#could I do actual math here? yes. am I going to? no | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nereidprinc3ss · 14 days

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do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three

part five

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him.

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye.

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign.

You look at it.

And then you set your phone down.

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness.

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside.

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes.

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment.

He looks good. Almost too good.

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek.

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head.

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him.

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully.

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.”

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek.

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best.

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body.

You cover his hand with your own.

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion.

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies.

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks.

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense.

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this.

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy.

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel.

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm.

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him.

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you.

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly.

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds.

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no.

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful.

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly.

“Yes, please.”

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting.

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine.

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it.

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for.

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings.

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present.

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing.

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster.

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem.

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest.

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place.

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand.

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair.

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him.

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful.

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again.

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you.

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame.

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you.

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul.

“Spencer?”

“Hm?”

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin.

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential.

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands.

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind.

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK.

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake.

He knows.

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity.

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like.

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before.

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it?

Maybe you have it all wrong.

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you.

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick.

24 hours go by.

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up.

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure.

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off.

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking.

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep.

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed.

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone.

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said.

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room.

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while.

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs.

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones.

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble.

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no.

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly.

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence.

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans.

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure. After a pause, he sighs in defeat.

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown.

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless.

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up.

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones. It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic.

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand.

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket.

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter.

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges.

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it.

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it.

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer.

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing.

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?”

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you.

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?”

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that.

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before.

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft.

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest.

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows.

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts.

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning.

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration.

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous.

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them.

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit.

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice.

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making.

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now.

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that.

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers.

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute.

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base.

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut.

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock.

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.”

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk.

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump.

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment.

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry.

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!”

He knows.

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist.

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding.

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease.

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more.

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone.

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide.

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else.

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you.

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here.

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength.

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?”

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink.

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous.

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue.

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared.

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out.

“You regret your first time?”

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does.

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash.

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins.

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same.

You want to scream bloody murder.

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse.

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence.

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back.

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me.

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later.

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was.

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help.

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does.

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound.

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more.

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right.

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here.

“Goodnight.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

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leahwllmsn · 7 months

Text

16,904 | leah williamson x reader

so this was something I wrote a few years ago and I decided to change it into a leah fic cause I've been so obsessed :-)

hope you like it!

Melbourne

October, 2023

You finally tell your friends that you’ve been talking to someone you met online on a Friday night. The response you got is that they all think you're crazy, and you can’t blame them—saying that you have a tiny crush on this blonde who’s almost twice your height and likes football and country music without actually knowing if this said blonde exists is kind of crazy.

But you really do like talking to Leah and you could only hope that Leah is Leah and not some fifty-year-old man.

“You don’t even know what she looks like,” one of your friends snorts.

“It’s not always about the looks,” you argue.

“That’s true,” another one of your friends chimed in. “But you gotta admit, the looks matter a lot.”

You were about to correct her and say no, they do not, because yeah, sure, Leah is so freaking gorgeous based on the pictures on her profile, but what matters the most is that she’s so kind, and funny, and just overall amazing.

Instead you kept your mouth shut. A part of you don’t want to share Leah with anyone just yet.

(And another part of you still needs the confirmation that that is actually Leah because god damn it Leah is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and you wish that it’s really her.)

—

6 Oct, 9:02 pm

y/n: I told my friends about you. they think it’s weird that I’m starting something with you when we’ve never met

y/n: it’s not weird, is it?

leahw6: starting something huh? ;)

y/n: shut up

y/n: we met on tinder. what were you expecting to find? a math tutor?

leahw6: ...

leahw6: you’re really funny, love

leahw6: and no, it’s not weird

y/n: good

y/n: and for the record, even if they think it’s weird I couldn’t care less

—

6 Oct, 9:25 pm

leahw6: just to be clear

leahw6: ‘starting something’ that means you want to date me right

y/n: how else could I mean that

leahw6: idk maybe you were the one looking for a math tutor

—

London

October, 2023

“Where did you meet her again?”

“Tinder.”

“Tinder,” Lia repeats.

“Yes,” Leah nods. “When we were in Australia for the World Cup… I got bored one night and decided to go on Tinder.”

“And you found her there,” Lia muses, sipping on her cup of coffee. “Wait, so she lives in Australia?”

“Melbourne, yes.”

“And does she know you’re all the way here in London?”

Leah hesitates before answering. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Oh boy,” Lia gives her a sympathetic look. “Does she know who you are?”

“Me… as in Leah?” Leah gives her teammate a confused look. “Yeah?”

“You as in you’re Leah Williamson.”

“Oh,” realization sunk in Leah’s face. “Then no. I mentioned I like football and she said she hates it. So, I doubt she knows who I am.”

“Oh boy.”

“I know,” Leah drops her head on the table. “I’ll tell her soon but what if it’s a deal breaker?”

“Which part? The part where you’re a famous footballer or you live thousands of kilometers away?”

Leah grimaces “Distance problem. She already said she hates football and wouldn’t dare step foot in a football game, but it’s fine! That’s not a problem because I can and will convince her to watch one of my games.”

Lia laughs. “Sure, buddy.”

“I really like her,” Leah continues. “She’s funny and witty and passive aggressive sometimes but it’s so endearing. She has great taste in music, great taste in movies and books, and just great taste overall—”

Leah’s words get cut off with Lia’s hand on her mouth. “You’ve known her for a few weeks and this is already how you act?” Lia chuckles, taking her hand away. “You got it bad, Williamson.”

Leah groans. “I know.”

“Just tell her now. If she likes you the same way, I have a feeling that she wouldn’t mind either.”

—

24 Oct, 4:13 pm

leahw6: can we talk ?

y/n: sounds serious

leahw6: kind of

y/n: are you getting tired of me already :(

leahw6: ofc not

y/n: oh okay :D

leahw6: idk how to say this

y/n: do you want me to call you?

leahw6: oh god no

leahw6: omg wait

leahw6: I didn’t mean that in a bad way I swear

leahw6: it’s just that if you call me I’ll be hearing your voice for the first time and I’ll be even more nervous

leahw6: and I don’t think I’ll be able to put out a coherent sentence bc I’ve been imagining so much what your voice would sound like with that face and all my guesses are that you have an extremely hot voice, raspy maybe?

leahw6: but actually no I don’t think you have a raspy voice

leahw6: a deep one maybe and holy shit a deep voice with an australian accent? I’ll faint on the spot I’m afraid

leahw6: no you can’t call me

y/n: okay...?

leahw6: I’m really sorry please ignore all that

y/n: I won’t ignore it, it’s adorable

leahw6: you think I’m weird don’t you

y/n: absolutely

leahw6: great

y/n: it just makes me like you even more

leahw6: I live in london

y/n: as in the one in england … ?

leahw6: is there another london I don’t know about

[incoming call from y/n]

leahw6: why are you calling me ?!

leahw6: I told you I’m too nervous rn

y/n: I don’t get it. it says that you were 2km away?

leahw6: yeah… I was on vacation… kind of...

y/n: kind of?

y/n: so you don’t actually live here?

leahw6: y/n if I was only 2 km away from you I would make up excuses just so I can see you everyday

y/n: how many km is it instead

leahw6: between us?

leahw6: google says it’s 16,904 km

y/n: ??! holy shit

leahw6: I know

leahw6: look, I get it if you want to stop this. not everyone is cut out for long distance

y/n: we’re like

y/n: on opposite sides of the world

leahw6: I know

y/n: do you want to stop this?

leahw6: I don’t

y/n: then we won’t

leahw6: are you sure

y/n: let me call you

leahw6: NO

y/n: leah

leahw6: give me a day to prepare

y/n: you’re so dumb

y/n: but fine

y/n: do I at least get a facetime

leahw6: FACETIME?

leahw6: no. you get a phone call. voice only

y/n: r u catfishing

y/n: I knew it you’re too beautiful to be real

leahw6: ha ha

y/n: call me tomorrow okay lee?

leahw6: okay

leahw6: and y/n

leahw6: thank you

y/n: what for

leahw6: for giving us a chance

y/n: leah I’d be stupid not to

—

Melbourne

November, 2023

You're in the middle of a meeting with boring, old men in suits when your phone rings—very loudly at that. You curse yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, quickly pressing the red circle on the screen, but not before smiling at the caller ID.

When the meeting finishes an hour later, you immediately pick up your phone and dial Leah’s number.

“Hey you.”

You smile at the voice on the other end. “Sorry I couldn’t pick up. I was in a meeting.”

“Oh sorry, bad timing. Thought you were finished for the day”

“Bad timing indeed,” you chuckle. “It rang really loudly.”

“Y/n,” you could hear Leah’s soft giggles. “The silent feature exists for a reason.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you take a seat in your office chair and sigh contently. “I’m glad it rang though.”

“How so?”

��I saw your name and my mood instantly picked up.”

Leah snorts. “You’re such a sweet talker, mate.”

You throw her head back in laughter. “But it’s true!”

Leah doesn’t say anything after that, all you could hear is the sound of chatter and honking of cars. “Where are you?”

“I just had breakfast, I’m walking to the… office.”

“You called me when you were having breakfast? Am I that much more interesting than whoever you were with?” you ask, your tone teasing.

“Of course you are,” is Leah’s reply and you could feel your stomach flipping upside down.

“Now who’s the sweet talker?”

“Still you.”

“Says the person who couldn’t stop telling me I’m pretty when we facetimed for the first time.”

Leah laughs and you really, really love the sound. “But you are pretty.”

“But I don’t think I need to hear it every five minutes.”

“Just accept the compliments, love.”

“Okay,” you relent, a grin spreading across your face. “Who did you have breakfast with?”

“Just my team– colleagues. My colleagues, Beth, Viv and Lia.”

You go silent for a few seconds, the last name ringing a bell in your head. “Lia as in your ex?”

“The one and only.”

“Oh.”

Leah must’ve sensed the jealousy in your voice (but honestly, you aren't jealous, you’re really not), because the next thing you know Leah is laughing and telling you that it didn’t work out between her and Lia because they were better off as friends.

“You see her everyday though,” you say, your voice less confident than before.

“And what about it?”

“You don’t see me everyday,” you pout, staring at a polaroid picture of Leah smiling at the camera that is stuck to the wall of your cubicle. Leah sent you a handwritten letter along with that picture a few days ago. Your roommate was the one who received it and it went something like this:

“Oh my god, there’s no way this is your Leah.”

“What?”

“This! Is this really her?”

“Is that Lee’s mail for me? Did you open it?!”

“I got curious!”

“Give me that!”

“You never mentioned that she looks like this!”

“I just haven’t shown you what she looks like ‘cause everyone kept on teasing me!”

“Because she could be a fake for all we know! But holy shit, she’s soo stunning. Does she have a twin sister?”

“No.”

“A twin brother?”

“No.”

“Can I have her instead then?”

“What the—no?!”

“Fine, be stingy like that.”

“...I’m really fine with us like this.”

You blink away images of your roommate in your head and focus your attention back to Leah’s voice. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m okay with not being able to see you everyday,” Leah repeats. “Talking to you over the phone is enough.”

You smile. “It’s enough for me too. It’d be great to have you next to me but this is good too.”

People would think otherwise but for you, having Leah a phone call away really is enough; you'd take hearing Leah's laughter through the phone than not hearing it at all.

—

10 Nov, 1:11 pm

y/n: I got a dog

leahw6: ???!!

leahw6: Y/N CALL ME OMG

leahw6: I WANT TO SEE

y/n: you’re more excited to see him than me ://

leahw6: YES

y/n: excuse me

leahw6: WHAT’S HIS NAME

y/n: robert

leahw6: ROBERT?

y/n: yes, robert

leahw6: he's now my favourite

leahw6: SEND PICS

y/n: :/

y/n:

leahw6: you know you're my favourite too

y/n: :D

leahw6: but I think I like robert more than you OMG HE'S ADORABLE!!!!

y/n: bye

—

London

December, 2023

leahw6: want to hear a funny story

y/n: what is it

leahw6: a guy tried to hit on me tonight

y/n: excuse me???

[incoming call from y/n]

“That’s not funny,” is the first thing Leah hears once she accepts the call.

“Hello to you too,” Leah stifles a laugh. You sound tense and Leah can just picture the frown on your face.

“Leah.”

“Yes, babe?” Leah learnt that the quickest way to melt away your anger is to use pet names and so for any argument (even if Leah is in the wrong), Leah would always win.

This time it doesn’t seem to work. “How is that funny again?”

“Darling, I’m just teasing you.”

“Did a guy really hit on you?”

“Yes,” Leah answers honestly. “He bought me a drink.”

“I see.”

Leah doesn’t like how dejected you sound. So she presses the button for facetime and the first thing she sees when you accept is her girlfriend pouting at the screen.

“What are you doing?” Leah giggles.

“Is all of this funny to you?” you pout even more, your phone screen illuminating your face in the dark room.

“Did I wake you up?” Leah asks instead. She knows you like to sleep in on weekends.

“Yes, but that’s fine. You know I want to talk to you any chance I get,” you answer, shifting so that you’re now lying on your side.

“You’re the best,” Leah says as she climbs in bed, tucking herself under the covers.

“Obviously,” you scoff. “Unlike that stupid guy who doesn’t know you’re off-limits.”

Leah grins at the annoyed look you’re giving her. “Baby?”

“Hm?”

“It’s so cute when you’re jealous.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I’m jealous. He gets to be within your presence while I’m stuck here, freaking sixteen thousand kilometres away from you. It’s unfair.”

Leah sends her a soft smile. “But you’re the one I’m talking to every day, so who’s the real winner here?” The frown is still present on your face and Leah wants nothing more than to kiss it away—so that’s what she did.

“Leah, what the hell are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” Leah answers simply, kissing her screen again.

And when Leah hears laughter from the other end, her heart feels much lighter.

“Lee, have you cleaned your phone? That’s gross.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to be romantic.”

“Cute, but maybe clean your phone first.”

Leah rolls her eyes at you, her smile never leaving her face. “At least I made you laugh.”

“You always make me laugh,” you say, your face so close to her camera that the entirety of Leah’s screen is just a close up of your face. Leah’s heart swells in adoration at the sight.

“Did you have a good night's sleep?” Leah asks.

You hum in answer. “Now it’s your turn to get a good night’s sleep.”

You could see how hard Leah is trying to keep her eyes open.

“This sucks, time difference sucks” Leah pouts. “I just want to talk to you.”

“Baby,” you give her a sad smile. “It is how it is. We’ll talk more when you wake up.”

“Yes, captain,” Leah gives you grin, her eyes fully closed.

“Good night, Leah. Sweet dreams.”

You watch Leah go to sleep for a few minutes, the sound of her soft snores making it seem like she’s right next to you.

That night Leah dreams that you're right next to her, holding her close and keeping her warm on the cold winter night.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #leah williamson imagine #awfc x reader #lionesses x reader #woso x reader

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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 4 months

Text

Waiting for You

A Michael Gavey Drabble

Author’s Note: I guess I’m doing drabbles now? This came to me when I was in my third meeting in a row that covered the same information we got in meeting #1 lol

Summary: It’s the evening of your first date with Michael Gavey, but a phone call with your mum lasted way longer than it should have and now you’re running a little bit late. Unfortunately, you forgot your phone at your dorm, so you have no way of letting Michael know.

Waiting for You

7:15

That was the time you had agreed to meet Michael at the pub. He was completely certain about that - he’d written it in his planner, the calendar on the wall of his dorm, and his Yahoo calendar.

He looked at his watch again.

7:23

Being a few minutes late made sense, he thought. You didn’t have a car, and public transportation can be somewhat unreliable on weekends. But now, you were nearly ten minutes late. Even with imprecise bus timings, that seemed like a lot.

It certainly seemed long enough for Michael’s mind to start spiraling.

Maybe you had forgotten. Maybe you got on the wrong bus. Maybe the bus had a mechanical failure, or was stuck in unavoidable traffic.

The longer he stood there, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers as he stared at the pavement outside the pub, the more far-fetched his thoughts became.

Maybe a faculty member had suddenly needed your help and you couldn’t say no. Maybe your bud had been in an accident. Maybe you’d been kidnapped somehow.

Maybe…

7:28

Maybe you’d realized you didn’t actually want to go out with him.

Why would you? After his outburst in the dining hall at the beginning of the year, he was infamous within your college. Everyone knew the creepy maths nerd who’d made a fool of himself on the first day.

It made perfect sense that you wouldn’t want to be seen with him. What if the essence of his social pariah-dom would rub off on you somehow, and people started treating you the way they treated him?

You wouldn’t want that. He wouldn’t want that for you.

Ditching him would be the smart move. After all, it had apparently worked well for Oliver Quick, the cunt. Maybe if you abandoned him as well, you’d also get an invite to Felix Carton’s estate for the summer. For all he knew, it was a requirement.

7:34

It had been stupid of him to even think you’d want to go out with him.

You were popular and well-liked. You were gorgeous. You were smart. All things that should have wiped Michael off your radar entirely.

But you were also kind. You were friendly to him. You talked to him.

When he asked if you wanted to study with him, you’d said yes. When he asked to exchange phone numbers, you’d said yes. And when he asked you out on a date - this date - you’d said yes.

The memory returned, even as he tried to shove it away. When he asked Oliver if he would get him another pint, he’d said yes, too.

Then, he’d abandoned him.

7:41

Apparently, this was just what happened to Michael. He found someone he liked, thought they liked him, too, then was left behind when something better turned up.

It had happened many times before, and would probably happen many times in the future.

Michael bit hard on the inside of his cheek, hoping the pain would chase away the monumental feeling of loneliness that threatened to overtake him. He should just go back to his dorm. It was pathetic to wait out here for this long. He should -

7:44

“Michael!”

He looked up and saw you running toward him, your cheeks flushed as you pushed through the crowd. When you finally stopped in front of him, panting from exertion, you grimaced slightly. He braved himself for what you would say.

“I am so, so sorry I’m late!” You said breathlessly. “My mum called, and she could talk for hours and hours if she wanted, and I tried to tell her I had to leave, but she wouldn’t…”

You half-sighed, half-groaned, rubbing your hands over your face. “And then I left my phone in my room and I couldn’t tell you I was on my way, so…”

Michael stared at you blankly as you continued to explain. He had almost completely resigned himself to the fact that you weren’t coming. But here you were.

Not only had you actually come, but you had ran to him. You were trying so hard to make him see that it wasn’t intentional. You… you were still talking.

“It’s fine,” he said, halting your babbling. “I understand.”

Your smile of relief was quite possibly the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

He laughed in awe, then tried to play it off. “My mum doesn’t know when to shut up, either.”

You laughed with him and grabbed his hand. “Still, I’m so sorry. You’ve been waiting here, probably bored out of your mind, and…”

“Nah,” he shrugged, “it’s all forgotten now.” Indeed, he could hardly remember the panicked train of thought he’d been on for the last half hour. “Thank you - for coming, I mean.”

You smiled again. “Of course! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Without giving him time to respond, you pulled him into the pub, both of you now laughing. “Since I was late, I’m paying!”

#michael Gavey #Michael Gavey fic #Michael Gavey Drabble #Michael Gavey imagine #Drabble #ewan mitchell

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brooooswriting · 3 months

Note

Do you think you could do a part two to the tutors to lovers leighton fic absolutely loved it 😍 no pressure though xx

Tutors to lovers 2

“Y/n y/m/n y/l/n” your mothers voice suddenly rang.

Gosh you were fucked.

You and Leighton quickly pulled away, trying to fix whatever you could before turning to your mom. “Mom, what are you already doing here?” You asked hectically, your voice wavering.

“I should be asking you that. What are you doing here making out with that blondie? This is the reason you’re failing y/n” she said, her voice harsh as she took a step towards you. You were used to them being disappointed in you but it wasn’t often that they said it out loud like that. Leightons phone rang again and you gave her a nod to signal that it was okay if she left. She was reluctant but still did as it was her father calling.

“Mom please, she’s to only re-“

“No! This is not ok y/n and we are going to talk about it once your father is here. I am very disappointed in you” you sighed and gave her a nod. By now you were happy that Leighton left, unknown to you she could still hear every word your mother said. Luckily other students and their parents filled the room before your dad came. “We are going to sit down. Your father will join soon” your mother said making you nod and walk up to your place.

Not long after the blonde came into the room followed by her parents. You could feel your mom’s eyes on her, an annoyed look on her face when she realized that the blonde would sit next to you. Her parents gave you a warm smile and greeted you with a hello which you quickly returned. Leighton send you a comforting smile, shifting so her thigh was touching yours to give you some comfort. A couple of minutes later your father joined, followed by some whispering between your parents and then a disappointed look from your dad. It was obvious that she told him what she walked into making this weekend an even bigger hell. Throughout the whole lecture your parents nagged you. ‘Why didn’t you know what?’ ‘Why didn’t you say that?’ ‘This was literally so easy’ ‘Didn’t you learn anything?’ And even if you said something they played it down, ‘your sister was able to do that in 9th grade’

Leighton in contrast was extremely proud of you, it may have taken a while but you finally understood the topic. “You did great” she whispered into your ear, her hand finding yours for a moment. This interaction alone gave you new energy to deal with your parents and their disgusting behavior. Once the lesson ended it was time for lunch in the cafeteria, another nightmare of yours.

“So, do you have any friends?” Your dad asked, even though it was more rhetorical you decided to answer.

“Yes dad, I do. I’m not some weirdo” you walked in front of them, leading them towards the cafeteria. As soon as all three of you had food, you walked to your usual table. On the way there you stopped at Lila’s, caneens, Willows, Jenna’s and some others just to show your parents that you had a lot of friends. You couldn’t help the smile that came onto your face when you saw your usual table, Whitney, Bela, Kimberly and obviously Leighton, sitting there with an annoyed look on their face. Each of them trying to tune out their parents.

“Those are your friends?” Your mother’s voice was clearly portraying her emotions which made you sigh again. Probably the 100th time today. You gave them a nod and settled next to Whitney, opposite from Leighton.

“Oh, you sat next to Leighton in math just now right?” Henry asked once he looked at you, a friendly smile on his face. You smiled back and nodded at him.

“Yeah, I’m y/n. She’s actually the only reason I’m passing that class, she’s so smart” you send both of them a smile before pushing your food around. Normally you were more than happy with cafeteria food when it was build your own pasta bowl day, but your mother had made a comment about your weight just before lunch.

Leighton send you a quick text asking if you were alright as you didn’t eat, her face full of concern as she looked up at you. You only gave her a nod with the best smile you could muster.

“You shouldn’t wear this top, it looks terrible” your mother suddenly said making everybody at the table look at you. You only gave her a nod, to scared that you’d cry if you talked, before standing up and leaving the room. The blonde waited for a moment before excusing herself ‘to get another water’ but it was no use. She couldn’t find you anywhere and when she texted you, you told her that you’d be back shortly.

And you were. Fifteen minutes later you came back, dressed differently than before and new layer of makeup on your face. You sat back down giving everybody a small smile, trying to act as if nothing had happened. But all of them knew, they weren’t stupid and they wished that they could do something. “We should go. We have another event planned” your parents said and stood up, giving you an expecting look which made you stand up too.

“I’ll see you later” you told the rest turning back to your parents “I’ll just use the restrooms real quick” they nodded and told you that they would be waiting in the room of the event, not caring about walking with you. You sighed once you entered the bathroom, happy that it was empty as it gave you some space. You’d have never thought that your parents could make you feel even worse than they already did all those years, but here they were destroying everything new you had and humiliating you in front of your friends, and even worse Leighton. As you stared into the mirror new tears formed in your eyes. You hectically wiped them away when the door open just to reveal the blonde.

“Hey, I just wanted to see how you’re doing” she said as you turned towards her, your back against the sink with your hands resting on top of the cold surface.

“I’m good, thank you” it was a good lie, everybody would have believed it. With a family like that you had gotten good at faking and lying. But after spending hours on hours cramped up in a dorm or in the library there was no way that you could lie to Leighton, especially after you tried many times just to stop the tutoring. The problem was that, even though she could see past the lie, she didn’t know what to say. All those years she had complained about her family and sure sometimes they could be annoying and rude, especially her mother but they were nothing against yours. Plus, her mother showed that she could change, she was happy for Leighton when she came out and supported her when it came to the decision that she wasn’t joining kappa.

She looked at you for a moment before deciding that there was nothing she could say that would even out what your parents said. So she instead leaned in to kiss you, pulling you closer to give you comfort. It helped, a lot. The closeness to her gave you new energy, you just had to wait until your parents left again so you could be happy again. It was as easy as that. That’s atleast what you tried to tell yourself. She only pulled away when there were footsteps in front of the door. “My parents want to invite you and your family to have dinner with us tonight, we are going to the fanciest place in town. So I’ll come over and help you choose an outfit when our parents go back to the hotel ok?”

You didn’t have it in you to have a discussion, so you only nodded. “I should go now before they kill me” you pressed a kiss to her cheek and went to the building next door, trying to find your parents in the sea of people. Sadly, you found them rather quick and sat down.

“The Murray’s found us” your dad started the moment your ass touched the chair, “they invited us to dinner. Great. As if we haven’t already spend enough time with them.” You decided not to say anything, everything you said they’d use against you.

“We want you to break up with that blonde” your mother added moments later making you freeze.

“What? No way. Why would I?”

“Because she’s bad for you. You’re failing” you could only shake your head, it amazed you how they would never listen to you.

“She’s the reason I’m not failing, mother. She tutors me and now I’m got from an E to a C and the prof said that if I keep up the work I’ll easily get a B and he’d give me some extra work that will get me an A. Than I’d have a gpa from 3.8. What more do you want?” You argued. There was nothing else you could do to please them any more. You’d never be enough for their standards.

“Don’t talk to your mother that way” you couldn’t believe it. Of course that was the only thing he heard, not the fact that you had a great GPA or the fact that you found a smart, loving partner. No, only that you weren’t 100% nice to your mom.

4 hours later, you walked into the restaurant immediately seeing the table filled with your friends and their parents. You were clad in a suit like outfit that Leighton had chosen, the colors matching what she was wearing. “Hello everybody” you said and sat down between the blonde and Kimberly’s mother.

“Ah, great to see you y/n. Where are your parents? Still waiting for the valley?” Belas dad asked, receiving an elbow from her mother.

“Uhm, no. They said that they couldn’t make it, sorry” you mumbled, fumbling around with the sleeves of your top. It was embarrassing but you felt like you would disappoint the rest if you didn’t show up.

“Well, I for one am very happy that you’re here. You’re such a nice young lady” Kimberly’s mother said, her hand squeezing your shoulder in a comforting manner. The rest of the table nodded in agreement making you blush a bit.

“Thank you very much Mrs. Finkel, that means a lot to me” the woman talked with you for a bit before you guys decided to order. While you waited you talked to everybody at the table, it felt like a big family. Something you had always wished for. Just as Evette asked you something you saw your parents walk in. And sit at another table. You swallowed heavily before quickly focusing on Evette again, hoping that nobody else noticed them.

“So, y/n, any suitors?” She concluded before looking at you expectantly. You opened your mouth, unsure of what to say until you felt leightons had squeeze your thigh.

“Actually, I’m dating Leighton” you gave them a smile as you intertwined your hands together and placed them on your thigh. PDA wasn’t her strong suit and you were fine with that.

“Oh that’s so great. Whitney, why don’t you have somebody like her?” Her mom said causing everybody at the table to giggle. You collected all your courage and looked over at the Murray’s who gave you a warm smile, your shoulders immediately relaxing. You turned your head further to look at the blonde who was already looking at you. You only smiled at each other, forgetting everybody around you for a moment.

Once dinner was finished and paid, all of you walked out. Running into a, to you unknown, tradition. Family pictures. “Alright, Leigh, come on. Fix your hair quickly. We want to take the picture” Henry said, getting his phone out already.

“Oh, here. I can take the picture” you extended your hand, but never received the phone.

“No, you can’t. You’re on the picture. You’re family now” her mom took your extended hand and pulled you next to your girlfriend who smiled brightly. You positioned yourself slightly behind her with a hand on her lower back, while her mother stood next to you. All of you smiled brightly while Bela took the photo.

“Take another one just of them, they look so good tonight” her mother said as both her parents detached from you. A small laugh left you, before you scotched a bit closer to her and soon after you could hear the click of the camera.

“Wait, not that quick. I want one with a bit of action” Bela said, her brows raised which made you and her parents laugh while Leighton hid her face in your neck. If they were your parents you’d probably also be embarrassed but like this is it was quite funny.

“A bit of action” you mocked quietly, causing the blonde to laugh and leave your neck. Instead she turned towards you so she could look at you. Unsure of what to do you just looked at each other until you both smiled. You decided to just take the shot as now everybody was watching you, you quickly leaned in and kissed her softly until you heard the click again.

“So cute” Kimberly’s mom said, earning an agreeing hum from her daughter.

“Let me look” Leighton demanded, scrolling through the hundreds of pictures her roommate took. She stopped at a specific one, smiling slightly. It was the moment you just smiled at each other, you couldn’t lie it was a really sweet and amazing picture which you’d definitely set as your background.

“Alright ladies. The car is there” her father said, opening the door for his wife. They were really cute, you couldn’t deny that.

“Oh, I think I forgot my lipliner inside. I’ll be back in a second” you asked if you should go for her out with her but she denied, saying that you could already get in the car. You waited outside, you felt like it was impolite to already get in. When she came out a couple of minutes later, you opened the door for her and then scooted in after her.

“Thank you for the evening and the driving, that was really nice. And it was really great to meet both of you” you said as all of you got out of the car. They really took you in today.

“We can only say the same. We are sorry for how the rest of the day went, but we are happy that you ate with us” they both hugged their daughter before hugging you. “We are going to the hotel now, sleep well.” Both of them said their goodbyes before disappearing, leaving you and Leighton on the street in front of the college.

“Wanna sleep over tonight? My roommate is sleeping at the same hotel as their parents” you asked. You had wrapped your arm around her shoulder as you walked back. She immediately agreed, a quiet room with you sounded better than her loud dorm.

It didn’t take long for you two to settle on the couch after changing into some sweats and a hoodie. There was no way to fight of the smile that crept onto your face when you saw her wearing your clothes. Getting them back was out of question though. You were cuddling on the couch while watching some random movie when there was a knock on your door. Reluctantly you both pulled away so you could open the door. “Mom? Dad?” You asked confused to why they were here after leaving you the whole evening.

“Hello. We just wanted to say goodbye” your father said, not really looking into your eyes. He was more focused on watching something behind you.

“And we wanted to say sorry. We treated you poorly and shouldn’t have said the things we said” your mother added. They weren’t a hundred percent honest but it was more than you imagined.

“Well, thank you. Have a save ride home” you said unsure of how to react. You definitely weren’t going to say that it was okay cause it definitely wasn’t.

“Goodbye y/n, goodbye Leighton” that was what really shocked you. Them saying goodbye to her was a mystery, a couple of hours ago they wanted you to break up with her. Confused you settled back on your previous spot on the couch.

“What was that?” You asked, your brows furrowed.

“Well, who knows” you immediately recognized a weird pitch in her voice. You studied her face carefully before deciding that something was off.

“What did you do?” She grinned up at you guiltily.

“I may have had a talk with them at the restaurant. And before you get mad at me, I couldn’t let them treat you like this. You’re such a Valuable acquisition to all of our lives and they were making you feel bad about your whole life. It sucked and they shouldn’t be able to do it without consequences” she explained, sitting up so she could look at you. She could be overprotective of the people she loved and she was kinda scared that she’d scare you off with it, but she was utterly wrong. You couldn’t help but admire her.

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you love” you pushed her chin up with two fingers before pressing multiple kisses to her lips. She really was the whole package and you wouldn’t change her for anything. “Nobody ever made me feel so good about myself” you added with a smile before standing up and extending your hand. “Come on, let’s go to bed” you smirked. She was up faster than you could realize, pulling you into your bedroom.

Gosh, you were so in love with her.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #leighton murray x reader #renee rapp x reader #tslocg x reader

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apomaro-mellow · 8 months

Text

Matchmaking Harringtons 2

Diane wanted to ask more about Steve's interaction with the cashier, but she remembered being a youngin. The more questions she asked, the more Steve would close up. She didn't know what her husband had said to get things started, but clearly they needed a different angle.

She said as much that evening as she and Jonas got ready for bed. He protested, as she knew he would, but it was her turn now.

So right away the next day, she returned to the mall, hoping Steve's intended would be there. And to her luck, he was.

"Hello, hi", she waved as she approached the counter.

"Hi. Did you need help finding anything?"

"Oh no, not really", Diane said. "You see...", she looked to his name tag. "Eddie, I don't know if you remember but yesterday my husband and I were here with our son, Steve?"

Eddie's cheeks got red and his mouth turned to a straight line. Diane would take that as a good sign.

"We really want Steve to find someone special", Diane said in a low voice, leaning in a bit. "Now I don't know what my husband told you, but I'm here to give you a bit of advice."

"Advice....on getting a date...with your son?", Eddie said slowly as if speaking to an alien.

"Yes. Now here's our number. Call today, we'll make sure he answers. And ask him out."

"Your son? On a date?"

"You've got to be assertive, really make use of this...", Diane gestured to his whole being, "alternative look you've got going. Steve's never dated anyone like you so I'm sure he'll get a thrill having a taste of rebellion."

Eddie smirked as he took the paper with the number written on it. "Getting permission to be rebellious kind of takes the fun out of it. Uh, where should I take him?"

"Some place where he'll get a real rush of danger", Diane suggested.

"A dive bar?"

"He's not of drinking age yet and I am still his mother. I've got to act the part." Diane had definitely drunk underage, but her parents didn't know about it. She was pretty certain Steve had partaken while hanging with his friends. But as long as she didn't see it, she could play dumb. "Where do you and your friends normally hang around?"

"Dive bars", Eddie answered.

Diane pursed her lips as she thought of the best course of action. "I've got it. You're going to say you're taking him out to dinner. But when you pick him up, you'll actually be taking him out to a movie."

Eddie was silent as he did the mental math. Tell the parents one thing, but do another, thus the rush of rebellion. Dinner was public and respectable. But two young folks could fool around in a dark theater. It was honestly something he might try to do.

"Okay, I asked your hubbie yesterday if this is entrapment and I just need to ask again."

"Our Steve is a good boy. He...just has trouble holding onto someone. We don't know if it's him or the girls. We just want him to find someone special."

"...How special? Like, should I be making room on my hand?", he asked, wiggling his ring covered fingers.

"Not that special. Just enough to get him on the right track."

Eddie looked down to the number, then this strange woman again. He braced his hands against the counter and took in a deep breath. "Alright. I'm a gambling man. My break's at noon. I'll call him then."

"Wonderful. And whatever you do, don't tell him that we came to you."

"I don't even know how to begin that conversation", Eddie admitted.

-------------------

Diane was staring at the phone like she was the one waiting for a date to call. Jonas and Steve were watching a game on the tv and she was practically guarding the phone, using dirty dishes as an excuse. When it started to ring, she bit her lip to keep from smiling too much.

"Steve, sweetie, can you get that? My hands are wet."

"Got it", Steve said, picking up the phone on the third ring. "Hello, Harrington residence."

Diane was pretty much just pretending to do the dishes at this point, eavesdropping on Steve's side of the conversation the best she could without looking obvious. She fought the urge to jump for joy when she heard Steve confirm that he would be seeing the caller this Friday at 7.

"Alright. See you then", Steve said, the cord twirled around his finger. "Bye."

He hung up the phone, a dreamy smile on his face and Diane knew that look for sure but she reigned in her own expression. She was about to ask but Jonas beat her to it.

"Who was on the phone?", he called out.

"Oh, um, it was...", Steve was clearly debating how much to tell them, if anything. He took a breath as he decided to trust them. "It was that guy from the music place. He wants to grab a bite this weekend."

"Grab a bite, huh?", Jonas sat up a bit in his chair.

"Yes. Just a little something, we'll probably go to Benny's or whatever", Steve crossed his arms like he always did when he was trying to downplay something.

He then quickly excused himself to go up to his room and Diane dried her hands off for real. She went over to Jonas and nudged him, then nodded to the stairs.

"What woman? I'm not psychic."

"Go and listen. I bet you anything he's calling a friend right now to tell about the date."

"Are we really dropping eaves on our son now?"

"Go and listen!", she whispered urgently.

Taking his sweet time, Jonas got up and crept up the stairs. Steve's door was closed of course, but when he put an ear to the door, he could hear him walking about the room and talking to someone on the line in his room.

When he figured he'd heard enough, he came back downstairs to report to his wife.

"Well?"

"He's talking to that one girl he never dated, Robin?"

"About Eddie?"

Jonas nodded. Apparently the other day, Steve thought he didn't make the best impression on him when buying the music. He thought he came off as boring compared to Eddie. So he was surprised to get his call.

Diane couldn't help but be a little smug. Now the ball was rolling.

-----------------------

Saturday night was here and at 7 o'clock sharp, the Harringtons heard a loud engine enter their driveway. Steve came downstairs but instead of going to the door, went to the bathroom and did a final check in the mirror as the bell rang.

Jonas opened the door and got a load of date night Eddie. The ripped jeans were still there. But now instead of the uniform shirt and name tag, he was wearing a t-shirt that Jonas was just guessing had album art on it and a ratty denim vest.

"Evening Mr. Harrington. Is Steve ready yet?"

"I am", Steve said, appearing behind his dad.

"You two have fun at the diner. Have him back by 11", Diane said as she saw them off.

Jonas was oddly quiet the whole time. Diane just waited him out, knowing he'd announce any opinions he had once they were alone. In fact the moment he closed the door, he turned to her.

"How sure are we about Eddie?"

"Oh here we go. Were we so sure about Chloe? Or Mary Lee?"

"I just thought he might clean up a little more for a date, that's all."

"The important thing is that Steve likes him."

They spent their evening, drinking some wine and watching a movie. But they made sure to be up in their room before it got too late. They wanted the boys to have just a smidge of privacy when they returned.

All the lights were off when they heard that roaring engine come back at 11:15.

"They're late", Jonas said. "That's a good sign."

Diane smiled. They were both listening hard for any sort of sound that might tell them how the night went. They heard the front door open. It was about two minutes before it actually closed. Another good sign. Steve tiptoed up the stairs but in the quiet of the night and them holding their breath, he was easily heard.

The door to his room closed and Diane gripped Jonas' arm tight. "Do you think it went well?"

"Are you gonna go knock on his door and ask? Or should we tap his phone line this time?" Jonas chuckled at his wife's pout. "We'll hear about it in due time. Good night, Di."

"Good night."

They both settled in, officially this time. If things kept going well like this, they'd be inviting Eddie over to dinner soon.

Part 4

Don't worry, we're gonna get some actual steddie focus soon. And Jonas still needs to warm up to Eddie all the way.

Tag Team

@tartarusknight @swimmingbirdrunningrock @estrellami-1 @potato-of-the-lord @dragonmama76 @m-owo-n @sticknpokelightningbolt @somegirlsomewhere @tinyplanet95 @samsoble @runniem

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #fanfiction

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normal-internet-user · 1 year

Note

could you do a oneshot with rise donnie and gn reader where around other people they’re always fighting and never get along but in secret they’re dating and get along perfectly? love your writing <3

Yes. Just. Yes- Also tysm! I am literally so happy people enjoy my writing.

ACT

♡~~♡~~♡~~♡~~♡

Summary: You and Donnie decided to keep your relashonship a secret, so around his brothers you act like you can't stand each other.

Warnings: very minor swearing

Requested: Yep!

GN Reader!

.........................................

"Here we go." Leo groaned as the bickering from the kitchen grew closer.

"-least I'm smart enough to understand basic math."

"Ok, number one, it wasn't 'BaSiC MaTh', it was advanced calculus, and number two, at least I'm able to comprehend the concept of multi-universal travel."

Donnie laughed bitterly, "Scoff! (Name), we have discussed this. The idea of multi-universal travel is such an impossible concept-"

"YOU INTRODUCED THE CONCEPT TO ME YOU-"

"Ok, you two. That's enough, don't make me get the Getting Along shirt." Raph scowled at the two of you.

You crossed your arms, and glared at Donnie, with him scowling at you in turn. You had to admit, the two of you were incredible actors. Of course you didn't actually hate each other, this was simply theatrics to throw his family off the scent of your relashonship.

The two of you had agreed to keep your dating statis on the down-low, knowing that his brothers could be a bit... essentric.

In actuality, the two of you were quite sweet to each other when you were alone, having no need to keep up the act.

Raph sighed, "You two need to learn to get along. Maybe some time in the Lab would do you guy's some good." He then muttered, "And then we wouldn't have to listen to you argue."

"Fine." Donnie scoffed, then he looked at you, "But don't move anything. If you try to reorginize my toolbox again I swear to the pizza supreme-"

"Relax, smartass, I won't move your stuff."

The two of you began to walk to the Lab, Donnie continuing to glare at you, "That's what you said last time, then you put my blowtorch on shelf #7 instead of shelf #3."

You rolled your eyes, "A small mistake that has only occured once."

The Lab doors closed behind you, and you kissed Donnie on the cheek, "And I apologize."

Donnie cleared his throat, his face darker with his blush, "Well, I suppose you can be forgiven."

You nodded with a small smile, then flipped over a chalkboard to reveal the blueprints and plans for another A.I., a small project you two had been working on based on S.H.E.L.D.O.N's new found loneliness.

"So I was thinking that maybe, our current issue lies in the motherboards programming." you started, "Perhaps, with the proper examination, we could trace the bugs back to a faulty motherboard."

Donnie hummed, looking over the motherboard that lay among the other parts scattered on the table, "Good, observation my dear. I'll give it a quick check just to make sure."

You nodded, turning back to the chalkboard to double check the equations on the blueprints. The only noise in the room was the buzz of Donnie's goggles behind you, and you frowned.

The two of you worked best with music in the backround, this much silence was distracting in a way.

"Would you mind some music, Love?"

You and Donnie blinked at each other, then began giggling. You had moments like that often, where your minds just seemed to meld together.

Before either of you could say a thing, however, the loud voice of Leo cut through the air, "WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!"

You and Donnie whipped your heads around, your gazes meeting the incredulous ones of his three brothers.

Leo looked horrified at the concept of you and Donnie getting along. And "Love" ???

Raph and Mikey looked at the two of you, confusion evident on their features.

"But- I thought you two hated... each other..?" Mikey said, confused.

You looked at Donnie, the two of you having a silent conversation. He sighed and looked at his brothers, "Well, the jig is, as they say, up. We're dating. surprise!" you giggled as he made the jazz hands gesture, and Leo's mouth opened wider.

"Woah, woah- wait. wait wait WAIT. You two, are dating? when did that happen?"

Donnie looked at you, signaling it was your turn, "Uhm- like, last year? sometime in August."

"WHAT?"

You chuckled, and Donnie sighed, "Alright, we have work to do, so, out out. Shoo!"

Donnie pushed his protesting brothers out the door, promising to answer questions later, then all but slammed the door in their face.

He turned to you, his cheeks once again darker with his blush.

"Well, at least we don't have to pretend to hate each other anymore."

Donnie laughed, shaking his head as he sat back down, "You realize they won't leave us alone for like, the next 10 years, correct?"

You nodded and pulled your swivel chair to sit next to him, "I am well aware that's a possible outcome of the situation."

With a sigh, Donnie layed his head on your shoulder, and you smiled. Yes, perhaps the jig was indeed up, but at least now, you could burn that stupid script.

.........................................

There you go Anon! srry the ending kinda sucks, but I really enjoyed writing this one!

#tmnt #x reader #tmnt x reader #rottmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie x reader #tmnt 2018 #tmnt 2018 x reader #donnie x gn!reader #gn reader #rise!donnie x reader

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capybaraonabicycle · 29 days

Note

How many holes does a straw have?

@i-send-you-random-asks

(asking you specifically cause i think you'd have an interesting answer)

Ohhh, yes, this is my question! Thank you, dear!

Short answer:

That depends on your definition of 'hole'. Topology says 1.

Long answer:

Since this depends on your definition of hole, I can think of 5 answers that can be rationalised and make some flavour of sense:

(@marvellouspinecone helped me with some of these a while back and might have additional info, so I am going to credit her here.)

0 holes

You can define a hole as something that makes an object broken, or at least as something you have to put into a finished object AFTER construction. This could be something like a tear in the fabric or a hole you have drilled into the 'wall' of the straw. Ergo, a functioning straw does not have any holes. It looks exactly as it was designed to be.

1 hole

This is the math answer. As said in the infamous post, a straw is 'topologically equivalent' to a torus. To be precise, it is homotopic to a torus.

First question: What is a torus?

Answer: Basically a donut. It looks like this:

[ID: image of a torus. It looks like a donut with a checkered surface. end ID]

Second question: What does 'homotopic' mean?

Answer: This is where it gets math-y technical, but in a way it means that we can continuously transform either of the objects into the other - in a nice way.

Imagine, our straw was made of super-clay: we can't rip it or glue it together at any point, but we can pull and push it together however we like, even changing its density. So we could stretch some parts to become very big and shrink others a lot. We can also bend and twist it a little.

So, we take our straw and we push it together in the direction of its length until the very long straw becomes short like a ring. And then we pull on the 'walls' to make them nice and fat and round. Tada! We have made a donut!

(We can do this in the other direction, too, pull the torus (donut) out long and then make the walls thin - then we get a straw.)

The thing about such homotopies is, they preserve the number of holes an object has. Hence, the straw has exactly as many holes as the torus (donut)!

Third question: How many holes does a torus have?

Answer: In topology, we have something called the Euler characteristic. It is a number that gets assigned to surfaces based on their properties (you can calculate it via triangulation but let's not go there.) A sphere (ball) has Euler characteristic 2. Each hole in a surface lowers the Euler characteristic by 2. The torus (is an orientable surface and) has Euler characteristic 0, so it has one hole.

(If you'd like to have the more exact explanation, it is attaching handles to a surface that reduce the Euler characteristic by 2 and add a hole. And a torus is homotopic to a sphere with one handle attached.)

Thus, a straw has one hole.

2 holes

If we define a hole as an indentation in an object that allows us (or something else) to enter a certain distance into the object, a straw has two holes. One on the top and one on the bottom.

This definition actually makes sense, since we call holes we dig into the Earth 'holes'. In the mathematic sense, they aren't, they're indentations that can (with the super clay idea) be flattened out. But with these holes we don't care about whether it will lead somewhere or just have a floor somewhere at the bottom, you can go in, so it's a hole.

If we forget about the fact that the straw leads 'one hole into the other', so like, if we were very small (or the straw very big) and we would merely walk across the outside and look into the holes, we would find two holes on the straw, one on the bottom, one on the top. If we don't enter, we wouldn't even know they were connected.

With this definition you have to be a little bit careful about when you start calling something a hole. I would reckon there needs to be a certain percentage-relation between depth of hole vs circumference of entrance to hole before you call it such. And maybe also something about size and shape and sharpness of edge - like, you wouldn't call a valley a hole, probably? But like, the straw fulfils the requirements of this hole easily, and twice.

3 holes

Okay, this one is merely for fun and play, don't get mad at me. But, say we define a hole kinda like above, as an entrance to the inside of an object. And we further define hole as any way through an object. Then we end up with something I like to call a 'hole-interval' through the straw.

So, we have one hole (rim at the top) to get into the straw, one hole (the straw, basically) to get through the straw and a third whole (rim at the bottom) to get out of the straw.

This is nonsense, obviously, but I like it, because there is a very nice mathematical feeling to it, resembling a closed interval. A closed interval [a, b] is just one object, but it has three parts that are often regarded independently of the others: the open interval (a, b) in the middle and the edge points {a} and {b}. For example, if you were to test the continuity of a function, you would often regard these three cases separately. So, in a way, there is beauty in regarding the 'three holes' of the straw as separate as well.

Infinitely many holes

This one is kinda nonsense as well, but I like the implications. If we define a hole as any instance of an object that is part of a tunnel through the object - I am using the word 'tunnel' here because actually, that tunnel would be the one hole in this case but for the sake of the definition, it can't be - then a straw is an infinite number of holes, stacked on top of each other. It is important to notice here that a hole cannot possibly have any depth in this case, just like the top and bottom holes in the last case.

This leads to two likely interpretations:

A) We have a hole at any real number (if we consider the straw as an interval along its length again). Then the straw would be made from uncountably infinitely many holes - which I think is an awesome concept.

B) We have a hole at any rational number. This would only give us a countably infinite number of holes in the straw and since Q is dense in R (don't worry about what that means), it would LOOK like the whole straw is made of holes, when in reality most of the straw would actually NOT HAVE ANY holes in it. Now isn't that the best thing you have heard all day?

And the best part : By this definition, not only would any straw be made of infinitely many holes, but any object with a hole in it would have infinitely many holes in it. Remember, for this to make sense, we needed to have holes with 0 depth. But any hole in reality has some depth. Punch a hole into a piece of paper: BAM infinitely many holes stacked on top of each other! :D

What have we learnt?

The most likely answers are 1 hole or 2 holes, depending on whether you take a more mathematical or more language-oriented approach. I think those were the two opinions most vocal in the original post as well.

But if you want to have fun, you can come up with very nice concepts and definitions to count holes by that give you a range of correct answers. Just make sure to think of the implications :)

#Thank you for this question <3 #I think you can tell I had a blast #On a related note: me and my friends were talking about the euler characteristic of the Earth the other day #Bc in meteorology you often consider the Earth as a torus #But with all the tunnel systems it is more likely to be an n-torus with n the number of holes and n being a VERY large number #Instead of - what you would initially guess perhaps - a sphere #math

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enigma-im · 7 months

Text

Don't Stop 'Till You Get Enough

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Alien x F!Human Warnings: alien sex, space force, weird alien sex, sex cocoon, zero gravity sex

Word Count: 5,599

Brother works at Space Force, so it's not uncommon for aliens to stop by. Though this one is a bit cute.

------------------------------------

I can only stare at the tall dark figure hiding in my kitchen. It seems that's all the figure can do as well. Trapped in a standoff. My heart races a mile a minute, never expecting to have company so late at night. I slowly reach for the light switch, careful with any sudden movements. As the room becomes clear I finally see what's standing on the other side of the kitchen island.

"Oh," I gawk. Before me is an incredibly tall alien, equipped with long lanky limbs, odd head-shape, and spikes barely visible behind their back. An honest-to-God alien is standing in my kitchen. "I'll take it you are looking for my brother," I ask as I casually walk over to the fridge.

It's the alien's turn to gawk," Uh, yes. Is he here?"

I look through the fridge for the pitcher of sweet tea, spotting it on the top shelf. "No, he is on his way back from his friend's place though. Should be in within the hour if you wanted to wait around. Up to you."

I set the pitcher on the table and then reach for a cup on the hook. I look up to the alien as I pour, hinting at him to answer.

He stumbles," Right, if that's ok with you. I'd hate to impose."

I wave him off," No worries. It's part of the gig living here. You aren't the first or the last alien I'll see around here. Though you are here very late." I sip from my cup, lounging against the counter.

"So sorry, It was very important. Otherwise, I would have waited until morning. I know how long humans sleep but I believe I got the math a bit wrong. Do you always sleep at night or every other day," He rambles. I smile into my cup, he's cute.

"Every night, though it's a give and take on what time of the night," I shrug," ten at night is one of those give and take times. I was actually heading to bed now."

He startles at the answer," Oh then I am so sorry! Please, don't let me keep you. I know how important sleep is for your kind."

I snicker," Don't be sorry. You will never find me passing up an opportunity to speak with an alien while in my PJs." He leans over and looks me from head to toe, eyes wide and mouth parted. Am I being checked out right now? I poke a foot forward to show off my slippers.

"Well you look professional enough for me," He shrugs," you wouldn't mind keeping me company then?"

"It would truly be my pleasure," I hang at the end waiting for a name. He doesn't pick up on it. "I'm Liya, by the way," I prompt instead.

"Hello, Liya," he practically purrs," My name is Pavo L'tun'ku, 2nd in command of human relations aboard S.L. Quain."

"Oh, I didn't know we were doing all that," I half tease. I straight up, setting my cup down," I am Liya Woodard, in charge of the distribution of goods across the entirety of the USA." I relax and reach for my cup with a smirk," How was that?"

He leans onto his forearms," Little too formal but I appreciate the effort."

"Oh hush, I was just coping you," I joke back.

We get to chatting for a bit before my brother makes his way home. Pavo goes regal at his entrance, as does my brother. It's like watching someone talk to the president. I could almost see the red tape go up for appropriate interspecies conversation that aligns with government protocol.

"Woodard," Pavo greets," Excuse this interruption but your expertise is needed. There is an issue regarding a certain rebel group at one of our events."

"Very well," Thomas answers all professional, it almost makes me laugh, " give me just a moment to change and we will leave post haste."

Thomas scoots past and quickly bolts up the steps. I look over to Pavo who has relaxed a little.

"Excuse this interruption but your expertise is needed," I mock Pavo, even standing the way he did. He glares over at me half-heartedly.

"Shut up," He smiles. I laugh.

Thomas is quick, already downstairs before I can chat with Pavo a little more. To my dismay. Thomas grabs his keys from the hook and looks back at me.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Uh," He looks around," Be good?"

"Be good? You be good," I scoff. He rolls his eyes before heading for the door. Pavo looks around and then points at me.

"Be good," he mimics Thomas.

"See you around, Pavo," I tiredly wave. He gives me a big ole alien smile full of teeth before heading out. I smile to myself, feeling a little giddy. I head to bed, not before thinking back.

He really was cute.

It's a while before I hear anything of Pavo. It's surprising when I do hear about him through my brother. We are sitting in for dinner, which is rare, and we are discussing our day when he pauses and glares at me.

Pointing his fork at me he says," You ruined my professional relationship!"

I gawk, pointing at myself in question.

"Yes, you," he chuckles," Pavo won't shut up about you."

I jokingly twirl my hair as I lean forward on the table, "Do you, like, think that he, like, likes me?" I say in my best high schooler voice.

"ew,," he cringes, reaching over and stealing from my plate," For making me hear that."

"rude," I answer, missing stealing back my food by a hair," So what's up with Pavo, why is he bugging you?"

He sighs," It's every day. He thinks he is being casual about it but the man is super obvious. I don't know what voodoo you put on him but the guy is smitten. Before I tell him anything I wanted to make sure you are cool with meeting him again."

I snicker," is big brother setting me up on a date?"

He fake gags," Disgusting. Horrific, downright awful. Consider it this way, I'm trying to keep Pavo out of my office so I can work."

"and keep him in my pants, got it," I nod. He pretends to vomit, though it looks very convincing.

"Nope, conversation over," He stacks up his dishes and heads to the kitchen," This never happened!"

I bite back a laugh," I appreciate you butting into my love life but I'd appreciate if you didn't"

"Well keep your love life out of my office," He yells back. He comes back into the dining room, holding the doorframe. "He is coming over tomorrow for a meeting, and he may have some extra time because he is getting here an hour early because I may or may not have given him the wrong time. I'm not saying I did, but you do owe me two tickets for my movie date next week with Rebecca."

I sigh," Send me the info and I'll get it to you." I want to argue but the idea of seeing Pavo again is too grand.

"Nice, you have dishes right," He runs off before I can answer," Thank you!"

Such a putz, but I can't focus on that. It seems I have a mini-date tomorrow.

I dress midway between casual and date night. It was a very hard combo to pull off but I'm working with the 'hot but cool' angle. However, none of this could matter because he is an alien who hasn't a clue what is considered "trying to look cute" flirting is. Ugh, this is hard.

I wait in the living room, trying to seem as relaxed as possible. I even practice little greetings in my head like an idiot. Thomas comes down the stairs in his service uniform, looking proper. It is interesting to think this wild teenager could grow up to be this proper young man, helping lead the charge in cross-universe communication with alien life.

"Hey, dipshit, he will be over in 10, stop looking so tense," He leans over the back of the couch and boops my nose.

Well, almost a proper young man.

The doorbell rings shortly after, and Thomas answers. I can hear Pavo from the living room and I can't help but get all giddy. I scold myself for the reaction, I had one conversation with the guy! Relax!

As I hear their voices near I stand from the couch, regretting the choice immediately. Stand when guests are over? It's not even technically my guest, but I guess it's polite.

Pavo rounds the corner and is now in sight. In the daylight, I can tell his body isn't black but a very dark purple. He doesn't have skin but a carapace, a hard shell protecting his body. He is very bug-like though he lacks any pinchers or antennae. His face is human-ish, his eyes are large, and his wide mouth. Spikes go along the back of his body, coming from his head and back. They are short but some stretch out long enough to bend and crick in different ways. It's almost like branches.

When Pavo sees me he pauses, eyes wide and a smile up his cheeks. He looks me over and with a jolt his spikes elongate, nearly catching Thomas in the face.

"Whoa," Thomas yelps.

"Hello again, Liya," Pavo greets, ignoring Thomas.

"Hello Pavo," I answer back," Long time no see."

"Long time indeed, I see you have upgraded from professional sleepwear," He teases.

"This old thing," I shrug," I think my oversized t-shirt works a bit better but I was told I may be entertaining guests today."

"you wouldn't mean me, would you," He asks, leaning against the couch. Behind him, I can see my brother miming choking, then pretending to stab himself with a knife. The drama queen.

"I'm going to set up," Thomas interjects into our conversation," Feel free to anything you want in the kitchen, just ask my sister here."

Pavo straightens," Oh, yes, thank you."

Thomas leaves us to our own devices, it feels like our chaperone left. I look Pavo over, watching the sun gleam off his shell. His uniform is interesting, bright white.

"Would you care for a drink," I break the silence.

"Yes please," He steps closer. I lead the way into the kitchen.

"Anything you want? I really don't know what would be edible for you," I ask, cringing a bit at the delivery.

"I was incredibly curious about the drink you had the other night, it smelled sweet," He answers, pointing to the fridge.

"Sweet tea," I ask, though it's pointless. How would he know the answer? "Let me grab you a little sample. Though a fair warning, it's incredibly sweet. Practically icing."

"Oh, even better," he takes a seat at the island as I grab a drink," I've been lured in with your human sugar. It's been incredible. I had those, umm, what's the name? The small brown bars with a wafer inside."

"Kit-kat or Twix," I ask as I pour a small glass. ," I ask

He clicks deep in his throat," Yes, that's it! The Kit bar." He grabs the glass I push to him, taking a small gulp timidly. In a moment he shoots back the whole thing. Setting the glass down he closes his eyes and savors the sweet syrup.

"Like it," I ask.

"Love it," He grins. Slowly opening his eyes he nudges the glass forward, "More, please?"

We chat a little between cups of tea, him chugging the rest of my full pitcher. He tells me about his home that he hasn't seen in years. I tell him about my life at college before I got my job. It's pleasant. If I didn't know any better though, I'd say his spikes we growing. About an hour later they had grown a few inches, making him look large and intimidating. Like some sort of tree monster outside my childhood window. Though that one was just an old oak while this one is a charming alien.

Thomas steals him away, not before Pavo extends an invite to his ship sometime. Invited onto an alien's ship, that sounds like a great start to some interspecies relations.

Thomas had managed to set up communication between Pavo and me. We chat on some app Thomas downloaded onto my phone. It's wonky and not the best but what's a girl to do? Pavo and I flirt a bit, though it never goes any deeper. Despite my best attempts, he just doesn't get into anything more sexual. I could be pushing too hard or their species just doesn't work that way. Maybe he doesn't even have sex?

Today though is the day to finally get on his ship. All the approval has been submitted- thank you, Thomas- and we begin a tour of his home away from home.

We meet at the airlock between his ship and the Space Hub for Earth. I'm escorted by some officers and we all greet each other on the bridge. When I see Pavo we both light up. His back branches are stretched out, looking truly like a tree now. He jerks a little as his spikes snap outwards tearing some of his uniform in the process. The officer next to me winces at the crack sound that comes softly from him. Almost like the quiet sound of someone popping their fingers.

"Hello, Liya," Pavo greets, grabbing my hand and giving a firm shake," I believe this is correct."

I shake his hand back," Little formal for friends but it works for now."

"Friends," he asks," are we friends?"

"For the time being," I hint. He smiles before greeting the two flanking me.

With that out of the way, I'm free to venture into the unknown. I feel like a pioneer, one of the few to venture into an alien's ship. I'm sure sometime in the future there will be museums for this sort of thing. 'Explore space right from earth' sign over a decommissioned spaceship. I chuckle to myself.

Pavo eagerly shows me around, explaining how this was his own personal ship that only a few of the higher-ups get. It attaches comfortably to the main HQ but can detach for personal exploration, pretty much an RV for space. A really spacious RV.

He shows me the dining room, the living space, the exercise room, and we pass by his bedroom. We don't look in as it's casually mentioned.

As we walk down the halls I slow back to catch a look at his back, all the spikey branches protruding out. I feel tempted to reach out and touch but worry about being taboo.

"Hey," I say instead," what's with the spikes?"

He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at me and then at his branches," Oh theses? It's kind of hard to explain."

"They aren't like, some puberty thing, right," I tease.

"No, nothing like that. It's normal given the circumstances," He answers.

"Well puberty is completely normal," I joke. He shakes his head at me, beginning to walk again.

"Come, I want to show you something." I follow him down the winding halls to a room we haven't seen yet. He enters a command and the doors open. I walk inside, eager to explore this new space. Though I'm let down. I look this way and that, seeing nothing of interest. Really nothing of anything. It's just a large open room. There is a large window that stretches from the floor past the ceiling. It's gorgeous, being able to see Earth just coming into view.

"Oh wow," I whisper. I walk ahead, completely enamored with the view. The stars are so plentiful, Earth is so big. I can see the swirls of clouds over the continents, the white of the Arctic, the blue of the sea. It's all so humbling, I feel so small.

I hear some clicks behind me, and before I can investigate I feel my stomach drop. Weightlessness overtakes me, my feet slowly rising above the ground. I twist to look over at Pavo who is also floating.

"Zero gravity room, though the whole ship could be zero gravity. This room is made specifically for that," Pavo answers. He twists to push off the wall and launch towards me. I can't stop the giggle bubbling out of me as he gets closer. Before he can reach me I push up towards the ceiling. He thuds against the window, growling playfully.

"why does someone need a zero gravity room," I ask as we continue our game of chase. He jumps up to me and I quickly pick a direction and throw myself to it. I bang against the door oh so gracefully.

"It's for health and pleasure," He answers," we spend some time in water, our body is used to a certain level of weightlessness. Though space has way less gravity than water, it still feels similar. So in an easier way of explaining it, it feels like home."

Pavo scrambles to get to where I am, scratching against the wall to stop his momentum when I high-tail it in the other direction.

"Homesick room, how cute," I tease. I get trapped in the corner of the room, the only way out is up. As I spring upwards, Pavo catches me. I'm held tightly against his hard body, laughing with him as we float to the ceiling.

"Got you," He smiles triumphantly.

"that is true, but the real question is...what are you going to do with me," I flirt. He purrs at the insinuation, leaning down to brush his head against mine. I close my eyes and take a leap, kissing him ever so softly. He pauses, confused but excited. He makes his own attempt at a kiss, pressing his mouth to mine stiffly.

"Is that correct," He asks.

"relax a little," I advise. Wrapping my arms around his neck, nestling them around his branches, I kiss him like I mean it. He kisses less stiffly than before, though he can't help being so hard. His arms fall from my back to around the back of my thighs. He squeezes and massages my thick legs, pulling me closer.

"you're so soft," he groans into my mouth," so pliant."

"Don't make it sound so bad," I joke. His chest rumbles, his back spikes pop, a low clicking sound emits from his mouth. He reaches behind me and anchors us to the wall before he attacks my mouth again. I give him a little treat, sliding my tongue on to lick him. He stumbles a bit, recovering quickly to nearly choke me with his tongue. I have to lean back to catch my breath, though the thrumming in my body proves how much I enjoyed that.

No longer having access to the new toy called my mouth he begins attacking my neck. I can hardly keep my eyes open as I'm seduced by this big alien. I scratch at his back, gripping onto his branch. He responds by biting me, a little harder than needed. I grab the spike from his head to yank him back.

"Soft skin, remember," I scold. He looks drunk, his eyes lidded and mouth open. He looks me over, squeezing my legs again.

"By the heavens, I want to devour you," he whines. A zap goes down my spine in fear and pleasure.

"Not literally, right," I ask just in case. He doesn't answer, instead flopping his head down to bite up my neck. He sneaks a hand between us to stretch my shirt. I hear the thread snap as he stretches the collar over my shoulder. His entire mouth slobbers over me, sucking and licking every bit of skin. I glance behind him, seeing the branches have stretched out into the room. The few close to the wall have begun to take root, spreading out around the wall like vines.

Well, that's interesting.

Pavo bites a bit hard again to my dismay, I can feel a few of his teeth pierce my skin. With a yelp, I tear him back to properly scold him. He looks debauched, utterly drunk and horny.

"whoa," I gasp," you ok?"

His head tilts to the side in answer, "Get your clothes off."

I hesitate," But are you ok?"

He growls," I will be when you get your clothes off."

"Geez," I begin taking my shirt off," so pushy."

He scoffs," so slow." He begins to unbutton his clothes, finding it hard to do as his body is anchored to the wall. He yanks, detaching the vines from the metal. As he yanks his shirt, tearing it completely off his back, the branches begin reaching out to the wall again, gluing themselves once more.

I'm working my pants off when he grabs me, my jeans barely hanging onto one ankle. His torn shirt drifts upwards past us. I look down between us, his pants mostly torn. His cock surprises me, not prepared to see him in all his glory. Holding himself I can't help admire.

There is no way else to say it, his dick is a tentacle. It seems like a few spiraled around each other like yarn to present as one single mass. It's pink and purple, a kind of spray paint space vibe. He squeezes himself, fluid leaking from between each tentacle. It coats his hand, drops drifting off in the zero Gs.

"whoa," I whisper, reaching out to him. He proudly presents, his chest rumbling and mouth clicking. I gently graze my fingers over him, letting a few floating drops land on my outstretched hand. He jerks a little at the feather touch, grabbing my hand and forcing me to hold him. My stomach does flips, he is so soft and squishy. It's like touching a thick cord of fabric, soft but just firm enough to hold shape. I squeeze, wringing out more drops as I pull to the tip. He purrs, his back branches reaching out more and making his body jerk.

Too fascinated with him I don't even notice when he moves his hand into my underwear. His other hand fondling my breast, though they don't keep his attention much as the slickness below. He investigates, poking and prodding as I investigate him. Everything is so different for us both, it's all so tantalizing.

"you're so warm," he groans, reaching in to shove a finger inside. I shudder.

"you're so soft," I squeeze him, relishing in the sounds he makes. I can't help but reach for a kiss, just basking in all the sensations and sounds. His fingers squelch as he puts two into me.

"you're going to take me so well," he nearly whispers," I couldn't imagine someone more perfect."

I kiss him again," you flirt." I squeeze his cock. His fingers stretch and glide, making the coil in my belly tighten and twitch. If only he would touch me where I need him. I buck my hips into him, whimpering against his lips. I forget he isn't a human man, someone who could potentially get the hint. Instead, I reach down and grab his hand. He freezes. I slide his fingers out of me, another shudder going up my back, and guide one of his fingers up. He barely grazes me and it's like lightning.

"What's this," He asks, abandoning my mouth to look between us. I squeeze him in defiance, he grunts.

"Touch me there," I whimper," please."

He needs no more instructions, stroking me timidly before gaining confidence. He is a changed man now, watching me whine and moan as he gets me off. He is enraptured with me, watching and waiting. I can't focus as my inside feels like electricity, like sparks coming from his hand. More. More. More. I'm almost there. I hold onto him, using him as an anchor as he keeps playing me like a fiddle. My legs wrap around his, like snakes intertwined. Just a little more. His cold carapace against my feet, his rumbling purr and clicks, the way he just wants to make me cum. It's all so much.

"Pavo," I yelp," oh, fuck."

I'm gone. I fall into bliss, debauched as he was a moment ago. I scratch at his body, not worried about hurting him. I curl into him, reaching between us to stop his ministration as they become too much. I bang my head into his shoulder, holding him for dear life. He grabs my hair, pulling me back just to watch.

"Beautiful," He grins so wide. I give a half-hearted smile, still lost to the wind. I don't notice when he adjusts me to himself, but I definitely notice when he is poking at my entrance. I sober, looking down as his cock unfurrows. The little appendages search around, grabbing at my thighs and poking at my lips. I take a courageous breath, a little terrified of what's about to happen. He twists back into one, the ends still split to make their way into me.

I choke as he stuffs me, his cock twisting and curling, pulsing within me. I'm having sex with an alien, the thought hits me like a ton of bricks. I look from the display that has disappeared inside me to the creature I've decided to lay with. He looks so beautiful. He can't focus, his mouth opening and closing as the clicking sounds more like pops. He damn near gurgles as his eyes close. He snaps his hips, both of us stuttering on a breath. I twine my arms around him and he wastes no time pressing me close. He cradles the back of my head, his other arm securely around my lower back.

Without a starting pistol, he is off. Completely secure in place he pounds into me like a desperate man, angling my hips with his arm on my back. I can do nothing but hold on, groaning in his ear. I get to watch the branches on his back snap and jolt outwards. Every single one finds purchase on the walls. They take root, running up and around the walls until they meet each other, making a beautiful lattice on the walls.

"Wow," I gasp between moans. He answers with a pained grunt, burying his head into my neck. His mouth opens to attempt to bite but he thinks better of it, instead sucking on my neck. I appreciate the forethought. He whimpers and whines, every most the lost whore beside my ear. It's a pleasure in itself to have someone so lost in you, so pleasured by your body. I hold him tighter

"Agh," he gurgles. He begins to speak in tongues, the words ever lost to me but the meaning coming through. He is fucked, coming to his end, and only at the mercy of his whims now. Oh, I want him to cum, I wanna feel it.

I snuggle into the side of his neck, the plates shifting as he twists his head away. I find a soft area just below his jaw, right below his ear. I find purchase and bite as hard as I can. He screams, the branches on his back bucking as they dramatically grow. I worry I've hurt him, I was only returning the favor. I pull away, feeling sorry for myself. He growls in answer, punishing me with a hard slam onto his cock. He pushes me back to his neck.

"Harder," he growls through clenched teeth," make it hurt."

Oh my.

I cozy up to him again, finding the same teeth indent I left before, and chomp down. He shouts again, more words I can't interpret. I bite hard, I bite until I hear his plates crack and my teeth sink into the soft part of his skin. He shudders, curling around me and pumping into me in quick bursts.

"Yes," he says like a prayer. Before I know it I feel him shake and sputter, gurgling again as he snaps into me one more time. It's warm and plentiful, I'm sure it's a mess below. Zero gravity surely making it look like a spectacle. Pavo holds me so dear, so spent.

I slowly pry my teeth from his neck, spitting out a few little bits of carapace. Ew. I lean back to look into my new lover's eyes. He barely moves, looking like he passed out. I grab the short spikes on his head, lifting him to look at me.

"Pavo," I panic," is this normal? I haven't a single clue."

He answers with a gurgle. Not helpful. I try to wiggle away from him but I can't move. I look around and see we are cocooned in a growing ball of branches.

"What," I ask as I look around. I try to wiggle out of his arms but he holds on. Tight for someone who is basically asleep. I panic, fighting hard against his grip. Only succeeding in moving up him a few inches.

"Pavo," I snap," let me out."

He groans, happy to just float in this weird ball of his own making.

"Pavo," I shout. His face pinches.

"Hush," he finally speaks," be still."

"Be still? How do you expect me to do that right now? I'm covered in cum, and my sweat is bubbling off of me. I'd like to experience gravity again," I snap. He finally opens his eyes, glaring at me. I glare back. He relents, shifting his arms with great effort. I wiggle away from him, floating up. I navigate around his branches, finding my way to the door. I pause at the controls.

"Press the orange one," Pavo says helpfully. I press the orange button. I fall to my feet, my legs giving out. Then there is a loud sound of cracking like a tree falling. I look up to see Pavo falling from his fort. All the branches snap and break apart from the weight of themselves. He falls onto his back, the ball crashing around him though the fall isn't so loud. More like Styrofoam hitting the floor.

"Ow, "Pavo deadpans. I can't help but laugh. I get to my feet and walk over to him, picking up my pants along the way. Sliding them on I crouch beside him, picking up one of the branches. It's surprisingly light.

"What are these," I ask, turning it every which way. It's porous, with little holes that are barely noticeable.

"My anchors," he answers," it's a whole thing."

"Is it for what we just did," I ask. He shrugs.

" mostly. Though it's not exclusively. Just makes a lot of things easier in the water," he answers.

"Like sex?"

He grins to himself, "Yes, like sex."

I clear a space beside him, lying down to look at the portion of the window that covers the ceiling.

"I have some more questions," I say as I clasp my hands on my stomach. He lazily raises a hand and flourishes to make me continue. "Explain the branches, please."

He sighs," It's mostly a sex thing. When we first met I was immediately enamored. I couldn't stop thinking about you. Then I saw you and I couldn't stop myself. I wanted you. So my spikes got ready. My species loves the spikes, it's a whole fertility thing. I was showing them off, looking all big for you."

"You were flirting with the tree branches coming out your back," I joke.

"Sure," he laughs," I knew I had to have you. I never knew it would be like that! I made a nest for you and everything. I wish someone told me it would be so...everything"

"Talking like a virgin," I poke. He doesn't laugh. I look over and he is serious. I sit up," are- were you a virgin?"

He winces," define virgin."

I bolt up, standing and pacing the room. "Oh my god, I took your virginity! I took an ALIEN'S virginity?"

Pavo sits up, stopping me with a hand on my ankle. "Why are you so freaked out?"

"Freaked out? I'm just surprised and I totally did you dirty. If I knew it was your first time I would have made it more romantic. I mean who would guess you were a virgin," I drop my head in my hands, shaking from side to side.

"Well it's to be expected," he shrugs," we only have one person we do it with."

My heart stops, "what?"

"My kind mates for life, I mean most aliens do. It's a survival thing. Doesn't your kind," he asks.

"No," I basically screech, " we do not do that! If we did, definitely not after like 2 dates!"

He stumbles on his thoughts, his face pinching inquisitively.

"I could have sworn you guys mated for life," he collapses on his back," what would you like to do now?"

I ponder that for a moment. What is there to do? He just committed himself to me forever. I have the option to leave but that just screws him over. Also, I still like the idiot.

I groan, walking over and lying down beside him.

"You better pray this will just be a funny story we tell people when we get old," I grumble.

"Don't be so dramatic, everything will be fine," he tugs me closer.

"It better," I cozy into his side," all that's left is telling my brother."

Pavo barks a laugh," I can't imagine the paperwork he has for this!"

----------------------------------

Hello! Hope you enjoyed the 2nd October story. After this month I will be on a hiatus once again.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog| Ko-Fi

#exophilia #enigma-im #monster boyfriend #fluff #monster lover #alien x human #alien boyfriend #space force

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scarlet-fantasies · 7 months

Text

"Studying" w BF Eren Hcs

::Description::

Eren helping you study but also not. And just what studying with him is like.

::𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬:: sfw & slight nsfw

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡

𝐼𝑛𝑏𝑜𝑥 𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑛

𝐶𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 𝑗𝑜𝑖𝑛 --> 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

📚Eren isn’t the type to study a lot and maybe not at all. I mean he probably doesn’t turn in all of his assignments, he does some but not a lot.

📚And he may try to get you to not study either. Its mostly because he cannot concentrate for a long time and because he doesn’t care that much about his grades.

📚Like don't get me wrong he’s smart (but can’t do math) but he just isn’t someone that cares a lot about his grades.

📚That’s why he doesn’t study with you very often, most times he will not join you.

📚He only studies if his grades are at stake, feels like doing it, if you two are in the same class, or for morale support on your end to test you.

📚Sometimes you have to beg him to study just to have someone help you prep. I picture that he might be good at subjects like English, Political Science, History, and Communications so if you need help in those you’re going to have ask possibly more than once to get him to help you.

📚You’d try to coax him into saying yes by kissing his cheek before asking for a favor. “Eren, can you help me with something?” You’d sweet talk.

📚“Hmm, like what?”

📚“Could you help me study?”

📚 “No.” He’d tease, acting like he meant it to see your reaction.

📚“Pleeeease?” You’d ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

📚He’d sigh before looking down at you “Alright fine,” and would cup your face with his hands, “but only because you’re cute.” He’d smile, before kissing you.

📚Another thing you have to note is sometimes he thinks that when you ask to study that you’re not serious. He thinks you mean that you’ll “study”.

📚One time he thought you two were going “study” and not actually study but he was wrong.

📚“So what should we do first?” You’d ask looking at him as he hugged you from behind putting his hands around your waist.

📚“Hmm, don't know.” He’d murmur whilst kissing your neck.

📚“We have to study something, Eren.” You’d giggle somewhat at the tickle you felt on your neck by his kisses..

📚“Nah.” He smirked, turning you to face him as he kissed you, his hands roaming around your body in very suggestive areas leading you to pull away. You looked at him before saying “Eren, I mean actually study.”

📚“Babe, you can’t actually be serious about wanting to study.” He’d give you a look of “really”.

📚“But I am serious.” You’d say, looking at him being truthful.

📚“Right.” He’d say looking at you not fully convinced.

📚“Eren.” You’d frown seeing he was really thinking of this differently.

📚“Gosh you can be such a buzkill.” He’d tease while getting you to be offended.

📚“Hey!” You’d frown.

📚 He’d smile before chuckling, “A cute buzkill–you didn’t let me finish.” He’d laugh pinching your cheek.

📚When you ask for help he’ll tease you and say you have to give kisses/a hug first.

📚“Say that you need me?” He’d tease, causing you to blush.

📚“That’s not fair.” You’d justify, trying to ignore the embarrassing situation.

📚Gives neck kisses and hickeys while you are reading out of the textbook trying to explain something. “And so then you—hey! Stop it tickles!” You’d shriek and jerk away from him.

📚Pulls you in his lap while correcting papers with you. He likes to give kisses here too. Along with putting arms around you and just keeping you there from leaving.

📚When you make an error he tells you that you have to kiss him.

📚“Wrong answer~” he’d smile leaning in teasingly to have you blush before leaning in to kiss him.

📚Other times when you’re reluctant because he’s embarrassing you and you two are at school he just makes you even more embarrassed.

📚“Give me a kiss,. . . Y/n~” he’d tease, putting his lips near yours as you kept changing direction to move away from him because others were watching.

📚If you got him turned on or he just wants attention he takes your textbook away or closes it in front of you on purpose.

📚You have to chase him for it and I swear you can never get your book bc he just has the upper hand since he’s taller, and stronger and he knows your reflex’s, so he’s quick to block you.

📚He even lowers the book lower to your level and then brings it back up. Sometimes he tosses it elsewhere or puts it on a high shelf so you can’t reach and then he tackles you for being a “bad” girlfriend.

📚He’ll laugh if you pout at him and try to move past him he just grabs you by your waist and carries you to the couch.

📚Even if you fight him he doesn’t care and especially if you’re upset he wants to just squish your face.

📚“You know you’re the cutest little thing ever?” He’d grin, squishing your face with his large hands.

📚"Stop squishing me!”

📚“Never!”

📚If you really want your book back he’ll make you pay dearly for it.

📚“If you want your book then give me the key to your underwear drawer.”

📚“That’s not fair. My underwear is private.”

📚Speaking of which, while you are studying he does bother you quite a bit. Like if you’re wearing pants he sometimes pulls back the waistband to see your undergarments, “Aww those are cute, Y/n.” (This is when you’ve been together with him for too long)

📚“What are you doing?!”

📚“Just checking if you’re wearing the ones I bought you.” He’d smirk before you push his hand off.

📚“Eren what the—“

📚“What? I just wanted to see if you’re wearing the butterfly one or not.”

📚He buys you underwear sometimes that have pretty designs on the back, but it’s always something a little cheeky.

📚“Still you can’t just check!” You’d complain, keeping a close eye on him now.

📚If you’re wearing a skirt he will purposely drop his pencil so you can bend down and he can lift the hem of your skirt.

📚“Ohh those are cute.” He’d grin

📚“Don’t look!” You’d yell at him.

📚Even if your wearing pants he’d stare at your ass when you bend down and gave you rub or pat on it.

📚He likes to pinch your sides when your trying to read.

📚He thinks you’re adorable if you can’t keep eye contact with him when he’s explaining. Like you’ll look at him for a second only to look down because his green eyes are focusing on you and you feel small.

📚He f*cking lives for that.

📚Traces circles in your thigh if you two are sitting at the table and you're explaining something to him.

📚All to make you scoot away bc you wanna stay focused.

📚He likes to hear you explain things and just have you go on and on, all cuz he likes your voice too much.

📚Out of nowhere, he’ll just k!ss you which makes you shut up entirely.

📚Makes bets with you about getting the answer right and if you lose he gets to have that a$$ all to himself.

📚He’d literally pinch your @ss cheek every time you get an answer wrong or even squeeze it, leaving you bruises and you’d swat his hand away. And if he’s not doing that he’s just clutching it.

📚He sometimes doodles on your paper to get your attention. If he sees you have doodled on your paper and if you wrote his name or something he’ll be annoying.

📚“Awww, E + (first initial) you have a crush on me. You’re such a baby, Y/n.”

📚You two have been kicked out of the school library for making out thanks to Eren. You got called out by a librarian when you kissed his jawline even though he started it. He couldn’t stop himself from laughing seeing you got caught instead of him, “Look at that she knows you’re a naughty girl.”

📚“Shut up!”

📚You study in your room a lot, sometimes his, but sometimes he wants to study outside or use the library.

📚One time you two were in the library he was bothering you since he was needy and in the mood. “No, we can’t just do that here.”

📚“C’mon, don’t tell me you’re going to wait till we’re home?”

📚“Eren . . .” You’d sigh, wanting to focus on your math.

📚“Or maybe at least in the car~”

📚“Stop! I can’t concentrate when you talk about s*x!” You put your hands on your ears feeling uneasy by his words as you shouted getting a lot of people’s attention.

📚He grinned at this and watched you get up to collect your things and leave but he followed right after you.

📚You walked fast bc you wanted to avoid him. As much as you loved Eren it was times like this where you just didn’t.

📚“Babe, c’mon I'm sorry. I was joking with you. I didn’t think you’d say that.”

📚“You’re embarrassing me and I don’t want to talk about this.”

📚But he got you to be over it quickly with all his endless apologizing and nuzzling his face in your neck with his facial hair tickling your skin, you couldn’t say no.

📚Oh gosh if he’s tutoring you for German (if you don’t know it) he’s going to be fixing every little thing as he guides you with the pencil on how to write/spell things.

📚He kisses your cheek every time you get it right and I swear if you’re studying at his place and his mom sees this she thinks you two are adorable.

📚Sometimes he’ll joke with you though. If it’s something naughty though and his brother catches it he teases you both, “Eren don’t teach Y/n those things, she’s just a kid!”

📚Of course, he’d be upset if his brother taught you something especially if it was something about Eren like his middle name. “Babe, who taught you that?”

📚“Oh, your brother did when you were gone.” Hearing this he’d tell you to wait so he could get mad at Zeke.

📚Since Eren probably hates his middle name.

📚And when they argue you don’t know what’s being said but Eren tells you not to worry.

📚He tells you to take breaks since you don��t always do that. And he of course has snacks during this time and did I ever mention that Eren eats a lot. Like he even steals your food if you don’t finish.

📚Will tell you to choose which snack you want by choosing one of his fists while doing so he’d lean in to kiss you instead of giving you the snack.

📚Sometimes he tries to aim the snack (if it’s small) in between your chest so it falls in.

📚Succeeds if you wear a loose shirt.

📚Ruffles your hair when he’s wishing you luck at school.

📚pulls you away from work if you overwork yourself. He’ll literally pick you off of the chair and just carry you to another room to have you take a break.

📚“But Eren Im so close.”

📚“You said that 30 minutes ago, just take a break babe.”

📚“But Eren.”

📚“No buts, you need to take your break, babe.”

📚“Fine.”

📚“Good, now let me hold my hardworking girl.” He’d smile, hugging you closer.

@bi-effing-simp @lucifugovs @xxghoulishspritexx @sp00ksic0la @keithandlevi-ontheroof @songbirdgardensworld

@bubs-world

::Previous Post::

#attack on titan headcanons #eren aot #attack on titan #eren jaeger #snk #eren yeager #attack on titan eren #eren attack on titan #eren snk #eren #aot eren #eren yeager headcanons #eren yeager hcs #anime #aot #eren headcanons #eren x reader

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ykiwrite · 1 year

Text

i'm not in love

[bad] description: Wednesday pays you a visit in school

"And this is how you do differential equations guys. Any questions? Do i need to explain it again?" asked the professor of your beloved subject math, sarcastically of course.

"No, no we get it" shouted the entire class collectively already ready to leave in hopes of finishing earlier than intended despite understanding close to nothing before being interrupted by a gem amongst stones.

"Yes, actually can you repeat that part where…"

At that very moment you and every single being in that room let out a disappointed and annoyed sigh. Muffling out every noise surrounding you along with your vision going dark as you rested your head between folded arms acting as a pillow. Might as well take a rest since your phone died meaning no music, no music meaning no other options left except sleep to pass the time.

The bell rang and you were pretty sure everyone right now wished to be people speeding down the hallway heading out.

"Guys, silence please. Listen to me for a minute, this is very important which i forgot to mention. We'll finish quickly and you got your break."

His rambling, although you were detached from everything could be present up until it got quiet out of the blue. Raising your head and adjusting your vision wondering what's the reason behind the silence until you spotted the reason and made eye contact with it.

Quite impossible to miss the one and only, from head to toe wrapped in black Wednesday, your Wednesday Addams.

"I am sorry for interruption sir, i considered since the bell rang the class is over therefore i may come in."

"Well uh, yes you can but i didn't finish my lecture yet."

"Would you mind if i were to take a seat in the back of the class until it's finally over? I planned on waiting for someone from this class in front of the school but your lectures allegedly prolonged."

"Yes of course, go ahead." said the man whose voice you swore was trembling at one point as he turned around to bring a lecture to an end. "Where were we?", hand hovering above the board pointlessly moving in circles in order to remember. Great, now she even confused him which will make this even longer.

As Wednesday made her way to you, swiftly moving in between rows of desks and chairs people kept turning around once they were out of her vision. Both peripheral and the center one, it's better to play it safe.

"I see how you pay attention in class." was her first words of the day spoken to you when she sat next to your empty seat. Looking at your as well empty white notebook page you couldn't defend yourself.

"Wow, not even a hi and how are you for your beloved girlfriend?" you said faking a disappointed flat tone. "Besides, what are you doing here? I can already see 90% of people in this class won't sleep tonight because of you. I can't afford to pay for therapy bills."

"That's entirely not my problem. The reason i visited is because Enid told me you didn't answer her text messages."

(That definitely was not the reason but you let it slide)

"You mean your text messages? I know when you use her phone, Enid doesn't use proper grammar. It screams 'Wednesday'. Also my phone died so that's why."

"Hmmm" she muttered looking you dead in the eye as if interrogating with hope you will break and confess. "I'll take that as an excuse."

"Okay but what about the real reason you're here?" You said giving her a playful smile.

"What are you implying?"

"Just say you wanted to see me so, oh so desperately. It's normal, nothing to be ashamed of. Couples do that in case this is your first time hearing about it." You gave her a wink knowing it will make her roll eyes.

"Dude, is this your friend?" ruined the moment by a guy sitting in front of you that was quiet up until now, unfortunately.

"I mean-"

"I'm the girlfriend. Why?"

Seeing both of your sour faces he was brave enough to push forward "Listen, i always had a thing for like goth girls so i was wondering if you're free but since you two-"

"Alright guys, class is finally over. I apologize for making you stay longer, i'll make it up to you by shortening next class. See you tomorrow and have a good day."

All of the class shuffling drowned out his attempt for a small talk as both Wednesday and you thanked whatever is lurking out there for cutting it short. Wednesday was visibly close to falling apart from that interaction and it's for the best you leave as soon as possible to prevent any unwanted injuries. Clearly on behalf of the guy. Eventually getting through the crowd and out in open felt like a wish come true.

"Looook, it's snowing right? The first one this year" you commented eagerly while looking around the sky that's getting darker and darker by each second.

"It's just snow." looking over to your side she feels like you shapeshifted into a child in those few seconds she looked away. She wasn't familiar with this type of werewolves but there's a first time for everything.

"It's also Wednesday today! It must be a sign." you claimed.

"Sign for what?" asked Wednesday completely clueless.

"Oh you know, the "first snow" traditions." quoting with your hands.

"The first snow traditions? If it's something coming from the things you read on the internet or you and Enids highly intelligent conversations-"

"No it's not! It says you're supposed to kiss the loved one on the first snowfall of the year." Looking back to her, asking you "Really?" just above a whisper. She was still wary but how could she not trust you. It's you after all.

Taking a deep breath in she turned to you fixing your winter hat and dusting of snow that has fallen, hands naturally finding their own path down to your face as she allowed herself to relax around you.

"This better be true" merely an inches of space between two of you. In fact, she wouldn't mind if it weren't the truth.

time skip

"You lied."

"About what are we talking about?"

"About the snow tradition. I can't believe i had to hear it from Enid and her computer that there is no concrete evidence behind the snowfall and a kiss." said Wednesday bringing up your last weeks made up fact.

"And what are you complaining about exactly?" provided no answer. You won against Wednesday, congratulations.

notes: for the sake of the story pretend you don't attend Nevermore and Wednesday can roam around freely (also no offense for math lovers)

fun fact also: i accidentally deleted this after writing it for hours i almost deleted the app

#wednesday x reader #wednesday imagine #wednesday addams x reader #you won #wednesday addams imagine

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honelle56 · 2 months

Note

Mpreg hc: dream is on a mission to buy every single pregnancy and parenting book available but he gets way too overwhelmed to actually sit down and read them so george helps him make an excel sheet with the important parts of each book and then they read for 20 min together every night

Let's jump on the mpreg train, shall we? Small drabble:

“Dream, you know I love you a whole lot, but this is getting ridiculous.” George stared at the dozens of books stockpiled on their coffee table. He could’ve sworn that there was already a visible dent in the table from where the books have been amassing over the past few weeks, ever since he took that pregnancy test.

“Huh?” Dream asked when he came back from answering the door. Presumably to accept another order of books if the big box in his hands was anything to go by.

“When do you even want to read all of these? You are aware that the baby is going to be here in six months, and I sincerely hope that you did not plan on spending every single second until then reading every book there is about pregnancy and babies.”

Dream visibly paled at that, letting go of the box and starting to pace through the living room. “You are right, fuck. Six months is not enough time to figure out everything I need to know. Maybe I can learn to read faster? Or- or I could start listening to audiobooks while reading, you know, multi-tasking. And maybe the baby will arrive later, giving us some more time, do you think you can hold them in for a bit longer? I am sure-“

“Dream.” George interrupted, getting up from his perch on the couch to stop his spiraling husband. “Sit down with me?”

Dream still seemed restless but after taking a deep breath he followed George to the couch and sat down next to the smaller who was cupping his small baby bump.

“What is this about, honey?”

Tears filled Dream’s eyes at George’s soft voice. “I-” he tried, willing himself to not freak out. This was George, his husband, soulmate, he wouldn’t run away over some insecurities.

“I guess I am scared to mess this up. I feel like I am flying a plane without a license and blindfolded and I am terrified of being a bad Dad, so I guess I just want to know everything there is to know before the baby gets here. But there is so much to learn, and I don’t think I will ever be fully ready for this.”

Gentle hands cupped his cheeks, willing him to look at George who looked at him with eyes so soft they could only be described as lovestruck. A soft kiss was pressed onto the tip of his nose.

“Thank you for telling me. For what it is worth I think you will be the best Dad, simply because you have a heart so big that I know this kid will be the most loved baby to have ever been born. And yes, we will probably mess up but then we will learn and improve. These books can only teach us so much, I fear the rest will just be learning by doing.”

Dream chuckled, softly caressing George’s belly. He couldn’t wait until he could finally feel them.

“If it makes you feel better, let’s make a deal. Let’s math this out.” George proposed. “No more books. Today we look through the ones we already have and find the important parts. We plan for 20 minutes every evening where we read something about pregnancy and babies. Then we can make an Excel sheet and plan what to read in which order and when.”

Dream didn’t think he could love this man any more than he already did if he tried but every day, he proved him wrong. He would never understand how George just got his brain better than he did himself, but it was in situations like this that he would be forever thankful that they had found each other in this world.

“Let’s do it.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to George's forehead and grabbing two books for them to skip through.

#mpreg #dnf #pregnancy #I wrote this on the train and I sincerely hope nobody saw me type this #gognancy #not sure if this is the right tag lol did we already settle on one?#Honelle drabbles

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jo-harrington · 1 year

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Standard Operating Procedures 1.03 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie is no stranger to disappointment, but it still stings, regardless.

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.02 (Like...it immediately precedes 1.03)

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining and slow burn (yes still, always). Chekhov's...Guitar(?), Sad Boy Eddie, Disappointment, Kind of an argument, Disillusioned Eddie, Hurt/Comfort, fluff at the end as per usual.

Note: I am admittedly just making some shit up in this chapter strictly because I don't know how certain things were in the 80s and have already done my fair share of research and math for this fic. I'm a tired girl. Suspend your sense of disbelief. I hope it's seamless regardless.

Also, I just want to say, thank you for all the love this little series has gotten so far. Everyone has been so kind. If you haven't gotten some already, here's some soft internet magic to help you find your own Eddie Munson or mall romance or whatever it is you're looking for. *perpetual magical forehead smooch*

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"M'home!" Eddie announced as he bounded into the trailer. "Isn't it time to make the donuts, old man? Didn't expect you to still be here."

"Eh, Marty's got some appointment tomorrow, so I traded him for 2nd shift," Wayne sighed, sinking further into his arm chair. "Didn't get home too long before you and I don't plan to leave this chair for a good few hours."

"Well, I'll make myself scarce so you can enjoy Johnny Carson in peace," Eddie chuckled, knowing his uncle didn't get much of a chance to indulge in his favorite programs with his work schedule.

"Did ya' have a good session tonight?"

"No session. We went out to celebrate Gareth getting his drivers license."

"S'that why you're so giddy?" Wayne teased good-naturedly.

Eddie thought about it for a second as he kicked off his sneakers, realizing that he had been in a pretty good mood tonight. It had been a fun night out with the guys. And of course, you were there.

It made him happy that you got along with his friends.

And he got to sit next to you and sneak little glances when you didn't know he was watching. And he got to hear the little hitch of your breath at the jump scares and imagine that it would do the same if he kissed your neck the way he wanted to, someday.

You had leaned in close at one point and put your head on his shoulder...only to whisper some joke about a continuity error you spotted. And then grinned when he burst out laughing, only to get confused looks from the guys and curses from the other moviegoers.

It only got better when you agreed to go out on Halloween, as much as he felt like an absolute idiot for asking you.

Who asks a girl to go Trick or Treating? What was he, in 3rd grade? On the upside, it meant you still planned to be his friend come October.

Maybe you would be more than a friend by then.

If he could just get the courage to...actually ask you out.

It wouldn't be that hard, right? He would just have to...maybe hold your hand and ask if you'd ever want...well no that wasn't right...

Fuck. He'd done it before; he'd mostly gotten no's but...

"Y-yeah," Eddie finally responded, realizing his uncle was waiting for an answer. "Zombie movie. You know I like those. Gareth was practically pissing his pants."

"Well good. And you tell that boy not to let the driving thing get to his head," Wayne coughed. "He still owes me a new mailbox after your driving lessons.

"Speaking of which, there's mail for you on the counter," Wayne waved his hand in the direction of the kitchen.

Eddie shuffled over and thumbed through the envelopes, debating whether or not to pull a Carnac the Magnificent just to get a laugh out of his uncle, only to freeze when he reached the bright blue envelope at the bottom of the stack.

ROANE COUNTY PARKS, RECREATION, & COMMUNITY SERVICES

He didn't even need a second to think before he sprinted across the trailer to shove his feet back into his sneakers, grabbed his keys, and shouted a quick "imgoingtojeffsdontwaitup" as he raced out the door.

If it was any other time, he would have called first. Or waited until the morning. But if he knew his friends--and he knew them well--they went and got Dairy Queen after the movies, and Gareth would be pulling into Jeff's sleepy little cul de sac off Maple any minute now. There was no time to waste.

This was big, for all of them. He couldn’t do this alone.

He drove with the radio off, he kept his hands at ten and two, made a full stop at every stop sign, and didn't even speed like he usually would. Not one mile over the limit. He couldn't risk Callahan catching his scent tonight. And he prayed to every god, goddess, demon, devil, deity—every pantheon—he knew that everything could just be in his favor tonight.

It's just the fair, but what if this is the next step on the road to something bigger.

Eddie started honking as soon as he could see the tail lights of the station wagon. He didn't care who he woke up or what neighbor would call the cops. He didn't even remember putting the van in park before he jumped out; it could have rolled off a cliff, he wouldn't have cared.

The other guys started screaming as he waved the envelope at them.

"This is it, this is it. Did you open it yet?

"A real show, guys."

"Do we need new equipment? Shit, do we need eyeliner?"

"Alright guys calm down," Eddie grinned. "We have to open the envelope first."

They huddled together in the middle of the cul de sac, hovering over the envelope and Eddie held his breath for a moment. This would be the moment...

The moment that they could tell everyone they really started on the road to making it big.

The moment they got their first real set, their first big crowd.

Maybe there would be some talent scout at the fair. They showed up at these sorts of things right?

He might not even need to go back to Hawkins High come September.

Or even if he did…to know that he might be a real rockstar some day...He could ignore all of the shit from the kids and the teachers. It wouldn't need to be another year of ridicule and humiliation.

He ripped through the thin blue paper and pulled out the folded letter within, dropping the envelope immediately in favor of clutching it with both hands as he read.

His hands started to shake as he read, and it was only getting worse by the second.

He was going to vomit. Or...or pass out. Or...

Unfortunately due to the family-oriented nature of this event, the genre of music included in your proposed set list has been deemed inappropriate and we regret to inform you that your application for this year's Roane County 4th of July Festival has been denied.

Eddie was going to die. He would lay down, right here in the middle of the street, and die. They could just re-pave the street right over his corpse.

Here lies Eddie Munson.

Wannabe Rockstar.

He didn't even make it to his 20th birthday.

He finally looked up and passed the letter around, watching--painfully--as their dreams were shattered too. He gauged Jeff's reaction most of all, since he had been the one to propose the idea in the first place. But Jeff was fine; he was just looking right back at Eddie.

"You ok, man?" he asked.

"It's just a stupid fair," Eddie sniffed, ignoring the stinging of his eyes as he fought back the tears.

"Yeah," Dave nodded. "There's always next summer."

Next summer. Next year.

Another year he probably wasn't gonna graduate again. Another year stuck in this not-even-one-horse-town.

Sure, he was probably getting ahead of himself with the ideas of fame. But outright rejection? It stung. To be denied the chance to perform, to show off all of their talent, because of the set list he chose.

The guys all trusted him, he always chose songs that highlighted their strengths. Always wanted them to look and play their best. He was so proud of them, he never wanted them to fail.

But they trusted him and it let them down.

And because of that, Eddie couldn't let everything fall apart because he failed.

"They couldn't even let us pick some new songs," Eddie swallowed his pain and laughed dryly. "They don't know what they're missing out on."

It wasn't much, but it was enough to get them going.

"Hey maybe we could write some more original songs for next year?"

"I think if we practiced, I could really nail that one drum solo, hey Ed?"

"We would have totally melted some faces!"

They always held it together for him; he definitely could do it for them too.

---

“Are you sure he’s gonna like this one?”

“This is the newest model,” Eddie explained with a sigh, turning the box over to show off the list of New and Improved features on the back.

The customer was a sleepy-looking older guy in glasses and a wrinkled polo, who walked in 10 minutes before closing, whose wife apparently sent him out for their son’s birthday present: a new Walkman.

And the asshole was really dragging his feet on a decision. Eddie had all of the options they offered laid out on the display case, they'd gone over the different features several times. He almost had the sale, and then the guy realized it was the red model instead of blue. Like it even fucking mattered.

It was Sunday night too. Not like Eddie had anywhere else he needed or wanted to be.

“And if I go to Sam Goody, they’re gonna say the same thing?” He asked.

“You could go down there and ask, but I’ll bet you that it’s gonna be marked up at least 15% more.”

If he left now, the gate would get closed right behind him. The sale wasn’t worth it.

“Hmmmm, fine,” the man harrumphed and began pulling out his wallet. “And throw in a couple tapes too, I guess. I don’t know what Michael likes; whatever you think is popular. You're the expert here, not me.”

As soon as the guy had paid and was walking out of the store, Eddie pulled down the gate and grumbled under his breath "what a fuckin' dickhead, can't make a decision to save his life or even be bothered to know what his son actually wants for his birthday."

Kyle's barking laughter echoed across the store from where he was doing markdowns.

"I can definitely hear you from over here kid," he chuckled. "You've gotta chill.”

"Sorry man," Eddie sighed as he approached the registers to start the closing tasks. "I'm just...I dunno, in a bad mood I guess."

"Well, you're doing a good job, people just suck sometimes."

The first time Kyle told him what a good job he was doing, Eddie nearly confessed that he was channeling Kurt Russel in Used Cars and rolled a D20 for persuasion before each shift.

Whether or not the D20 roll actually worked, Eddie still had some of the best sales numbers on the team. They’d nearly doubled their sales goal today alone. Because despite the entire town seemingly having it in for him, no one seemed to mind that he was the one helping them find whatever it was that they needed.

"Stop thinking about it so much," Kyle laughed. "You just keep making those sales, we keep beating our numbers, and your bonus check's gonna be enough for the last payment on that Warlock you've been drooling over since you started. Doesn't that cheer you up a little?"

Eddie hummed dismissively as approached the cash wrap to start closing procedures, and glared at the stack of handmade fliers for Corroded Coffin’s Tuesday night shows at the Hideout, sitting neatly on the electronics display case next to all of the special order catalogs.

Yeah that was the dream.

A stage-worthy guitar and an actual stage and crowd to go along with it.

But it was gonna be forever to get there at the pace he was going.

When he’d gotten home on Friday night and told Wayne about the rejection letter, his uncle clapped him on the shoulder and said “good things come to those who wait.” Of course, Eddie was grateful for whatever advice his uncle gave him. He was just…tired of waiting.

And he'd have to wait even longer, because tonight it didn't even feel like they were going to be able to leave the store at all, let alone on time.

Nothing was going right--or so it seemed thanks to Eddie's mood. And it just seemed to get worse as time wore on. He couldn't get the registers to balance, he kept fucking up the combination to the safe when he went to put the deposit away, the mixtape he put into the shop radio earlier in the evening had jammed, and it took both him and Kyle combined to jimmy it out of the player.

They ran into a problem with every single closing task.

And before long, you were outside of the store waiting, when he had typically made it his habit to wait for you.

It was just...one of those things that Eddie liked to do.

He could imagine he was picking you up for a real date. Watch you as you finished up your own closing tasks, enjoy the little things you probably didn't even realize you did--bob your head along to whatever residual music was playing in the mall, fiddle with your earrings with one hand as you signed deposit slips with the other.

The way you lit up when you saw him outside of the gate--gave him a bright smile and held your fingers up to say how much longer it would be--was one of the highlights of his week, after gigs at the Hideout and crushing the guys dreams during Hellfire.

He could have really used that tonight.

Instead, you were out there waiting as Eddie continued to fuck things up. You smiled and waved as you usually did when you first arrived, leaning on the little coin-operated horse right outside the store. Thanks to his frustration, he couldn't bring himself to smile back. He glanced outside every now and again, and felt his stomach lurch whenever he saw you kicking your feet or picking your nails. Bored. Annoyed. Sick of waiting for him, probably, if the lack of an expression was anything to go by.

He debated simply telling you to leave. That your night out was canceled and you could reschedule another time.

But if you agreed...you might get pissed off for wasting your time and avoid him whenever you saw him from that point forward.

How did this happen? How was it just 48 hours ago that he was coming up with a plan to ask you out? And now he might never talk to you again?

Because he was a loser, he wasn't worth the trouble, that's wh--

"Alright Ed, let's go," Kyle clapped a hand on his shoulder and Eddie jumped.

"What?" he stared at Kyle for a second.

"What do you mean what? It's time to go," Kyle explained.

"But the checklist," Eddie frowned, mentally tallying all the tasks they hadn't gotten to. "It's not done."

"You wanna stay and clean the bathroom? Mop the floors? I can just have Paulie do it in the morning," Kyle grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to the door. "Let's fucking go. There's a whole pan of lasagna waiting for me at home, and your girlfriend is out there waiting for you. Unless you want me to take her out instead?"

Eddie fumbled over his words as Kyle pushed him outside and locked the gate.

"Try to have a good night tonight; someone's got a crab up his ass," Kyle warned you with a wink before heading towards the exit.

You pushed yourself off the play horse and approached Eddie with a frown.

"Hey if you're not up to going out tonight, we don't have to," you offered.

Here it was, the first steps of rejection.

"Yeah, no," Eddie coughed weakly. "If you don't want to go out, that's cool."

He'd heard it all before.

"God you're such a loser."

"Who would ever want to hang out with a freak like you."

"You think I'd actually be into you?"

"It's not about me, I'm asking about you," you smiled gently. "I don't know if you had a bad customer or something. That always gets me in a mood."

Eddie scratched the back of his neck for a second and fumbled over his words. You weren’t turning him away. No you had to be letting him down easily...right? That had to be it.

Eddie…he’d just been burned too many times by so-called friends at even smaller inconveniences. It was hard not to expect the same from everyone else he let into his life.

Except that really wasn’t the way you did things was it? How many times has he expected one thing from you and you'd surprised him with another?

You weren't tricking him or out to get him or waiting for him to mess up. You were accepting him as he was and offering him whatever care or friendship he needed.

"Yeah," he finally scoffed, playing along. "This...this guy who came in right before we closed. Couldn't decide what he wanted. Wasted time walking around. Real piece of shit."

"Well fuck that guy then," you frowned, then paused. "You sure you're up for going out? Even if you don't want to be out and about, we can go back to my place and...I could cook something? Wouldn't be pizza like I promised, but I pretty much subsist solely on pasta if I'm not grabbing takeout or going out with you. You can just hang out, listen to music or something, it’s not a big deal.”

It sounded like the best night ever. Getting to see your space, adding another layer of trust to your friendship, giving you shit about your cooking just like you did with his dinner choices…but…

Eddie knew you had scheduled yourself to open on the 4th so you could see Corroded Coffin’s set. Of course this had all been planned before he knew they weren’t going to play. And he knew he would have to break the news sooner rather than later.

But...just like with the guys...he didn't want to let you down. You, who had your entire life together, who he was lucky gave him the time of day. If you got too comfortable listening to music, you might be reminded and you would ask him about it, and when you found out...

So he would keep you in the dark. For now at least. And then come that night when you met him at the Fair Grounds he could just tell you there was a mix up and you could just enjoy the fair and eat carnival food until you puked instead.

"As tempting an offer as that is, you'd be missing out on your first Benny's experience," Eddie forced an enthusiastic laugh. "Uncomfortable booths, shitty atmosphere. But you haven't really lived in Hawkins unless you've had a patty melt handmade by Benny himself."

"Surely not the famous Benny."

"The one and only. I can only semi-promise he won't scratch his back with his spatula, but he will blend a piece of apple pie into your milkshake if you ask nicely. It's the Munson Special."

Your eyes sparkled before you looked down at your feet for a moment, and Eddie vibrated restlessly, nerves getting the best of him once he wasn't being observed by you. You then looked up at him with your lips twisted to control a smile and you nodded.

What a relief...

---

It was an undeniable fact that Benny's was the heart of Hawkins, and Benny himself the soul.

He was a severe-looking man at first glance--wide-shouldered with a wild beard and furrowed brows--but he always had a laugh and a story to tell. He went out of his way to learn everyone's name and make them feel welcome and would already be prepping the grill for one of his regular's orders as soon as he saw their car pull into the parking lot.

And Eddie, by the grace of his mother's previous employment at the diner, was one of Benny's favorites. He told you as much and warned you of his "celebrity status" on the drive there.

"He's gonna be very loud, but he's really funny. And he might grill you about what sports teams you like, so he might give you some shit if you don't have one. Actually, are you a big sports fan? Oh, and he might grab me by the collar and shake me around a little, but it's ok...that's just his thing. He's been doing it since I was a kid after the one time I ate all the mints in the jar by the register."

"Eddie, don't worry it'll be ok," you laughed and shifted in the passenger's seat to get a better glimpse of him. "Oh my god, are you blushing?"

"What, no," he scoffed.

Yes, he most definitely was. And he could feel himself get hotter as you continued to watch him.

"It's ok, family can be embarrassing sometimes," you shrugged. "At least it's just funny embarrassing and not painful embarrassing."

Eddie swallowed nervously and gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

Yeah this would be like meeting someone from his family, wouldn't it.

He was so caught up in his nerves and self-pity, he really hadn't thought of it that way.

"Unless Benny has some baby pictures of you on the wall something," you continued with a conspiratorial grin.

Fortunately, no baby pictures; unfortunately there was a picture on the wall near the old jukebox of a 9-year old Eddie with Benny and Rick, standing next to some massive fish they caught out on Lover's Lake. Whether to emphasize how big the fish was or how short Eddie was, he couldn't recall. All he knew was that he was missing a few baby teeth and his knees were all scabby from one fantastical adventure in the woods or another.

But you didn't need to know about that.

The diner was, thankfully, busy by the time you guys arrived, so you were spared Benny's theatrics short of a "how's it going kid" shouted from the kitchen and a bunch of muffled greetings from some of the regulars who were around when Eddie's mom was still alive. You did, however, get to meet Lynn, the blue-haired waitress that probably worked at Benny's longer than Benny had even owned the place. She was a crank and incredibly opinionated and always let Eddie's mom, then eventually Wayne and Rick, know all of the ways they were failing at raising him.

Now that Eddie was grown, she simply let him know every time she had a problem with him.

But Eddie was shocked at how swiftly you navigated the interaction with her, dodging all of the tricks and traps that typically set Eddie up for some kind of insult or life lesson.

Lynn simply took your orders--patty melts and fries with the promised apple pie shakes, "oh and extra whipped cream please"--hummed judgmentally and stalked off to top off various coffee cups. She didn't even say anything about the lack of vegetables on Eddie's plate when the food was finally ready, like she usually did when he came in for late night bites with the guys.

"How the fuck did you do that?" Eddie leaned across the table conspiratorially. "She's had it out for me for years."

"Old people love me," you explained. "I've driven my papa to enough doctor's appointments and sat through enough of his stories that I have...what did you call it? In your game? A bluff?"

"Buff," he corrected with a nod.

"Grandchild buff," you agreed and he laughed.

"Repel the Elderly," Eddie puffed out his chest and adopted his DMing voice. "A level 4 spell. No damage taken from anyone over the age of 65. But it only lasts 2 rounds. Let's hope the Harpy doesn't come back otherwise I'll need you to make a constitution saving throw. If you roll below a 10, she deals double poison damage; you might not survive."

You threw a fry at him and stuck out your tongue, then asked him to tell you more about Dungeons and Dragons. Everything was normal for a little while as you ate and talked.

Until Benny came to check on his patrons. He typically made the rounds every hour or two, stopping at tables and saying hello. The two of you were laughing at some joke Eddie made by the time Benny got to your booth.

"Hey, kid," Benny leaned his hip against the booth with his arms folded across his chest. "Long time no see; heard you got a real life, grown up job."

"Hey Ben, yeah. At the mall. Been more than a month now. I'm guessing Rick's been by?"

"You know how it goes: holiday weekend coming up, he pulls an all nighter getting supplies from his guy up in Milwaukee. Then he gets the waffle platter with extra bacon and we talk about all the town gossip."

"Nice to know I'm still gossip-worthy."

"You know how proud he is of you. This, uh...a coworker or something? You gonna introduce me or no?" Benny changed the subject and gave Eddie a knowing look. You, however, swooped in to introduce yourself as Eddie shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

He hadn't exactly told Wayne or Rick about you yet. Just that he had some new friends who worked at the mall too. It wasn't the same as talking to the guys. How many times had he had a crush over the years and came home excited about someone only to get his hopes obliterated. How many pep talks had he endured? Now, thanks to Benny's big mouth and Rick's unending need for gossip, they'd know he had taken a pretty girl to the diner.

He could truly only hope that there wouldn't be another pep talk associated with you.

"...ok Chicago," Benny sniffed as your short conversation came to an end. "You're alright. Backing the wrong football team...but still alright. Nice to meet you.”

He then turned back to Eddie.

"I need to get back to the kitchen but Rick told me about the 4th of July thing.” Eddie froze and his mouth went dry. "I'm sorry to hear about it. If you and the guys want, you can do a show here that night instead. Lot of families stop by for ice cream and pie and such.

"Maybe not that real heavy stuff you're into, but I know you boys know how to play some of the classics off the old jukebox. We could set you up in the parking lot. Phil's got some folding tables from the tree lot."

"Yeah thanks," Eddie nodded. "That sounds great. I'll bring it up to the guys when we have practice tomorrow."

"Just let me know so we can make sure you have everything you need." He turned his attention back to you. "Again, it's nice to meet ya'. Don't let Eddie scare you off, he's a big old teddy bear."

"Ben!" Eddie groaned and put his face in his hands.

"Oh he won't; I'm definitely scarier than he is," you cackled. "Nice to meet you too Benny."

Once he was gone, Lynn swooped in with the check. You immediately made to grab for it before Eddie could dare, but Lynn stopped you.

"No need honey; Edward already paid," she hummed. "As a gentleman should; seems Wayne taught you something right."

"It's always nice to see you too Lynn."

The older woman rolled her eyes and shuffled away.

You waited until she was gone before you turned your attention back to Eddie, gritted your teeth, balled the check up and threw it at him.

"Stop doing that! When did you even--"

"When you went to the bathroom," Eddie grinned triumphantly.

"You are a menace and you must be stopped!" You threw your hands in the air as you pushed yourself out of the booth to leave. "I'll get you back one day, I swear to God."

Eddie clasped both hands to his chest and gasped dramatically.

"No, please," he exclaimed. "No holy oaths in front of a lowly devil worshiper like me. I can feel the bullshit burning through me."

"Shut up, I hate you." You laughed. "Just let me pay for dinner next time."

“No, I let you pay for pizza," Eddie argued.

"You let me pay for a pizza. One. And you didn't let me do anything, I had to jump out of the van before you could. I don’t even think you had parked it yet."

“This is slander! I object.” Eddie put his hands on your shoulders, leveling you with the most stern expression he could muster. “I also let you buy cannolis.”

“Alright Perry Mason,” you rolled your eyes at him and swatted his hands off your shoulders. “You win this time.”

“Excuse me but Perry Mason always wins!"

---

You finally brought it up on the way to Lover's Lake.

It hadn't been Eddie's intention to always end your Sunday nights out at the lake, it just...happened. Pizza that first night, then Chinese food the following week when you lost track of time sitting in the employee parking lot debating which Indiana Jones film was better, Raiders or Temple of Doom. (It was Raiders. Obviously.)

Tonight, the plan had been to make s'mores on the fire pit in Rick's backyard. He had suggested it after he'd spotted a sandwich board outside of Scoops Ahoy advertising their knew Gimme S'mores flavor. He'd subtly asked you later if you had ever made s'mores before, and then gave you shit for your absolute throwaway answer.

"Like...yeah, in the microwave."

"The micr--are you shitting me right now?!"

"I'm sorry, there wasn't really an opportunity to start a bonfire in my fully paved backyard."

"Did you even have a childhood? No s'mores, no pudding, no sugar cereal? NO QUISP!"

So Eddie had gone to Bradleys and gotten marshmallows and chocolate and a variety of cookies. The plan, if you were ok with it, was going to be to smoke for a little bit--he'd dreamed of a s'more made with chocolate chip cookies when he had gotten high the other night and was very much looking forward to it--and enjoy the sweetness of both the s'mores and your company.

Instead, it had all shattered around him as he turned onto Cornwallis.

"So..." you began hesitantly, tapping your hands on your lap.

"So...?" Eddie asked, glancing over at you. You leaned forward a little, eyebrows raised expectantly. "What?"

"Benny's offer...for the 4th..."

"What about it?"

"You guys should do it!" you exclaimed. "That sounds like a really fun time."

You went on about the intimate venue and the regulars who already seemed to know Eddie and the guys, if what you had just seen at the diner was any indicator. The more you spoke, the more irritated Eddie seemed to get.

Not irritated...with you. No, just uncomfortable in his own skin. Uncomfortable with the fact that his failure was being perceived.

He ran his tongue along his bottom lip, his hands fidgeted on the steering wheel, his chest hurt. The van seemed to be getting smaller and hotter, the seat more uncomfortable, the longer you spoke.

By the time you finished, he barely felt like himself.

"No," he coughed. "No, I don't think the guys would be up for something like that."

"Why not?" you questioned. "You were getting ready to play at the fair right? What makes this different?"

"It just is," Eddie shrugged.

"I mean I get it's not a stage but--"

"You're not even gonna ask why we aren't playing at the fair?" Eddie cut in, attention fully taken off the road as he stared at you expectantly.

Because...because yeah you were nice, but it didn't make any sense that you were just...going along with whatever you heard. Why were you so quick to try and get him to accept this pity offer from Benny. Why weren't you throwing it in his face that plans had changed and his dreams were shattered.

"Ok. Why aren't you playing at the fair?" you asked and Eddie scoffed. "I'm not trying to be passive aggressive or anything, you just seem irritated that I didn't ask first. So now I am asking."

"Does it matter?" Eddie shrugged.

"Yes, because you're upset."

"I'm not upset."

"Eddie, please," you sighed. "Even Kyle said something was bothering you. I'm not trying to stir the pot and if you want me to drop it, I will. You just...when you talk about your music and the band you're always so excited. I want to understand why you don't want to take this opportunity."

"Because it's a reminder that I'm a failure!" Eddie shouted, hands coming off the steering wheel as he held them up beside his head. "Sur-fucking-prise! I can't seem to do anything right and that's usually fine, but yeah, you're right, this was one of the only things that really mattered to me and the guys. And I couldn't even get that right.

"Benny isn't asking if we wanted to play because he likes our music, because he thinks we're any good. No, it's because he feels bad that we can't play at the Fair. Because I chose what I thought was a really fucking cool set list and they turned us down. Because I fucked up and he wants to cheer me up."

"What's so bad about that? What's so bad about people who care about you wanting to take care of you?" you asked.

"Because it isn't care; it's pity!" He argued. "It's always pity of one kind of another, right? Pity that my mom died, pity that I live in a trailer park, pity that I have this dream that's gonna get me nowhere, pity that I can't even pass senior year after two freaking tries. What's the point anymore? I'm tired."

The van rumbled along, but it was silent otherwise. Eddie couldn't look at you after his outburst so he wrung his hands around the steering wheel.

Fuck. He really did it this time.

Eddie knew, he knew you were gonna ask and he was gonna try to avoid it and he was going to disappoint you. But he didn't know...

Eddie didn't like getting angry or really showing those kinds of emotions. It was different if he snapped at the guys to reel them in, or snark at stupid kids at school. It was harmless, no actual malice behind it. There were just some times...where he felt it all get too overwhelming inside of him and he didn't want to...

He didn't want to be like his dad.

It's why he liked smoking. And why he liked smoking. He wouldn't say he was someone with a lot of sharp edges to begin with, but they helped smooth out whatever rough burrs that came from the every day were left over on his soul after a tough week.

If only he had made it to Lover's Lake before you asked.

He had made the next turn back onto the highway when you spoke.

"Do you think I'm hanging out with you because I pity you?" you broke the silence with a small voice, and when he looked over, you were playing with your fingers and gnawing at your bottom lip. You didn't look scared or upset, really. That was a bit of a relief. But...

"No, I didn't mean..." Eddie paused for a second, because actually...he didn't think you were hanging out with him out of pity. But he was just waiting for the moment you realized it wasn't worth hanging out with him anymore because he was pitiful.

So maybe it was just worth it to end this whole thing now and save himself some unexpected disappointment. Just like it had been with everyone else who suddenly dropped him like a hot potato.

"I mean yeah," he shrugged. "Look at you. And then look at me. We don't exactly make sense."

"Make what sense?"

"You're like...you have everything figured out, you have your whole life together, you're like...on top of the world. Got your promotion to Store Manager, your apartment, everything. Meanwhile--"

"Eddie."

"--I can't even finish high school, my band can't play a bigger crowd than the Hideout, I'm pretty sure I...accidentally sold my soul or something because Kyle hired me and I'm actually doing a good job? But where am I gonna be in 5 years, in 10? Probably still right where I am. I've literally screwed up everything I've ever put my mind to. It doesn't make sense."

"When things don't work out for us, when we're disappointed, yeah it does feel like nothing makes sense," you sighed. "But that's why you need to let the people around you who want to help you, actually help you.

"It's not a bad thing to accept he--Why are we back at the mall?" You suddenly asked as he pulled onto the Mall drive and headed towards the employee lot.

"Well I figure the night is over, I would take you back to your car," he shrugged weakly.

You opened your mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and nodded.

Yeah, that's what he thought.

He still got out of the van and opened the door for you when he parked next to your car, he offered you some chocolate to take home if you wanted, and he even kissed your hand before you got in the car to leave.

"See you around sweetheart," he said softly through your open window.

"See you Eddie, have a good night please," you offered a small smile. "Please...be good to yourself ok?"

He tucked his hands into his pockets and watched you drive away before he got back into the van.

Be good to himself.

Weird, but that definitely sounded better the "fuck you" he usually got when people disappeared from his life.

---

Except you didn't disappear from his life. You lived in the same town, worked at the same mall, for crying out loud; you still parked your car kind of close to his when he came in for the rest of his shifts that week. You didn't eat lunch together like you'd gotten used to doing...but he would still catch glimpses of you as you passed each other on break.

It was almost...back to how it was before he had gotten the nerve to go and talk to you that first time. You would smile and wave and he would look away. Neither of you said anything to one another, but you weren't hostile and neither was Eddie.

The 4th of July arrived and Eddie had to work. He had originally traded shifts with someone so he could do a short mid instead of a close and he'd forgotten to switch it back. But that meant he caught you leaving Tape World at the end of, what should have been, your 15 minute break.

"What was she doing here?" Eddie asked Kyle, who was surprisingly decked out in as much flag gear as he could get his hands on.

"Who? Oh your girlfriend?" Kyle pushed his star-shaped sunglasses up the bridge of his nose as he filed some receipts away. The grin on his face was obnoxious.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Uh huh. Sure. Well, her shop radio broke again and she forgot her tapes again," Kyle shrugged. "What else is new? Hey maybe if I send you up there on official Tape World Business, you two can make up and you can stop being such a fuckin' grump."

Eddie ignored him.

That night, there was no concert at Benny's but he and the guys did end up going to the fair and eating funnel cake until they puked.

They actually had a good time; they had even watched the musical lineup for a little while. Whatever the clerk at the Park Department had chosen wasn't nearly as good as Corroded Coffin would have been. And that knowledge, paired with Gareth's heckling and Jeff's booing, kind of made him feel a little better.

The following Sunday passed by without your usual date night. Eddie still passed by your store on the way out to the employee lot. You didn't look at him or wave this time, you were at the register going over something with, what looked to be, a new hire. You laughed and his chest hurt a little.

Eddie knew how much those little dates, how much those lunches and breaks spent together, really brightened up his week. But it wasn't until he didn't have them anymore that he realized just how strong of a foothold you had in his life in such a short amount of time.

He really should never have pushed you away like he had.

He had fucked up.

He missed you.

---

"Hey Ed, once you clock in can you check the shipment in?" Kyle asked as soon as Eddie crossed through the doors to start his shift the following Wednesday.

"Yeah, great," Eddie sighed. “No problem.”

It wasn’t that he hated checking the shipment in….it’s just that there were about a million other parts of working at Tape World that he liked better. Talking to customers, choosing what would play on the store radio for the duration of his shift…shit, even counting down the registers at night. But this was tedious. Busy work.

It was an endless stack of boxes and he needed to make sure what was inside matched the packing slip. Thousands of little tapes. Great.

"There's some special orders back there too, if you can give the customers a call!" Kyle hollered after Eddie as he slipped into the stock room. Sure enough, there were a few larger boxes propped up by the little break area.

Now that was something Eddie enjoyed a little more. He'd call the customers--usually some desk jockey who got themselves something to get through their mid-life crisis, or a parent getting some dream gift that their kid would forget about come next month--and tell them their special order had just arrived. Then typically, they would drop into the store that day or the next day and he would get to help them unpack and test out their brand new guitar.

Aside from selling the sparkling new guitars from one of the many catalogs at the counter, this was the best part of his job. And knowing he would get to do it immediately brought his mood up.

Eddie himself had been waiting for the day where a package would be there for him. On his first day, as they were setting up the store before the mall had even opened, he had unpacked the box of catalogs and found a doozy of guitar that he had his eye on: A BC Rich Warlock. And he had been putting money towards it with every paycheck. Tape World had a plan, just like the holiday layaway at K-Mart, and combined with his employee discount...he was almost there.

He dreamt about it as he grabbed a box and pulled the packing slip from where it was attached on the side of the box.

Maybe in the next few weeks? Next month? He'd come back here and the label would say...

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive/Unit F3

Eddie blinked.

Yeah. That's what it would say.

Wait. Was he still high from after last night's show? When they'd made a very late McDonalds run and smoked in Gareth's garage?

Edward Munson/Tape World/1 StarCourt Drive

He blinked again. Nope, still the same.

Edward Munson

"Well?" Eddie jumped at the sound of Kyle's voice by the stockroom door. He had his arms crossed and he had the biggest grin on his face. "You gonna open it or what?"

"What the fuck man? Where did this come from?" Eddie questioned.

"I would assume wherever BC Rich makes their guitars? California, I don't know. I work here, remember dingus?"

"No I mean," Eddie fumbled over his words. "I hadn't made the last payment, where did it...did you..."

"Look at the packing slip man," Kyle gestured. "The order form."

Eddie quickly flipped to the Tape World order form stapled to the packing slip. There were lines of his signatures, and the amount of money he had put down with each payment...and then at the very bottom...

A very intricate signature. Yours. And the last hundred dollar payment, marked in red pen.

No. You didn't. You couldn't have. When did you even?

"I told you she was your girlfriend," Kyle cackled. "I fuckin' told you."

Kyle had been gracious enough to let Eddie take an early lunch so he could find you...confront you...kiss you...Eddie wasn't sure yet.

You opened on Wednesdays so right about now you would be taking the cardboard out to the loading dock and then taking your last break. He knew because, if not for the fact that he hadn't talked to you in over a week, he would be right there with you.

Still you jumped in surprise when he burst onto the loading dock, the heavy dock door slamming into the brick wall, just as you were hitting the button on the baler.

"Jesus Christ, Eddie," you put your neon pink, fishnet glove-clad hand on your chest. "Gave me a heart attack."

"Why did you do it?" Eddie asked.

"Do what?"

"This," he pulled the order form from his back pocket and crossed the short distance to show you. He tapped on your signature several times. "Why would you do this for me?"

Your mouth formed a soft "oh" and you sighed.

"Because you're my friend," you explained as if it was obvious. "Because you've been really down and you needed cheering up."

"This isn't just...cheering a friend up. It's too much."

"It really isn't," you shook your head.

"It's a hundred dollars!"

"I have savings," you continued.

"And you have, like...rent and bills and stuff."

"So do you...you said you've been helping your uncle with rent and bills and stuff," you said in a way that mocked him. He gritted his teeth.

"I was gonna use my sales bonus for the final payment."

"Well I'm due for mine coming up too."

"I'm paying you back!" Eddie insisted.

"No you aren't. I wanted to do this for you so I did it."

"If you felt sorry for me or--"

"I just wanted to cheer you up Eddie!" You exclaimed, slamming your hands on the baler button again in finality, as if crushing the already-crushed cardboard was somehow going to drive your point home. "I don't feel sorry for you. I don't pity you. You're my friend and you were really down, disappointed.

"Tell me yes or no? Were you on the verge of giving up? Yes or no, right now."

Eddie froze.

No he wouldn't. Except...hadn't he? There was no 4th of July Fair, which meant there also wasn't a show at Benny's. Their last set at the Hideout wasn't...well he wasn't as good as he could have been. As good as he usually was.

Maybe he had...given up on himself a little. Let the self pity get the best of him.

"No," was the answer he gave you though.

Your eyes hardened and narrowed in challenge. You placed your hands on your hips and stood toe to toe with him and although he was the taller one between the two of you, it certainly felt like you were a giantess towering over him, complete with layers of fishnet and rayon and tulle fluttering in the slight breeze off the loading dock.

"Maybe you didn't hear yourself in the van after Benny's but I did," you began. "You felt like everyone pitied you, that no one was your friend or on your side. You were alone, and in place of real pain and disappointment, and you said you were tired. What is the point of trying anymore, you're tired. You said that, Eddie. You did.

"And I've been there, ok? I'm not that much older than you but I kind of am in a different stage of my life. So I'm sorry if I've ever made it seem like things are easy for me...I'm sure in some aspects they are, but in others...yeah I've been there. It's hard not to compare yourself to others when you're down, but also, you can't just...push people away or think that they're taking pity on you when they're just trying to help.

"And I know it's hard to get over that little hurdle of feeling like everything is a trick or a trap and accept nice things from other people, so excuse me if I took the initiative to do it without your permission. Because when I was at a place of giving up and not wanting help or advice, someone did that for me. So I'm doing it for you now. And I would do it again in a heartbeat."

Eddie stared directly into your eyes as he processed everything. Back and forth, left and right, as your heavy breathing went back to normal.

"Because, if you fail to remember, you have been doing nice things for me these past few weeks, and you really haven't let me return the favor quite yet, so if you don't want to accept that I'm just doing something nice for a friend, then accept that I'm paying you back for all the nice things you've done for me."

He swallowed and looked down at his feet for a moment.

"It was just...some pizzas and snacks--"

"And chili cheese fries, and surprise sodas on the days we don't have our breaks at the same time, and that movie ticket, and dinner at Benny's, and all the gas you've used to drive us around when at this point I can probably navigate town by myself," you finished for him.

Eddie did a mental tally and yeah, you were right. He did do all of those things, and no, he hadn't and probably still wouldn't let you return the favor if you gave him the chance to be your friend again.

"I know friendship isn't supposed to be transactional, but the scale has been tipped immensely towards you, so instead of just sitting back and watching you feel like a failure and give up on your dream because some stupid...I don't know, festival...person has no taste in music, I wanted to do something to surprise you. To cheer you up."

"Why haven't you talked to me then?" he asked.

"What do you mean? You haven't been talking to me," you laughed. "I've been waving and saying hello...you dropped me off at my car that night and then...you haven't even looked at me since. So I figured you just needed the space. I get that too; needing some time, some space."

"I guess I thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore," Eddie replied lamely. Because yeah, you had been doing those things. Maybe...maybe you were right, maybe he did need the space too. God, you were such a know it all. "I'm here now."

"Yeah I see that," you deadpanned. "Hi."

"Hi," Eddie parroted. "Thank you. For the surprise. I really...really was...surprised."

"Of course, any time," you nodded. "How are you feeling? Any better?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Just like you said, I needed some time to work it out. Spent some time with the guys, it cheered me up."

"Good."

"You missed out on all the carnival food. Made the guys ride the tilt a whirl...Gareth's puke was purple."

"Yeah," you scrunched your nose. "I really missed out."

"There's always next year."

"Great." You offered him a small smile. "We good?"

"Yeah. You still want to hang out with me on Sunday? I, uh, really missed you."

"I missed you too. Maybe...you can give me a private show this Sunday? With your shiny new guitar? Only if you're up for it, of course."

"Absolutely. Sundays with you are my..." Eddie hesitated.

Should he say it? Would it scare you away?

Before he could finish, you put your hand on his arm and squeezed.

"They're mine too."

---

Next Part: Interview Prep

Sales Associates (AKA the tag list): @gaysludge @storiesbyrhi @tayhar811 @spookybabey @word-wytch @maidenofartemis @dreamlandcreations @wickedbelle @blue-eyed-lion @aysheashea @blue-mossbird @abibliophobiaa @jabbatheslutt420 @ghost-proofbaby @bakugouswh0r3 @ghostinthebackofyourhead

If you weren't given any hours this week (aka if you aren't already tagged or if I forgot to tag you) let me know via ask or comment. I'm sure I can find some extra payroll.

#Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things fluff #store manager verse

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shhh-secret-time · 4 months

Note

HIII could you do Kyle x reader where it's a soulmate au?? plsss and thank uuu

Anon you were so patient with me! Thank you! And thank you for requesting my favorite boy! I'm so down bad for the sweet red head.

Warning: Strong Language, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

Pairings: Kyle x GN!Reader

'Oh my god! I'm going to fucking kill him.'

The tips of your fingers traced the golden ink like sentence on your palm, watching as the cursive font danced across your skin. It happened every morning at eight on the dot, a new sentence would sketch itself into your skin. When it first happened, you thought maybe someone drew on you when you weren't paying attention, especially since the next day the words changed. But the font was beautiful and shimmered in the light, what pen could do something like that?

Later as the years went by you learned that apparently you had a soulmate, and these were their thoughts. Whoever they were scared you sometimes with the things they thought about, usually very violent thoughts. It made you wonder what type of person they were. I mean you were sure they wouldn't act on it; you've thought tons of things but that didn't mean you were a bad person. It almost made you wonder what your soulmate thought of your inner voice.

South Park was a small town, not many people chose to actually live in a town that was riddled with a backwater run down mentality. It was famous for all the wrong reasons, but that meant everyone kind of knew each other, or at the very least of each other. The kids you went to elementary with followed you to middle and you followed them to high school. Now here you were in community college sitting in the library with the few people you could call friends.

Bebe Steven's was the first person to call you a friend, so her friends became yours, adopting you into their little group. A close-knit group of people who cared about you, what more could you ask for?

"I can't do it anymore Wendy, please!" Speaking of the blonde, the poor girl was slumped over the table with her cheek pressed into the math textbook. Her bottom lip was poking out and if you didn't know her so well you would swear those crocodile tears were real.

"Bebe you barley passed the last test, and that's because you were copying off of Nicole!" Wendy sighed as she gave into the pitiful whine of her friend, reaching over to pat the top of her curls.

"I knoooow but can't we just have a little break? Pleaaaase! I need to spill some tea!" Bebe sprung up and you knew what was coming. Bebe had a secret weapon, the most powerful puppy eyes in South Park. Before Wendy could avert her eyes, she delivered the killing blow. "Please Wendy? Just ten minutes~ it's super hooooot tea~."

You smiled softly at the both of them, shooting Wendy a look of pity as you watched in real time her lose the internal battle. Wendy's shoulders slumped forward, and she finally smiled.

"Fine...ten minutes and then we're going back to work."

"Yes!" Bebe cheered as she threw her arms around Wendy, pulling her into a tight hug. "SO, guess who found their soulmate!"

You tensed up at the subject maybe without even realizing it, you pulled your sleeve over your palm and held it up to your mouth. You had a horrible habit of chewing on your bottom lip to keep yourself from protesting the conversation.

"Who?"

"Mercedes!"

"Like...waitress Mercedes?"

"Yeaaah! Ugh she's so lucky! I wanna find mine already! At least you're in the same boat I am." Pulling herself from Wendy, Bebe turned to look at you with a smile.

"Y... yeah. Wait Wendy is too, isn't she?" You muttered past your sleeve.

"No! Wendy already knows hers! She's just not doing anything about it!" Bebe sneered and crossed her arms under her chest, her lips pursed into a pout.

"But...why?"

"I just want to focus on me right now. School is important and I don't know, I've got time." Wendy replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

You stared at her in awe, there were times when you couldn't help but admire her. Wendy seemed like she had it all figured out, like she knew what she wanted from life and wasn't afraid to grab ahold of it.

Maybe you should take a page from her book, start doing things for you. The fear of your soulmate being some terrifying violent person shouldn't stop you from at least trying to find them.

It was as if the conversation was breathing life back into Bebe, she perked up and grinned at you. But when your eyes met hers all you could see was the mischief in them, if you didn't know better you'd swear it was excitement.

"Apparently the closer you get to your soulmate the words on your palm with change! You'll be able to tell what they're thinking in real time! Haaaave yours changed yet?" Bebe sung out, her hands reaching across the table to gentle take yours.

She flipped your hand over, so your palms were facing up, her beautiful done red nails seemed to contrast yours. She traced them across the font on your palm with a hum. "Or are you like Wendy and you're waiting? You've gotta know right?"

"N...no I don't. I've been-", you stopped and bit your bottom lip again, "... kind of afraid to find out who it is."

"What? Why?" Bebe took your hand and gave it a squeeze like she was trying to reassure you to keep going.

That's when you pulled your sleeve up the whole way so she could see the rest of the sentence. Their eyes widened and silence fell over the three of you. You kept your eyes on your lap as you let them read it so you missed Wendy's little head tilt. The words ringing in her ears like she could hear it. No, it couldn't be...could it?

"Well, they're just thoughts, right? It's not like whoever it is will actually do it! Come on hun you can't let that stop you! Just, like, pay extra close to your palm today! There might be something sweet on there if they're nearby!"

You furrowed your brows at that if they were nearby? Maybe it was a little harder to tell when everyone in the school wore gloves because of how cold it was, you included. After a few moments of debating between everything you nodded at her and decided you'd keep your gloves off today. With that Wendy's phone chimed letting your little group know that your ten minutes were up, and it was time to get back to studying, but now you were out of it. You couldn't focus on learning anything else but your palm, watching the font like if you blinked you'd miss it.

But nothing changed, the threat on your palm stayed for the rest of the study session. With a sigh you packed your things and got ready to leave the library, the girls hugging you tightly as they went their own way. Leaving into the halls of the school, passing past other students whose voices seemed to fade into the background. But despite your attempts to smother everyone else out, no one could really tune out South Park's famous boys. Stan and Kyle were standing by their lockers talking and for once it was Stan that seemed to be getting under Kyle's skin.

"Dude, this is the fourth time you've blown me off! Come on, we made these plans last week!"

"I know man, but the band needs me! We've got a gig coming up and we have to get more practice in! I'm sorry Kyle, I'll make it up to you!" Stan shot him an apologetic look.

Kyle sighed and simply rolled his eyes, "Sure dude, one of these days I'm going to cash in all of the times you said you'll make it up to me."

Stan let out a laugh and wrapped his arm around the taller man's neck bringing him down to his level. You smiled at the both of them, you didn't know Stan very well, but Kyle was always nice to you. You admired the fact that he always spoke his mind, whoever his soulmate was had to be the luckiest person on earth. Not only because of how sweet he was, but again he always spoke his mind, there was no guessing at what he was thinking. You peered down at your palm again and blinked in surprise, it had changed.

'He's lucky he's my best friend.'

Oh. Oh.

'Are they looking at me? Do I have something on my face?'

You could feel your heart rate pick up, eyes bouncing between your palm and Kyle. Your head was now on a swivel looking around as if the answers would emerge out of the many groups walking around. When Stan broke away from Kyle with his guitar on his back, the red head began putting his books away. There you stood, glued to this spot watching him with intense eyes. So, when he turned and saw your passionate gaze he couldn't help but flinch on the spot, but he couldn't tear his eyes from you.

Your palm changed again. You couldn't believe it. Just a minute ago you were telling your two best friends about how you were afraid to meet your soulmate and now here he was. This felt almost too cliche, like the universe was tired of you trying to run from it. And now here you were standing in the hall, a few steps away from someone who was supposed to be yours. Did he know? Probably not from how quiet you were and how you liked to keep to yourself. So now here you were with all that knowledge and nowhere to run.

'Their eyes are so pretty; I don't know why I've never noticed before.'

Was he trying to kill you? You felt the compliment go straight to your heart, making it speed up. Your face was turning red at his words, even if he didn't say them, you could almost hear them. You felt something in your chest tug you towards him, like your heart was leaping in his direction and demanding that you listen to it. Kyle watched as you made your way to where he was standing, moving through the halls like nothing else matters.

"Um...hey, is everything okay?" Kyle nervously looked down at you, he couldn't help wondering why his heart was racing so hard.

Sure, you were attractive, but that wasn't all you were. Sure, he really liked your laugh when he heard you talking with Bebe and Wendy, and he secretly wished he made you laugh like that. Sure, you had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, but he would never tell you that. How could he? What if you thought he was a freak and oh my god you're saying something and he's not paying attention.

"- so yeah, can you take your gloves off for me?"

"H-huh my gloves? Uh sure." Kyle shook himself out of his trance, he didn't know why you needed his gloves off but that was his fault for not paying attention.

As he removed his gloves you got a glance at his palm looking for any signs of words on his palm.

'I never realized how tall he is.' Those were your thoughts. Your thoughts were on his palm, and he doesn't even realize it yet.

"Did you need to borrow them? Are you cold?" He's asking you with such a soft voice, care laced in his tone.

"No no I just um okay this is going to sound really strange... b-but can you think of an animal for me?"

"An... animal? Like my favorite animal?"

"Sure. That works." You chuckled at the confusion on his face, brows furrowed together in deep thought which was exactly what you wanted.

'Fox.' That's cute.

"Your favorite animal is a fox?" You asked looking up from your palm with a smile.

"Huh but I... how did-" He stopped. The whole situation came crashing down onto him, his mouth opened to say something, but nothing would come out. So now he just looked like a fish gasping for air.

"Yeah I- wow this is it. I think you're my soul-mate Kyle." As you showed him your palm you almost had to laugh about how many times you've flashed it at people today.

Those deep forest green eyes of his watched the golden light on your palm swirl and change as his thoughts did. The tips of his ears turn red as he desperately tries to keep his thoughts under control, soulmate or not he didn't want to scare you off with stupid shit his brain comes up with.

"Is um...is your favorite animal on my palm too?" No. It wasn't.

'His eyes are like emeralds.'

"You think my eyes are like emeralds?"

"You think my smile is cute?" You shot back with a small smirk making him look away, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

Kyle and you stood in silence for a few moments, hearts racing and nervous shifting from foot to foot. "So, um...my weekend is free do you wanna grab a coffee?"

"I'd love to get coffee with you Kyle~" You let out a laugh, your hand coming up to cover your smile, but it was stopped by his.

The warmth of his hand beating back the chill of yours, they were softer than you thought they'd be. His thumb nervously rubs against your knuckles enjoying the way your hand felt in his, so much smaller but it fit so perfectly. Kyle smiled brightly at your response, a wave of relief washing over him and a breath he didn't know he was holding. He took the first step towards the door with you in tow, a soft glow between the both of you. Something deep inside of you felt complete, like pieces of a puzzle or links of a chain.

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sharkneto · 11 days

Text

Life's been crazy busy, but it's been too long since I shared any writing. Some WIP sharing has been going around, so I'll jump on the bandwagon. It's not a WIP, actually (I lied), but it is a "deleted scene" of sorts from my fic Holding It Together. To set the scene, the Hargreeves are killing time while the Fives (+Sarah) are working to figure out where Five's math went wrong---

“—that doesn’t even make sense. No, I’m right,” Diego complains, frowning at Klaus next to him at the counter. Viktor shrugs, exchanging a glance with Allison beside him as they lean against a cupboard. Movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention and he spots Number starting to step into the kitchen, see they’re in the middle of an argument, and retreat.

Klaus catches him, too. “Number, Number, Number!” he calls, waving his hands for their not-brother to join them, leaning precariously off his stool. Luther shifts in his chair at the table, an aborted move to catch him if he fell off.

It’s a long second as they watch Number decide if he wants to get in the middle of their discussion. Klaus keeps waving his hand, smile plastered on his face. Number sighs and enters, slipping past Allison and Viktor to get to the sink. His attention pauses at the beers they’re all nursing, a pointed noting of each one they’re holding, before he makes it to the corner to get a glass out of the cupboard to fill with water. “What,” he says, wary.

“Perfect timing,” Klaus says. “Important question for you.”

Number finishes filling his glass and turns to face them all. He raises one unimpressed eyebrow. Viktor smiles at the familiar expression.

“If you were an animal, what animal would you be?”

Number blinks, as if waiting for there to be more. Then he asks, “What?”

“If you were an animal, what you would be?” Klaus repeats. He folds his hands in front of him to wait patiently.

Number’s face twitches. “What animal would I be.”

“Yes! Like, like, like, me,” Klaus splays his hands against his chest, “I’m a flamingo.”

“A… flamingo.” His voice is so flat.

“Yes! One of those ones in gardens.”

“Made of plastic?”

“Yes! I’m eternal.”

Number’s expression pinches as he processes that, but it’s fond.

Klaus waves a hand at him again. “Now it’s your turn.”

He considers them all, back to unimpressed, before he says, “No.”

“No?” Klaus starts to pout, exaggerated and off-putting.

“No,” Number repeats. He starts to move towards the door. “This is so stupid. This is really what you’re all in here arguing about? We’re in the other room trying to fix time and space and you’re talking about animals?”

Viktor shrugs again, an idea to get Number to play forming. “Diego is a wolf, according to him.”

“I am a wolf!” Diego defends.

They ignore him. Viktor continues, nonchalant as he can while cornering Number, “And that’s exactly what Five said, too.”

Number stiffens. “You asked him?”

“Yeah, when he came through a little bit ago. He said this was stupid and wasn’t going to do it, either.”

His jaw shifts. His gaze flicks to the door. His shoulders slump slightly. He rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh, but he stays, leaning back on the sink again. Viktor tries to clamp down on his smile, the corner of his mouth still twitching up. Luther catches his eye and raises an eyebrow – he’s impressed. Viktor’s lips curl more.

It’s quiet for a long second.

“Well?” Allison asks.

“I have to think of a goddamn animal,” Number complains, focus on the middle of the floor while he thinks, one hand in his pocket while the other holds his forgotten water glass.

The siblings exchange a smile – Number might think it’s stupid, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to give a stupid answer. It’s very Five.

Viktor is pleased with himself. He knew that would work. Five actually had played along after similar grumbling, although he’d had a quicker response (“Fine, I’ll play. Uhh… A cockroach, I’d be a cockroach. There. Happy? I have math to do.”) and left before they could talk to him about it. They’d moved on to Diego rather than sit in the weight of that answer.

Diego leans to Klaus and Viktor only hears his whispered, “Bet he picks the same thing as the old man?” thanks to his super-hearing. Klaus frowns minutely and shakes his head.

“Twenty bucks he picks something else,” he whispers back. They quietly shake on it.

Viktor smiles to himself – he’s pretty sure neither of them currently has twenty bucks. They’re all strapped for cash and are relying heavily on the Walters’ generosity.

After a minute of thought and when the siblings are starting to get impatient, Number announces, “Crow.”

There’s another flurry of exchanged looks – none of them had expected that.

“A crow?” Luther asks.

“Yep. Good?” He starts to leave again.

“Why?” Diego asks.

Number stops again. “Crow. They’re smart, problem solvers, inquisitive, ingenious. Good memory, they hold grudges. It fits.” He shrugs. Because he’s a Five, he doesn’t try to play off any of his explanation with a humble smile or laugh. He means it. The only hint of self-deprecation he has for any of this is around that he’s playing the game with them, although they can tell he’s pleased with his answer.

Klaus tilts his head, considering the answer. “They’re really family-oriented, too, aren’t they. With their murders.”

Number’s expression blanks as the siblings start to grin.

“Crow does fit, then,” Diego teases.

“Are we your murder, Numerino?” Klaus asks, pouting again for effect.

Number has hunched in on himself a little. “No,” he says, too defensive. “I gave you my answer, I gave you my reasons, I’m not responsible for things I didn’t know about fucking crows.”

Luther speaks up from behind Diego and Klaus, “You can just love us, Number. We love you, too. Even the us here.”

“Yeah,” Viktor adds. “It’s hard for it to not fit when we know the other you survived the literal apocalypse because he loved us so much.”

Number hunches further. His ears are just barely turning pink. He pulls on a sharp, aggressive smile. “Look. Your game is stupid, I gave you an answer, you are free to nitpick and not like it all you want. Not my problem.” He looks at them all, ending at Klaus. “And if you’re going to have a problem with anyone’s answer, it should be Klaus. A fucking flamingo? He’s obviously a raccoon. This game is idiotic but if you’re doing it, at least do it right.” And with that, he’s gone with a flash and a whumpf. They hear Sarah’s quiet greeting as he reappears in the living room.

They all sit for a second, staring at the spot Number used to be.

Then Allison leaks a small laugh. “I forgot he used to win arguments like that. I can’t believe he still does. He’s twenty-three, right?”

Luther smiles with her. “Can’t lose if the other person can’t make a counterpoint. I think the last time he did that with me was…” He trails off, smile slipping.

They all know what the last time was, seventeen years ago.

It was about time travel.

“A crow and a cockroach,” Viktor says eventually. “I wish Five had said crow, cockroach is depressing.”

“It kinda fits…” Diego says, point trailing off as they all give him a look.

Klaus asks, “Does Five know what crows are?”

“Fei had a whole bunch back in the Sparrow timeline,” Luther points out.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Klaus says, waving that away with a hand, “but does he know about crows. That they’re – what did Number say? – smart, problem solvers, inquisitive, ingenious, and murder oriented. Shit, I bet Five doesn’t know enough animals to pick a good one.”

Luther sighs. “And we know he does really know cockroaches.”

It’s an awkward beat as they all involuntarily think about how many cockroaches Five must have eaten in his life.

“We could ask…” Viktor stops as he realizes how stupid this question he’s about to ask is, but he commits anyway. “Ask if he wants to be a crow instead?”

“Ask Five if he wants his animal to be a crow instead of a cockroach for a game he already thinks is dumb. And is actually dumb,” Diego deadpans.

“He probably wouldn’t want to be a crow because Number said it, anyway,” Allison saves.

They at least can smile at one another over the Fives’ forever grudge against one another.

“Man,” Klaus sighs. “Maybe I am actually a raccoon.”

Luther glances at him. “They do have the little… hands.” He moves one of his huge hands in a pinching motion that might be supposed to evoke the tiny grabbing hands of a raccoon.

Diego gives a noncommittal shrug.

Viktor stares at them all and shakes his head, although he’s smiling. “The Fives were right, this is really stupid.”

Allison gives him a sideways look. “What else do we have to do until Five figures out how to get us home?”

“Good point.”

“So,” Klaus says, clapping his hands, “I think that brings us to dear Allison. I’m feeling… a bird for you.”

Her gaze cools as her attention snaps to him. “If you’re saying that only because of my power, I’m going to make you walk outside and stand in the snow until you think of something better.”

“It was just a starting point!”

#this was born from a silly conversation with pluto as many snips are #i don't remember if we actually figured out what everyone's animals would be #there definitely /was/ an awful awkward moment when they got to luther #and all involuntarily thought ''gorilla'' - at least they've grown enough that none of them said it #but they all /knew/ all the others were thinking it. sorry luther #tua #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy fic #tua fic #snip #snips #hit #number #i truly never remember what my snip tag is

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