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spencersawkward · 3 years

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*concussions and confessions//spencer reid*

summary: a near-death experience encourages Spencer to admit his feelings for his best friend, even at the risk of ruining their relationship.

pairing: Fem!Reader/Spencer

content warnings: oh boy there’s a lot. i’ll start with the nonsexual ones-- choking (again, not sexual), blunt force, violence, some angst. ok time for the fun ones-- unprotected penetrative sex, masturbation, sex dream, oral (male receiving), slight dirty talk, creampie. lmk if there are more that i missed!

word count: 5.4k

A/N: hi omg so i actually combined two requests for this bc i loved the concepts and i didn't wanna do one and not the other. i hope i do both of these justice hehe thanks for sending them! also sorry if the unsub scene sucks-- i don’t usually write that way, so i tried my best.

request(s): omg if you need ideas for baby spence can you do a one shot where he's the girls best friend (she's not in the bau) and they are in love but neither of them admit it and he is really hurt in a case or almost dies or something traumatic and only when he gets back they confess their love... and then have sex 😏 ive been thinking about this concept alot 😌

can’t stop thinking about baby spencer (like s2-s4) & his girl best friend losing their virginity to each other... can you write a one shot on this please?

masterlist

"when are you coming back?" you ask over the line. you're lying on your bed, legs in the air while you talk to your best friend. it's been a long day for you, but a longer day for him. it's always a longer day for him.

"you know that I don't know the answer to that question." Spencer's voice is soft as he attempts to keep quiet. he's two hours ahead and, despite the fact that you're both night owls, the person he's rooming with tonight isn't.

"I know, but there's this Korean film festival that starts tomorrow and I was hoping you would be here to translate for me." you examine your nails while you talk. Spencer lets out a disappointed sigh.

it's only been a few days since he left, but it's been a week since you last saw him and it feels like a long time. whenever he's not at work, you two are joined at the hip. ever since you first met a few years back at a poetry convention in DC, it feels like he's the only person who understands you. which is weird, because you couldn't be more different as individuals.

"you should bring one of your other friends."

"bold of you to assume I have other friends." you joke. Spencer chuckles to himself and your heart flutters. you love his laugh more than anything in the world.

"I thought that was just me." he says.

"oh, it is just you," you reply flatly. "I was trying to make you feel better."

you can practically feel Spencer smiling through the phone. although you tease him pretty frequently, he's sometimes able to get in his own shots. it's what makes your friendship interesting.

"hey," you add before he can say anything more. "how's the case going?"

Spence starts to detail the whole thing, and you listen intently, the timbre and smoothness of his voice comforting you as you slip beneath the covers of your bed. you like the way he enunciates his words, his strange manner of speaking, because it lulls you to sleep.

you know he's talking about horrible things, but something about the sound comforts you deeply. when he's not around, you're wishing you had it bottled up.

he lays out their profile as it stands, and you fall silent. it's getting pretty late and you have to be up early for work tomorrow, so it would be a good idea to get some real rest. plus, Spencer needs to sleep, too-- even though he probably won't.

you remember times when he'd call you at three in the morning, his mind whirring as he played chess against himself and asked if you wanted to hang out so he could teach you how. you hate chess, but of course you said yes; you'd been head over heels with him since your first conversation.

eventually, you feel yourself start to drift off. you don't even really know what he's saying; all of it blends together until you're laying there, one cheek pressed to the pillow and the receiver against the other.

"Y/N?" he says your name abruptly and your eyes, which have been slowly drawing shut this whole time, fly open.

"yeah?"

"go to bed."

"what? no, I'll wait until you're done." you shift.

"I could hear your breathing change."

"then why didn't you just hang up?" you giggle. he goes silent for a moment and you wonder if he cut out, but then he responds.

"I wanted to say goodnight."

it's like a cage of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach. you wrinkle your nose as you get nervous. god, you miss him. things would be so much better if he was back. not like he'd be in your bed even if he was, though.

"then say goodnight." you prod. he lets out an awkward little sound.

"now I can't because you made it weird."

"how did I make it weird?"

"I don't know, you just did." he's so clumsy, your face heats up. you want to keep talking like this until morning.

"goodnight, Spence," the words sound reluctant, but you try to cover it up by teasing him further. "see, was that so bad?"

"oh my god, Y/N--" he tries to sound exasperated.

"no goodnight back?" you raise an eyebrow even though he can't see you right now.

a lengthy silence again. "goodnight."

"that's what I thought." before he can protest, you end the call, settle into the covers. moonlight beams on the walls of your apartment, and you start to think about your best friend. about all the nights spent curled up on his couch with two bowls of popcorn, his ramblings about how much he loves his job and him asking about yours.

he's a great listener. every time you talk, he nods along like he's hanging off every word. it's nice to feel heard that way, to have someone care. and he's fun to hang out with, too. you've met his team before and they all talk about how hard it is to get him to go out, but they don't see the same side of him that you do.

Spencer is nerdy and cute and kind and sensitive. he makes you feel special. he's everything that you've ever wanted in a person. but it's not like it would matter, anyway. he hasn't really shown interest in any girls-- much less you. even if he did, you're scared of ruining the friendship.

the fallout of not having him around at all... it would destroy you. and something, even if it's torturous, is better than nothing.

which is why, as you sit there and remember being around him, your fingertips creep below the comforter. a familiar routine, they move over your stomach, until they reach the waistband of your panties. for a moment, you hesitate. it's wrong. he's your best friend. but he doesn't need to know that this is how you handle the ache he puts between your legs.

as your index finger slides down your slit, you feel the wetness already forming. Spencer's hands, his mouth. the thought of his lips pressed to yours while he fucks you, holding your body like it's delicate.

you don't know exactly how it would feel because you've never had sex, but you want to find out with him. he's never done it, either. you don't care; all you need is to have him inside of you, to see how he looks when he's on the edge.

your mind wanders to the image of him parting your legs and rolling his eyes into the back of his head. the sensation of him filling you up. falling apart.

you slide a finger inside, gasping at the way your walls tighten and your imagination runs wild. that tongue, lapping and making you squirm, your fingers twisted in his soft hair. he's so sweet; his attentiveness would make your legs shake. you want to look into his eyes while he does it.

you add a second finger, curl them and brush over the most sensitive part. the pressure of his hips grinding into yours. your body curves up at the way you start to finger yourself, the other hand stimulating your clit. it's almost overwhelming, the way his name tumbles from your lips over and over.

you've never wanted someone so badly in your life; he belongs in your bloodstream. the sounds he would make in your ear before finally cumming and collapsing on top of you, spent. you want to tire him out and then do it all over again.

you're greedy on the edge, indulging in every single image of him you can conjure up, every dirty thing you'd say. finally, you feel yourself fall, the orgasm intense as you bite back groans of pleasure and work through the high. it's amazing.

you sit there, panting, feeling your heart beat in your chest. some things can't leave your head, they're so sinful. and the worst part is that you don't regret it in the slightest.

...

Spencer can feel his pulse practically leaping against his throat as he makes his way through the empty warehouse. he should have waited for backup; he knows he should have, but it's too late now to go back and change things.

he clutches his gun, pointing it in front of him while his eyes flicker wildly across the space. he's moving between enormous aisles stuffed with crates, not knowing who else is around. they said the unsub brought his newest victim here-- Spencer came first because was closest to the site-- but he hears nothing aside from the uneven rhythm of his own breath.

every step is careful. he's thinking about how close the rest of the team must be. based on their distance from the station, they should arrive within six minutes-- but that doesn't account for the time it takes to put on their bulletproof vests, to get to their cars.

truthfully, he doesn't know if he's going to have to do this on his own. and that scares him the most.

there's no point in worrying. he swallows the lump in his throat and presses his back to one of the crates. there's a scraping noise a ways off that causes him to freeze. because of the echoes of the warehouse, the origin is indiscernible. he doesn't breathe, eyes darting between each of the openings into the aisle.

after a minute of pure silence, he peels himself away and turns to head back out.

and that's when the sound of wood cracking against bone startles him; he hears it before he feels it, but it's obvious when he crumples to the floor. like knife points pressing into his brain at all angles, the shooting agony in his skull.

he starts to clutch at his head, only to be yanked off the ground by a meaty hand and thrown against the side of a crate.

"fucking feds." the guy is enormous. gargantuan. he keeps his arm across Reid's throat, pressing down enough to restrict his airway. but Spencer can't even concentrate on the guy's face further than its rough outlines. his vision is going in and out, fuzzy at the edges from the blow to his head.

he definitely has a concussion.

"I..." he trails off. the huge FBI logo on his vest is a dead giveaway.

"all alone?" the unsub has breath like rotten fish, spits each word into his face. "I won't even need my gun."

Spencer's head lolls to the side and he catches sight of his own weapon lying helplessly a few feet away. there's no way he could get to it in time, even if he got out of this guy's chokehold.

he tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this; after all, their profile said he'd be more susceptible to negotiation, but that's kind of hard to do with someone's forearm slammed against your trachea. he presses harder and Spencer sees stars. his glasses hang almost off the bridge of his nose, centimeters from falling to the floor.

he starts to realize that he's going to die, defenseless and alone, in a warehouse. at the hands of a man who kills women because his Viagra doesn't work. but this doesn't incite the kind of panic Spencer always predicted he'd feel. the lack of oxygen in his brain causes him to go delirious.

he misses home. his mom and his old house, even though things were hard. he misses Y/N, his team members. he wishes his team was here; he should have waited for them. he should have told Y/N how he feels. now she's never going to know.

Reid is so out of it, he doesn't even notice the pressure being relieved from his throat until he collapses on the ground. the unsub falls, too, his cheek smashed by the force of the abandoned wooden plank.

it's hard to tell what's happening until Reid lifts his head to see Morgan standing above him, preparing to handcuff the criminal.

"kid," Spencer never thought he'd be so glad to hear his voice. "what happened?"

...

you practically crash into Spencer's apartment the next evening, flinging your body through the front door with your spare key.

"Spence?" you call out from the entryway. everything still looks the same, but when his colleague, Penelope, called you today to tell you that Reid had gotten a concussion after a run-in with an unsub, you rushed here as soon as you could.

"in here." he calls from his bedroom. you don't hesitate, your feet carrying you there. you've been anxious all day; he didn't call last night or even text like usual. you were on the verge of panicking when Penelope called.

of course, you knew that was the risk with Spencer. he knew the risk, too. his life would always be in the balance when it came to the cases, but he'd gone through so many at this point, you weren't thinking about it. if you did, you wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

when you walk in, the first thing you see is Spencer laying in bed in his silk pjs. there's a stack of unread books on his bedside table. his glasses sit on top. he's just laying there with his eyes closed.

"oh my god." you mutter, dropping your bag on the floor and walking over. he opens his eyes with a slight smile. there's a purple bruise forming across his throat, light but definitely there.

"hi."

"what the fuck happened?" you ask the question you've been wondering the whole way here.

"he hit me with a plank." Spencer explains, the phrase coming out like he's still confused about it. "I'm fine, just a mild concussion and a bruise because he choked me."

you take a second to assess if he actually means that he's okay, or if he's trying not to worry you. he stares at your expression for a second.

"Y/N, I'm really fine."

"you don't look fine." you gesture to the fact that he's laying in bed.

"my body is sore, but nothing's wrong with me. I just can't look at screens or read." this last part makes him much more melancholy, it seems. you reach down and ruffle his hair playfully.

"sounds like a nightmare."

"it is." he cracks up.

"I'm glad you're okay." you sigh. your heart rate has slowed to a reasonable pace now that you know he's fine. Spencer gives a ghost of a smile, and when he pats the empty spot on the bed beside him, you kick off your shoes and climb over his body to sit down. "so... did you guys get him?"

"the unsub?" he turns his head to look at you. something is in his eyes that you can't read. "yeah, he's in custody. we saved the girl he abducted, too."

"well, aren't you a hero?" you grin, pinching his arm.

"ow!" he flinches. "don't hurt the patient."

"oh, so now you're injured?" you giggle softly. his smile fades a bit, gaze trailing from your face to your legs. it isn't lustful or anything, more like he's taking in your existence. it still makes your heart flutter.

"I wasn't really a hero, anyway," he sighs. "I got knocked down before I even found her."

"oof." you wince.

"yeah, it's sort of embarrassing. I went in by myself and--"

"you went by yourself?" you clarify, turning to face him. of course he did.

"yeah." he avoids your gaze.

"Spencer, I work in a stationery shop and I know you're supposed to wait for backup." you deadpan. he snorts, staring straight ahead at the wall. his hair is flat in the back from where he's been resting it against the headboard.

"he would have hurt her if I had waited." he explains. your heart softens a bit at this. you know Spencer has a problem with saving people; sometimes he doesn't think things through. but you know that it's only because he cares.

you smile gently, appreciating what a beautiful person he is. you don't understand how other people don't see him how you do. your hand reaches for his suddenly, and you find yourself snuggling into his shoulder.

Spencer doesn't usually like touch, but he welcomes this, dropping his own head to rest on top of yours while you both stare at the wall. his silence feels heavy, more than it usually does, and you wonder what he's thinking.

"I'm really glad you're okay, Spencer." your tone is low, like it's a secret.

"you already said that."

"shut up."

"you care about me." he sing-songs with a smile, and you know he means it in a friendly way, but you don't care. it brings warmth to your cheeks.

"whatever. you care about me, too."

he lets out a slight chuckle. "when I started to black out, I thought of you."

your heart leaps, even though the reason is pretty dark. "oh, yeah?"

"mhmm." he hums.

"nobody's ever told me that they thought of me in their last moments of life before." you tease. there are so many things you'd like to say, but know you can't. he smells like himself and coffee beans, his skin warm beneath the silk of his pajamas.

"I'd hope not."

"anything in particular?" you wonder aloud.

"what?" you feel him tense beneath you, and that's how you know there's something he's not telling you.

"were you thinking about anything in particular?"

"someone's full of themselves." he jokes. you smack his arm.

"humor me." more than anything, you want to hear his thoughts. you know you're reaching, but you don't care.

"just..." he pauses, the next words coming out almost too quietly to hear. "things I never got to say to you."

"like?" now you're intrigued.

"no way." he laughs and you groan, turning and realizing that you've both sunk deeper onto the bed and are now practically lying down.

"c'mon," you prod. you've flipped onto your side while you watch him, his eyes directed at the ceiling. "what if you'd actually died?"

Spencer gives you a look, and you wish you could snap a picture of his face. the gentle features, the warmth in his eyes. he stares at you differently than before, and it makes your stomach flip again. "I, um."

you start to trace your index absently down his forearm, where his sleeve has incidentally gotten rolled up. his skin is soft. you know that this isn't a friendly thing to do, but something inside you craves his touch right now. you almost lost him; you can't imagine how horrible that would be.

"I wanted to say that I--" he gulps, muscles in his shoulder tight beneath your cheek. "well, I care about you, and I... I really love you."

it's not the first time he's said it, obviously in a platonic sense. what affects you is that he's acting like it's a big deal.

"I love you too, Spence." you smile softly. his chest rises and falls faster, his face tensed.

"no, I mean--" he turns onto his side, using the action to distract from his own nervousness. he holds your gaze and you forget how to breathe as he speaks. every syllable is serious, but you note his fingers fidgeting at his side. "I'm in love with you."

it's like all the air in the room has been sucked out. you swallow, unsure of how to react at first. you don't believe what you're hearing, simply because it doesn't make sense. you've been friends for a while, now, but Spencer has never made a move to ask you out or acted like he wanted anything more.

your heart swells.

"you're in love with me?" the words even feel surreal on your tongue. he takes it as rejection.

"I shouldn't have said that, I'm sorry." Spencer rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands, his expression turning to a cringe. he's about to sit up to hide the red in his cheeks, but you pull him back down by the shoulder.

"not so fast, crazy boy." the corners of your mouth are turning up into a grin. you can't help it; every nerve in your body is alive. Spencer loves you. he feels the same way.

when he sinks back down onto the mattress and sighs, preparing to say something that rescinds the statement to erase any awkwardness, you grab his face and turn it to yours. you don't kiss him, only force him to look.

"I'm in love with you, too."

his eyebrows fly up in surprise. "r-really?"

"yes." you nod.

he takes a second to process this. you see about five different expressions pass over his face, each one reminding you of how earnest he is. and it's absolutely adorable.

"well, that's good, isn't it?" he clarifies. you pretend to think on it.

"I'd say so, yeah."

he smiles. a genuine, rare one that makes your veins feel as if they're full of glitter. you're on Cloud 9.

"can I kiss you?" you ask him quietly. he seems surprised at this, too, like he never thought you'd want that, but then nods eagerly.

you close the gap between you on the bed, holding his jaw in one hand while the other rests on his forearm. your lips meet softly at first. he's cautious, scared of pushing you away. he hasn't kissed many people before. but he's good at it, letting you take the lead.

there's no way to adequately describe kissing Spencer. every bone in your body turns to mush, immediately craving more contact. you slide your tongue across his full bottom lip, and he lets you in. his affection is the most loved you've ever felt. because sure, you haven't had sex, but you've kissed people before.

never like this.

one of his hands goes up to wrap around your forearm tenderly before he shifts to lie on his side. you wrap around each other, turning the kiss into a full-body embrace as you breathe in. you want more. your leg swings over his torso so you can pull yourself closer, and he groans into your mouth when your pelvis presses against his.

the kiss gets more heated, his hands carefully but hungrily traveling down the curve of your waist. you flip so that you're straddling him without breaking any contact.

you don't really think about the way your hips begin to rock against his, your pussy involuntarily working for friction. there are so many happy chemicals in your brain right now, you giggle against his mouth when his body bucks up into yours. he groans.

"Y/N..." he breathes softly. his hands move from your waist to your thighs, afraid to dig his fingertips in.

"what?" you sigh, licking over his bottom lip again. he moans at the way you keep grinding on his erection.

"I wanna--" his eyelashes flutter when he gasps. "I wanna touch you."

"do it." your palm is resting tenderly against his cheek. he responds by finally holding you down, sliding his body up a bit to grind against your center. you whine. "touch whatever you want, Spencer."

his cock twitches in his pants and you push the hem of his shirt up while he uses one hand to massage your tits. the voracious, curious nature of his attention makes you sigh, touching his stomach. he feels perfect beneath you.

soon you're grabbing at each other without any regard for grace. he's so horny, he's pawing at whatever he can while you do the same to him. the kissing gives way to straight panting while you look at each other.

"can I suck your dick?" you whisper. Spencer's eyes widen. you've never seen him nod so fast.

you press your mouth to his one more time before inching down his body, sucking on his clavicle, then his stomach. careful to avoid the purple marks on his neck. he watches you intently, memorizing the details of this moment for later. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you peek up. he strains against the material.

your mouth drops open and you draw your tongue over the clothed bulge, maintaining eye contact. Spencer throws his head back. his voice is high. "oh my god, oh my god."

you smirk, licking it again. he clenches his jaw. "I'm gonna c-cum if you don't--" he tries for words, but he's mewling and moving against your mouth. you pull at his pants, hooking your fingers in his boxers and bringing them down, too.

Spencer bucks into the air when his cock hits his stomach. it's big, precum leaking helplessly out of the tip while he whines. you want him now.

"wow." you smile. he stares at you, tensing his stomach as you wrap your hand around his length. he's trying to keep quiet, but as soon as you spit on it and start to pump him, his head falls back into the pillow.

you draw your tongue up the underside, paying special attention to the veins, reveling in his reactions. he looks like he's ascending to heaven when you start to suck on the first couple inches.

"o-oh, fuck..." he keeps moving his hips off the bed for more, so you sink down further onto him, hollowing your cheeks and moaning. "Y/N..."

you groan in response, feeling yourself get wetter with every sound he makes. you can't believe this is happening, the way he threads his fingers loosely through your hair in an attempt to touch more of you.

he tries to keep his eyes open while you suck, but they squint with pleasure. he's a mess for you, shuddering gently when you take nearly all of him into your mouth.

before he can cum, you pull your mouth off of him with a satisfying pop. Spencer moans.

"was that okay?" you ask carefully. this is the extent of your sexual experience, and you want to do more with him, but you aren't sure how he feels. your best friend stares back at you like you've turned his world upside down.

"y-yeah," he replies. his face is flushed. "definitely okay."

he's throbbing, occasionally twitching against his stomach as he waits for more stimulation. you eye him carefully.

"what do you feel comfortable doing?" your voice is smooth. "we can stop now, if you'd like."

"I--" he chokes on the word. "I don't wanna stop."

"do you want to have sex?" you ask. Spencer bites his lip, whines.

"mhmm."

"I wanna do that, too," you breathe out, straightening up and pulling your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra, before getting to work on your shorts. you know you're practically dripping. he's been more vocal, but you feel like you're going to implode from the desire. "but I need to tell you something."

"what?" he tugs your arm, coaxing you back to him and touching you greedily. you giggle as you kick your shorts and panties off somewhere in the room. both of you move like awkward teenagers.

"I'm a virgin." you say.

Spencer frowns. "really?"

"yeah," you lick your lips. "so you need to be careful."

"o-of course." he blushes, getting nervous again. "you know I'm a virgin too, right?"

"I know." you smile. he returns it sweetly, and the commotion of your bodies slows for a moment. you're so happy, you could cry.

"what?" he breaks the comfortable silence.

"I'm excited," you shrug. he's got his hands on your waist, rubbing his fingertips over your skin. then you remember something. "wait, are you allowed to have sex with your... injury?"

"it's fine." he reaches up and kisses your throat with an urgency.

"did the doctor say that?" your eyes roll while he sucks on your neck. he groans and pulls down on your waist so that your stomach presses against his cock. he ruts.

"second opinion from me." he pants. you tap his cheek playfully, move up his body until your core brushes him. he whimpers when you reach between your bodies and grip his length in your hands.

"you ready?" your voice is low. Spencer squeezes your thighs, eyes moving between your tits and your face.

"yes." he sighs. you position it, slicking him in your pussy while he wraps an arm around your waist and moans for more. your chests are pressed together, looking into each other's eyes while you slide him into you.

you have to go slow, the intrusion causing your jaw to drop. you don't breathe. he's got his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"Spencer." you whimper, dropping your head onto his chest when he's fully inside of you. his fingers rub patiently over your back.

"are you okay?" his voice is laced with a moan, trying to resist thrusting.

"yeah, just a second." you wiggle a little bit to test the boundaries. it hurts, but it also feels good. your clit is begging for more pressure, so you start to roll your hips. Reid moans loudly.

"Y/N..." he whimpers. "don't stop."

"you want more?" the need in his voice makes you hornier, and you increase the pace, despite the slight pain. you're so wet, he slides in and out without much effort.

"so-- much more." he's gasping, hands on your thighs as he watches your naked body writhe on top of him. he's never been more aroused in his life, spurred on by your scent and form and the tightness that keeps clenching around his cock.

he understands why people love sex so much, now. he wants it every day, wants to fuck you in every position and pleasure you. the sounds you release in his ear, whines and praises, he would do anything for more. walk to the ends of the earth to feel you cum on his cock.

his hand finds your ass, squeezes it.

"this feel good, Spence? fucking your best friend?" you talk dirty and he twitches. you're always so sweet, the words coming out of your mouth for him are going to send the genius into a tailspin.

"mhmm," he holds you down so that he can thrust up. speaking at all is a struggle with the way he's feeling. "perfect."

you start to say something else, but he hits a certain angle and you let out a quiet yelp, hips jumping at the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum."

Spencer gets a rush of relief because it's taking everything in him right now not to absolutely lose it inside your pussy. he's hanging on by a thread. "me, too."

you use your position on top to stimulate yourself. both of you chase your orgasms roughly, the rhythm you created degenerating into clawing excitement.

"cum inside me, Spencer." you beg him. it sounds like you would do anything to feel it, that sensation that you've never experience but have always imagined. and Spencer, his own head foggy with ecstasy, nods and opens his mouth to let out a loud groan.

"Y/N, fuck fuck fuck-- I'm--" he shoots his load inside of you, rutting wildly and letting his head drop onto the pillow while he pants. you can feel it. strange, lovely jolts of his seed spreading. your hands, which have been resting on his shoulders, tighten and you reach your climax. you flutter around him, both of you still moving to ease the intensity of the high.

it's remarkable. you're crying out, having the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. you never thought your first time would be like this. but you're glad it is, muscles tightening and releasing with the mixture of emotions.

you collapse fully, him still inside.

neither of you speaks. his heartbeat thuds against your ear, and you hold onto him like letting go would be the end of the world. you can't believe you could have lost him. you don't want to think about it.

"sorry I came so fast." Spencer apologizes breathlessly. you can feel his cum dripping down your entrance when he slides out.

"I don't care." you mumble. both of you stay there for a while, his heartbeat changing to a pace that reminds you of genuine excitement. like a hummingbird.

"we can try again, sometime." he offers. you lift your head to rest your chin on his chest. his skin is flushed, pupils dilated, hair messy. such a pretty boy.

"we should try multiple times."

he gives you a cheerful smile, and everything starts to fall into place. you took each other's virginity. "Y/N?"

he likes to say your name, and you love to hear it. "yes?"

"are we dating?" the bluntness of the question makes you giggle. you don't hesitate.

"yeah."

“good.”

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed!): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm @xoxomgg

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #baby spence #mgg #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler

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giuliafc · 3 years

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Chinese horoscopes and Miraculous

Hi there!

I actually wrote this article for a Facebook group during the summer, but i had completely forgotten about it until I read the very in-depth analysis of Kagami's role in the series written by @geekgirles . There, she mentioned the bit in Ikari Gozen that had got me started on this research, so I thought why not? let's 'delight' you with this indepth analysis of the four characters of Marinette, Adrien, Luka and Kagami based on what we know of their zodiac signs in the Chinese horoscope. There are a couple of things that may surprise you.

First of all, let's put a lovely wee "keep reading" tag, so it doesn't clog your board, because it's a little long (ah, the understatement!)

Now. Here we are and if you clicked on carry on reading it means that you may be interested so... welcome welcome.

Apologies for the length

Let's first of all talk about how the Chinese horoscope can give us a clue as of the characters age and date of birth.

In Ikari Gozen we find out that Marinette is a Snake in the Chinese horoscope. This narrows the search for her date of birth to two very precise years. 2013 or 2001. Now... counting that if she was born in 2013 she would be 7 now, it's most likely that she's born in 2001. In the French edition she is revealed instead to be a Leo. Which places her birthday in late July/beginning of August 2001. Kagami instead is revealed to be a Dragon, and a Scorpio, which places her birthday around November 2000. In an official Marinette’s Instagram post her birthday has been revealed as the 20th of November, IIRC.

Now... not only this is a great deal of trivia information for us fans, which also helps us place the timeline of the story, which hasn't yet reached a full year in Canon from the start (in the Felix episode it's revealed that it's the first anniversary of Emilie’s disappearance. Hence in 3 series the story has advanced only by less than one year). It also helps up place the birthdays of some other characters.

Adrien for example. His birthday was series 1 episode 1, quite far from Marinette's birthday in Befana. So it's likely that he's a dragon like Kagami (which would also make sense thinking that Kagami is a character that mirrors Adrien's life and situation. But this isn't the place to discuss such thing, i refer to the very well developed article written by @geekgirles if you want to know more). A lot of people have theorised that he may be a Libra and be born maybe at the beginning of October, but of this I have no proof.

However, coming back to the Dragon sign it gets even more interesting, guys. If one of you have got more in-depth information and this comes up to be wrong I do apologise. I performed quite of an extensive research on the subject but of course I'm no astrologist so I can be wrong. That said... Not only the Dragon is considered the sign of the Emperor in the Chinese horoscope, and a lucky sign (ha). But 2000 is also the year of the Golden Dragon (metal). What better description than a golden dragon for our handsome sunshine?

It gets even better when you get to the Dragon man's personality. Loves to be the centre of the attention. Natural flirts (ha! Touché Chat Noir!). Hot headed. Stubborn. Competitive. Naturally attracts money and women. Full of energy. Do I need any more proof that Adrien is a Dragon?

Let's see what the horoscope says about the Snake, and let's compare it to Marinette/Ladybug, so you understand why I'm pretty sure that the production looked this up quite in detail and that Chinese astrology can be at the base of our beloved characters.

So the Snake woman is intuitive, intelligent, reserved and mysterious, has deep thinking, a mind that goes a mile per minute. Because they are smart and come quickly to solutions, they are great in crisis situations. They're able to step back and consider workable solutions. They are determined, sensual and smart and have innate wisdom. Doesn't this speak Marinette AND Ladybug from a mile?

Now... Luka. Until last week we weren’t really that sure of how old Luka was, Astruc had said that he was a couple of years older than Marinette, but Zag’s website had highlighted that Luka was Juleka’s twin brother which, counting that Juleka was in Marinette’s class, didn’t make any sense. But last weekend Astruc has actually confirmed that Juleka has repeated a year and that yes, Luka is her twin brother.

Already before knowing this I had a look at the personality of the previous signs in the horoscope, and I had strong feelings that Luka may be a Rabbit, which would make him born in 1999 and one year older than Adrien. And this has been confirmed, so now we know. He is indeed a rabbit. Do you want proof? Rabbit men are calm, extraordinarily polite, and will do everything to avoid conflict. They have control over themselves and are sometimes conservatives. They can be considered a "yes-man", but have a line that they will never cross. They like organising, decorating, helping the wife/gf. They are great friends but don't like getting too close to someone. They are shy, introverted, honest, cuddle-lovers and attention givers. They are associated with the western sign of cancer, which is associated with the moon and the arts. Tell me if this doesn't speak Luka by a mile?

Now a little bit of trivia that will make you laugh is... in the Chinese horoscope the cat doesn't exist. The legend says that Buddha invited the animals to a dinner, and the mouse tricked the cat and didn't wake him up, making him miss out on being chosen for the horoscope. However in TAIWAN things are different and the Cat takes the place of the RABBIT in the horoscope. The confusion seems to come from the old Chinese word for Rabbit, Mao, which sounds like the Taiwanese word for Cat Mau. So the sign of the Rabbit is also the sign of the Cat. Oh the irony!!

Snakes are yin energy. Rabbits are also yin energy. Dragons are yang energy.

But it gets better! Let's look at love compatibility, shall we? *rubs hands* hehe...

Dragon man x Dragon woman (Adrien and Kagami) can be steamy and can work only if both have their own realm to shine on, because both are too competitive and can get into competition with each other. They love to be the centre of their world. They're great leaders but want the spotlight and don't settle for less. They're both independent and stubborn and their personality will clash, making it difficult to maintain the relationship going. They require a lot of love and admiration. They will never give in and apparently two dragons have a good physical relationship, mostly.

They CAN work together, but only if each has their own way to shine.

Sorry, Adrigami shippers.

Dragon man x snake woman (Adrien and Marinette): they can be an excellent couple. They find each other physically attractive. The dragon is bold and full of energy, the snake is appealing in a more subtle way. Excellent romantic relationship, they both have strong personalities that attract each other. They share a degree of savoir-faire that prevents serious concerns. The male dragon will be tempted to stray, but he will know better than doing that, because he knows very well that his companion has hidden poisonous fangs (lol) and is VERY jealous... so he will look but not touch (the wise one will at least). Snake women love success and attention, but they're not as flashy as dragon men so they will be more subtle. Snake women are self-possessive, devoted and can give a good boost of confidence to a dragon man. She will be better at handling finances than him (that wouldn't surprise me in adrienette!). They both like fine things but Snake will teach Dragon to not overspend. Little trivia: the dragon was the sign of the emperor and the snake was the advisor. So they work very well in tandem. Their union will be full of passion and personal satisfaction.

Adrienette is in the stars, guys.

Now last but not least... Snake woman x Rabbit/cat man (Luka and Marinette, but in a way even Chat Noir and Ladybug): very good couple too, they enjoy great conversation and have great time together. They make great friends. Snake loves the attention Rabbit gives and Rabbit is drawn by her sensuousness. They start as friends and have enticing conversations, which draws them together. When they start dating they realise they have similar tastes. They love cuddling in a hidden corner and will feel safe in their cosy nest to explore each other's sensuality. They can make a strong couple, unless their personalities start clashing. Rabbit can get annoyed at Snake's love for novelty and her extravagance, which may cause friction. If their temper clashes, they can't overcome differences.

So... Lukanette can work too, sorry guys. But as highlighted, it also works very well as a friendship. And sadly it's the same for Ladynoir...

What I find funny in all of this is that, if this is true, Luka has the Snake miraculous, Marinette is a Snake sign, Luka is a cat sign, Adrien is a cat miraculous, Adrien and Kagami are a dragon sign, Kagami is a dragon miraculous... Jesus what a circle! Add to the mix Marinette as the RAT miraculous and we have a real laugh… (if any of you has ever watched Fruit Basket, the Japanese anime about the Chinese horoscope, you know perfectly well what I’m talking about!) and Snake/Rabbit as friends and potential couple works for both Lukanette AND Ladynoir, counting that rabbit = cat. And then you think about how Chat Noir bounces on his baton and you think "yes that's a rabbit, indeed"!

Any thoughts?

(apologies if this reflection doesn’t make sense to you!)

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #miraculous lb #miraculous marinette #miraculous adrien #miraculous chat noir #miraculous luka #Kagami

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lelenoir · 4 years

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pairings: childhood friend!dong sicheng x reader [ft. wong yukhei]

word count: 3.6k

synopsis: wherein sicheng always thought that he would spend the rest of his life with you. only to be smacked with the bitter truth.

dedicated to: engel @jenoir, the no to my noren.

inspired by: the song it's over, isn't it? from steven universe

note: hellooo finally got this out after rotting away for days hehe. anyways i hope you like it!! it'll probably be my last fic for a while since school and stuff and also my other blog. this was supposed to be a small drabble but i guess the universe had other plans KSKSK

DONG SICHENG ALWAYS LOVED YOU.

It was always written in his stars, always engraved in stone and he always believed that the moment he laid eyes on you he was struck by Cupid's bow and arrow. Of course, he never noticed this until later on.

It happened in your local playground. The tall---at least in his standard---five year old boy buzzing with joy as he rode his bike across the street. His hair flowed freely with the wind as he fought the urge to raise his hands up. Legs pedalling as if he was in a race against the fastest cyclists around the globe. The world blurred in his vision, pure bliss coursing through his veins. As a toddler, he didn't want that moment to end.

Unable to contain it any longer, the boy slowly let go of the handles, ghosting the rubber for a few more moments until he finally decided to let it go. For him, in his toddler state of mind, nothing could compare to the feeling he felt that moment. The street of his small childhood town zooming all around him as he let the world's breath engulf him. It looked like what Luke Skywalker saw whenever he drove a spaceship in that movie his brother always watched.

The moment only lasted for five seconds. It all happened so fast. One minute he was on top of the world, the next he was tumbling down fast. The ground hitting him hard. His hands were quick to hold on to his wounded knee as soon as he landed, eyes closed from the pain and a strong hiss leaving his lips. Tears welled up in his eyes as he watched the blood on his exposed flesh. He groaned when he tried to touch it.

"That was stupid." Three simple words. One simple statement. And you had his whole attention on you. Eyes wide from shock but you mistake it as confusion. "What you did. That was stupid." You repeated as if he was dumb. A dull look rested on your eyes as you looked down on him. It took him by surprise when he saw your extended arms in front of him. He couldn't help but gawk at the gesture. "What? Aren't you gonna take it?"

Slowly, he did. Gulping slightly as he stood up, wincing once he felt the sting of his wound. "It's just a graze. Nothing serious." You spoke up once again. His eyes looking towards your face, only to see you staring at his knee. "Do you need help walking?" You asked, finally meeting his gaze.

He was speechless. He'd never talked to anyone that wasn't his brother or his classmates. He rarely ever talked to the girls in his class, in fear of the disease his brother dubbed as cooties.

"You okay?" You quirk an eyebrow at him, making him flinch up in alertness. His hands felt slightly clammy as he clenched and unclenched them.

"Yeah…" he trailed off, voice barely a whisper. He saw you break into a smile. It shook him to the core. Especially with how intimidating you've presented yourself to be. He didn't know why but he wanted to see it again.

"So… walk?" You asked once more. It was like a switch had been turned on inside of you. Sicheng felt a bit confused on what to feel about the current change in aura as he slightly nodded his head in reply. You hummed, nodding your head once as you made your way to his fallen bike. You pulled it up with such ease. Even he had a difficult time carrying the heavy thing. You steadied the bike with your hands, walking to him as you let the bike trail next to you. "Where do you live?"

Sicheng should've felt embarrassed. After all, a girl, of all people, was walking him home. Him. It should've been the other way around. He felt like an utter loser having tears threatening to spill from his eyes while a girl carried his bike for him. He sighed, preparing himself for his brother's endless teasing.

"What's your name?" He spoke up, halfway through the walk. So far none of you thought of initiating into another conversation, basking in each other's company in the form of silence. "I'm Sicheng, Dong Sicheng."

You didn't even flinch at his question. "Y/n" you replied, eyes never leaving the path ahead until you turned your head to look at him for a second before turning back once again. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too, y/n." Maybe it was his pea sized brain or just his lack of comprehension but you clearly didn't want to start a conversation. "What school do you go to? I don't think I've ever seen you around."

"I'm homeschooled." You answered. "My mom teaches me." Sicheng gaped at the revelation, never ever meeting someone like you.

"That's so cool!" He exclaimed. "I wish I was homeschooled. That way I won't have to wake up too early just to get to school."

You only hummed in reply, ready to fall back into your comfortable silence. Sicheng suddenly gasped. "That means you don't get to see other kids!" He says it like it was the biggest breakthrough of the century. "Doesn't it get very lonely?" He laid his head to the side in question.

"Not really," you shrugged, "I'm kind of used to it."

He gasped once again. "You shouldn't though."

"'Life isn't always what you expect it to be.' is what my mom told me a lot. I guess I just preferred to accept it rather than dwell on it too much." You explained, keeping your expression as undecipherable as possible. It drove five year old Sicheng's brain crazy.

"Then I'll be your friend." He declared, pointing his thumb on his chest. "Heck, I'll be your best friend!" He shouts joyfully.

Your eyes widened at his words, not really used to such enthusiasm. Still, a small smile cracked on your features once again. He didn't know if you saw it but Sicheng felt his eyes beam up at the sight of it. You nodded your head. "Okay."

A proud smile adorned the little boy's face, not minding his previous concerns as he walked alongside you. The wound still hurt from walking but his mind seemed to have flown elsewhere, its current occupation slightly numbing the pain of his nerves.

You were the coolest girl he's ever met.

DONG SICHENG LOVED YOU UNKNOWINGLY.

Barefaced and a little tired, you laid your body down on the grass next to him. You sighed, eyes up the stars as Sicheng took it all in. Not the night sky but you. A content smile on his features as he indulged himself with your presence.

"First day of school…" you breathed out. "I wonder how everything would turn out."

He noticed the way your fingers toyed amongst themselves, saw how your breathing slowly turned erratic. In all the years Sicheng has known you, this is the first time he's ever seen you this nervous. Tomorrow was the start of highschool for the both of you. For Sicheng, he wasn't nervous. Maybe a small bit but that was normal as first day jitters. You, on the other hand, were a different story. It was your very first time coming to school after being sheltered by your mom for so long. Sure she never intended it and it was mostly your refusal to go to school that made her teach you in the first place, but none of that helped calm your nerves.

A billion questions rang in your head. A billion possibilities playing along with it. You were in a whirlpool of your own thoughts and you were gasping for air.

Luckily, Sicheng was there to pull you out. His hand intertwining with yours as he drew circles to calm you down. He knew that always calmed you. He felt your body relax next to him. A good sign. He smiled at his small accomplishment.

"Don't worry," he tightened his hold on your palms but not to the point where it would hurt. Only to make you feel his presence more. "I'll be right here."

Highschool rolled in as normally as it could. You were nervous as you walked down the halls but you kept your face relaxed. Sicheng's presence next to you adds up to your ease as he tries to tell you as much as he can about school. Still, knowing Sicheng, he wasn't really as social and loud as he was with you. In these halls he tried to put up a mask for your sake. He smiled at unfamiliar people, nodded his head whenever they greeted him and even said a few 'hi's and 'hello's just to ease your doubt.

With that you smiled. And god he would never get tired of that sight. For a moment the two of you didn't move. For a moment it was just you and him. For a moment he let himself fall for you. He wished he could stay there with you, not a care in the world as he held on to your gaze. He thanked the stars for bringing you to him.

Sadly, even that moment had to end.

He was never one for crowds but seeing your guarded position and tense posture made him want to assure you that everything was going to be okay. He offered you an assuring smile which you returned gratefully.

The bell rang, snapping the both of you back to reality. He took your hand in his, drawing circles on it like he always did. "Your class is here. If you need me I'm right across your room." He said pointing towards the wooden door a few feet away. Just then, he enveloped both his hands around yours. "I'm always here, okay?"

You sighed in relief. A firm smile on your lips as you nodded. "Okay."

With that, he lets you go. He stepped back from you, waiting for you to walk in. You straightened up your posture before turning around. You closed your eyes, preparing yourself for whatever was on the other side of the door. Counting the seconds in your head before walking inside.

Sicheng smiled proudly at your back. He waited until you turned to your left towards the chairs before he too went on his way.

You've watched plenty of teen movies to know that you should never pick the seat in front. You looked around the unfamiliar faces of the people in the room. Some eyed you curiously while most had their head on their arms, presumably asleep. You couldn't blame them, it was the first period of the first day of school. All those times running around or sleeping in during the summer before suddenly getting thrusted into school was probably annoying.

You claimed your spot by the second to the last chair by the window. You rested your cheek on the palm of your hand as you looked out, admiring the sky and the gray roads.

"Hey there," a voice spoked up. You lifted your head to see a boy. He had a big beaming smile on his face as he settled his things on the chair next to you. "I'm Xiaojun."

You watched him curiously, pursing your lips for a second before turning your gaze back to the window. "Y/n."

DONG SICHENG REALISED HE LOVED YOU WAY TOO LATE.

He often wondered if he could change it. Always counted the different ways, the different scenarios and outcomes everything would've led to. He spent many nights figuring out how he got to this path. This path that he desperately wanted to stray from. Alas, he could never. Life was a road barricaded by formidable iron walls. Once you step on to one path, the other one closes, locking you in.

He waited for you in the halls, by the door of your Psych class. The both of you were in college now. He shifted his footing before turning to the small window on the door, peeking for just a glimpse of you.

It felt weird. He thought to himself, watching you smile from ear to ear at whatever your classmates were saying. It felt like only yesterday when he met you. Closed off and very reserved. It felt so surreal not being the only person to have broken down your walls. For Sicheng, he wasn't jealous. The opposite actually. He felt proud. He loved seeing you with the company of others and loved the way you managed to grow.

Just then, you met his eyes. He smiled, lifting his hand up in a small wave. And there it is. That smile. The one only he could cause. The smile that was reserved only for him. He felt his heart pound in his chest.

One of your classmates pulled your focus away from him. Your features reverted to that easy smile you gave everyone else.

Sicheng felt his cheeks warm at the thought, his feet turning to rest his back on the wall next to your classroom door. He sighed, closing his eyes. He could see your smile as he did so. Flashing before his eyes like a Polaroid trapped in time. Forever displaying your face with that smile he loved so much.

The bell rang loudly across the corridors, making him jump a bit before composing himself. He felt so nervous today for some reason. Something inside him was commanding every bit of his body to leap out. He shook the nerves of his fingertips, taking the time to compose himself.

He waited for you to come out, almost bouncing in joy when you did. "You seem happy…" you tell him, "what's up?"

"Well I just finished all my assignments, got a high grade in an essay I stayed up for, and managed to get the last cheese burger at lunch today. All in all it's not a bad day." He answered cheekily. You rolled your eyes at the response but maintained a lighthearted expression. You smiled softly, the both of you maintaining a slow pace as you walked away from the door.

"Y/n!" A voice called out. You were quick to turn to the voice, Sicheng mimicking the action subconsciously. What greeted you was the sight of a tall panting boy. Sweat on the sides of his head as he tried to catch his breath. "Thank heavens I caught up to you."

Lucas lifted his head up, a playful smile on his face as he looked up at you. Sicheng felt his breath get caught on his throat. A nervous and unsettling feeling resting on the pit of his stomach. He didn't like this. Not one bit.

"Lucas! What a surprise." Sicheng snapped his head towards you, a subtle look of disbelief as he noticed your smile. It wasn't like the others and it wasn't the one that was for him. This was different. Your cheeks were tucked to the highest point below your eyes, face beaming with delight. Happier. Lucas wasn't any different either. A small yet noticeable pink dust spread all across his face. His gaze focused solely on you as if in a trance.

Lucas breathed to his nose, bowing his head a bit before returning back to you. "Are we still going on Friday?" He asked, hopeful.

Sicheng could visibly see you elate with his words. His jaw clenched subconsciously as your whole face grew brighter. No. His palms grew hotter on his sides, his heart pounding nervously as he held on to your next words.

"Sure." And just like that, he felt his heart ache. His previous mood going down in the slumps in an instant. Still, he held his head up high. His face stoic and unwavering. From afar you wouldn't have noticed the storm in his eyes.

"That's great," He heard Lucas sigh in relief. They make eye contact for a brief moment, both of them narrowing at one another before breaking it abruptly. You fail to notice the quick exchange, wrapping your arms around Sicheng's and already pulling him away.

"See you on Friday!" You called out over your shoulder.

Right. Sicheng shouldn't fret. He is your best friend. He's known you ever since you caught him that fateful day with his bicycle. Lucas stood nothing against him when it came to you. He was confident. The air around him lightened as you rested your head on whatever part of his arm you could reach.

"I missed hanging out with you." You whispered. He knew you weren't looking at him. It was a habit of yours to avoid his gaze whenever you grow sentimental. "You're my best friend yet I feel like you're worlds away from me now." You continued. "We're okay, right?"

Sicheng turned to look at you, watching your face contort to a frown. He sighed. He shifted your bodies so the two of you faced each other. He took his arm out of yours before resting both of his palms on your cheeks. "We're okay. Okay?" You smiled sheepishly at his words, nodding your head. He pushed you to his chest, hugging you tightly. You could slightly hear his heartbeat relax, making you sigh. "You're my best friend. We've been through hell and back together. I don't think anything would change that."

He's fine. He assures himself. There had been plenty of guys before Lucas. Plenty that you have downright rejected: Xiaojun from highschool, Hendery during summer and many others after. He shouldn't be worried. In the many years he has known you, he was sure the two of you would end up together. He just needed the right moment.

Sicheng was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve. In fact, you've never actually seen him romantically with a girl. But whenever you felt down in the dumps, he was sure to give his all to you. He'd wrap you up close, shower you with attention and do everything he can to make you feel better. At the same time, Sicheng was also a very emotional kid. Oftentimes it was he who cried on your shoulders and you'd be there to listen. You were each other's support system. The very rock that keeps you grounded. From childhood and now as you both walk wherever.

This was the first time it began to collapse.

He felt the air get knocked out of his lungs, watching as the scene unfolded right before his eyes; the gleeful smile on your face, the mirroring adoration in both your gazes, and finally a chaste but unconcealable kiss. The obvious buzz of love and its first stages oozing out of the two of you and Sicheng could do nothing but watch it all happen.

Friday. He never thought he would hate a day like it. The day before the relaxation of the weekends. The day you used to come to his house for a movie marathon. The day you went back to him with the happiest smile he's ever seen on you. The day he finally lost everything.

Wong Yukhei. He clicked his tongue at the name. Jealousy growing in the deepest depths of his gut, eyes green and angry. Seeing his stupid smile and the noticeable look of triumph on his features. The boy holding you close. Then he looked at you; hair a mess because of the wind with eyes as bright as the sun.

DONG SICHENG NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU.

It was impossible. A scientific improbability. Not when you still come over during the weekends. Not when you still give him that smile. Not when you hold him so close that for a moment he fools himself to thinking it was all real. Not even when he raised his glass.

He glared at the small box on his hands. Tears brimming his eyes. He felt like he just crashed his bike all over again. Only this time, you weren't there to walk him home.

"A toast," he started, the low baritone of his voice grabbing everyone's attention, "to the newly wed couple, Y/n & Lucas."

It felt painful. Perhaps, the strongest pain he's ever felt. Years ago, he never saw this coming. He was fine. He was fine with all the other men that came into your life. Mostly because he knew no one could've compared to him and the bond you shared. He knew all your favorite movies, all your pet peeves, and everything that made you scared. Yet, he wasn't the one standing by your side right now. He wasn't the groom, the man you were going to spend your life with. He wasn't that.

"It's a miracle how you've managed to put up with her." It was a joke. "Lord knows I barely could." And another one. "Still, she's a very great person." That was real. "And I'm glad she's found someone to spend the rest of her days with." He was not. "We've spent the majority of our lives together as best friends. The day you helped me with my bike was the best day of my life. Lucas, you better take care of her or else." He warned jokingly, glaring playfully at the boy as he chuckled in reply and nodded his head. Sicheng could barely hold it in. "To the Wongs!"

And that was the end. A series of cheers and holler followed right after. You smiled at him and he could do nothing but return it. He watched you turn to Lucas and beam brighter. He sighed.

He wandered out, past the crowd of overjoyed relatives and friends. He pushed the balcony doors open, letting it fall to a close. The first drops of his sorrows slipping down carelessly and he did nothing to wipe them off. The wine in his glass reflected his pitiful expression and all he could do was stare before putting it down hastily. He didn't like the sight. It was over. It was all over. Isn't it?

He felt a strong pang in his chest and he found it hard to breath. He looked over disdainfully at the floor, fist clenched to his sides.

Why can't I move on?

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baloobird · 4 years

Text

Because I Said So

by @baloobird for @searching4sanity716 I hope you like this!!! 💜💜💜

This is my submission to the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!!!

Ao3 Link (but it’s not revealed yet)

Words: 10.1k (hehe whoops)

Rating: Not Rated

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & May Parker, May Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker

**Slight Trigger Warning: mention of an eating disorder accusation but there’s no actual eating disorder. Attempted kidnapping while on patrol but it’s stopped before it goes anywhere**

Summary: He should be used to it by now, this almost constant state of hunger, and he knows he should say something to May.

But he can’t.

When his aunt found out about Spider-Man, she - understandably so - wanted to know any and all things about this double life: his powers, how they work, how they affect him, and the like.

So Peter told her everything…except for one small, teeny tiny detail.

That he now has a faster metabolism than everyone else.

Peter doesn't tell May that he has to eat more than the average person because he knows how tight money is for them. He knows his aunt can't afford it so why say anything? And besides, he's fine.

Honestly.

No way is this going to come back and bite him in ass…absolutely not.

Adding my taglist here but the fic will be under the cut. I hope you enjoy!!!

Taglist: @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @dexteritymisdirectionsuggestion @peuty @starkaroos2034 @marvel-us-world @podcastsandcoffee @bestofirondadfics @mmmmmmmmmchicken @riseuplikeglitterandgold @desirexwolf @theoceanphoenixhasrisen @ultravioletstark @just-the-daydreamer @my-leg-is-not-a-chew-toy @diminajackson @theofficialdeannawinchester @whatwasmyprevioususername @spidey-mood @autisticbabynurse @ironmanismydad @tinyandsteven @dreamingformuses @smokesteamair @intuitive-mathgeek @softrdj @legendarypenofeating @petermyspiderson @zselenophile @shymothstudios @and-so-my-adventures-begin @sarcasticmusic @fandomsofrandom @cluusheen @mjc-dream @emygirl @pxterbpxrker @pawprinterfanfic @innocent-until-proven-geeky @blackwatchandromeda @jaelyn-karrett @iron-damn @unnoted-invisible @pixeltrix-13 @anyonewantathroatsweet @m0ther-of-dragons @chaos-with-a-pen @spideynamu @bthtallmadge2 @verdonafrost @the-reverse-mermaid @icymapletree @kitkatwinchester @irondad-is-cannon-bitch @brushes-of-sage @ghostinthebau @canonismybitch @tmifangirl24 @loverofstuffsworld @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @i-write-disney-not-tragedies @drowned-in-books @peanutdoodles @hauntedbybleachella @aelinasardothien @tonystark-built-this-in-a-cave @tonystarkweneedyou @spideygirl2003 @7peternotparker7 @justme--emily @dongjiayun @dykeragee @jmercer1997 @swagfictionreadingnerd @dredfulhapiness @fallenstar07

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Peter has been staring at that damn clock for about thirty minutes now.

But only one minute has actually passed.

Why do the last ten minutes of class always feel like another fucking hour?

Despite time moving as slow as molasses, the teenager keeps staring at the clock, seeing his life tick away closer and closer to death.

Hey, it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than learning about the Industrial Revolution.

Whoever decided to make AP History the last class of the day deserves to be shot like Abraham Lincoln.

Ten more minutes until Mr. Stark. Ten more minutes until I can finally freaking eat.

As if reading his mind, the boy’s stomach releases yet another growl, so loud that a few of the surrounding students give him weird looks, making him flush in embarrassment.

The hero smiles sheepishly as he wraps his arms around his torso, hoping to suppress any more incoming rumbles.

God, he is so fucking hungry, as he has been for the last couple of hours.

He should be used to it by now, this almost constant state of hunger, and he knows he should say something to May.

But he can’t.

When his aunt found out about Spider-Man, she - understandably so - wanted to know any and all things about this double life: his powers, how they work, how they affect him, and the like.

So Peter told her everything…except for one small, teeny tiny detail.

That he now has a faster metabolism than everyone else. With the powers of his super strength, stickiness, and “spidey sense”, it’s no wonder he developed an increase in his appetite as well.

Of course he wants to tell May, he desperately wants to tell her to buy more food, to make enough dinner to feed four instead of two.

But he’d be an idiot not to notice how tight money is for them. Peter doesn’t miss the bills with the dreaded red stamp that states “past due”, or the student loan payments that she is at least a couple of months behind on.

“You, food, and shelter are always my first priorities, you know that,” May has said on more than a few occasions.

While yes, she always has enough for rent, food, and their phones, the kid would be lying if he said that their water and power have never been shut off. And he can’t count how many months they’ve had to go without wi-fi.

Thank God libraries exist or he’d never get any homework done.

So the teen does what he can to keep from going completely insane from lack of food consumption: since he’s a part of that free lunch program, he thankfully always has a lunch - even though it’s not enough to leave him satisfied - and Ned, the wonderful, amazing best friend that is Ned always packs an extra apple or another sandwich to give him so he won’t feel like he’s completely passing out by the time history class rolls around.

But even then he can hardly stand it.

Peter keeps his arms wrapped around him, watching the clock at the front of the classroom like a hawk.

Watching the last seven minutes tick by at the slowest possible speed.

The genius feels his head start to droop with fatigue and jerks it upright, keeping it from slamming completely onto his desk. He winces as he feels his stomach release another round of grumbling and squeezes it to keep it quiet, even though it won’t do him any good.

He ignores the more questioning looks from his peers but he doesn’t miss the sympathetic one his best friend is giving him from the next desk over.

Peter looks away almost immediately. He already feels embarrassed enough for his obnoxious stomach, he can’t stand someone looking as if he’s a charity case.

Which is exactly why he hasn’t told Tony about this either.

He jerks his head up yet again after feeling it droop for a second time and stares at the clock once more.

Five minutes, just five more minutes, Spider-Man.

The teenager misses his masked alter ego. He hasn’t been able to don the red and blue as much lately for a number of reasons such as homework and decathlon.

The most annoying one being that he can’t patrol but for so long without Karen taking notice of his decreasing glucose levels which she would then send to Tony and the last thing he wants is for his billionaire hero to find out about his money troubles.

Peter takes a deep breath, constantly reminding himself to keep his eyes open, damn it, he refuses to fall asleep four minutes before the last bell.

He’ll sleep after he eats all of his hero’s food.

Because when he stays with Tony, he pigs out, eating enough food to feed a “whole army” his mentor has jokingly said.

And since Peter is planning to stay the night, he relishes in going back home that Saturday with a more than satisfied stomach.

Well, for a few hours anyway, until he gets to what his current situation is now.

The boy looks back at the clock.

Two minutes left, hell fucking yes.

God, he needs carbs if he has any hope of staying awake on his way to the tower.

He just needs food in general.

Any food…allllll the food.

The bell rings at long last, leaving Peter wishing he could race out the doors but he’s too sluggish to exert that much energy. Again, he ignores his friend’s pitying looks as he gets his things before walking as fast as he can to his father figure’s car.

The second he gets in and gives his mentor a tired smile, the volcano that is his stomach erupts in yet another growl, announcing the hunger it so desperately craves.

Tony giggles as he makes his way to exit the parking lot, “Somebody’s hungry, huh?”

You have no idea.

His protege sheepishly giggles himself, wrapping his arms around his stomach once again, “Uh yeah, sorry.”

“Only you would say sorry about being hungry,” the mechanic says with a snort, “McDonald’s drive-thru sound good to you?”

“Please, I can taste the Big Mac already.”

“How many do you want?”

“Uh,” Peter holds back as slight anxiety sets in, “Two?”

As they stop at a red light, his mentor gives him a deadpan look, obviously not believing him, and repeats, “Pete, how many do you want?”

“Four?” Said kid answers in a questioning tone, covering himself in case Tony thinks the number is too high. He then adds on, “All with fries? Please?”

Tony smiles down at his kid, ruffling his hair while keeping one hand on the steering wheel, “How many times have I told you that you don’t need to be shy around me when it comes to eating?”

“I know,” his interns says, slumping his shoulders but taking full advantage of this “curls massage” to keep his mind off his hunger, “I just feel bad -”

“Don’t,” the older man says, firm but keeping a gentle undertone, “If you’re hungry, you’re getting food, that’s the rule when you’re around me. It doesn’t matter if you want to eat the entire damn cow, you’re getting it.”

Peter feels a warmth filter through him at that, leaning closer to his father figure and smiling serenely at the hair ruffling, squeezing his stomach as it continues to gurgle periodically.

Tony lets go when the light turns green, his attention back on the road, “Didya even eat today, good Lord, kid.”

Barely.

“Yes,” the tyke responds, drawing out the syllable, “If I didn’t, you’d have to carry me to the tower.”

“That’s a terrifying image.”

“Relax, Mr. Stark, I’m more careful than that,” Peter responds with a cheeky smile.

It’s true, he thinks. Despite the constant hunger, he’s always been careful, never letting it get to the point of him not functioning as a human being should.

Yes, he’s hungry all the time, but not that hungry.

It’s fine.

It’s fiiiiiiine.

“You lost me at ‘careful’, does the word ‘Vulture’ mean anything to you?”

“Hey, I stopped him, didn’t I?”

Tony rolls his eyes with a defeated sigh, “Yeah, touché.”

Peter snickers in brief victory as they pull up to the drive-thru ordering station, “Hey, I may be clumsy but I’m still careful.”

“Jury’s still out on that one,” his mentor responds with his own snicker before lowering his window, turning towards the microphone. After the usual polite greetings, he says his order, making sure to order for himself as well, “Five Big Macs, five large fries, a Diet Coke, Dr. Pepper, and a side salad.”

“Ranch dressing okay?” The fast-food employee asks as Peter gives his father figure a look of pure confusion.

“Yeah, sure.”

“We’ll have your total for you at the first window.”

“Thanks,” Tony says, driving around the curve to the upcoming window.

Peter asks, “You got a salad? At McDonald’s?”

“No, I got it for you, you really think I’m gonna let you eat four Big Macs and no greens?”

“There’s lettuce on the burgers -”

“Nice try.”

“Jeez, ‘Helicopter Mom’, much?”

“You’ll thank me later when your stomach doesn’t hate you.”

For once.

Peter rolls his eyes as his stomach continues acting like a bear, looking on as his hero gives the cashier his credit card.

Eh, it’s more food, I’ll take it.

The second the boy takes his first bite of that heavenly, artery-filling burger, it takes all of his strength not to guzzle it down in five bites or less. He’s unfortunately learned from experience that not eating much for a week and then consuming enough food in one sitting to feed his entire apartment building equates to seeing all of that food again in a not so appetizing manner.

So by the time they get to the tower, only one burger is consumed and about half of an order of fries, yet the spiderling’s stomach is still growling. They settle in at the kitchen counter, with Tony digging into his own burger and fries, making light chatter with Peter unashamedly talking with his mouth full.

That Friday night and Saturday morning are spent in bliss, in more ways than one. The two heroes did their usual thing in the lab, Tony helped his kid with some of his homework, kicked back on the couch, and the tyke’s stomach was never not satisfied.

If only he could feel this way all the time.

The older man actually made dinner that night and told Peter he can take home the leftovers for him and May.

The teen’s heart did what felt like an actual backflip. He gratefully accepted the leftovers with absolute no intentions on sharing it with his aunt, instead his mind going into “math-mode” on how he can ration this throughout the week.

And when Happy drops him off that Saturday afternoon, he’s filled with the most energy he’s had since the previous time with his mentor, damn near skipping to his room in excitement to put on his suit and soar through the skies.

Until he sees May in the kitchen sporting a look of grim disappointment, and his whole demeanor falls immediately.

What happened? I haven’t done anything lately…at least I don’t think I have.

Hold up, did somebody die?

“Um,” Peter starts, gripping the straps on his backpack and praying his aunt can’t smell the leftover pot roast, “May, is everything okay?”

The nurse sighs despairingly, doing nothing to help her nephew’s case, “No,” she taps the barstool next to her, swinging it out, “We need to talk.”

The teenager’s anxiety spikes instantly.

Must she say the most horrible phrase in the English language?

Peter carefully sets his backpack on the couch before walking over and sitting on the designated stool, “Uh…what is it?”

“This,” his aunt slides a piece of paper over to him, “Progress reports were released yesterday and I didn’t check the portal until this morning. Explain this to me.”

Wait, progress reports? School isn’t even an issue, what the hell?

He looks down at the report and studies his grades, most of which are “A’s”, other than a “B-plus” that ruins the streak.

Fuck English and those fucking essays.

And there, at the bottom of the report, is his grade in AP History.

A “D.”

A big, fat, ugly “D.”

“What the hell?” Peter whispers in shock. This isn’t possible, he thinks, he’s never gotten anything below a “B” in, well, anything. School has always been his strong suit.

While yes, there were a couple of history quizzes he did less than stellar on, but shit happens, it certainly wouldn’t cause his grade to jump to a fucking “D.”

“There has to be a mistake,” he exclaims, still staring at the report with wide eyes, “There’s no way -”

“Really? No way?” May counters, voice a mixture of both anger and disappointment.

Making Peter want to crawl under a rock and die.

His aunt goes on, “Read the teacher’s comment.”

I don’t wanna.

The boy swallows a lump in his throat, reluctantly flipping over the page. He skims down until he sees the one for history and reads the comment.

Mr. Parker is no doubt a gifted student but he has difficulty with paying attention in class. While he does well on the homework, he lacks applying what he’s learned towards the tests and quizzes, both of which carry heavier percentages than the homework itself. I suggest taking more time to study, pay more attention in class, and, if possible, seek a tutor.

Peter scans over that comment who knows how many times.

Okay…maybe he’s done less than stellar on more than just a couple of quizzes.

How did he not see this, how in the fuck did he not know how bad his grade dropped?

The boy feels his stomach gurgle as it digests the last of his lunch that he had before he left to come back home.

Then it clicks.

Shit.

By the last class of the day, the food he’d eat at lunch has long since digested and his body is already begging for more.

So much so that he loses focus on the class and instead does what he can to keep himself sane until he can eat more food.

And the only reason why he’s able to do well on the homework is exactly that, he does it at home, where he’s hungry, but it’s bearable enough to where he can still concentrate.

At school, where he feels like his stomach might actually fall out of his body, leaves little room for concentration.

Peter looks back at his guardian with wide eyes, “I can explain.”

“Really? ‘Cuz I’m dying to hear it.” May lets out a light, humorless laugh, “I just, I just can’t believe we’re having a conversation about this. School was something I never had to worry about with you, what gives? Are you and Ned passing notes? Is there a girl you like that’s distracting you -”

“May, oh my God, I’m not ten,” her nephew says, annoyance in his tone, “And there’s no girl, for the record.”

“Then what is it, Peter?” May counters, getting annoyed herself, “Do you not understand the material, do you need a tutor -”

“No, no I don’t need a tutor. Look, I’m sorry, I’ll bring it up by the time report cards come -”

“You really think it’s that much of an easy fix?”

“Yes, look, May, it’s just a progress report, it doesn’t mean anything -”

“Oh, really now?” She asks, raising her voice slightly, “If they don’t mean anything, then why do they exist, huh? How would you feel if this was your report card? You’d lose your scholarship, Peter.”

Fuck, the fucking scholarship.

The teenager puts his head in his hands, his heart feeling heavy at the thought of being forced to leave Midtown, “Pretty shitty, yeah. May, I’m sorry, I didn’t know it got this bad, I promise I’ll bring it up. There’s a test next week, I’ll make sure to study for it.”

“Oh, you certainly will, no question, because until I see this ‘D’ disappear,” May hesitates before she says, “No more Spider-Man.”

“No!” The fifteen-year-old exclaims, head snapping right to his guardian, “May, please, please don’t take Spider-Man away from me. He’s what keeps me sane, c’mon, please.”

“He’s why your grade dropped, isn’t it?” The nurse asks, her only redeeming factor is that she doesn’t seem to like punishing him any more than he does, “That’s it, you’re too excited to be Spider-Man that you can’t concentrate on the class -”

“No, that’s not it! -”

“Then what is? Peter, help me understand ‘cuz I don’t know what the hell this is.”

The words are on the tip of his tongue.

I don’t get enough to eat.

He could say it, right here right now, he could say it. He would get to eat, and he could still be Spider-Man.

But May would feel awful.

And he can’t stand to see her more upset than she already is.

“You’re right,” Peter forces out, mentally kicking himself, “Yeah, it’s Spider-Man,” he concludes brokenly.

“That settles it then,” May confirms, voice small and filled with remorse, “No Spider-Man until you get your report card. And in three weeks, if I see anything less than a ‘C-plus’, it’s gonna be a long while before you see that suit again, you understand?”

As much as he doesn’t want to, the boy slowly nods his head, “This is so not fair -”

“It’s not up for discussion. Dinner’ll be in a few hours,” his guardian says, getting out of her chair to start chopping vegetables.

Peter quickly gets out of his own chair and gets his things before dragging himself to his room, the last thing he wants to do is look at his aunt let alone talk to her.

He gets to his room and slams the door, dropping his things and plopping onto his bed face down. He smushes his face on his pillow and screams into it as loud as he can without alerting May before slumping in defeat.

Words can’t express how mad he is at his guardian but it’s nowhere near how mad the kid is at himself.

How stupid was he? How did he not notice how bad he’s doing in the class? How could he have let it get this far?

And now there’s no more Spider-Man to at least soften the blow.

As much as he knows he needs to study, he doesn’t, he’d rather just lay in his bed and wallow in self-pity for the next week or so.

That’s just what he does until May calls out that dinner is ready. Peter wants to rebel by skipping dinner but realistically, he’d pass out if he doesn’t eat, and he wants to save those leftovers for as long as he can.

Dinner is the epitome of awkward.

Not much small talk is made as the kid eats his food as fast as humanly possible, afterward spending the rest of the night drowning out his thoughts through YouTube videos before succumbing himself to torture and digging out his history book.

No way is he letting the late 1800’s ruin his double life and his future.

The following week, he gets to work.

Unfortunately, his teacher doesn’t offer extra credit but he did say that if Peter continues doing well on the homework, studies hard for the upcoming quizzes and test, along with the paper due at the end of the month, the teen could have the potential to bring his grade up to a “B-minus”, maybe even a “B” if he aces them.

As long as his report card is above a “C-plus”, he doesn’t give a shit what it is.

The hero decides not to eat the extra food Ned gives him right at lunch and instead scarfs it down right before history. It doesn’t fill him up by any means but his stomach won’t sound like a thunderstorm either. Then when he gets home, he eats some of Tony’s leftovers, leaving his hunger manageable enough to make it to dinner.

It works for that week, to the teen’s pleasant surprise. Who knew that eating can make a person more focused and actually pay attention?

With this new routine, not only does the boy continue doing well on the homework but he damn near aces both of his next quizzes with a “B-plus” and “A-minus” respectively. The higher his grades get, the more confident he feels, he can almost taste the sweet freedom of swinging through the air and becoming one with the wonders of Queens.

Hell yes, Peter thinks, he’ll be back to donning the red and blue in no time.

However, that second week proves to be tougher than the first.

For one, Peter finished the leftovers; he didn’t want to, but he knew the food would eventually go bad if he kept it for much longer so he bit the bullet. Pair that with his dinner that night, it made him the most satisfied he'd felt since that waiter at the Thai restaurant gave May an extra plate of food for free.

God, why can’t that happen again?

He sticks to the same routine at school but when he gets home, he limits himself to a small snack to keep him satisfied until dinner.

But that has yet to work.

The teenager is having a hard time concentrating on his homework. The calculus that he normally breezes through is taking him twice as long to complete, same with physics, and he’s forced to put off history until after dinner, where his stomach doesn’t feel like it’s falling out and giving him enough energy to finish it with a passing grade.

Which is where Peter is finding himself now the night before that dreaded history test.

He huffs in frustration as he stares down at his dense brick of a history textbook, words blurring together as he reads over the same page for the fourth fucking time - and maybe the information might actually stay in his brain for once - and starving despite fixing himself a sandwich earlier.

Maybe his dinner should’ve had more sustenance than that but what the hell, he doesn’t know how to cook and May’s going to be at work until like midnight, he had to fix something.

Even though it’s only eight o’clock, the kid’s eyes are drooping with fatigue, resisting the urge to fall asleep on his book and thus making his chance of passing his test get slimmer and slimmer.

That lousy sandwich didn’t do shit.

Peter lightly slaps his cheek to wake himself up and he continues reading through that same page…again.

Why can’t I learn history dates as good as math formulas, this shit’s exhausting.

He studies as much as he can, going from the textbook to his chicken-scratch notes and now graded past homework and quizzes. Yet the more he tries to memorize political figures, the more he focuses on the food that’s in each and every one of the kitchen cabinets.

As if reading his mind once again, his stomach gurgles with hunger.

Okay, I think I saw another apple in the fridge. I mean, it can’t hurt.

Oh my God, and there’s a bag of chips we haven’t opened yet, maybe May won’t notice if I eat a few…or the whole fucking bag.

Maybe she’ll forget she bought them, no harm, no foul.

The hero’s mouth starts salivating at that. He can’t keep torturing himself like this, he has to get something to eat. Just as he’s about to do so, he hears a scream from outside his window.

“No!”

Peter’s head jerks to the window behind him, eyebrows narrowing in curiosity.

He’s normally pretty good at tuning out the murmurs that flood the mean streets of Queens…but that sounded close.

Too close.

Like right-outside-his-apartment-building close.

His worry grows when he hears another scream that sounds like it’s coming from the same person.

“Let go of me!”

Not just a person.

A kid.

Peter is out of his chair in less than a second. He opens his window and peeks out from the corner so he can’t be seen. After a few seconds of searching, his eyes land on a scuffle across the street between a middle-aged man with a black hoodie covered face and a little boy who can’t be older than eight or ten years old.

“You’re not my dad!” The boy cries, trying to get out of the man’s grasp.

“Shit,” Peter whispers, “Shit, shit, shit.”

The physiological need now forgotten, the hero races to his closet while he’s hurriedly taking off his clothes, putting on his suit in record time, and keeping a close ear on the scary situation at hand.

Okay, save the kid, come back, save the kid, come back…

He knows he’s breaking his aunt’s trust - which is saying something considering he kept this identity from her for almost a year - but he can’t just sit here and study shit that’s already happened while a child is being kidnapped.

The boy hears the usual greetings from Karen after putting on the mask, looking out the window once more before sneaking out of it, climbing the last few stories so he can scope the situation from the rooftop. He hears the little boy yell out again, “Let go of me!” but the kidnapper keeps dragging him along, mumbling some shit that Peter doesn’t find relevant to comprehend.

The teen swings to the next building, following the kidnapper and the poor little kid. He tells his AI, “Karen, activate web grenades.”

“Web grenades activated,” she responds, her usual robotic manner sounding out of place given the circumstances.

The spiderling swings to a building ahead of the criminal and waits patiently from the rooftop, web shooter aimed at the guy.

Keep walking, keep walking…aaaaand YEET.

He presses the button and a whole net of web fluid goes flying, trapping the kidnapper and hitting him against the wall of a closed bank. Unfortunately, the kid’s left hand got caught up in it and stuck around the web as well.

And he starts wailing.

Peter webs his way over in seconds, ignoring any bullshit the criminal is shouting, and lands in front of the boy.

He starts speaking words of reassurances, keeping his voice as soft and non-threatening as possible, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, I gotcha, you’re okay.” The teen whispers to his AI, “Karen, call the police.”

“Already in pursuit, Peter.”

“Thanks.” Peter uses his super strength to tear the boy’s hand free, applying a small amount of web fluid to keep the net intact. He kneels in front of the kid and asks, keeping his voice light, “Hey, I’m Spider-Man. Are you okay, did he hurt you?”

The boy sniffles, wiping away a few tears with his sleeve. He holds out his left hand as he says shakily, “Just m-my-my, my hand…he was, he was holding it too tight.”

The teenager sighs in relief, thanking God that nothing worse happened. He ignores his stomach’s occasional growls as he asks, “I’m sorry he hurt your hand, buddy. Do you know where your parents are?”

The boy hastily shakes his head, eyes widening in fear, “My-My mom, we were walking and-and there were all these people and, and I-I let go of Mommy’s hand but I didn’t mean to!” His panic increases the more he talks, “Someone, someone uh, someone bumped into me, it was an accident -”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, it’s not your fault, these things happen sometimes. So you got separated from your mom and that’s how you got lost?”

The little boy nods his head, wiping the last of his tears from his eyes, “And, and then, and then he,” he points to his attempted kidnapper, “Grabbed my hand and wanted to take me away.”

“He’s lying,” the offender says from the other side of the web net. Without even looking at the guy, Peter shoots a web at his face, successfully shutting him up.

The hero hears sirens in the distance and smiles from behind the mask, “The police are coming soon and they’re gonna help you find your mom, okay? Can you tell me your name?”

“J-Josh.”

“Well, Josh,” the teen holds out his fist as a police car turns the corner, “It was very nice to meet you.”

“Thanks, Spider-Man,” Josh smiles as he gives his hero a soft fist bump, biting his lip as he asks, “Can you stay until I find my mom?”

Another stomach growl escapes the spiderling but again, he pushes it down, “Of course, buddy.”

Law enforcement finally arrives and a female officer approaches the boy, taking his hand as the young genius stands up. His anxiety starts to rise as he starts to feel unexpectedly dizzy and he’s forced to put a hand on the wall to steady him.

Karen says into his ear, “Glucose levels decreasing rapidly, I suggest you seek appropriate nutrition or I can contact Mr. Stark -”

“No,” Peter commands, “Look, I’ll eat something after we find his mom, okay, just don’t tell Mr. Stark -”

“Are you talking to yourself?” Josh asks, turning around to look at the hero in confusion.

“Uh, just, um,” the other boy stutters, spinning around and again, having to use the wall to steady him, “Uh, Bluetooth.”

The little kid raises an eyebrow but simply shrugs and continues walking away, still holding the officer’s hand.

Peter uses his super strength to free the criminal and his mouth only for the guy to be arrested by two other officers. As they’re walking to a second police cruiser, the kid finds himself having to take short breaths and are his eyes deceiving him or is everything going suddenly blurry?

I thought my powers fixed my eyesight.

Karen again whispers in her owner’s ear, “Glucose levels are drastically low. Willing to contact Mr. Stark -”

“Please, Karen, no,” the spider-boy sharply whispers back, “I literally live here, I’ll eat something when I get back.”

“My concern isn’t when you’ll eat, but for if you can make it back at all. I have no choice -”

“Yes you do, don’t call him.”

Peter walks over to Josh, seeing his kidnapper being handcuffed and put in a car from the corner of his eye, albeit a blurry one, and says, “How you doing, little buddy?”

“Great! They found my mom, she called the police after I got lost and they’re bringing her here.”

Thank fuck.

“That’s great,” the hero says with as much energy as he can pull together, “I have to go now so you be safe, okay?”

“I’m never letting go of Mommy’s hand ever again.”

God, they’re so innocent.

“That’s good, good lesson,” Peter takes a couple more deep breaths as he stands up, ignoring the lightheadedness swirling in his brain, and with a friendly, “Have a good night”, he swings as fast as he can to his apartment.

Food, food, food, food, food…

The teenager sluggishly climbs back through his window and takes off his mask, swaying on his feet as his fingers start to shake. He starts to head over to the kitchen but grips onto the ladder of his bunk bed to let his vision catch up to him.

But then he looks at his bed.

His wonderful, heavenly, comfortable bed.

God, he’s so tired.

No, I gotta eat something.

However, he inches closer and closer to his bed, his world literally swirling around him in such a way that he’s amazed he can still stand up.

Maybe a little nap wouldn’t hurt.

He’ll just eat something when he wakes up.

No harm, no foul.

Peter then gets into position and starts to belly flop onto his bed.

I’ll just take a nap riiiiiiiight here -

He is out cold before his head even hits the pillow.

“Boss, Mr. Parker is in distress.”

Tony’s head snaps up from the TV, gaze going to the ceiling, “What happened? He’s not supposed to be Spider-Manning.”

“Sending Karen’s information to your phone now.”

The man’s phone vibrates on the end table barely a second later. He hurriedly grabs it, reading what’s on the screen.

“Peter Parker’s glucose levels are devastatingly low. His vitals indicate that he is suffering from malnutrition and needs to seek medical attention immediately -”

“FRIDAY, call a suit,” Tony exclaims as he’s getting off of the couch, waiting to hear the rest while on his way to his kid.

“Yes, boss.”

“Kid, what the fuck are you doing?” Tony mumbles as he’s racing to the lab. In no time but it feels like too much time, he punches in his code and walks into the room, instantly getting into his suit, “FRIDAY, read me the rest of what Karen sent, put Peter’s vitals up on the screen.”

“Yes, boss, tracking his location now.”

The hero is out and flying to the location on the GPS only to see that the destination is at…the Parkers’ apartment.

The kid isn’t out.

And Tony has no idea if that’s a good thing or not.

Now knowing where he’s going, he turns off the GPS, trying not to let any panic set in at the boy’s ever slowly decreasing levels.

Or at the open window leading into the kid’s bedroom.

The billionaire stops right outside the window, carefully slipping inside and lifting up his faceplate.

He sees the tyke out cold on the bottom bunk of his bed, his left hand gripping his mask and a small puddle of drool next to his mouth. Tony would’ve thought this was adorable if he wasn’t so worried.

The older man kneels next to his kid and gives him a slight nudge, “C’mon, Pete, it’s time to wake up.” He nudges him a little more.

And a little more.

Tony gets more desperate as his anxiety skyrockets, “Peter, this isn’t funny, c’mon, wake up, we gotta get your idiotic ass fed yesterday.”

But Peter makes no notion of any plans to get up. The only way his mentor knows he’s still alive is by his vitals FRIDAY is whispering to him and the boy’s back rising and falling to the tune of his breathing.

“Kid, you’re really about to make me fucking do this,” Tony says with a sigh, grabbing the teen’s mask and putting if over his head to hide his identity, “FRIDAY, alert medbay, tell ‘em we’re on our way.”

“Roger that, boss.”

The mechanic slips his nameplate back over his face as he picks up his kid, positioning him like a toddler and sitting him on his arm, cupping the boy’s head to keep it close to his neck, “Might need two beds if I get a fucking panic attack over this,” he mumbles.

“Roger that, boss,” FRIDAY responds, not noticing the sarcasm.

“I didn’t mean - whatever,” Tony turns on his repulsors so he’s now hovering over the floor and with one leg at a time, he oh so gently flies out the window, not even bothering to close it as his suit takes off at full speed, determined to get this kid some help before…

He refuses to think about the rest of that sentence.

The entire flight back to the tower, Tony keeps a tight grip on his kid, damn near smushing Peter’s head against his neck. The man says occasional words of reassurance even though he knows no one is listening, “You’re gonna be okay, kiddo, you understand me? You have to be okay so I can whoop your ass later.”

Honestly, he’s not sure if he's saying this more to the kid or to himself.

He has superpowers, of course everything’s gonna be okay.

Because I said so, damn it.

Peter comes to, finding himself in a hospital gown on an equally uncomfortable bed, a bunch of wires attached to his left hand and a remote on the table to his right, assuming to adjust the bed and TV.

“What?” He mutters, taking in his surroundings. The room is a standard size with a marker board stating the healthcare professionals’ names, a portable cart containing whatever necessities the patient and doctor might need, along with an attached bathroom and window with a view of New York City.

What the fuck am I doing here?

He shifts on his bed in an effort to sit up but he accidentally hits something with his right leg.

The spider-boy tilts his head in confusion only to gasp at the sight of his father figure sitting in a chair next to him, fast asleep with his head on his kid’s bed, resting it on his crossed arms.

Peter can’t help but smile at the sight of Iron Man snoring but that doesn’t answer his question. He looks back down at the wires on his hand and follows them up to an IV bag with the label “glucose.”

Wait, glucose?

Everything hits the hero like a sack of potatoes as his mind takes him back to the last thing he remembers: the hunger, the little boy, Karen constantly telling him about his levels…

Deciding to take a nap.

And he wakes up here.

“Shit…shit, shit, shit, shit.”

The teenager jumps as he hears random beeps on some machine to his right. He feels his heart racing with panic and his legs start restlessly jerking from underneath his thin blankets, thus accidentally waking up his mentor.

Tony’s head snaps up when he feels his arms being nudged for about the fifth damn time. After blinking out of his stupor, he puts his focus on his frightened kid, “Peter, hey, hey,” he grabs hold of the tyke’s right hand and gives it a heartfelt squeeze, “Kid, it’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe now -” he cuts himself off at noticing his words aren’t doing shit and his other hand goes the young genius’s shoulder, “Peter.”

The child stops abruptly, looking right at his hero. Said man gives him a reassuring smile and comfortingly rubs his shoulder to calm him, “You’re okay, buddy, take a breather.”

“Wha-what happened?” Peter asks between deep breaths, doing as his father figure says and trying to settle down, “Is May okay -”

“She’s fine,” Tony confirms, releasing his protege’s shoulder. He can feel the kid’s iron-grip in his hand and makes no move to let go, “She was here earlier but I made her go home for a bit and rest up. I’d rather there’d be one adult with a sore back than two.”

“Wait, how long was I out?”

“Well, considering it’s now,” the billionaire takes a brief look at his watch, “One PM, about fifteen hours, give or take. You had one hell of a nap, if I do say so myself.”

“That sounds like an amazing nap, I wish I savored it,” the teen replies, “But what happened?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Tony responds, face looking upset, “Why don’t you tell me why your levels were so low that I had to come get you in my damn suit and bring you back here?”

Peter sighs in frustration, “Glucose levels -”

“That’s right. When’s the last time you ate?”

“Um,” the spiderling starts, trying to be as vague as possible, “Dinner.”

Tony raises a confused eyebrow, “How much did you eat at dinner?”

“The normal amount,” Peter answers with a shrug.

Please don’t see through my bullshit.

“And you didn’t eat anything later on? You always have to eat something before bed.”

“I, uh,” the boy lets go of their grip, feeling his hand start to tremble uncontrollably. He brings it to his lap and puts it with his other hand under the covers, “Forgot.”

“You forgot to eat,” Tony says, face the epitome of unamused, “How do you forget to eat, your stomach practically screams at ya.”

“I just-I just did, okay, I’m sorry -”

“Oh really, you’re sorry? This ‘forgetfulness’ put you in the damn hospital, ‘sorry’ isn’t gonna cut it. I want you to tell me right now what the hell happened. Why did you let it get this bad?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Peter retorts, getting pissed at the man’s tone, “I didn’t want to end up like this, I thought I had it handled -”

“What handled, Peter?” At hearing no answer, the billionaire continues, “I already know about you Spider-Manning when you’re not supposed to -”

“It was one time! I couldn’t just let a kid get kidnapped cuz Spider-Man got grounded.”

Tony’s eyes soften at that, “Was that what happened last night?”

“Yeah, I heard it right outside the apartment building.” The teen’s voice lowers, “I was studying and I was about to get something to eat when I heard the kid scream, I-I couldn’t just let that happen. I was just gonna save the kid and come right back, I didn’t know it got that bad.”

“How hungry were you?”

“What?”

“How hungry were you?” The mechanic asks, repeating the question, “‘Cuz if you were just hungry, your levels wouldn’t’ve gotten that low. Kid, you were way past starving.”

The kid looks down in shame, feeling his cheeks heat up and he can only imagine how red they must look.

Tony then asks, trying to keep his tone as gentle as he can, “What is it that you’re so afraid to tell me, Peter?”

Peter looks up at him with sad eyes, biting his lip.

Fuck, he’s seeing through my bullshit.

Seeing no chance at a loophole, he knows he has to bite the bullet…but how does he go about telling billionaire Tony Stark that he’s not eating because his aunt can’t afford more food?

Said man asks, keeping his same tone, “Why are you not eating?”

“I am eating -”

“But clearly not enough, why? When you’re with me, you eat ‘til the cows come home - oh shit,” Tony cuts himself off, covering his mouth as his eyes widen in fear.

Peter’s eyes narrow in utmost confusion, “What, what is it?”

“You’re not eating as much as you should,” the older genius mumbles, trying to piece all this together, “And you pig out when you’re here.” He turns to his kid, sporting a scared expression, “Do you throw it all up later?”

That makes the other’s skin prickle into goosebumps, his own eyes bugging out, “What?!”

“It all makes sense now,” Tony states, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms in concentration, “You eat like a horse when you’re with me, but I just brought you here because you’re not eating enough at your place. You already threw it up when you saved that kid, didn’t you -”

“Oh my God!” Peter shouts, the insinuation sinking in, “You think I have an eating disorder?”

“What the hell else is it, Peter? No wonder you were scared to tell me -”

“No, Mr. Stark, it’s not that, I promise it’s not that.” The kid swallows a lump in his throat as he briefly purses his lips, finally giving in, “You don’t understand.”

“Try me -”

“I’m serious, you won’t.” Peter props his elbows on his knees above the covers, putting his head in his hands, “And I don’t expect you to understand.”

Tony leans forward, crossing his arms next to Peter’s outer thigh, his face unreadable, “Then make me understand,” he says slowly.

After a long deep sigh, the boy finally spits it out, head still in his hands, “I don’t get enough to eat.”

“What?”

Peter lifts his head up, resting his hands in his lap, “I don’t get enough to eat. At home, I mean.”

“May doesn’t feed you enough -”

“No, she does, it’s not May’s fault. She feeds me enough food…for if I didn’t have powers.”

It takes a few seconds but the hypothetical lightbulb goes off over the man’s head, “May doesn’t know you have to eat more.”

The spider-boy silently nods his head.

Tony asks, “Why didn’t you tell her?”

The tyke’s shoulders slump with dread. The guy who can buy fucking Google is about to hear his stupid working-class money troubles.

He then says, eyes looking everywhere but at his mentor, “‘Cuz she can’t afford it.”

“Wait, what?”

“She can’t afford it. I don’t know how she manages to buy enough for if I was just a normal human being, with all the bills and her loans and everything. She can’t buy more food for me, Mr. Stark. I’d love to get a job and help her out but I’m only fifteen -”

“Stop, stop right there,” Tony cuts him off, looking even more confused than he was earlier, “That’s what this is about? You don’t want her to buy more food?”

Peter looks up at the older man, looking offended, “It’s not that, I’d love for her to buy more food but she can’t. I’ve seen the bills when she thinks I’m not looking, or her student loans she’s behind on. God, if it wasn’t for my scholarship I wouldn’t even be going to Midtown ‘cuz we can’t afford it.” His voice lowers as humiliation sets in, “Which is why I have to get my history grade up.” His eyes grow to the size of his head, “Oh my God, my test is today -”

“Don’t worry about it, I called the school this morning, you can make it up next week.”

“Next week? But it’s Thursday -”

“Yeah, you’re gonna need more than one day to recuperate after all of this,” Tony says, slightly annoyed, “Why didn’t you tell me you guys are having money issues, I can help you out -”

Peter cuts him off with a humorless laugh, “You really think that’s gonna solve everything?”

“If it means to get you to eat more, it absolutely will,” the billionaire responds, raising his voice in offense.

“I knew you wouldn’t get it -”

“Then make me get it, for God’s sakes, you need money and I can give it to you -”

“We’re not a charity case, don’t you understand?” The child exclaims, “We’re doing fine, we don’t need help -”

“Doesn’t look like it from where I’m standing -”

“But we are!” Peter sighs deeply in frustration, “You’re not the first person to offer us money, okay? You don’t know how it feels.”

“How what feels?”

“For someone to try and help you out by giving you money. It sounds great on paper but you’ve never had someone give you this-this ‘look’ of pity that makes you feel this big,” Peter shapes his thumb and index finger into the shape of a “C”, with both fingertips almost touching, “All because you’re not making that much money. I just, I don’t wanna put Aunt May through that again. She’s proud of what she does, she loves what she does, she loves helping people. I don’t want anyone belittling her again.”

That makes Tony pause.

While yes, no shit he knows the vast majority of people don’t have his kind of money but most of the people in his life over the years only hung out with him because of his money. He’s never thought about the opposite end of that coin, how someone is proud of making a living, especially being in a profession that they love.

And that as long as they can provide for them and their family, they don’t need to be a billionaire to be happy.

“You really love May, don’t you?” Tony finally asks, a proud smile spreading across his face.

“More than anything,” his protege says with a nod of his head, “So please don’t tell her -”

“You know I can’t do that -”

“Please -”

“No, Pete, while your intentions are good, I can’t let you keep starving yourself like this. Who knows what would’ve happened if you weren’t in your suit, if I didn’t get that notification from Karen.” The older hero grabs hold of his mentee’s hand again, “Hey look at me.”

Peter reluctantly looks up at his father figure, his shame slowly but surely ebbing away.

Tony gently his thumb over the tyke’s knuckles, giving him a reassuring smile, “You deserve to eat. We’re gonna tell May and we’re gonna figure this out, okay?”

An unexpected third voice erupts from the doorway, “Tell May what?”

Both heroes’ heads snap to the front to see the woman herself walk in, closing the door behind her. She immediately rushes to the other side of her kid, giving him a hug, “How you doing, sweetie, you gave us quite a scare there.”

Peter hugs her back letting go of Tony’s hand, “I’m better now, thanks to Mr. Stark.”

“It’s nothing, bud,” the mechanic says, comfortingly rubbing the tyke’s knee, “I’m just glad I can help.”

“I can’t thank you enough, Tony,” May says when they separate, sitting down in her own chair opposite the older man, “I know I said that like a million times, but really, I owe you one -”

“You don’t owe me a thing, not where the kid is concerned.” Tony turns to his intern, “But you actually came at the perfect time ‘cuz Pete here has something he’s gotta tell you.”

“Oh?” May turns to her nephew, grabbing hold of his left hand, being mindful of the wires connected to him, “Is it about what happened, I’ve been dying to know.”

“Yeah,” Peter replies, defeatedly, “I’m sorry I went out as Spider-Man but I had a good reason.”

“We’ll talk about that later, I’m just glad you’re okay. What happened, sweetie, you’ve been eating just like you always have, what was the problem?”

“That’s the thing, May,” the boy starts, scratching the back of his neck, “There’s something I didn’t tell you about me after I got my powers.” He doesn’t wait for her response, “I have to eat more than I used to to keep up with them. I have I guess what you call an ‘enhanced metabolism’, meaning I have to eat more than everyone else.”

The nurse’s eyes squint in confusion before her eyebrows raise as everything sets in, “Oh my God,” she says, leaning back in her chair and hand covering her face, not unlike what Tony did earlier, “So all this time you were starving yourself?”

“Well -”

“Why, Peter?! Why the hell would you do that?”

“‘Cuz I know you wouldn’t be able to afford it, okay?” Peter cries, “I didn’t want you to struggle any more than you already do -”

“Stop,” May cuts him off with another hug, her eyes glistening with unshed tears behind her glasses, “Stop, baby, stop.” She lets go and looks right in his eyes, “Don’t ever pull that shit with me again, you understand?”

Peter nods his head, letting a small grin escape him at hearing a muffled snicker from Tony, “I promise. Um,” he takes a deep breath as his aunt settles back into her chair, “It’s also why my history grade is as bad as it is.”

“What?” Both adults ask at the same time.

“Uh,” the teen starts, fidgeting with his top blanket, “So the free lunch I get at school doesn’t fill me up obviously and Ned sometimes brings extra food and that helps…for a while.”

“I know where this is going,” he hears Tony mumble.

“Yeah, and history is my last class of the day so by the time that comes around, I’m really, really hungry so I have a hard time concentrating. In my defense though, it’s boring as shit.”

Both adults can’t help but giggle, “Yeah, history wasn’t my strong suit either,” Tony says, coming to his kid’s defense.

“Peter, this is why you need to tell me things,” May says, “You still understand why I punished you, though -”

“Yeah, even though I hated it. Is Spider-Man ungrounded now?”

“You get rested up and eat for once and we’ll talk.”

“Deal,” the kid confirms with a grunt.

As if on cue, his stomach releases an ever so slight gurgle. As much as the IV bag has helped, he needs actual food sustenance.

Tony says, pressing the button to call a nurse, “And on that note, let’s get you patched up and we’ll order in, how ‘bout that?”

May cuts in, “And you can have allll the orange chicken your tummy desires.”

Peter gives them both a timid smile, wincing as another growl rolls in his abdomen, “That sounds amazing.”

“Mr. Stark, I’m a failure.”

“Kid, you know you’re not, it’s just a few dates and inventions.”

“You make the Industrial Revolution sound like it’s the easiest thing in the world.”

It is now the following week, the day before Peter’s makeup history test, and the father-son duo are in the lab after school. Instead of actually working on anything, Tony is helping his kid study.

If only he can get Peter to put the material in that hard head of his.

“You get into that mindset, and it will be the easiest thing in the world, bud.”

“Easy for you to say,” Peter whines, “Your scholarship’s not riding on this.”

Aw, how cute that he thinks I won’t help him out.

“Forget about the scholarship, you’re already stressed as it is. Focus on the triple cheeseburger you’re gonna get after this thing is finally over.”

“The two triple cheeseburgers,” the kid shyly elaborates.

Ever since the tyke dropped that bombshell about him freaking starving himself, things have changed. For one, May - refusing Tony’s help - is buying more groceries and always makes sure her kid gets a lunch in addition to the free one that’s available. Whenever Peter stays with his father figure, things stay the same except now when Tony makes dinner, he purposely makes more for leftovers.

And now, the man is about to present his kid with another way to help him out.

“Pete, I think your brain might actually explode, let’s take a break for a sec, huh?”

After releasing a long, dramatic sigh, Peter drops his pencil, “Y’know what? Fuck history.”

Tony can’t help but bust out laughing, “Kid, you know why you have to learn it, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but it’s not like I’m gonna be a historian or anything.” The teen gets up and walks over to where his father figure is standing, “Whatcha wanna work on?”

“Actually, I want you to do this for me first.” The billionaire takes a folded piece of paper out of his jeans pocket and unravels it, holding it out to his protege, “I want you to sign right here, and initial here.” He points to the designated areas where a signature is required as the teen takes the document, reading what it says in confusion before his eyes widen in shock.

“You’re…you wanna make my internship a paid internship?” Peter asks, not believing what he’s seeing, “And May already signed it?”

“Yup, you’re not eighteen so I needed May’s approval. So,” Tony casually leans against the table, holding out a pen for the kid, “What d’ya say?”

“I-I,” the teen stutters, his gaze not leaving the sheet of paper, “But like it’s not actually an internship, that’s just a front -”

“Really? You think all the stuff you do around here is just a front?” The older genius asks with a cheeky smile, “Making up web fluid and all the repairs you help me do, I should’ve done this a long time ago if I’m being honest.”

Peter looks long and hard at the writing in front of him, occasionally glancing back and forth at both that and the man who put it together.

He’s not stupid, the kid knows why his mentor is bringing this to his attention.

And he’s grateful.

Tony could’ve tried offering money again, making him feel like a loser even though he didn’t mean it in that way.

But no, Iron Man is offering him a job, a job where he can continue doing what he loves while he helps out his aunt in the process.

He can feel accomplished…proud even.

A smile breaks out across the teen’s face as he takes everything in, thinking about what he can do with the money he’s going to make in addition to helping May: saving up for college, a car, and ooh that Nintendo Switch he’s been dying to have -”

His thoughts are interrupted by Tony clearing his throat, snapping him back to reality, “My arm’s getting tired here, kiddo, you in or not?” The man asks.

Peter takes the pen and lays the sheet on the table, signing on the dotted lines before giving it back to him, “Um, th-thank you, thank you, Mr. Stark, you’re amazing.” He concludes with giving him a hug, wrapping his arms around his hero’s torso thus making the older man gasp in surprise.

“Well, I already knew that,” Tony says jokingly, giving the tyke a light ruffle of his hair, “But it sounds so much better when you say it. You’re the amazing one, don’t doubt that.”

“Tell that to my history book.”

“Speaking of,” the mechanic starts with a snicker, “The Second Industrial Revolution -”

Peter cuts him off with a groan, defeatedly resting his head on the other’s chest, “You said I could take a break -”

“Yeah, for a sec.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“But you ‘needa’, c’mon, back to studying.” Tony lifts his mentee’s head and lightly pushes him back to the direction of his textbook, “So, who invented the telephone?”

“Uh, ‘Mr. Telephone’? He probably used his last name when he invented it.”

Tony lets out about the deepest sigh he’s ever expressed, “So this is how my hair goes gray.”

The following week, it is an ordinary day at the Parkers’ residence. May is preparing dinner while her nephew - who is still feeling satisfied from his after-school snack - is at the counter working on homework, trying not to stare so much at his history test that his aunt stuck to the refrigerator with a magnet.

But damn, he’ll never get tired of seeing that shiny red “B-plus.”

There is a sudden knock at the door, making both Parkers tense up since they’re not expecting anybody.

May opens the door with her kid standing off to the side. On the other side stands a middle-aged man holding a clipboard with about half a dozen bags on the ground around him.

Are Peter’s eyes mistaken or do those bags look like the reusable ones grocery stores sell?

“Ms. Parker?” The man asks, voice neutral but friendly.

“Uh, yes?” May reluctantly responds, looking the epitome of confused.

“I got your groceries here for ya.”

“What, um I didn’t order anything, Peter, did you?” The nurse turns to her kid who responds with a simple shake of his head, his expression matching his aunt’s.

The man’s eyes squint at the small clipboard he’s holding, “Isn’t this your address, ma’am?” He holds the clipboard out to the older Parker and she studies the sheet for a couple of seconds, eyes looking more and more baffled.

“Uh…yeah, yeah that’s us but-but I don’t understand -”

“No need to explain, I’m just the messenger. If you would just sign right here, saying you received your items -”

“Sir, with all due respect, I’m not paying for something I didn’t order.”

“Don’t worry about it, that’s all taken care of. All I need from you is your signature.”

“Uh,” May stutters, shoulders slumping in defeat, “Okay, sure.” She signs the paper and gives it back to him.

“Do you need assistance with the groceries today?”

“No, we got it from here, uh, thank you, thank you very much.”

“Alright, have a good day,” the delivery man then leaves them be. They pick up the grocery bags and bring them inside, quickly going through them as if it’s Christmas.

They gawk at the food items in front of them: steak, salmon, lobster, there’s even veal and duck amongst a pile of vegetables, some of which they’ve never even seen before.

“Where did all of this come from?” Peter asks, amazed at all that “Santa Claus” has graced them with.

“Wait, there’s a note.” May reaches the bottom of one of the bags and pulls out a mini note card that could mimic one that goes in a flower arrangement. She then reads aloud the brief message.

This is what you get for refusing help. Expect groceries every Monday and Thursday for the next, well, ever.

Signed, “You Know Who I Am” -

“Mr. Stark,” Peter finishes with a disbelieving grin, “Of course he did this.”

May can’t help but laugh, not believing this herself as she gets out her phone, “I’m giving this man a piece of my mind.”

Her nephew giggles in response, already getting out his own phone and sending his father figure a text.

Thanks for the groceries but you reeeeeally didn’t have to do that

Tony responds not even a minute later.

I know 😉

Now for God’s sakes EAT!!

253 notes · View notes

cartoony · 3 years

Photo

The Daisy Project | DuckTales (2017) - Koboli (aka cas, hehe) GEN | Words: 2140 AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28005909

Daisy Duck has accomplished her goal of being featured on Emma Glamour's 'The IT List'. Opportunities Daisy has only ever dreamed of have become open to her. Here is one such day.

---------

It is with great devastation that Daisy Duck pries her eyes open as the alarm in the far corner of her room blares louder than a foghorn. She stares at the device with disdain. Eyes opening wider with anger each time the alarm reaches its peak. Daisy wants nothing more than to reach out and slap the snooze button. The exact reason why the device was on the far side of her room, because her doing so has lead to her fair share of trouble.

If she keeps trying to destroy the clock with nothing but her mind, she will reunite with said trouble.

A muddled thought hits the Duck, like it draws itself out of deep and murky waters…. And it's hard to believe. Daisy actually wants to be awake. She’s looking forward to something, isn’t she? The epiphany gives her a burst of energy, and she swings herself out of bed and slams the off button on her clock. She stumbles slightly on her way; even with something to look forward to, she has never been a morning person.

Splashing water on her face, now in the bathroom, she pulls herself together. She grips the sides of her porcelain sink and stares intensely into the mirror. Her hair is sticking in all sorts of directions, signs of her restlessness even during sleep. There are bags under her eyes, visible under the coating of light feathers, leaving purple bruises. She forces a smile, relaxing her grip on the sink, reminding herself to love what she sees.

A beautiful woman with dreams, who's a little weird, but reigns herself in among her peers. With aspirations she’s been told she’ll never reach, but refuses to give up despite that. A woman who above all knows that she is capable.

It’s hard not to smile when she sees all that.

She follows through with her routine; eating, dressing, calling some friends of hers from college, while she does her makeup. It usually lines up that Daisy and her bestie Minnie are applying their looks at the same time. Daisy has always flirted with Minnie without meaning to, and actually it led to them dating for a good while before opportunities took them in separate directions, but Daisy’s connection and care for her never faded. Neither had Minnie’s for her.

Also on the call is Clarabelle, a Senior at their college when Daisy and Minnie were freshmen who took them under her wing. Her sense of fashion is part of what inspired Daisy to pursue designing. This burning urge to create something that would compliment Clarabelle’s incredible figure and style sense.

“Good luck tonight.” Clarabelle says, her voice deep and smile clear.

“Oh my gosh, yes!” Minnie cheers, “good luck, girly! You got this!”

Giving herself one last look over in the mirror, she is satisfied with the complimenting tones above her eyes and light blush on her cheeks. “Oh, I know I do.” She says with confidence, but appreciation is unmistakable in her tone. She doesn’t know what she’d do without her best friends. “Thanks, gals!”

An hour later and Daisy is out to lunch. Seated at a table with gorgeous people, with fantastic clothes. They’re at one of the finer restaurants in Duckburg, Daisy has had the opportunity to dine there a few times before, but always as a planner. Any memory she may have about how the food tastes is marred by her dedication to taking notes on her clients - all hyperfocus on their likes and dislikes, ensuring as few mistakes and faux-paus as possible.

Employee today, she is not. Daisy Duck is here as a contributor.

And contributors get to enjoy their food, and feel like she belongs at the table, Daisy firmly reminds herself. The show wasn’t super large, but it was important enough to be televised. However, the recording was decided at last-minute and the rehearsals had been somewhat brutal. Constant deadlines to meet, long hours, but not a lot of time to form a camaraderie with her fellow designers.

She tries to ignore the slight swoop in her gut. Taking in all the beautiful people sitting at her table, people she’s tried to speak with in passing and had gotten the cold shoulder. Something she is used to from her peers, assuming they find her strange and not worth their time. It makes Daisy want to prove herself, but... She’s seen all their designs, and they’ve seen hers, there isn’t anything left to show off… Except…

She places her napkin on her lap, delicately smoothing out her dress.

This is her first time wearing this out. There’s a nagging whisper of self-doubt Daisy tries to convince herself to ignore. But even since she was a child, the hyperfast racing of her mind is hard to redirect. She feels so confident in this design, at least she did... This feels silly to her, but she’s unconsciously comparing herself to everyone around her, rather than enjoying their designs without bias.

The brown-grey of the dining room cause a warm light to flow throughout the restaurant, it feels a little cloying to Daisy. Conversation is buzzing from every direction, but she can’t follow a word of any of it. Her attempts to join in conversation get little attention. She considers grabbing her smartphone to occupy herself, but finds that a bit rude considering the event. The predetermined meal gets served and Daisy hadn't realized how much time had passed since sitting down, the ice in her water is more than half melted.

Nerves are getting the best of her, and that in itself sends a prickle of embarrassment down Daisy’s neck. She’s really hoping that embarrassment isn’t clear on her face, but it very much is. She gracefully shovels some food into her beak.

“I love your dress.” A flamingo sitting beside Daisy says, and their smile remains patient as the duck takes a moment to realize they’re talking to her. Of course she just took a huge bite.

Funnily enough, at his words, the doubt that she felt was cavernous and never-ending disappeared. Like a hole was filled in, and possibly never was even there in the first place. She gulps her rather large bite of food. “Thanks,” She says, sitting straighter to better show off the craftsmanship. A dark grey structured pencil piece that’s complemented with white and yellow sheer and lace. “I made it myself,” She adds.

Only a moment later Daisy continues, “Your suit is fantastically sewn, I assume you made it yourself too?” She has a kindhearted smirk on her face. This designer in particular… She loves their work, them acknowledging her drove the nerves from being a rookie in the business down. Quieting her racing mind.

The Flamingo laughs in response. “Right you are, and I appreciate that eye you have there.” Much like Daisy, they show off some more of their suit jacket. A hyper dark black, must be some sort of velvet because it’s not reflecting any light. The thread used is a pink matching the exact tone of their feathers, sticking out in a way that keeps it subtle. “But I’m not surprised,” they continue, “your eye would have to be great to make it onto Emma Glamour’s IT-list.”

Daisy can’t help but smile wider at the memory. The very moment her career in fashion had become viable. The catalyst that led the woman to where she is right now. Having lunch with other designers as they all eagerly await the evening event.

The runway show where, for the first time, actual models are going to display Daisy Duck’s Designs.

“Oh, you saw that,” Daisy says around a laugh, barely stopping herself from preening, flipping a wrist lackadaisically instead. “I was actually her assistant for awhile,” She continues, oversharing a bit. “With all the amazing trends I would see her add to the list, I kept feeling like I never had a chance. Was even told so, a couple times, when I got a chance to talk with people who made ‘IT’.” She laughs and waves it off, able to find amusement in the flamingo’s muttered “Owch.”

“Anyway, clearly I did have a chance, and it was only after I beat up the jerks who tried to ruin my party!” She says, and then corrects herself. “Her party!”

The flamingo looks like they were going to ask a question, but the glass of the runway show’s director rings out as she hits it with a spoon. Conversations peter out and soon everyone is looking at the very trendy tiger. She starts giving a speech, but Daisy finds herself reviewing her interaction with her table neighbor. To judge if she had been awkward. She finds she probably had been.

She also finds she should be listening to Mrs. Rayures instead of letting her thoughts get ahead of the moment. “.. And with that! Everybody, enjoy your food. We look forward to seeing what each of your modern, forward thinking minds have to show us tonight.”

Daisy tries not to feel too bad about missing most of what the director had said, focus was something she has struggled with for most of her life at this point. A reason why she took furious notes as a planner, and intern. She’ll be able to prove how all in she is at the show tonight.

Visions of the night float through her mind, excitement stirs in her belly and flutters up to her chest. She can’t deny she’s nervous, but more so she is ready to show this opportunity that nothing can stop Daisy Duck!

… Nothing except the chaos in her workshop.

Before she knows it, two hours have passed, and she can feel the passage of time weighing heavily on her mind. This workspace chaos that she claims is organized, and usually she can understand it’s complexity! She swears by it.

There's just something about knowing a big event is a few hours a way that messes with her ability to find things.

Rather than fussing herself into a tizzy, she breathes in deep, eyes clenched shut, and counts to ten. Opens her eyes, gets frustrated with herself, and repeats the process.

Then once more.

She finds equilibrium. The layout makes sense, the slowness of her breathing pushes anxiety about time to a place she can’t remember it. She gathers everything necessary and piles it carefully by the door. Taking the next moment to fix up her makeup, something fitting for the occasion. The sequin gown she slides into is something she is incredibly proud of. A tribute to her marble-toned IT-list dress, but with the addition of a soft pink and yellow to the teal. Mostly it was black, rather than navy, conscious of not being too loud when adding the other colors.

The dress is also a bit longer, but she’s able to wear the same shoes. Daisy changes bows a couple times, indecisive. For a moment she considers digging up some stockings. It’s all too easy to get lost in final touch-ups to her own look.

Luckily, the anxiety about time she had hidden away flies back at full force and she hurries back into action. But she has planned for this, as everything is still by the door. She grabs the suitcase with each of the designs she’s showcasing tonight, and a few backups to be safe. And the other bag with extra fabric, her mobile sewing kit, her hair styling kit, her sentimental photo of her nieces in outfits she designed for their dance competition. Lastly her purse and car keys. Daisy goes over everything twice for good measure.

Finding no time left to waste, Daisy’s engine revs and she drives off the parking lot of her rented workshop.

So focused on the event to come, the drive feels phenomenally short. She finds a parking space, but doesn’t move after claiming it. Simply sitting in the front seat of her convertible, her hands clutching her steering wheel that would whiten her knuckles if they weren’t already. Suddenly Daisy squeals, nearly shouting, in an attempt to free the pressure of excitement in her chest. Nerves are there, but they have no chance of comparing to the rush of excitement overtaking her entire being.

After regulating her breathing, Daisy checks her makeup in the rearview mirror. Finding everything in order, she takes one more moment to really look at herself. She reminds herself to love what she sees.

But she doesn’t need the reminder.

Daisy Duck is a beautiful woman whose dreams are coming true, who’s a little weird, but loves herself all the more for it. With aspirations within her reach, and will put any amount of work to achieve them. A woman who, above all, knows that she is capable.

It’s easy to smile when she sees all that.

----------

thanks so much for reading!! daisy duck love for life

#Daisy Duck #DuckTales (2017)#ducktales #my art tag #check out my fanned fiction #daisy duck adhd lifestyle

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hinac0lada · 4 years

Text

make it with you

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: kageyama tobio/reader 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: another song inspired fic. ben&ben rly out here doing the best. hearts out for best boy hehe. this is another attempt at fluff so,, feedback would be nice. <3 [ graphic by me not exactly proud of it hnnng ]

kageyama treasures every moment he has with you. he thinks every second, minute and hour counts. time wasn’t very forgiving, after all. he likes that you can see pass through him and accept him. in spite of the rough exterior you’ve come across before forming a friendship with the hotheaded setter, you personally think that being close to karasuno’s genius player was a notable achievement in itself.

kageyama has become somewhat comfortable around you. he tends to sputter his words, which was unlike the milk lover boy. he’s less awkward and more open with his thoughts around you. he likes how you keep him company - something he wouldn’t dare admit out loud; for he suspects his team mates would never let him live it down, especially a certain short carrot-colored haired teen.

even with that said, time wasn’t going to be generous with him if he continues this charade of growing infatuation with his senior.

morning classes were always dull. the raven haired teen doesn’t have the urge to dwell on about the slow ticks of the clock plastered on the wall atop the chalkboard. time goes at a normal pace. a relatively slow one at that. nothing is indefinite. it’s just how things are.

he sticks to a routine he’s developed as days have come by. after classes he changes into his gym uniform, does training in the gym, back to academics and repeat. fair matches come by and go as they prepare for nationals. he’s not nervous (well, maybe a little). he anticipates the day it were to come.

he doesn’t doubt his skills. he doesn’t doubt his team mates will lead them to victory. he doesn’t doubt hinata, either. he knows he’s done his fair share of growth.

it was just enough for him.

everything he’s ever done didn’t come without a barrier blocking him from achieving his goal. his rigid endeavours come with a blend of synergy and control. it tears him to maintain balance between the two attributes. enrolling in karasuno taught him differently than the way he was treated in junior high.

he made friends along the way. friends who saw through his previous arrogant demeanor and desire to surpass the very best.

he’s learned unity.

he appears to have a weird thing for whenever he has spare time or when he does something outside of the volleyball club. during lunch break, he manages to always catch you alone near the vending machines, scribbling away in a little notebook you carry around with you. neither of you acknowledged the other at first, seeing as how he only aims to get a carton of milk to quench his thirst.

the first time you spoke to him was when you required critique from someone for your project. it was due your next class, so you asked the person closest to you, even if you didn’t know who he was.

“excuse me, could i spare some time from you for a moment?” you called out to the ravenette, who glances your way with a confused expression. he gets closer all the while still sipping on the same carton of milk he always buys on the vending machine. “uh, hey?”

“sorry, but could i get your opinion on this? it’s important,” you ask sheepishly, turning your notebook around with a mini-canvas on top. you’ve used your notebook as some kind of surface to draw on for your work. the taller teen gazes upon the canvas painted with vibrant colors mixing with one another in a delicate manner. it was a fine piece, even though he didn’t really get the meaning behind it. the oil paints overlapped each other, creating a rough yet nice texture for the imagery you’ve chosen to depict on the media. “it’s.. good.” he awkwardly stammers.

“huh? is that all you’re going to say?” your lips was pulled into a small frown, dejected at the dry comment he stated. “tell me more! maybe there’s something wrong with it - or maybe yet, something’s missing from this? should i add some other details or─ ”

“h-hey, no need for that!” he interrupts with a small scowl. he didn’t mean to have that kind of expression, but you were fussing over nothing. “it.. it looks great. i think you just need to fix that part over here,” he points to one messy part of the painting. “it looks all bundled up and confusing.” you beam at this, grinning at the puzzled and stiff teen. “aha! thanks so much, milk boy! i owe you for this!” and with that, you scurried off to the main building.

kageyama was left in a trance. what had transpired left him puzzled, a bit flustered and something else he couldn’t fathom.

he did feel a bit irked at the name milk boy.

─────

“no, that’s wrong kageyama-kun. it’s supposed to say ‘enormity’, not ‘ennourmity’.” you scold him lightly as you corrected his mistake on spelling. he isn’t that good at english, so he turned to you for help. he’d rather ask you to assist him than beg tsukishima to tutor him again.

it’s been a couple of weeks since you first interacted. somehow, you’ve gotten close with your underclassman. with the promise of owing the setter for (not much, in his opinion) his helpful incite, you brought some pork buns as a treat. since then, you’ve practically hung out during lunch break. it appears as though you don’t hang out outside of these breaks, but why question a good thing?

“ah, i see. sorry.” was his nonchalant reply. you pout, reaching for his ears and tug them lightly but harsh enough. he makes a surprised noise of protest, narrowing his eyes at you. “oi, what was that for?” he holds up his thumb and index finger to numb the little burning itch on his right ear.

“you always seem so bland! show some emotion will you?” you giggle at his baffled expression. he rolls his eyes at this. “i’m not bland, dumbass. i do show emotions, in case you didn’t know─”

“yeah, you only show emotions whenever you’re angry, bakageyama!” you duck your head as he attempts to swing his arm at you. you stick your tongue out at him, scampering away when he gives chase. it was fun teasing the first year. he seems so tense and so awkward. he needs to loosen up a little.

“HAHAHAH─ okay, okay! i give, i give!!” you squeal as you’ve been backed into a corner, his hand still has that strong grip on your head. you attempt to move his hand - slapping it even, but he wouldn’t budge.”bakageyama-kun, is that any way to treat your senior?”

“for a senior, you sure do act childish,” before lifting his hand, he manages to mess your hair up from its initial neat state, making you groan at him. he returns to where you both sat, picking up his things and stuffing them back into his bag. “ha? where you going kageyama-kun?” you inquire as you brush some array strands of hair back down with your fingers.

“i have practice next. you should get back too, [last name]-senpai,” he hands you your bag, walking past you. “oh. well, ask me again if you need help anytime soon!” he nods in affirmation, waving a goodbye as went on your separate ways. he stops by the vending machine, only to discover there weren’t any milk boxes left. he sighs in dejection, opting to trudge along the steps to the gym to change into his gym clothes.

setting his bag down, he feels something rectangular and hard through his bundle of clothes. taking it out, he discovers it was a milk carton with a sticky note on it.

‘remember to work on your english more, kage-kun! - your smart senpai, [name] :P’

he didn’t know when you’d sneak this inside his bag without him knowing, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

─────

kageyama swings by your usual spot, looking even more tired than usual. he says it was nothing, focusing on completing his needed lesson for the day. you try to tell him you could tutor him another time, but he insists it was not a problem. it’s hard to constantly look out for him when he looks like he’s about to pass out.

“kageyama-kun, i really suggest you should take it easy. i mean, look at you! are you even getting enough sleep? are you eating well?” your concern over him makes his heart flutter, but he couldn’t focus on that when his vision started getting all fuzzy. “it’s nothing i─” he cuts himself off with a yawn, tears slightly forming at the corner of his eyes. he must not realize his own fatigue, yet he doesn’t want to listen.

“i still have practice..”

“no, you don’t.”

you decide to stop the work you previously helped him on, cleaning up your things and packing them inside your respective bags. he watches you silently, fighting the urge to pass out. he’s been pushing himself a little too hard. he practiced with hinata the other night to work on their new quick that he must’ve not known how much time has passed. he usually does this though, so he doesn’t understand why he feels much more tired and sleepy.

he doesn’t know how and he feels too drowsy to question why he ended up in the school clinic with you by his side. he promptly passed out on the bed as you got there. you’d have to stop by the gym to tell them of kageyama’s absence. honestly, this boy can be too much for you sometimes.

despite knowing you have your own club to get to, something in you doesn’t want to leave his side. but you’d get scolded if you skipped out.

you went back to your usual spot near the vending machine, popping in a few coins and purchasing your selected drinks. smiling, you skipped back to the clinic, placing kageyama’s favorite drink on the table on the opposite side of the bed. you pulled out another sticky note, writing a short message and sticking it on the small carton.

sighing, you picked up your things, stopping by the door to give the sleeping male one last glance before heading to your club.

‘don’t go passing out during your matches, okay? - your caring senpai, [name] >:)’

─────

“you know, you’re the first person i ever let watch while i do my work,” you give him a small smile as he pays close attention on your canvas. you both had free time today, so you hung out at a nearby park. he’s bought some snacks along while you brought your art supplies with you. he watches you intently as you recreate the image in front of you; grassy field, trees blending in the background on the left side while the sun was nearing dawn. it was beautiful picture.

“oh.” he says dumbfounded. you don’t give a sign of acknowledgement as you went silent, intent on finishing this piece.

“you’re the first person i can be.. more open to,” he pauses. “i mean, like.. i can tell you anything without being judged for it. and i’m grateful.”

you focus on the painting breaks, glancing at him beside you. you smile at his words. he can be sweet when he wants to be, in his own way at least.

“and i’m honored.” you gaze returns to the canvas.

minutes after you finished, you set it aside to dry. you placed your dirty paint brushes in a plastic, mentally reminding yourself to clean them when you get home before finally focusing on the male in front of you. you made small talk. it didn’t matter which topic it lead to, talking with kageyama was nice. he wasn’t as dull as you thought he was, and he didn’t think you were too annoying.

as you ate your favorite snack, he mutters something underneath his breath, the tips of his ears glowing a light red. “hm? what is it?” you lean closer to him, wanting to know what he was going to say.

“.. i said thanks. for those milk cartons you’ve bought for me the past few days.” he mumbles as he avoids your gaze. he had been wanting to thank you for a while. even though he did so already, he still felt flustered. it appears he’s learned the term of having a crush shortly after spending a hefty amount of time with you.

he's adorable, you think. it was probably rare to see him like this. you chuckle at him, unwrapping your snack to finish the rest of it.

“it’s not a problem at all, kageyama-kun.”

─────

karasuno wins the game by two sets. kageyama glances at the stands above, eyes scanning the crowd for a specific [h.c] haired female. you promised you’d watch his game. and you did. his eyes met yours, navy blue clashing with [e.c] irises. you beam from the stands, waving your arms wildly at their victory.

“great job, kageyama-kun!! i knew you had it in you!” the third years share a knowing look. nishinoya and tanaka pat his back albeit a bit too hard in pride with a few teasing comments. his other fellow first years snicker at his flabbergasted expression that was quickly replaced by his usual scowl.

despite being teased by his team and gaining even more snarky remarks from tsukishima, you coming to watch him play was more than a victory for him.

kageyama, while rummaging through the bag he uses to store spare clothes and his uniforms, feels yet another soft and hard materials from his belongings. he pulls out a small carton of milk along with a plastic filled with his favorite snacks.

‘good luck on your game today! i know you’ll do great! - your loving senpai, [name] <3′

to him, you were more than enough.

#kageyama tobio #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#kageyama x reader #imagine #haikyuu tobio #tobio x reader #kageyama scenarios #kageyama x reader fluff #haikyuuwritersnet

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lettrespromises · 4 years

Text

> LettresPromises informs you : you have one notification.

> Letter object : The recipe for an epiphany of love.

> Akaashi Keiji sent you a letter, would you like to read it?

Letter Object : Upon preparing Bokuto’s birthday cake, Akaashi and you wish to fill your duty ever so perfectly and offer Bokuto the sweetest of birthday cakes. Although, you might have found the recipe for an epiphany of love whilst baking... Want to try this recipe? Genre : Pure fluff. Word count : 2.6K.

Author’s letter : ❝dear reader,

why hello and thank you for taking some of your time to read this. i can’t guarantee you the absolute best quality regarding this letter given the fact that i have written it at 3am and my brain uses odd terminologies when it’s getting late, maybe i’ll fix this letter, maybe i’ll let the reader roam in the unknown because of the bizarre writing of my tired brain, hehe. by the way, i can bake some mean cheesecakes so if any of you want the recipe hit me up (do not follow the recipe of this letter)

sealed with a kiss, nikki.❞

Are you looking for a recipe to make to make two protagonists fall in love? You’re in luck! We just so happen to have the list of ingredients! You will need : two individuals who are oblivious to one another’s feelings, three teaspoon of innocence, one tablespoon of genuine adoration and about two doses of luck (precious ingredient). Now that you have gathered all the ingredients necessary, the first step is to reunite the two individuals in the same room.

« … And after separating the eggs, add sour cream and vanilla; mix well. » you read off the recipe stained by flour, or perhaps was it icing sugar?

You let out a sigh you ignored you were holding until now, and cursed yourself right after doing so, now seeing that there was a chain of small tads of flour everywhere. It was the first step on the list of a recipe for a cheesecake, but it seemed like you couldn’t see the end of it. After all, how tricky was it to include several indications within the same step? You threw a shameful glance at the mix in the bowl which, and although you had been working on it with particular attention and dedication to the recipe, still hadn’t changed much.

« Y/N-san, are you doing alright? Is there something I can do to help you? » You swore to yourself that if you didn’t know Akaashi, you could have sworn that this voice belonged to an angel.

« Don’t worry, Akaashi. I’m just finishing this step, I think I should be fine. » You threw a glance to his side, offering him a discreet grin in the process.

You secretly wished that somewhere alongside the repetitive instructions of the recipe, there was a line which instructed you to spend a few eternal minutes looking at your baking partner, a gleam of genuine adoration reflecting in the corner of your eyes. You could only hope though, as if taking a mental picture of your baking partner of the day would ever so magically make the cake taste sweeter. And it’s not as if you were making a love potion neither, you were making Bokuto’s birthday cake out of all things.

Great! Now that you have completed the first step, let’s move on to the second step : given that your two protagonists are in the same room, and possibly alone, create a series of interactions between them and see their reactions.

Whilst you were taking care of the pastry, Akaashi was busy crushing the biscuits which would later form the foundation of the cheesecake. You work in unison, the same recurring thought of wanting to improve your baking capacities haunting you in the nicest way possible. After all, it was going to be Bokuto’s birthday cake— sure, it was going to be eaten in a blink of an eye, but the purpose laying behind each mouthful was not solely for it to leave a layer of bliss on the tastebuds, but also manage to convey an intense sense of love for the birthday boy. And for that, you were both willing to bake until exhaustion, find the secret ingredient hidden in the abyss which will give this cheesecake imaginary sparkles, bend yourself under the echoing pain in your biceps of having to mix the pastry over and over again until reaching the oh so wanted perfection. This cheesecake was not meant to be suitable for a birthday, it was meant to be flawless— it was meant to carry a portion of yourselves.

« Akaashi, do you mind giving me your opinion on the pastry? I don’t know if I should add a little bit more sugar, or maybe more vanilla…» You inquired, your gaze finding his form almost too naturally which you secretly cursed yourself for.

« Of course, Y/N-san, I have no doubt it’s excellent. » Akaashi said in response, almost too naturally as well which made you raise your eyebrow as a visible sign of confusion.

« But you haven’t even tasted it yet…? » You added, the end of your sentence forming an odd mix between a statement and a question, talk about confusion.

« That’s the point exactly. » He concluded his sentence with a grin sent your way, a grin with your name written all over it.

While according yourself excessive seconds to take a mental picture of his smile until swearing to yourself that you would be able to draw his portrait with your lids shut close, you didn’t even notice that he was standing right next to you. The sole acknowledged fact that your shoulders were merely brushing was enough to make the apples of your cheeks beam with a rosy tone, it was already far too much to your liking.

Akaashi took a wandering spoon, not too far away from the bowl and used it to capture enough pastry to taste it—he brought the spoon to his lips, the latter marrying perfectly the shape of the instrument to savor each bit of dough left on the silver spoon. His tongue clicked a few times against the roof of his mouth, a deed which echoed to a will of reminiscing the flavor of the pastry which had already faded from his tastebuds a bit to soon to his liking. His thoughts on what you had prepared was readable all over his face, his facial traits bent under the pleasing myriad of sensations which had bloomed on his tastebuds.

« Exactly what I thought : it’s excellent. I’m sure it will be even better once it’s baked. » Akaashi concluded while grabbing another spoon and covered it in pastry, « Would you like to taste it as well, Y/N-san? I believe it will help convince yourself. » he followed, bringing the silver instrument in your direction as an inviting gesture to taste your own creation.

« Aah! Thank you so much, Akaashi, I’m so glad you like it so far! I can’t wait to taste the real deal though, but we’re going to have to wait a little bit before getting the chance to eat it. », you offered him a grin to punctuate the end of your sentence, « Sure, sure, I’ll taste the dough. »

Congratulations on finishing the second step! Keep on following our recipe to obtain the perfect result! The next step on our list is a bit tricky to accomplish— now that you have reunited your two protagonists, it is now time to add three teaspoons of innocence!

It was an inviting gesture to say the least, inviting until crossing the limits of invasion. Akaashi’s free hand cupped the bottom of your chin, acting as a form of protection to avoid any adventurous drop of pastry to stain your clothes, the other hand, however, was bound to break the invisible barrier of your lips with the help of the spoon. You steadied his hand by allowing your fingertips to brush over the flesh of his wrist, steadied was a hyperbole— the truth of the matter was that you solely wanted to return the attention given by the faint touches. After gaining enough pseudo stability (what a liar you were), you parted your lips open and were welcomed with a waltz of savors dancing all over the dancing floor that were your tastebuds. You breathed out in response, a deed which echoed to a hum of satisfaction, it was the signal Akaashi waited for to remove the spoon from the embrace of your lips.

And although your mouth was free from any foreign presence, Akaashi still felt the need to let his digits roam a bit longer on the flesh of your chin. He ignored why, nor did he want to know the obscure reasoning of his subconscious, but it felt right. It was a mutual exchange of fainted touches—too shy to be complete, not bold enough to respond to the exigences screamed by the heart. But yet, they were there. And perhaps the fact these touches were ephemeral and delicate was more poetic than if they happened to be decisive and hailing from a state of reflexion— they were fragile, and yet cherished because of their fatality at once.

« Forgive me, Y/N-san, it seems I have lacked a bit of cautiousness with the spoon. » Akaashi whispered, fearful that adopting a tone high enough would shatter the environment of this metaphor of half-felt touches.

Using the hold he had on your chin, Akaashi swept the pad of his thumb on the corner of your lips as if he was brushing his digit against the finest porcelain, where a hint of pastry was residing. His orbs fell on yours and shone by their newly acquired sense of victory. Only then, he broke by himself this balance of secret touches between you and made them fade away. Leaving the portion of skin he had just brushed against burning and already craving his touch.

« You’re all set now, should we put this in the oven now? » Akaashi wondered, hiding behind a façade of fake innocence.

« Yeah, yeah— I think it’s a good idea. » You responded, and oddly enough, you sounded out of breath.

My, my, my! We’re approaching the very last steps! Alright, everyone— the next step on our recipe is to provoke the cause of an oh so unfortunate event by adding two doses of luck, did you sense the sarcasm here? I knew you would!

Your eyes trailed after Akaashi’s movements, perhaps you were scared that the cake would fall flat on the floor before even getting the chance to be cooked? But you had too much faith in his sense of balance, after all, didn’t he find a way to balance your secret touches earlier on? Your haunting thoughts and doubts faded away once the soon-to-be caramelized cheesecake had been put in the oven, now you had nothing to worry ab-…

« A-Ah! I think I burnt myself against the door of the oven, fret not, it’s probably nothing though. I was just surprised, that’s all. » Akaashi half-stated, shared between a hint of worry for this pointer finger and the fear of making you worry for nothing.

Oopsies! Talk about an unfortunate event right there! We’re approaching the very last bits of this recipe with the very last step : add one tablespoon of genuine adoration, make sure to mix all the ingredients very well to obtain an even result!

« You still burnt your finger, and that’s not nothing! At least let me help you, even though you think it’s not that big of a deal : ever heard of magic kisses, ‘Kaashi? » You questioned him, cradling his martyr of an index delicately in the hold of your digits to obtain a better view of the scarlet colored flesh.

« Mhm, I think I must have heard of them, I can’t say I have had the opportunity to try these magic kisses though. » He continued, adopting the same amused tone as you did, to which you replied with a hushed laughter.

You brought his pseudo-wounded finger to your lips, and before offering salvation to his index, you looked at him through your lashes as a silent way to ask him for permission before continuing. Akaashi could only offer a grin at your antics, but he couldn’t gather enough strength and conviction within himself to detach his gaze from your each and every move. With the granted permission, you delivered a saving peck upon the abused flesh of his finger— it was a moment of grace, and he convinced himself that he would never feel pain ever again after having his skin immortalized by your kiss.

And there you have it, folks! After mixing all the ingredients well and respecting all the steps to this recipe you should be left with two protagonists whose hearts now beat for one another! Thank you for following this recipe, and always make sure to let a few minutes pass by before officially considering it done and over with!

For the first time in his life, Akaashi Keiji had an epiphany.

A visionary moment, a sudden realization which changed his perspective on life. He felt hit by an invisible hammer, but the pseudo-pain was enough to make him discover everything he thought he once knew— and that is precisely how he realized that with the sole brush of your lips against his skin, you made him discover a new panorama of life which he had always ignored. He had forgotten about everything but you.

For the first time in his life, Akaashi Keiji fell in love.

He felt like he was falling down in an endless hole and, paradoxically enough, felt like he was drowning at once. It’s been so long since the sea of his heart was silent, when the waves ceased and fell against the shore in a whisper. And for once, he didn’t know where to begin, but soaking in your traits was similar to taking a sip of eternity and the sun, the moon and the stars never tasted so good.

« Y/N-san, may I kiss you? » He whispered, a wish barely audible but vivified by the torment of his newfound emotions.

« Akaashi… Yes, yes you can. » You hushed back, your words crashing softly against his skin.

The hollow of his heart in perpetual quest of adoration was bound to be filled in the most poetic way possible. Everything and anything about you was the muse to the most idealistic poems, and each verse was meant to witness an eternal renaissance.

His hands encompassed your waist, almost in a lion-like gesture too eager to devote all of his attention to his newfound gem. Using the strength in his arms, he placed you on the kitchen counter amongst all the sugar, flour and icing— it was where it all started, like an eternal cycle which had finally found a halt, if you will. His palm cupped the soft flesh of your cheek, and he took a moment to savor the last instants before witnessing the rebirth of his aching heart under a new light.

And then it came— the crash of his plump lips against yours in a marriage of sensations. Your bodies responded silently to one another, both of you had your lids shut and yet there were haunting images of a myriad of shooting stars flashing behind your closed lids. Your fingertips melted with the scalp of his head, inviting him to amplify the kiss to make erupt yet another series of shooting stars. And even with your eyes closed, the imagery was still vivid and each sensation was emphasized which caused a line of thrills to run down your spine. And for a moment, amongst all this quiet chaos, you wondered if this is what the seventh sky seemed like— your frame melting in Akaashi’s, your lips adopting the shape of his like a match made in heaven.

But in the excitement, the course of adrenaline eventually failed you and so did your lungs. You both pulled the way at the same time, your bodies still in communion although your lips were no longer connected, but instead, Akaashi rested his forehead on yours.

« Please enlighten me on one thing, doll : was this a recipe for a cheesecake or a recipe for to make an epiphany of love come true? »

#akaashi x reader #akaashi #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi keiji #haikyuu #hq!!#akaashi fluff #haikyuu x reader #akaashi hcs #akaashi hc #akaashi one shot #haikyuu reader insert

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hchan · 3 years

Note

(pt.1) ahahaha aww! :’> that’s so great to hear and no worries about when you get back to me ahaha we all got lots of other things on our hands i’m sure of! ^^ and AHHH!! a very happy birthday to him! ^^ I hope he and you and your family all had a great time celebrating together! :’) and I absolutely agree! All the joy and love going around is always a pleasure to be around ^^ And aw having a lot of your family owning farms sounds really lovely!

HIIIIIIIIIIII💖

(pt.2) There’s a lot of farms around where I live and seeing them whenever I’m commuting is really like, there’s something about them that makes my heart really warm if that makes sense! :’DAND AHH did I shadow write this bc 👀👀👀 THAT’S A BIG MOOD AHAHA I’m a big introvert myself as well and in a way I’m a bit thankful to have so much time away from things to kind of mentally recharge I suppose? LIKE HAHA don’t get me wrong I absolutely love my friends but I’m also a bit of a homebody as well

(pt.3) and in a way I’m a bit thankful to have so much time away from things to kind of mentally recharge I suppose? LIKE HAHA don’t get me wrong I absolutely love my friends but I’m also a bit of a homebody as well >< and!!!!! I’M AN INFP AND A SCORPIO AS WELL AHHhHhh??? what a coinky dink! I also just did a couple things to find out my life path number and it’s 4! (from what I’ve read about so far I can’t say it’s 100% accurate to myself though! ahaha maybe 50/50 😂I’ll definitely look into

(pt4) it a bit more though!)AHH ME TOO they’re kinda dangerous for me 👀 but I can definitely say that more about stationary stores! 😂😂😂 atm I’m not working on anything specific in particular but I’m an art student and so you can definitely say that craft stores are kind of a second home to me LOL but I was mainly just checking out different kinds of mediums I can add to my paint! ^^ I’m definitely a big window shopper so I didn’t make any purchases this time haha :’D And AHH I feel that!

(pt5) That’s definitely a hard decision! >< I remember being curious about when they were dropping their season’s greetings this year and they had literally dropped them later that day and i was like!!!! 👀 I stayed strong and held off for this year since I was saving up to buy both versions of pt.2 (which pleasantly arrived today woohoo!!) But OOF if they had released an nct 2020 season’s greetings...... consider my bank account empty LMAO And yes I love playing games! Ooh I’d say ac is

(pt6) definitely a favourite since I’ve been playing the series since I was a kid but hMM at the top of my head, I also really like botw, undertale, earthbound, maplestory and osu! ^^ hbu do you like any other games? (and ooh if you ever get ac, feel more than welcome to add me! ^^ I’ll gift you some cute stuff on there hehe ^^) AND OOOOOH HORROR!!! horror’s a lot of fun! do you have any favourite horror movies? I can’t say I’ve watched a whole lot of horror recently (I actually watched Eli

(pt7) around Halloween and it was alright! Definitely worth a watch with the slow unravelling of everything! ^^) but my favourites would probably the two It movies! I’d also definitely recommend anything from A24! I haven’t watched a whole ton of horror from them other than Hereditary but they do have a pretty solid selection and from what I’ve seen from some of their non-horror titles, their film quality is just 👌👌 (I also watch this really great horror movie based youtube channel and they do

(pt8) mainly film summaries/reviews and they’re a lot of fun to watch since they do a lot of lesser known films too ^^) I’ve also been meaning to watch the original Suspiria movie! The cinematography in it is super beautiful 🥺 I’m also a big chill/r&b/lofi fan as well! 🥺 perhaps to go with your gift, I’ll also throw in a playlist of recs for you! ^^ and I’d absolutely love to hear some of your favourites! Ahh absolutely! Cooking for others is always such a sweet gesture :’D also here’s a

(pt9) recipe for you! Unfortunately tumblr won’t let me send links but! if you google betty crocker cake mix crinkle cookies, it should be the first result! It’s my go to recipe for everything whether it’s someone’s birthday, there’s an event going on at school or if I just feel like making something easy and sweet! There’s also only 4 ingredients (plus vanilla if you want but it’s not necessary) and you can use any flavor of cake mix or even add additional chocolate chips/fillings if you want! ^^

(pt10) I’ve tried it with red velvet cake mix and white chocolate as well as with vanilla cake mix and crushed oreos and they always come out super great! ^^ And aw that’s okay! :’))) What song drew you to them? Oof personally I feel like an nct granny LOOOL I remember the day smrookies dropped jeno’s teaser photo and I thought he looked SO YOUNG (jokes on me tho bc I’m only about 6 months older than him HAHAHA) and yeah for sure!!! it’s so wholesome to see! ^-^ AND!!! absolutely xiaojun this era

(pt11) just.. let’s say he reALLY rode up my bias list in the shortest amount of time AHAHA and yesss 90s love was super cute! (my inner Canadian is thriving at the whole hockey concept LOOL) and AHH when everyone else joined in and theY ALL SANG FROM HOME TOGETHER I JUST- a single tear definitely escaped HAHA AND AHH OF COURSE Faded in my last song definitely takes the cake too and I’d say the same with Music, Dance and Deja Vu too!! Honestly their whole album is such a great time ahh :’) AND!!!

(pt12) AW I think you’re super fun too!!!!!! (AND SUPER SWEET??? I’M- I don’t know hOw many times I’ve had to stop myself from accidentally liking a post of yours (your gifs are lovely!) or following you BUT!!! expect a lot of that when I reveal myself LMAO) :’>>>> fjghdkjhfg Talky squad! ^^ And that’s great to hear!!!! My heart stOPPED when I sent each one bc tumblr didn’t give me the mssg that they sent and I FREAKED OUT AHAHAHA and that’s great to hear! and aw that’s really sweet that you guys

(pt13) got to chat! And thank you! My day is going quite okay thanks! a little downside is that my work contacted me this morning and said there were a couple positive cases at one of my job sites when I worked a couple weeks ago so at the moment I’m chilling in my room for the next few days just in case. I’ve been feeling just fine so I’m hoping all will be well soon! On the positive side, my albums arrived today and I pulled a Xiaojun pc and died aHAHA and I’m really loving all the freebies

(pt14) that came with it! Stickers are always a delight to get :’)) (even tho I’m usually too scared to use them! xD) I also got a chance to talk to some kind people at work and that’s always nice! ^^ and aw that’s so great :’000 i’m really happy you guys had a great time and got to eat yummy food!!!!! Here’s also a burning question for you! Do you possibly have a favourite hyuck era? Asking for research purposes ofc hehe 👀👀👀

(pt15) hope your day is going swell so far! p.s. will try my best to keep these a bit shorter bc i can only send 5 asks per hr :’o + also you're an infinite fan aaa!!!!! i used to be a big fan back in the day hehe - ss☃️🎄

Thank you!!! we did have a great time :>

Farms are fun, I just love spending time away from the city sometimes hahaha KJFNDVKJDNK yes, I honestly am ok with being at home for long periods of time (huge homebody here), but it’s been a year already and I just want to go out and sit under the sun for a few minutes HAHAHAH (for a few minutes only bc I usually can’t stand being directly under the sun OTL)

OOOOHHH INFP Scorpio twins eheheh, when’s your birthday??? must have been recently so I’m wishing you a late happy birthday💕 and yes, I need to look a bit more into numerology as well because I have no idea what my number means fdkjndfk.

OMG!!! an art student!!! That’s so cool :< I hope I get to see some of your art after the event! eheheh. What’s your favorite medium? Favorite thing to draw/paint? :)

I was so curious too!!! I loved NCT Dream’s Season’s Greetings concept last year! and I don’t have any NCT merchandise so I just jumped in for it this year kjdfnkdvfk I liked both concepts but I decided to get 127′s! BOTH VERSIONS OF PT.2!!! EXCITING! Whic PCs did you get??? (Also who is (are) your bias(es)??? omg dkfjnfvkjd) !!!!!!! I absolutely love botw too!! and I play osu as well :D but lately I’ve just been playing Genshin Impact and Overwatch! (OMGGG I’ll definitely let you know if I do!!!)

I know Hereditary!!! I haven’t watched it yet! but I have watched The Witch from A24 and it was really interesting! (which youtube channel? o: I love watching movie analysis videos!!) LKFDNKFDMFL and yes, please, I love getting songs recs, discovering new music is so fun! I’ll share here some songs that I’ve been listening to a lot lately!:

Nlve x Sam Kim — Like a Fool

DPR LIVE — Jam & Butterfly

SOLE — haPPiness

eaJ x Seori — It just is

eaJ x keshi — Pillows

Woosung — Face

OMG I just watched a video that showed similar looking cookies!!! they look so yummy! I’ll save this recipe and maybe I’ll try to bake some for Christmas eheheh thank you!!!!

I knew of NCT since their debut but AHAHAHA you see, I felt a bit funny because I’m older than many members JKFNDJK so I avoided them until around Superhuman/Boom when some friends exposed me to their music during a trip we made for a Got7 concert, a week with them was enough for me to go back home straight to search more about NCT, and here I am now : D

AND YESSSS when they all joined to sing From Home on the stage :((( I’m also about to cry each time I watch the MV for the rearranged version KJNVFNKD (omg!! I’ve always wanted to go to Canada! I can imagine the hockey concept was exciting ahahah) but yeah! I absolutely agree, love love LOVE the album!

Awww :< <3 that’s SO relatable LMAO I was just saying to my friends the other day “don’t you sometimes get the urge to like your own anon on you event person’s blog????” AHAHAH thank you for thinking my gifs are lovely;; I just started giffing this year and it’s been really fun so far :D

Oh god :(( I hope you’re okay! that sounds a bit scary;; please take care :< but I’m glad that your albums got there and that you got to talk to nice at work! (stickers are always great!!! yes!! though I tend to save them and never use them as well ahahah)

FAVORITE ERA? god that’s a difficult question KJFNDVKJ well, my favorite Dream song is MFAL but I have no idea if it’s my favorite era...... I also really really really liked Superhuman (his silver hair????? gorgeous) so maybe those two would be the answer kjndfkdk and yes!!! I’ve been an Infinite fan since their debut! and Sunggyu was my bias until Haechan happened hahahah (I’ve been a kpop fan since around 2008 : D hbu???) I think I asked here earlier but who’s your NCT bias/es?? o: are there any other kpop groups that you really like? :)

BIG EDIT: RIDIN’ ERA HAECHAN IS A BIG FAVORITE TOO his hair was at a beautiful length and that eyebrow piercing.............*cries*

Big edit 2: .......ridin’ is the favorite era, I stil like MFAL as a song more, but Ridin’ era haechan is......deadly

#Secret Santa anon🎄#asks

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tonbanereblogs · 4 years

Text

@bardingbeedle tagged me in these 50 questions, WOW. I read theirs while typing out mines and it felt like a conversation, thanks for the entertainment :)

I'm tagging @panna-acida @gay-and-bitter @owmione @veryaveragejoe and @feministcriossant if you guys feel like it :). If not, dw!

WARNING it's long and can't add read more on mobile, sorry

What is the colour of your hairbrush?

I have a wooden one and a plastic grey one :)

Are you typically too warm or too cold?

Too warm but I never notice. It's always someone asking me how can I be in just a t-shirt haha

What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Playing animal crossing while painting (if you play add me pls)

What is your favourite candy bar?

I'm bad at names but I like any bar that has caramel and chocolate.

Have you ever been to a professional sports event?

Yes, both my father and sister have been cyclists!

What is the last thing you said out loud?

Congrats to my dad, who is playing racing games rn.

What is your favourite ice cream?

Coconut ice cream, just had some for dessert!

What was the last thing you had to drink?

My forgotten, cold tea.

Do you like your wallet?

No, it's too thick to carry it in my jean's pockets and I don't like carrying a bag or smth

What was the last thing you ate?

Risotto and coconut ice cream hehe

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

How exactly

The last sporting event you watched?

My cousin's basketball game like ages ago

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn?

I'm.... Disgusted by artificial flavours, I like normal popcorn

Who is the last person you sent a text message to?

Someone in my animal crossing server lmao

Ever go camping?

Once and it wasn't even the full experience. I want to go :(

Do you take vitamins?

Nope

Do you go to church every Sunday?

Every religious relative's communion so like five years ago.

Do you have a tan?

Not atm with being locked up and all that

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

It depends, but I'd choose Chinese because I eat it way less often.

Do you drink your soda with a straw?

I only use my straw when I make strawberry milkshakes :3

What colour socks do you usually wear?

All colours. Right now green with hamburger pattern

Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

I don't even drive :(

What terrifies you?

Watching psychological torture/rape movies. It makes me feel traumatised, like pretending to be normal but shifting, scratching, wanting to throw up... Heh

Look to your left, what do you see?

My grandma's hand sewn drawing (?) Of a cat and puppy cuddling, it says "love will keep us warm"

What chore do you hate?

Making the bed. I move so much at night that it's not even worth it.

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

I think "hm, I don't deserve my C2 English certificate"

What’s your favourite soda?

Lemon flavoured and watered down, because soda has too much sugar for me

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thrus?

I've never used a drive-thru, I think they're not part of my area's culture

Who’s the last person you talked to?

Again? My dad / texted my ac discord

Favourite cut of beef?

I don't know?

Last song you listened to?

KK Bossa from animal crossing (because I'm playing rn) if you mean "real" music, it's *opens Spotify* I don't love you by mcr... What the Fuck when?

Last book you read?

I've been reading about the Cambrian period (first creatures out of the water, my jam)

Favourite day of the week?

In lockdown week days don't exist

Can you say the alphabet backwards?

I can say the notes backwards but it's lame to type it out... I'm gonna anyway

Do re mi fa sol la si do si la sol fa mi re do.

How do you like your coffee?

25% coffee, 25% water and 50% milk, no sugar. Sometimes hot as hell sometimes iced. I'm very serious about the percentages

Favourite pair of shoes?

Some black combat boots that make me 7cm taller and also are ripping apart

The time you normally go to sleep?

Used to be 11 but now it varies, the latest is 2

The time you normally get up?

I used to get up strictly at 7am, but now I'm a bit sad w lockdown and I can't manage to wake up as early

What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?

Lately sunsets come with pretty reds :3

How many blankets on your bed?

One nordic

Describe your kitchen plates

All the same style but two colour variants: black and white.

Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage?

One single sangria per year I'd say

Do you play cards?

Not really. Only if the group forces me

What colour is your car?

My dad's car is black, if it helps. Mine was going to be a seat toledo 2000 but they sold it.

Can you change a tire?

No hehe

Favourite job you’ve ever had?

Illustrating a children's book about taking care of the planet

How did you get your biggest scar?

I fainted in the bathroom, half naked and hit my cheekbone with the bidet? Glorious. At the moment I was in highschool so I told people I fell off my bike

What did you do today that made someone else happy?

Attend a friend's online party. It was v sweet but I was the only guest, that's why I'm guessing I made her happy.

#phew!!!!#tagged meme

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aboysbestfriendishismum · 4 years

Text

Chapter 55 - Wine, puzzles and spoonmen (Part One)

In the previous chapter: Eddie and Angie woke up at her apartment. It's the third time in a row they sleep together but, although Eddie is constantly teasing her, they haven't had sex yet. Angie starts to get worried about this too and believes something's wrong. Eddie, Stone and Mike go to Roxy's on that same morning, right during Angie's shift at the diner. Eddie cheekily jokes, teases her, sends her subliminal love messages through juke box songs, then follows her in the back and kisses her; she thinks he's doing it on purpose so that their friends will find out about their relationship. The two of them have a brief argument but they soon make it up. Meg tells Angie about her new project: becoming a tattoo artist. She also understands Angie's worried about something and has her friend spill the beans. Angie confesses she has doubts about Eddie's physical attraction towards her. Meg tries to talk some sense into her and suggests her to set up a romantic night for Eddie and her at their apartment.

***

“Ian, can you come here a sec?” I call my coworker as I look through the sketchbook my roommate has just slipped on the counter top together with her purchases.

“What's up?” I hear him answer from afar.

“I need your help”

“Can't you do it by yourself? That guy who dropped the jarred Bolognese sauce made a mess!”

“Umph if that's Bolognese sauce, then I'm Julia Roberts!” I comment right when Hannigan comes back from the storage room, probably because of the commotion he heard.

“ANGIE?” he gives me a nasty look and I'd want to sink into the ground.

“Err I meant that it's a sauce produced in our beloved America! Healthy American food, tasty and nutritious... which gets inspiration from an Italian recipe to... to...” I try and make up for that as I address my audience, that is basically Meg, looking at me as if she could burst into laughing any minute, my boss and two perplexed customers, a young man and a fifty-something woman.

“To give a new interpretation of it?” the guy suggests from the snacks department.

“EXACTLY! A new interpretation. Different from the original”

“But as valid as the original” the boss adds.

“Very valid!” I say through my teeth.

“She's half Italian.” Meg explains to the customers “She'll be fucking fussing about everything but the sauce is good” the guy snickers and the lady shakes her head and walks towards the frozen foods.

“I'd have liked for you not to use the F word but you perfectly summed up my thinking” Hannigan's face relaxes and maybe I still have a job.

“Anyway it's all Ian's fault” I point out as soon as I see my colleague show up behind the back of the boss.

“What did I do?”

“I called you and you didn't came”

“Well, now I'm here, what's wrong?”

“Now Hannigan's here, I don't need you anymore”

“Can you please explain what the fuck's happening? I didn't understand a fucking thing!” the boss blurts out in the middle of our quarrel.

“I thought you couldn't say the F word here” Meg chimes in raising her hand as if she was at school.

“Not to custumers, but to employees... yes”

“Meg needs to buy some wine” I point at my roommate and the bottle she's placed on the counter.

“So what? Your shift ends at 13:00, you still have 10 minutes” Ian gives me a glazed look and right now I'd stick my thumbs into his eyes.

“It's not for the timing, it's that I can't sell alcohol...”

“Oh right! Well, you'll take care of that, right?” he asks to our boss.

“Yeah, sure Ian! I'll take care of that, I'm already here! By the way why should I have my paid personnel work when I can do everything by myself, right?”

“Uhm... ok, I'll go and put some more sawdust on that stain” Ian walks away and Meg can't resist this time and explodes laughing.

“Haha he's so dumb! Anyway isn't it funny that you cannot sell me wine, considering you're the one who'll drink it?” my friend remarks while Hannigan's ringing her items: red wine bottle, sliced bread, salmon, cheese, butter, various snacks.

“You're kind of dumb too, you know” I hide my face behind my palms.

“You could avoid telling me, at least...” mutters the boss and shakes his head.

“Who? Telling you what? I didn't say a word! Oops, I forgot the dessert, wait a minute!” Meg realizes the shit she just did and plays dumb, walking away towards the sweets section.

“She was just kidding anyway hehe” I say and I hope he doesn't notice I'm sweating.

“Of course”

“They're great!”

“Thank you Meg for grocery shopping for me and bringing all the bags up for four floors for me... that's what you just said, right?” my friend is putting everything into the fridge as I keep looking through her sketchbook.

“Exactly”

“Anyway you don't have to tell me you like them only to make me happy, I want a honest opinion”

“I am honest! I must say I like the ones in black and white better”

“Right? I'm not confident with colors yet. I mean, it's not like I can't draw stuff in colors. It's just, whenever I draw something and color it and I think it'd be supposed to end on someone's skin, everything seems shit to me. I did very few drawings in color”

“The flowers series is perfect, also the one with the animals” she's really good at drawing, I've always known that.

“They're just doodles to get started, to try some themes and styles”

“They're not doodles... what about this?” I focus on something drawn on a separated sheet of paper, folded and stuck in the middle of the book, which falls down to the floor as I turn the pages.

“Which one?” Meg distractedly turns around then closes the fridge door shut and runs up to me, snatching the paper from my hand as soon as she sees what it is “Oh this? This is nothing, this... I did it last night at the salon, during downtime, it sucks”

It's a page made entirely of pieces of a puzzle, they're all different in shape and shade but don't create any image. They're all blank and fill the whole sheet of paper except for a small space, a missing piece. Instead of the missing piece, in the layer underneath, you can see something that looks like live flesh and muscle tissue, and it's the only colored part of the drawing.

“It's simple but of immediate effect. This could really become a tattoo”

“Do you think so?”

“Yeah, it also seems very realistic. It's disturbing but in a positive sense, I like it!”

“Oh, well, thank you”

“What does it mean?”

“That I thank you for your compliment?”

“Haha no, what does the tattoo mean?”

“Ah”

“There's always a meaning behind, right? What would such a tattoo mean?”

“Well but... but this is not a tattoo is just an excercise, there's no reason behind”

“No?”

“No! Ok, now that you make me think about it, it could represent, I don't know, a missing piece in someone's life? I mean, everybody has their own void inside, right? Nobody feels 100% complete, there's always a piece of the puzzle we can't find or that we lost in the way. And it can be very different things: a person, a passion, a goal in life. What do you think?”

“I think it'd be the perfect matching tattoo for a couple”

“A couple? Hahaha I didn't know you were so romantic!”

“Not necessarily a romantic couple. Also between two big friends. Or brothers. Think about it, one person can have the incomplete puzzle tattoed and the other one can have the missing piece, which fits in it perfectly”

“That's an idea. It should represent a strong bond. Between brothers... or a parent and a child”

“Sure, also” the latter not necessarily being a strong bond...

“A mother... a mother could get this one, with one or more missing pieces depending on how many children she's got.And the children will be the missing pieces” and what if the missing parts are the parents instead?

“And they you'll inject ink in those chubby baby arms of theirs!”

“Hahahah shut up! They can have it done when they're grown up. OR... you can draw the missing pieces in the same tattoo, a little further” Meg takes the sketchbook from my hands and starts drawing as she speaks, taken from sudden inspiration.

“You can also put the name in it. Or initials”

“Which name?”

“Of the child. Inside the puzzle piece”

“Sure, if I knew the name”

“What do you mean? Haha how can a mother not know the name?”

Meg gives me a weird look, then smiles: “I meant, if only you could give me a name to have a try”

“Try with Angie” I smirk.

“A random one”

“Totally random”

“Don't even try, I'm not gonna get matching tattoos with you, forget it” she shakes her head as she starts sketching a cursive A inside the drawing.

“SHUT UP! I'm scared of getting my earlobes pierced, do you think I'd get a tattoo?! You're crazy”

“Oh, I see, you wanna get one with Eddie?”

“Come on, hurry up, we need to go shopping”

“Hahaha this enthusiasm from you surprises me, abstinence can be powerful”

“MEG!”

“Do you really think we can find a slutty nightgown in a thrift shop?” Meg doesn't watch her tone as we stop in front of Rummage Hall.

“Shhhhhh! I don't wanna buy a slutty nightgown, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“You don't want to? We went out exactly for that”

“You said I should wear something nice but not too much. I don't wanna go too far or Eddie will understand...”

“Excuse me, isn't that the purpose of the whole thing? Make him understand?”

“Yes but...”

“Well, slutty it is, then!” Meg enters the shop and I tag along.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh”

“Anyway we're not gonna find shit in here” my friend takes long strides towards the clothing section.

“Where did you want to go? Nancy Meyer? I've got no money for that stuff”

“No, but Fantasy Unlimited is a short walk away”

“BUT THAT- ehm... that is an adult shop” I raise my voice too without noticing, then shush myself up.

“And you're an adult, aren't you? Anyway they've got very cute things, I bought a lot of stuff there, that for the record I use also to go to clubs. Well, now only to go to clubs” she shrugs as she's examining a satin-like robe and then puts it back.

“You just need two triangles of fabric to be dressed and look nice, Meg, but for me it's slightly different”

“You just need triangles a little bigger, what's the problem?”

“The problem is there are no triangles big enough for me”

“Shut up!”

“And I don't know if Eddie would like that, I mean, I don't know his preferences” maybe he doesn't like this kind of seduction artifices, maybe he prefers a simpler style, a more natural approach. Why the fuck am I not naturally hot?

“He's a guy and he's heterosexual, what would his preferences ever be? The more skin he sees, the happier he is” it's Meg's very easy answer.

“My skin?”

“Yes, why?”

“There's too much skin in my case, maybe I'd better hide it” who am I kidding? You don't just put something cute on and turn into an attractive girl. You must be able to carry it around and feel confident in those clothes. I don't even feel comfortable now that I have a coat on. I'm never comfortable, except sometimes, with Eddie. Why ruin everything? I'll just show up like this, with a coat on. Or my fleece robe, I mean, he's used at my shitty outfits, this would be nothing new.

“Angie, what the fuck are you talking about?? He wants to see your skin because he likes you, I thought that had been already established by now”

“He likes me, altogether”

“No, fuck altogether, fuck mind, personality and all the other bullshit”

“Bullshit?”

“Angie, he likes your body, you turn him on, he wants you”

“He wants me so much than I gotta dress slutty to have him notice me?”

“The point is not having him notice you, that's what you got totally wrong. He already noticed you, you're with him basically! The point is letting him know you're ready for the next step. And stimulate him a little, warming up the atmosphere”

“If you say so” warming up, uh?

“Fuck, Angie, you're gonna give me a nervous breakdown sooner or later!” Meg pinches the bridge of her nose and I'm afraid she's really about to explode.

“Don't yell! There's people here” I complain looking around in embarrassment and hoping no one is listening to our conversation.

“Listen, when you're together... don't you ever notice anything in him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Whenever you kiss or hug... I mean, when you make out and stuff”

“Well, he looks... invested, focused on me and always gives me those looks that-”

“Ok ok, the look of love. But apart from that? Nothing else? Can't you feel anything?”

“What am I supposed to feel?”

“You know, since you also sleep together... and stuff”

“Stuff and stuff... Couldn't you be more clear?”

“Have you ever felt... something knocking?”

“Knocking?”

“Hasn't mini-Eddie ever popped up to say hi?”

“Mini... MEG WHAT THE FUCK??”

“Does he get hard? You must have noticed”

“DID YOU LOSE YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”

“Shhh stop yelling, there's people here” Meg chuckles and I'd kick her ass.

“You're to lock up” I grab her from the sleeve of her jacket and try to drag her out of the shop with me but she pushes me towards the books section.

“Jeez, you're such a prude”

“I'm not a prude, I'm just... discreet”

“Ok so have you ever discreetly checked if he gets a boner or not when he's with you?”

“Apart from the fact that it doesn't mean anything”

“Sure, now Eddie gets random boners with no reason, after all he's in his full pubescent phase”

“You're joking but it's true. Erections are not necessarily linked to sexual arousal only. Do you know men can get erections at the point of death too under certain circumstances?”

“Oh really? And how many times did Eddie die recently?” she smirks.

“Anyway, that said... it's none of your business” I turn the other way trying to look upset and as I look towards the clothing section, where we were until five minutes ago, I spot something I hadn't noticed before.

“I already know anyway!” Meg yells behind my back as I walk away towards the object of my interest, then she catches up with me “Come on, don't be mad. I'm sorry. I just wanted to prove my point! And tease you a little”

“What do you think about this?” I turn around showing the item I've just taken from the line.

“I think that... well, considering it's Eddie, we would never find something better to stimulate him, not ever at Fantasy Unlimited. Buy it!”

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

I'm halfway between the first and the second floor when I realize I took the stairs instead of the elevator. I stop for a second, contemplating how stupid I am and trying to remember the moment I put autopilot on. I probably lost some lucidity once I parked outside Angie's condo. Was the doorway open? I think so, 'cause I don't remember buzzing and I'd remember if I had heard her voice, even through that shitty croaky buzzer. It looks like spending more time together hasn't changed the effect that the idea of seeing her has on me. I hope it'll never change. I shake my head and start walking up the stairs, two steps at a time, to arrive sooner. I didn't exactly run but when I get to the fourth floor I feel flushed. I take a deep breath, pull up my backpack and walk down the hallway to Angie's apartment. The first weird thing I notice is a sound: the sound of a saxophone, which becomes louder and louder as I get closer. The second weird thing shows up as soon as I turn down the corner and see something's wrong in Angie's door. As I come closer I realize the hallway lamp casts a narrow beam of light on the floor inside the apartment and from that I notice that the door is half-closed. As far as I know Angie double locks herself up even in her bathroom when she's home alone, she'd never let the apartment door open. I walk up slowly and in the meantime I open my backpack and stick my hand in it to find something I could use as a weapon. I don't really wanna waste some good wine crashing the bottle on the head of an elusive burglar. But I also doubt the videotape of Harold and Maude would have the same effect. I grab the bottle from the neck as I push the door open and cautiously enter the apartment. And I immediately notice two things. First of all I see there's something on the floor and at first they seem parts of a colorful object that broke into pieces. But as I lean down to see better, I take some of these fragments in my hand and figure out it's nothing but flowers, abandoned on the floor. I grope my way looking for water or glass pieces of a fallen and then shattered vase but I can't find anything. Now that I think about it, there was no vase of flowers here, at least not until this morning. Almost at the same time, I realize it's not really flowers but only petals and they seem to form a path towards the living room. In that moment I figure out I can follow the path of the blue and red petals on the floor with my eyes because the entrance is not lit only by the external hallway light but also by some burning candles placed on the phone table and on the shoe cabinet.

Oh.

I quickly stand up, feeling stupid for mistaking a romantic setting for a crime scene. I finally close the door behind me and follow the way led by the flowers, walking towards the living room and imagining the different scenes I could find, which have all the same main character. But she's the one missing when I get in the room, all that I find is more candles, the small table laden with delicious food and further away, between the two couches, a basket with a composition of blue and red flowers, just like the petals on the floor. Your love is king sings Sade in the background, that is not exactly background, since the volume is pretty loud. And I'm just standing here, wine still in my hand, waiting for Angie to magically show up, maybe with a little ambush behind my back, covering my eyes with her hands or in any other way she came up with. But that doesn't happen. Suddenly I think I hear a sound, more sounds, actually an almost regular sequence of sounds. I go and turn down the music a little and the series of dull thuds sounds clearer. Maybe a romantic setting doesn't exclude a crime scene... what the fuck is happening?

“Angie?” I call her and get no answer.

The noise comes from the kitchen and that's where I go, quickly but with caution. At first I slowly open the door to peep in, then I fling it open when I see Angie at the window, leaning outside, basically perched on the windowsill.

“Angie!” I call her again but she can't hear me. So I put the wine bottle on the table and reach out for her, shaking her by her shoulder “Angie what th-”

“AAH! Oh shit, Y'ALL WATCH OUT DOWN THERE!” Angie jumps and starts yelling outside the window, then I can hear a sharp noise, like something shattered into pieces and that's when I look out too to see what's happening.

What's happening is that there a small group of people on the pavement just outside the condo, standing in a sort of circle around a red expanding stain, while a guy curses and gives the middle finger in our direction.

“Angie... what did you do? What does it mean?” I ask as we both stuck our heads back inside the apartment.

“I've just lost a bottle of red wine and a boot” Angie sighs and replies as if it's the most normal thing, finally turning to face me.

And I finally focus for a moment and see what's in front of me: Angie, dressed in just a black The Who t-shirt that leaves her legs almost entirely uncovered, eye liner or whatever it is on her eyes, with those little wings on the sides pointing upwards that make her look more like a kitty, a glossy lipstick on her lips, vanilla scent. Maybe the burglar hit and killed me and this is heaven.

“Well, I can make up for the wine because I brought some too...” I walk backwards towards the table without taking my eyes off her, pointing at the place where I must have put the bottle “and I can go out and get back your shoe in no time. So, you see? Everything has a solution hehe, don't worry” why the fuck am I laughing? Do I think I'm funny? And why am I sweating?

“I'm sorry you have to go, you've just arrived” she replies with an irresistible pout, moving away from the window and breaking eye contact looking down.

“No problem, I'll be back in a minute.” I'm about to leave the kitchen, then I come back in “Oh wait, I can't”

“Oh ok... why? I mean, it doesn't matter Eddie, don't... don't worry” she starts stuttering and I smirk inside, trying to look cool.

“I forgot I have to do something first”

“What?” she asks puzzled before I get close and take her face between my hands to kiss her.

“This. I'll be right back, ok?” I whisper right after.

“Ok” she smiles and I kiss her again.

“And just so you know, when I'm back I got a bunch of questions about all this to ask you”

“Ok” her smiles widens and I kiss her once more.

“I'm telling you in advance so I won't catch you unprepared”

“Ok...” she repeats and I'm about to kiss her once again but she holds me back with her hands against my chest “Now go though”

“Uh is that so?” I try and get my kiss but she pushes me harder away.

“Hurry up”

“I'm going, I'm going. So bossy...” I let go of her and leave the kitchen, only to show up on the doorway a second later, only for a moment “I like it”

It takes me a while to find the boots, I mean, the boot, Angie's brown one, cause it rolled down the sidewalk under a parked car. When I find it, I instinctively look up, as if I'm expecting to see her still there, at the window, with her colorful hair fluttering in the night breeze. But she's not there and I immediately go back inside. And during the whole way, this time using the elevator, I try and figure out the connection between wine and boot and the dynamics that brought them both out of the window. I walk up to the apartment and Sade is still singing.

“Thank you, Eddie. Do you want some?” I turn around the corner in the hallway and Angie's on the doorway with a bowl of chips in her hands and she holds it out to me as I get closer.

I want you I'd tell her but I just give her the boot and take the bowl and bury my hand in it.

“Anytime” I watch her quickly walking away into her room, quickly walking on her naked legs... GET IT TOGETHER MAN, YOU'RE SWEATING.

“Why are you standing there like that? Come in” Angie comes back and I'm still here at the door eating chips.

“I was waiting for you” I shrug and follow the flower path and her steps once again into the living room.

“So?” she asks when we're in front of the couch and I put the bowl of chips down on the small wooden table, since I believe we're about to sit down. Yet she keeps standing and smiles at me, with the tip of her canine popping up and diggin into her lower lip for a second as usual.

“So?” I repeat getting closer till my face is inches from hers, but without hugging her or kissing her, as if there's a game, a challenge between us, a challenge I'll surely fail.

“The bunch of questions... “ she looks down and, tugging the hem of her t-shirt down, she quickly takes a seat and I'm sure she's blushing even though she's not looking at me.

“Ok... Sade?” I point at the record player and sit down beside her, as I take off my jacket and throw it on the other couch.

“Hahaha of all this mess, the strangest thing to you is Sade's record?”

“No. But it's the first thing I thought of now”

“Don't you like it? It's... it's a good album” she turns towards me and subtly closes the distance between us on the couch at the same time.

“She's very good, it's just I didn't think you liked her. Can I ask the second question?”

“Sure”

“What the hell were you doing at the window with a bottle and a boot?” Angie's grin widens again.

“I was trying to open the wine bottle” she shrugs as if this is the most obvious explanation.

“By kicking it?”

“Hahaha more or less. My dad taught me”

“I sense a memorable anecdote is coming, I'm all ears”

Angie tells me about that time when she went on a camping trip with her parents to Lake Payette, her father's idea to celebrate his and his wife's birthdays, that I guess must be very close. On night one Ray pulled out a bottle of wine he had brought for the occasion but realized he forgot the corkscrew. He pounced on the cork with a knife but it seemed he couldn't open the bottle. Janis wanted to postpone the toast to the following evening, after going to the nearby shop and buying the bottle opener. There was no way to convince Ray though. So Angie's dad, as nothing happened, took off his boot in front of them, stuck the fuckin' bottle in it and, without saying a word, walked clumsily on a single boot up to the closest ponderosa pine and started slamming the bottle, protected by his shoe, against the trunk.

“You know, the pressure inside the bottle pushes the cork out, until you can grab it and take it off with your hands. My mom and I were doubled over in laughter” as she tells the story, Angie crosses her legs and moves on the couch and this makes her shirt go up little by little. I notice that and feel kind of an asshole.

“But it worked”

“And that was the first time I tasted wine: I was 11. It was good, although it had been shaken for 15 minutes”

“This means you got no corkscrew here at home?”

“Yeah... I mean, actually we had one, but I can't find it anymore. I guess someone took it at my birthday party or Matt or Chris borrowed it and haven't returned it yet. Sure it didn't seem wise to go there and ask them now, you know...” yes, I know, you didn't ask them because they'd have asked questions you don't wanna answer, at least by now.

“And you decided to use the Pacifico technique”

“And since I don't have any tree here, the only way to do it was beating the bottle against the wall. But I didn't want to risk getting the kitchen dirty so...”

“Hehe so you figured you'd do it out of the window?” I adore this woman.

“Yep. And it was working fine, until a certain someone scared me and made me drop everything. And I made a mess” she gives me a playful nasty look and scoots away from me.

“You're right, it's all my fault.” I scoot over on the couch to sit back close to her “But I know how to make you forgive me” ok, more than close basically glued to her.

“How?” she looks up at me amused, basically batting her eyelids against mine.

“Opening the other bottle” I stand up out of the blue and I leave her there, maybe a little disappointed? I go into the kitchen, take the bottle and open the window.

“With the Pacifico technique?” she asks as she shows up at the kitchen door.

“Nuh, with the Vedder one” I peer outside, remove the wrapper, pull out my lighter and start heating the end of the bottle neck with the flame.

“Isn't this dangerous?” I feel one arm circling my hip and for a minute there the red wine bottle was about to end the same way as Angie's one.

“No, I did it so many times” I answer as I rotate the bottle.

“Hey, it's coming out!” Angie exclaims behind my back while the cork starts moving.

At that point I tilt the bottle slightly as to prevent the cork from exploding like a bullet inside the apartment or into somebody else's window. Finally the corks pops out and falls into the street, where it looks like he doesn't hit anyone. Wine is safe too.

“See! Hot air expands inside the bottle and pushes the cork.” I close the window and triumphantly show the uncorked bottle to Angie, who arches her eyebrow at me “What? I can do science too, you know”

“So you also know you could have caused an explosion and get hurt?” she rolls her eyes and by the way is still hugging me.

“Not if you know how to do it and and to be careful. So, am I forgiven?” I ask, raising the bottle at her as if it was a toast.

“Sure!” she chuckles and looks at me in silence for a while. And I'm expecting a kiss but instead, she lets go of me and exits the kitchen, but not before addressing me again “Let's go taste you boiled wine”

The wine is not boiled at all and it's not bad. Angie and I are at the second round and, as I'm stuffing my face with chips and sandwiches, I realize it's getting hot in here. I mean, I can't be this heated for two glasses of wine. And neither for the half nakedness of Angie. Even though... And this is the moment I figure out my usually chilly girlfriend is dressed only in a t-shirt and I can't hear her teeth chatter for the cold, so there must be something going on here.

“My bunch of questions aren't over anyway...” I say and Angie makes herself comfortable on the couch, half laid and leaning on the armrest.

“Shoot”

“It's fucking hot in here, isn't it?” I ask as I take off my flannel and she starts laughing uncomfortably and, as she tries to sit up, her feet get closer, touch my legs and push against me a little to leverage. But I don't move an inch.

“Hahaha yeah, you're right... as you can see, tonight's really the perfect night: just one disaster after another”

“Why? What happened?” I throw the shirt there were my jacket is.

“I don't know, it must... the heating system must be broken, and that's not unusual. The new thing is... this time, I don't know... they kind of broke the other way round and it's been heating non stop at full power since this afternoon”

“Do you want me to check your radiators?”

“No point trying, it's not just here, the whole building is burning basically”

“Do you want me to go down and check the boiler room?”

“NO!” Angie basically kicks me, then regains her composure “Err no, no worries. And then, I mean, the apartment manager is the one who's supposes to take care of this stuff and call technicians, that's what he's paid for! He'll do the work”

“Ok”

“And what if you can't solve the problem and maybe no one can and they blame you because you put your hand in there...”

“Alright”

“And by the way, at least it's not freezing, for a change”

“Well, yeah, still better than freezing but...”

“I know. Shitty building. Anyway, now you know the... ehm, you know why I'm dressed like... this” Angie goes on and pulls down her t-shirt again to cover her thighs.

“I wouldn't call it a disaster then” I smirk and rub the back of my hand softly against her leg, from her ankle to her knee. She stares at me in the eyes and for a moment I'm sure she's about to throw herself over me and kiss me, but I'm wrong again.

“So? Which movie do we watch first? Mine or yours?” she asks out of the blue.

“You decide” actually I even forgot about the movies, the heat, the wine, about where we are and maybe what year we are as well.

“No, come on, you tell me” my hand is still going up and down.

“It's the same for me, Angie”

“Same for me too”

“You're the host, you choose”

“You're my guest, so it's up to you” of course, as always: it's up to me.

“Uhm... alright! Let's watch yours first then”

“Ok! The tape is there under the tv, would you put it on? I'll get some water” in a fraction of a second Angie sneaks away into the kitchen and I find myself alone. I turn off the stereo then crawl in front of the tv to get the Goodfellas tape and as I do I think about one thing. Well, actually two. One worse than the other. The first thing is that I'd rather have gone to get the water instead of Angie, so I could come back here and see her on hands and knees as she fumbles with the videorecorder, and that it'd have made for a very nice view. My second thought is that the tv looked much better in Angie's room and it'd have been much more enjoyable to watch it with her from her bed.

Disgusting thoughts indeed.

“Did you find it?” Angie's question startles me as if I was caught red handed doing something illicit.

“Yep” I press Play, stand up and try to get back on the couch before her. I do and sit right in the middle of it. So she won't be able to sit far from me. I gloat for my smar idea.

“If you want to be more comfortable, just lay down. I'm gonna sit there. Hehe we have one couch each if we want to” is Angie even aware of her endless power? The power to leave me totally speechless with such statements?

“Actually... I don't want to”

“Are you sure?” well, I don't know... WHAT DO YOU THINK?

“Very sure, I don't want a whole couch for me, I wanna share it with you” I hold my arms out and grab her by her waist, pulling her gently towards me until I finally take her back on this couch. And I hold her and kiss her and touch her, pushing her delicately towards the armrest on her side. And at some point I feel her hand moving right under my body. I think I know what she's about to do and I feel euphoric all of a sudden. But Angie is able to surprise me again, because even if I don't see her doing it, I can clearly feel her gesture of grasping at the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it down for the umpteenth time. I internally laugh at my stupid X-rated delusions, although on the other hand I'm sorry Angie doesn't feel comfortable with me yet. I don't wanna hurry, really, I'd just like to know what the problem is. I give her one last peck on her lips and back away so we can both sit up properly.

“Ok. Let's fastforward all the commercials and advisories. Where's the remote? Oh there it is!” Angie, the one who was about to abandon me all by myself on this couch, the one who was coy and bashful during my approach like two minutes ago, it's the same girl that basically climbs on me to jump over on the opposite side and stretch out to take the remote on the other armrest. And then does the same thing backwards to get back to her place. And I'm not complaining at all.

We're almost at the end of my movie and this is the situation: we finished the wine I don't even remember when, as for food only a few snacks and two small chocolate cakes are left; I'm in my t-shirt and boxers because it's really hot, although we opened the window in the living room; Angie's smoking a cigarette, resting on the couch with her legs over mine and I've been genty stroking them for literal HOURS, something that contributes in heating the atmosphere even more. And I also feel kind of guilty, because Harold has just rushed to the hospital with Maude and I already know what's about to happen and the ending breaks my heart every time... and I'm here, basking in the softness and smoothness of Angie's skin under my fingers.

“It's so sad. But also beautiful at the same time” she remarks during the credits.

“Yeah. You really haven't seen it before?”

“Never. And now I see why you like it”

“Hehe right, Cat Stevens has something to do with it” I reply since I think she's referring to the soundtrack.

“Uhm yeah but that's not what I meant. What I wanted to say is that... well, this movie is like you” she takes one long last hit of smoke, then puts out her cigarette in the ashtray she placed on the floor. And she's amazing. Not because she's smoking but... I know it's not nice to say, and it's also unhealthy, a bad bad habit, but... there are times, particular times in which, maybe fuelled by excessive domestic heating and subsequent nudity, I see something extremely sexy in a woman who's smoking.

“Absurd?”

“Absurd, eccentric, thoughtful, bitter and sweet...” Angie slowly counts the adjectives on her fingertips and I can't say she didn't get them right. This means she knows there's something bitter, and dark inside me. Maybe that's why she doesn't trust me completely yet.

“Eccentric uh?” a devilish grin appears on my face.

“Oh well...”

“Said the girl who tried to open a bottle with a shoe outside the window”

“Ok this is gonna be another of those recurring jokes you're gonna use to take the piss out of me for the rest of my life, isn't it?”

“Yes... after all, I can't make fun of you for your nights out with Meg to pick up guys anymore, I have to find a substitute”

“Really? And why?” she adjust herself better on the couch to sit up and for a minute I'm afraid I'll lose touch with her legs, but she still keeps them over mine.

“Because you're not having those anymore” I hold her by the hips as she puts her hands on my shoulders.

“Are you sure?”

“You don't need to”

“So can I hang up my infallible pick up techniques now?”

“Sure, now that you picked me up”

“How I made it is still unknown...”

“With your infallible pick up techniques, of course”

“That are? Not doing absolutely anything?” as if she needed to do something to have me fall for her. I lay down on the couch and pull her with me.

“Being yourself and not doing absolutely anything, the best way”

“If you say so...” she mutters and she tries to sit back up but I hold her tight and prevent her from sneaking away. At this point, also not to slip and fall off the couch, she has to more or less straddle me.

“It worked with me, can't you see that?” I grab her as she tries to wriggle free, I hold her tighter and slip my hand under her t-shirt, to caress her back.

“Eddie! Come on, let me sit up...”

“Why?”

“Because I'm hurting you...”

“Shut up!”

“It's true and you know it”

“You can't crush me, I can feel you got all the weight on your knees and arms”

“Because I wanna spare you asphyxiation?”

“Cut.The.Crap.” I decide I'm gonna do this the hard way and my hand sneaks across her back towards her armpit so I can tickle her, but she gives up long before I get there. Mental note: Angie is very ticklish “Oh, that's better!”

“Hahaha stop it!”

“Much better” I repeat when we find ourselves basically nose to nose and then I stop torturing her, close my eyes and breathe in silence with her for five minutes, I think, waiting for something... that never comes. Angie removes her hands from my hair, where she had casually buried them in the heat of the moment. Then she holds on to the pillows, pulls herself up and backs away from me.

“I'll turn off the tv” Angie stretches out her hand to get the remote from the table where I put, then sits back down at my feet. I take a deep breath and sit up too.

“I'd better go” I'm about to stand up but Angie, with a quick move, grabs me by the arm and pulls me back down on the couch.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

“Home, so I'll let you sleep” I pinch her cheek and try to stand up again but Angie doesn't let me.

“But I don't wanna sleep! Well, I mean... you can sleep with me, you know, you can crash at my place”

“Even tonight?”

“Yes, why? Don't you want to?” Angie's torturing the hemline of her t-shirt again and if she tugs at it some more, it'll become a tunic.

“Sure I want to. I thought that it may be a problem”

“A problem about what?”

“I don't know, because of Meg?”

“Meg won't be here, she's sleeping over at her friend's”

“But she'll be back tomorrow morning, right? What if she sees me again? What will she think?” I'm saying it for her, not for me. If she sees me and does the math, I'll be nothing but happy.

“What will she think? Nothing. Anyway, I already told her”

“You told her?” I ask, suddenly interested and full of hope. Did she really tell someone we're a couple?

“Yeah, I told her you'd come over tonight. And that maybe you'd sleep here” hope destroyed in ten seconds. Maybe.

“And what did she say?”

“She said ok” Angie shrugs and takes the last two cakes left from the table, biting on one and handing me the other one.

“Ok? Only ok?” I take a bite too.

“Sure, what were you expecting?”

“Nothing. But... I think Meg knows then”

“Sure she knows, I've just told you! Why all these problems all of a sudden?”

“No, I mean she knows... about us...” a second bite and no more cake.

“NO! I... I didn't tell her anything”

“Angie... it's the 4th time we sleep together in a week, I don't think you need to tell her. If she's not stupid, she'll understand by herself.

“She knows we sleep together but she doesn't know... what... ehm... what we do” Angie eats the rest of her chocholate cake and pours herself half a glass of water to swallow it better.

“She can assume it, I guess” seriously, Meg's assumptions surely go well beyond what actually happens between Angie and I in reality.

“Meg has no trouble to say what she thinks: if she had suspects, she'd have openly told me”

“You should do it”

“What?”

“Openly tell her, about us”

“WHAT? WHY?” why the hell is she so scared?

“'Cause she's a friend to you and you have to start somewhere, don't you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Listen, we already talked about it, do you wanna keep it secret? Ok, I'm in. But you could take things gradually, with no big collective announcements, just by telling it to one single person. And why not your best friend?”

“I don't know, maybe because she's totally incapable of keeping a secret?” Angie looks at me as if I was stupid and rolls her eyes.

“Well, that's so much better, isn't it. We only need to tell Meg, then she'll get the word out for us” I try and hug her and she slaps my chest in response.

“Fuck you, Eddie”

“Let's go to bed?”

“Mmm... ok”

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