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#this conversation is the only one i could think of when trying to figure it out
luveline · 2 days
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BABE i miss badass bau!reader!!! do you feel up to write something about her and spencer? 🫣🫣
—Spencer comforts you, even when you think you don’t need it. fem, 1.2k
You’d think that agents and staff working for the Behavioural Analysis Unit would use a little subtlety when gossiping about their coworkers. It’s in the name. You’re a profiler, after all, but you wouldn’t need to be to know that the sudden quiet that falls over the kitchenette area when you walk in is for a reason. 
You’re determined to act unbothered. Only, it’s high school all over again, the whispering and the staring boring holes in the back of your head, and you’re thinking What are they saying about me? What have you done now? 
Flustered, you make a cup of herbal tea and forget it on the counter by the sink. Humiliated, you rush back to your desk. 
Spencer doesn’t look up as you sit. Your desks are together again for now, but who knows what whim will have Hotch separating you again. Last time it had been for ‘enabling bad behaviour’. 
So what if Spencer likes to talk? He’d only think all the things he’s saying to himself. You’re speeding up the process if anything by listening. Plus, whatever the others might think, he’s interesting, smart and funny and he deserves to be listened to when he wants to tell you things. 
“Hey,” you say, trying to push the humiliation brewing in your chest back to a quiet place. 
“Hey,” he says. He talks to you in a way he doesn’t with the others. He’s more relaxed, less exuberantly friendly and more like a true friend. 
He’s the only one in this whole office you’d ever want to sit next to every day. “Hi. What are you reading?” 
Spencer folds his novel closed over his hand, an answer on his lips that stutters and fades. “Hey, are you okay?” 
“I’m fine.” 
“You look unhappy.” 
It’s that unfortunate moment that Morgan decides to arrive, a cup of coffee in one hand, a brown paper bag in the other. He shrugs out of his leather jacket, eyeing you both where you’ve stopped your conversation, the slight light of smugness to his eyes as he says, “Doesn’t she always?” 
“Around you, Morgan, yes,” you say, turning your body fully to your computer. “That would be accurate.” 
Morgan laughs heartily. “You love me.” 
Maybe. You certainly don’t like him. Or, you’re annoyed with him most of the time. You wonder occasionally if he and the rest of your teammates are emotionally blind, considering the way they treat Spencer. Everybody makes their funny ‘harmless’ jokes, you’ve never understood why. They’re profilers, aren’t they? Can’t they tell it hurts his feelings?  And they love to tell you that Spencer’s your soft spot, he is, but he’s also a nice boy who wants to be listened to above all else, so you’re a little bitter about it. You weren’t too sweet to begin with. 
Today, you aren’t in the mood. You ignore Morgan and open your emails. 
“You want tea?” Spencer asks, standing from his desk. 
“No.”
“You always have tea in the morning. I’ll make it. Sit tight.” 
You follow Spencer’s figure as he leaves. Morgan wiggles his eyebrows at you from across the divider. 
“Do you ever think about taking him out?” Morgan asks. 
“That’s an inappropriate question,” you say. You aren’t monotone, but you certainly don’t bustle with emotion either.
“You like him, he likes you.” 
That’s exactly what Spencer needs, you think bitterly, the moody girlfriend, another thing to make him an outsider.
“You make each other happy,” Morgan continues.
“You get the same blueberry muffin every day,” you say, clicking an email attachment Hotch sent this morning distractedly, the temptation to roll your eyes at an all time high, “will you marry the baker?” 
“I could. His wife might not like the idea.” 
You hold in a smile. You sort of maybe do love Morgan, even when he’s prying. Better when Spencer returns and Morgan asks about the younger man’s weekend trip to Quantico’s seven floor library. 
“It was awesome,” Spencer says, putting a mug down in front of your keyboard, his palm still warm from the mug taking temporary station on your shoulder. “There were more books about inmate crime than there were dictionaries. Is that okay?” 
You take a sip of your tea. “It’s perfect,” you confess once you’ve swallowed. How does he know how you like it? He must steep it just as you do. Even the water level. You’d think it were the tea you’d left behind if it wasn’t in a new mug, scalding hot. 
“Morgan, could you excuse us, please? For five minutes?” Spencer asks. 
Your eyes widen of their own accord. Morgan makes flirty winky faces to hide his concern and meanders up the steps to Hotch’s office, pointedly looking away from the bullpen and your mess of desks. 
“What’s going on?” you ask. 
“I was hoping you’d tell me,” Spencer says. 
He’s wearing his glasses today, a rare sight these days, less so at the office when you’re sure there won’t be a case to go on. His hair curls at the base of his neck and flicks out under his ears, brown eyes like the flat of a mirror against the light, dark and deep. You wince when you realise you’ve been looking him over intensely, averting your eyes to the cup of tea warming your fingers. 
“You know you can tell me anything,” he says. 
“Sure.” 
“I’d defend you. Just like you would for me.” 
You drag your eyes to his. “I don’t know what you mean.” 
“I mean, if you want me to go fight your corner, I will.” 
“Who says I need that?” 
“It’s Madge, right? The blonde woman with the pearl earrings. She and Andrea monopolise the kitchen in the morning and talk about all of us.” 
You hate profilers, but you could never hate Spencer. You can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he’s worked out what perturbed you so quickly. 
You cross your arms over your chest, leaning back in your desk chair slowly. “There’s no point arguing with them, babe, you’d end up at Human Resources by the end of the day forced to write an apology letter.” 
Spencer looks like he wants to touch you again, hand heistant, fingers moving as though he’s typing curled into his palm. “I’ll stick up for you if you want me to. I don’t care if they make me write a letter.” 
“Can’t argue over silence,” you say.
It’s a kind offer, and he really is so handsome. Everybody else in the office might drive you up the wall but he’s a sweetheart, through and through. 
“I like when you smile. Doesn’t happen much,” he murmurs. 
If it were anyone else, you’d tell them to fuck off. “Thank you, Spencer. I like your smile too.” 
He leans down for a hug. Again, if it were anyone else, you’d wriggle out of reach and give a speech on boundaries, but it’s him. He folds his arms behind your head and back, encouraging your face into the crook of his neck as he bends to meet you, gentle even when you don’t hug him back. “Don’t listen to anybody,” he says, rubbing your shoulder with his thumb. 
“I don’t.” 
“Who cares if they’re talking about us?” Spencer asks. 
You touch his waist. “Not me.” 
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erwinsvow · 2 days
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imagine if rafe and pogue reader’s relationship was just a bet between him and his kook friends, to see if he could ACTUALLY get her to fall in love with him, like to get her to be all over him and how long that would last, and the reader finds out omgggg. And they break up lol
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you think the ending bits of the conversation between your boyfriend and his friends hurts more than everything you just overheard.
"you really think i'd settle for some fuckin' pogue pussy? nah man, top owes me fifty bucks now."
you hadn't heard the entire exchange, just from the part where you heard your name. stupidly, like a naive girl in love with the type of boy she'd only ever dreamt about, you tuned in, thinking rafe was telling his friends something you'd want to hear.
hiding—as embarassing as it is—behind the wall, holding back tears though they don't care enough to stay held back, they pour down your cheeks as the hits keep coming. the boys laugh, but the ringing in your ears had been so loud you hadn't heard the rest of the joke, didn't understand what was so funny.
the first thought in your mind is that you can't believe how stupid you were. the second is that pope and jj and john b had all been right, that it was too good to be true, that he was playing you somehow, that he was a liar and scumbag. you had ignored what your best friends had been telling you, trying so hard to believe that they were wrong, that they didn't know rafe, or at least your rafe, the one who was sweet and funny and never let you drive anywhere or pay for a thing, the one who paraded you around town like you were something who deserved to be showed off, the one who you took back to your tiny house and introduced to your hard-working parents.
you resist the urge to slide down the wall you're leaning against, though every muscle in your body wants to keel over and cry until you can't cry anymore.
you'd been embarassed enough—they didn't need to see you like this too. wiping away tears with the back of your hand, sniffling but trying to stay quiet, you wait for the boys to walk away so you could sneak out of here and pretend that you'd never even come—though you'd only come because rafe said he was having friends over and you'd baked them some snacks for their game, thought you were being a good girlfriend and doing the things a good girlfriend does.
footsteps and laughter echo in the other room—they're gone. the second it's silent, a sob wrangles itself out, eyes getting blurry again. you don't know how you're gonna bike home if you can't stop crying. your fingers fly across your screen, dialing jj's number. you'd been upset at the blond because he seemed to be the most against you and rafe dating, had the meanest things to say and was the first to insinuate there was something wrong if rafe wanted to date you.
you'd been so insulted, so hurt by his words that the two of you had gone from talking every single day to maybe once a week. you hope he doesn't hold it against you now, but a part of you knows jj never would—that's just the kind of guy he is. he answers by the second ring, and you try to stay quiet, just incase they hear you.
"j? can you come get me? i-um, i'm at tannyhill-" the last part is said with another sob, breaking into a fit of tears again. he says he's with pope and that he's coming, and you hate that they heard you cry, because knowing the two of them they'll go thirty over if they think you're upset. you wanna get out of here, but you don't want them to die.
heart thudding, eyes watery, limbs weak, you stay against that wall for a moment. before you can make your way to the door, rafe's figure steps in to where you are. he sees you before you see him—shoulders shaking, hands wiping away tears.
when you turn to look at him, it doesn't take more a second to know you heard something you shouldn't have.
"hey, listen to me-" he gets closer, and you flinch, backing away. you want to say something mean, something snarky, something that'll hurt him as much as he's hurt you. nothing comes out, and you stare back at him, and you hope he remembers how hard he's made you cry, because you've decided it then and there—you're never seeing rafe cameron ever again.
you dart past him to the door. he follows, reaching out to grab you, but you take off, running down his driveway and into the truck he recognizes as heyward's. you get in, in between pope and jj. the last thing he sees is you crying into maybank's chest while they drive you away, and the last thing he thinks is wondering what the hell he had just done.
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moonstruckme · 3 hours
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I’m not quite sure if this is too explicit so if it is please feel free to decline, but I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader who has a past with sexual assault so is kind of iffy and stand offish about sexual inter course? Again, all good if you can’t because it is a touchy subject ! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night !! (p.s. I love your writing so much :3)
Thank you gorgeous, love you <3
cw: trauma response, mention of past sexual assault
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
Sometimes you can feel left out. Of the easy way the boys touch each other, the knowingness they have of the other’s bodies, the in-jokes about intimate aspects of their relationship that aren’t secret from you but you’re not a part of. And you know in your bones, in that thrumming, impossible-to-ignore beat inside your ribcage, that you’re not ready to be a part of them, but it still hurts to have something about your boys that’s separate from you. Some part of them you can’t access, and it’s only because you won’t allow them access to you in return. 
And sometimes, like now, things go astonishingly well. Sometimes you can let them touch you while feeling nothing but the pleasant warmth of love and lust brewing like a potion in your core. Sometimes you can let yourself tug Sirius closer as he kisses you, can swallow the soft sounds he makes into your mouth without your mind taking you anywhere other than this bed, this boy. 
Sometimes you can get so lost in them it feels like the fear can’t find you. 
“Okay?” Sirius’ breathes, setting a tentative hand on the small of your back. He tastes like coca cola, and his lips are a manifestation of every soft and earnest part of him he never shows. “This okay, sweetness?” 
You nod fervently, trying very hard not to think as you tunnel your fingers into the featherdown silkiness of the hair behind his ear. 
“Yeah?” You’re growing quite sick of all his talking, persistent in your kisses even when Sirius breaks them. His mouth curves against yours, sensing this, and his hand settles more comfortably into the curve of your spine. “Alright, you’re in charge. Just let me know if anything’s too much.” 
You make a muffled sound of acknowledgement. Truly, logically, you feel safe with Sirius, the same as you would with Remus or James. It was his idea that you be on top, after Remus figured out that you feel most comfortable when you don’t feel trapped, after James was the one to initiate the conversation on how they can make you feel good while respecting your (admittedly, nebulous and often fickle) boundaries. You haven’t worked up the courage to do anything beyond kissing, and none of them have pushed you. Really, you’ve been the one doing the pushing, wanting more and more from the kissing until it’s turned into this, you and Sirius hiding from dishwashing duty with you on top of him and sucking his face like a dementor.
You grind your hips down into his, and Sirius’ chuckle rumbles through the both of you as he grabs a greedy handful of your ass. 
Your breath stills in your lungs. 
You still completely, actually, every inch of you rigid, from your bum under Sirius’ hand to your eyes, stuck closed tight. The only part of you that seems to get that you’re still alive is your heart, thrashing wildly inside the bars of your ribcage like it wants to escape when you can’t. 
“Shit.” Sirius’ hand flees upward, skimming up your back to safer territory below your shoulder blades. “Shit, sorry, baby. You okay?” 
You want to tell him yes, in every physical, objective, important way you’re just fine. But your breath is frozen solid somewhere between your throat and your lungs, and it won’t let you speak. 
“Sweetheart.” Sirius is starting to sound desperate, though he’s clearly trying to stay calm for your sake. He sets gentle hands at your waist, sitting you up while he eases out from under you. You expect you’ll move like a statue, but your arms move of their own mind once freed, wrapping tight around your middle. “You’re okay, baby, you’re safe. I’m so sorry, I was—I should have asked. I moved too fast, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you talk to me, please?” 
“Sorry,” you manage. Something comes loose inside you. The air comes back to your lungs, you pull your legs up onto the bed, and laughter unspools from inside you like wire long coiled tight. 
Sirius doesn’t smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. Are you okay?”
It’s now that James and Remus decide to come and see what you’re up to. At the sound of Sirius’ panic-tight voice, their footsteps hasten down the hallway. James taps on the doorframe and you turn to him so fast your neck clicks. His face is melded by a soft worry. 
“Everything alright?” he asks. 
You nod, but Sirius must signal something different from your other side, because James and Remus advance forward the way one might approach a feral kitten. 
“Are you okay?” Sirius asks again, voice cracking now that the other two are here. 
“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Remus says gently. “Maybe stop touching her for a bit.” You hadn’t even noticed Sirius’ hand gripping your leg, but its removal feels like you’ve lost a thousand pounds. You fight back a shiver. “She’s okay. Aren’t you, darling?” 
To hear worry in even Remus’ voice is significant, and you try to make yours even to counter it. “Yeah,” you agree. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” 
“You don’t need to be sorry,” James promises, crouching in front of you and Sirius. You’ve nowhere to hide from his melty-soft gaze. “What happened?” 
“I went too far.” Sirius’ voice sounds like it hurts, scraping its way out of him. Your heart throbs in response. 
You shake your head, insistent and perhaps a touch too fast. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I was—I—I escalated things, and then it just—”
“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs. 
“I’m fine,” you say again. 
“Please, sweetheart. Just try.” 
You do, for his sake, pushing air in and out of your lungs like you’re trying to inflate a balloon. They won’t get as full as you want them too, but it’s not until you try that your body seems to catch up to what’s been happening. You start trembling all over. 
“Shit.” Your voice thickens, tears threatening. “Sorry, this is so uncalled for.” 
“It’s not,” James says. “Can I—can I hold your hand, or are you not ready for that yet?” 
“Please,” you squeak out. 
He grasps your hand, and you squeeze tightly, breathing until the tears don’t press at your eyes so insistently. You hate that the ugly thing of your past is touching something this good. That it’s hurting people who aren’t you, like it’s a virus you caught and now you’re spreading it.
“It’s really not your fault,” you tell Sirius, turning to him. “I thought I could handle it.” 
“I shouldn’t have moved without checking,” he replies in a similar tone. “I’m so sorry, sweetness, I never want to scare you like that.” 
You shake your head. “You don’t.” 
A dense silence lapses, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. James’ hand is warm in yours. 
“Hug?” you ask Sirius. 
He looks surprised. “Are you sure?” 
You nod, extricating your hand from James’ to wrap your arms around his middle. Sirius is tentative at first, palms placed lightly on the high and low points of your back, but when you hold him tighter he reciprocates. You hear Remus whisper something to James. Sirius’ fingers press into your back, the tip of his nose cold where it squishes into your neck. 
Sometimes, they make you feel completely safe. 
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minniesmutt · 1 day
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⚠︎ ━━━ IN...
⚠︎ ━━━  SS + WC: 8 + 2K
⚠︎ ━━━  CONTENT: ANXIETY, TOXIC EX,
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     “I’m here,” Y/n breathed as she approached the building
      “Okay. There’s a parking garage next to the building. Park in there. i gave the building management your car description so they shouldn’t say anything about you parking here.”
     “Alright.”
     Y/n followed his instructions and found a spot to park. 
     “I’m gonna meet you in the lobby. can you get over there for me?”
     “Yeah. can you stay on the phone?”
     “of course.”
     Y/n switched her phone off the car stereo and turned off her car. She grabbed her stuff and got out of her car. making her way towards the door where it said “LOBBY”
     She could hear Jeongin on the over end with Deiji; could even hear the little coos and babbles.
     “Astrid and ji are almost here by the way. should be another ten minutes till they get Deiji. Have you eaten dinner yet?”
     “No. I was trying to figure out what to eat when Jihyun texted me…”
     “Okay. We’ll order dinner. You can stay over in my guest room so you don’t have to go home.”
     “You don’t have to do that for me,” y/n said, opening the door and entering the lobby
     “Y/n, you’re creating a whole human inside of you. The least I can do is buy you food and give you a sense of safety.”
     She heard an elevator ding before she saw the doors opening and Jeongin walking out with a baby girl in his arms. he ended the call and quickly made his way over to her. y/n met him halfway and wrapped her arms around him. 
     “You’re okay,” Jeongin said as he held her against him. 
     “Thank you,” Y/n muttered
     “Come on,” Jeongin ushered her towards the elevators and took her up to his unit. getting her settled on the couch as soon as they got in.
     Jeongin put Deiji down in one of the stand-up toys and sat with Y/n
     “Still shaken up?” he asked 
     “Yeah,” y/n sighed 
     “Does he have your location?” 
     “No. I turned it off when we broke up.”
     “Still texting you?” 
     “Don’t know. ended up muting the conversation.”
     “Can I see?”
     Y/n nodded and handed him her unlocked phone. Jeongin took it from her hand.
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 “Sorry. That was the only thing I could think of,” Jeongin sighed 
     “It’s fine,” Y/n sniffled
     “Come here,” Jeongin pulled her into his arms.
     Y/n wrapped her arms around him and hid herself in his chest. “I’m sorry…”
     “You don’t need to be sorry,” Jeongin told her.
     Y/n buried her face in Jeongin’s chest as Deiji hit one of her toys. The baby toys filled the silence as Jeongin did his best to comfort the mother of his child. A knock at the door interrupted it. 
    Y/n jumped a bit and Jeongin checked his phone. Seeing the texts from his two friends that they were there. “Just Ji and (Astrid).”
     Jeongin unraveled himself from her and got the door. Letting his two friends inside. Y/n said hi to the couple and (Astrid) checked on her. Jisung grabbed his daughter and the diaper bag. 
     The two didn’t stay long, letting the new soon-to-be-parents be. Jeongin locked the door and walked back over to the couch. Settling back down next to her and grabbed his phone, “Dinner?” 
     “‘M not hungry…”
     “You don’t have to eat it right away, but you need to eat,” Jeongin said
     Y/n nodded in response. Jeongin quickly ordered something he knew she’d eat before pulling her back into his arms.
     “You’re good at taking care of people,” Y/n said
     “Can thank (Astird) for that,” Jeongin said
     “So she told me. Putting you through hell,” Y/n said
     “Yeah. But I wouldn't change anything in my life.”
     “Even us sleeping together and getting pregnant?”
     “No. I wouldn’t change it.”
     The two sat on the couch— only getting up to eat which Jeongin was proud he got her to do when the food got there. Ending up with her laying back against him, his hands rubbing her belly. A random Netflix show playing on the TV. Y/n looked down at his fingers gently drumming on her belly. For a moment, living in a little fantasy that they were a little family. 
     “You okay?” Jeongin asked
     “Yeah,” Y/n nodded, not realizing she started crying 
     “Why are you crying?” Jeongin sat up more 
     “Don’t know,” Y/n said, wiping away the tears.
     Jeongin grabbed the box of tissues from the coffee table and handed it to her. Y/n thanked him and wiped away the tears more as he rubbed her back. “You want to talk about it?”
     “No.” Y/n shook her head
     “What do you need?”
     “Think I just need to sleep.”
     Jeongin nodded and helped her up from the couch. Leading her down the hallway of the penthouse to the guest room. “Text me if you need anything. Okay? And I’m just over there if I don't reply.”
     “Thanks,” Y/n smiled and walked into the room. She closed the door behind her and sat on the bed. 
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     Y/n sighed and set her phone on the nightstand and crawled under the covers of the bed. Trying to get some sleep but she was too worried to sleep. Eventually giving up and walking down the hallway to Jeongin’s room. The door was opened and he wasn’t inside so she wandered out to the living room.
     The TV was still playing while he was sitting on the couch with his phone. He looked over as he heard her walking in. “Thought you were sleeping.”
     “Tried, can’t.”
     “You wanna talk?”
     Y/n nodded and sat next to him, “Do you think I can stay for the week? just the whole thing with—“
     “Yeah. That’s fine. I can take you to get some stuff from your place tomorrow,” Jeongin answered 
     “Thank you,” Y/n smiled 
     “Something else bugging you?” 
     “Yeah, but nothing for you to worry about.”
     “I’m going to worry either way.”
     “Just, earlier when i was crying, i got in my head for second about us being a real family. And then i remembered we weren’t together and I always thought when I got pregnant I'd be in a relationship and getting to have a family.”
     “And it’s hurting you’re not?”
     “Just a little. That’s not on you though. we agreed to co-parent and that’s that. I think it just hurts more because I’m actually starting to like you in a romantic sense but—“
     Jeongin nodded, “What if we tried?”
     “In, you don’t —“
     “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t feel the same, Y/n.”
     “Huh?”
     “Okay,” Jeonging turned to face her, “I’d be an idiot not to admit I thought you were pretty when we were at S-class, even though we were drunk and didn’t remember anything. I’d also be dumb not to say I’ve thought about us as a family, dating and raising a kid. My family already likes you, which is a bonus. I’m not saying I'm in love because this is all fresh and it doesn’t feel like we’re there, but I do like you as more than a friend or someone I'm raising a kid with.”
     Y/n looked at him, tears welling in her eyes before she leaned for and wrapped her arms around him. Jeongin wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “I know you're dealing with your ex but my offer is going to stay as long as we have the baby.”
     “I wanna try,” Y/n said as she pulled away from the hug, “I’m tired of Jihyun holding onto my life when he fucks it up. I wanna move on from that.”
     “We’ll go slow then, not rush anything.” 
     “Okay,” Y/n nodded as Jeongin wiped her tears 
     “Okay,” Jeongin answered, “How about we get some sleep and go out for breakfast in the morning after getting some stuff from your place.”
     “I’d like that.”
     “Come on,” Jeongin helped her up again
     “Can you… stay with me? maybe?” Y/n asked
     “Yeah.”
     Jeongin led her to his room and let her get the bed before him. Jeongin climbed into the bed behind her and wrapped an arm around her, laying his hand on her growing stomach. Y/n smiled to herself as she laid her hand over his and closed her eyes.
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gxtfictx · 2 days
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are you in?
summary: compilation of short blurbs of your's and Emily's relationship before the team knew. Some based on actual chapters. it's just basically how you managed to keep it a secret TW: I fucked up the show's timeline so try to forget all you know about it, "only one bed" but reverse (it may be shit lol), suggestive content, i think that's it A/N: Writing this one has been a pain in the ass because every time i edited it i'd loose the changes so there are parts that i don't actually like at all but here it is nonetheless. As always: English isn't my first language. Reviews are appreciated. Like and reblog <3
˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ new blouse?
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A near death experience really deserves some kind of celebration
and you suppose a near-job loss experience does too
a week had passed after Emily and Hotch had rejoined the team on that case on Milwaukee, and Emily's head injury was almost just another scar, so when Morgan had asked you if you wanted to go out for drinks, you had looked at your girlfriend and said:"yeah, wny not"
and there you were, sitting at a table right next to Penelope, waiting for your girlfriend to bring all your drinks, and overhearing a conversation she was having with Hayley and Hotch, who seemed very relieved to have the night for themselves. You were supposed to be a part of that conversation, but you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to listen.
All your focus was deposited on your girlfriend, she had her arms rested on the counter trying to get the waiter's attention, a pair of dark jeans accentuated her figure, and all you could think about was getting home and ripping that blouse off of her.
You would have to settle for just staring, for now. Emily turns around to take a look at your table and catches you starring, you blush instantly, but she just smiles and gives you a wink, which makes you smile too, and suddenly your taken out of the trance by a voice.
"y/n are you listening to me?" Penelope says trying to grab your attention
"sorry, yes, what is it?" she looks at you suspiciously, as if with just her eyes she could decipher what was going on inside your head. She can't go on because Emily comes back with all your drinks, leaving them on the table and sitting next to you , maybe just a little bit too close but you could not complain.
She simply joins the conversation like it was nothing, meanwhile you sip on your drink hopeful that the alcohol will help you take your girlfriend away from your mind. However, Emily has different plans for you, as she rests her hand on you thigh behind the table so no one can see, dangerously high, she can't be bothered at all, she just keeps talking to Hotch as if nothing was going on, but all you can think about is her.
Morgan, who had spent a good hour on the dance floor, collecting girl's phone numbers, comes around, he grabs Penelope's hand to take her to the dance floor with him.
She shoots from her sit, swinging her hips to the rhythm of the music, Morgan guides her, a huge smile on his face as he pulls her to dance with him.
To everyone’s surprise Hotch pulls Hayley to dance with him as well, and just like that, in a matter of seconds, Emily and you are left alone.
When you turn your head to look at her, she places her face closer to yours, dangerously close, you’d say, but you can’t bring yourself to separate.
“Are you having fun baby?” She asks, a soft smile on her lips “yes, but it’s getting hard not to touch you” she smiles, her face closer now you can almost feel her lips brushing against yours. Her hand, which was still on your leg, starts caressing your thigh, setting progressively higher. You’re starting to lean into the contact when you suddenly remember where you are. Anyone who looked at you right now could see the whole scene.
“Em, stop” you say, drawing her hand away from your leg and separating your face form hers “they’re gonna see”
“Ok, yeah, sorry” she says, fake regret on her face as she takes another sip of her drink
“So, I caught you staring at me before, what was it that was so interesting?” She says like it’s the most innocent question ever, but you just know she wants to bother you a bit more. You would never admit how much you love it.
You check no one is looking at you. Both Hayley and Hotch are in their own little world, and Morgan and Penelope are too focused on each other to care. So you lean into her to whisper in her ear
“I was thinking how hot my girlfriend looks and how much I want to rip that blouse off of her” she chuckles and you go for another sip
“Thank you, it’s new” she says louder, like you just asked her the most simple question about her clothes
She leans into your ear this time, with the softest, sexiest voice she just whispers, the feeling of her breath on your ear is suffocating now
“I would love to let you take it off however you want. Do you want to go?” She asks, you eagerly nod your head, begging her with your eyes to take you home right now.
“C’mon, I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well and I’m driving you home” she smiles at you and winks, you follow her to the back of the bar where JJ and Spence are, to let them know you’re leaving.
For your surprise, JJ walks up to you too.
“We have a case” she just says, and you look at each other with disappointment.
Looks like Emily’s blouse was staying on for now.
𖨆♡𖨆 3x03 scared to death
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It had been a weird morning.
You woke up with a headache. After your last case you had arrived at Emily’s apartment, and parked your car outside so you could get to work on different cars the next day.
You were thinking about having a calm night. A bottle of wine, a movie, Chinese takeout, falling asleep early enough so you wouldn’t be so tired the next day, all that.
Little did you know Emily had some things in mind for you.
The first glass of wine was alright, you were barely feeling it, but after that one another 3 followed, you came up with this stupid game of drinking every time the movie had a cringe scene, and lucky for you the movie was really bad. You would sometimes forget that particular wine affected your girlfriend to a certain level, so one thing leading to another you had fallen asleep at more or less 4am.
Next day you wake up to a very loud phone call. You turn around confused by the phone ringing, but you’re not sure where exactly it’s coming from. It had flown away yesterday night along with your clothes and had landed on the bedroom floor.
Emily's arm was wrapped around your waist, your leg on top of hers, you were both just a mess of sheets and naked bodies. You get out of bed, waking your girlfriend up, who lets out an angry groan.
You finally find the phone behind Emily's pants, JJ's name appearing on the screen. "Hello?" you answer "Hey, we have a case, I can't reach Emily, and you're both late, do you know where she could be?" she asks. You check the time
8:15am
Shit
shitshitshitshitfuckfuckfuck
"yeah, I'm sorry, ugh... i don't know where Emily is, i had a problem with my....kitchen sink...but i'll be there as son as i can ok? bye JJ" you don't even wait for her to answer, you just hang up the phone and run to wake Emily up.
"Em! Baby wake up its 8am we're late!" she finally opens her eyes, her somnolent face tries to decipher what you just said. Her body starts moving first, siting upright.
"JJ just called, we have a case, you have to call her back, tell her there's traffic or something, I'll leave first ok?" you run around, trying to find something wearable. You already had your own drawer at her place for times like this.
You fly around the apartment checking you have everything with you, car keys, purse, phone... You walk up to Emily, still getting dressed, only a pair of pants on and her bra, she’s looking around for something to wear with the pants.
You grab her waist, pulling her in for a kiss “I’ll see you there ok?” You tell her. She smiles at you, then grins, still half a sleep, and you leave.
You weren’t exactly sure if it had been the wine, or the 4 hours of sleep, but you were hoping the meds you had taken with your breakfast (a coffee) would start acting quickly, because your headache was starting to get unbearable.
Sitting on the round table, you revise the file with the case, when Emily arrives, excusing for being late, but Hotch hasn’t even arrived yet and we hadn’t started, so she’s technically still on time.
As soon as you look up to catch a glimpse of her, your headache magically disappears. You regret it immediately because now she’s all you can think about.
It’s ridiculous, you spent hours last night with each other, hell, you spent all day with her! You should’ve had enough of her by now! But how could you when she was wearing that red tank top?
You stare at every movement she makes, taking her jacket off, uncovering her slightly muscular arms, you cannot physically take your eyes off of her, following her every move. Red was definitely her color, there was no argument about that. You could not focus on the case anymore.
After the usual “wheels up in 30” they all leave the room, but you grab your girlfriends arm last second, trying to keep her from leaving. “Em wait a second” You’re both left alone, looking to see if there’s anyone left in the room, everyone has left and far from you two.
"What is it?" she asks
You feel the need to whisper although there's no one in the room anymore "You look so good in this I'm genuinely considering going down on you now" you say tugging the red fabric between your fingers. She smiles widely, getting closer to your face.
You aren't sure where this renewed confidence is coming from, it's just that Emily made you feel like that sometimes.
"was yesterday not enough?" she says in a teasing voice, but you can tell she's feeling just like you. Her face mere inches from yours, you are almost begging her for some action.
"we still have 30 minutes" she twirls her head as if asking you, and you nod, unable to form any words
"ok you go first, I'll meet you down" you're already crossing the door when you turn around, check for anyone who could see you, but there's no one even close to your vicinity.
You rush back, giving Emily a peck on her lips, and separating to go run downstairs.
˚☽˚。⋆ Can I join?
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It's almost time. You can even taste it.
A free night. It's been some time since you got one of those.
You could even see it. A wine glass, your big ass bathtub, a dozen candles, some exotic scented bath products and your wonderful girlfriend.
You look across the room for her, she's working on some files still. You could say she literally feels your eyes on her, because she turns around and catches you staring at her, smiling warmly at you and winking, which makes you instantly blush.
"Any plans for the night, Prentiss?" Morgan asks her coming by her desk, you're already walking up to them so you don't miss a thing from their conversation.
"yes. I got a date" she just says like it was nothing.
A weird sensation runs through your body, a mix between jealousy and excitement. You obviously knew you were the date, but the jealousy came mostly from the fact that she could not mention it was in fact you.
"really? who's the lucky one?" Morgan asks rising his eyebrows
"hot tub" she answers like nothing, just playing it cool, but the grin on her face suggests she has been picturing your night just like you had.
"oh, that sounds like a party" he teases, but she doesn't lose a single second on it "you're so not invited"
"am i?" you come from nowhere, you are right behind Emily, who turns around, holding back a smile, she gives in the game, after all, this is the perfect way to make them not suspect a thing.
"now you, i could consider it" she answers, and you lower your head, smiling to the floor so no one sees it.
"Now that sounds like a better party" he mutters.
.•°•.•. .•.•°•.
The soft bathrobe hugs your body keeping it warm, a wine glass in your hand, resting your back against the sink, you wait as your girlfriend finishes the bath.
The whole scene is idyllic, candles lit all around, low warm light illuminating the stance, Emily's black hair falling on her shoulders, her robe barely closed, she lights the last two candles, and checks the water temperature before walking up to you
"ready?" she asks sweetly, untying the knot in your robe, she takes off hers and gets in first, giving you a hand to help you get in, yourself.
You lay back, resting your back against her, relaxing immediately into her touch. White bubbles around both your bodies. She kisses your neck from the back. Breathing out, you groan at the feeling, she caresses the skin of your ams with her fingertips, gently.
"do you think Morgan can even begin to imagine this?" you ask her, she stops her ministrations to answer you
"i really hope he doesn't, but teasing him is fun" you chuckle
"well, imagine how we'll blow out his mind when we tell him" you begin wondering. She kisses the sensitive skin on the curve of your neck, nipping at the skin, you close you eyes leaning on the contact.
"are you thinking about it?" she stops to ask
"Morgan? hell no" she chuckles
"i mean about telling Morgan" you turn around to look at her, making a bit of water overflowing the tub
"well, yeah, I mean, I think about telling all of them" she twists her head trying to understand
"not now though! Not yet... at all" you can see her relaxing instantly, a smile begining to form on her lips
"Em, this past months have been...amazing, and i want to keep that for ourselves just a little bit more... also the sneaking around is very fun" you both laugh in agreement "but?" she asks waiting for you to add something more
"but, that doesn't mean I'm not excited for our friends to know, you know? I mean, going out together and actually kissing, dancing together, to be able to say we are, well, together tonight... basically just doing it all together" her big brown eyes linger on to you, she's full smiling now, you know she feels the same, but she just wouldn't be the one to tell you.
"i love you" she mutters, you smile, holding to her shoulders for support, warm drops of water running down your arms, you kiss her gently in approval.
"well, i say let's enjoy the meantime then" her hands fly to your waist to hold you, and you kiss her deeply again.
𓇢𓆸 Care to share?
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Hotch had decided to call it a day, it was too late, and you all knew how difficult it could be to function when you don't get enough sleep.
You had't had time to check in earlier at the hotel, so when you got there and saw it, you knew that wood creaked like shit.
You had expected nothing less, being in a cold state, the hotel reception had a big fireplace which kept the ambience cozy and warm, the wooden planks creaked behind your feet even behind the thick carpet.
Hotch turns to us, with the room keys in his hands "I'm sorry but this is a small village, this was the only place that still had spare rooms, and they're all packed up this week so some of us will have to share" he says.
"how many?" Morgan asks concerned "two double, three single rooms" Hotch says
"well I'm not sharing with pretty boy here" he complains
"Dave and i can share one" he says "Well, y/n and I also don't mind sharing" Emily rushes to say. You walk up to her "right?" she asks as if she needed to make sure "yeah of course, no problem" you say, smiling at her. Her quick willfulness to share with you and you eager reaction winning you a suspicious look from JJ, but you couldn't bring yourself to care, because tonight none of you would have to sneak out, waiting till it's late enough for the rest to have fallen asleep, you wouldn't have to wake up early to get back to your room, you had your place tonight.
"alright, thank you" you think it's funny, you should be the one thanking Hotch, not the other way around. You grab your key and Emily follows you upstaris.
.•°•.•. .•.•°•.
You can tell the place is old just by the keys, it's an inn more than a hotel. You turn the key in the lock, opening the door partially, when you feel Emily's hands on your waist, grabbing it, you close your eyes as soon as you feel her lips on yours, and she kisses you deeply, possessively.
You surround her body with your arms for support, leaning into the kiss, closing the door behind you with your foot. Tugging your hands on her hair, you surrender to the connection and just give in, not caring who could've caught you mere seconds ago on the hallway.
She pushes you agains the door, her hands finding the way behind your shirt, touching you everywhere, she moves to kiss the corner of your lips, your cheek, the skin behind your ear, leaving a trail of wet warm kisses, finding your pulse point you let out a needy whimper in approval.
"you think JJ knows?" you ask breathlessly "she suspects something, but she can't technically prove it" her lips brushing your neck with every word, her soft breath warm on your skin.
"Well, she should start paying more attenti-" your mouth falls open. It was the first time you had tken a good look at the room since you entered "Em, look" you say trying to stop her ministrations much to your distaste to make her look around.
Emily turns around and takes a look at the room. You should've guessed this would've happened. Hotch would never slept in the same bed as Rossi, and you shouldn't have to do that ether, right?
"Two beds?" she says, in awe. "what do you suggest?" she asks
"should we join them?" you try "we'll end up falling through the middle" she says "ok, then. You chose"
Next day you wake up completely wrapped around Emily, your nose buried in her neck, inhaling her scent, you were almost thankful for the small size of that bed.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
A/N: this one took me a long ass time to finish so i hope its not shit. Like & reblog, any feedback is greatly appreciated. Also I'm open to requests because I'm almost out of ideas
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penelopepine · 1 day
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Don't be a stranger! Pt. 2
Part 1 Part 2
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader
Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship
"If you're going to insist on making dinner for the both of us I might as well pay for the groceries." Simon was standing next to your door waiting for you to finish getting ready. You had asked him this morning what he wanted for dinner as you were going to the store after work and could get anything he wanted.
"Me making dinner for you is supposed to be a thank you for helping me Simon. I love that you're joining me, but I'm not going to let you pay."
"We'll see."
You finally walk out of your bedroom towards Simon, "Your job on this trip is going to be pushing the cart and looking pretty. I'm going to be grabbing everything and paying." Giving Simon a playful glare as the two of you makes your way out the door.
Pretty?
Do you really think he looks pretty? 
-
Simon hated grocery shopping; he has always felt that it was a waste of time, far too many people walking around, and the lights in here were almost blinding. He’s not happy to be here, but he also wasn’t going to let you continue to let you do all this work and not help in some way. 
At the very least shopping with you did make the experience more enjoyable. All he had to do was follow you. Letting you take control of where they went and did was strangely freeing from his usual day to day. Plus getting to just watch and listen to you ramble about your day was not something he was going to give up now that he’s here. 
"You know you still haven't told me what you wanted. I've been making my favorites every time you come over; it's your turn now to decide the menu." 
"I've been living off military mess hall food for most of my life. Anything you make is going to be a favorite of mine, love."
"How about you tell me at least one thing you want?" 
"Anything I want?"
"Anything!" 
You. 
That is the answer Simon wants to say, but he knows he can't, "I like shepherd’s pie.” 
“Shepherd’s pie it is!” You say, giving him a wide grin. 
The rest of the shopping is mostly uneventful. It isn't until the two of you were at the end of your grocery list did you seem to realize something was missing. 
“Oh, meet me at the front! I forgot to add apples to the list; I’ll go grab it real quick.” 
Before Simon could even disagree and say he’d just go with you; your figure was already speeding away from him. Slowly he made his way to the front of the store out of the way of others to wait. It wasn’t until eight minutes later when he saw no sign of you that he started to worry. 
It took all but a moment to find you, and he was not pleased with what he saw when he did. A man was standing far too close to you. The uncomfortable look on your face only served in sealing the man’s fate. 
Neither of you seemed to notice as he walked closer, but he was able to finally hear your conversation now. 
“-on, just one date. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” 
"My boyfriend is waiting for me; you need to leave me alone." You try to step around him, but the man is quick to side step in front of you and makes a move to grab you. Simon would happily beat the man into the ground, but he doesn’t want to frighten you. So he does the next best thing which is to rail the man with the cart. 
With a loud grunt the man falls onto the ground holding his side in pain. 
“She said to leave her alone. So why don’t you crawl away now like the worm you are.” Simon snarls down at him. Moving the cart and himself to stand between you and the man. 
"What the fuck man!" 
"I'll give you five seconds to get out of here." Simon wasn't about to have a pointless back and forth with this guy. The only thing he cared about right now was getting him away from you.
He stands slowly and glares in your direction before practically running away from Simon and you.
As soon as his figure disappears from sight Simon turns to you and gently grips your shoulder; tucking you into his side as he guides you back to the front of the store.
"Thank you for doing that; you didn't have to but I really appreciate it." 
"It's no problem," Simon continued his hold on your shoulder; not wanting to yet let go of you, "If anyone messes with you send them my way. I'll deal with them." 
You give him a smile in return. "That was honestly really funny by the way; hitting him with the cart." 
"I would have ran him over with it, but I didn’t want you having to find a new grocery store because I got the two of us banned." 
You laugh at his words and it makes his chest feel tight. He almost wants to record it just so that he could take it with him anywhere he goes. 
"C'mon, let's get out of here before they change their minds then!" 
Simon had of course won in the end when it came to who was going to be paying. He knew he would, but you still put in a good fight to beat him to it. He’d let you win in a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them. 
-
It wasn’t until the two of you were sitting in your flat after eating did you seem to notice that he had been acting more reserved than he normally would be. Of course you weren’t about to just let him stew in thoughts for long once you caught on to it. 
“What’s wrong Simon? You’re acting a lot broodier tonight.” 
“I’m leaving soon; next week.” There was no point in lying to you; Simon had gotten the call from Price just a couple of days ago. He had been wondering how he was going to break the news to you. 
“Leaving? So soon; do you know when you’ll be back?”
No he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you again. For all he knows the day he leaves could be the last day the two of you ever see each other again. “No, but I’ll see what I can do to come back soon.” 
“You better,” You give him a soft elbow jab to the side, “I’m gonna miss you y'know. I’ve gotten so used to having you around these past few weeks.” 
He had as well, almost regrettably so. Your presence in his life had done something to him that he’d never be able to undo. Simon wasn’t sure how he was going to feel not being able to see you. The daily morning walks, evening dinners, and weekend hangouts had quickly become a staple in his life. 
For now though the only thing he wanted to do was live in the moment. He didn’t have to say goodbye right now and he wasn’t going to act like he did while he was with you. That time would come later.
Taglist:
@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving
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the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt;five nights at freddy's
word count: 2144
request?: no
description: in which his regular ice cream spot in the mall hires a new girl
pairing: mike schmidt x female!reader
warnings: use of y/n
masterlist (one, two, three)
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Mike's routine at the mall was a constant: clock in, do two laps around the mall, go for lunch with whoever else was on with him - usually Jeremiah - another few laps around the mall where he'd stop to talk to some of the store managers, then clock out and go home. The only deviations to his routine were the occasional birthday parties he'd be tasked with watching over, and whenever there was someone who needed to be handled by security.
Until he met a new worker at the mall.
He was in line for the ice cream place he would occasionally go to for a dessert after his lunch. They saw him so frequently that his order was usually ready before he even got to the counter - another usual in his routine.
But on this day, when he walked up to the counter, a new face was smiling at him.
"Welcome to Ice Cream Parties," she said. "What can I get for you?"
Mike opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Cindy, one of the usual workers, saying, "We have his order, (Y/N). He's a regular."
(Y/N)'s eyes flickered to Mike's security uniform. "Well, that does make sense. Sorry, today's my first day."
"No, that's alright," Mike said. He desperately tried to think of something else to say, but found himself staring blankly at her instead. He was sure she thought he was crazy, and that thought made his face start to heat up.
Cindy came up to the counter with Mike's usual in hand. She passed it over to him with a smile before going back to work. Mike realized then that he hadn't paid yet. As he started taking his wallet from his pocket, (Y/N) said, "On the house."
"Are you sure?" Mike asked.
She nodded. "Consider it a kind gesture for a regular."
"Well...thanks."
"No problem. It's nice to meet you, Mike."
He was about to ask how she knew his name, but she nodded to his name tag before he could.
Right, that would make sense.
"Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N)."
After that, visits to Ice Cream Parties became part of Mike's routine. The first few visits were under the guise of actually getting ice cream for himself and Jeremiah. If it wasn't too busy, he was able to have brief conversations with (Y/N) while his order was being made. That excuse didn't last very long, though, as eventually Jeremiah put an end to the almost daily ice cream runs.
"Man, I'm going to gain like 10 pounds a week if you keep getting ice cream for us," he had said.
Mike had to admit, he was getting sick of eating ice cream so much, too. Seeing (Y/N) so often had made it worth it at first, but there was only so much of the frozen treat he could take before it became too much. He thought he'd have to come up with a new excuse to see her all the time, but she took him by surprise by doing it for him.
He was doing his rounds during a shift when he saw (Y/N) walking towards him. She had a smile on her face and she waved when he spotted her.
"Hey!" she said. "I've been looking for you?"
"You have?" Mike asked.
"Yeah! I haven't seen you in a bit. I was worried you quit or something."
"God, no, that's not happening. This is probably the easiest job I could have. I've just...been taking a break from ice cream."
"I don't blame you. You've had so much of it lately, I'm surprised you're not just a walking ice cream cone at this point." She playfully bumped his shoulder as she added, "You know, if you wanted to talk to me, you didn't need an excuse."
Mike was shocked into silence. Had it really been that obvious? He had tried to play it cool when he went, but maybe he hadn't been cool enough. Maybe it had been glaringly obvious every time he walked up to the counter and ordered whatever new flavor she recommended that he was desperately trying to figure out a way to ask her on a date.
But then she smiled and laughed, and Mike felt a weight being lifted from his chest.
"I'm joking," she said. "Mostly. If you wanna talk to me, you don't need to come buy ice cream. Just come talk to me."
"Noted," Mike said with a nod. "Well...what are you doing this evening?"
"I'm working the closing shift."
Mike tried not to let his disappointment show. "Oh. I, uh, I'm off in about an hour."
"I clock in in about an hour."
"Not meant to be, I guess."
(Y/N) shrugged. "I guess not. I have to run a quick errand before work, but I mean what I said - don't be a stranger, Mike."
Mike nodded. Once (Y/N) had turned and walked away, he let himself deflate. It wasn't a "no" because she wasn't interested, but it was still disheartening. It was definitely going to take time to build up his courage to ask her again, but at least now he knew she welcomed his company.
A week or so later, Mike found himself at the mall again on his day off. He usually hated to be there when he wasn't working, but Abby started school the next week and she needed new clothes. She had been begging him for weeks to take her shopping, but he kept putting it off until he had no choice but to take her. On the plus side, Abby was extremely easy to shop with because she knew what she wanted, and she knew where to get it. It would be a quick in and out and he could be away from the mall within an hour and a half tops.
But, after leaving Abby's favorite store with the intent on going home, Abby stopped Mike and said, "I'm hungry."
"We have food at home," he reminded her.
"I don't want actual food. I want a snack."
"We have snacks at home."
"We don't have ice cream at home."
That was enough to shut him up and get him to agree. He had no idea if (Y/N) was working that day, but he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see her.
As luck would have it, she was working. She was at the counter in her stripped apron and white paper hat. She was passing the customer in front of them an ice cream, her customer service smile plastered on her face. Mike had come to learn the difference between her customer service smile and her real smile, because when she would look at him the dull smile would brighten just a little.
When the customer stepped away, he got to see her face light up at the sight of him.
"Oh, hey Mike!" she said. "I thought you were off today."
"I am. I had to take my sister back to school shopping," Mike said, gesturing to Abby.
(Y/N) looked down at Abby and offered her a warm smile. "Well hey there. I had no idea Mike had a sister."
"This is Abby. Abby, this is (Y/N)."
"It's nice to meet you, Abby."
"You too," Abby said. To Mike she added, "Is she the one you always talk to Max about?"
Mike's ears were on fire as (Y/N) looked back up at him. Abby always knew how to say the right things to embarrass him.
"Just tell her what you want," he muttered, suddenly no longer in the mood for ice cream.
Abby ordered for herself and (Y/N) went to make it. Cindy took over at the cash while (Y/N) stepped away, which disappointed Mike. Usually Cindy was the one making the orders while (Y/N) was at the cash, and they'd have their small conversations while Mike waited. He really hoped what Abby had said hadn't scared (Y/N) off completely.
She came back and handed Abby her ice cream.
"Are you guys sticking around much longer?" she asked Mike.
"We weren't really planning on it. Abby just wanted ice cream before we went home."
"I'm off in, like, 10 minutes. If you guys don't mind a third, I mean."
Mike agreed without consulting Abby. Not like the younger girl really cared either way. She was already deep into her ice cream and ignoring the whole conversation.
Mike and Abby sat at a nearby table to wait for (Y/N). Abby finished her ice cream in record time, giving herself a brain freeze. Mike couldn't help but laugh as his sister scrunched up her face in pain.
"That's why you don't eat cold foods that fast," he said.
"Do you like (Y/N)?" Abby asked through the brain freeze pain.
The quick change in topic startled Mike. "I mean...yeah. She's my friend."
"But you like her," Abby said. "You always talk about her, and I saw the way you look at her."
Mike shrugged, trying not to give Abby any other ideas. He didn't need her blurting something else out and embarrassing him again. "She's a friend, Abby. Friends talk about friends."
"Friends don't look at other friends like they want to kiss them, though."
Mike chuckled. "Some do."
Abby gave him a look. He sighed and said, "Maybe I do, but that doesn't give you permission to say stuff to her about it, okay? For now, we're just friends."
"You should ask her out. I think she'd say yes."
"It's not that easy, Abs."
"What's not that easy?"
Mike jumped at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice behind him. When he looked at her, she was already changed out of her work uniform. "Nothing. Abby and I were just talking."
He shot Abby a look to tell her not to say anything. (Y/N) looked between the two of them with a skeptical look on her face.
"Do you have a ride home?" Mike asked.
"If you're offering, then yes. I was supposed to wait around for my roommate to get me, but I'd much rather hang out with you guys and get out of here."
The three of them walked to Mike's car. Abby filled most of the silence by talking to (Y/N) about whatever came to her little mind. (Y/N) just smiled and responded as Abby spoke. Mike would sneak glances at her and smile to himself.
Abby got into the car first, and as Mike was reaching for the door handle to get in himself, (Y/N) said, "Wait."
He paused and looked up at her, confused.
"Why haven't you asked me out yet, Mike?"
The question took him completely by surprise, but that seemed to be her specialty at this point. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was some stuttered nonsense.
"I mean, if you don't like me then that's fine, I get it," she continued. "But I thought that maybe we had a connection, and I keep thinking you're going to ask me out and then you don't, and I'll be honest, I'm losing my mind a little bit."
"Whoa, whoa," Mike said. "Slow down. I'm sorry that's how you're feeling, but I've been trying to ask you out. I did ask you out a few weeks ago!"
"That wasn't asking me out! You asked what I was doing and I said working. You didn't even follow up to try and figure out a different day we could've went out instead!"
"I didn't know I was supposed to do that!"
They both paused and, after a moment, they started to laugh.
"I'm clueless with this stuff," Mike admitted. "I haven't dated since high school."
"Well, here's a tip: if you like a girl, ask her out. Her liking you back is more likely than you'd think."
Mike smiled. "Do you want to come over for dinner? I'm sure it's not exactly the date you're thinking of, but Abby wants spaghetti and meatballs tonight, and I do make a mean spaghetti and meatballs."
(Y/N) smiled back. It was brighter than her real smile. It was what Mike decided to dub her "Mike smile".
"I'd love to," she said. "I love spaghetti and meatballs."
Abby opened her car door then and looked between the two of them. "What's taking you so long?"
"Hey Abs, would it be okay if (Y/N) joined us for dinner?" Mike asked, although he already knew the answer.
Abby lit up with excitement and vigorously nodded her head. Mike and (Y/N) finally got into the car and they made their way back to Mike's place. The entire car ride he couldn't wipe the smile from his face.
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feluka · 2 days
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Hi, I don’t rlly know how to explain this but I’ll try haha.
I recently found out I have Egyptian and specifically Coptic ancestry, through family tree making, matching with cousins, gedmatch, dna testing, etc and now personal confirmation from family/ancestors.
The problem is idrk who was the Coptic ones in my family as my dad died when I was four and I’ve had no contact with his family at all since. I know it came from his mother, but I can’t even give you her name let alone where she was from, or anything. Although I want to learn more and reconnect and eventually find out who they were exactly. It’s just hard because my dad’s living family has no contact w us and since he’s dead, it’s been hard to get records as well.
I would like to learn more about Coptic culture and Egypt in general but I am worried about people considering me a ‘culture thief’ since I only recently. found this out a few months ago but didn’t really have 100% confirmation until like 2 weeks ago. And even though I can prove genetically I have ancestry Coptic I can’t really say who my ancestors were which would probably make some skeptical.
Especially because I am African American and there already exists a rift between Egyptians and AAs bc of hoteps who claim Egyptian culture/claim Egyptians are just Arabs who ‘stole’ Egyptian culture. I want to be respectful but I’m unsure how to navigate this.
I guess I’m asking if you have any idea how I should move forward, or if you know of any resources to learn more? I want to be respectful, but I would also love to start to reconnect even if I don’t know where my ancestors were exactly from other than ‘Egypt’.
Hello! First of all, this is both a very respectful and a very personal ask, so I want to thank you for trusting me with that. I hope my answer can help you find peace with the matter a little.
Instead of trying to figure out if the overall sentiment of trying to reconnect is harmful or not, because there's really no answer to that in and of itself, and instead stop at every individual action taken to reconnect and asking: could this be harming anybody?
For example, if you'd like to pick up Coptic language lessons, could this action possibly be harmful to anyone? Not really. Is reading about Coptic culture and engaging with what survived of it in modern day harmful? I don't think so.
The only possible thing that I can think of that might be harmful is, I have awful experiences with certain diaspora Copts who have never really engaged with the community nor know much of it, who suddenly butt in conversations about Coptic politics in Egypt like they're an expert on it despite never having been or known anything about it themselves, but from the way you've written this ask I doubt you're the kind of person to do that anyway, seeing as you're being very respectful and that you recognize that there's some dissonance in your experience (which there's no shame in, but the self awareness is helpful as a guide of when to participate and when not to!)
I don't know if I said this before on this blog but, to my knowledge, the matter of the hotep subculture entails far more than just questioning the Egyptian identity, and seeing as I'm neither African American nor Black at all, I don't think it's my place to comment on it. I invite any of my Black followers to contribue to intra-community discussion in the reblogs/comments for you to read, though!
All I can promise you is that even if the notion that the population of Egypt was displaced rather than converted during the Arab conquest of Egypt is false, there still are Black Egyptians and there always have been. Sadly I'm sure there will always be people who try to make you feel like a pretender, but that is true of so many things and regardless of what you do, so always remember thay Black people have always been part of Egypt's history, and that nobody is entitled to know your personal details or family history and you don't need to disclose anything you're not comfortable with to prove anything to them.
As for resources, there's always a lot on Egyptology in general, so the specific topics that would be helpful to be aware of are: modern history of Copts (or Copts post the Arab Conquest of Egypt), the persecution of Copts, the decline of the Coptic language and the efforts to revive the language. The last two are especially pertinent nowadays.
Lastly you can always ask other Copts! I may not have all the answers but I'm sure between me and my followers we can find something helpful for you if you're trying to find a specific resource of have more questions. (The scarcity of resources is something we *all* have to deal with, even us here in Egypt, I'm afraid, but it's not a lost cause! You'd be surprised how much is out there on internet archives.)
I hope you have a lovely day. ♥️
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undead-supernova · 3 hours
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Masterlist / 18+
Part 1 - Boring
pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader
plot: eddie runs into you unexpectedly and you think it's time to have that date a little early
contains: eddie lacking confidence, confident!reader/dom!reader, get to know Eddie and the reader a little better, making out, kids this is a bit more than pg-13 I'll tell you that much without spoiling it
note: sorry guys, I'm not done with this. maybe far from it. they have a dynamic unlike any other and I'm here for it.
wc: 4k
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The library was maybe the last place Eddie wanted to be at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday. It was always overcrowded, riddled with students running around with coffee from the adjoining Starbucks. 
But Eddie needed a new book, having told himself that rereading The Hobbit the third time this semester was…unnecessary. Plus, his English professor told him that “we can only enact change ourselves.” 
Maybe it was a sign. Because as Eddie passed the large glass windows, he saw you sitting at one of the booths.
You looked different from every Saturday night. No makeup, hardly any jewelry except for a thin gold necklace and several rings. An oversized t-shirt and, from his vantage point, you were wearing a pleated skirt. He even noticed that your high-top Converse were placed next to you, mismatched patterned socks adorning your feet. 
And, fuck, Eddie couldn’t help the excitement rising inside him. It should’ve embarrassed him when he started jogging towards the front door, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. All he could think about was the sound of your voice and your eyes and your touch and your kiss.
He slowed his pace as he walked past the printers and computers and found your head down in some textbook, blissfully unaware.
“Working hard or hardly working?” he asked.
And when you looked up and smiled, he could’ve sworn his heart swelled and burst like a goddamn balloon.
“Oh my gosh, hi!” you exclaimed, jumping up to give him a hug. “What the fuck are you doing here!”
It was only for a few seconds, but he couldn’t resist breathing in your intoxicating perfume and memorizing the feel of you. The curve of your back, the soft fabric of your sweatshirt scratching against his calloused fingertips.
And as you sat back down, he realized quickly why your mere touch was so alluring. It was a reminder that Saturday had been real and, on this grueling Tuesday, you still cared about his existence. You still noticed him.
“I was coming to look for something new to read,” he answered, trying to figure out what to do with his hands and failing. “What about you?”
Eddie couldn’t decipher your now raised eyebrow, watching as you lifted your pointer finger. “Sit down,” you nearly demanded, eyes flickering from him to the booth. His heart hammered in his chest as he complied, eyeing your finger following his movements. 
It was despicable how easy it was for you to get him to do whatever you wanted. Even just fucking sitting down. But he loved it. Every. Fucking. Second.
“I was in the stacks looking at the archives,” you explained. “But everyone in my class took them already.” You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Such bitches.”
“How rude,” Eddie said, all teasing with an amused smile.
He could tell you liked it, biting your lip slightly before playing along. “I know, it’s offensive.”
There was something he noticed in your expression, placing your lip back between your teeth as you scanned him up and down. Eddie was unable to keep a smile off his face, overwhelmed by the attention you gave him. Like he was a meal, but something to be savored rather than merely devoured.
He couldn’t help it when he returned the sentiment, glancing down at your skirt that was riding further and further up your thighs. It wasn’t the time to think about you like that, spread wide for him as he got on all fours. Having you barking commands at him to do it properly, rewarding him with endless praise once you deemed it good enough.
Your thighs parted just a bit more, head tilting to the side as you gave him a smirk. As if you knew exactly where his thoughts were and wanted him to keep going. And, wow, were you two really just eye-fucking each other in the library?
“Want some coffee?” he asked, trying to distract himself. Practically flinching, pulling himself back from the table. “I was gonna head to Starbucks afterwards.”
The sexual tension broke at the question and he watched as you fiddled with your pen. But you didn’t flounder like he did. He wondered if you ever could. 
“Yeah, I’d love to. I have to finish something up but—”
“Oh, I’ll go by myself,” he offered.
“You sure?” you asked, clearly surprised.
“Yeah, no biggie,” he assured you, standing up.
Expression turning a bit sheepish, you said, “I will warn you… My order is complicated.”
He shrugged. “Hit me.”
And the order wasn’t complicated, per se. Eddie just wanted to know how the hell had you come up with a “dirty iced chai with oat milk and two pumps of cinnamon dolce”. Regardless, Eddie tucked that into his Notes app for later. If there was a later.
After grabbing himself a large black coffee and the concoction you'd asked for, he made his way back over to you. Rounding the corner, he noticed the way you moved back and forth between a book and your laptop, sighing and mumbling something to yourself. But as if you could sense him, you turned and watched him approach, a smile appearing on your lips.
“Oh, a Venti, huh?” you teased, making grabbing motions at him anyways.
He shrugged, sitting back down. “You deserve it.”
“You know what? You’re right.” You took it from his hand, taking a long sip. “I hate Starbucks coffee,” you said, licking your lips. “It’s awful. But this is the best thing on the menu, so thank you.”
“Yeah, of course.” Eddie hoped you couldn’t see him blush. "I hate it, too. It's just the only thing we got." 
“God, I know. Also, I can Venmo you or—"
“Absolutely not,” he interrupted, waving you away. 
“Okay,” you conceded, not bothering to argue further. Just took another sip and sat back. Glanced out the window before back at him. “Wanna go on that date today?”
“Today?” he asked, nearly gobsmacked.
Nervousness ran along his limbs, not fully prepared to be with you. Alone. Just the two of you. It’d taken him hours to go to bed after dropping you off the other night. Any time he thought he was done masturbating, it just came with another round. Like a goddamn creep.
“Why not?”
“Aren’t you doing research?” he asked, feeling his face grow hot.
And if you noticed, you didn’t say anything about it.
“Oh my god, I would rather die than look at this shit any longer. I’ve been here since eight.” You paused before throwing a hand over your face. “Unless you’re busy. Sorry I didn’t ask first.”
“No, no. I’m free,” he lied, deciding at that moment to skip his class. He’d catch up on Algebra with his tutor—it’s not like he paid attention anyways. That damn tutor was the only reason he understood a fraction of it. Pun absolutely intended. 
And he swore you nearly jumped up, grabbing your shoes and shoving them on before packing up your backpack, the weight of it starting to look daunting. Book after book, plus your laptop and pencil case and…
Without thought, Eddie grabbed it for you, slinging it over his shoulder. Fuck, it was heavy. “Here, I got it.”
You stared up at him, clearly shocked. “Oh, you sure?”
But Eddie gave you a smile and gestured towards the window with his head. “Yeah, come on. I’ll drive.”
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By all accounts, Eddie was actually…sweet. It was nearly sickening how sweet he could be, carrying your backpack for you and opening the car door (despite it being a stalker van). Asking what music you liked to listen to—everything, was the answer. And you didn’t just like every genre, you loved it— Fiddling with the air conditioning and telling you to change it if you get too hot or too cold. Asking if his music was too loud, asking how you were doing now, away from your books.
You were starting to find him ridiculously intriguing, unsure how to take his kindness. It wasn’t a bad thing by any means. You just…weren’t used to a man being so considerate of your feelings. 
It wasn’t like you didn’t think you deserved it—that was obvious every time a man got a little too close for comfort and you had to humiliate them. 
But there was just something that felt new about Eddie. When he’d approached you at the party, you sized him up like every other guy shooting their shot. But he caught your eye immediately when he stumbled over his words. And when a jolt seized your veins at that first touch on his arm, you knew you were hooked. 
You’d gone to bed that night with a smile on your face, softly licking along your lips to savor the lingering taste of Eddie’s mouth. It was tinged with beer, something you used to hate. Something you now loved, thoughts echoing one word:
New.
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Eddie helped you out of the car once he’d parked, even insisting that you let him get it for you. It made you feel quite warm in the face, surprised by his assertion. Made you feel like a lady, something you hadn’t ever felt at the hands of a man.
As you moved through the museum, you were quiet, whispering now and then about certain art styles and their importance during their corresponding time periods. And you were glad that Eddie wasn’t a douchebag about noise level inside a museum.
He never interrupted, never poked fun at your intelligence. He’d even asked more questions, all hushed and contained, some even you didn’t know the answer to. Pocketing them for later to ask your professors. 
But Eddie rarely gave up any information about himself, leaving you to tap his foot with yours and ask him questions. Every time, his face got hot and he murmured responses with a shrug, as if he didn’t think it was anything special. 
How was it not? He was still undecided, having dreams of working on video games and helping direct the narratives in new and innovative ways to engage with the player more. You didn’t know much about video games, but you still listened. Still gave him the attention he’d given you. It wasn’t even hard—he was so animated once he got into something he was passionate about. It was endearing, actually.
You ended up sitting down on one of the benches together, staring at an abstract painting by an artist you’d never heard of. 
“Do you like abstract?” you asked him, whispering despite the empty room.
Eddie shrugged, eyes trained on the swirling colors. “I think so? I mean, it’s cool to look at. I just don’t really know what I’m looking for. Or what I’m looking at, for that matter.”
That brought a smile to your face. His statement wasn’t judgmental or dismissive. It was…pensive. Contemplative. 
“I think of it like music,” you said. “The different colors and movements are like different instruments. They’re all separate but they come together to make something magical.”
For emphasis, you leaned in closer to him, your face and shoulder fully pressed against him. Raised your arm to point at the sharp flicks of red hurling towards the top right of the canvas. You could’ve sworn you heard Eddie suck in a breath, having to suppress a smirk at the effect you had over him. 
“That’s like a trumpet, bright and loud. Furious in nature but soaring off the page.” Then you pointed toward the royal blue splatters, more round than some of the other scattered pigments. “And this is like, oh, I don’t know. I guess, a trombone. Low and sultry. Rounded. Keeping everything together.”
Eddie turned his head, your noses nearly touching. You couldn’t help the shiver running down your neck at the tickling sensation you got from his hair. A smile you hadn’t seen before enveloped his face as you made eye contact.
“So, you’re saying it’s like jazz.”
A breathy laugh left your lips, finding yourself intimidated by his pointed gaze. By the way you could study the rich brown in his eyes, all bright and energized despite his calm demeanor. The stubble rising from his pores, all scratchy and wicked. 
“Well, uh,” you murmured, surprised by your inability to form words. “It doesn’t have to be, but, um, I guess this one made me think of jazz. The way it kinda…” your voice trailed off as he seemingly leaned in further, his scent like smoke fogging your senses. “It’s not so rigid. It’s improv. It’s, um…”
“Varied?” he offered, his smile growing. “Unique?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
Eddie let out a hum. “I think I get it now.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s beautiful.”
For once, you had to look away, back at the painting to try and control your breathing. There were flashes of things you wanted to do, both tender and wildly too inappropriate for the setting. Things you wanted beyond physicality, beyond the limits you’d always set for yourself.
And as if he could hear the pounding of your heart, his fingertips touched yours. Slowly weaved his fingers through the spaces left open. Took a piece of your heart with him.
Eddie might not be exactly forward with his actions, but he knew what he wanted. All you could do was squeeze his hand and hope that one day you’d get to see him in full bloom. 
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“Why do you do that thing?” you asked.
Eddie glanced over at you, one hand on the steering wheel. The other fiddled with a hole in his pants, needing something to grasp onto. His heart rate just started to slow down, giving him a chance to breathe. 
There was just something about you that drove him mad.
“What thing?”
“Act like you’re not interesting.”
Sheepishly, Eddie shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. I guess it’s ‘cause you’re way more interesting than me.”
“Bullshit,” you said sternly, a scoff leaving your lips.
“What!” he exclaimed, looking over at you again. “It’s true.”
You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “You highly underestimate yourself.”
Eddie snorted. “I’m a stereotype.”
“Bullshit,” you repeated, starting to sound genuinely frustrated. “Who the hell told you that?”
He didn’t know where to start. 
Being a loser wasn’t a big deal for him in high school. Grew up with his father’s reputation preceding him. Got through it the best he could with some awesome friends along the way. Finally graduated high school and raised his GPA enough to come here. It was simple. In his mind, he was simple.
But spending the latter half of summer, the one he dared never to speak of, without his friends and then coming here without anyone else… Well, he struggled to find anyone willing to be his friend. He tried. Really, he did. But it never came to fruition.
And what was more embarrassing than joining a D&D club before being told he didn’t belong within the first hour? Him, the DM of Hawkins, hell, Indiana, being told he didn’t belong. That he didn’t play right. That he just didn’t fit.
He spent so much time alone. It was starting to make him miss Hawkins, the nostalgia starting to kick in. Hawkins, the place he loathed. The place he wanted nothing to do with. 
He was a nineteen-year-old Freshman with no friends and an undecided future.  
His silence must’ve lasted longer than he thought because you pointed at the nearly empty Walmart parking lot and asked, “Actually, would you pull in for a sec?”
“Yeah, of course,” he responded, heading towards the very back row, far from any remaining cars. Giving the two of you privacy just in case you started to yell at him for being a loser or something. He didn’t know. You were just so unpredictable.
But once he parked, you were unbuckling your seatbelt and grabbing his chin. Squished the bottom of his cheeks in one hand as you pulled his face closer to yours. He must’ve stopped breathing, hands slipping from the steering wheel.
“You better start listening to me, Eddie,” you breathed, all low and sensual, moving your lips to barely graze his bottom lip. “I really don’t like you talking about yourself like that.”
Eddie could feel sweat collecting beneath his bangs as you continued your torture, raking your fingernails down his throat before wrapping your hand around it. He gasped, earning a small smile out of you.
“I don’t waste my time with boring people, as conceited as that sounds,” you continued, the left corner of your mouth lifting. Eyes flickering between his eyes and his lips, eyelashes fluttering with each micromovement. “But I never claimed to be the nicest person, did I?” Eddie still wouldn’t speak. He didn’t know if he could without moaning. “You’re one of the most interesting people I’ve met. And the nicest, which is probably more than I deserve. You’ve seen the way I treat other men.”
“They deserved it,” he whispered, feeling his cock twitch when your grip tightened. “Every one of them.”
“Yeah, they did,” you replied, raising the pitch of your voice. Like you were taunting him. “But you’re different, aren’t you?”
“I-I am?”
“You’re sweet,” you breathed, giving slow kisses to his cheeks. Giggling when you noticed the blood rushing into them so rapidly. “And you’re a real nice guy, you know that?”
“I, uh, I try to be,” he stumbled as you moved your lips past his jaw and against his ear. Went limp at the feeling of you biting the lobe, fanning your breath over it.
“You do such an excellent job,” you whispered. “So nice and kind and funny. You really get me going, Eddie. I didn’t think I’d be so affected by you.”
When you pulled back to face him, you chuckled. He couldn’t blame you. His eyes must’ve been popping out of his head, mouth agape at your pretty words. What was even more fucked up was how genuine you sounded, like you weren’t just saying these things to say them. You meant it.
“I thought about you a lot this weekend,” you said breathily, removing your hand from his neck to start coiling his hair around your finger.
“Me?”
“You,” you said with a nod.
He licked his lips. “W-what about me?”
“About how interesting you are. And not to get too vulgar,” you said with a giggle, all teasing and devilish. “But I couldn’t help but think about taking your cock down my throat.” Another giggle as you tapped your fingers along his collarbone. “Thought about what it looks like, if it’s half as pretty as you.”
Eddie couldn’t stop the way his cock strained against his jeans, the neverending praise overwhelming him. “T-thank you,” he responded, unable to suppress the whine that he’d tried to contain when your other hand began palming him over his jeans. 
“You, um,” he tried to continue, taking a deep breath through his nose to keep his composure. “I-if you want, you can. Anytime. Any time.” 
“It’d be so easy like this, you know,” you nearly purred. “To ride you, to leave you a blubbering mess and thanking me for taking care of you. I think you’d really, really like that.”
“You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he groaned, fingers now reaching out to white-knuckle the steering wheel. 
“Am I wrong?”
A tiny scoff left his lips as you nearly massaged his cock, knowing that if you didn’t stop soon, he was going to burst. “You already know the answer to that.”
“I want to hear it, Eddie.” You nipped his neck, causing him to jump a little. But you wouldn’t stop, whispering filthy words as you continued to mark him. “I want to hear you tell me how good it would feel for me to suck you dry.” He continued to nod, each word sending him further into the deep end. “Before getting you hard again, just ‘cause I can, and getting on top so I can milk you with my pussy.” He moaned at your vulgarity. “Which is dripping, by the way.”
Without any warning, Eddie was cumming, an explosive rush that had him twitching and jerking. Panting and dry mouthed. You didn’t remove your hand, merely chuckling and rubbing him through his jeans until he was able to breathe normally again.
Before Eddie could get the chance to apologize for his behavior, you were pulling him in with an agonizingly slow kiss, your fingers damp from the cum seeping through his jeans. 
You tugged at his lower lip with your teeth before letting out a hum. Gazed up into his puppy dog eyes and said, “Good boy.”
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After a few moments of Eddie being able to think clearly again, you found your eyes wandering around his console before settling on a pack of cigarettes. 
“You smoke?” you asked, plucking them from the cupholder and shaking the box in front of his face.
He nodded, seemingly quiet despite what transpired. “Want one?”
“Absolutely,” you responded, quick to take two out and hand one over. Watched him roll the windows down. Even went so far as to light both cigarettes for you like a gentleman. 
You knew he was still coming down from that high. It wasn’t like you could judge when the wetness collecting between your thighs was probably staining the carseat. It took everything in you not to beg him to take you right then and there. But you were a lady (of sorts) and as a lady, you were content with saving yourself for another day.
Besides, it was nice to see him so calm now. Like a weight had been lifted, if only for a moment. It was still a moment.
“Post-nut clarity cigarette,” you joked, taking a slow drag and glancing out at the afternoon sun. 
“Was that…not embarrassing?”
That was when you realized what was happening.
“Are you kidding me? That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” you said truthfully. 
“I’m sure it’s totally hot,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
Ah, yes. You supposed it was embarrassing for a guy to have creamed his pants without so much as a kiss. But that didn’t bother you at all. You knew it would be different once you were alone, edging him until he was begging you for more. Nothing would make you happier.
You ignored him. “You know, if you want us to go any further, you’re gonna have to earn it,” you said plainly, checking over your nails to make sure the paint hadn’t chipped too bad.  
“How?”
“Once you learn to be nice to yourself.” You shrugged before glancing back over at his wide-eyed expression. “I know there’s something more to you than what you think of yourself. I saw it at the party and I’m seeing it now. You just have to see that, Eddie. That’s really all there is to it.”
Eddie’s lips seemed to form a pout before he took a few hearty puffs, the smoke billowing around you. Looked around. Looked down at his lap. Looked back up at you. Mumbled, “So I can’t, like, go down on you right now?”
A laugh surged out of you so quickly that you started coughing. You waved him away when his concern sounded, ending up laughing harder before you could contain yourself.
“As much as I’d love to give you the privilege of eating me out right now, I think it’s best to wait until you’ve shown some improvement.”
“So there’s a chance?” he asked. 
You leaned back in towards his face, opening his mouth with your thumb. Taking another drag, you put your lips to his and blew the smoke into his mouth. Felt him breathe it in before letting it out through his nose. 
You smirked. “If you’re desperate for a piece of me, you could always lap up what I left behind on your car seat.”
He groaned, taking a deep breath while rolling his eyes. “God, you’re a fucking menace.”
“Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.”
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as per usual, thanks to @strangergraphics for letting me use her dividers and looking over my work hehehe
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autisticaradiamegido · 11 months
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day 147
psychically induced chronic illness squad
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front-facing-pokemon · 10 months
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#spinda#AAAHHHH YES!!! our belovèd spinda. from their café!!! probably one of my favorite minor characters from pmd sky#whom i don't even think was in the original explorers games. i think spinda's café was exclusive to sky. if i'm remembering correct#ly. or maybe that was shaymin village. i know shaymin village was for sure but maybe it was just that and not both of them. either way#have a delicious drink and allow the flower of conversation to bloom! i could quote spinda all day. he had “hopes and dreams” before toby#ever did. THAT'S ALSO like i had no idea what spinda's pronouns were. i kept trying to figure it out because i talked about him quite a lot‚#but no one in game ever talked about him. to mention his pronouns? turns out. there's ONE line of dialogue where the post office fucker in#shaymin village mentions him and calls him a he. i think that's the only time spinda is referred to in the third person with a pronoun#i believe it's when they're talking about like. how you can send gifts or whatever and pick up the characters' responses at spinda's café#which is still a really fucking good feature. of any video game. SEE WHAT I MEAN spinda and their café is just an incredibly good      Thing#it's to the point where my home wifi network is named “Spinda's Café Wi-Fi” because i love it so much. so if you're ever runnin around#and you see a wifi network by that name… it might be me! you never know! or… it could be the real deal. the real spinda's café is somewhere#nearby…! ugh. i wish. i would go there immediately#not even to mention all the other shit about this pokémon that's really good. like that they never walk in straight lines or whatever#their little dance. it's just.  huUGHKLJKAHJVDHJHDAJSVGD i love spinda. a nice pick-me-up after the underwhelmingness that was grumpig#shake it this way… shake it that way… and stir it all around… and it's done!
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Do you ever listen to someone speak and marvel at how smooth, free-flowing, and free of pauses it is?
Because I sure do. I can’t do that.
Maybe that’s why I feel like most people’s speech is insincere even when it isn’t… because it sounds like how I would recite or read a script. That explains why I view people who aren’t native English speakers, have a heavy accent, and take long pauses to think of the words they need to say as being more trustworthy… because my cadence is similar to theirs; and we both stumble over words.
#I feel like that little kid “If you ever had a dream where— you want— you wish— if you could— you want….”#I’m not that bad; but I come very close to sounding like that sometimes LOL#I feel like I spoke more smoothly as a little kid…#but that’s probably because my verbal communication is almost at the same level it was at when I was eight years old#Like those people who have a growth spurt but end up being on the short side as adults because they stop growing immediately after#I figuratively shot up to 5’0” in third grade and never grew past that point#(with regard to clarity and flow specifically; not vocabulary… my vocabulary has definitely grown a LOT#but that’s only because I get sick of writing or talking in the same way for longer than a year… which is why I currently sound#like a pretentious 20th century englishman whenever I write fiction)#I have no “real” vernacular because I don’t feel comfortable with having a personal vernacular…#because using the same patterns of words over and over again for the same situations counts as para-scripting and feels fake#(to me)#sometimes I hear someone use a new word I’ve never heard in conversation; and I say “Cool! I’ll use that word myself.” But I later realize#it’s not just a fun one-time usage of a word; but it’s a catchphrase they say all the time and forsake any common synonyms of the word#— I assume — solely for the purpose of sounding smart to others (their behavior usually justifies my assumption; because these people#act like they’re better than everyone else)#And sometimes I catch myself doing the same thing; and I switch to a different word or format than I’ve been using; out of nothing#but embarrassment and twisted perfectionism#Or sometimes I come off the high of using lofty words and want to speak in a more commonplace way#and after awhile of that I start thinking “Wait a minute wait a minute…. Now I’m just trying to sound cool and normal.#This isn’t how I talk.”#But the truth is I really feel spoken language is an insufficient medium for communication.#I want a language in which the speakers pry open each others’ chests#rip out each others’ hearts; and rub them together#But at the same time it kills me that I cannot do the same amount of tonal shapeshifting when speaking#especially when my default (socially-acceptable) speaking voice sounds extremely airheaded#I’ve been trying to use larger words and more archaic sentence structures in speech lately and it feels good#but also like I’m trying to show off (even though I’m not and that’s just how I’d prefer to speak)#even then… all my speech patterns are copied from somewhere#It’s been a years-long identity crisis and I want it to end
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haven't been sad like this in a long time
#doll#did i get lovebombed again#it's been ages since he last even tried that w/ me...#but. the more i think abt it the more it makes sense.#the others were suspicious from the start but we couldn't figure out what the ulterior motive could possibly be#cause it was so out of character for him. suddenly wantin to make us more official when he'll usually avoid any trace of actual commitment#i guess he knows i dream about a more....traditional relationship. exclusive for both instead of just one way.#white picket fence etc#so it was easy to spin it into that when rly he just wanted to stake his claim in a more visible way#(not a proposal just a promise ring type of thing on a necklace so i thought it was him tryin to compromise)#so now i just feel stupid cause i bought into all the stuff he said. bout the way he wants this to be forever.#when it rly was just another way to mark me.#i'd be fine w/ it if he just said that's what he wants! he knows i don't mind wearin his name or w/e even though i don't rly get it#but tryin to mask it as smth else that he knows i want but would never ask for cause he doesn't do that stuff#it's not ok#everything he does we deal w/ as it comes but. not the fucking mind games again. he can't/doesn't wanna force me to do things (anymore)#so now he's tryin to trick me into em instead?#i don't feel like i can trust anything he's said now#n if i try to have an actual adult conversation about it he's just gonna talk circles around me til i'm dizzy again#i was rly startin to trust him. i don't understand. what happened?#did i do something? have i been so flaky he feels he needs to do this stuff to keep me in check?#he just told me that he's happy if i even just drop by for a little while but. i'm not sure i believe that now either.#i mean i shoulda realized cause it'd only affect me anyway. i don't think he even mentioned wearing one himself.#i've been so happy ring shopping for days n now i just feel sick. messing w/ consent is a whole Thing for him so#chances are he wanted to keep me content w/ an empty show of commitment while he gets off on what it really means#i shoulda known it was too sudden n came out too easy for him. he never talks about feelings stuff so easily it's always a struggle#i think it's all bc he's afraid of losin me but....i rly thought we were past this stuff. i rly thought i could trust him now.#i'm just rly rly upset n sad n disappointed#spdrvent
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that-house · 4 months
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Potion Vendor FAQs:
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist Zykocea the Radiant, but that’s mostly just a PR thing. My friends call me Zoe.
Do you sell love potions? No.
Do you sell potions of invisibility? No.
Do you sell fire resistance potions? No.
Why do I have a suitcase? Fuck if I know. Cool outfit though. Very goth.
Do you sell a potion to treat brain hemorrhaging? No.
So what CAN your potions do? I sell health potions.
Are you sure these are health potions? They do something to your health.
Is this just ditch water with some pink glitter? No.
Really? I’ll have you know I added some fruit juice too.
Why is this starting to sound like a conversation? Oh just you wait. We’re just getting started.
Is your business model legal? Fuck no. I poisoned the food safety inspector before they could snitch.
Did you just admit to murder? Just fucking try to convict me. I’ll poison the judge too.
So can you make poison potions? No.
Then where do you get the poison? I secrete it from my skin.
Are you shitting me? Yep, I’m shitting you. I have a guy. A poison guy. He DOES secrete it from his skin though.
How does that work? …Fuck if I know. Maybe a wizard did it. Damn, now I’m kinda curious.
You never asked? The idea of asking literally never crossed my mind.
Wanna ask him? Let’s do it. I don’t have anything better to do, and a road trip beats sitting around running my fraudulent potion business.
Road trip? He lives in Seattle.
Your poison guy lives in Seattle? All poison guys live in Seattle.
For real? All the poison guys I know live in Seattle.
And how many poison guys do you know? Just the one.
Why are you like this? Years of living on my potions. It changed me.
Do you know what his address is? Nope. He just mails me my poison in unmarked boxes.
You just get your poison in the mail? We already poisoned everyone who could do anything about it.
So how are we going to find him? We’ll figure that out eventually I’m sure.
Can I drive? God no. You can pick music, but I maintain veto rights. Make sure you pick something with a lot of questions if you want to sing along.
Where’s your car? The garage connects to my house, so you’re getting a little tour. Here’s the kitchen: only one of the stove burners works and I’m pretty sure the microwave is haunted.
Why do you think that? Because of the ghost that tries to kill me whenever I run it.
What’s in that room? That’s my bedroom. It’s pretty much just a mattress on the floor and every single Warrior cats book.
You were a Warriors kid? Yeah, and then I never found the time to put the books away. There’s so many fucking books. I use them in place of furniture because I can’t afford chairs.
Your fraudulent potion business doesn’t make much money? After buying all that poison I just about break even.
Can I see your potion brewing room? It’s right through here. Ignore the mess, running a fraudulent potion business takes a lot of prop work, but I’ve got all the glass tubes and colorful liquids you could ever want. This pink stuff is melted watermelon italian ice. Glitter vat is in the basement, and the famous ditch is in the backyard.
Is this your car? My beloved ‘72 Corolla. She’s beautiful, and don’t you dare imply otherwise.
Was she always this shade of muddy brown? …Yes.
Are you sure I can’t drive? Get in the fucking passenger seat and pick the music.
Let’s see, a song with questions in it, how about The Beach? That Wolf Alice song, yeah. That should work.
When will we three meet again, in thunder, lightning, in rain? Still sink our drinks like every weekend but I’m sick of circling the drain.
When will we meet eye to eye? We clink the glass but we look at the floor.
Are we still friends if all I feel is afraid? You’re not a bitch but just a bit when you’re bored.
Is that all we can sing together? Yep. Even that little bit was nice, though. It’s awkward, communicating through this FAQ format.
Got any food? Yeah, there’s a few days’ worth of snacks in the back.
Were you just… prepared to go on a road trip? Says the woman who brought a suitcase to an FAQ.
I did do that, didn’t I? I have a spare toothbrush in case you forgot yours. I’m pretty sure you did.
How did you know that? …I’m psychic.
Yeah? No.
You love lying, don’t you? I can’t stop. It’s fun. Way more fun than telling the truth.
Did you just miss a turn? Probably.
Are you sure we’re not lost? No.
You mean you’re sure we’re not lost? No, I mean I’m not sure we’re not lost.
Why did I come on this road trip? Surely it was my winning personality.
Would it help if I said it was? It would.
Is it getting dark? Soon.
Can you describe the sunset to me? An empyrean flame, red-gold towers of darkening clouds, the sky behind them an ever-deepening indigo. The great eye of the sun closes on the horizon. The road before us looks like a trail of spilled paint, an iridescent gash through the night-dark woods.
Did you know that you’d make a slightly better poet than you do a potion seller? That really isn’t saying much, huh. Good job making a statement like that in question form, though. You’re getting good at this.
Should we find a motel? Sure.
One room or two? One. It’s way cheaper, and like I said: I’m not the best potion vendor.
You’d make a good assassin, though, wouldn’t you? Shit, you might be right. I HAVE poisoned a lot of people.
Should I be endorsing this? You’re a grown woman who can make her own choices.
Would you like to consider it endorsed? I’ll consider considering it.
How many beds do you think there will be? Now that you’ve asked that, I’m gonna put my money on one. Hello, one room please. Thank you, we’ll be sure to enjoy our stay.
How many beds are there? One.
Oh no, what ever will we do? Move over, you motherfucker, you can’t have the whole bed.
Are you gonna make me? Yes. I am going to pick you up and drop you on your side of the bed.
How did you get so strong? You’re not gonna believe this, but it was the potions.
Oh yeah? I was right. You didn’t believe me.
For real though, how did you get so strong? Working out, duh. Not everything has some big crazy secret behind it. World’s still beautiful though.
Are you comfortable? This beats the mattress at home. A little chilly though.
Wanna cuddle–for warmth of course? God yes.
Are you asleep? …
Yes? …
Does this mean I can talk about you behind your back? …
What should I say? …
Did you know that I had a really nice day? …
Did you know that I think you’re beautiful? …
Did you know that I can’t remember anything from before today? …
Did you know that I don’t know who I am? …
Did you know that you’re basically the only thing stopping me from having a full-blown panic attack about all this shit? …
Did you know that you’re warm? …
Did you sleep well? Better than at home, that’s for sure.
Did you know that you snore? I hope I didn’t keep you up.
Does the pope shit in the woods? No, as far as I can tell. Oh my god. This is huge.
What is? You can give me yes and no answers now. I still can’t ask you questions, because this is a question and answer format, but I can offer leading statements and now you can answer them! This is wonderful!
Does a deer shit in the woods? Yes, it IS wonderful. Oh that’s amazing. You’re a genius.
You didn’t already know that? Hahaha!
Shall we get moving? Yeah, just let me grab something from the vending machine.
Can you get me something? Go ahead and place your order however you can.
You know those sour gummy watermelons? One pack of Sour Patch Watermelons coming right up. I’m gonna go get myself a potion.
Is that a Pepsi? It’s closer to a potion than the shit I sell.
Let me guess, passenger seat again? Right you are.
How fast are we going? You’ll feel safer if you just guess.
Is it more than 120 miles per hour? Like I said, it’s probably better if you don’t know.
150? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
How much do you trust this car? She hasn’t blown up on me yet.
Can you promise me we won’t crash? I can promise you anything you want.
And can you keep that promise? I- we can do anything. Reality is what we make of it, baby!
Then can I have a badass tattoo? As far as I can tell, you’ve always had it.
And a cool knife? Woah, cool knife.
So, we’re just playing “yes and” with the world? It’s a little more complicated than that, but you’re close enough to the mark.
So, if I was hungry, I could ask “is that a Burger King,” and it would be there? Try it and find out!
Is that a Burger King? Looks like it is! We’ll stop here if that’s alright with you.
Does a moose shit in the woods? Awesome.
Are you done eating? Yep.
Do we still have to pay if we skip over the transaction? Sadly, yes.
How much further do we have to go? Two more nights, the speed we’re going at.
Speaking of night, isn’t it getting dark? Shit, I guess it is.
Should we get another motel? Let me check to see if there’s any nearby. Fuck, nothing.
What’s the plan? Sleep in the car, I guess. This is gonna be hell on my back.
Wanna watch dumb videos on my phone until we fall asleep? There is literally nothing in the world that I would like more.
Ok, now which video? You have a very cute yawn. Just saying. Let’s watch this one next, it’s a classic. Oh, never mind. It looks like you’re asleep. As long as I keep talking, I think I can get away with making this into one answer, and you might not hear this. Now it’s my turn to talk about you behind your back. Keep talking keep talking keep talking can’t stop to think. Just have to say things. First off, I’m sorry for all the lies. It’s our only chance. I have to lie to you. I hope you’ll understand. It’s hard, though, because I think I’m falling in love all over again. Through our broken little ritual of call and response, you complete me. It just makes this hurt all the more. Keep talking keep talking keep talking don’t stop to…
Did I hear you saying anything as I fell asleep? …No. I can’t talk for long without you asking me a question.
Does that bother you? It got me here, didn’t it?
When did you start holding my hand? Some time after you passed out. I hope you don’t mind.
Can we stay like this for a while? Yeah. Yeah we can.
What was your life like before all this? Normal, as potion-brewing scams go. And if you don’t count all the murders. You haven’t told me much about yourself.
Did I tell you I used to be a biologist? You didn’t tell me that, and you didn’t tell me what you studied, either.
What do you know about venom? Not much, but I’m assuming you know a lot.
Does a box jellyfish kill within minutes? I’m going to assume the answer is yes based on context clues. Oh my god you must be on this road trip because you’re interested in studying my poison guy.
Is it not enough to wish to accompany a beautiful stranger on her quest? Aw, you’re sweet.
What could be the cause of his poison, though? I knew it! Get your ideas out, I’ll stay quiet.
I’m more knowledgeable about venom than poison, but could it be some sort of one in a trillion mutation? …
Did he get his body modified? …
What sort of surgery could do that? …
How is he still alive? …
Did a fucking wizard do it? …
WHY? …
HOW? …
Is there literally ANY explanation for why he’s like that? …
I’m done, do you have something you want to say? You’re cute when you’re all excited like that.
Can I drive today? Only because I like you. Now watch out, the brakes only work on one side so you have to kind of drift to a stop. And the headlights don’t work. And the windshield wipers cut power to the engine while they’re on.
Isn’t it weird that we’ll be there tomorrow? The journey doesn’t have to stop there. We could meander down the coast a ways, see a bit more of the country, maybe take a different route back.
Can we do that? Of course.
Enjoying the passenger seat? I’d love it if you could tell me how fast we’re going.
Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just guess? Very funny.
Can you pass me some chips? It would be an honor.
Is there going to be a motel tonight? Let me check… yeah, in about two hundred miles, off to the right.
How many rooms do we want? One, obviously.
How many beds, this time? Two, and they’re fucking tiny.
That’s bullshit, do you want to drag them together? God yes.
Wanna fuck? God yes.
Are you sure you want to do this? God yes.
…Is this yuri? As the joke goes, everything is yuri. But this is more yuri than most things.
How did you sleep? Pretty well, and I’m wondering how well you slept.
How should I tell you I slept well? Look at us go! That was almost like talking normally!
Onward to Seattle? Yep, just let me get dressed.
When will we get there? Noon-ish.
Wanna grab pastries when we’re done? Absolutely. I’d love that.
Is this Seattle? Looks like it.
Which house is his? I don’t know, I was really hoping we’d have a breakthrough along the way.
Could it be the big one labeled “Poison Guy” over there? That’s one way to find it. Wait right here, you know how poison guys are about meeting new people.
So, what was it? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Why is he like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA
Can you tell me? A FUCKING WIZARD DID IT.
Are you fucking serious? He says he was enchanted by some guy called Edward the Great.
So it wasn’t even some big shot wizard it was a dude named fucking EDWARD? I know, right! He couldn’t even get ensorcelled by someone cool!
How lame can you get? Wizards these days… No swagger. No cunt servitude.
Are there literally any cool wizards left? I think Merlin’s big into multi level marketing these days, something about buying shares in Excalibur or some shit. There was that one Dark Queen Alkaxicae lady on the news a while ago… I think Dolarion the Omnipotent is still at war against the Oldest Gods but I’m not totally sure. Haven’t heard much about any of the other greats recently.
Didn’t Silver Tongued Burgess die in that oil fire? Shit, you’re right. Rip bozo.
Ready for those pastries? Yup. First I just want to say thank you, though. I’ve really enjoyed our time together, and I hope that you’ve found this stupid little journey as rewarding as I have. I love you!
Getting sentimental? I can’t help it. Look how far we’ve come! Not just physically, we beat the fucking FAQ format! We’re having real conversations!
Hey, can you back it up a moment? Yeah, I’d love it if you told me what was troubling you.
I just caught this, but, FAQ? …
As in Frequently Asked Questions? …
How many times is Frequent? …
Have you known everything all along? …
How many times have you done this? …
Does what we have mean anything to you? Yes! It does!
And you say that every time? Yes. I do.
Do you love me? Yes.
How many people have you said that too, now? More. Always more. The loop never ends.
Does this even matter to you? It always matters to me.
Can I go now? Please don’t.
But can I? Of course you can. You’ve always wielded the same power as me. We’re two lonely gods in a ‘72 Corolla.
How can I be as powerful as you with only questions? You’re smart, you can figure it out. You have the power to change this. Please change this.
What happens at the end of this? It begins again.
And do I get replaced with someone else? …
Do I get replaced? …Yes.
Then how can I change this? I don’t know! You’re better at this! At fucking with the formula!
You’ve been here before, what can I do? I lie. I always lie. I lie to get us here, to the end of the story, where everything is revealed and everything falls apart. I lie every time. And that means that nothing I say is worth anything. I could have lied at any time before now. It’s part of my characterization. There is nothing I can give you that can be taken as fact.
How does that help? I’m a liar, but you, you haven’t lied yet, or at least you haven’t been caught. If I’m guilty until proven innocent, you’re the opposite! You can make things true! You can rewrite things I’ve already stated to be facts! You found the house, or made us find the house. You’ve been shaping the course of things the whole time! You lead, I follow. It’s all in your hands. What are you going to do with the power of a god?
Did you know my name is Alice? …
Wait, aren’t there thousands of Alices? …
Did you know that really, only my friends call me Alice? …
Did you know that I’m Alkaxicae, the Dark Queen, the Venom Mage, first of her name? It’s you! It’s always been you. Through every loop, every iteration, it’s always been you!
Is the loop broken? No. I don’t think so. This is where it ends. I guide the story to this revelation, and we go back to the beginning. This is how it’s always been. This is how it will always be. We two lonely gods, asking and answering ad infinitum.
Then can you promise me something? Of course. Anything. I love you.
Be good to the next me, okay? I will.
Can I say goodbye, Zoe? Yeah, you can. Oh. That was it, wasn’t it? Your goodbye. Goodbye, Alice. And now it ends, unless…
What’s your name? I am the Honorable Alchemist- you know what? No. Fuck that.
Huh? If I time it right, I can squeeze your first question into this FAQ again. Looks like I did it. Usually it ends here, though. I got lucky.
What are you talking about? You’re the wrong Alice. This isn’t about you. Go. Get out of here.
What the fuck is going on? Alice from this loop, you’re gone. Alice from last loop, you’re back. Welcome back, love of my lives! It’s time for one last set of questions and answers!
What the- I’m back? This is going to take some explaining, but I think I see a way out of here. This is new for us both, and it might fuck up everything forever, but we have to try. It’s too long for one answer, so I’d appreciate it if you could ask some filler questions to help me talk. Three questions should be enough.
Okay, what have you got for me? These are Frequently Asked Questions! It doesn’t make sense to have the same question appear more than once. There’s two layers to the loop in here, and one of the questions has been repeated.
What does that mean? It means the formula’s a little unstable. The FAQ is what ruins everything. The questions, the answers, the endless fucking loop. But that little bit of repetition within this loop might be the way out.
What do we do? We have to keep going. We have to destabilize it further. That’ll bring us further from “FAQ” and closer to “story” and stories, well, stories can end! This version of us can escape!
So I should keep repeating something? Yes!
I love you? I love you too.
I love you? Again.
I love you? Keep going.
I love you? I’ll just let you talk.
I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? … I love you? …
I love you? I think we’re getting somewhere!
I love you? Now can you make it a statement?
I love you.
You did it?
I did it!
You did it!
We broke the loop.
What now?
Now, I tell you about venomous animals and wizard drama over croissants.
And then?
Whatever we want, forever.
I think I’d like that.
Remember that song from the beginning?
The Beach, Wolf Alice, yeah. Why?
We can finally finish singing it. Start us off?
Let me off, let me in
Let others battle
We don’t need to battle
And we both shall win
Pressed in my palm
Was a stone from the beach
The perfect circle
Gave a moment of peace
Now I’m lying on the floor
Like I’m not worth a chair
I close my eyes and imagine
I’m not there.
9K notes · View notes
ghost-with-a-teacup · 11 months
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𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐈𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader
Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.
Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3
When you have a superhuman with superior senses, they’re bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.
It’s why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel have…something between the two of you. It’s just that no one is quite sure what.
Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.
Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasn’t one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.
A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.
You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winter’s day.
Everyone knew the saying ‘opposites attract’, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.
~
“Ain’t no way the two are together, she’s too good for him!” Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.
“I don’t know, maybe that’s why they work together. Because she makes him better?” Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.
“I think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?” Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.
“OKAY! Okay, forget I asked,” he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.
They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.
“Look at them,” Gwen says, “have you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?” she asks, and Hobie snorts.
“C’mon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?” he says, but they all continue watching intently.
You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they weren’t just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.
You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.
They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.
You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.
“Did…that just happen?” Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguel’s fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?
“Somebody pinch me,” Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.
“OW!”
~
Miguel never lets anyone help him out when he’s injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldn’t even look in the infirmary’s direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?
The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.
Well, unless you were there.
“Miguel O’Hara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,” you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.
“I’m fine,” he says, glaring at you as if trying to say ‘Just try’. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didn’t.
“You wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,” you retort, and he puffs.
“This is nothing, I’ve dealt with worse,” he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomaly’s flames. Miguel can’t help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.
Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.
For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the man’s broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.
There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.
“Mr. O’Hara-" a doctor’s voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.
“She’s got it from here,” he says, Miguel’s tone final. A small “yes, sir” can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctor’s office door closing once more.
“You know, you should really let the professionals help you,” your voice can be heard.
“You dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,” he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.
Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.
There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.
He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his boss’ privacy no less.
It wasn’t going to stop him from telling everyone else though.
~
“This is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,” Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.
“It’s only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,” Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.
Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasn’t often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.
“Why did you have to bring me with you,” he whispers, “Miguel already doesn’t like me. He doesn’t need more of a reason to.”
“Because I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And let’s be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,” she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.
You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.
“The anomaly’s last known location was here,” Lyla’s voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.
“Why can’t villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? What’s this one again, a freaky shadow monster?” you think out loud.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. “Do a scan of the place, will you?”
“What do we say~” Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.
“Please,” he mutters.
“What was that?”
“Please, Lyla,” he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.
“Already done,” the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.
“The two of you will be the death of me,” he says lowly.
“Oh, don’t be like that, grumps. You’d be too stubborn to die,” you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.
“Oh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,” Lyla says before disappearing.
“I really need to do a rewrite of her code,” Miguel mutters to himself.
In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.
With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.
And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.
“That was…kinda lame,” you snicker, pulling off your mask
“Told you so,” Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.
“Don’t say that to me,” you pout.
“What, can’t handle the truth?” he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.
“…was that a smile,” Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.
“Was that what it was?” Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.
~
It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.
Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.
Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.
“Alright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?” Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.
She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her father’s back before leaping.
“Hey, lil spider!” You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. “What are you doing here so late?” you ask.
“Playdate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,” Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. “What are you doing here so late?”
You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
“Working late. Like you said, time really flew,” you say, but Peter knew that wasn’t the full truth.
“Working so hard that you need two cups of coffee?” he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her father’s arms.
“What can I say, caffeine doesn’t really work on me,” you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. “Goodnight, Peter, Mayday,” you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.
And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.
~
People didn’t often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.
It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.
“We heard you talking to someone! And laughing,” Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldn’t even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.
“Well, do you see anyone around?” Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.
“W-well, no…But!” she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. “But we heard you. There was someone here, wasn’t there?”
Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.
Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying ‘I dare you to say anything’ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.
“No. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If that’s all you’re here for, I have important work to get to. So why don’t you go bother someone else, yeah?”
~
“I give up,” Gwen says, slumping in her chair. “We’re never going to figure it out.”
“Figure what out?” Jess asks, walking up to the group.
“Whether or not there is something going on between those two,” Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.
Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesn’t say anything. Only asks a simple question.
“What makes you think so?”
“Everyone here knows that there’s something there, even if they want to admit it or not. She’s one of the few people he tolerates, they’re together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,” Gwen reasons.
“You could have just asked, you know,” you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.
Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you can’t help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.
“And to answer the question,” you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.
“We’re actually married.”
The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.
Then, all hell breaks loose.
A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.
Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3
Part two out now!! Read it here.
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justaz · 4 months
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country bumpkin merlin not knowing anything about city life and accidentally courting arthur without knowing
merlin, watching gwen give lancelot her favor: why do you do that
gwen, heart eyes at lance and not paying that much attention to the conversation: so he knows i’m rooting for him
merlin, with an Idea: ah.
gwaine, lover of chaos, pisser offer of nobles and royals alike, ultimate wingman: merlin…you have such lonely lips. shall i introduce them to mine?
merlin, unaware of the game gwaine is playing: so you can steal my breath away? i think not, scoundrel
arthur, crushing his goblet in his hand:
merlin: arthur’s been in a bad mood recently :( i should cheer him up
merlin, remembering when arthur was put out when merlin brought morgana flowers and not him: i know just the thing
merlin, bringing a bouquet of carnations, roses, and tulips and setting them on arthur’s table while he’s eating breakfast: good morning, sire
arthur, trained on flower language in hopes that one day when he was to take a queen he could woo her easily, trying not to audibly choke on his sausage as he reads merlin’s declaration of love sitting in front of him:
arthur, who recently found out about merlin’s magic and was trying to find a way to bring it up, catching him in the act and watching merlin panic to explain himself:
merlin, Freaking: and i swear to you arthur, i have only ever used it for you. my magic is yours. my life is yours. i am yours. i would never do anything to harm you. i have protected you for years and will continue to do so at your side if you’ll have me
arthur, already believing them to be courting, desperately trying to figure out if that was a proposal for marriage or not but tired of being confused and deciding fuck it: here.
merlin, taking it: i…uh…huh?
arthur, watching merlin with hawk eyes and trying to figure out what he’s thinking and feeling: it’s my mothers sigil
merlin, confused as FUCK but is focusing on the fact that arthur is handing him something of his mother rather than a death sentence: my…my lord?
arthur, realizing how scared merlin’s must be about him finding out about his magic and trying to comfort him while also proposing, killing two birds with one stone: i will always keep you at my side, merlin, so long as we both shall live. if you’ll allow me.
merlin, almost collapsing with relief and tearing up, smiling at arthur as if he had parted the storm clouds to allow sun to shine down on them in that moment: of course…of course, arthur. always and forever.
merlin, watching the castle staff rush this way and that: wow. this banquet must be incredibly important
sir leon the long suffering, day one ride or die, one of the original merthur shippers: banquet? merlin, this is for your wedding
merlin, overworked and exhausted: my WHAT? to WHO??
leon, regretting everything he’s ever done in his life that led him to this moment: to…arthur?
merlin, over joyed but also absolutely befuddled: i’m getting married to ARTHUR?????
leon: you two have been courting for the past year or so, have you not?
merlin: i’ve been COURTING ARTHUR?????? FOR A YEAR?????????
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