#(what does that have to do with anything being discussed right now????? like yeah she is but that isn't why she wasn't a queen???)
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Oooo hear me out, it's up to you, something inspired by "me and the devil" by soap&skin for platonic arthur and reader?
(AN: Lmfao this is smth else, hope this caught the essence of the song!)
Warnings: Not incest, strictly platonic, fluff
ââŕ¨Pre-campŕ§ââ
Youâd always been content with the fact that Arthur and your friends hadnât crossed paths yet. After all, thereâs something universally embarrassing about siblings mingling with your friends, especially a brother like him. But today, fate seemed to be laughing at you.
You waited on the porch of Mrs Anne's house with Isla, Faye, and Mavis, caught up in a lively discussion that had everyone too engaged to notice time passing, mostly about what happened in your classes today. Usually, your friends would have left by now, but something had kept the whole group lingering in a close-knit circle.
âAlright, guys, we should really go,â Faye finally said, glancing around. Isla nodded, then smirked at you.
âOh, right,â she teased. âForgot youâre waiting for him. Where is he? Late again?â
You clutched your bag, trying to brush it off casually. âHeâll be here soon. You guys can head out if you want.â
Please do, please do, please do-
Before anyone could move, Mavis stretched lazily and patted your arm. âBy the way, weâve never actually seen him. I mean, I havenât.â
âTrust me, heâs⌠well, you donât want to,â Isla added, chuckling with an odd mix of awe and apprehension. âI have, and heâs terrifying, honestly.â
âIs he?" Faye raised an eyebrow at Isla's earlier comment. âI mean, your dadâs not like that. Quite normal, actually, like heâs nice.â
You rolled your eyes. "Isla, he's just a bit...tall that's it. Which to be honest I hate. I mean like how dare he be taller than me! Eugh. Anyway, you guys, he's nice too, much nicer than Dad I would say-"
"But I never saw him smile." God, Isla. She's literally your younger annoying sister who can't shut up, at this point.
"He does smile!"
You could feel Mavis and Fayeâs curiosity prickling at Arthurâs character, especially since they had no clue about his line of work. Isla, though, knew enough, which left her more spooked than skeptical. You nudged her with a playful yet pointed elbow, a silent but clear Donât spill the beans, or Iâll make you spill your teeth. Thankfully, she caught on quickly.
âYeah, itâs more of a⌠âyou had to be thereâ situation,â Isla tried to wave it off, though her tone just made things more awkward. Before anyone could respond, a voice drifted over the porch, a voice that could freeze or haunt your dreams.
Arthur had arrived.
â(Y/n)!â Arthurâs voice cut through the chatter, and all four of you turned to see him, perched on his horse, dressed head-to-toe in black. But what really set your teeth on edge was the bullet belt strapped across his chest along with some guns, a blatant display of everything youâd been trying to hide. You glanced back at your friends, who stared in wide-eyed shock as if Arthur had just ridden straight out of a legend, or a nightmare. Isla, though, wore a triumphant smirk, her dramatic warnings about your âscaryâ brother proven right.
You shot them all a quick, apologetic goodbye before rushing over, and Arthur extended a gloved hand down to help you onto the horse. âHurry your ass up,â he muttered. His gaze was sharp and impatient, and you climbed up with a sigh, half-irritated and half-resigned.
âMaybe you should try being patient, too,â you shot back, settling in behind him. The horse sprang forward as you waved at your friends over your shoulder, watching their stunned faces disappear into the distance as you and Arthur rode away.
Arthurâs gaze was sharp as he maneuvered the horse down the path, his voice edged with something darker. âYour friends looked like theyâd seen death itself when I rode up. Got anything to explain?â
You tried for a casual laugh, but it came out shaky. âMaybe because you showed up looking like you were ready for a showdown, Arthur. You could have been less armed...y'know.?â
He glanced back at you with a smirk that didnât quite reach his eyes. âLess armed?
âYeah, you didnât have to look like you were coming to take me hostage,â you teased, though there was a tinge of nerves in your voice. âYou nearly gave poor Mavis a heart attack.â
âMaybe she needs it,â he muttered with a hint of amusement, his hand gripping the reins tighter. âAinât my problem if your friends are scared of a bit of leather and metal. And excuse me , for not tryin' to make you wait and rushing here after the job."
You rolled your eyes, but decided to switch gears. âAnyway! Artieee....
Artie = I want something.
"Whatâs really important is that Iâm starving.â
âDonât tell me you didnât cook nothinâ today,â he said, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone.
Panic struck, and you scrambled for an excuse. âWell, I did cook even with a terrible headache, but Dad was starving, and he, uh⌠had some friends over, so they polished off everything.â You added a dramatic sigh for good measure, hoping itâd sell the story.
Arthur raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but too tired to argue. âHim and his damned pals. You couldnât save a single bite, huh?â
âBelieve me, if I couldâve, I wouldâve,â you lied, trying to keep a straight face. Truth is, you did cook and there was still food left for dinner but you were craving something else. Your Dad would definitely side with your lie anyway so why not take advantage of the opportunity.
"SoâŚhow about we grab some dinner? Just a little something for your favourite sister?â
Arthur groaned, but you could tell he was caving, being starved himself, âFine."
You grinned, hugging his back as the horse picked up speed, your stomach already dreaming of food. Knew youâd come through, brother.
âââ
ââŕ¨Post-campŕ§ââ
"So what's up with you?" Micahâs voice broke through the quiet, his tone drawn out in that infuriatingly lazy way, like he didnât care about anything in the world. You kept your focus on the book in your hands, not bothering to give him the satisfaction of an answer.
"I mean, I know itâs only my second visit to the camp and all, but at least the other women talk. You, though..." His voice rose just a little, like he was trying to provoke you.
You didnât flinch. The page turned, your eyes still scanning the words.
Micah, noticing he wasnât getting any attention, stepped closer, his boots scraping against the dirt. "Hey! Whatâs up with all the attitude from you girls around here? I swear, the prettier they are, the more attitude theyâve got."
That was it. You set the book down, slowly, deliberately, and looked up at him with a level stare, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing your face.
"You should go, if you want to keep breathing," you said flatly, voice laced with a coldness that mightâve warned him to stop before things escalated.
He smirked letting out a scoff, clearly not taking you seriously. "Oh really? Why, doll? Whatâs so special about you?"
You didnât answer. Instead, you let your gaze shift to the side, barely looking at him as you spoke, "My brother wonât be happy."
Micah blinked, caught off guard. "Brother? Who--"
Before he could finish, a heavy, familiar hand fell on his shoulder, spinning him around with ease. "Me." Arthurâs voice was low, smooth, and cold, a tone that instantly made the air around them feel heavier.
Micahâs face drained of color as he took in the sight of Arthur, standing tall and unwavering, his stare unblinking and intense. The recognition hit him hard, and the cocky grin that had been on his face moments ago faltered, turning into an awkward grimace.
"Oh...right, I see the resemblance now," he stammered, his confidence crumbling beneath Arthurâs unblinking gaze. "Didnât know... didn't know it was you."
Arthurâs eyes darkened as he took a slow step toward Micah, his presence undeniable and terrifying. âYou didnât know, huh?â His voice was low, dangerous. âLet me make something clear, Micah. If you ever think itâs alright to speak to my sister like that again, you wonât have the chance to be this sorry.â
Micahâs smile faltered as he looked from Arthurâs hard face to yours, clearly realizing just how deep his mistake ran. He hesitated, then muttered, âI didnât mean any harm, just jokinâ around cowboy, yâknow?â
Arthur didnât flinch, didnât blink. His grip tightened slightly, and Micahâs hands immediately went up in surrender. âYeah, you shouldâve known better,â Arthur growled, his voice dropping even lower. âI donât appreciate anyone talking down to my sister or any woman in the camp for that matter. Got it?â
Micahâs breath hitched, and his eyes darted between Arthur and you, his legs wobbling a bit under the pressure of the enforcerâs glare. He took a step back, quickly distancing himself, his earlier bravado long gone. âI, Iâll just go... No harm meant, alright?â
Arthur didnât speak, only watched him with unwavering intensity, his posture stiff and unyielding, until Micah turned on his heel and hastily retreated, all but running.
Once Micah disappeared into the distance, Arthur exhaled slowly, his gaze now shifting back to you with a slight softening in his demeanor. âYou good?â
"Hm. Thanks for that by the way." You answered nonchalantly, already reaching for your book again, satisfied with how things had gone. But before you could dive back into it, Arthur snatched it away from you with a swift motion.
"Wha--"
âGo fuckinâ read in your damn tent,â he snapped.
You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his mood. âHey, donât take your anger out on me too. I didnât do anything.â
Arthurâs eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, still holding the book just out of your reach. âYouâre sitting here, reading, like nothing happened.â
"So I just stop existing because... what? Men like him exist?!" You shot back, annoyance flashing in your gaze.
He sighed, clearly over it. "Yeah, yeah, you win the debate, but for now, go. He still has some work left here in the camp. You stay inside. Now stop yapping and go before I-"
You cut him off with a dramatic roll of your eyes, but you didnât want to test his patience. Grumbling, you stood up and scurried toward your tent, throwing a glare in his direction as you went. Arthur didnât bother replying, just watching you with an unreadable expression as you ducked inside. You couldn't stop yourself from imagining how he was still standing there, no doubt watching over the camp with that ever-present watchfulness of his.
But deep down, there was a strange comfort in knowing Arthur was there, looking out for you. You couldnât help but feel grateful for the sense of security his presence brought, even if it came with its moments of irritation.
You were luckier than most women, the ones who had no one to protect them, to guard their well-being when this society felt too harsh. You had never had to face that, not completely.
Your brother couldâve just left you to fend for yourself when both of your parents died. He couldâve given up, and let the weight of responsibility crush him. He couldâve taken the easy route, let you fend for yourself, but he didnât. He chose to provide, to protect. And that, in itself, was something you could never take for granted.
You smiled softly to yourself as you opened your book again, getting comfy. It wasnât perfect, your life, and it didnât come without its complications, but it was yours, and you knew you werenât alone in it. Arthurâs attempts, and his constant presence, always reminded you that no matter what happened, he would always try. That thought made everything a little easier to bear.
Speaking of....
You were tailing behind Arthur as he checked the items on the list. Just another day buying out supplies when your eyes caught the movement outside the general storeâs window. A man was yanking a woman by the arm, his grip forceful, and he struck her hard before pulling her toward a nearby house.
Your heart hammered. âArthurâŚâ
âHold on.â He didnât look up, tossing another can into the basket you held.
âArthur!â Your voice trembled as you grabbed his arm. âThat woman⌠Heâs hitting her. Arenât you going to do something?â
He finally glanced at you, an irritated look flickering across his face until he saw the worry in your eyes. He followed your gaze out the window, his expression darkening as he took in the scene.
âThat bastardâs beating herâŚâ you hissed. âIâll go to the sheriff if you wonât.â You started to take a step, but Arthurâs hand shot out, gripping your arm like iron.
âHey, hey! You ainât runninâ off to the station,â he growled, his tone as unyielding as his grip. âCalm down.â
âCalm down?â You tried to pull away, anger mixing with shock. âHow can you say that when she needs help?!â
The shopkeeper, who had been eavesdropping, chimed in with a lazy shrug. âThatâs Carter for you. Mean drunk, that one. Nothing new around here.â
"Arthur," you insisted, voice edged with urgency, "we canât just stand here and ignore this! Youâve got to do something!â
He looked back at you, his eyes narrowing with frustration mixed with something softer, a concern he rarely showed outright. âAnd what, exactly, would you have me do? Burst in there? People like him, theyâve got the whole damn town used to their mess. It ainât as simple as you think.â
You clenched your fists, your heart pounding. âSo we just let it happen!?â
Arthur scoffed, glancing down at the basket you held with a resigned shake of his head. "Iâm not sayinâ we do nothing. Iâm sayinâ weâre not the ones here to play heroes every time some bastard acts up." He looked away, jaw tight. But then suddenly, your dejected face stung something within him. It always does.
"Fine, but let's get this shopping done first."
You bounced impatiently on your heels as Arthur went through the rest of the list, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally loaded up the last of the supplies. He gestured for you to sit in the wagon while he headed off to âhandle things.â Minutes later, you watched as the blonde woman stumbled out of the house, her face streaked with tears. You jumped off the wagon and hurried over, helping her onto the seat beside you.
âDonât worry, your husband will definitely rot in the jai-â
The words barely left your mouth when the sharp crack of gunshots rang out from the house. A moment later, Arthur sprinted out, leaping onto the wagon and snapping the reins with urgency, the horses lurching into a gallop.
âWhat--what was that?â you stammered, glancing at him in shock. Even the woman had stopped sobbing, her eyes wide as she clung to the edge of the wagon.
Arthur shot you a level look, his tone matter-of-fact. âI did what you asked.â
âI said jail, not⌠not blowing his brains out!â
âIf you think they take in men jus' for that, you still have a lot to learn, and aren't you happy...? That son of a bitch had it comin',â he replied calmly, not sparing you a glance as he kept his gaze on the road ahead.
You fell silent, a part of you taken aback but another part feeling a grudging agreement with his logic. The jail thing was indeed a dumb idea. You do feel happy. "You know what? Youâre absolutely right, probably the best thing you ever did,â you murmured, giving a subtle, reassuring smile to the woman sitting beside you. She was still in shock, her hands trembling as she took it all in. You deliberately missed Arthur giving you a dirty look on your comment.
âUm, donât worry,â you said softly. âYouâre safe now. He deserved it.â
The womanâs gaze flickered, her fear giving way to hesitant relief as she managed a weak nod. âDamn right he did,â she added, her voice firm. "I kinda...I always wanted to do that."
You giggled, glancing back at her with a grin. âToday's your lucky day then. Whatâs your name? Mineâs (Y/N) Morgan and this is my brother, Arthur.â
She took a shuddering breath, her voice barely above a whisper. âK-Karen.â
âDo you have anywhere to go, Miss Karen?â Arthur interjected, his tone gruff but not unkind.
âN-not really,â she mumbled, looking down, her hands twisting in her lap.
Arthur shot you a look that clearly said, You started this. Now what the hell are we supposed to do?
You cleared your throat, searching for the right words. âUm, the thing is, Karen⌠we, uh, well, we live in a camp where people are⌠letâs just say, not exactly law-abidin-â
âWeâre outlaws,â Arthur cut in, his tone blunt as always.
âO-outlaws?â Karenâs eyes widened, her grip tightening on her skirt.
âYeah, unfortunatelyâŚâ you mumbled, casting a sideways glare at Arthur. âAnd not 'we', Iâm not! IâmâŚjust you know....there and normal.â
Karen blinked, her initial shock giving way to an expression of deep thought. Then, to your surprise, a hint of excitement crept into her face, as though sheâd stumbled upon something sheâd been waiting for her whole life.
âYou know⌠I may not look it, but Iâve got skills,â she said with a newfound confidence, sitting up straighter. âReal skills that could be useful. My old man never liked it, but Iâve learned a thing or two about⌠pickinâ locks, sneakinâ around, that sort of thing.â She looked between the two of you, her smile growing. âMaybe I could⌠you know, join you?â
Arthurâs eyebrow arched, clearly taken aback by her enthusiasm. He turned to you, looking somewhere between amused and exasperated. You stifled a grin, giving him a shrug. âLooks like sheâs got some outlaw spirit after all, better than whatever life you were living, am I right?â you said, reaching out to pat Karen on the back who nodded wiping her tears.
Arthur rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, âThis campâs turning into a damn circus," earning him a smack from you on the arm.
You couldnât help but feel a swell of pride as you watched Arthur stand by, his silhouette dark against the fading light of the camp. Youâd done something good today, something right. You helped someone, and he had backed you, without hesitation.
As you made your way back to the campfire, the weight of the day's events still hung heavy on you. You could still hear the echoes of the manâs voice, the rage in his eyes. But it didnât matter now. The woman was safe, and youâd made a difference. More than that, Arthur had made sure of it.
You glanced back over at him, standing tall, looking unfazed by the confrontation. He had that look, stone-faced, like nothing ever rattled him. Yet you knew the truth. Arthur did what needed to be done, for you, for anyone who mattered to him. Heâd always had a way of making sure things were taken care of, no matter the cost.
"You did good today," you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of the unspoken things that lingered between you.
Arthur gave a half-grunt, not really one for praise. His lips curled up in the slightest of smiles, but there was no boastful pride in it. That wasnât Arthurâs way. "Just doinâ whatâs right."
You huffed a soft laugh. "I know. You always do more than what's right. You do what needs to be done." He always does tenfold what you ask of him.
He didnât argue, didnât try to deny it. Instead, his gaze flickered to you for a brief moment before he looked away. "Youâre the one who had the guts to step in. I just made sure it ended the way it should."
You shook your head, though a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Donât try to downplay it. You know damn well that if it had been anyone else, they would have just ignored it."
He snorted, his eyes scanning the horizon, ever vigilant, as if nothing could touch him. But you knew better. You knew the weight Arthur carried. Youâd seen it, felt it. He wasnât the same as the others. He was a brother, a friend, a bodyguard, and a killer all in one. Your own personal killer that too free of charge. You chuckled inwardly at the thought. This is something you never imagined even thinking of him in childhood. What a turn life has taken for both of you.
As you sat beside him, watching the fire crackle, the camp settled into a quiet rhythm. You felt proud, not just of yourself, but of Arthur too. He may not have cared for the praise, but you knew the truth, Arthur was the kind of man who would go to hell and back for the people he cared about. Especially you. And for you, that meant everything.
#platonic yandere#platonic#platonic headcanons#asks#arthur morgan#yandere arthur morgan#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader#red dead redemption 2#red dead 2#yandere rdr2#rdr2 community#rdr2 arthur#rdr2#red dead redemption#possessive#yandere brother#x sister reader#yandere x fem reader#yandere x female reader#x female reader#x female y/n#x fem!reader#yandere male#male yandere x you#gravity falls#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#yancore
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house of the dragon twitter is the funniest corner of the internet because a take about the dance of dragons complete with the wonderful phrase âthe gender defying dragonsâ with regards to why the dance is bad and in that moment i met god
#personal#what a batshit fucking thing to say online#this is why i don't do stan twitter you can't act like that in public#twitter is the internet's town square and tumblr's like the internet's basement party#things you can do here shan't be done in the light of day#the context doesn't make it any better it's about how even back during when rhaena was alive there were questions#about a ruling queen (even tho rhaena was never considered a ruling queen or claimant to the throne huh??)#and that rhaenyra being the last claimant queen is what solidified westeros as sexist and also them 'gender defying dragons' all died#(and also for some reason they wrote it as 'rhaena(lesbian)' like????)#(what does that have to do with anything being discussed right now????? like yeah she is but that isn't why she wasn't a queen???)#stan twitter man it is just So Wild
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oh. hm.
#i had a realization today and now i feel so absolutely horrible.#when i was out w friends today one of them wasn't having a good time and stepped out for a moment#and in the back i could hear the other 2 whispering to each other basically abt how she's been like this last time they hung out too#the consensus unspoken was that there was sth off. but they kinda just kept moving along. i stepped out for a bit bc i felt like idk.#she's out alone on the streets someone has to make sure she's okay right.#when I'm back one of them goes oh i was just wondering where you were. as if everything is normal.#after a bit of wandering around in the store the other goes oh where is xxx? as if we weren't all there when she said she's gonna step out.#as if they didn't discuss her behavior right after.#and it suddenly reminded me of when i found my ex with her head buried in her hands when i was gone for a bit.#and i was like oh what's going on and the other 2 there were just chatting and one of them just is like idk she's sleeping.#She Was Crying. I was so. idk. i was panicking i was so worried. And I was so mad too bc how could they not notice a friend being unwell??#and i hated myself for it bc it was my fault for leaving her there and i had her id and it was really my fault and i wouldn't have known#i wouldn't have known that. idk. i thought she was left with people who were her friends who should then pay attention to her wellbeing#idk i. i would have trusted my friends to take care of or at least be aware of how i feel.#but we left for a bit and nobody even noticed. what happened. someone even texted asking where did we go.#and idk it's just the same thing i just realized and connected the dots. they will pay lip service. they will tell u they care abt u.#and they will echo it among themselves oh i worry abt xxx is xxx okay oh yeah xxx has been acting like this as if it actually does anything.#and nobody will actually make sure later on. that she is actually. doing fine. that they can do what's good for her atm.#and God. I'm just realizing that. idk. i. i wish i could've been a better support for my ex if she really had needed it at the time. idk.#i was just listening to what other ppl were telling me. but i. i didn't think it through. if these are the ppl she has for support.#if they didn't care to make me feel cared for. if they didn't care to check if she was okay back then. idk i. God.#oh God. what if i fucked up majorly. god. oh god. idk i just thought they treated me like that bc thry we're mad at me#but what if it's. not a me issue. and i shouldn't have trusted that other ppl would take care of her. bc they aren't. trustworthy in that.#ugh but at the same time. she asked for space from me. what else was i supposed to assume than that she didn't want me around?#at the very very least at least I'm sure her family loves her a lot and will care for her and make sure she's okay. god. i hope so.#idk!! i care but in my position i don't think me caring or wanting to help does anything. she doesn't want my support. she doesn't want me.#idk it's something wrong w me probably i genuinely don't know. she's the one telling me she's worried I'm pushing ppl away so.#it's not behavior she condones ig so it makes no sense if she does it herself if she believed i was good for/to her but still pushed me away#so in conclusion There's gotta be something that i fucked up There's gotta be sth wrong w me but i. god. i.#i have so much to nitpick with myself i genuinely don't even know if I'm a good measure or judge of what i did wrong or right.
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and what if i tell you the thirteen minute flight was by an estate company because she long sold that jet, i don't think y'all are here for reason. accept it taylor swift is the poster child for your hate
the thing is you people are so hateful towards her that you don't care about the actual issue but bringing her down.
awh, you know me so well............... im free tomorrow night if you are?
#taylor swift#look. im fine with discussing the nuance in these situations. i have consistently and you'd know that if you took a quick scroll#i like taylor swift as a person as a musician and as a businesswoman overall but lately it has not been minor issues#or things that can be swept away#the fact is that she holds an immense amount of power right now and she is squandering all the good she can do with it#i believe she should cut down her carbon emissions just as i believe anyone on that top 10 list should.#like where is steven spielberg even flying to that much??? there is absolutely no excuse.#and we can argue that it's for the tour but taylor swift was the biggest celebrity carbon emitter of 2022 -- theres a Yard article on it#i can share the link if you'd like but its a quick google search. she was not on tour during that time.#and i believe that she is just as awful for being a billionaire because there is no ethical way to hoard that much money as rihanna and#jay z and paul mccartney are#the reason i talk more about taylor swift is 1) i genuinely just know more about her and am a fan so i have a right to criticize#and 2) she arguably has more influence than all of those people combined right now. over wealth she has power and the public eye on her#does it suck? yeah. but clearly not enough because she's still doing what she does at the same level#i dont hate her. i just dont like her very much. at least not right now.#and this is JUST economic and environmental issues to say NOTHING about political and social issues. i dont need her to acknowledge#everything and anything. but maybe three headlines in the new york times. she can pick the timeline#i probably shouldve made this its own post but tbh. i dont care that much especially not if yall are reading it in bad faith#asks#the tree speaks#ily anon
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baby fever
in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work
fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......
The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but youâre still standing by the pot, watching Andersonâs daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. Sheâs not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitableâevery time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. Itâs not like sheâs doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you canât take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest.Â
From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails.Â
âThat is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,â you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing.Â
He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee.Â
âThatâs Rosie. Have you said hi yet?âÂ
âIâm afraid if I talk to her Iâll try to keep her.âÂ
âShe is pretty adorable.âÂ
You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually.Â
âAdorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. Youâre not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I canât explain to you how much adorable doesnât cut it. Iâm not kidding about the child abduction thing.âÂ
HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug.Â
âLetâs maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.âÂ
âIâm not joking,â you hiss. âI feel like Iâm going insane. I justââÂ
At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.Â
âYou just what?â Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldnât have given a second thought to.Â
âIs something wrong with my shirt?âÂ
His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise.Â
âNo. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.â As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip.Â
âCan we have one?âÂ
Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencerâs chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess heâs made.Â
âYou--you mean like a baby?âÂ
âYeah, like a baby,â you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes.Â
âI thought we were waiting on that.âÂ
âWaiting for what? A better time? Thereâs never going to be a good time with this job. And itâs not like weâd have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.âÂ
âFirst of all,â Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, âI donât love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We donât have that. Weâre both here all the time.âÂ
âI donât care,â you groan, trashing the paper towels once youâve done the best you can with his clothing. âWeâd figure it out somehow!âÂ
âMhm. It sounds like youâve really devoted some careful consideration to this.âÂ
You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve.Â
âOh, come on. You havenât thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet andââÂ
âShe?â he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes.Â
âYes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. YouââÂ
The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mindâs eye so clearly, itâs like theyâre already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasyânow itâs become a bit more intense.Â
He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter.Â
âWhat? Whatâs wrong?âÂ
There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect.Â
Tears sting your eyes, but you donât let them fall. Â
âNothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didnât realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.âÂ
The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.Â
âI want it too. And whenever you decide youâre ready Iâll drop everything for you.âÂ
His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within youâforming something so solid and perfect you donât have to wonder if itâs real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute. Â
Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes.Â
âYouâre ready?â Â
âIâve been ready for quite some time,â he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. âCome here.âÂ
He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so youâre toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you. Â
âI love you,â he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle.Â
âI love you too. Also you smell really good.âÂ
He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment.Â
âAnd that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.âÂ
âWhat do you mean?â you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically.Â
âI mean letâs give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when youâre not ovulating.âÂ
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you
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there's a part of canto vi I've been thinking about since it came out, and it doesn't actually have anything to do with Heathcliff.
this
She is bitter as fuck and as time goes on she's getting worse at keeping it down. Sinclair's the one who started it, by talking about how sad it is that they'd never get to see color, and Rodya starts to get a little irritated over it (yeah, sure, pity the Backstreets folk and their poor miserable little lives, privileged nest boy), but she's obviously trying not to straight up call Sinclair a privileged nest boy because she doesn't want to. But then Yi Sang and Ishmael join in on talking about how sad this place is with no color and she just can't keep her opinion down.
But that makes the atmosphere tense, and she hates a tense atmosphere, so she changes the subject and her tone, not giving a damn about how obvious it is. also, haha, ice and cold references.
And actually, this doesn't really have much evidence to support it, but I wonder if she holds a higher level of resentment for Sinclair in particular.
Canto II had some discussion about how Rodya wishes she was special (and while I think what Sonya said about her killing the tax collector just to feel special is absolute bullshit, I do also think there is some truth to her wanting to feel special), and introduced us to the concept of The Sign in a way that was vague and more like foreshadowing than actually introducing it. Then Canto III was all about The Sign, and how special Sinclair is, and since then we've had people talking about signs and stars and a new birth of the world and it's all stuff Rodya doesn't get to be part of.
I don't think she wants to hold resentment for Sinclair, and she especially never wants him to know, but going back after all this time and rereading this one interaction with him in Canto II felt pretty jarring.
the more important part of this is the way it feels like she's making a joke at Heathcliff's expense, for being poor, like even though she's also from the Backstreets she feels she's "above" it.
She absolutely does not feel this way.
On my way to find the first passage, I reread some other interesting stuff:
Once again, there's the harsh juxtaposition between casual, fun-loving Rodya, and tired, poor man's advocate Rodya. Almost everyone on the team speaks through the lens of a Nest dweller (I have to wonder if learning that Heathcliff was apparently raised in a mansion made her even more bitter), and the way she's so short with her mention of the Sweepers makes me think she's thinking about how painfully obvious it would have been to any other Backstreets dweller. And then, right after, dropping back into her casual voice, and Sinclair revealing that Rodya used the fucked up Backstreets creature to tease him...
Other obvious moments of Rodya being bitter as hell about rich people include this part of S.E.A.
and this part of her observation logs on Spiral of Contempt (actually, nearly everything in that log that isn't about the physical abnormality has to do with how much she hates how rich people look down upon the poor)
Hong Lu's canto comes after Don's, and then after his is RyĹshĹŤ's, who, based on her source material, probably served one of the most awful, contemptuous rich people the sinners have access to, and I really hope at some point here Rodya gets to snap in a big way
...hey so I wrote this entire post at 1 in the morning and then saved it to drafts because I didn't want to post something at 1 in the morning. the Timekilling Time trailer came out about two hours later, featuring both Rodya... and the long-awaited return of the Yurodiviye. so now it's past 3 in the morning for me but I'm posting it now anyway because ohohoho seeing the Yurodiviye again has given me SO much energy
I have a feeling all this is going to be very relevant extremely soon
#limbus company#project moon#rodion#rodion lcb#lcb rodion#she's not even in my top 3 favorite sinners but she's so interesting to me#similar to lexaeus kingdomhearts except unlike him I know project moon are actually cooking something with rodya#rest in peace background character king#me post
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I don't know why, but I'm enjoying the thought of Coco and Jaune being bros.
99% Lesbian
Blake: Coco!
Yang: Hey, Coco!
Coco: Yes?
Blake: We need your help
Coco: My help? Well, first off: Stop wearing all black. Add more colour to you apparel; I recommend purples, golds, and perhaps some deep blues. I think those colours would really make you 'pop!' Otherwise you look like a poorly dressed goth girl hipster. And no, you do not look like a goth girl the way you are dressed, and most certainly a sexy goth girl.
Blake: That's not 1hat...
Yang: No. No, take notes you could use a make over.
Blake: Hey!
Yang: But, no this isn't fashion related!
Coco: It isn't? Then what the hell do you two want help with me, you utter fashion slobs!
Blake: Hey!
Yang: I know it's true that, Blake dresses like a slob!
Blake: Hey?!
Yang: But, does that include me too?
Coco: Only two people in this entire school have any sense of woman's fashion, and neither of them are you.
Yang: Who?!
Blake: Yeah, who?!
Coco: Jaune Arc.
Blake: Jaune?
Yang: Him, really?
Coco: He has seven sisters, he knows plenty about woman's fashion.
Blake: So you say...
Yang: Who's the other person?
Coco: Glynda Goodwitch.
BY: ...
Blake: I'm not going to argue against that.
Yang: She's drop dead gorgeous, what else do we need to say?
Coco: So, what do you need help with?
Yang: We need to help settle a bet.
Coco: A bet?
Yang: Yeah, Ruby said you weren't gay, and that you were in fact, bisexual. We called bullshit, she said it was true, so we made a bet on whether or, not you are actually gay.
Blake: So, are you bisexual?
Coco: No I'm not bisexual.
Blake: Ha!
Yang: I knew it!
Coco: But, I'm not... 100% a lesbian.
Blake: Eh?
Yang: Beg pardon?
Coco: I'm 99% lesbian, but I am 1%... straight...
Blake: You're 1% straight...?
Yang: So... you are bisexual?
Coco: No... I love woman 99% of the time. But, 1% of the time... I'm straight... exclusively for, Jaune...
BY: For, Jaune?!
Coco: For, Jaune.
Yang: How are you attracted to, Jaune? He's... he's...
Blake: He's, Jaune!
Yang: I was going to say a guy, but that's true.
Coco: Gods, does everyone have to pick on my, 'If I had to pick a dude?' He's a great guy, a bit of a goofball sure, and a dunce. But, he is a really nice guy once you get to know him.
Blake: And, because you know, Jaune so well he becomes the 1%?
Coco: Well, there's also the fact that he is the only person I can discuss fashion with; he has great taste, and has even convinced me to wear a helmet as part of my fashion assemble. I just started to enjoy being around with him. So the intrusive thought of us... 'mingling' just popped up. So, I'm 99% a lesbian, and 1% straight for, Jaune.
Blake: Oh, that makes sense. Somehow...?
Yang: So... did we win the bet?
Blake: We didn't bet anything, so we could call it a draw if we wanted to. Right?
Coco: I'd call it a dra...
Jaune: Coco!
Coco: Hey, Bunny Boy, what's up?
Blake: Bunny boy?
Jaune: I found another helmet you could wear! Only this time if completely covers your head, which of course would make it that it doesn't go with your current outfits design. But, that does mean you have to choreograph an entire wardrobe to fit the helmet. Of which, honestly sounds fun to do on it's on.
Coco: Oh-ho-ho~! Really now? Okay, show me this helmet you're so confident about?
Jaune: Tada~!
Coco: ...
Coco: Holy shit...
Jaune: You like it?
Coco: This is a old helmet, so I would have a more detailed lion head, and mane. The colours would definitely involve more gold, maroon, and crimsons.
Jaune: Red, and caramel browns, with complementary cream whites?
Coco: Oh that sounds perfect! Colours aside, what would this outfit entail?
Jaune: Boot's that are at least knee height...
Coco: High heels?
Jaune: Oh, but of course. Next should... Hmmm... Oh no...
Coco: What is it?
Jaune: Nora pulled a, Nora again. I'm sorry I gotta go. Shall we continued this discussion later?
Coco: No problem, Love. Have fun~!
Jaune: See you later, Mocha!
Coco: Hmmm... Should the face mask be a copy of my face, or should it be a generic face?
BY: ...
Coco: ...
Coco: What?
Yang: 'No problem, Love?'
Blake: You sure it's just 1%?
Coco: ...
Coco: Maybe... 10%...?
Yang: Coco's bisexual, but only for, Jaune.
Blake: Agreed.
Coco: ...
Coco: That's fair...
#rwby#jaune arc#yang xiao long#blake belladonna#glynda goodwitch#ruby rose#coco adel#coco x jaune#jaune x coco#rwby french roast
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This post is uh, extremely normal I swear
So hello yes I am absolutely On My Bullshit regarding my new favourite game.Â
Thatâs right, itâs the cannibal incest game, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley. And Iâm here to shove five thousand words of pretentious analysis down your throat because, and I do not exaggerate, I think it is one of, if not the best written game I have ever played. And I have played a lot of games, including Baldurâs Gate 3, Final Fantasy XIV and Undertale, to name a few narrative luminaries to come to mind.
That wordcount is not an exaggeration. My brainworms are extremely powerful and now you can share them with me as I walk you through my insane skyscraper of inference-driven analysis.
Or you can click away. I really wouldnât blame you, itâs quite a lot.
Content Warnings: âŚYes?
(To drop the bit for a moment, The Coffin of Andy and Leyley covers extremely disturbing material and challenges you to examine aspects of living in this world that many have taken for granted all their life, it is not a comfortable game, this will cover similar topics and will often echo the gameâs unremitting scepticism on basic principles of society and humanity and you should look after yourself first. My Content Warning is framed as a joke, but itâs also quite real in that the game is designed to make you uncomfortable and thereâs no shame in that not being for you.)
This was originally posted on and formatted for Sufficient Velocity, and you can probably more easily read and discuss it with me here.
With that said, letâs dig in. I have had to split this into multiple posts because tumblr will only allow so many images. There will be spoilers for all endings.
Sheâs excited, are you?
Itâs All About Ashley
It really is, isnât it? I mean, for approximately eighty percent of the total game as currently released and the entirety of Episode 1, youâre in control of Ashley, just as sheâs in control of her and Andrewâs relationship for 80% of the game, up until the various ending sequences where it begins to slip. The only other characters who really matter at all in and of themselves are Andrew and her mother â and the former is under her thumb, and she eats the latter. Itâs all about Ashley. Even her obsession with Andrew is, ultimately, about Ashley.
But who is Ashley? What is Ashley? Why is Ashley, even? Letâs take a look.
Ashley as presented to us in Episode 1 is very straightforward, so letâs list off the traits weâre given â she is malicious, she is fearless, she lacks empathy, she doesnât have anything resembling a conscience, she demands Andrew belong to her and her alone, she has him at her beck and call.
In Episode 2, weâre ostensibly shown how she has him at her beck and callâ she leverages the threat of reporting Ninaâs death over him and had him swear to be with her forever. Weâre shown that even as a child she was âjust, like thatâ â but as a child, she hadnât learnt to live with it yet, to laugh at the farce of it all.
Yeah, exactly like that!
And she does this throughout Episode 1 â The Coffin of Andy and Leyley is a remarkably silly game much of the time, finding moments of absurdity and levity against a backdrop blacker than pitch â and most of the time, your internal narration is coming from Ashley and the jokes will not-infrequently come at her own expense.
She will later get negged by her human sacrifice for her poor ritual circle drawing
Her reaction to being told that her soul is as dark and viscous as tar is âYou guess you already knew thatâ â itâs confirmation to her, not new information. Ashley knows who she is. But who taught her this? Thereâs layers to this, nothing in this game is as simple and straightforward as it appears at first sight, which is why Iâve been obsessing over it for days.
While itâs common in fiction, the truth of the matter is, most âbad peopleâ really do think theyâre good people. But Ashley has never once thought of herself as a good person â or perhaps better put as a person worthy of love â as we learn across Episodes 1 & 2, with our flashbacks to Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!!
I really wish I had space in this essay to talk about this, but Iâd like to touch on these being traits usually more easily forgiven in young boys than young girls at some point.
If she removes all other options, only then can she expect him to like her.
This is something that is echoed in the modern day â her seeming self-assurance is easily shaken and she reaches out to the world â usually Andrew â to affirm and validate her, soothing her insecurities, using any tool she deems necessary. Even when her life is on the line when Andrew has her by the throat at the climax of Episode 1, the only âcompelling reasonâ she can give Andrew to not kill her is her ability to soothe his nightmares. When he tells her there are sleeping pills for thatâŚ
Most people would have a bit more to argue for their existence.
While she, unlike Andrew, acknowledges having had friends before the quarantine⌠you know sheâs got a point that they didnât even bother to answer her calls, that was clearly not something the state was interfering with given Andrewâs calls with his mother and his girlfriend, and given her general demeanour itâs not hard to imagine that⌠they werenât ever very close. When we see her and Nina talk in the infamous âbox sceneâ, itâs clear that Nina doesnât like her very much, despite Andrewâs assessment of Nina as being one of Ashleyâs friends.
We see further support for her general lack of companionship in her dream sequence in the Burial route â Leyley and Leyley Alone. No matter what you do, you canât place the pink plushy at the family table, the flowers wonât bloom if you give the Julia and Nina plushies her own as a companion instead of Andrewâs â and if youâre bold enough to go for the âincest routeâ, in the âLoveâ room you see that no one ever looks happy to be with her in the childlike depictions of her history, nor is she happy in turn, save for when sheâs with Andrew. In a bit of heavy-handed metaphor, the player then overwrites all of these tense, upset, hard moments with Andrew, having him fill in for everyone else in life â and happy with her.
Once Upon A Lousy LifeâŚ
THE END
And thatâs why she needs him to affirm her, because no one else ever has and no one else ever will. Itâs even included in their comic beats â when the siblings are getting along well, theyâll often play a game where Andrew dramatically overpraises Ashley while she demands more; itâs a comedic bit but I mean â it really does matter to her!
For the record, she opened a door. She gets a little heart in a speech bubble after this exchange.
We have a great example of this dynamic, that of insecurity and affirmation, in Episode 1, after Andrew has killed for her, butchered for her, his girlfriend broke up with her, heâs seemingly thrown his entire life away for her⌠sheâs still insecure over her relationship with him, sheâs uncertain of her control and she needs him to reaffirm it for her.
This is her victory, surely?
Andrew affirms her once, with his usual dead-eyed look.
But she's still not so sure.
He actively reaches out to affirm her again with cheer.
Look how happy she is!
While itâs most obvious and clear cut here, itâs hardly the only case. Letâs look back to the aftermath of Andy and Leyley and the VERY VERY QUIET!!! (Iâm not using the other name). Leyley is, after similarly extreme acts â he murdered a girl and hid her body for her â convinced Andy doesnât like her and she needs this leverage to keep him around, to meet her basic needs for survival. Because thatâs what this is â she receives no care of affection elsewhere, so she forces it out of the only source she sees available through the means she sees as necessary.
I really hope we see some of their earlier childhood in Episode 3
What exactly made her like this? Was it just neglect, or something more specificâŚ
She needs this to be the case because otherwise she doesnât believe heâd stay.
This pattern repeats throughout â Ashleyâs insecurities are hit on and she reaches out to Andy to affirm that she is not alone, and she will use any and every tool to exploit her ostensible control over him and force him to be what she needs him to be â and as long as she has that, as long as she is everything to him and itâs not possible for him to leave, sheâs happy. As long as she thinks he loves her in her very particular, very peculiar view of love, sheâs content, come what may. As long as Andy and Leyley are together, they can take on the world.
Letâs talk about that view of love, because thereâs always more layers to unpack here Iâm only scratching the surface with this essay â Ashley consistently refers to anyone else Andrew may have befriended or spent time with as a whore, a slut, a bitch â highly gendered insults that bring to mind the idea that heâs cheating in some way. But itâs not even about sex â when Andrew mentions that their parents had friends, she accuses them of cheating on each other in the same way!
Thereâs a lot to unpack about Ashleyâs view of femininity and the role the patriarchy plays in their relationship.
Any kind of emotional engagement, any kind of commitment, any kind of life outside of your significant other is, to Ashley, cheating. Because thatâs what she needs from Andrew, a seeming complete and total commitment, secure in her place as the only thing in his life, because she cannot understand anyone picking her if they have a choice.
This insecurity she has in her relationship is what drives her to empower the trinket â he canât leave her as long as she can protect him with prophetic dreams, after all. She needs every kind of leverage she can get because until she succeeds in being everything to him, in devouring him so completely she has him in her thrall mind, body and soul she canât be sure of herself â hell, her dream sequence in Burial has you placing Andrewâs signature green plushy, âthe best thing in the worldâ in a cage far away from anything else.
Ultimately, it really is all about Ashley â even her seeming obsession with Andrew ultimately comes back to her own insecurities. If she is everything to âthe best thing in the worldâ, some of that âbestâ must surely reflect on her!Â
But thatâs enough about the more normal, straightforward and understandable sibling.Â
That was not a joke.
Andrewâs Rank 100 Deception
The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he did not exist.
Let me explain.
You might have noticed that in the previous section I often use language such as âostensiblyâ or âseeminglyâ to describe Andy and Leyleyâs relationship, and thereâs a good reason for that. From the beginning of the game through to its end, Andrew is lying to you, the player, without ever falsely representing or misinforming you about events that occurred.
The common, or obvious âinitial takeâ on Andrew as presented in Episode 1 is fairly straightforward. The game primes you to think this way, it frames things and strings reveals just right so as to make it very easy to overlook the incongruities it introduces in Episode 2. Heâs a victim. Plain and simple, Ashley is his abuser and he is her victim and would be fine, a normal albeit kinda depressed guy without her.
It really is not a difficult conclusion to draw
You can go all the way through the game, have him try to accept his motherâs olive branch and enter the Decay route as a method for him to finally actualise his desire to get out from Ashleyâs thumb and it makes sense, itâs a reasonable way for the story to go, given his character.
You see him this way because the game primes you in Episode 1 to view their relationship like Andrew does â heâs lying. Heâs lying to himself, heâs lying to Ashley and heâs so good at it â Deception Rank 100 â he even lies to you. Without misrepresenting a single event or otherwise misleading you directly, the game gets you to buy into his preferred self-perception. Nina? Ashley. Julia? Ashley. The murders they commit in the course of the game? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, itâs not his fault heâs not to blame heâs just a doormat at the beck and call of his demonic sister.
But he wants to be there. From the very outset, the very first puzzle, thatâs made clear. Does anyone else remember this exchange, from right at the beginning of the game?
Ashley wants to investigate the music!
Andrew disapprovesâŚ
âŚOr does he?!Â
Like. Listen. Okay. You do not frown when saying ���Nopeâ and then smile when saying that youâll instead tag along if they do it if your heart is at all in the no. Thatâs not an objection, thatâs using Ashley as his excuse. Especially if you immediately throw her the balcony key that she could not possibly have gotten from you by force (more on Andrewâs ability to use force later).
This is the very first time you control both characters together with Andrew following Ashley instead of off on his own, the first adventure, the first puzzle!Â
But put a pin in that for now, letâs talk about his initial framing in Episode 2 first. Episode 1 has set us up to, generally speaking, believe the superficial framing of the siblings as portrayed in its promotional art:
The question that we then ask, right at the heart of it is⌠why is he a doormat? We explore this in his dream sequence in Episode 2, which does make it clear that the boyâs not okay butâ itâs real easy, given the priming from Episode 1 to make you think that heâs the one with the originally functional moral compass, to think that that him being fucked up is damage done to him by Ninaâs death and being bound to Ashley for his entire life. She corrupted him.
But, well, is that the case?
You're primed to ignore this as manipulation (which it is) but the best manipulation has some truth to it.
Precisely two things spur Andrew to action in the entire game, consistently â they are the fear of consequences and Ashley. And the first incident of that fear, the very first time weâre shown his seeming moral compass as a kid â the first time itâs really hammered home that itâs a fear of consequences rather than any true moral qualms is after Ninaâs death. And why does he fear consequences here?
âŚâŚ
The ânaturalâ read that many take away from this sequence, particularly those who have only played Decay, is that Ashley browbeat him into doing this against his will, using emotional blackmail to overwhelm his objections, and then used the event itself to bind him to her forever as her personal doormat.
In a strict sense, this is true. But this doesnât match up with the details, something the game uses shock to encourage you to overlook. That outburst is before any kind of threat has been made, and absolutely nothing either of them say anything about it being morally bad until Ashley weaponises âyouâre a bad personâ against Andrew â morality didnât seem to enter his mind or the equation at all until Ashley brought it up. More than that, his greatest fear and driving motivation even prior to that is, as shown above, being taken away from Ashley.
She, of course, recognises this and uses it against him. But she never needed to, it didnât change anything about Andrewâs attachment to her, it was there to address her own insecurities.
Just like to touch on how a lot of his affirmations are preceded by him confirming her insecurities.
I adore this phrasing
Thereâs a second prong to this as well, to the question of âwho really calls the shots hereâ because â Andrew can, at any stage, apply an âultimate vetoâ of physical violence. The game is very clear to the player that that is on the table â even when they were children, when Andy swears their blood oath, he briefly considers killing her â and take note of how he ultimately got a âwinningâ condition out of her by not specifying there wouldnât be others and she is forced to accept that, there. Even outside of their most serious confrontations, Ashley is portrayed as having to convince, manipulate or otherwise coerce Andrew into going along with her schemes â she really canât make him do anything, she doesnât have the supremacy in violence and, to a lesser extent, capability that would allow her to.Â
Andrew, you are like ten years old.
The truth of the matter is, Ashley can only make Andrew do anything because he lets her. I donât mean in the sense that Iâm saying abuse victims let their abusers emotionally abuse them, I mean in the sense that he is clearly considering his options on the table and choosing to discard those that could stop her, or bring an end to any of this. He needs her.
But itâs true that he hates her, too. He has to hate her, because if he doesnât hate her, if he isnât forced to have done this, that means⌠heâs responsible. And nothing, at the start of the story, is as important to Andrew as avoiding the consequences of his own actions, not even Ashley. By the midpoint, he loves her, he hates her, he canât live without her, he wants to kill her â by the end⌠well, that depends if youâre on Decay or Burial, but more on that in a bit.
A great scene to study for this dynamic is the climax of Episode 1, when Andrew grabs Ashley by the throat and considers strangling her to death. Sheâs pushed him too far with hurtful words and assault, and heâs seemingly had enough.
Itâs still framed as a question of risk, of consequences happening to him.Â
Like, this is not the usual behaviour of someone whoâs been pushed past their breaking point.
He tells Ashley that he wants to kill her, because sheâs just going to throw another fit and thatâs a risk to him. She is⌠not framed as being able to fight back (she does have a gun here, and more on that in a later essay, maybe). Heâs so calculated in how he approaches his use of violence here, which isnât at all what youâd expect of someone about to commit a crime of passion⌠but itâs very easy to overlook because of the abuser/victim narrative that the player fits his behaviour into the narrative that the game primes them to accept, brushing incongruities under the carpet.
At the start of Episode 2, we get to control Andrew for the first time, and the first obvious holes in his cover start to show. Some of this is optional â you only learn that heâs been faking having nightmares in order to share a bed with Ashley if you choose to go back into the motel room and check the bed, for example â but not all of it.
----(See reblogs for the second half)
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Each Other
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
You always know what Natasha needs
Note: itâs just some soft stuff. Enjoy!
Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist
âHey baby,â you say as you lean on the doorframe of Natashaâs home office.
She spins around in her chair and smiles up at you. You never tire of seeing that beautiful grin.
âAre you saying hi to me or the actual baby?â She jokes.
âBoth of you.â
You walk further into the room and make grabby hands for your six month old daughter. Nat hands her to you, knowing sheâs hungry and wants to see her other mom.
You kiss her forehead and hold her against your shoulder. She presses her head against your neck and whines softly.
âI know, sweetheart,â you coo, trying to soothe her a bit. âAre you coming, Mama?â
âSoon,â Nat replies. âI need to finish up a few things.â
âDonât take too long please.â
âWouldnât dream of it.â
You share another smile with your wife and leave to go feed your baby girl. The process takes a while, but the bonding is very much worth it. She is ready to burp by the time Natasha makes it to her nursery.
âLet me do it,â she says. âYouâre still work clothes and we both know this girl will spit up all over you.â
âThank you, honey,â you reply. She usually makes fun of the pet names but today she doesnât say anything.
She helps the little girl burp and does in fact get covered in spit up in the process of doing so.
âYou okay?â You ask her.
âOh yeah, I love being covered in this,â Nat says dryly, but not seriously.
You take Ali back and feed her more. Nat sits on the arm of the rocking chair youâre sitting in.
âNo, I mean are you okay?â You ask, placing a hand on her thigh. âYou havenât teased me about the pet names since Iâve been home today.â
âI know,â she says. âI think Iâm too exhausted. Iâm sorry.â
Her voice sounds distant and worse for wear. You hate seeing her like this.
âHey, come on baby tell me whatâs going on,â you say. âItâs just me.â
âItâs nothing.â
âNatasha,â you warn. She knows she needs to just be honest. You already can tell something is off with her.
âThe team needs me to go on a mission,â Nat admits.
âOh.â
âAnd I know we discussed me having a whole year of desk work once Ali was born,â Nat continues. âBut this one is just out of my control. Iâve been working overtime to try and figure a way to get the intel I need without going.â
âBut itâs not working,â you finish for her.
âNo itâs not,â she agrees. âIâm so frustrated.â
âNatasha, you canât always fix everything.â
âBut I want to,â she says unreasonably.
âI know, baby. Itâs going to be okay.â
You lean your head against her arm. Itâs the best you can do for now as you juggle an eating baby in your arms.
Ali finishes and Nat takes her back into her arms. You go to the living room to sit together. Nat puts Ali in her play chair.
You two sit together and watch her giggle and play.
âCall Steve and the team,â you say after a few minutes. âTell them youâll go on the mission.â
âBut-â
âNo buts,â you interrupt her. âI can handle baby girl. And you wonât rest until youâve figured this out.â
âYou know I love you, right?â Nat asks.
âAnd you know I love you, right?â You counter.
âItâs one of the few things Iâm sure of these days,â Nat says.
âCome here, Natasha,â you say, holding out your arms for her to fully snuggle into.
You kiss her lips softly before she snuggles into your chest. You hold her tight for as long as she wants.
Everything will be okay as long as you have each other.
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#soft natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff comfort#soft mama nat
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T'es ben chix - Luke Hughes
Summary: AmĂŠlie decides Luke Hughes is the cutest boy she's ever seen, but she doesn't know how to tell him.
wc: 7k
content: fluff, a little bit of angst, kissing, panic attacks, anxiety, quick make out session, a couple dirty jokes, long distance relationship (let me know if missed anything!)
notes: don't let the title fool you, this fic is still in english!! i realized the other day while doing schoolwork that i don't have a fic that discusses being french-canadian. so... here we are! this fic was super fun for me to write and i incorporated experiences and challenges i have faced over the last few years. a lot of the mistakes that amĂŠlie makes are mistakes that i have made or that other french speakers make when speaking english bc sometimes we try to directly translate things and it just does not work lol i reallly hope you guys enjoy!!! and to any other francophones out there: let's be friends!!
just finished writing and it's about 5k words more than i was planning
AmĂŠlie honestly wasn't the biggest fan of going out back home, so going out in a place where she could barely speak the language was even worse. But a few of the girls she'd befriended had convinced her it was a good way to get to know more people and to let loose. She sat with the three other girls at a small table, her fingers drumming against the glass of her cocktail.
"Yeah, what did you think of that guy that presented today, Am?"
"Hm? He did... good."
"No, silly. Did you think he was cute?"
"Oh, um, he's... how do you say... not my type?"
"Not your type? Then what is your type, Am?"
"Probably that guy she's been making googly eyes at all night," one of the others teased.
"Who? The tall, curly haired guy in the corner?"
AmĂŠlie blushed, sipping at the alcohol for courage.
"Ooo, she's totally into him!"
"You should go talk to him, Am!"
"No... I tell you... no American boys," she waved them off.
"Well, that's too bad. Cause it looks like he's comin' over here. We'll be at the bar if you need us."
"Guys..."
But it was too late, the other girls were already up and headed towards the bar.
"Calisse," she mumbled, trying to ignore the tall figure approaching her table.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up at him, her lips pursed. He had the same curly hair and boyish smile that her friends had been teasing her about. She really hadn't planned on talking to anyone tonight, let alone any boys. The girls knew her rule: no falling for any boys while she was in America.
"Uh... sure," she replied, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her.
He smiled, sitting down casually, rubbing his palms on his pants. "I'm Luke. I, uh, I thought I'd come introduce myslef since we, uh, made eye contact so many times."
AmĂŠlie bit her lip, nodding as he spoke. She barely knew enough English to follow what her friends were saying, and now she had to talk to some random guy at this bar she didn't even want to be at. "I, uh, I am AmĂŠlie."
"AmĂŠlie? That's a really pretty name. Did I, uh, did I say it right? AmĂŠlie?"
Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flickering down to her drink. "Yeah... that is right. Thank you." Her fingers tightened around the glass, trying to think of something to say next, but everything just came in French.
Luke could sense her hesitation, suddenly becoming way more nervous about coming over. Maybe it had been stupid. Maybe he was making her feel uncomfortable. "I just thought... I don't know. You seemed nice. Do you, uh, want to talk, or...?"
She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. He was trying and he seemed nice, like he really wanted to talk to her. "I... my English, it is not very good," her accent thickening as she spoke. "It is... hard for me."
Luke nodded, leaning forward slightly. He had teammates that didn't speak English as their first language, so he kind of knew what to expect. "That's fine. I'm sure it's better than my French. That is your first language, right? French? Sorry, I just assumed cause your name-"
"Yes, French," she cut him off, giggling at his rambling.
"I can barely say anything in French, so you've already got me beat."
His attempt to make her feel better worked... a little. "It is easier... to write. But speaking... more pressure, I forget the words lots."
"I get that. But we can just... talk slowly."
She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to continue.
"So, what brings you to Jersey? Not a lot of French people here."
"Exchange... at Rutgers. I am from QuĂŠbec. Saguenay. But I come here... and I work on my English."
"That's super cool. It's awesome that you're pushing yourself to get better. I, uh, I went to Umich for a bit, but-"
"Umich?"
"Oh, right. University of Michigan. I lived in Michigan before I lived here."
"You move here because..."
"For hockey. I play hockey."
"Oh... that's cool. I like Les Canadiens. You play in the LNH?"
"The NHL? Yeah, I do. You like hockey?"
"Everyone in QuĂŠbec likes hockey. Very popular."
"But you didn't know who I was," Luke teased.
"Only like Les Canadiens, sorry," she shrugged.
"Well, that's fair, I guess. The Habs are pretty big in QuĂŠbec, huh?"
"Yes! My family... all big fan." She felt comfortable talking about her family, talking about home, the things she liked. Her dad watched every Habs game on TV and sometimes he'd even drive down to MontrĂŠal for a weekend to see them play.
"My family loves hockey too. Everyone plays. My mom, my dad, me, and both my brothers. It's like in our blood... or something."
"They play for... the same team?"
"One of them does. Jack, he plays with me. My other brother, Quinn, he plays in Vancouver," Luke tried to keep it casual, not wanting it to seem like he was bragging.
"Ah! The Canucks!"
"See, you know a bit about other teams," he teased.
"Shhh," she giggled. "Your family... they seem very... what's the word... talented."
"Guess you could say that."
She took another sip of her drink, her mind buzzing with questions to ask, but none of them coming to her in English. She wanted to ask more about his brothers, about how he started playing hockey, but her mouth just couldn't keep up with her brain. She also didn't want to come off as rude or obsessed with him because of his title, so she just nodded.
"You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not judging you," Luke comforted. "So, what do you do when you're learning English or watching the Habs? You got any other hobbies?"
"I like to... read. And bake... when I have time."
"Reading and baking," Luke mused. "What do you bake?"
"Everything," she giggled. "Tarte au sucre is my preferred. My mom... she always bakes with me."
"Tarte au sucre? What's that? Sugar pie?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You'll have to make me that one day. I've never had it."
"Maybe. You will have to see."
"Challenge accepted."
AmĂŠlie went to respond, but her phone buzzing stopped her. It was her friends calling, probably ready to head on to another bar. She didn't want her conversation with Luke to end, but she knew she couldn't stay there all night.
"I have to go. My friends... waiting," she sighed.
Luke's face fell a little but he nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But I, uh, this was fun."
"Me too."
There was silence for a little, neither of them wanting to be the first to say goodbye. "You should give me... your phone number. So you can try my tarte au sucre."
"Sounds like a plan," Luke said, handing his phone over for her. She typed in her name and phone number, adding a '<3' next to AmĂŠlie.
"Text me," she giggled, waving goodbye as she joined the other girls at the bar. Luke watched as the four of them started talking amongst themselves quickly, giggling as AmĂŠlie told them about her conversation with the hockey player.
He finally stood up, making his way back over to the table where his teammates were sat. Curtis raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face.
"Well, how'd it go, Romeo?" He leaned forward, failing to conceal his grin.
Luke rolled his eyes, "Good, actually. Really good."
Nico raised his pint, "Told you. You just had to go for it."
"So... what's next?" Curtis nudged him. "You ask for her number?"
Luke nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, we'll probably meet up again."
"Probably?"
"Okay, fine. Yeah, we'll see each other again. I'm going to try her sugar pie she was talking about."
"Sugar pie? Is that what we're calling it nowadays?" Nico teased, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.
Luke shook his head, letting the teasing slide. His mind was too focused on the girl with a French accent and promises of baking him pie. He had to see her again.
~~
Luke found texting AmĂŠlie way easier than he'd imagined. She wasn't lying when she said her writing was better than her speaking. Her texts barely ever had mistakes, in fact sometimes they were worded better than his.
They texted back and forth constantly, which earned Luke some teasing from his colleagues. In writing, AmĂŠlie was much more confident, returning his flirting with practiced ease. Her personality really shone through in a way it hadn't at the bar. She'd occasionally crack jokes, usually about how he didn't know any French and that she'd have to teach him. Their conversations flowed, talking about their days, sharing stories, discussing the schoolwork that AmĂŠlie had, and sometimes sharing pictures of their meals. Although Jack did most of Luke's cooking, he'd never admit that to the girl.
You have to come and try my tarte au sucre soon! Only if you're brave enough though ;)
Luke grinned at his phone, his fingers furiously typing back a reply.
Oh, I'm brave enough. Just let me know when, and I'll be there.
I will. Maybe next week? I need to make sure it's perfect first.
Deal.
~~
AmĂŠlie paced her apartment, making sure that everything was in order before Luke came over. She was even more nervous than she had been in the bar. She really wanted things to go well. They had decided to label the event as their first date, and although a bit informal, she was still shitting herself.
The pie was sitting on her kitchen island, untouched. She didn't want to eat any of it until Luke was there to eat it with her. She was worried he'd get in trouble because it wasn't part of his meal plan for work, but he had reassured it multiple times that it wasn't a big deal if he had a little pie.
Just as she was about to rearrange her throw pillows for the third time, there was a knock at her door. She froze mid-step, wiping her hands on her jeans as she made her way to the door.
It was just a pie. And it was just Luke. Nothing to be too worried about.
She hesitated for a moment before she pulled the door open, tilting her head back to look up at Luke. He was standing there in a Devils hoodie and some track pants, a baseball cap covering his curls. He looked relaxed, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. AmĂŠlie hated how nonchalant he looked in comparison to her.
"Hey," he greeted. "I brough my appetite, as promised."
"Good. I hope you are ready," she joked, stepping out of the way to let him in. He pulled off his shoes, taking in her cozy apartment. He laughed when his eyes landed on the big QuĂŠbec flag hung behind her couch.
"I'm sure it'll be amazing. I'm looking forward to it, don't worry."
She nodded, though her nerves didn't disappear. She led him into the kitchen where the pie sat waiting. The smell of it filled the small space, warm and sweet.
"Wow, looks good, Am. Guess you weren't kidding about being a good baker."
"It's like you with hockey. My talent," she giggled, blushing as their eyes met.
"I don't know. Your baking skills may be miles ahead of my hockey skills."
"Don't lie. Let's see if it tastes as good as the smell," she grabbed a knife, finally cutting the pie into pieces. She placed a generous slice in front of Luke, taking in how comfortable he looked in the situation. She really admired how easygoing he was compared to her. It was their first date, but his demeanor made it seem like they'd been seeing each other for months. Meanwhile, her heart hadn't stopped racing since she opened the door minutes before.
Luke picked up his fork, flashing her a grin before taking his first bite. His eyes widened and he let out a pleased hum, "Holy shit, this is so good."
"You like it?"
"Are you kidding? This is like the best dessert I've ever had... don't tell my mom I said that. But really, AmĂŠlie, you've ruined all other pies for me. Can I take some home to show Jack?"
"Of course! I'm glad you like it. Is my mom's recipe."
"You should probably teach me how to make this, so I don't have to beg you every time I want some."
"I wouldn't mind," she giggled, taking a bite of her own slice. The taste reminded her of home and she suddenly felt a lot less nervous about messing up her English in front of Luke. They continued to eat their pie as they talked, shifting the conversation to more personal topics, wanting to know everything about each other.
Luke told stories about growing up with his brothers, sharing embarrassing moments from their childhoods and the occasional hockey-related mishap. AmĂŠlie found herself laughing more than she had since she'd arrived in America, her body filling with warmth.
"And that's how Jack ended up chipping his tooth. Our mom was furious, but Quinn and I thought it was hilarious," Luke explained, shaking his head at the memory.
She laughed, her shoulders shaking. "You and your brother... troublemakers," she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. God, she could listen to Luke talk for hours. His accent was the cutest thing she'd ever heard and his smile curved up more on one side than the other, almost like a smirk. He was so perfect.
"Yeah, we were. Still are, I guess. But what about you? You got any fun stories about your family?"
"One time my dad, he take us to MontrĂŠal for a Habs game. And my older brother he had... he liked one girl he saw. But she was anglophone, no French. He goes up to her and he tries to talk English. But it was soooo bad. Even worse than me. He only knew maybe like three word. I think he said like 'Hey, you pretty, drink?' and she looked at him like he was... insane! He... he panicked and ran away. We bullied him for years after. Our dad, he will still talk about it at dinner sometime."
"That's brutal," Luke laughed. "Glad our first conversation didn't go like that."
"I am just better than him."
Luke shook his head, flashing his lopsided smile that made AmĂŠlie swoon. "Clearly. You've got the charm, no doubt about it."
"Maybe a little. But still I get nervous. When you arrive, I think maybe that I would die."
"You hid it well. I didn't even notice. I was the nervous one."
"You? Nervous?" she raised an eyebrow, placing her fork between her lips .
"Yeah, you were... well you are, like the prettiest girl I've ever met," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want to mess it up."
"Is that a joke? You did not... mess up. I like talking with you."
"I like talking with you too, AmĂŠlie"
~~
It was their fourth date and they were back at AmĂŠlie's apartment. Luke was sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he playfully scrolled through one of AmĂŠlie's French-to-English learning apps.
"Come on, give me a word," Luke teased, turning to look at the girl sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.
"Alright. Alright. Um... try... 'papillon.'"
Luke squinted, trying his hardest to translate it. "Papillon," he reapted slowly. "Uh... sounds like pasta, maybe? Wait, no, wait... um, balloon?"
She let a burst of laughter, learning back against the arm of the couch. "Non! It's butterfly!"
He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock anguish. "Butterfly?! That doesn't even sound like butterfly! What?!"
"You are needing more practice," she giggled, comfortly placing a hand on his thigh.
Luke's eyes widened at her touch, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, clearly I need a lot more practice. You might have to become my full-time tutor."
AmĂŠlie smiled, her fingers lingering on his thigh, sending a warmth through both of them. They'd been spending more and more time together, and things were less awkward, but still full of nervousness. The banter between them was easy, but there was an ever-growing tension gnawing at them both.
Luke reached for a throw pillow next to him, lightly tossing it at her. "Give me another one. I swear I'll get it this time."
She swatted the pillow away, but her focus had moved on from French. The space between them had slowly been shrinking and she had just noticed how close they were. She tilted her head, her eyes flickering up to meet Luke's. "I think... maybe you are better at other things than French."
Luke's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat at her new tone. He glanced down at her hand still resting on his thigh, then back at her face, then back to her hand again. "Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Like... this."
Before he could question what she meant, she leaned in, her lips brushing his, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but the second their lips connected, everything they'd been holding back snapped into place.
Luke's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened quickly, no longer hesitant, but instead filled with the feelings they'd been dancing around for weeks. AmĂŠlie sighed against his mouth, her hands sliding up to his chest, gripping his shirt in his fists. Luke groaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips.
Their kisses turned hungrier, more urgent, as the tension in the room built. Luke shifted, gently pushing AmĂŠlie back against the couch as he leaned over her, his body pressing against hers as their kisses grew sloppier. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Luke's hands slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as the kiss deepened.
Neither of them wanted to pull away, not wanting to be the first to end the kiss. Luke realized he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air before kissing her again, harder this time, his lips moving with more urgency than before. AmĂŠlie let out a soft, breathless moan in reponse.
They pulled away again, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Luke brushed a strand of her hair, that had gotten stuck between them, out of her face. His eyes were still half-closed as he whispered, "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."
AmĂŠlie smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She looked up at him, her lips still tingling. "Me too. I... I did not expect it to feel... like that."
"Good or bad?"
"Good," she whispered, her fingers tracing the back of his neck before pulling him in again, her lips finding his once more. There was no hesitation this time, just unfiltered desire as they gave in to the kiss.
~~
"Where you goin'?" Jack asked, pausing his video game as he heard Luke head for the door. He turned around, noticing his brother wearing his Michigan backpack. "And why do you have a backpack?"
"AmĂŠlie's place. I'm spending the night."
"Damn, Lukey boy's finally getting laid."
"Shut up, Jack... there's no confirmation that that's what happening. She just asked if I wanted to sleep over."
Jack smirked, leaning back on the couch with a knowing look. "Uh-huh, sure. You don't pack a bag just to sleep over, bro."
Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the straps of his bag. "It's not like that. We're just hanging out, maybe watching a movie or something."
Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, lover boy. But just in case, be safe."
"It's not like that," Luke groaned, grabbing his keys off the counter, trying to escape Jack's teasing.
"I'm just saying! Good luck, bud!"
Luke mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the elevator to the parking garage. His heart was racing more than usual, not just because of Jack's teasing but because tonight did feel different. Spending a night together was a big step in their relationship, especially since they weren't officially official yet.
They hadn't even discussed labels yet, and although they were very close, there was an unspoken worry of figuring out where things were heading. Luke really, really liked her, but he didn't want to rush anything. If AmĂŠlie wanted to take things slow, then he would take things slow.
He sat in his car, getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.
Just picked out a movie. Hope you like rom-coms ;)
Only if we watch it in French so I can practice
Deal.
When he pulled up to her building, he practically leaped out of the car, taking his backpack with him. He knocked on her door, his heart in his throat.
Just go with the flow. No pressure
AmĂŠlie giggled when she opened the front door, dressed in one of Luke's Devils hoodies and a pair of shorts he couldn't see from under the large sweatshirt.
"Hey. You look cute," he leaned down to kiss her.
"Hey! Missed you."
"It's only been three days," he laughed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist, propping her chin on his chest. "You ready for my horrible French?"
"Ready for anything," she giggled as he ran a hand through her hair.
They stood in the doorway for a few moments more, before she grasped his hand and pulled him into the living room. They settled on the couch, a blanket thrown over their entwined legs.
"Am, I've been thinking..." his thumb brushing lightly against her thigh. "I don't want to overthink it anymore than I already have, but... we've been spending lots of time together. And I really like you."
"I like you too, Luke. A lot."
"Good. Because... I want this to be official. I mean, us. I want us to be official. I don't wanna be just 'hanging out' or 'seeing where things go' anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend." His voice softened at the end, his heart out on a silver platter just for her.
"You really want that?" she gushed.
Luke nodded, "Yeah. I want you. I want... us."
"I want that too," she smiled, shuffling impossibly closer to him, pecking his lips.
Luke pulled her back in for a deeper kiss, relief flooding his body. When they pulled apart, AmĂŠlie rested her forehead against his, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie.
"So, it is official?" she whispered.
"Officially official. You're my girlfriend now."
She kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. "Well... now that we have... figured that out. You have French to practice... boyfriend."
"Let's get started then, girlfriend."
~~
"So... when do I get to meet her?" Jack grinned, knocking Luke's shoulder.
"Oh, um, I can ask her."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "You can ask her?" he teased. "What, you haven't mentioned me?"
Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have, Jack. I just... didn't think you'd be so excited."
"Dude, of course I'm excited! My little brother has a girlfriend now! And you know I've gotta approve, see if she's good for you. Duh."
"She's not a test subject, Jack. I'm not bringing her so you can interrogate her."
Jack snickered, loving how flustered his brother was getting. "Relax, I'll be nice. In fact, bring her out with us and the guys this weekend. Some of the other girlfriends will be there."
"I can ask her. Just... don't be weird about it. She get's nervous."
"Me? Weird about it? Never. I'm charming."
"That's what I'm worried about."
"Come on, it'll be fun. She'll get to meet everyone, and you know the guys will love her. Plus, if she can survive a night out with us, she's a keeper."
"Look, I'll ask. But I know she's been busy with schoolwork. I'll ask her tonight. But seriously, Jack, don't freak her out. Please."
"Scout's honour, man. I'll be on my best behaviour."
"You're not a-- never mind. I'll let you know what she says."
~~
Luke laid next to AmĂŠlie in her bed, his arm draped over her waist. She was scrolling through TikTok, laughing at French words he didn't know yet. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, peeking at the screen where some girl was speaking rapid French while doing her make up.
"Hey, Am."
"Hmm?"
"So... Jack and some of the guys are going out this weekend, and a few of the girlfriends will be there too," he paused, thinking over his next words. "Jack was, uh, wondering when he could meet you. He kind of suggested you come along."
She blinked, "Meet... all of your friends? This weekend?"
"No pressure! If you're too busy with school, I totally get it. I just thought it might be fun. Only if you want to, of course," Luke quickly added.
She bit her lip, thinking it over, and Luke could tell she was weighing her options. "I'm nervous. I would... like to meet Jack. To be... part of your world."
He pulled her body closer to his, pressing more kisses to her shoulder. "You're already part of my world, Am. And trust me, Jack's been bugging me about meeting you since our first date. He's... well, he's Jack. But he means well."
"Okay. I will come. But if Jack, he makes me feel awkward, you owe me a very good dinner."
Luke laughed, "Deal. And don't worry, I'll be there the whole time. Plus, survivng Jack means you can survive anything."
~~
"C'est très cute, non?" AmÊlie asked, showing her outfit off to Luke.
"You look like a millon bucks, baby," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.
"What?"
"It's... it's a saying."
She tilted her head slightly, repeating the words back to herself. "A million... bucks."
Luke thought her accent made it all the more adorable. "It means you look beautiful. Like super, super beautiful."
"English says, they are so strange. First you tell me it rains cats and dogs... now I look like I am money. You explain me all of these sometimes, yes?"
"Of course, baby. But I mean it, you looks amazing."
"Thanks, Lu. We should go?"
"If we have to," Luke pouted, leaning down to give her another kiss.
~~
AmĂŠlie gripped the straps of her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never felt so nervous in her life, not even on their first date. She had so many people to impress tonight and probably less than half the words they had in their vocabularies.
Luke was quick to notice her anxiety. She usually walked with so much confidence, but her posture was slumped and her lip was held between her teeth. "Hey, you okay?"
She nodded, but her choked voice betrayed her. "I... I don't know if I can do this."
"You'll be fine, Am," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Jack's going to love you, I can promise you that. And it's just a few of the guys--nothing big. And hey, some of them aren't even native English speakers themselves."
Her eyes were still full of uncertainty, her fingers busying themselves by picking at the skin around her nails. "But maybe I will say something wrong. Or they ask me things, and I do not understand them? Or they will all laugh at me."
"You've been doing so well with your English, love. And if you're ever feeling stuck, just squeeze my hand and I'll come to your rescue."
The bar was pretty empty for the most part, just a few tables of friends talking and sharing drinks. In the back corner, Jack was sitting with a few of the other guys and their better halves.
"There they are!" Jack cheered as soon as he saw them approaching, standing up to greet his brother as if he hadn't seen him in weeks. His tone was loud and confident, and AmĂŠlie could feel every set of eyes at the table move towards her and Luke.
Luke gave his brother a quick bro-hug before turning to his girlfriend. "Jack, this is AmĂŠlie. Am, this is my brother, Jack."
AmĂŠlie felt like all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, her hand gripping Luke's with a vice-like strength. She opened her mouth to speak, but all her words got stuck. "I, uh, I... hi."
"Nice to meet you, AmĂŠlie," Jack said. "Luke's told me loads about you."
She gave him a tight lipped smile, her mind scrambling to find a response, but nothing came. She felt like the weight of everyone's expectations were holding her down. She wanted to wow everyone with perfect English, but all she could do was stand there, frozen.
"She, uh, she's a little nervous," Luke interjected. "AmĂŠlie's from QuĂŠbec, she's here in Jersey to learn English. But her French is like the most impressive shit ever."
"No worries. We're just happy you're here," Nico spoke up.
AmĂŠlie forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat down beside Luke, her hand still gripping his with immense force. The conversation around the table picked back up, but she remained quiet.
The guys were easygoing, laughing and joking with each other, and the other girlfriends seemed just as relaxed. The more they spoke though, the harder it became for her to follow. She could pick up on bits and pieces of what was going on, but she couldn't seem to form a complete sentence in her head.
"So, how do you like Jersey so far?" one of the other girlfriends, Lexi, asked with a warm smile.
"It... it's very different. But I... I like it," she replied, her eyes not leaving Luke's hand in her lap.
"She thinks back home is wayyyy prettier. Right, babe?" Luke helped to direct her.
"Yes. QuĂŠbec is very beautiful."
"So what brought you here?" Jack asked, desperately wanting to know more about the girl that had stolen his brother's heart. "School?"
She bit her lip, trying her best to think of how to reply in English. "Yes... I.... study at Rutgers. Exchange."
"That's awesome. What're you studying?"
Her mind went completely blank. She'd even rehearsed answering that exact question, but now, with everyone looking at her, the words were gone. Her hand tightened around Luke's again, taking a sip of water to clear her throat.
"She's studying communications and media. But the point of her exchange is to work on her English skills."
"That's sick," Jack nodded along.
The conversation around her continued, a few questions being tossed her way but her responses were usually just a few words, the gaps being filled in by Luke. The group eventually moved on to a story that Nico was telling, and AmĂŠlie used the shift of attention to shrink into herself further. She let Luke rest his hand on her bouncing knee in an attempt to calm her nerves, but his touch felt foreign in the situation.
After what felt like hours, but had most likely only been half an hour, she leaned close to Luke, whispering in his ear. "Je vais aux toilettes." She stood up before he could respond, scurrying off to the bathroom.
Jack shot Luke a curious glance, but he just shrugged, trying to mask his own worry.
AmĂŠlie slipped into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was suffocating, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She hated feeling like an outsider, not being able to connect with Luke's world outside of her.
She wiped under her eyes, praying that her mascara didn't run. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying in the bathroom. She just wanted to be like the other girls at the table--relaxed and confident, going with the flow of the conversation.
With one last deep breath, she made her way back to the table. Luke looked up at her as she approached. He could tell something was off.
"Everything okay?"
She just nodded, falling back into her silence at the table. She laughed when everyone else laughed, smiling politely when someone made a remark towards her. Luke had never seen her so quiet in his life, not even on the first day that they met. By the time everyone had left the bar, her anxiety was so bad she thought she might puke.
Luke opened the car door for her, and she slid in, staring blankly out the window. The silence between them was heavy. Luke could feel it too, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel.
"Am, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night. You barely said a thing."
The tears that she had been fighting so hard to keep at bay finally spilled out. "I... I feel so stupid. I-I couldn't even talk to them. I couldn't even... act normal."
He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. His heart clenched at her words. "You're not stupid, Am. You're doing amazing. You're learning a whole new language, that's huge."
"But I had to have you help on everything. I could... not even answer Jack's questions. They normally think... I'm dumb. Not good for you." She wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for crying.
"AmĂŠlie, baby. No one thinks you're dumb. And you are more than good enough for me--don't you ever doubt that. Jack loved meeting you. Everyone did. I could tell. They don't care if you need some help speaking English. Hell, some of those guys could use the help speaking English."
"I wanted... to be better. To show I can do this. But I feel...lost."
"You don't have to show anyone that you can do anything. Not to me, not to Jack, not to anyone. I love you for--"
"You love me?"
"Of course I do, Am. I... I didn't want to admit it like this. But... I am so in love with you, AmĂŠlie."
"I love you too, Luke. Sorry if I... embarrass you tonight."
"You could never embarrass me, Am. Never ever."
"I-"
"Nope, that's enough out of you. Let's go back to yours and watch that stupid cop show you like."
"Mensonges?"
"If that's what it's called, then yes."
"I love you, Lu."
"I love you too, Am."
~~
"I don't know, Jack. She was so nervous last time..."
"But last time there were other people there too. Just tell her you've got the place to yourself for the night and then I'll walk in a couple hours later and be like 'Oh! Sorry, my plans got cancelled.' And then we can all hangout," Jack suggested.
"I'm not going to lie to her. I'll just ask if she wants to spend the night."
"Come on, Rusty! You know I'm just trying to help her relax around me. You're making it sound like a big deal. It's not! She's your girlfriend, and I want to get to know her. Plus, I'll make it fun! I'm good with people."
"I appreciate the thought, Jack. But I want her to feel comfortable, not tricked. So I'll just ask her if she wants to come over and spend the night. No tricks."
"Fine, fine. Let me know what she says."
"I will. Just... don't be an idiot."
~~
AmĂŠlie followed Luke into his apartment, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. She looked around, noticing how painfully obvious it was that two men lived there.
"I'm just gonna put your bag in my room. You wanna go make yourself comfortable on the couch?"
"Sure."
She sat down, curling her legs under herself, glancing around the living room. She picked up the remote off the coffee table, fiddling with while she waited for Luke.
"You good?"
"Yeah. Just... taking in. It is very... you."
"What, you mean messy?"
She giggled, then tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Maybe... un peu."
"Hey, it's organized chaos, baby. I know where everything is. Well... most of the time."
"I like it. Feels... comfortable. Like you."
"That's all I want, babe. For you to be comfortable."
"Where's Jack?"
"Probably in his room. Why? Wanna talk with him?"
AmĂŠlie quickly shook her head, her eyes widening. "No, no... just wonder. I don't want to... bother him."
"You're not bothering him. He's probably playing video games or doing some stupid shit. He'll come out here eventually."
The last time she'd been around Jack, she hadn't been able to shake her nerves. Tonight, she was determined to make a better impression, even if she still felt like puking.
Luke gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, you're good, Am. Jack's chill. You don't have to be nervous."
"I know... just... want him to like me."
"He already likes you," Luke reassured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "He wouldn't shut up about how cool you were after the last time."
"Really?"
"Yes, really. I wouldn't lie to you, silly."
"Love you, Lu."
"Love you too," he leaned in to kiss her when footsteps pulled them apart.
"Aww, did I interrupt a moment?" Jack's teasing voice came from the doorway.
"Relax, Jack. We were just talking... about you."
"Oh yeah?" Jack pushed himself off the wall, making his way to the couch. "All good things, I hope."
"Duh," Luke squeezed AmĂŠlie's hand, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "AmĂŠlie was just asking what you were up to."
"Probably nothing interesting compared to you lovebirds. Was talking to Trevor--can't let Luke get ahead of me in the whole having a life department."
She tried to think of a quick response to his joke, but came up with nothing she deemed funny enough.
"Luke tells me you like studying here cause it's different. How so?"
"Um, everything... is feeling bigger here. The city, the campus. And obviously... English. There is like... zero English in my town. We use some words... but not lots."
"Well, seems like you're doing great. Don't stress it. Plus you've got this guy," he gestured to Luke, "to help you out, right?"
She blushed, "Yes, Lu is... super."
Luke grinned, leaning in and whispering, "Told you he likes you."
~~
"I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, Am," Luke admitted, wiping the tears from his face. His usually calm, relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a raw vulnerability.
AmĂŠlie had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but seeing Luke cry made that impossible. Her tears had started as soon as his had. "You will, Lu. You are so strong. And... I will not be gone forever."
He shook his head, intertwining their fingers. "I know, but... shit's gonna feel so different without you here. I'm used to having you here all the time. And now I won't see you until summer. I don't know how to do that."
"You'll have Jack, the guys, your family. I'm just... a plane away. We will FaceTime, and before you know... I am back. And I will meet Quinn... and your parents."
Luke rested his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair. She could feel his tears soaking the fabric of her jeans. "I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, Am."
"I'll miss you too, Lu. So, so much."
They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped in each other's embraces. Neither of them wanted to let go. Neither of them wanted to admit how hard the next few months would be. They just wanted to stay together... forever.
~~
AmĂŠlie was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against her water bottle as Luke's face filled the screen. His hair was a mess and his eyes drooping. She could tell he had just gotten home from practice.
"Hey, beautiful," he greeted.
"Hey, you," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "How was practice?"
"Exhausting," he groaned. "But seeing your face makes it better."
AmĂŠlie blushed, biting her lip as she smiled. Before she could respond, she heard her brothers' voices coming from down the hall.
"Ah, c'est qui, AmĂŠlie?" (who is it, AmĂŠlie?)
"Son chum?" the other laughed. (her boyfriend?)
"Ahhh, mais Luke, t'es ben chix." (Ahhh, but Luke, you're so hot.)
"Ferme ta gueule!" AmĂŠlie shouted. (Shut your mouth!)
Luke burst out laughing at the look on his girlfriend's face. "What're they saying?"
She huffed, rolling her eyes. "They're being idiots. Teasing me about you."
"Teasing, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What did they say? Come on, tell me."
She sighed, getting closer to the camera with a small smirk. "They said you're... how would that translate.... that you're 'hot.'"
"Oh, did they know? You must have good pictures of me hanging up then, huh?"
"They're just being annoying. They think it's funny to tease me because I love an American."
"Well, tell them I appreciate the compliment. And tell them I say 'hi'," he teased.
AmĂŠlie shook her head but shouted, "Luke dit bonjour!"
From the hallway, her brothers responded with exaggerated greetings in their broken English, making the couple laugh.
"They're something else, huh? I can't wait to meet them one day."
"They'll probably want you to ask Cole for free Habs tickets. But... in a few weeks, I'll be back and I'll get to meet all of your family."
Luke's eye lit up at the thought. "I know! I've been counting down the days, baby. I can't wait for you to be here again!"
"Me neither. Excited to meet Quinn and your parents."
"Yeah, my mom's super excited to meet you!"
"I'm a little nervous though."
"Don't be! They are gonna love you so much, Am!"
"I love you, Lu."
"I love you more, AmĂŠlie. Only a few more weeks, then we'll be together again. I can't wait."
"You promise?"
"I promise. And I'm gonna spoil you so much. Just you, me, and the lake."
"Can't wait."
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say yes to heaven (say yes to me)
Aizawa finds out you have a crush on him. Fluffy, slightly suggestive Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead x reader drabble. Slight age gap, teaching assistant!reader. 1,937 words.
"You know Y/N has a crush on you, right?"
You nearly choke at that, freezing up against the wall. You had been taking a phone call outside the faculty lounge when you overheard Yamada and Aizawa make their way inside, oblivious to your presence.Â
"I thought I told you to drop it already, Hizashi," Aizawa grunts.
"Wait, you know?" A third voice, Nemuri, asks incredulously, followed by a noise that sounds suspiciously like Aizawa elbowing Yamada mid-laugh.
You feel your face heat up, mortified at their discussion. Of course Aizawa knew you had feelings for him, you all but slap yourself. How could he not when you clam up and turn into a stuttering mess whenever heâs around?Â
You're well aware that plenty of the girls of Class 1-A (and even 1-B) harbor a not-so-secret crush on their sensei, and you're embarrassed to admit that you're not much better. You're always suddenly breathless and flustered to be near him.
Always a little too eager to help during training or classes. Always tripping over your words whenever he spoke to you. He must have tried to brush it off at first, but it just kept happening too many times for him to ignore.
"The only thing I know," Aizawa answers gruffly, "Is that this conversation is bordering on entirely inappropriate."
"What? Why? It's not like she's a student here or anything," Yamada retorts.
"She was, just a few years ago."
"Yeah, and now she's my teaching assistant," Nemuri counters.
But you can practically see Aizawa shake his head. "See? Same difference."
"Oh, lighten up! So you have a bit of an age gapâ"
"I wouldn't call 8 years a bit of an age gap, Hizashi."
"Who cares about that? I think she could make you happy, Shouta, and you deserve to be happy."
âNow that I think about it," Nemuri adds. "You two would be good together. You need someone who can make you smile and stop being so serious all the time, and she..." She chuckles playfully. "For some unexpected reason, really likes that about you."
"Don't tell me you haven't at least thought about it?" Yamada teases. âI see the way you look at her, too, you know."
Nemuri squeals, "Just imagine, the two of you being all lovey-dovey. It'd be so cute!"
Your heart catches in your throat, but Aizawa is quick to interject.
"It doesn't matter. None of those things you said matter. To do anything about Y/N's feelings for me would be taking advantage of her."
"Fine," Nemuri huffs. "But the least you can do is talk to the poor girl about it. You can't keep giving her the cold shoulder forever."
There's a beat of silence before Aizawa dejectedly responds, "Youâre right.â And you hear the door knob lock behind them.
______________________________________________________________
You pretend not to notice that Aizawa's awkwardly been standing behind you for almost five minutes now, hoping he'd eventually leave if you looked busy enough typing away on your laptop.
And he almost does, if it wasn't for Midnight and Mic, who you can see out of the corner of your eye, gesturing at him quietly but frantically to go on.Â
Your heart races when he clears his throat. "Uh, Y/N, do you have a minute?"
"Um..." You want to say no but can't think of a reason fast enough, so you take your time closing your laptop instead, bracing yourself. "Sure."
You get up from your seat and turn to face him, but neither of you can meet the other's gaze, which just makes everything feel all the more mortifying.Â
"I'm aware of...Er, I mean...I apologize if I've seemed a little standoffish lately."
"You mean more than usual?" You smile weakly, trying for a bit of humor.
When you look up, you're surprised to see that his expression is serious but gentle. He almost smiles for a second before he seems to think better of it.
"It's been brought to my attention that you mightâŚâ He sighs, then starts over. âIf Iâve ever given you the wrong impression, Iâm sorry. It wasnât my intention. I want you to know that I respect your feelings, but I think itâs best that we maintain a professional relationship."
âOf course! I-I neverâYou neverâUmâ" You swallow thickly, feeling your face burn up. âI agree.â
âGood. I hope this doesnât make things awkward between us.â
Like it could get any worse? You bite back the retort.
You take a deep breath, attempting to regain your composure, and plaster on another half-hearted smile. âItâs fine. We can move past it.â
He nods, his expression neutral. âGlad to hear that.â
_________________________________________________________________________
But you do not, in fact, move past it. At least not for a couple of weeks.Â
In the days that follow, you find that you can't shake off the conversation, the way he looked and the vulnerability in his voice lingering in your mind. The hours at work feel longer now that they're filled with lingering silence, heavy with unspoken words and punctuated with stilted conversations.
Even more embarrassing is the fact that everyone seems to know about your unrequited and inappropriate crush now, if they didnât already. You notice Mic and Midnight's sympathetic glances, and All-Might's whispered concerns.
Their attempts to act normal around you are agonizingly obvious, so you make it a habit to be the first one to leave every afternoon and spend most of your days alone at your table, with your eyes glued to your laptop screen or your nose buried in a mountain of paperwork.Â
So how, exactly, did you find yourself in this position? Alone with Shouta in his apartment and sitting in his lap with your fingers tangled in his hair and his tongue practically down your throat?
_________________________________________________________________________
Last thing you remembered, you were walking home when he suddenly fell into step beside you.
"Hi," you managed, giving him a weak smile. It must've been the first time you've ever been alone together since the talk.Â
"Mind if I join you?" He tilted his head to ask, his hands in his pockets and looking as tired as ever.Â
"Not at all," You tried to reply coolly, even though your heart just about dropped to the floor.
A familiar awkward silence fell upon both of you.
You bunched up your skirt in your fists, acutely aware of the way heâs looking at you. His usually stern face seemed almostâŚunsure. Finally, he broke the silence. "How have you been?â
âOh, you knowâŚâ You waved your hand dismissively. âJust trying to get through each day.â
He nodded solemnly. âListen, y/n, I hope I didnât hurt your feelings last time we talked, because thatâs the last thing Iâd want.â
You shook your head. "No, not at all. If anything, I should be the one apologizing for the position I put you in."
"I just want you to know that...It's not that I don't..." He trailed off meaningfully, his eyes downcast. "I just don't think it would be appropriate or fair to you to pursue anything because...Your feelings for meâŚtheyâre not real.â
You felt your heart skip a beat. âWhat?âÂ
"I understand that you might be confused by...that the dynamics of our relationship might have clouded your judgement and made me seemâŚâ
âStop.â You level him with a fierce gaze and he does. You do your best to sound firm despite the sting of his words. âItâs one thing for you not to return my feelings. That I can understand. But donât patronize me by telling me what I do or donât feel. Itâs clear that you think otherwise, but Iâm not a child, Shouta.â
Aizawa, surprised by the intensity in your voice, leaned back slightly. He doesn't say anything, which gives you the courage to speak your mind, telling him off before you can think better of it.
âI donât like you just because youâre older than me or I see you as some sort of authority figure. I like you because you care a lot but pretend you donât. And it makes me want to get to know you more. I admire your dedication and hard work at being a hero and a teacher here.â
He looked at you thoughtfully for a few moments, then nodded, a flicker of realization crossing his features as he absorbed your words. âYou're right. I shouldn't have assumed or tried to define your feelings for you. I apologize."
"Thank you."
"And as long as weâre sharingâŚâ He rolled his sleeves up, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. âI donât think youâre a child, you know. I think youâre intelligent and perfectly competent. In fact, I think you're amazing."
The irritation and hurt you felt just moments ago was quickly chased away by the warmth that spread within you at his surprising admission.
He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I was hesitant because I didn't want to take advantage of you, given our age gapâ"
"It doesn't bother me," you said with newfound confidence, and he couldn't help but chuckle at your boldness.
"But maybe... I've been too cautious."
You tilted your head, smiling up at him softly, sweetly, like you used to. "What do you mean?" You asked even though you already knew, you just wanted to hear him say it.
He ran a hand through his hair again, rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous habit, youâve noticed. "I mean, perhaps I've been so focused on maintaining professional boundaries that it's made me overlook the possibility of a genuine connection between us."
You bit the inside of your cheeks to keep from smiling any wider. "Are you saying...?"
He nodded, a hint of a blush tinting his face. "Would you consider having dinner with me tomorrow?"
_________________________________________________________________________
Fast forward to now, hours after dinner and one glass of wine too many, and youâve somehow managed to muster up the courage to kiss him good night.
It catches him by surprise, but once he leans into it, he doesnât let you pull away. He responds with an almost bruising eagerness, kissing you again, and again, and again, until you find yourself pressed up against the door of his apartment.
He jams his keys into the doorknob, leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.
But instead of swinging the door open like you expected, he puts his hand up against it instead, next to your face, and presses his forehead against yours.
âI donât know if this is such a good idea,â he says breathlessly, his eyes screwed shut.
You draw a steadying breath of your own. âWhy not?â
âBecause,â he drawls in that frustratingly raspy voice of his. The one so low and deep you could practically feel it vibrating against your own chest, echoing off the walls inside of you. âYou do something to meâŚto my self-controlâŚâ
You swallow thickly. âDo I?â
He nods.
âGood.â You link your hands around his nape, pulling at some of the hair there, and smile against the crook of his neck. âThen the feelingâs mutual.â
He puts his hands on your waist, gingerly, cautiously. âDoesnât make it rational.â
You kiss his jaw. âWhy does it need to be rational?â And then his cheek. âWeâre both adults.â And then gently bite his ear, whispering, âWhy canât we let ourselves want what we want?âÂ
âAnd are you sureâŚâ He pulls away a little, his eyes still closed and his eyebrows furrowed. âThis is what you want?â He finally opens his eyes to search yours, and his are so smoky and dark you feel as though you're falling through the night sky.
You take a moment to gather your thoughts, captivated by the intensity in his gaze.
"Yeah," you answer, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. "I'm sure."
His smirk is the last thing you see before your eyelids flutter close and his lips are on yours again.Â
He doesnât waste another moment.
#aizawa shouta#bnha shouta aizawa#shouta aizawa x reader#aizawa x reader#mha aizawa#bnha aizawa#amaya writes#aizawa sensei#eraserhead#aizawa imagine#aizawa shouta imagine#aizawa shouta x you#aizawa shouta x reader#aizawa shouta x y/n#my hero academia#boku no hero academia
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Attitude Check
Han Jisung x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Smut, idol Word Count: 632 Warnings: Poly!Skz (Pretty much OT8?), Implied Group sex, exhibitionism (I think that's all) â¨Masterlistâ¨
Thinking about riding Han's thigh while all of the other boys are around. Everyone is doing their own thing as you and Jisung talk. It's not an argument and to be honest you don't even know what you're talking about. All that you know is that you're being needy, you're being a brat and Ji hates it when you do that.
It doesn't take long for him to catch on, he knows you well enough to get the hint. He grabs your wrist, pulling you onto his lap facing him, propping his leg up and grabbing your hips to keep you in place.
"Ji, what about everyone else?"
"You wanted this right? What does it matter if you have an audience or not?"
He presses his thigh into your heat and a deep moan falls from your lips. He starts guiding your hips to grind against his clothed thigh, moans and gasps tumble from your parted lips as arousal pools at your core. The room starts to quiet down, everyone's eyes are on you. You can hear whispers and shuffling as the others all find a seat. Each one of them looking for the best view. Your eyes are on Jisung until you notice a figure behind the couch. You look up and catch Chan's lustful gaze on you, he's watching you so closely. His eyes flicking from your bouncing chest to your fucked out facial expressions. You grind harder once his eyes land on yours, he's biting his lip and you can see the growing tent in his pants.
"Doesn't she sound so pretty, guys?" Han asks before stealing a quick glance in your direction. You look down at him, his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyes low and lidded.
"You have no idea how much of a bratty little whore she can be." Jisung's hand reaches up to pinch and pull at your nipple, making your back arch into him but he moves you so that you stay upright. Completely on display to his members.
"How would you all like to teach her a lesson with me?" Your eyes widen at his proposal. The two of you had discussed inviting some of the members into bed but you never thought that it would happen now and with all of them at once.
"I'd be happy to." Hyunjin replies with a shrug and Jeongin and Changbin nod in agreement.
"Seungmin, Chan, I know that you two have a thing for brats." Jisung smirks as the two members make their way over to where you two are seated. "Help me handle my pouty little cock sleeve, yeah?"
"My pleasure." Seungmin takes a seat next to you. His eyes are dark and demanding. Chan keeps his spot behind the couch, his dark eyes scan your figure, taking you in completely.
"Is that okay? You want them to put you in your place?" Jisung guides your chin so that you're facing him. He wants to watch you get dicked down by his members so badly but he wants you to be comfortable more than anything. You nod your head yes but Chan clicks his tongue, crossing his arms and stepping closer.
"Use your words, princess." You gulp as Chan's piercing gaze cuts into you.
"Yes please." You take a deep breath as you start to take in the situation. If you're going to be punished you might as well make the best of it. "But it's not like any of you will actually do anything."
Felix and Minho both hum followed by a condescending laugh as they all start to crowd you. Suddenly long fingers are laced through your hair and your head is yanked back. You're met with burning eyes and a teasing smile adorning Jeongin's blushed lips.
"Are you sure about that, sweetheart?"
#skz#stray kids#skz imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids han#han#han jisung x reader#lee know#changbin#jeongin#seungmin#bang chan#felix lee#hyunjin hwang#skz smut#stray kids smut#stray kids imagines#han jisung stray kids#han jisung#skz jisung#stray kids han jisung#han jisung scenarios#han jisung smut#han jisung skz#poly skz#poly stray kids#tw smut#skz masterlist
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Second Best- Jungkook (part 4)
Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart itâs already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?
Genre:Â Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel;
Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader
Note: Thank you so much for your love and support <3 If there is any mistakes I'm sorry. Let me know so I can correct it. Lots of love
After being there for a while, lost in his thoughts, he felt an arm around him. He didn't have to look back to know who it was.
âI was looking for you baby. Why did you leave like that? I mean I wasn't expecting it but I- â Jungkook interrupted her Â
âI saw Y/n just a few minutes ago. She told me to tell you she had someone waiting for her outside and she was leaving. Did you two come with anyone else?âÂ
âY/n left? She didnât say anything else? No, we came alone but got apart after. Maybe she followed our steps and decided to get some action for the night. I was starting to worry for her, I mean who doesnât want to get laid once in a while?â Â
Jungkook looked at Sewoon with discuss and took her arm off of him, paid for what he consumed and started to leave without saying anything else. Sewoon grabbed his hand but he quickly took it out. She looked so confused he started to laugh Â
âSewoon I- did you hear yourself back there? What does it matter if she gets laid or not? Why is that even on your mind? Aren't you worried about her? She left alone with someone neither you and I know. Are you-âÂ
âWhy do you care so much Jungkook. Seriously, sheâs an adult. If she left with someone was because she felt safe with that person. Iâm sure she isn't thinking about you or me right now.â she approached him more and touched his buff chest âwhy donât we do the same, hm. Let's leave, enjoy our night together. I missed you and I know you missed me too, let's -âÂ
âIâm not in the mood Sewoon. Honestly i just want to go home. This been a hell of a night and one to forget. Are you staying or want me to drop you off somewhere?â Sewoonâs face changed drastically. From a sweet and seductive expression to one Jungkook wasn't familiar with. He wasn't about to put up with it, so he said his goodbye and left on his motorcycle. Â
-----------
Meanwhile Y/n, after that little fight with Jungkook finally found Lisa resting near a wall outside of the club. âI was wondering if I had to go get youâ âsorry this guy messed with me and then Jungkook stepped in and it was a whole mess and -âÂ
âWait wait, Jungkook? A male name you say?â she teased Y/n while she sighed âyeah like I said long story.â They started walking until they reached Lisa's car and got in, when she asked âdo you wanna go to mine? Drink some wine, eat a lot of crappy food while you tell me all about this jungkook and what Sewoon has to do with it.â Lisa didnât have to wait for Y/nâs answer since her big smile said enough. When they got to her apartment, Y/nâs mouth dropped to the floor. It was such a big and nice apartment, so cozy and simple while hers was so small she could barely move, but was the only thing she could pay for. Â
Lisa went to grab two glasses and some rosĂŠ wine and ordered some Mcdonalds, then they sat on her comfortable white couch and y/n started to explain her situation.Â
âIt happened one day during winter. I had just started working at the coffee shop. It was very rainy and windy so it was almost empty, just two or three clients max. Sana, my work collegue, was on her break and I was organizing the cupcake counter when I saw this beatiful young guy walk in. I froze. I literally panicked Lisa, you have no idea. He was so gorgeous and I was full of flour on my clothes and face and I was alone at the time so i did what I do best, embarass myselfâ Talking about this Y/n could feel it like it was yesterday and smiled so lightly and genuinely. When was the last time this happened, she thought.
âPlease tell me you didnât say any jokes involving flour and cupcakesâ Y/n gave her a tiny slap in the arm and laughed. "Pff who do you think I am? No I didn't do that, I did worse. literally hid myself under the balcony right in front of him, stayed there for a minute until he made a noise with his throat and asked me if I lost something and needed help finding itâ Â
Right there Lisa couldnât control her laughter, placing her glass on the nearest table only to fall on the ground dying of laughter. Once it ceased she grabbed the glass of wine again, taking a few sips âyou are unbelieveable Y/n. Thank you for making me laugh so much today. That happens when you revolve your life around others you know? But please continue don't let me stop you. I like where this is goingâ she mocked again.
Y/n rolled her eyes. Never has she been more embarassed in her life. âYouâre supposed to make me feel betterâ she mumbled. âWell... After that, I got up so quickly that I almost fell. I apologized and said I dropped my earring and was looking for it. The best part? I donât even have holes in my ears. But he didnât say anything about it, pretty sure he noticed I was a nervous mess and dropped it before I could make it any worse. He gave me a big smile so I smiled back, asked him what his order was and then -" Suddenly you were interrupted by a knock on the door. Lisa got up and went to see if it was your order, got back inside with it and after settling everything on the table you started to eat. Never a meal tasted so good.
-----
A few minutes later Lisa speaks again âback to our convo, what happened? After you took his orderâ. Y/n sighed âyou love to know everything donât you?â she laughed âhe asked for a cupcake and hot chocolate. He was always very kind even when I was being so weird you know? But he got me so nervous I didnât want to have any more interaction with him so I tried to stall until Sana finished her break but she was taking so long and I noticed him taking some glances over, so I knew it had to be me. As I reached his table I tripped, leading me to drop the hot chocolate on him--- Gosh I shouldn't be telling you this. Youâre gonna tease me for the rest of my lifeâÂ
âNo wonder the dude got so hooked on you after. You did quite an introductionâ Lisa said cleaning the tears coming out her eyes from laughing. âPoor guy just wanted a cupcake and ended up getting a burnâ
âDon't even remind me. I thought it was it. I just burned a client and made a mess, I was sure I was gonna be fired. But Jungkook remained so calm, told me he was okay. I helped him and didnât stop apologizing to him, told him I was new in there but that was no excuse so if he wanted to talk to the manager I'd understand and offered to pay any sort of damage. You know what he did? Turns to me and says Iâm cute. I burned him and he called me cute. I lost itâÂ
âHe seems like an amazing guy Y/n. IÂ figure ever since that day he went back to the coffee shop ?â Lisa spoke softlyÂ
âHe did. After that incident I tried to avoid him so bad but he would always ask for me to Sana, leaving me with no other choice. We ended up getting close and I developed a huge crush on him that everyone knew about but himâ Y/n gaze turns sad remembering the day Jungkook and Sewoon met. Â
"So how did he meet Sewoon?â Lisa asked curious. âAt the coffee shop. She passed by to tell me that she got in the agency she wanted and then Jungkook walked in. She knew about him and asked if that was the one Iâve been talking about. Then I went to see what he wanted to get and he asked me about my friend so I introduced them. Didnât expect them to turn out a couple. Not like that . I think I was hoping that Sewoon would refuse, knowing that I had a crush on him and that we were quite close.â
âSo she knew and still went for him? That little bitch. I knew she wasn't as good as she seemedâ Lisa said irritated. âShe asked me. One night she appeared in my house and asked me if I still liked him. I was the one who told her to go for it.â Y/n said with tears already forming in her eyes. Lisa approached her and gave her the longest hug, patting her back. âstill Y/n, thatâs very low of her. Itâs girls code. Did you ever told her no?â Your silence was the answer she needed. âGod Y/n Iâm trying so hard not to diss you right now. When are you gonna put yourself first? When are you gonna stop behaving like someone else's puppet? Be honest with me, do you like your life?âÂ
That rang a bell in Y/nâs ears. No she didnât. She wanted to visit places, have fun, be herself, leave that place she called home and stop working in the coffee shop just to focus on her dreams. She was about to answer but Lisa got ahead of her. âYou know what? Take some days off. Letâs have a girls trip you and me. Iâm bored here and you need a way out of this whole mess. Itâs time for you to find yourself Y/n.â âI donât have any money for that Lisa. Itâs hard for me to pay the rent let alone go on a tripâ
âMove in with me. Itâs just me in here and as you see, this house is huge. And no one told you anything about paying. Pretty sure you donât remember but my dad works in an airplane company. Think about it.â Lisa exclaimed super enthusiastic Â
Before Y/n could answer, her phone started to ring. She looked over âJungkookieâ
âAre you gonna pick up?â
âNo. No Iâm not. You're right Lisa I have to start doing things for me. Put myself first" she looked over the window "About your idea, Iâm in. Book us a flight. Tomorrow morning Iâll talk to the my manager. I never took days of so it won't be a problem. Let's do itâÂ
" I knew you were gonna say yes. Get ready because this trip is gonna be life changer" Lisa said making a toast with Y/n. Here comes a new opportunity. You wouldn't less this one miss.
Not anymore
-------------------------------------
Tags: @esposadomd @joonlover1207 @eegyo @furrywonderlandwolf @minghaosimp @differentrunawayperson @nikkinikj @jksusawife
#jungkook#angst#bts#jungkook imagines#imagines#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#bts imagines#jungkook x you#fluff#Romance#jungkook imagine#kpop angst#jjk#jeon jungkook
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Trigger warning: discussions of death. Not a main character, but it does happen. Lots of angst. Lots of hurt/comfort. Iâll post it in the tags as well.
Steve has a problem.
Itâs not a big problem, not really, but his brain wonât let it go and is making it a bigger deal than it really is.
Eddie wonât ride in his car alone.
With the kids, sure; heâll practically dive into the backseat, noogie Dustin, generally make a nuisance of himself.
But if itâs just the two of them? If Steve insists on driving, Eddie will take his van. Thereâs no problem if Steve wants to ride with Eddie. But the other way around? Eddie riding with Steve? That doesnât happen. And Steve has no idea why.
âTalk to him, Dingus,â is Robinâs advice. Heâd flip her off, but unfortunately he thinks sheâs right: this is something theyâre gonna have to talk through.
So Steve pulls on his big-boy pants and marches himself to the Munsonsâ trailer, knocking on the door and waiting expectantly.
He doesnât expect Wayne, but maybe he shouldâve, because thatâs who answers the door. âHi, Steve. Youâre here for Eddie, I bet, heâll be in his room.â He moves aside to let Steve in, and Steve thanks him after a second before moving down the hall to Eddieâs room.
He hears him before he sees him; or, more accurately, he hears his guitar. Heâs playing the acoustic tonight, instead of his usual sweetheart, so Steve knocks instead of walking in like heâd usually do.
The guitar stops, and Steve hears it being put down, hears a heavy sigh. âWayne, Iâm not really in the- oh.â He opens the door as he speaks and blinks at Steve. After a second, he smiles. âHey, man, câmon in.â
Steve blinks. âUh. Are you okay?âÂ
Eddie purses his lips. âDefine okay. Iâm not currently being eaten by bats, yâknow? But playing the acoustic always reminds me of my Ma.â
âAh.â Steve shifts. âSorry, man. Maybe I should come back later.â
Eddie shrugs. âYouâre here now, arenât you? I canât be that terrible company.â
Steve snorts. âNo, I just⌠I had a question, but it can wait.â
Eddie tilts his head. âYou do that a lot, yâknow?â He turns, sits on his bed. Motions Steve into his room.
Steve sits next to him, more comfortable here than in his own room. âDo what?â
âPut yourself last.â He shrugs. âYou can ask me. If I donât wanna answer, I wonât.â
Steve scrunches his nose. âOkay, fine. Why wonât you ride in my car?â
Eddie frowns. âI do, though? Hell, I did what, two days ago? You, me and Dustin went to that comic store in Indy.â
âOkay, let me rephrase. Why wonât you ride passenger in my car, alone? Without any of the kids? And even two days ago you were in the backseat with Dustin.â He shrugs. âItâs not a big deal, Iâm just curious.â
Eddie takes a breath. âNo, itâs- yeah. You should know.â He clears his throat, grabs the acoustic again. Plays a riff of some sort, fingers dancing over the frets. âI think I feel like I have to save everyone. Or at least be in a position where I can save them, if the need arises.â He swallows, takes another breath. His fingers still. They tremble over the strings. âDid I ever tell you how my ma died?â
Now itâs Steveâs turn to inhale sharply. He shakes his head. âWe can stop,â he says. âYou donât have to tell me.â
Eddie smiles ruefully. âI do, though.â He shakes his head. âI was⌠I was six. It was three days before my seventh birthday. We were driving home from the city. Ma was drivinâ, anâ she let me sit in the front seat, since it was almost my birthday. Or- thatâs what she said. I think it was so we couldnât stop her. Couldnât save her.â He swallows. His eyes are glassy. His accent is thick, the way it gets when heâs thinking about her, or when heâs emotional. His left hand grips the neck of the guitar tightly. Steve worries for his fingers. âWe werenât goinâ that fast, even, but fortyâs enough when-â he shakes his head, looks away. Coughs out something that wanted to be a sob. Steve takes the guitar, takes Eddieâs hand. Puts the guitar down. Doesnât let go of Eddie. âShe unbuckled her belt. Dad didnât see it. I did. Didnât say anythinâ. Maybe I shouldâve, I dunno.â He squeezes Steveâs hand. âThen it all happened so fast⌠she smiled at me, anâ opened her door, anâ next thing I knew-â he wipes at tears on his cheeks. âDâyou know what happens to a human head under the wheel of a car at forty miles an hour?â
Steve gasps, grips Eddieâs hand just as tightly. Pulls Eddie in when he begins to shake. âAnâ I know why, now,â he whispers. âDad werenât good to her. Iâunno what he done tâher. I know she did what she could. But I was there. I was right there.â He sniffles, trembles with the effort of keeping his sobs in. Somehow succeeds. âSo thatâs why. Figure if a kid were to try⌠I could stop âem. Figure if you were to tryâŚâ
âYou could stop me.â Steve holds him tight. âI wonât,â he whispers. âI swear to you, I wonât.â
âI know,â Eddie whispers back. âBut I gotta be able to try.â
âChrist, Eds,â Steve whispers. âI was gonna ask if youâre okay but thatâs a stupid question.â
Eddie giggles, still teary-eyed. âJust a little bit.â
Steve pulls away to look him in the eye. âIâm staying tonight, okay? Nightmares are always worse after something like this.â
âThen you should go home,â Eddie argues. âSleep while you can.â
âNightmares are always easier with someone else.â
âDamn you, thatâs true.â They both laugh a little.
Just then, Wayne comes in with two steaming mugs. âListen to your boy, son,â he says to Eddie, handing over one of the mugs. He gives Steve the other with a wink. âLavender tea with a shit ton of honey. Learned it from my ma.â
âNot my boy, Wayne,â Eddie grumbles, but thanks him for the tea anyways.
Steve thanks him too, and he winks again before leaving. Eddie rolls his eyes. âIâd apologize for him, but youâd just defend him.â
âHey, I like Wayne.â
âI know. Sometimes I think you like him more than you like me.â
Steve chuckles. âNever. Youâre my favorite.â He moves so theyâre sitting shoulder to shoulder, drinking their tea, leaning against each other. Itâs peaceful, and soon enough Eddieâs yawning and dropping his head onto Steveâs shoulder. âImma pass out soon.â
âThen letâs get you up to brush your teeth before you do.â
Eddie groans like the toddler he secretly is. âI donât wanna.â
âYeah, and you donât wanna go to the dentist to get teeth pulled, either, now do you?â
âShuddup.â
âWow. Real master of words here. Really feeling that Dungeon Master power.â
Eddie thumps his arm, but snickers, and really thatâs what Steve was going for in the first place, so he just smiles and leads Eddie to the bathroom.
Soon enough theyâre in bed, tucked in next to each other, not quite packed like sardines and itâs only because of the heat outside that Steve isnât more upset not to have more of a reason to touch Eddie. âNight, Eds,â he murmurs, smiling when Eddie rolls over to face him and is temporarily blinded by his own hair. Steve helps move his hair, grabs at Eddieâs hand when heâs done. âWake me up if the nightmare doesnât, okay?â
âCâmon, Steve, I can deal with them-â
âI know you can,â Steve answers. âBut I want to be up if you are. I want to help if I can. Please, Eddie?â
Eddie sighs after a second. âDamn you,â he says, âI canât say no to you.â Heâs smiling, despite his words, so Steve smiles back.
âThank you.â
âGânight, Stevie.â
âNight, Eds.â
Steve wakes up to Eddie crying out in his sleep. Even with his eyes closed, heâs got tears streaming down his cheeks. Steve sits up, turns on the lamp, and puts a hand on Eddieâs shoulder. âEddie?â
He rolls over, away from Steve, and continues sobbing. âEds? Are you awake?â No answer, so Steve puts his hand back on Eddieâs shoulder and shakes a little. âEddie, wake up!â
Heâs up with an aborted yell and a flail of limbs, sitting up and staring into the darkness of his room, trembling. He sniffs and turns to face Steve, finally realizing heâs there, and Steve opens his arms for a hug.
He collapses into Steveâs arms, face mashed into the side of Steveâs neck, arms snaking around Steveâs torso to give an ineffectual tug. Steve takes the hint and inches closer until theyâre practically hip-to-hip. âYâwanna talk about it?â He asks. Eddie sniffs and shakes his head. âYâwant me to talk? To distract you?â Eddie nods. âOkay. Uh⌠I may have bitten myself in the butt with this one, âcause Iâm not a great storyteller, not like you are, but did you know we actually met in middle school?â
No answer. âWe did. Hawkins Middle was putting on its annual talent show. Now, back then, I was nobody. No one knew me, my name, my parents⌠nothing. I had one friend named Tommy, who Iâd grown up with. Of course, you know him, and you know what happened between us, but he was my only friend back then. I didnât tell anyone, but I signed up for the talent show. I didnât even know what I wanted to do, I just knew I wanted to do something. Iâve always had a pretty decent voice, so I figured I could just sing, if I couldnât figure out anything else to do. Knew Iâd at least beat out Tammy Thompson.â He shifts so Eddieâs hair is no longer a choking hazard and pets his hand over Eddieâs head, doing his best to tame the wild curls. âSo itâs the night of the talent show, right? And it feels like the whole school is there. Iâm sitting backstage, peeking through the curtains, and am about to have my very first panic attack. Someone bumps into me and knocks me over. They tell me to watch where Iâm going, even though I wasnât moving. So now Iâm on the ground, thinking about the crowd, and the noise is getting to be too much, and someone grabs my hand and it all⌠stops. Just like that. Itâs silent, other than, like, a ringing sound in my ears. And this boy, the one who grabbed my hand, kneels in front of me, puts my hand on his chest-â Steve demonstrates, moving so he can grab Eddieâs hand and put it on his chest, just over his heart. â-and tells me to breathe with him. In, out. In, out. He raised his hand when we breathed in, and lowered it when we breathed out. In, out. In, out. And when my breathingâs calmed down, he tells me to name five things I can see. And you know what I said first?â
Eddie furrows his brows. âMy⌠my hair?â
âYup,â Steve nods. âBut youâd just had it shaved off, so dâyou know what I really saw first?â
âWhat?â
Steve giggles. âYour ears.â
Eddie groans and ducks his head, pressing his forehead into Steveâs chest. âHated my ears.â
âIâm gonna say something thatâs gonna sound mean, but is actually a compliment,â Steve warns him. âYour ears reminded me of Dumbo. I always loved that movie, the reminder that we donât have to change who we are in order to be loved. That sometimes the things we hate most about ourselves, the things people tease us about the most, are actually the things that help us most, in the end.â He guides Eddie to lay down. âAnd Iâm not saying your ears are what saved you. But I am saying they reminded me that everything, maybe, isnât entirely hopeless.â He smiles, tucks Eddieâs hair behind his ear. Says, âI like your ears.â
Said ear burns red. âYouâd be one of the few.â
âThatâs okay.â
âWhatâs your thing? Your⌠ears?â
Steve hums. âDid you know I cried a lot as a kid? I was very emotional, very easily moved. My dad always hated it, so I learned to cover it up. But I think itâs what got me here in the end. I couldâve told Dustin I didnât have time to help him, but I didnât. I got roped into this whole mess, but itâs how I got to know him and the kids. Itâs how I got to know Robin and you.â
Eddie smiles. âIâm glad you cried as a kid.â
Steve laughs. âYeah. Me too.â He shifts, a little closer, a little more down the bed so their eyes are level. âDâyou wanna talk about it?â
âThereâs nothing I want less.â
âDâyou think you can sleep?â
Eddie takes a breath. Steve feels the exhale over his cheek. âMaybe.â
âMâkay. Lemme know if you canât.â
âOkay. I wonât.â
âEddie.â
He giggles. âIâm kidding. Iâll let you know. I just⌠wonât stop talking at you until you answer.â
Steve hums, lets his eyes slip shut. âIâll always answer.â
âYeah,â Eddie says, so soft. It makes something warm unfurl in Steveâs chest. âI know you will.â
Steve reaches out, squeezes Eddieâs hand in answer. Lets sleep drag him down the way itâs wanted to since he lay back down.
He doesnât think about the fact that their hands are still clasped.
Heâs the first one up in the morning, and heâs a little annoyed by it because theyâd shifted during the night, so Steve is no longer facing Eddie.
His annoyance lasts for all of two seconds before he realizes thereâs a warm weight behind him and over his hip, and he figures out itâs because Eddie is behind him, arm over Steveâs hip, fingers curled against the little bit of skin visible from Steveâs shirt riding up during the night.
Steve smiles, sighs, and lets his eyes sink shut again.
He doesnât sleep, just kind of drifts, so he feels it when Eddie wakes up. He feels him tense in a stretch, feels his forehead press against Steveâs spine, feels his fingers curl farther into Steveâs stomach.
He feels Eddie wake up fully and realize the position heâs in. Feels him hum, then stiffen, slowly pulling away. Steve aches about it, but doesnât move until heâs out of bed completely, taking the time then to roll over as if heâd just woken up. âMârnân,â he mumbles, not exaggerating the sleep-rough in his voice at all.
âMorninâ,â Eddie yawns. âHowâd you sleep?â
Steve hums, stretches, sits up. âThink I should be asking you that.â
Eddie smiles. âI slept fine. Now how about you?â
âNo more nightmares?â
âNot at all. Think you chased âem all away.â
âGood.â
âSteve.â
âWhat?â
âHow did you sleep?â
âOh. Fine. Great.â
Eddie hums, but takes his word for it, offers his hand to help Steve up, which he accepts.
âCan I ask you something that Iâm pretty sure youâre not gonna want to answer?â
Eddie grins crookedly. âYou can ask me anything, Stevie. If I donât wanna answer, I wonât.â He sits back on the bed, next to Steve. âWhat is it?â
âWhat was your dad like?â
Eddie blows out a breath, looks away. âJesus, first thing in the morning, too. Uh⌠yâknow how you said your dad is a grade-A asshole?â
âYeah.â
âYeah. Last I heard, heâs in the state prison for the next⌠five? Ten? Years. I dunno, donât really keep track. Was just little things at first, petty theft, then he got an ego and started stealing cars, met a guy who could clean âem, and he justâŚâ he shakes his head. âWayne says he got too big for his britches. I say he got what was coming to him. He tried to rob someone and it⌠didnât go well. He got caught, the owner tried to scare him off, swung first, but it doesnât matter who swung first when heâs dead and my dad was trespassing, right? Tried to say it was self-defense, butâŚâ
âBut he was trespassing,â Steve nods.
âExactly. He got twenty-five for that, and itâs been⌠twelve years? So I guess heâs got⌠thirteen left. Not five or ten. Guess it feels like heâs been gone that long.â He sighs. âI went to live with Wayne before that, though⌠I had a friend, he was my best friend, and my dad⌠really didnât like how close we were. Spit out a coupleâa slurs, said something about sending me to a camp.â Steveâs breath catches. âI called Wayne that night. Poor guy drove that night, was there by⌠one in the morning? Picked me up and Iâve never looked back.â He shrugs, picks at his comforter. âTurns out Dad was right about me, but Wayneâs never had an issue, so.â He shrugs. His fingers belie his nerves.
âI think, if I were to ever tell my dad,â Steve says quietly, âa camp would be the least of my issues.â
Eddieâs fingers still for a second before continuing, not fidgeting quite as quickly as before. âYeah?â
âMhm.â
âThen itâs a good thing you donât have to tell him.â
âI think I do, though.â
âHow so?â
âHeâs got this⌠way. Of just proving himself right, every time. Itâs why I havenât left yet. He always finds a way to twist it around and show me I canât make it on my own. Not on my Family Video salary.â
Eddie hums. âMaybe not on your own,â he admits. âBut with a person or two? Thereâs Family Videos in other cities. Ask to transfer. Robinâs been making noise about heading to Indy, right?â
âI think she just wants out of Hawkins, and Indy is the only feasible place to her.â
âVery understandable. Where would you go, Steve? If you could go anywhere?â
Steve sighs. âThatâs the problem, though. I canât leave the kids.â
Eddie chuckles. âI shouldâve known. Then why not find a place in between? Maybe on the edge of town?â
âWeâre still both on a Family Video salary. I donât think even combined we could afford anything.â Steve tilts his head. âYou said a person or two. Whoâs the other person?â
âAh,â Eddie says. âWell, not to come between the platonic soulmates, but Iâm sure Wayne would love to have his life back.â
Steve snorts. âRobin loves you almost as much as I do, Eds, of course youâre welcome.â
Eddie ignores that, for the sake of his own sanity. âWell,â he says instead. âMaybe itâs time to take a crack at those newspapers Wayneâs been hoarding.â
âMaybe it is,â Steve says, a strange sort of smile playing across his lips. âAnd I can ask people. Youâd be surprised at the amount of gossip I hear at work.â
âOh, I believe it, trust me. Or are you forgetting I use to hang around Sam Goody?â
âOh, god,â Steve laughs, âI had forgotten that, yeah.â He sighs. âDâyou think we wouldâve been friends back then? If weâd known each other?â
âI donât think so.â Eddie chews at his bottom lip. âNot because of you, but because of me. I was still stuck in that high school hierarchal shit, yâknow? I wouldâve seen you as an asshole jock even though you werenât anymore.â
âI think Iâm still working on it.â
âI think weâre all working on being who we want to be.â He stands and offers Steve a hand up with a grin. âAnd yâknow what helps with that?â
Steve chuckles, places his hand in Eddieâs. âWhatâs that?â
âPancakes,â he says decisively. âCâmon, letâs go bully Wayne into making us some.â
âAnd by bully, you mean ask once.â
Eddie hums. âSame difference.â
He waltzes into the living room, arms spread wide. âSir Wayne! Our visiting prince has requested pancakes this fine morn.â
Wayne squints at him. âIâm your king, dipshit,â he says, lip quirked up in a smile as he winks at Steve. âMake your own damn pancakes.â
âWayne!â Eddie cries. âBetrayal! Betrayal of the highest order!â
âYouâll live,â Wayne deadpans. Steve giggles.
Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne. âFine,â he says. âWe will make our own. But there shall be no extra for you, sir!â
Following him to the kitchen, Steve says, âWeâll make extra.â
âDonât hurt yourself,â Wayne returns, âbut Iâd âpreciate it.â
In the kitchen, Eddie sighs with his head halfway in a cabinet. âOkay, so we donât have mix.â
âThatâs okay,â Steve says. âI can make them from scratch.â
âOr,â Eddie says, turning to Steve with a grin. âWe can go out.â
âWe could,â Steve allows. âBut then Wayne wouldnât get any.â
Eddie hops backwards onto the counter and leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. âYâknow how I said we wouldnât have been friends if weâd met earlier?â
âYeah.â
âIt really wouldâve been entirely my fault.â He sighs. âYouâre just⌠so nice. And it wouldâve been unbelievable, for me, because the Munson Doctrine dictates that all jocks are assholes and stay jockish assholes. I think what happened⌠had to happen, if we were gonna be friends.â
Steve worries his lip. âThen⌠is it bad if I say Iâm glad it happened? If only for that reason?â
âOnly if Iâm also glad it happened, for that reason,â Eddie responds quietly. âYâknow the only other person Iâve told about my ma is Jeff?â
âIâmâŚâ he pauses, scrunching his nose. âI wanna say Iâm honored, but that sounds weird.â
Eddie chuckles. âI know what you mean, Stevie.â
Steve nods, and they stay there for a minute, looking at each other, until Steve looks away with a sigh. âAlright,â he says, pancakes?â
Eddie gusts out a sigh. âPlease.â
Steve chuckles and shoves the flour towards Eddie. âHere. Two cups.â
Eddie frowns. âOnly?â
âFor now. We can always make more later if we need to.â
Eddie shrugs, but nods at Steve, as if deferring to his expertise. âDâyou have eggs?â
âUh.â Eddie checks the fridge, then the cabinet. âNo, but weâve got Spam?â
Steve snorts. âThat works. Wanna cut up a can and fry it?â
âWorks for me.â
And so they work, side by side, until breakfast is ready and theyâre all three eating side by side.
After, Wayne stretches in his seat, glances at the clock, and mutters something underneath his breath as he gets up. âThanks for breakfast, boys. Steve, you gonna be here for dinner?â
âUh,â Steve says, glancing at Eddie. âUnless Ed kicks me out.â
âNever,â Eddie swears.Â
âIâll pick up burgers on my way back,â Wayne decides. âThat work for you two?â
âDefinitely,â Eddie nods.
âSure. Thank you, Wayne.â
âSon,â Wayne starts, then shakes his head.Â
Steve gets the message: he belongs here. His cheeks burn. âThanks, Wayne,â he murmurs.
Wayne ruffles his hair as he passes.
âSo,â Eddie asks, once itâs just the two of them. âAny plans for the day?â
Steve makes a face. âI gotta work at two, but Iâm free till then.â
Eddie snorts. âLemme guess, youâre working alone?â
âYeah.â
âWell not today!â Eddie says brightly. âWhy donât I come with?â
Steve blinks. âBecause⌠why would you?â
âCause youâre my friend, Stevie. I wanna hang out with you but I canât do that if youâre at work and Iâm here.â
Steve snickers. âI guess we can talk about moving in together. Tuesdays are always the slowest day of the week.â
âYeah! Wayneâs got the papers around here somewhere.â He trails off, looking around, then bounds over to the TV with a triumphant, âHa!â He reaches into the crate the TVâs sitting on and pulls out a stack of newspapers. âOkay, we donât want anything from last year⌠beginning of this year might be too oldâŚâ he hesitates, looking at Steve. âMaybe since Spring Break? A lot of people moved out.â
Steve hums, moves closer. âGood point. Thereâs bound to be something on the edge of town.â He sighs as he sits next to Eddie. âThe only problem is Robin doesnât have a car, or even her license. And if Iâm working here, and sheâs trying to work in Indy, howâs she gonna get there?â
âWell,â Eddie begins, âwho says you have to stay at Family Video? Why not stretch your wings out? Try something else? Indyâs a big city with lots of opportunity. How about this.â He shifts so heâs facing Steve. âIf you could do anything in the world, work anywhere, what would you do? Where would you work?â
Steve fidgets with his pant leg as he thinks. âA bakery,â he decides softly.
Eddie stills for a moment. âI feel like I shouldâve seen that coming. Youâd be a great baker, Steve. Or if you want to just sell the baked goods, youâd be great at that, too. Hawkins is small enough we donât have need for a bakery. Not when you can get everything you need at Melvaldâs. But Indyâs big. I pass by two bakeries every time I head into the city.â He puts a hand on Steveâs knee. âStay at Family Video for now. But when we move, you can apply to those places. Yeah?â
âYeah,â Steve nods. He can feel his cheeks heating up, feel the excitement coursing through his body. âYou really think I could?â
âSteve.â Eddie sighs. âI think you are so much better than you see. I think you can do anything.â
âI dunno about anything.â Steve ducks his head as he blushes. âBut, uh. Thank you.â
Eddie smiles. âFor?â
Steve looks up at him. His breath catches, for a second, at the look in Eddieâs eyes. He looks away with a shrug even as his cheeks heat up. âBelieving in me, I guess.â
âAnything,â Eddie promises again.
Steve looks at him again. Really looks, even as his cheeks heat uncomfortably warm. ââŚAnything?â
Without looking away, Eddie grabs his hand. Rubs his thumb over Steveâs knuckles. Whispers it again.
Steve leans in and kisses him.
Eddie kisses back.
#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#robin buckley#starambles#tw character death#cw character death#Iâm imagining Eddie goes to Family Video with Steve that day and eventually puts on a vest another employee had left there#He does more work than Steve#Except for when the old ladies who hate Eddie on principle come in#Eddie finds out Steve can out-bitch them#He falls more in love#He does in fact have to excuse himself to the back after that. Yes they kiss about it later#I literally googled âhuman head getting run over at 40mphâ and I think the FBI agent in my phone is officially Worried#Oh well. He knows Iâve seen worse#Also in case you were wondering. I couldnât find any concrete answers. But I got Enough#No beta we die like Eddieâs mom apparently????#(Too soon?)
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andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)
a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.
note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.
series masterlist
18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!
Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.
The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite texturesâhe hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up.Â
But of all the things heâs worried about, that ranks very low on the list.Â
Heâs got a lot of mental tabs open all the timeâand the tabs, he can deal with. Itâs when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones whoâve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, heâs really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he canât seem to make that feel unimportantâeven though heâs disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying.Â
Someone knocks on the open conference room doorâhe looks up, skimming his lips over his fist.Â
âWhatâs up?â he says too quickly upon seeing Emilyâs mildly concerned face peering in on him.Â
Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up.Â
âJust⌠checking in. Havenât heard from you all morning.â
âYeah, the, uhâthe geo-profile. Iâm still⌠Iâm still working it out.â
Itâs not like heâs ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware heâs doing even worse than usual right now.Â
âOkay. Uh⌠is there anything in particular stumping you, orâŚ?â
âNope. Just not enough information. But IâmâIâm going to keep trying.â
âAlright. Got your phone handy?â
Itâs an odd questionâof course he has his phone handy. Heâs been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles.Â
âYeah. Why wouldnât I?â
Emily shakes her head. Sheâs always been particularly good at reading his moods.
âYouâre not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.â
Just as heâs about to say, why would you assume Iâm not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isnât prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because heâs worried heâll miss a call from you.Â
Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then sheâs gone.Â
He shouldnât be reading into your reticence this much. Itâs not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. Youâre busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he canât entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows heâs clingy. He knows heâs overbearing. Itâs part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he canât ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself.Â
But the problem was, and is, that he doesnât know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.
So heâd danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and itâs gotten him into trouble before. And now heâs pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didnât tell him he was mistaken and youâd clammed up and you havenât talked to him since and heâs not supposed to be reading into it this much.Â
Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesnât make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy.Â
Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine.Â
Or possibly, if he were a different kind of manâcopious amounts of alcohol.Â
So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is.Â
âLooks like you found it earlier,â the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. Sheâs pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way heâd take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesnât actually interest him. Itâs just part of processing his environment. âI can show you to it?â
He doesnât have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and heâs not flirting with her.Â
âIf you could just point me in the right directionâŚ?â
She laughs, short and dry, before sheâs pointing down a hall.Â
âKitchenette down there and to the left.â
âThanks,â he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance.Â
Sheâs the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that heâd ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if heâd met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and sheâd adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when theyâre attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that.Â
But god, does he think about you like that.Â
His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and heâs thinking about you like that. At work. As heâs pouring himself coffee.Â
Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, theyâd never guess heâs running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because heâs just pouring coffee. Thatâs one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that heâs thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when youâre naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around hisâ
He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand.Â
Maybe heâs not as calm and collected as he thought.Â
But on top of all the other things heâs dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.
âFound it okay?âÂ
Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. Sheâs wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all heâs noticing is that it doesnât look like yours. Now heâs picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossiâs. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This womanâshe might as well not even be here for all heâs actually seeing her.Â
âYeah. Thanks again.â
Then heâs gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesnât care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision thatâs too exacting to be coincidental. Orionâs Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse.Â
There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orionâs head. Theyâre all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. Itâs trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom.Â
Itâs empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. Youâre waiting for him behind the black of his lids.
At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and youâd moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards heâd take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didnât match the walls and there would be nothing youâd want for that he couldnât give to you ever again.Â
But.Â
Thatâs all contingent.Â
No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same.Â
The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peakâbut always there, always moving in slow motionâand always silent.
In real life, theyâd be aloud. Itâs why his fantasies arenât good enough. Itâs why he canât stop fantasizing about it. Thatâs the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies.Â
Not because having sex with you doesnât matterâit matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer canât have sex with you until you love him.Â
And he worries that you canât love him until you have sex with him.Â
The last time he thought that about a person, it didnât turn out well.
Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before theyâll love you back.Â
If there is, he knows for a fact itâs more than 32.
And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out.Â
Not again.Â
But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.
Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can.Â
Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, youâre not his lock screen. Itâs a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is.Â
It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too.Â
He sends you a textâthe third message in a row.Â
The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years.Â
Iâll be home tomorrow. I miss you.Â
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#dr spencer reid#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
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Shy!reader having to cover Eddie mouth while talking on the phone with her parents (being he talks way to loud) or her parents are home and he is just being him (she snuck him in)
thank you for your request!!!<3<3 eddie x shy!fem!reader (r has a mom in this)
Eddie thinks he's funny. You think he's funny the majority of the time, and you're lucky your parents think he's funny too, but there's a line between funny and embarrassing that he's just dying to cross.Â
"Is that your mom?" he asks, having turned to you at the sound of the ringing phone. His eyes light up when you nod. "Hi, Mrs. L/N!" he calls.Â
"Hi, Eddie," your mom says back, chuckling.Â
"Ask her if she likes the flowers I sent for her birthday," Eddie demands. You donât need to ask, she most definitely heard him.
"They were beautiful, Eddie, thank you."Â
You repeat her message before sitting back, trying to listen to what your mom's saying while Eddie begins his attack. He loves your attention too much, and when he isn't the sole object of it he can start to play up. For laughs, mostly, though you know there's a thread of genuineness under it all, a taut string of insecurity. You reach out to tuck a curl behind his ear, hoping it says you adore him while you're too busy responding to your mom to give him verbal reassurance.Â
Eddie melts and props himself over your lap. You're sitting on the couch, Eddie on the floor by your feet, a collectible he's painting painstakingly slow on the coffee table in front of him. He smells like PVA glue, and he has grey and white paint dried to his fingertips, but he's still the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen when he smiles.Â
"Does she want to come visit soon?" he asks. "It's been months now. Tell her I'm still amazingly handsome."Â
"Yeah, mom, he's giving me a hard time," you agree.Â
His lips part. "What! Give me that!"Â
You lean out of his reach and laugh when he climbs up onto your legs, heavy enough to hurt when his knee presses into your thigh but not strong enough to wrangle the phone from your ironclad grip.
"He's really getting on me," you say ironically, trying to elbow him away, your head twisted toward the couch cushion. He tickles your neck, and you laugh breathlessly through words, "He works me like a dog."Â
"Oh, is that how we're playing it?" he asks, his eyes wide.Â
His shirts riding up his side where he's fighting you, exposing the pale stretch of his stomach and the dark line of hair leading up to his bellybutton. You have to blink a few times to snap out of your oggling, but by then it's too late âhe snatches the phone from between your ear and you shoulder and clears his throat.Â
"Hi, Mrs. L/N. Yeah, she's fine, she's a tyrant, she had me outside painting the fence in the heat last week. I know! That's what I said," âhe crawls backwards across the couch from you, his eyes narrowed so you know he's promising some bad behaviourâ "she's a bully, Mrs. L/N, really, and it doesn't stop outside of the house. I'm always doing her dishes, always the one who has to fold the laundry." He nods, hums, his hand behind him on the table that resides next to your couch, almost pushing the telephone base to the floor. "Hm, exactly. She's ridiculously entitled, don't even get me started on how she treats me in the bedroom, I can only go for so lonâ"Â
You slap your hand over his mouth, pressed so hard you can feel his teeth through his lips. The horror you're feeling cannot be understated. You're not sure you've ever discussed sex or anything like it with your family and you're not eager to start.Â
"Eddie," you say, your heart in your mouth. You can't believe he'd be such a loudmouth about something so intimate with your mother, and kind of furious. "Did you really just do that? Give me the phone."Â
He gives you the phone. You sit back down on the couch seat and bring the receiver to your ear, mortified. "Mom?"Â
She doesn't say anything.Â
"Mom?" you ask, a cold sweat on your brow.Â
"Oh, right," Eddie says, raking his hair from his face, a picture of nonchalance, "I think I hung up on her. Somewhere between ridiculously and entitled."Â
You stare at the receiver like it might give you strength. Eddie laughs boisterously, much too happy to have pulled off such a stupid prank, and doesn't complain when you ram your head into his chest.
"Oh, I hate you," you mumble, dropping the phone.Â
He draws a line between your shoulders to make you shiver. Will the teasing never end? "As I love you," he says. His hands race up your shoulders to the juncture of your neck, where he cups your face like you're a seraphim angel. "You really thought I'd say that to her? I have to see her every New Year's for the rest of our lives, you realise? I love making your life difficult but I'd never torture myself like that."Â
"You are the most annoying boy on planet earth," you say succinctly, miserably.Â
"And I am so, so in love with you," he croons. You hate that it actually makes your heart skip.
He kisses the tip of your nose. You push him away from you and collapse into the couch, unsurprised when he positions himself on top of you, your thighs spread around his waist.Â
He pouts at you before nosing the skin just under your bra. "Don't be mad at me."Â
You cover your face with your hands for a moment. You aren't mad at him now that you know it was a ploy, but he doesn't need to know that, and you really need time to flush the mortification from your system. Eddie grabs your wrists and pulls your hands from your face, looking at you through one eye. "Will you be annoyed all night?" he asks skeptically.Â
"Yes⌠No. But you have to call her back for me. And make dinner. And tell her you were lying about doing the dishes."Â
"I do do the dishes."Â
"You offer."Â
"Yes, 'cos I'm madly in love with you and want to have your babies, not because I actually want to do the dishes."Â
"Just call her, Munson, please."Â
He kisses your neck, your cheek, and the side of your nose. "Mm, okay. But not because you asked me to. I'm sure she'd love to know why you were in the bathroom so long the last time we visited."Â
"I'll never speak to you again," you say weakly.Â
Eddie climbs off of you and gives your knee a squeeze as he goes. "Well, we'll find other things to do, I'm sure." He cackles at your expression. "I'm kidding, sweet thing! Your secrets are safe with me."Â
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things 4
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