned back to face me, looking at me patiently. I grabbed his other arm, pulling him closer before standing up on my tiptoes to peck him on the lips.

Trey leaned into it, until I pulled away, keeping my face close to his. I looked up at him through my eyelashes, staring into his blue eyes as they searched my face for any sign of uncertainty or regret. After a moment, he kissed me again, tenderly to test the waters. His lips felt so soft and warm, laid gently between mine. It was the perfect kiss.

By the time we pulled away naturally, one of his hands had found its way to the small of my back, laying flat against it and holding my body close to him until I dropped down from my tiptoes. I slid out of his grasp, taking steps backward towards my car, unable to control the grin on my face.

“Night, Trey,” I said.

Trey grinned, shaking his head slightly. “Night, Y/N,” he replied, watching as I got back into my car.

Before closing the door, I leaned forward and yelled, “You better make at least 60 sales tomorrow!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled, unlocking his car.

And with that, I went home, barely able to think about driving while my mind was so caught up on Trey and I’s kiss. I kept thinking that maybe I made a mistake, since it was only our first date, but it just felt right. Besides, it’s not like we don’t see each other eight hours a day, five days a week.

Regardless, I was looking forward to going to work the next day for the first time in my entire life.

I don’t think I’d ever been so excited to watch a basketball game, either.

#fun little office au thing #i wrote this in like 2 hours #trey parker x reader #trey parker #x reader #fem reader #fanfiction #fluff #matt stone #baseketball #smut #cannibal the musical #mattrey

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all-the-things-2020 · 3 months

Text

Late Night Talking - Chapter Seven

Summary: Emily goes back to work and Dieter comes to spend the weekend. Chaos ensues.

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 6780+

Tag list: @rhoorl @avastrasposts @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @gwendibleywrites

The first day back on campus was always full of boring staff meetings and, for those of us in the library and textbook room, a daylong parade of teachers with requests for books. It was exhausting but gave us a chance to catch up with everyone. It also meant the Nosy Parkers were out in force, sniffing out the best gossip to spread around campus. Who went where on vacation, who didn’t go anywhere, who got married or engaged, who got pregnant, etc. I knew that it wouldn’t be long before word got around that I was dating someone; I was friends on Facebook with a few of my coworkers, and although I hadn’t posted many clear photos of Dieter or mentioned his name, I had made a few posts referring to “my boyfriend.”

As I settled into a seat in the auditorium for the all staff kickoff meeting, I was simultaneously distracted by my phone buzzing in my pocket and my least favorite coworker, Eileen, latching onto my arm. She was nearing retirement age and every year the rumor went around that she wasn’t coming back in the fall, but every year, there she was.

“How are you, sweetie?,” she asked. “Did you have a good summer?” I could tell that she’d already heard something from the way she smiled so insincerely.

“I’m good. Summer was good,” I replied, digging my phone out. “Excuse me, let me check this.”

As I suspected, it was a text from Dieter

DIETER: Happy 1st day back. Break a leg or whatever you say for luck in a library. Break a spine??

I was surprised he was up so early. He must have set his alarm so he could text me. I smiled to myself and texted back.

ME: Weirdo. Just starting all staff meeting aka most boring two hours of my life. Talk to u later, k?

I put my phone back in my pocket and reluctantly turned to Eileen. Before she could open her mouth, my phone buzzed again and I pulled it back out, mouthing “sorry” at her.

It was a video of a duck with cartoon arms running around a dog.

DIETER: If meeting gets too boring watch this.

He added several smiley face emojis, a dog, a duck, and his favorite, the grinning purple devil. I shook my head.

“Bad news?” Eileen pounced on the slightest whiff of intrigue or gossip.

“No, just a dumb video my boyfriend sent me,” I said without thinking. Oops.

“Boyfriend? Really? Congratulations!” She sounded sincere, but I’d endured enough snide remarks over the years about my single state to know that she was inwardly lamenting the loss of something to pester me about.

“Yeah,” I said off handedly. “We met this summer. Oh, there’s the principal. Meeting’s about to start.” I had never been happier to see Dr. Osuna climb the steps to the stage and make her way behind the beat up old podium that had been used by every principal since the school’s founding over 60 years ago.

As various administrators droned on about vision and aiming for lofty goals and hitting our target numbers, I surreptitiously peeked at my phone, which kept buzzing. Dieter was sending me GIFs and cartoons and video clips about surviving meetings, and more birds with arms, which he’d found out never failed to make me laugh. Finally, I texted him back.

ME: Stop. People are staring at me. Supposed to be paying attention like a good little drone.

Truthfully, no one was paying any attention to me except Eileen. Everyone was either on their own phones, ignoring admin completely, or pretending to be captivated by every word. Some teachers were even taking notes, but they were just trying to score brownie points. Eileen, however, was watching me like a hawk, a small frown on her face. She was the sort of employee who was more concerned about keeping track of everyone else and making sure they weren’t slacking off than in doing her own job. Unfortunately, she was also very efficient and had no problem doing her own job and sticking her nose in everyone else’s business.

The meeting finally ended and I made sure to hop up quickly and head out of the auditorium before Eileen could corner me again. It was only a temporary reprieve, since her office was located inside the library building, but I’d take what I could get.

“Emily!” I stopped on my way out of the auditorium lobby to let the speaker catch up. It was Simone, my favorite English teacher. She was a huge book nerd and was our number one customer in the library. “Girl, slow down!”

“Sorry, friend,” I told her. “I was trying to get away from you-know-who.”

She nodded knowingly. “Gotcha,” she said. When she’d caught up, she steered me out a side door, which meant we’d take the long way to the library. Eileen would make a beeline for her office so she could have a front row seat for the parade of teachers, so there was little chance of running into her as we walked.

Simone gave me a look and nudged my shoulder with hers. “So …,” she said. “Who’s the guy?” She was friends with me on Facebook, and she’d liked several of my posts over the summer. “And why haven’t you posted very many pics? Dude is hot!”

I stopped walking and took a deep breath. Part of me didn’t want to say a thing, and another part (the part that had never really left high school) wanted to squeal and show her the approximately seventeen thousand photos of Dieter on my phone and brag about how I was dating a freaking movie star.

“His name is Dieter,” I said. “We met at a bookstore in L.A. back in June.”

“Dieter? Unusual name.” Simone prompted. “What does he do? Where does he live? Come on, I need details!”

I pulled out my phone. “He’s an actor. And he lives in L.A. so it’s kind of a long distance thing.”

“A real actor or one of those waiters who says he’s an actor but never actually does anything,” she asked, her head tilted to one side. I remembered her talking once about a guy she dated right after college who claimed to be an actor but really waited tables at an Applebee’s in Burbank and tried to slip headshots to studio execs.

“A real actor,” I said proudly. “He hasn’t waited tables in years.” I laughed as I opened up my photo gallery and pulled up the most recent picture. Dieter was leaning toward me across the table at a little bistro we’d had lunch at on Saturday. His hair was messy, as usual when he didn’t have a stylist to tame it, and he was wearing an old t-shirt that had a small hole near the collar. But he was giving me one of those smoldering looks that could so easily turn into a goofy face or lead to a passionate kiss, depending on his mood.

“Whew!” Simone said, fanning herself. “I can see why you want to hide him. Post too many pics like that and everyone will be crawling out the woodwork to try to steal him.”

“What you looking at?” It was Tyler, another of my favorite teachers. He also taught English and I’d gone to happy hour a few times with him and his wife, who was a graphic artist who dreamed of writing a graphic novel someday. She was also a big sci fi nerd, just like Tyler. He was more into Star Wars, while Sofia was more into Star Trek, but they loved both.

Tyler peeked over my shoulder at the phone. “Oh, hey, good taste,” he said. “Sof is crazy about him, too.”

Simone frowned. “How does Sof know Emily’s boyfriend?”

Tyler laughed. “That’s the guy from Cliff Beasts 6,” he said. “Dieter Bravo, right?”

Simone’s eyes got huge and she smacked my arm. “Get out! You couldn’t lead with that?”

Now Tyler’s eyes got wide. “Are you shitting me? You know him?”

I felt my face go hot. “Um, yeah,” I stumbled. “We’ve been dating for about two months.”

Tyler got a goofy grin on his face. “This is the mysterious boyfriend you mentioned on Facebook? Oh, Sof is going to freak out. Wait until I tell her you’re fucking Dieter Bravo.” He froze. “You are fucking him, right? I mean … two months …”

Now I was mortified but also secretly pleased. “Yes, Tyler, not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I am sleeping with my boyfriend,” I said after I’d regained a bit of composure..

“Well, you are now officially the coolest person I’ve ever met,” Tyler said. “And you’ve gotten me a couple of degrees closer to George Lucas.” He winked. He’d once told an entire bar that he was only four degrees removed from the creator of Star Wars because he was cousins with someone who worked with a guy who did electrical work on the set for Empire Strikes Back and had taken his orders from a guy who got his orders from an assistant director who reported directly to Lucas. “I mean, you’re sleeping with a guy who did a movie with Darren Eigan, who interned with George.”

Simone rolled her eyes. “You are so weird,” she said. Simone was more into historical fiction, mysteries, and thrillers than sci fi and fantasy, but I knew she had a soft spot in her heart for the Lord of the Rings films and had admitted to watching Game of Thrones, although she hadn’t read the books. “But seriously, Emily, I’m happy for you.” She glanced at her watch. “Oops, department meeting in five minutes. I’d better hit the bathroom. Talk to you later!”

She and Tyler hurried away toward their building and I headed for the library building. Time to face Eileen’s interrogation.

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

By the time I got home, I was mentally exhausted. I’d managed to dodge most of Eileen’s questions, giving her only the basics: I was dating a guy who lived in L.A., we’d met over the summer, he worked in the entertainment industry. She’d find out the rest of the details eventually, but I decided to make her work for them.

I spent the day reconfiguring the textbook checkout schedule as teachers changed their minds about which books they needed and which days they wanted to bring their students for checkout. The spreadsheet was morphing into monstrous proportions by the end of the day, but our textbook clerk wasn’t as proficient in Excel as I was (which wasn’t saying much) so the task always ended up in my lap.

I got home, kicked off my shoes, put my hair in a messy ponytail and poured myself a glass of wine. Normally, I waited until Fridays to indulge, but the first day back was always an exception. As I flipped through my mail (all junk, of course) my phone buzzed on the coffee table.

“Hey,” I said as I swiped to answer.

“Hey,” Dieter said. “I take it you survived.” He chuckled. I’d texted him at one point lamenting the brain cells I was losing trying to juggle the schedule.

“Barely,” I said. “Thank goodness for wine.”

I settled back against the couch cushions and told him about my day. It was weird, after being off work all summer, to not only be back in my normal routine, but sharing it with Dieter. So far our relationship had been very relaxed and I was still afraid that it would end up just being a summer fling, once the responsibilities of work and life started to assert themselves.

“I wish I was there to give you a back rub,” he said when I’d finished venting. “Or foot rub, or whatever’s hurting you rub.” He sighed. “I have an interview at two on Friday but I’m heading out as soon as it’s over.” We’d agreed to alternate weekends; this would be the first time he was coming to my place, and I felt a frisson of fear and excitement. I’d been at his house so much over the summer, mostly because there was nothing interesting to do in my neck of the woods, but partly because I was hesitant to bring him to my modest condo.

“Are you sure you don’t mind driving out here on a Friday night?” I asked. “The traffic will be horrible. You could wait and come out Saturday morning.”

“No!,” he said immediately. “I want every minute I can get with you.”

I smiled and sat my wineglass down. I curled up with the phone. “That’s sweet,” I said.

“It’s the truth,” he said softly, his voice dropping to a sexy growl. If we’d been in the same room, this was about the time he’d slide an arm around me and lean in for the first of many, many kisses. “I can’t believe how much I miss you, and I saw you yesterday.” Then he proceeded to tell me exactly how much he missed me, and what he planned to do when he saw me on Friday. Needless to say, I didn’t get around to fixing myself some dinner until much, much later than I’d planned.

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

Friday finally arrived. I was completely exhausted by the time I got home. I knew it would be another couple of hours before Dieter arrived, and I told myself I was just going to sit down for a few minutes to rest before I cleaned up the place. The first week back was always hectic and I hadn’t done any household chores all week, except for a quick sweep of the kitchen floor after I spilled a box of rice on Wednesday night.

I slipped my shoes off, sat down on the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table. “Just five minutes,” I told myself as I closed my eyes.

The next thing I knew, there was a knock at the door and I bolted upright, drool dripping from the corner of my mouth. “Shit, shit, shit,” I mumbled as I lurched to my feet. I hoped my face didn’t have creases on it from being smashed into the couch cushion but I didn’t have time to worry about it as I fumbled with the deadbolt and pulled the door open.

Dieter stood on the doorstep, overnight bag slung over his shoulder and a bottle of something in his hand. He broke into a huge grin and threw his arms around me. “You weren’t kidding about the traffic,” he said into my hair. “Fuck, that was a mess.” He pulled back enough to kiss me on the lips, then hugged me tight again.

“Come in, come in,” I said, when he’d loosened his grip a bit. “Sorry the place is a mess, I fell asleep when I got home.”

He made an “are you kidding?” face and dropped his bag next to the couch. “It looks great,” he said kindly. “And I’m sure you were tired after such a busy week.” He sat the bottle on the coffee table and I could see the label. It was a top shelf brand of tequila. He shrugged as he saw me looking at it. “A friend gave it to me and I thought we could toast your first week back at work. Or get drunk enough that you forget all about it, depending on how bad it was.”

He plopped onto the couch and pulled me down beside him. “This was the longest week ever,” he said as he slid his arms around me and started nuzzling my neck.

“Tell me about it,” I said, playing with his hair. “But at least this year I had you to look forward to at the end of it.” He hummed in agreement and we stopped talking for quite a while.

Eventually, though, my stomach growled. Our lunch break during textbook checkouts was ridiculously early so we could deal with the hordes of students who stopped by on their lunch break to pick up books they’d forgotten to get earlier in the week.

“Okay,” Dieter said. “The stomach has spoken. What shall we have for dinner? Any good restaurants around here that deliver?”

Now I was really embarrassed. “Not really,” I admitted. “Mostly fast food and a few chain restaurants out by the mall. Um, there’s a nice deli near the grocery store I go to, but I think they might be closed already.” I glanced at the clock on my wall and sure enough, it was well after six o’clock.

“I did see an In-n-Out from the freeway a few exits back,” Dieter said hesitantly. I had already teased him at least once about his seeming addiction to Double Doubles and animal style fries.

“There’s one about five minutes from here, actually,” I said. “That’s one decent thing around here. Come on.” I stood up, adjusted my disheveled blouse and held out my hand. I grabbed my purse, dug out my keys and led Dieter outside to my car.

Ten minutes later, we were in line at the drive through at my local In-n-Out. As usual, it was packed, with both order lanes practically out of the parking lot and threatening to spill onto the street. Still, it had a much bigger lot than the one near Dieter’s house and no cars were actually blocking traffic.

I pulled into the lane that went on the left hand side of the building, since I had a passenger. It was usually a bit shorter than the other one, since anyone driving alone had to use the other lane. Still, there were several cars ahead of us as the order taker bounced back and forth between both lanes, tapping away at his tablet.

“Let me guess,” I said. “Double Double and animal style fries, right?”

Dieter arched an eyebrow at me. “Actually, no,” he said primly. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

When the order taker got to us, he came up on Dieter’s side. “Double Double animal style,” Dieter said. “Cheeseburger, grilled onions. Two orders of fries.” He turned to me smugly. “What do you want to drink, babe?”

“Iced tea,” I said.

He shook his head. “Regular iced tea and a chocolate shake,” he said, completing our order. After the order taker read it back, I put the window back up and poked Dieter in the side.

“I knew it,” I said.

“What?,” he said innocently. “You said a Double Double and animal style fries. I ordered regular fries and an animal style burger. That’s totally different.”

Now it was my turn to shake my head. “Still.”

He shrugged. “They have like two things on the menu, there’s not much room for variation.”

He insisted on paying at the window, much to the delight of the girl working the register, who clearly recognized him and giggled a little when he handed her a twenty. She very carefully placed his change in his hand, letting her fingers linger just a bit too long.

“Stop flirting,” I stage-whispered at him while we were waiting for the food to come up.

“I’m not flirting,” he said. “I’m just being polite. She’s the one who's flirting.”

I shook my head. “You just want extra ketchup packets,” I said. “You’re such an In-n-Out whore.”

“I admit it,” he said proudly. Just then, the window opened back up and the girl handed out our drinks, followed by an iconic white bag.

“Have a great evening!,” she said.

“Thank you, you too!” Dieter said. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he’d winked at her because she giggled again.

I smacked his arm as I pulled away. “Behave yourself,” I said, “or you’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

He was busy peering into the bag. “Ha, it was worth it. She gave us ten ketchups.” He pulled out a few fries and shoved them in his mouth. He turned to me with them hanging from his lips. “Wan’ som’?,” he mumbled.

“Of course,” I said. I opened my mouth and he carefully placed a couple of fries between my lips. “Oh, yeah, that’s the ticket,” I moaned as the crispy potatoes hit my tongue. I was a bit of an In-n-Out whore myself.

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

We ate at my dining table, leaving behind a mess of burger wrappers, crumpled napkins and empty ketchup packets. I scooped it all up into the bag and shoved it into my trash can, which was already full and needed to be taken out to the garbage bin, but I was too tired to do it that night. I just pushed it down enough for the lid to close and walked away. I’d deal with it in the morning.

We retired to the couch, where Dieter started scrolling through the cable guide. “Um, is this all the channels you get?,” he asked. When I nodded, he gave me a scandalized look. “No HBO? No Netflix?”

“No, just basic cable,” I said, taking the remote away from him. “I don’t watch a whole lot of TV during the week and if I want movies, I have some DVDs.” I waved the remote vaguely at the cabinet next to the TV stand. Dieter got up and opened the door, staring into it like it was a fridge and he was looking for a snack. Finally, he turned back to me.

“Your selection of films leaves much to be desired,” he said solemnly.

I’d figured as much. He had an extensive DVD collection as well as several streaming subscriptions. My meager collection of favorite rom-coms and musicals, with a sprinkling of sci fi and fantasy (I had the original Star Wars trilogy and the Lord of the Rings extended editions) was severely lacking in comparison.

“Sorry,” I said. “Next time you come over, bring some DVDs.” He sat back down next to me and took the remote back. He scrolled through the channel guide again, finally settling on an obscure film noir on one of the classic movie channels. I snuggled up against his side, only half paying attention to the film. I was still tired, despite my nap, and had a full stomach. My eyes slowly drifted shut.

I woke up to the sound of Dieter’s soft laughter. “You were snoring,” he said quietly when I looked up at him. “Maybe we should go to bed.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, yawning. “I’m not much fun right now, am I?”

“It’s okay,” he said. “We’ve got the whole weekend.” He hugged me close and kissed the top of my head.

“You can stay up and watch TV if you want,” I said. It was barely eight thirty and I knew he was used to going to bed much later than that.

“Nah,” he said, clicking the television off. “Not much on anyway.” He smirked and I swatted at him.

“Jerk,” I said. “Making fun of my cable selection. Not all of us have Hollywood money to finance our movie obsession.” I tempered my words with a kiss pressed against the grey spot in his patchy beard.

I got up and headed for the bedroom before he could respond. I grabbed my nightshirt from the dresser and went into the bathroom to change. When I came out, Dieter was already in the bedroom, getting undressed. Unlike me, he had no qualms about removing his clothes in front of me. I busied myself turning down the bed, which I’d made up with fresh sheets that morning, even though it had made me ten minutes late for work. Dieter had a lovely, comfortable king size bed, while mine was a serviceable full size, big enough for two people, but just barely.

“Ahh,” he said as he slid under the covers clad only in a clean pair of boxers. “Nothing better than fresh sheets, am I right?”

I slipped in beside him and turned off the bedside lamp. “Especially when you’ve just shaved your legs,” I said.

“Well, I’ll take your word for that,” he said with a laugh. He pulled me close and slid one foot up and down my calf. “But it does feel nice to me.” His hand began to trace patterns on my thigh, creeping slowly up toward my panties. His other hand cupped the back of my head and he began to kiss me gently but urgently.

After a few minutes, he stopped. “You’re not really into it this evening are you?,” he asked. It was true; I was not very enthusiastic in my responses but I was willing to keep going for his sake.

“No, it’s okay,” I said. I ran my hand through his hair and pulled his face close, kissing him deeply.

“No, it’s not,” he said when I pulled back. “You’re tired. We can just go to sleep.”

“I told you to just wait and come in the morning,” I said, feeling miserable. “You drove all that way in horrible traffic for nothing.”

“Not for nothing,” he said. “We’ve had several hours together already. And I got In-n-Out. I think that’s worth the drive.” He kissed my forehead. “We’ve got the whole weekend to fool around. Don’t feel bad. I’d never want you to just go through the motions because you feel like you owe me.” He rubbed his hand up and down my back. “Just relax and get some rest, okay?”

I nodded against his chest, my head tucked under his chin. “Okay,” I said. “But I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night.”

“You’d better,” he teased, his hand sliding down to gently cup my ass. It was still there when I fell asleep a few minutes later. Maybe sharing a full sized bed instead of a king wasn’t so bad after all.

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

I woke up slightly disoriented. For one thing, it was nearly nine thirty, and the sunlight was streaming through a gap in the curtains, hitting me right in the eye. For another, there was something heavy squashing me into the mattress.

I squirmed out from underneath Dieter, who was face down, sprawled across three quarters of the bed, and snoring softly. “Whatsit,” he muttered as I slipped out from under the sheets.

”Morning,” I replied. “Gotta pee.”

“What time’s it?,” he sighed.

“Nine twenty six.”

”Shit. Gotta get up then.” Dieter had an unspoken rule. Despite his love of sleeping in, he had to be up by nine forty five or the day was shot. Even if he’d been out until three the night before, if he wasn’t up and dressed (approximately) before ten am he felt like a failure.

”You’ve got a few minutes,” I said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “I’ll run to Starbucks and get you some coffee as soon as I get dressed. Breakfast, too.”

I didn’t drink much coffee and so didn’t own a coffee maker. Fortunately, like most places in the free world, there was a Starbucks roughly every three blocks even out here in the IE, and I knew of at least five within a ten minute drive of my house. One was even close enough to walk to, except Dieter was in no position to walk any further than the bathroom without a caffeine infusion.

Dieter mumbled something that could have been “thank you” or possibly “fuck you” — it was hard to tell with his morning incoherence. Whether he was thanking me for braving the world or cursing me for not owning an espresso machine was a toss of the coin. Either way, he’d forget all about it by the time I got back.

I threw on some shorts and a tank top. August was brutal and with the sun already up, I knew it would be at least 80 degrees outside, if not hotter. “You want hot or iced?” I asked, poking my head into the bedroom before I left.

Dieter made a vague waving motion with his hand. “I need more than that,” I said.

“Hot,” Dieter said through the pillow. “No, wait.” He rolled halfway over. “ S’August, right? Cold.”

By the time I’d driven to Starbucks, ordered his four shots of espresso over ice, my iced tea and two breakfast sandwiches, and returned home, Dieter had managed to put on a t-shirt and stagger out to the couch. His hair stood up in all directions and his eyes were barely open, but at least he was sitting up.

”Give,” he said, reaching out for the coffee. He’d downed a third of it by the time I handed him his sandwich. “Thank you,” he said. “The elixir of life.”

It was strange to be sitting on my couch, in my living room, with Dieter beside me. Saturday mornings were normally my alone time. After a long week at work, they were my quiet bubble of peace, before I started running errands and doing chores I hadn’t had time for during the week. My routine was completely shattered and I didn’t know what to do.

”Um,” I said, after I’d eaten about half my sandwich. “So, what do you want to do today? I usually do my shopping and stuff on Saturdays, but I can put it off until after you leave tomorrow. I don’t want to bore you.”

Dieter took a long sip of coffee. “Whatever,” he said, which wasn’t helpful at all. “It’s gonna be hot, so maybe we could stay in? Watch a movie? Fool around?” He raised an eyebrow suggestively, which would have been hot if his hair hadn’t been doing the Alfalfa thing.

”Netflix and chill, except without the Netflix,” I mused. “Sounds good to me.” I ran my hand over his head. “But you need to at least brush your hair first. Kind of hard to get turned on when you look like a giant toddler.”

”This giant toddler is going to rock your world,” he growled. When I didn’t respond, his face fell. “Too weird?”

”Extremely weird,” I replied. “Even for you, Deet. Please cross ‘giant toddler’ off the list of fantasies you have in your head.”

”Done,” he said.

“And brush your teeth before you kiss me, Coffee Breath.”

He groaned and collapsed against the cushions. “Too many rules! Comb your hair, brush your teeth … I thought you were fun.”

“I am fun. I’m also a grown-ass person and I have minimum standards of hygiene.”

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

Sex with Dieter was … interesting. He was vastly more experienced than I was — I suspect he’d been with more men than I had — but he was the king of consent. He asked permission before doing anything, even if we’d done it before. And he was surprisingly polite. “Oops, sorry,” was more frequently said in his bed than any other phrase.

“I’m not a porcelain vase,” I told him when he apologized for gripping me a little too tight. “I won’t break.”

”But I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose. “I never ever want to hurt you.”

”Believe me, if you hurt me, you’ll know,” I assured him. “I won’t hesitate to scream.”

He arched his brow. “The only thing I want you screaming is my name.” He burrowed his face into my throat and peppered me with kisses.

Then the smoke detector peeped.

”What the fuck?” Dieter’s head popped up.

I sighed. “Smoke alarm. It wants its battery changed.” I had a running feud with the unit. I invariably decided its battery was too old in the middle of the night, and because it was located about a foot away from the bed, that meant I had to drag out my step stool in order to access it. The step stool that lived in the closet next to the kitchen.

I slid out of bed, grabbing my robe off the floor. “I’ll be right back,” I said. “There’s a new battery in the drawer of the nightstand. I’m going to get the step stool.”

”I might be able to reach it …” Dieter was saying as I left the bedroom. He was tall but he wasn’t tall enough to reach the alarm without assistance, so I continued toward the kitchen, rooted around in the closet and pulled out the step stool.

I returned to the bedroom just in time to see a naked Dieter teetering on the edge of the bed, his fingertips almost reaching the smoke alarm. “Be careful!” I cried.

”I’m fine,” he said. “Just need to get a little bit closer …” His foot inched toward the edge of the mattress and it all happened in slow motion. The mattress gave way, he lost his balance and fell, hitting the nightstand on the way down. The lamp fell with him and its glass base shattered. Then Dieter landed on top of it.

”Shit!,” he yelled, as time returned to normal speed. “My ass!” A shard of glass was embedded in the muscle of his right butt cheek.

“Don’t panic,” I said, my heart racing. I wasn’t entirely sure if I was talking to him or myself. “It doesn’t look too bad …”

Dieter pulled the glass out of his flesh and it started to bleed. A lot. “It hurts, Em. Oh, shit, it hurts.”

I grabbed the first thing I could find — his dirty t shirt — and pressed it firmly against his butt to stop the bleeding. “I think … I think we need to go to the emergency room,” I said. “It might need stitches.”

”No way,” he said through gritted teeth. “I am not going to the ER. Last thing I need is word getting out that Dieter Bravo went to the hospital because he had something stuck in his ass.”

”You’re bleeding, Deet,” I said. “And that gash is pretty deep.” I peeked under the wadded up t shirt. “I don’t think it’ll close up without stitches.”

”Shit, shit, shit,” he said. “Okay, but I’m using a fake name.”

”Your insurance card has your real name on it,” I reminded him, as I helped him off the floor. He grimaced in pain as he sat gingerly on the bed. “Let’s get some clothes on you and I’ll take you to the hospital.”

The ER was packed because it was a Saturday night. I tried to explain to the nurse at the desk that Dieter was bleeding, in pain, and didn’t want to be recognized, but he simply shrugged and said, “We have to triage everyone based on the severity of their injury. We’ll get to him as fast as we can.”

Dieter was whisked into a back room for vitals and then sent back out to the waiting room with me. “My butt hurts,” he whispered in my ear as he sat carefully in the chair next to me.

“Duh,” I replied. “Try not to think about it.” I looked around the room. There were several people with bloody rags and bandages pressed to various bits of their anatomy, but Dieter seemed to be the only one with an injury to his bottom, except possibly the guy who kept running urgently to the restroom.

”It’s throbbing,” he said, pulling his ball cap further down onto his forehead. He was also wearing sunglasses, which only made him stand out further considering it was after midnight.

”I can’t kiss it and make it better,” I told him. “I wish I could.”

He snorted. “You just admitted you want to kiss my ass,” he said. At least his sense of humor was still intact.

“Who doesn’t?” I teased back. “You’re Dieter fucking Bravo.”

Fortunately, no one recognized him (or at least, no one acted on it if they did) and we only had to wait about forty minutes before a nurse called him into the back.

”Can she come with?,” he asked.

”Of course,” the nurse said. “Right this way.”

We were led to a curtained off bed tucked in a corner of a busy room. People were moaning and cursing and crying, some tucked behind curtains, others slumped in wheelchairs. Dieter winced. “I hate hospitals,” he whispered.

”So do I.” I’d spent far too much time in them when my parents were ill, and the memories were always lurking just beneath the surface. I focused on Dieter and willed my stomach to unclench.

A doctor breezed in and quickly examined Dieter. “Ooh, nasty laceration there,” he said. “But we’ll get it cleaned up and stitched in no time. It should heal up easily. You might have a scar but who’s going to see it?”

”She will,” Dieter said, nodding toward me. “And maybe the whole world if I have to do a nude scene.”

The doctor tilted his head and frowned, then it hit him. “Oh, you’re that Mr. Bravo. Wow. Wouldn’t have expected to see you around here.”

”Girlfriend,” Dieter said, wincing as the doctor dabbed at the wound with antiseptic. “Lives. Near. Here.”

“And it says you fell on a broken lamp?”

Dieter groaned, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t because of his injury. This doctor was going to have a great story to share with his friends and colleagues — and possibly the gossip websites.

”Look, I was trying to change the battery in a smoke alarm. I fell off the bed, broke the lamp, landed on it. Please, don’t spread it around. I feel like an idiot.” Dieter gave the doctor his best puppy dog eyes.

”I’ve seen weirder stuff,” the doctor said, preparing a hypodermic needle of local anesthetic. He jabbed it into Dieter’s butt. “I could tell you stories … but that would be unethical. And I won’t tell yours, either.” He patted Dieter’s rump. “Give that a moment to kick in and I’ll start stitching.”

I held Dieter’s hand as he laid on the bed, grunting now and then as the sutures tugged at his skin. “This is humiliating,” he muttered.

“It’s character building,” I said, squeezing his hand. “You’ll be a better man after this.”

He squinted at me. “How could I possibly be better than I am right now?”

”Maybe the doctor can trim your ego while he’s at it,” I shot back.

”I hate you,” Dieter said.

“No, you don’t,” I said. “You’re just in pain. A pain in the butt.”

”Literally,” he said, wincing as the doctor tied off the last stitch.

”There you go,” the doctor said. “The local will wear off in a bit, but we’ll get you some pain killers so you’ll be more comfortable.”

Dieter bit at his lower lip and shot me a look.

“Um, maybe we can just do something over the counter?” I asked.

“I’ve been in rehab,” Dieter blurted out. “I don’t want narcotics if I don’t have to.”

The doctor nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll give you a shot of toradol and you can use Motrin or Tylenol once that wears off. And stop by the pharmacy to get one of those donut pillows. Then you can sit without putting direct pressure on the wound. You’ll be fine in a few days, a week at most. Check in with your primary care physician as soon as you can, and make an appointment to get the stitches removed in about ten days.”

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

By the time we got home from the hospital, it was close to 2 am. I helped Dieter out of the car and back to the bedroom. “Sorry about all this,” he said as he got undressed.

”It’s okay,” I said. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, but this hasn’t turned out to be the romantic weekend we thought it would be.”

“It’s okay,” I repeated, not sure what else to say. The weekend had turned into a bit of a shit show, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just bad luck. I got him into bed and then fetched a dustpan and broom to sweep up the shards of broken lamp that still littered the floor. Thank goodness I didn’t have carpeting, or it would have taken me much longer to clean up.

Dieter was dozing off by the time I changed back into my night shirt and crawled in beside him. “Thanks for taking care of me,” he said sleepily.

”Of course,” I said, snuggling against him. He was lying on his left side, facing me. His breath was warm on my face. “What did you expect me to do, dump you off at the ER?” I was teasing, but he was serious.

”No, I mean it,” he said. “Thanks for not complaining about having to drive me there, being up late, cleaning up the mess … I really appreciate it.” He kissed my nose and then pressed his forehead against mine. “It’s nice.”

I knew a little bit about his past. I figured this had something to do with his mother. He’d alluded to her being a bit aloof. She wasn’t a very nurturing mother, from what I’d gathered. I could imagine her complaining about having to drive her son to the hospital.

”You’re welcome,” I said. “Now get some rest. Your body needs to heal.”

”I broke my butt,” he said, laughing gently. “My butt needs to heal.”

”Poor broke-butt man,” I said. “Go to sleep.”

”Yes, ma’am,” he mumbled, nuzzling against my neck.

As he fell asleep, the thought came into my head like a bolt of lightning. I love him. I ran my fingers through his hair, relishing the feel of his silky locks against my skin. I love this man. I wondered if he loved me, too.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x ofc #the bubble fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fluff #late night talking

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rom-e-o · 8 months

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Among the Leaves (NSFW)(Constance/Ebenezer fic)

Fall is here. A themed drabble is in order.

Ebenezer takes his first ever 'holiday' off of work and goes to the English countryside with Constance. Without the prying eyes of coworkers and family, the two use the opportunity to catch up on quality time.

This is an explicit, 18+ story. Minors, I ask that you DO NOT INTERACT.

The story is under the cut. Enjoy!

The sweltering London heat finally boiled over in early September. By the third week of the month, the leaves were golden and the air held a telltale crispness.

Gentle zephyrs that smelled of cinnamon and apples funneled down the country roads, each one gentle enough to send petticoats and top hats for those who weren’t cautious.

Constance adored windy weather. It allowed her unbound hair to whip about and blow freely, a sensation she found liberating and cleansing. Her dress, low-cut and made of spearmint linen, danced around her legs with every step, adding to the delight. Ebenezer, dressed in breeches and a simple white shirt, walked alongside her with a chipper gait. In the rolling hills outside the city limits, they were anonymous. Not a banker and socialite – not a scandal for retired folk to gossip about over tea. They were just another couple, stealing embraces and lingering glances, amidst the red and ember-colored trees.

“It’s gorgeous out here,” Constance said, looking around the golden fields that seemed to stretch in every direction.

“Yes, it’s a different world from the city,” Ebenezer agreed. He looked more handsome than usual, she thought, with his hair slightly windblown and his face lit with golden light. He had an almost boyish glow that she hadn’t seen around him yet, thanks to the city’s low ceilings and reliance on gas lamps.

As if reading her mind, he closed he eyes and basked in the autumnal calm. Tipping his head back, he inhaled slowly. “Serene. Quiet.”

Her cloak danced upon her heels with every spritely step, the tassels heavy enough to crunch the deadened leaves that her heels boots missed.

“It reminds me of home.” Her voice was almost ghostly, as if she was uneager to disturb the quiet that enveloped them.

“New York?”

“Yes,” she said,” Oh, don’t get me wrong, London is beautiful in the winter. But…New York in fall. Tarrytown. Hudson Valley. It’s something transcendental.”

“I believe you,” he said, taking moving his hand from her elbow to twine their fingers. “Washington Irving waxes beautiful stories of the area."

“Oh! You’ve read Irving?”

“I hadn’t before I met you,” he confided somewhat shyly, “But once we started courting, I wanted to know everyone I could about where you came from.”

The woman found herself grinning in pure excitement at the romantic confession. He’d kept that venture a secret from her.

He continued, albeit somewhat bashfully, “I found his works in a local bookshop. They are…quite popular this time of year, and it makes sense – the Dutch settlements. Fields of fragrant grain. The orchards. Throwing cinnamon chips atop crackling tavern fires. Lovers walking together on foggy nights amidst the gravestones. It’s all very autumnal and American …delightfully so.”

She flushed and nodded. “Yes. That last one is particularly dangerous, I must say.”

The two were a mere half-mile away from their temporary abode for the coming weekend. It was a small cabin with a hitching post for the horse and a small well out front. It was a comfortable lodge, and in the British countryside, finding their way back would not be difficult. Nonetheless, being out too late would be unwise, and both knew it.

“I can see why,” he agreed. “The stories and legends of the American wilderness are exciting enough for me, thank you very much. I’ll leave its true secrets to those knowledgeable enough to keep them. The prospect of getting spirited away by some ghostly Hessian soldier is, frankly, not an experience I’d like to entertain with you, dear. No offense.”

“Erudite and logical,” Constance teased. “None taken. I have no intention of getting spirited away on this very lovely afternoon. I quite like your company.”

He chuckled. “A very agreeable statement, my dear.”

Pausing momentarily, he snuck a quick look over his shoulder to peek at the road behind them. He squinted his icy eyes, as if trying to peer into the distance as much as possible. The moment Constance observed this behavior and tried to follow his gaze, he turned back her with a smirk. With the gentlest of shoves, he nudged her against an oak tree off the path until her back was flush with the bark.

There, he kissed her hard, tipping her head back so their mouths could meet fully. She reciprocated eagerly, hands roaming up his band, fingertips pressing into his back and through the flimsy material of his shirt.

She tugged the fabric tucked into his breeches free so she could slip her hands beneath the material and caress the skin of his bare back. Flanks of long, lean muscle met her eager fingertips. His towering, 6-foot-4 frame was impressive and weighty against her, but not in an unpleasantly smothering way.

As she did that, Ebenezer rolled his hips against hers, earning a thankful moan in return. He reached down to lift one of her shapely legs and wrap it around his waist. After it was secured, his hand skimmed up her skirts and past the edge of her stocking, exploring the tops of her thighs. Her skin quickly warmed under his skilled touch.

“Ebenezer…” she husked, eyes glassy as their kiss became more physical. Their bodies swayed and rutted together until even the flimsy barrier of their thin clothes was too much to bear.

He pulled back long enough to ask a breathless question, resting his forehead against hers. “D-Do you want to…”

Connie nodded eagerly, the heat in her lower belly too persistent to ignore. “We can use my cloak.”

Their hands tangled and they darted into the woods like excited teenagers. It took a few moments to find a clearing that was concealed by trees but was even enough for them to sprawl upon.

Ebenezer carefully unlaced the cloak from her freckled shoulders before laying it on the ground, smoothing it like one might do with a blanket before a picnic. Once he was satisfied, he turned around to see the pleasant sight of Constance already unfastening her dress.

When the fabric pooled around her ankles, she took great pleasure in drinking in the amorous expression on his face. The glow from before was this present, softening his features even further. With deliberate slowness, she slipped her hands over her ample breasts and down her corset, nails pulling and tugging the laces until she could remove it, her smalls and her stockings in one motion. The entire time, he never broke her gaze away from his.

When she rose again, Ebenezer’s gaze smoldered like twin diamonds.

“My gods,” he breathed, standing slowly and moving to her. He took her bare hips in his rough hands and pulled her close. “Look at you.”

She shuffled under his gaze, hands drifting behind her back.

“What about me?” she asked sweetly, tilting her head so her copper pooled over one shoulder.

“Bathed in this golden light…you’re like a sun goddess,” he breathed, his breath unsteady as his grip upon her tightened. “My goddess.”

The possessive lilt to his voice made her swoon, and she was suddenly very thankful for his arms being there to hold her.

“Well, Mr. Scrooge, don’t keep a goddess waiting,” she tried to tease, but her voice vacillated too much to sound as coquettish as she desired. They’d done this routine of teasing and flirting many times, yet her blood pounded with excitement as if it was their first time.

Judging by her lover’s matching smirk, he felt similar. “Mm. Eager, are we?”

“Well, it’s not very gentlemanly to leave me standing alone and nude without company,” she reasoned, crossing her hands over her breasts for playful emphasis.

This made his chest rumble, laughter as warm as summer thunder thumbling forth.

“You have a very unique idea of what a gentleman should do,” he said.

Despite his vague reply, he didn’t hesitate un unlacing the remainder of his shirt and tossing it aside. The action tousled his hair further, and as he pushed the silver-straked coif off his face, she was struck yet again by how damnably handsome he was. With his lean muscle from years of survival to his broad chest, covered in a spelt of salt-and-pepper hair, he was nothing short of a human Adonis. Then there was his face ... maker, his face. A strong Roman nose and sculpted cheekbones that could cut diamonds, nothing was as incredible to her was his icy-blue eyes. They glittered like mica in instances like this, when he stared at her as if she was the most precious being to him in the world.

It was her turn to ogle him as he unlaced his breeches and kicked them off him his socks and shoes.

He was all long-legged, toned glory. A trail of dark hair ran from his chest and down his belly, all the way to the reddened erection between his legs. His cock was already half-mast, heavy with arousal against his thigh, a clear pearl of liquid appearing at the top. She wetted her lips at the sight, suddenly desperate to take him into her mouth.

However, this occasion wasn’t the time for the lengthy foreplay that both could stretch on for hours. They had to be fast, less they be discovered by some unsuspecting travelers or merchants off the road. That scandal would follow them back to London easily.

With urgency that bordered on primal, Ebenezer closed the distance between them and wrapped two strong arms around her. She followed his lead, feeling him dip her into a kiss that forced her to cling onto him to prevent her from toppling over. The effect made their bellies and chests rub together. Her breasts, already heavy with desire, practically burned as his chair hair scrubbed her nipples.

Ebenezer lowered them both onto the cloak, with Constance laying supine beneath him.

They continued to kiss, moaning ang gasping as their hands roamed each other’s bodies. Relief flooded her when his hands finally lifted to her breasts and gave them a squeeze, helping to ebb some of the tension she’d felt buzzing in her nerves.

Arching her back into his hands, she was rewarded for her keening with the swipe of his deft tongue across the sensitive tips. She cried out from the pleasant combination of warmth and wetness. Her legs opened without a thought, already seeking his familiar girth to fill her and bring her to the edge of ecstasy.

After savoring the womanly musk of her breasts, he kissed a path down her stomach, hands moving down to cup her ass. With a hand on each cheek, he began to massage the flesh in circles, easing her body open further and further.

“E-Ebenezer, please, just…”

“Not yet,” he replied, kissing her belly button. Gods, she could feel his breath against her quim, already hot and eager and dripping for him.

She bit back a moan of frustration, for she knew that the delay of pleasure was all for a good reason.

Ebenezer was many things, but among the long list, he wasn’t a selfish lover. When it came to making sure his woman was satisfied, he wanted to know when he finally slid into her that she was wet and ready for him. Friction would be smooth, and his approach would be slow until he found that perfect spot inside her that milked the prettiest trembles and screams. Then, and only then, would he ferociously pick up the pace and drive into her, making sure to tilt his hips at the angle that kept her screaming for more.

Even when they’d first laid together, knowing she wasn’t a virgin, he’d treated her as such. He carried her to bed, taken her clothes off, kissed her slowly, savored the taste of her clit against his tongue … all of it to make sure that she was trembling and aching for him by the time they could finally come together in a moment of glory.

“I’m ready,” Constance said, hips lifting off the cloak and swaying. “Oh, please…love, please…”

Ebenezer was weak to her pleading, especially when she called him pet names.

“F—uck, do you have any idea how you look when we're together like this?” he whispered, moving his lips back up her sternum so he could whisper in her ear. “Once we get back to the cabin, I’m throwing you on that bed and making love to you until you can’t walk.”

She moaned loudly, her entire head tipping back at the sound of his promise. “Oh, please…yes!”

“Another beautiful sound,” he said, lips caressing her forehead as he placed a kiss right between her brows. ‘You, begging for me. It’s so hard to not give you what you want…”

“Please, Ebenezer!” she practically wept. Lifting a leg, she shakily wrapped it around his waist to bring his hips down. Feeling his tip right of her entrance, pressing inside slightly, made both release a collective sigh of yearning.

“A-Are you certain?” he stuttered.

She nodded. “Yes.”

With a roll of the hips, he slid inside, and … it was perfection. His cock filled her so perfectly. He wasn’t too big or too small. He knew when to speed up his pace, and when to slow down and keep her teetering on the edge. Best of all, he knew her body and knew what made her scream.

When he bucked his hips and arced right into the spongy G-spot on the roof of her sheath, her entire body went as taut as if she’d been seared by electrocution.

“Y-Yes, right there!” she begged. Her other leg shot up to cradle his body, his narrow hips fitting perfectly between her trembling thighs.

Platitudes fell from her lips as he continued his steady rhythm. With one hand supporting her lower back so he didn’t drive her too hard into the ground, he rutted into her with the same desire he felt the first time they’d slept together.

The entire time, he whispered comments into her ear: about her beauty, about how good she felt, about how lucky he was to share these moments with her. For a man who fancied numbers more than words, he was an incredible poet.

When she finally came crashed down from her high a minute later, her spine kinked and she dug her nails into his skin. He growled in pleasure, a smirk never leaving his visage as he watched her beautiful features spasm in bliss.

“There we go,” he commended, hands combing through her coppery strands. “That’s a good girl. Just like that.��

Tears in her eyes from the power of her orgasm, she let out one last cry as she felt her body close around his cock like a hot fist.

As he went to pull out and finish outside of her, she kept her legs locked around his waist, keeping him in place.

“S-Stay inside…” she begged, hands flying to squeeze his shoulders. “Finish in me.”

His eyes softened instantly, then glazed with the telltale signs of happiness. “M-My Constance, a-are you…are you sure?”

Again, she nodded. “I’ve never been more certain.”

This certainly of her love for him and confidence in him as a potential father to her children…it was too much. His brow furrowed as a surge of pleasure shot through him, and he shifted his angle to thrust back inside her.

Constance let Ebenezer move her body as needed to find the perfect angle that would apply to best pressure to his cock. Once he found it, she saw his eyes practically roll back.

“I-I love you…” he stuttered, already breathless after just two thrusts. On the third, he laughed and practically collapsed. “Connie, I love you so, so much.”

She nodded, her heart swelling with each beautiful declaration. “I love you, Ebenezer…my Ebenezer…”

The last of his restraint snapped, and with a growl, he shuddered and filled her with a hefty load of his seed. He frantically pumped his cock as deep as he could, filling her until droplets seeped onto the cloak below, before he let out an exhausted sigh.

He slumped beside her, a sheen of sweat covering his chest and forehead. Wiping the moisture away, he rallied himself for only a moment before he rolled atop her and kissed her again.

“You’re my radiance, my map to grace…” he said, rambling breathlessly. “I-I…could not be without you. I’m sure of that.”

It was a somber declaration, and it made her ribs go soft.

“I can’t be without you, either,” she said. “I’ll make sure we’re never apart. I never want to be taken from you.”

“I would perish before allowing that,” he whispered. Again, he reached down and twined their fingers.

Constance smiled and rolled into his embrace. She wrapped the cloak around them as a partial blanket for the moment.

“Well, perhaps we should hurry back then,” she teased. “We don’t want the ghosts to come out, right?”

He flattened his chest so she could use it as a pillow, which she greatly appreciated. As she nestled herself into place with a smile, he rolled his eyes.

“If there were any specters lurking in the trees, I’m quite certain we scared them off,” he said. Then, a beat later, he added, “Or … I hope.”

Constance giggled. “I hear no rattling chains.”

“Don't tease.”

She giggled and glanced up at him.

“I won’t let the ghosts take you away,” she promised. “After all …”

A hand drifted to her belly.

“Who knows what the future has in store?”

The two decided to stay in each other’s arms as they drank in the sunset in each other’s arms. With each passing minute, Scrooge dropped another tender kiss upon her, never wanting to let her go.

Thankfully, as long as the world around them stayed as calm and tranquil as this…he would never have to.

Tag list: @quill-pen @crimson-phantom-designs

#scrooge 2022 #scrooge a christmas carol #scrooge netflix #scrooge x oc #oc constance dogoode

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marlynnofmany · 8 months

Text

An Impressive Number of Arms

“Hello!” I said, holding up the clear travel crate. “Here are your small hopping animals!” I really wanted to say frogs, but they weren’t from Earth, and neither were the people I was handing them off to.

“Excellent,” said the one-armed alien. She stood more solidly on that single leg than I ever would, regarding me with one large eye. It was weird to see her mouth instead of a breathing mask. The air on her ship was unbearably damp by my standards, and I couldn’t wait to get back on the shuttle.

The other Solo spoke up from behind her, a greenish-blue to her purple-blue. “Do you have the crawling animals too?”

“Yes, sorry,” I said. “Mur is bringing those.” I called back into the open hatch of the shuttle, “Need a hand, Mur?”

“Just double-checking the seal,” my coworker called back. “And why would I need a hand when I have tentacles? Absurd human phrasing.”

I turned back to the clients, setting the crate on a table. “He’ll be right out.”

Before I could get the payment tablet or strike up some small talk, an authority figure walked into the docking bay. Well, hopped. But she made it look regal. And the other two immediately folded in half to bow. I did the same briefly, hoping it was the right amount of deference.

“Are the creatures lively?” she demanded.

“Oh yes,” I said, waving a hand at the crate while keeping my other arm at my side. It wouldn’t do to emphasize my abundance of limbs.

The boss turned her one eye on the purple underling. “Open the lid and check.”

I blurted out, “It’s clear. You can see them.”

That just earned me a glare. “False sides can be faked.”

Yeah, okay. Guess we’re doing this. I shrugged, hoping it looked polite, and stepped back for the purple one to unfasten all the safety catches. Maybe the frogs will behave themselves.

Of course they didn’t. The first one leapt right at my face, and I caught it in midair. Others were springing everywhere with excited little peeps. The purple one shut the lid hastily, but it was much too late.

“Hm. Good,” the boss said. She turned on her heel and bounded toward the door. “Make sure you clean up thoroughly.”

I’d like to say I was flabbergasted at that, but I’d been working with people of one sort or another for long enough to know better. The customer is often an idiot, and you’re obliged to pretend they’re not.

“I got one!” said the green guy. “Open the lid again!”

“The others will get out!” objected the purple one, trying to slap her hand over another tiny frog-thing.

“Who designed this crate?” the green one lamented.

“Here, I can do it,” I said. “I’ve had practice.” The frog I’d caught was small enough to hold in one hand without worrying that I’d squish it, so my other was free to slide the lid back an inch, covering the rest of the opening with my forearm. I dumped the frog in and closed it, then held my hands out for the next one.

The Solos were grateful. We did our best to catch the many little beasties that were spreading across the docking bay. I caught twice as many as they did, and put them all back one at a time.

The green guy shook his head. “That two-armed advantage,” he grumbled.

“We appreciate your help,” said the purple one, giving him a sharp look.

“No problem,” I said. “I’m happy to put my arms to use.” It was only showing off a little to catch two different frogs at once. “I think we’ve got most of them, just missing the ones that have gone into hiding.”

“Hiding inside our shuttle?” asked Mur’s voice.

I looked up to see him posing in the entrance with a frog wrapped in almost every tentacle. He towed the snail crate behind him on a glider pad. The seals looked fine.

I cocked a hip. “Nobody likes a show-off, Mur.”

His grin made him look like a cartoonishly proud squid.

The Solos fell over themselves thanking him. I put my two frogs away, then took his one at a time while the Solos peeked into corners and crevices in search of strays. Eventually they were all back in the crate, none the worse for all the excitement.

I didn’t know if they were destined to be food, royal pets, or something else, but they were healthy and accounted for on my watch, dagnabbit. I even got out the medical scanner to count how many were in the crate, because there was no way they’d hold still long enough to do it the old-fashioned way.

“Yes, that’s all of them!” I declared. The Solos looked visibly relieved. “Good job, team!”

“You’re welcome,” Mur said with false humility.

“Yeah yeah,” I said. “You and your more-arms-than-the-rest-of-us-combined. What took you so long to come out, anyway?”

“Oh, that.” Mur leaned in with a tentacle shielding his mouth from lip-reading on any cameras that might be in place. “Whoever made the snail crate did a bad job. The lid popped open in transit.”

“What?” I asked while the two Solos looked appropriately alarmed.

“Not to worry. I got them all.” He looked exceptionally smug, waving his tentacles gently.

I just shook my head and took out the payment tablet.

“Don’t tell the boss,” said the purple one as she took it. She had to set it on the table so she could use her single hand to tap in the information.

“Not a word,” I promised.

“I will only brag to trusted ears,” Mur said. With a glance at me, he added. “I think now is a fine time for a round of that card-flipping game that you lost so badly at last time. I’m on a roll.”

I pointed a finger at him while I accepted the tablet back with the other hand. “Oh, you are on. There’s no way I’m going to let you be this smug twice in one day.”

He grinned some more. I was pretty sure he was definitely going to be that smug again, but I’d give it my best shot. On the behalf of people with only two arms everywhere.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come!

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #and so are the aliens #haso #hfy #eiad #writeblr #aliens #science fiction

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hothothotch · 2 years

Text

𝓸𝓷𝓮: 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓾𝓷𝓾𝓼𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓯𝓾𝓷 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪𝓷𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓮

SUMMARY: {it’s not unusual series, first chapter}. while aaron is trying to find out if you are or are not dating Morgan, you have to face your own personal demons — and maybe you’ll find out that Aaron may be a good company for that.

TW: talks about death; talks about children; reader is a mother (kinda); talks about drugs.

A/N: a bit late, but it’s here! i had so much fun writing it, i hope you like it 🫶🏾 (also if you do, lemme know if you wanna be tagged :D).

YOU AND MORGAN WEREN’T A THING — not officially, like, a real couple —, but you were a thing nonetheless, and that was enough to make the always calm and collected SSA Aaron Hotchner go absolutely mental.

The first time Aaron had noticed a shift in your relationship with Derek had been after one specific case in Kentucky, where kids had been kidnapped by a mother who had lost her daughter only a few months back. Of course, cases with children were hard on every member of the team (mainly JJ, Hotch and Morgan, that had their own histories with children), but for some reason, that case had struck too close for comfort in you, and Morgan had noticed it before anyone else had.

At the occasion, Aaron had ignored how his heart beat faster when he saw, with the corner of his eyes, you leaning against Derek’s shoulders, your left hand grasping his right arm as he pulled you closer, kissing your head. He also ignored the way his usual frown only became deeper (to the point that his eyebrows were hurting) when he saw the small smile you gave Derek when you looked up, your eyes sparkling when they meet his, pure adoration in your every feature.

You were friends. Friends acted like that, obviously. So Aaron just shrugged it off and tried (and failed) to keep his mind on his report, pretending that the small and almost unnoticeable touch you exchanged passed unseen by him.

The smiles and touches were, unfortunately, only the beginning.

Rossi was the first to bring the topic to his attention one day, when the spirits were high and they had decided to stay late at the office to have a drink together.

Jack, mostly for Aaron’s dismay, had opted to spend his weekend at a Camp with the school, and while Aaron was happy his little boy was fitting quite well at his new school (he had required Jack’s transference for one closer to his house after Haley was killed), he really wished they could spend that weekend together, seen that the past ones were stolen by his job.

So, the last — last! — thing Aaron wanted was to gossip about two of his coworkers’ relationship. David, on the other hand, seemed to believe that when there’s nothing to say, saying anything is better than saying nothing.

“They’re not a thing” Aaron had protested between sips of his whiskey, trying to maintain a neutral demeanor as to not let anything skip — not that he’d admit, even if asked, “I’d have noticed”.

David chuckled, and the sound alone was enough to enrage Aaron, “You noticed. You’re just pretending you didn’t”.

“I didn’t” Aaron reinforced, looking straight into David’s eyes, “You know Morgan’s not the kind of man to date”.

“Me neither” David retorted, a chuckle falling from his lips when he said those words, “But all it takes it’s a nice woman, the right woman, to make even the worst man in the world become a good guy”.

Aaron’s lips twitched in a smile, “And we can spend the whole night discussing about how this is a lie solely based on our job” the Unit Chief gave his friend a pointed look, “Or in our own relationships, for that matter”.

Aaron knew his comment wouldn’t bother David (honestly, sometimes Aaron asked himself if David had ever cared for any of his wives after Carolynn, but it usually took him into a spiral of thoughts about Haley, and Aaron knew it wouldn’t take him anywhere), but couldn’t ignore the small frown that appeared on his friend’s face, a crease forming on his own forehead as he stopped his glass midway to his lips, “What is it?”.

David shook his head, leaning against his chair as he crossed his legs in front of his body — ‘oh, here we go’, Aaron thought, mirroring Dave’s movements as if granting him permission to speak whatever he wanted to.

“She’s been acting different for a while…” The older man trailed off, and for a moment Aaron wondered if David was still talking to him, “Since that case. It was when they started to see each other”.

Aaron nodded in agreement, “I know” he said bluntly, rolling his eyes when David gave him a knowing look, “I’m not talking about their relationship…”.

David raised both his hands in surrender, a sly smirk on his face, “I didn’t say a word”.

“But about her not being ok” Aaron proceeded, ignoring Dave’s last words as he finished his trail of thoughts, “Though I didn’t have the chance to talk to her about it”.

“I don’t think she wants to talk about it with someone…” Rossi pointed, “Other than Derek”.

‘Oh, come on!’, Aaron had to keep himself from rolling his eyes, but something on his behavior may have set him up, considering the small snicker on his lips. Sensing a smart comment was somewhere in the making, Aaron immediately cleared his throat, taking a sip of his whiskey before straightening his pose, “Anyway, I’ll talk to her about it when I feel like it’s unsettling the team”.

David motioned with his head, finishing his drink quickly before standing up, his glass forgotten on Aaron’s desk as he moved away, “Maybe…” the Italian man looked back at his friend when he reached the door, “Maybe you should talk to her before that. Before it’s too late”.

Aaron didn’t reply, and he knew that David wasn’t requiring an answer — as it usually happened, Rossi knew Aaron enough to know his friend would eventually talk to you about it, the same way Aaron knew David enough to know that he wouldn’t force him into doing something that he, as Unit Chief and friend, deemed could make one of his coworkers uncomfortable.

David also knew Aaron well enough to know that when it came to take a decision about a topic that could make you uncomfortable (even if it had only 1% of chance), he’d take way more time weighing his options — not that Aaron would admit it.

So, David knew that when he left Aaron’s office, his friend would make his top priority talking to you on the other day, if he got the chance; he knew that Aaron would be plagued on his sleep, passing his words in his mind, trying to find the best approach to the situation.

And maybe — but that was totally up for David’s hopes, and no real evidence — that could be the day Aaron Hotchner finally admitted his feelings for you.

Too much to hope for.

+++

WHEN THE ELEVATOR’S DOORS OPENED, you knew it was set to be a hell of a day — actually, the events that preceded that moment where already a good indicative, but you had decided to ignore the signs and pretend everything was ok, even if you knew nothing was.

It’s been a hard month.

“Good morning, sweet pea!” Garcia greeted, coming quickly from her lair with her always present smile and two steamy mugs in hands — on her right hand, her usual pink octopus filled with tea, and on her left hand a yellow smiley chick, that she happily passed to you, “How are you feeling today?”.

You shrugged, drinking the liquid inside the yellow mug in an attempt to hide the wobble on your lips, a way of saying you were not ok, but also not as bad as you’ve been before. As always, Garcia seemed to get it really well.

“Have you talked with your sister?”.

“Yeah” you nodded, holding the mug with both your hands, seeking the warmth it gave your fingers, the comfort it brought to your heart, even if for only a moment, “But she’s not the problem, her lawyer is”.

Garcia inclined her body towards you as if to confide you a huge secret she had never told anyone — even if you knew it would probably be a bad joke —, her voice filled with secrecy, “Lawyers always are”.

You actually laughed at that, nodding curtly in acknowledgment to her comment. The reason you had told Garcia what was happening (besides your urge to tell someone, anyone), was because you knew that while everyone would treat you like a victim, like someone who’s going through a lot in life, Garcia would do the exact opposite — with her funny mugs and bright colors (and an admirable sense of humor), the BAU’s Tech Analyst sworn to do her best not to let you dive too much into the problem, even if you felt like you were already sinking.

Penelope Garcia was a breath or fresh air, and you were more than grateful that she existed.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Penelope stated subtly, bringing your mind back to that moment, “Hotch wanna see you”.

Your brows knitted at that, confusion written all over your features as you turned to face the closed door to Hotch’s office, on the other side of the bullpen. You’ve been with the team for a while now — almost a year —, and while you were aware that Hotch (your Unit Chief) wasn’t the kind of person to excessively talk, he had his moments of asking for private conversations with members of the team, mostly when he knew they needed help.

Point is, Hotch seemed to be doing just the opposite with you.

You were aware he knew something was off — he always knew, just like Rossi —, and while you were sure he wanted to make it go unnoticed, you had noticed his looks towards you since that case in Kentucky, how he kept a safe distance and rarely directed a word towards you, unless it was extremely necessary.

At first, you thought he might be studying ways of firing you (and that was all you didn’t need at the moment), but Hotch didn’t seem to doubt your judgement or abilities, so you shrugged that possibility off on the first weeks of his odd behavior, but that didn’t mean you were not curious about it.

It was only when Derek brought the subject to life that you finally understood what had led him to that, “He knows” he had pointed one night, while you were safely tucked under your blankets on your living room, a movie playing on the TV, though it was long forgotten, “Hotch. I think he knows about us and he’s studying the best way to tell us there’s HR files to fill”.

You snorted at the occasion, placing one hand on Derek’s chest to look up at him, “Hotch-I-don’t-smile-at-all is nervous about telling us that we have to file documents?”.

“No, that would be bullshit” he rolled his eyes, his fingers skimming her skin slowly and tenderly, “Hotch’s nervous about the action reports he will have to fill to make sure no one’s gonna consider our relationship a problem”.

You snorted at that, kissing Derek’s lips tenderly with the smallest of the smiles on your face, “Fair enough”.

But that had happened a month ago, and a lot had changed since then — one of them being that, as much as you loved each other, you and Derek decided that being a couple wasn’t your thing. Yeah, you liked the time you spent together; yeah, messing around with each other was pretty fun; and yeah, Derek Morgan was a hell of a good kisser (among other things). But when it came to a real relationship, the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing and being in love with each other, both of you knew you were not what the other was looking for.

So, while the playful banter, the unabashed flirtations and the small kisses distributed publicly (mostly in hands and cheek), you and Morgan were just friends.

Really.

“Okay” you replied nonetheless, shifting on your feet and tried to play it off as if you weren’t confused and a bit worried, “See you later?”.

Penelope nodded, taking the mug from your hands, “Sure thing, sugar plum! I’ll be in the lair with the Nutcracker waiting for you!”.

You groaned, tilting your head backwards with a playful bothered demeanor, “Why did I tell you about that?”.

“Because you love me!” Garcia sang, moving towards her lair, heels clicking soundly on the ground, “Bye bye!”.

You smiled, following her every step until she was out of reach, moment when you finally allowed yourself to look through the glass doors of the bullpen, observing your surroundings.

Most of the team was already there, gathered on their desks with their noses buried on the piles and piles of paperwork accumulated from a week’s worth of back to back cases, your own desk had its own pile of paperwork, though slightly smaller than your teammate’s — as a night owl, it had become habit to finish your paperwork on the late hours, when people were already sleeping; it saved you time on the other day, but also gave you a hellish migraine for lack of sleep (which you tried to solve with painkillers and lots of coffee to keep you awake).

Your heart clenched when your eyes made their way up to Hotch’s office, breath getting caught in your throat when you found him already looking at you through the windows, but the contact lasted only a second before he turned his head back to the files on his desk, leaning against his chair with one hand on his chin.

God, you were gonna be fired.

“Hey, good morning”.

You jumped at the sound of JJ’s sweet voice, turning your head to face the (other) blonde woman beside you, eyes wide while you tried to hide the fact she had scared you — which, by the smile on her face, you knew hadn’t worked.

“Sorry” she whispered, holding her files closer to her chest, “You seemed a bit off, I was worried”.

You thought about lying, or saying you were ok, or just shrugging it off like it was nothing — but you knew that, even not being a profiler, if someone would catch your lie, that’d be JJ, “Hotch wanna see me”.

JJ tilted her head to the side, a frown appearing on her face, “And…?”

“And… he’s our boss?” you replied obviously, taking a step closer to the blonde woman in front of you, “The one with the power to fire us? The all-mighty guy from BAU? I can keep going”.

“Not needed” JJ chuckled, “You know you’ve been acting strange on the past month, right? And that, even if you didn’t tell anyone except for Morgan and Garcia, we still noticed that, right?”.

Yes, you recognized you’ve been acting strange — who wouldn’t, considering the circumstances? —, but no, it never gone through your mind that someone other than Morgan and Garcia would’ve noticed (which now sounded stupid, considering you were a profiler on a team or profilers).

“I’ll take that as a no” JJ grinned, touching your shoulders delicately, “He’s probably just worried and wanna know if everything’s ok. You can play Hotch off with ‘it’s fine’ and he won’t pressure you. Or…” she moved closer to you, “You can tell him the truth, and he’ll try to help”.

You stomp your feet on the ground, looking nervously at Hotch’s office door — what was the worst that could happen?

“Ok” you nodded, “Yeah, you’re right. Yeah”.

“I know, I usually am” JJ said teasingly, shoving you delicately towards the glass doors, “If you wanna talk later, I’ll be in my office”.

You smiled at JJ, your hands touching the icy handle as you pushed the doors.

What was the worst that could happen?

+++

BY THE TIME YOU SAT IN FRONT OF AARON’S CHAIR, he was already regretting having called you up, for an incredible amount of reasons.

The first one (and the one that was bothering him the most) being the fact that you were looking amazing — and not only looking, smelling. Not that it wasn’t usual of you (Aaron had never seen you dressed in something that didn’t fit the occasion), but for some reason it hit him differently that day, while he looked at you.

The second was the way you had suddenly retracted on your chair, even if you hadn’t noticed it. The way your back was slightly hunched, how you kept biting your bottom lip, or how your hands were fumbling around, trying to neat the already beaten pictures on his table.

You were hiding something, Aaron could see it. The only thing he wasn’t sure was if that had something to do with your relationship, or if there was something… else.

“Agent—“.

He didn’t get to finish his message, your feelings immediately coming off your lips in a hurricane of hushed words, “Look, Hotch, I’m sorry Derek and I didn’t talk to you about our relationship first thing, but we were seeing if it could lead us to something, and it didn’t, so…” you took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, but it’s not a problem anymore—“.

The next time your name slipped from Aaron’s lips, it was calm, gentle, sweet, almost; and while you thought you’ve never heard him talking to you like this, Aaron could recall hundreds of times he had, even without you noticing.

“This is not about you and Morgan, though I should’ve brought the subject sooner…” Aaron raised one brow, trying to sound as neutral as possible when he asked, “But it’s not a problem anymore?”.

You felt your face heat and you were almost sure you were suddenly turning red, ashamed, “Yeah… I mean, no… I mean…” you took a deep breath, intertwining your fingers as you gathered courage to look up at Aaron, “We broke up, like, a month ago. We’re still friends, of course, and it’s nothing that’s gonna jeopardize our performance on the field—“.

Aaron called your name again, this time way gentler than before, if that was even possible, “I know” he murmured softly, “And that’s not why I called you here”.

Not entirely, he wanted to complete, but Aaron knew better than to push you away now that he had you there, talking to him.

“No?” you asked softly, knitting your brows.

“No” Aaron replied seriously, intertwining their fingers on top of his wooden desk, “Actually, I’ve noticed there’s something bothering you. I wanted to know if it’s something you’d like to talk about…?”.

Aaron observed as your features changed from confused, to surprised, to closed; it was almost as if you had suddenly brought up the walls you had let fall when speaking about your relationship with Morgan — or maybe he had interpreted your fear and nervousness as an opening, while you were only doing what you thought would be required, considering he was in a higher position than you.

He was ready to ask for forgiveness and say he didn’t mean to intrude when something changed on your features — your face lit up a bit, though it wasn’t happy, just… if Aaron could describe it, he’d say that it seemed like something on your mind had just find some clarity. It warmed his heart, considering it was the first time he had seen you do it in a while (when it wasn’t case related, of course) and it had happened because of him — indirectly.

Aaron observed cautiously as you sat straight on the cushioned chair, placing both your hands on your legs before finally looking up at him, your eyes hooked up on each other when the words came out of your mouth, “I’m a mother. Kinda”.

He blinked.

And blinked.

And blinked one more time.

Until the words finally made it out of his mouth, completely stunned, “You… are?”.

“Kinda” you said with a thin voice, finishing the sentence with a pout, “A friend of mine, Darlene, she died a year ago and she had a daughter. Darlene was a single mother, and we had this pact that whoever died first would take care of the other’s child…” your hands were moving frantically as you spoke, and it didn’t take a lot from Aaron to notice it was a subject that made you happy, though it frightened you in equal measure, “Her name is Lizzie, she’s four. The light of my life, and the reason why I don’t see myself having other children in the future”.

You had said this last part humorously, so Aaron knew you were kidding — still, he couldn’t help but question if you’d ever see Jack as yours as much as you saw Lizzie…

He should get his head off his ass.

“Is she ok?” he questioned, more because he wanted to take the images of you being Jack’s stepmother from his head than because he actually meant it. God, he was starting to feel awful, “Can I help you with something?”.

You sighed heavily, “Can you call one of your old lawyers pals and ask them how can I win in court against her biological father?”.

‘Oh’, Aaron thought, finally able to understand — partly — what the matter was.

“It depends…” Aaron leaned closer to you, holding his tie in place, “Why you don’t want him to get her custody? I mean, except for your promise”.

“He’s not a good guy” you replied immediately, throwing your body against the backrest, your eyes focused on the ceiling (it was a position similar to the one you sat when you were talking to your therapist), “They met it college, he has a nice family, they’re rich and stuff… but he’s an addict. Y’know, the kind we find on ditches, killed by someone like the Zodiac”.

Aaron frowned, “The Zodiac never killed an addict. Not that we know of”.

“I know” you nodded, sighing heavily, “But I couldn’t think of killers that did, so I went with the first name in my mind”.

He chuckled at that, crossing one leg on top of the other — and just like that, the office was silent. Not a disturbing silence, as it used to get in between cases, but the silence of two minds studying different situations that could end up complementing the other — you thinking about your issue, and Aaron about how to help you with that.

Aaron was ready to speak when you did, drumming on his desk with your fingers, “If that’s all, boss, I should go. There’s a pile of paperwork I should fill out”.

“Sure” Aaron replied promptly, standing up as you did, “And about Lizzie—“.

“Oh, no. No need to say anything” you waved it off, your smile not quite reaching your eyes, “It’s not your problem—“.

“But I wanna help you with it” he cut you off, once more observing as your features changed, your mouth opening in a surprised ‘o’, “I think I can call a friend of mine, she’s specialized in cases like that, and being a woman, you may be more comfortable to talk to her about the whole thing. I’ll let you know”.

Your eyes filled with tears, and Aaron saw the way you opened and closed your mouth a few times, searching for the right words to say, “Hotch…”.

“No need” Aaron assured, walking slowly towards you, one hand gently on your shoulder, “If someone tried to take Jack from me, I’d do everything to keep him by my side. Now I wanna help you do the same”.

You gasped, and Aaron was almost sure that you didn’t plan to hug him, or to burrow your head on the crook of his neck, or to let him feel your tears falling on his shoulder, soaking his suit. But you did. And while you were there, present, open, willing to let yourself feel safe in his arms, Aaron closed his own arms around your body, pulling you closer to him, melting on your smell, thinking about how he wished that could happen every day. And if it wasn’t for the open blinds on his office, he’d have kissed your forehead tenderly, or even your whole face, just so you knew how much that hug meant to him — how much you meant to him.

But it wasn’t the time, or the place.

And even without that, Aaron knew that something changed that day.

For better.

+++

“I’M JUST SAYING…” Rossi started (or continued, considering that talk had started at the moment him and Aaron took their seats on the plane, “That it’s not unusual to have fun with anyone, principally when someone’s as young as her”.

Aaron rolled his eyes, looking up at his old friend with one brow raised, “You won’t stop until I tell you what we talked about, right?”.

David gave his friend a devilish smile, leaning against the table that separated them, “You know me so well”.

From the moment David Rossi stepped feet at the BAU, Aaron knew he wouldn’t have secrets anymore — and not only because Rossi was his best friend, but also because he was a curious man who usually wouldn’t take ‘no’ as answer, even if it was a secret hidden deep inside, not meant to be known by anyone but the two people who knew it.

But David Rossi was a noisy man. And he could become even more noisy after witnessing his best friend (and boss) hugging one of his coworkers (you) so intimately on his office while he believed you were dating another of your coworkers.

“I mean, I’m not calling you ‘anyone’…” the Italian man pointed at Aaron, “Actually, you’re a really fine man. But I’m deducing her thing with Morgan wasn’t serious if she already moved on—“.

“They were dating” Aaron finally cut him off, not looking forward to have a whole talk about how you and him could be fooling around — only the idea was painful, the thought he could have you for a minute and then not anymore, “But they broke up”.

David wiggled his brows, “And you immediately stepped in? Atta boy!”.

“That he is” your voice came from behind Rossi, a smile on your face as you moved past him, stopping beside Aaron’s chair, one hand on his shoulder, “And while I don’t know what this talk is about… and honestly, I don’t know if I wanna” she gave Rossi a pointed look when he opened his mouth to speak, probably answering the silent (or nonexistent) question you’ve made, “I wanted to know if you wanna join me on the back?”.

Aaron looked at the spot you were pointing at — the same spot he saw you and Derek sitting only a few months ago, when he tried to convince himself that you were just friends.

He ignored the way his heart stopped at the invitation, closing his file as he nodded, standing up behind you in the small space of the plane’s corridor, “We talk later, Dave”.

“Oooh” David chanted, grabbing his own file, “We sure do, Aaron”.

Aaron knew you noticed — and you knew he knew — the mischievous hint on Rossi’s voice when he spoke, but as you both sat down side by side on the double seats of the plane, the only thing that mattered was the warm and reassuring presence of the other…

Until the next problem came.

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