#ask box has always been easiest and more comfortable for me

[punkiio]

Sorry for so much Fallout talk when this is technically my art blog... I just need to talk about it with more ppl and I find it easiest to have discussions on here compared to twt since I had rant without the character limit

[saturngas]

megumi warming up to you

[🪐] a few years after megumi and tsumiki got "adopted" by you and gojo, megumi finally feels comfortable enough to tell you about his little school crush. just please don't tell gojo

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre: sfw

warnings: established relationship; reader and gojo are both in their early 20s; megumi is around 8 years old; use of gender neutral pet names; megumi being gojo's number one despiser

word count: 1.4k

..

megumi was awfully quiet on the ride home. he and tsumiki were walking a few steps in front of you and satoru. not that he wasn't a quiet and reserved boy by nature, always seeming to be deep in thought and observant of his surroundings. but this time was just different. his little dark eyes were placed on the ground, guiding his careful step, while his lips displayed a subtle pout.

he seemed to be thinking hard.

you looked up at satoru who was chewing on the straw of his already finished strawberry milk box.

"satoru," his eyes fell immediately on you at the sound of his name. his left hand was intertwined with your smaller one, the warm air lingering around both of you making your hands to be a bit sweaty. "do you think megumi is okay? he looks... distracted."

"oh! yeah, of course! why wouldn't he be?" he muttered out a bit nervous, straw between his lips. were you aware of the little disagreement megumi had with a classmate a couple of days ago? he promised megumi you wouldn't know. "maybe he has a bit more homework today, baby. he probably is already thinking about the answers."

"mmm, yeah, true," you hummed. "please help him with that, yeah?" satoru felt his cheeks burn intently the moment you shot him your best puppy eyes. his round glasses slid down the bridge of his nose, revealing his big azure eyes. he left a boyish chuckle while rubbing the back of his neck.

"hah, of course, sweet pie, yeah, hah."

math was always the easiest subject for satoru. well, actually any subject was a piece of cake for him. but he liked math and physics a lot more. he would solve equations within seconds without thinking too much of them. you may have been a little jealous of him during high school when you two would compete to find out who was faster; you would lose for mere seconds.

megumi did have more homework that day, elementary-level math problems. but that wasn't the source of his concern. but he couldn't just tell satoru.

the black haired little guy looked at his benefactor. his stupid face with a stupid grin megumi just couldn't bring himself to get used to. satoru was chewing on a candy flavor gum. megumi could almost taste the intense flavor from his breath. how could he have something so overly sweet for so long in his mouth?

"what's wrong, little fella? you want to go over why two plus two equals four?" megumi sighed at his words. his worksheet displayed multiplication and division problems. of course he already knew how addition worked.

his tired eyes followed your silhouette as you helped tsumiki with a dna three-dimensional model. you were a lot more thoughtful, more considerate of others' feelings. you had the communication skills satoru lacked. for a second, megumi realized why satoru was with you, something he was questioning the moment he met you.

megumi was going to tell you.

it was the perfect moment. the idiot of your boyfriend was out in a mission and tsumiki had asked for permission to stay at a friend's. megumi was walking next to you. again, he looked lost in thought.

"megumi—," you cut yourself before spitting out the honorific -chan. the little guy hated being called megumi-chan. satoru did it all the time and megumi now can't handle it even if it comes from you. "are you alright? is there something you would like to tell me?" you said almost in a whisper.

the eight-year-old boy looked at you with indifferent eyes. he now was in the deepest of deep thoughts.

you sensed his little body tensing at your question. "hey, hey—, it's okay megumi. I won't tell satoru if you don’t want to, okay?"

his sight softened. bingo. that always worked with the little kid.

"I think... I've caught an interest in someone." megumi muttered below his breath, little fingers fidgeting. his glance on the ground as a deep shade of pink adorned his pale face.

oh, so this is what's about... you were fighting off a big smile that threatened to appear. you needed to remain serene if you wanted megumi to keep opening up to you.

"oh... who?" you said as softly as possible.

"it is a girl. she is nice. but she is from fifth grade." megumi sounded a bit sad. your heart crunched a bit. he was just a third grader. you weren't surprised he liked a girl who was older that him though. the little boy had complained before about his female classmates being a bit too... immature.

"where did you meet her, megumi?"

"from the art club tsumiki is in. I went with her once because I didn't have anything to do, and I saw her. she is very smart and is really good at acrylic painting."

so now everything makes sense. a few days ago, megumi had asked satoru the price for some acrylic paints that weren't made in Japan. you assumed the little girl had mentioned the brand and megumi was curious.

"what do you want to do about it, megumi?" the black haired boy fell silent again, so you continued, "do you want me to help you with getting close to her, or—"

"no, I want to do it on my own," he cut your words quickly with a serious tone. "just maybe... could you help me with some money? I promise to pay it back."

megumi was so cute you were sure your heart would turn into liquid from the way it was melting.

"ha ha! it's totally fine, megumi!" you let out a giggle. "of course I'll help you and you don't have to pay it back, 'kay?" you suggested with a big smile. "and I promise I won't say a word to satoru," you winked at him.

megumi felt relieved.

two weeks had passed since your little arrangement with megumi. he was actually very secretive with it. tsumiki was probably aware of his little crush on her classmate, but wasn't of the deal megumi made with you.

megumi was serious when he said he wanted to do it on his own. he only asked you for 7,000 yen. and that was the last thing you knew about all this.

you were getting ready for bed when satoru interrupted your skincare routine placing a wet kiss on your cheek. you groaned as he prepared to brush his teeth.

"baby, did you know megumi has a girlfriend?" satoru mumbled as toothpaste ran down his perfect chin.

"what?" you acted genuinely surprised. megumi already made her his girlfriend?

satoru grabbed a towel to dry his face and wipe off the counter. he always made a mess when brushing his teeth. "yeah baby. when I picked them up, he said goodbye to a girl, and I mean—! I have never seen him bid farewell to absolutely no one, not even me!" he said a bit exasperated, looking up at you with his baby blue eyes. "im pretty sure that's his girl or something."

poor megumi, his deepest secret was known by his greatest enemy. you sighed softly as you finished applying your lotion and walked close to satoru.

"that could be a possibility, 'toru," your hand roamed through his hard back as the other one went up to fidget with his soft white locks. satoru stared down at you lovingly, his arms encircling you with a tight grip. "but please, do not tease him." you voice was so hard and stern that it made the young sorcerer swallow all the spit in his mouth down his throat.

"yeah baby, no problem—."

"no, satoru, im being serious right now. leave him alone." you were dead serious, satoru knew. his lips moved unconsciously to yours to erase the subtle pout that was starting to form on your face.

"i promise, shnookums," he left a chaste kiss on your nose. "well then, I'll have to tease you tenfold babyyy~!" satoru hugged you with all his mighty force, knocking the air out of you. his large arms made you feel so safe and warm. satoru gave the best bear hugs.

"somebody gotta receive all my love~" you giggled at his words. satoru loves everyone, however many people may find his love language a bit… obnoxious and annoying. his lips now teasing your earlobe while his large hands rubbed your back. "or else my little brains might explode and— wait, baby," his warm lips left your skin, as he opened wide his blue eyes.

"what, what."

"so that is why you made a withdrawal of like seven thousand yen? to give it to megumi?"

"satoru are you checking my bank account?"

"baby I can't help it~," he whined out loud, his face snuggling down your neck while planting wet kisses around your neck. you couldn't help but feel funny when his hands danced under your shirt, caressing your hot skin. "you should end your independency and start using my credit cards."

your boyfriend was so shameless.

[euovennia]

Okay hi hello I’ve just binged your platonic Simon x reader headcannons and as an aspec person I am absolutely EATING THIS SHIT UP - Simon deserves someone to lean on and seeing him be vulnerable and care for someone like that and who will do the same for him makes my heart melt.

however, I am also a hopeless romantic and an absolute sucker for pain and the thought of Ghost catching feelings and being completely unaware of them because he’s barely used to having a friend let alone a crush; only realising after y/n does something he’d usually find stupid only to find himself completely smitten over it and him just going “oh. oh nO” and queue the internal turmoil because he has no idea what tf to do with himself and god forbid if y/n actually likes him back-

This has been plaguing me all morning and I cannot act right so I had to share it :,)

this can be a read as part of the bff ghost series i have going on, but i see it more as a "what if" kinda thing bc i strongly believe this man just needs a good friend. thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: nothing comes to mind, but lmk if you see something that needs to be added and i'll do it asap!

summary: ghost panics when he realizes he likes you just a little too much.

anon you're so smart for this because i genuinely feel like friends to lovers is the the easiest way for simon to fall in love

like there's already a deep, established trust there (in terms of being on the battlefield)

i mean obviously because if there wasn't you wouldn't even be on the team in the first place

but the trust he places in you on the field paired with the trust he has in you off the field?

i think it's safe to say that while this man doesn't realize it yet, he's already a goner

the meals you share, the low-budget hollywood action films you hate watch, and the unbelievable amount of patience he has for your shenanigans

basically, you two have become two peas in a pod (despite him not wanting to be in the pod in the first place but who cares he's your friend and that's all that matters)

and i genuinely believe of he were to start falling for one of his friends (aka you) it would be a very slow process, one that neither of you realize is even taking place

it would be the little things like you willingly making making the same dish two days in a row for your little meal times because he just likes it that much

maybe even leaning your head on his shoulder while you two watch those bad action films because, deep down, he loves knowing you trust him enough to feel so comfortable with him (bonus points if you end up falling asleep)

ordering him his favorite brand of loose leaf tea that he can never seem to find anywhere on store shelves

god forbid you memorize the way he prepares his tea and randomly show up with a steaming mug of it at random times of the day

as i said before, it's the little things that do it for him

but imagine doing all of those things on the. same. day.

like

you know he woke up extra early to help price take care of some paperwork and while he's doing that you stroll in a mug of tea

then later on when you see him for lunch he finds you made two plates of bangers and mash (sausages and mashed potatoes, it's a british thing apparently) despite having it the day before and when he asks why you just say something like, "yesterday you said you wished you could have more, figured i'd make more"

then later in the evening when everyone's retired to their rooms, you walk into his with the all too familiar box of loose-leaf tea in your hands along with a blanket

you just kinda set the box on the bedside table before dragging him to sit on the floor in front of the tv the two of you snuck into his room one night after price banned them after soap broke his and he was the one who had to clean up the mess

he totally saw you two sneak it in but never bothered to say anything because he trusts you

anyway

you flick on the tv and put on the third installment of that god awful 'sharknado' movie series you two had found out was a thing not too long ago

and all is well

until you lay your head on his shoulder and grab onto his arm as you look over his tattoos

he'll probably give you a little glance before turning his attention back to the movie, it's not uncommon for you to do things like this

but then he'll feel something cold press up against his skin and he'll look down again just to see you holding a colored marker and scribbling inside the lines of his tattoo

and as much as he wants to pull away and throw that marker to the other end of the room

he just can't bring himself to do it

not when you're pressed up against his side with your hands cradling his arm as if he was worthy of such care in the first place

obviously this night wouldn't be complete without you falling asleep against his shoulder, so that's exactly what you do

he lays you to sleep on his bed while he makes himself cozy on the floor :)

anyway cue him getting up early for his morning shower and the complete and utter shock that hits him like a truck when the marker you used the night prior to color in his tattoos doesn't wash off

he makes a bee line for his room and immediately picks up the marker you used only to find out it's sharpie

and while he knows that this would be a perfectly acceptable time for him to wake you up and chastise you for doing such a thing, he doesn't

because when he looks down at his arm he can practically feel his chest bloom with a warm, fuzzy feeling because you did that

and it's after he's stared at the colorful markings that now grace his skin does he realize he's got a small smile etched onto his face

then it hits him like a truck

he likes it because of you

he likes you

it cannot be overstated how quickly he grabs his stuff and leaves the room, not caring in the slightest that you're still wrapped up in his sheets

he doesn't do much work that day

just a lot of aimless walking around base as he tries to, in his words, get his shit together

because, in his mind, this is probably just about the stupidest thing he can do

and it's not even because he's technically your superior, that's a mess all on its own

it's the fact that either one of you could quite literally die at any given point while on a mission

and that's not even bringing up his own mountain of trust issues and insecurities

it's a mess

he's a mess

and how does he deal with this mess?

by avoiding you like the damn plague

you thought it was bad when he was trying to duck out of your pre-friendship interactions when you seemed to always be trying to find a way to bug him? think again.

he becomes practically invisible to you

his callsign isn't 'ghost' for no reason

i can honestly see it getting so bad to the point where you start to really only see him on group missions

which isn't too horrible admittedly because you always manage to squeeze in some small talk, but it's not enough

but one day, price calls the two of you into his office with laswell patiently sat waiting on a video chat over his laptop

and it's revealed that you two are being sent on a mission to gather some intel about some new terrorist group that's popped up on laswell's radar

and he just kinda sits there and accepts the fact he'll have to be paired up with you because what's he gonna do? tell laswell and price no? absolutely not

anyway

i imagine the mission going off without a hitch

i'm talking real simple, just a quick in and out before ghosts is on comms requesting an evac

that's where things go wrong

because you'll get some bullshit response like, "oh no, bad weather, can't fly like this, looks like you'll have to wait! get cozy!!"

and while you are a bit disappointed when he breaks the news, you can't help but feel a little happy because now you actually get to see and interact with simon for more than five minutes

but while you're over in your head having a small celebration over the unforeseen circumstances, simon is pretty much dreading it

he knows you know he's been avoiding you and he's 100% sure you're going to make him sit through an awkward conversation about it

and what's worse, he's certain you won't stop until he tells you why

well it's a good thing he knows how to keep his mouth shut!

at least he thought he did

because after having you ask him for the reason of his sudden avoidance of you for what he swears has to be the hundredth time, he just spits it out in a small fit of anger and annoyance

and i highly doubt he'll realize what he just said until he looks over to you after not getting a response and seeing you there with your eyes wide and jaw open

he'll definitely try to backtrack with something like, "forget what i said. you didn't hear anything."

and then your brain will finally kick in after going haywire for an unnecessarily long amount of time and you'll just kinda ask him in a small voice, "did you mean it?"

and as tempted as he is to brush you off and say no, he can't bring himself to do that

but remember, simon is still a very hurt man underneath that mask and heavy duty gear, so i can imagine him just letting out a small sigh before saying something along the lines of

"i'm sorry."

and your heart just breaks because you can practically feel the shame radiating from him as he turns himself away from you and averts his gaze to the floor

simon riley, perhaps one of the most hardened and strongest men you'll ever come to know, apologizing for the way he feels

you can't help but shuffle closer to him until you're sitting by his side

and you'll sit in silence this way for a while as he tries to ignore just how close you are while you try to find a gentle way to approach this

you're stumped

but eventually, your eyes will fall onto the floor and simon's gloved hand will come into your vision

and there's not a single thought in your mind before you're reaching out and putting your hand on top of his

the man practically malfunctions

he's sitting there, thoughts going a mile a minute as he tries to decipher what this means

but then you'll lean your head on his shoulder and he's almost startled at the way all of the noise in his head seems to just disappear

but still, he can't resist asking

"what now?"

and you'll let out a small, wistful sigh as you nuzzle your head further into his shoulder

"whatever we want."

he'll look down at you with an almost shy gaze, "and if i want you?"

and you'll interlace your fingers and punctuate it with a squeeze, "then you can have me."

and that's good enough for the both of you

at least until you get back to base

:)

[marshmallowprotection]

Hey Kait! I'm not sure if somebody's asked this before, but what do you think SE Saeran's process of falling in love would be? How would he perceive the feelings at first? Would he even know what it was? Would he be confused? Resist, ignore? Even be frightened of it? Do you think he'd avoid his mc like the plague because he doesn't want to burden them with him because he's 'broken goods', or, would he welcome those feelings as something new and something good? 🤔💖

I think it hugely depends on one simple fact. Did he know you when he was in Mint Eye or not? Because, his actions are going to change depending on that answer. If he didn't know you, then his emotions are likely tangled together in a way similar to what you mentioned to me.

It's more likely that you'll see him pull away from somebody who is compassionate and considerate of his needs because they don't know what he's done and who he was before they met him. He just doesn't know what it feels like to be treated with compassion without someone wanting something in return, the nature of his relationship with Mint Eye was that of take-take-take. It took everything from him and he never saw a single return. 

When you don't know what it's like to not only give everything you have to give to people you care about but receive it in return, it can make relationships feel imbalanced. He wouldn't want somebody to give him their all only to realize that he may not be capable of doing that. It's going to take a long time before he's ready to get into a relationship, and even when he gets into a relationship, it may take even longer for him to learn his boundaries and how to communicate his wants and needs. 

I don't think he would avoid you like the plague, but I do think it may feel that way at first when you're trying to get to know him. If you don't know what kind of person he is, you might misunderstand his body language. He is uncomfortable with people getting too close to him, so you need to respect his boundaries as you get to know him so he can feel more comfortable with you around. He has spent most of his life feeling like a caged animal, so anything you can do to help him not feel like he's trapped will make a hell of a difference in the way he thinks about you. 

But, even if you do everything right, even if you respect his boundaries, even if you give him the space he needs as you become his friend first and foremost, he will undeniably face insecurities and fears along the way. He does feel like he's damaged goods! Why in the world would anybody want to be close to somebody who has to fight himself every morning to find a reason to survive?

That's how he feels about himself. He can't always promise that he's going to have a good day, and he doesn't want to ruin somebody else's day because of it. Even if you make him feel good, better than he's ever felt, how could he not be afraid of what might happen if you get too close to him? 

It's not even that he would doubt your ability to defend yourself or hold your own against him, it's more so that he can't understand why you would give somebody like him a chance to begin with. If you knew his hands were tainted with blood, would you feel the same? I don't think you have to fight him to make him like you.

For him to become your friend in the first place means that he already liked your company.

You're not going to jump into a relationship with him without having been his friend for a couple of months, and even that is a process. He doesn't know how to communicate what he's feeling on the inside. Imagine the inside of his head like a box with a bunch of trinkets in it that you like to shake. There are a lot of things going on inside his head, some good, some bad, and once they get all mixed up, it's hard to explain what's going on. 

The easiest thing to do would be to avoid you if he can't tell you how he's feeling.

But, since you love him, you probably are a pretty stubborn person. Sometimes, you need to be a little bit stubborn with him because just like his brother, he might try to pull away to spare you what he thinks to be damaged goods. You don't have to be the one to make him believe he's priceless, you just need to smile at him so he can learn that lesson for himself. You can't fix him, and you shouldn't be trying to fix him, but you can love him for who he is and that's when he'll realize that he doesn't have to hate himself. 

He doesn't have to fester.

He doesn't have to suffer.

He can live.

He can even live happily.

[droughtofapathy]

how do you see so many shows so often? I want to start seeing more shows but I don’t know where to find really cheap tickets

This is my favorite question and the answer is actually not rush or lottery. I never pay full-price for anything unless it's a very rare circumstance (like the Follies concert where I didn't care what I paid so long as I was in that room).

Here's what you need to do:

TDF: $35 yearly membership fee (first year only, after that it's $40) for the best discounts across NYC theatre. Tickets cost between ~$11-$60, depending on the class, and seats are assigned by the box office. I've been able to sit prime orchestra in seats costing hundreds for about $60. It's gotten a little pricier over the years (used to be $54 for a Broadway musical back in 2019, now it's $63, including fees). Membership is closed to specific groups/communities, but nearly everyone is eligible. It pays for itself within a show or two, so it's worth it.

Age-based discounts: the non-profit Broadway companies all have some sort of "30 under X" discount for young theatergoers. Many off-Broadway companies have really great student/under 30 deals too if you just do some searching before you buy.

Second Stage is "30 under 30" and I've found that by buying the season subscription (five shows for $150, so same price as single ticket sales), I get access to much better seating choices. Can be ordered online or at box office (sans fees). The shows are a mix of two Broadway, and two or three off-Broadway, and possibly a small fringe show thrown in depending on the season. Last season it was two Broadway and three off.

MTC is "30 under 35" and consistently has great shows. Can be ordered online or at box office (sans fees). The MTC's theatre (Friedman) has the most comfortable mezzanine seats in all of Broadway. Plush, high back, wide. It's luxury. And the side seating has pretty good sightlines, so there's not a bad seat.

Roundabout has the most generous one at "30 under 40" with their HipTix program, and this also eschews any fees even when ordering online. It's the easiest out of the three, though slightly more restrictive in what seats are offered. Never sit in the rear mezzanine of either the Todd Haimes or Studio 54 theatres. Bad times for very different reasons. Go side orchestra every time.

All three of these programs allow two tickets per show, though some won't allow guests of any age and some will.

Comp Tickets: There are a few paid programs you can join to get access to free (with a $5 per-show ticket fee) tickets. Last year I did TheatremaniaGold for $80, and this year WillCallClub for $15. Neither are really worth it, if you ask me. Most of the shows are the weird little fringe things that aren't selling, and while that may be fun, it doesn't really end up being great if you want to see Broadway unless it's a Big Flop. The Broadway shows I've seen listed include: Bad Cinderella, The Shark is Broken, and Lempicka, to name a few.

I'm also somehow on some comp lists where I get emails every now and then to see shows for free. I cannot tell you how to get on these lists, because I didn't do anything. It just happened. That's how I got to see Kimberly Akimbo so many times for free.

In-Person Box Office: If I have to get a ticket outside of these avenues, I always go to the box office to save on the online fees, which can be anywhere from $9 to $17, and that's money I want for me, not the predatory sites like telecharge and ticketmaster.

NYU ScholasTix: As an NYU alumnus, I get access to the school's discount program, but I've found the tickets aren't that discounted, and the seats are bad. And also you have to go all the way downtown to the NYU box office at Skirball Center to pick them up instead of going to the theatre box office before showtime. I hate it, and it's inaccessible, and the accessibility service is garbage, so I don't do this unless there are no other options (i.e. really popular Broadway play that won't ever be on TDF). Many city schools have similar programs, and you should definitely check because they don't advertise well.

Rush/Lottery: Every now and then, I'll do a digital lottery or rush. I don't do it in person because I just can't with my knees. Also, I have an adult job and can't just stand around the box office at ten in the morning. Shubert Broadway shows use the telecharge rush system. Jujamcyn/Ambassador use Lucky Seat for lottery only. Nederlander shows use Broadway Direct. Then there's the off-Broadway companies and non-profits that use the TodayTix app, and that one's a bitch to win, but hey, it's possible.

Seatplan: If you're like me and see too much Broadway, you can start uploading seat pictures to SeatPlan to earn rewards points. Every 4,400 points, and you get a free $50 telecharge gift card. Depending on how many points you earn per show (between 40-120), you can get a card every 36-50 shows, so that's easily one a year for me.

Other programs I don't use include:

The Theatr app, which is a new thing where people can sell tickets their not using either at cost or discounted, so it's never a situation where resellers profit. Anyone trying to sell fraudulently is immediately removed, and their customer service is pretty quick on the trigger.

TKTS booths at Times Square and at Lincoln Center. Those are day-of tickets usually going for 30-70% off depending on the show. I've gotten tickets through them before, but I don't stand in lines anymore. It's decent for the tourists though.

[caelumangeli]

*Sender stabs Receiver non-fatally as a warning.

Sunder has never cared for knives, not when his warhammer caves skulls as easily as popping soap bubbles- but sometimes even this hulking dragonborn feels the need for more delicate measures.

The elf had stolen from him, and while Sunder has certainly never minded looting the dead- he is still very much alive, and this little rat has crossed a line. The pale scales of the dragonborn has intent written across his face.

It's clear that he's terrified of the massive barbarian, but that only brings Sunder more satisfaction as he corrals him into the alley's dead end. The dragonborn is grinning at him, horned brow aimed low to make eye contact with the shorter elf. His teeth are exposed, fang like and wicked, layered over one another nearly like a shark.

Sunder brandishes the knife as he approaches, but stops short of the thief when he presses his back against the stoney wall. Being in the outskirts of the city, the guard presence is less here- not that the dragonborn is all that worried about being arrested.

"How 'bout you cough up what's mine, and the rest of your scores for today; maybe I won't gut you for touching my coin."

@hierophants-hourglass {Ask Box Memes}

Jesse was far from comfortable. He hardly felt at ease as he was out with the party, much less so at the camp itself. Sure, it was better and managable when he was with others. Like having more people around meant he had a bigger safety net. Something to hide behind, someone to help him or protect him. It was always easiest for him when he was able to sucker up to the strongest or most influential, and pretty much be fine or even get off nearly scott free. Unfortunately their.. camp setting made it a little more difficult to accomplish that.

The strongest person could easily be a tie between 2-3 people, the ones he thought most influential weren't exaactly utilizing that with their campmates, but the one who clearly established himself as the most dangerous or unstable was by no means an option of someone to get close to in Jesse's books. He was insane. Huge, incredibly strong, unpredicable(where as most likely, something bloody and violent was to occur, and it was more surprising when he wasn't about that). The only thing he was sure he could probably talk that thing into was some bloody form of murder that would make Jesse want to throwup upon sight. That, unfortunately, didn't seem to stop Jesse's kleptic tendancies, as often he didn't even realize he was doing it.

So he was caught quite off guard after he found himself casually ushered into the back alley after having tried to ease his tensions with a few off hand comments and jokes. He didn't realize he would have been so bothered by his comments. But making awkward jokes while he tried his best to stand still and not make his fear shown was the only thing he really knew what to do in this case.

"-Uhhahh I-if you w-wanted to get me alone I'm sure there-there's cleaner places we uh we- could've..." He said, voice an octive higher than usual as his head turned back quickly to glance behind him and back infront of him again. Despite his attempt at brushing the action off as some kind of suggestive joke or something, his heartrate spiked, body shaking in fear as he found himself backed against a wall, his hands feeling behind him to feel nothing but solid stone all around-fuck- no place to escape to either. Jesse swallowed as bits of hair now drenched in sweat from the heat of the sun, armour, and the mini Dragon most threateningly towering over him.-Scratch that. Literally threatening him and towering over him.

"I- I don't- I didn't--" He stammered as his shaking hands rushing to grab from his pouch. "I- It's just- it's just this I swear I didn't- I'm not trying to- just- l-let's p-put down the knife and think for a minute."

[futurefarmersamerica]

do you have any advice for explaining your preferences to potential sexual partners who aren't likely to be into feedism? I don't think I can enjoy myself in a sexual context unless I can openly focus a lot on my partner's belly but I think I'm a lesbian and it's a really fraught body part for so many women, so the more early communication the better probably. I think my options are stick to somewhere like Feabie (I'm slightly put off by the amount of men but I guess filters exist), or start going on about bellies at the beginning of any potential hookup?

hey sorry if this has been in my ask box for a while! with this being a sideblog I don't check my notifications here as often. I totally agree that open communication early on is the best way to go about things, imo waiting too long can just make things get messy & complicated & make it harder to feel like you can say anything.

I guess my advice depends on how you're planning to go about meeting people, I've never been interested in casual sex so having to tell a potential hookup I just met isn't something I have any experience with. but as far as online dating yeah feabie is the easiest in being open about it but soooo limited in terms of the member pool, like even I in a big city always had hardly anyone I'd even be interested in locally when I was on there more. what I found worked best for me was joining feeld & being open about what I'm into on my profile! I probably wouldn't have done the same on a more standard site like tinder (and never did back when I used to be on there) but feeld is much more open with the majority of users being kinky/poly/queer. I know not everyone is gonna feel comfortable being as bold as I was including both pictures of myself and "feedist & qfa" on a profile lol the way I see it is being on feeld is enough of a "what we're YOU doing at the devils sacrament" that I didn't have as many privacy related concerns. & it did make it a lot easier to have that out of the way! I went on a good handful of dates from there & everyone I went out with was totally cool with it or at least open to it in the "I had to google it after reading your profile but yeah sure why not" kind of way. & this method is also how I met my current partner! hopefully some of this is helpful for you!

[railingsofsorrow]

300+ followers celebration

•°. *࿐。o○☆ 𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗠𝗬 o○☆ ′࿐•°.。

A/N: i still can't believe I'm at 300 followers, thank you so much guys!! this give me so much motivation to keep writing. this blog has been my little relief from my busy college days. now, I'm creating this little celebration so you can fill up my ask box with requests &lt;3

❝ we've traveled the seas, we've ridden the stars we've seen everything from saturn to mars... ⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱

[ GUIDELINES & RULES ]

― i will not write: smut; age play; zoophilia or any topics related. and you must pick characters just from the list below.

🪐pick a character (special spots to go stargazing)

— can be reader insert, character x character or no pairing.

🪐pick a length (travel through a galaxy)

🪐pick a trope (visit a planet)

🪐pick a dialogue prompt

🪐specify if you want canon, canon divergence, au, soft or heavy angst, etc, or if I can go with the flow.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. SPECIALS SPOTS TO GO STARGAZING ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

🪐pick a character

the beach ― “stupid things have good outcomes all the time”

jj maybank

kiara carrera

pope hayward

sarah cameron

john b routledge

cleo (does anyone know her last name???)

the forbidden forest ― “I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good”

remus lupin

sirius black

james potter

peter pettigrew

regulus black

pandora lovegood

lily evans

marlene mckinnon

the fbi headquarters ― “wheels up in thirty”

spencer reid

emily prentiss

jennifer jareau

the mystic grill ― “i was feeling epic”

stefan salvatore

caroline forbes

bonnie bennett

the compound ― “always and forever”

klaus mikaelson

kol mikaelson

rebekah mikaelson

freya mikaelson

the empire state building ― “with great power comes great responsibility”

andrew!peter parker

tom!peter parker

♦

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. TRAVEL THROUGH A GALAXY ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ

🪐pick a length

milky way

the Milky Way is made up of approximately 100 billion stars. the concentration of stars in a band adds to the evidence that it is a spiral galaxy and the amount of dust and the dominant colors of the light match those we find in other typical spiral galaxies. ↬ drabble = 100 words

andromeda galaxy

Andromeda, also known as Messier 31 (M31), is a spiral galaxy located about 2.5 million light years away. It has a past involving collisions and accretion of other galaxies. ↬ blurb = 200 + words

alcyoneus

the Alcyoneus galaxy — named after the son of Ouranos, the Greek primordial god of the sky — was discovered about 3 billion light-years. It is considered the largest galaxy discovered and it also provides insights about the cosmic web. ↬ oneshot = 400 + words

♦

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. VISIT A PLANET ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

🪐pick a trope (you can either choose one or mix two or more tropes)

friends to lovers

platonic

fake dating

enemies to lovers

second chance at love

grumpy x sunshine

star-crossed lovers

love confessions

♦

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. STARE AT A CONSTELLATION ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

🪐pick a dialogue prompt

alpha canis majoris ( angst )

[1] [2]

also known as "canis major", it represents the bigger dog following orion, the hunter in greek mythology. home to the brightest star in the sky, sirius, as well as to several notable deep sky objects.

lupus ( fluff )

[1]

"the wolf" lies in the southern hemisphere, between centaurus and scorpius. lupus contains two stars with known planets and no messier objects. the brightest star in the constellation is men, alpha lupi, with an apparent magnitude of 2.30.

lyra ( hurt/comfort )

[1] [2]

the constellation is associated with the myth of the greek musician and poet orpheus. lyra lies in the northern sky and represents the lyre, a musical instrument with strings used in antiquity and later times. contains six formally named stars: aladfar, sheliak, sulafat, vega, xihe, and chasoň.

leo ( touch-starved )

[1]

one of the easiest to spot over earth, the leo constellation is the 12th largest of all the constellations and can be found by looking for the head of the lion, or the "sickle," starting at the regulus (alpha leonis) star.

vulpecula ( platonic )

[1]

its name means “the little fox” in latin. the constellation was depicted as a fox holding a goose in its jaws. the stars were later separated to form two constellations, anser and vulpecula, and then merged back together into the present-day vulpecula constellation.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

ready to stargaze?

⋰ ⋱ ⋰ ⋱

...as much as it seems like you own my heart it's astronomy, we're two worlds apart. ❞

[dutifullyshamelessearthquake]

Do you have any advice for how to write an ending to a fic? I always feel like my endings r super awkward and random :’)

Endings are most certainly not my strong suit, but I'm happy to help as much as I can! Let me talk about how I tend to write endings

For the most part, my endings aren't exactly special in any way. I also struggle with ending a fic (I think a lot of writers do) and I've been stuck on that last line for days before finally wrapping up and editing a fic. So maybe my methods aren't the best, but they're what works for me!

Obviously the type of ending will largely depend on how you as a writer want to end your fic! Do you want the ending to be soft and fluffy? Angsty and sad? Do you want to end it with a cliffhanger? Do you want to set the scene for a sequel? There really is no wrong answer here, and it largely depends on what you want to do with it.

For me, I tend to default to the soft, fluffy endings; since I typically write standalone one shots, with the theme usually being a sick character with a close friend/partner as a caretaker. Looking through my works, I was actually surprised to see just how similarly all my fics end! A little branching out is probably in order for me, heh.

My fics almost always wrap up with the caretaker character reassuring the sick character that they will feel better soon, and offering rest/water/distractions, etc. Here are some examples of the final line in several of my fics;

As you can tell, my fics all very much have a cookie-cutter ending. The caretaker character will reassure the sick character, sometimes assure them that they're loved and they're there for them, while offering a comfort. Sometimes I'll include the sick character miserably accepting; "Yeah, that sounds good," "Okay, let's do that," "That sounds nice"

You'll notice I personally like to end on a line of dialogue, but this is honestly just personal preference. I overthink my endings a lot, and I often worry about them feeling choppy or awkward.

I really hope this post was able to help, it wasn't really advice, more so just me sharing my own process! Watching how other authors do things has been the easiest way for me to learn. This also kind of motivates me to maybe think outside the box and see about writing some different endings! I haven't done many cliffhangers... Or what if I wrote something that ended with a character alone and miserable, instead of with a caretaker? So many possibilities!

Good luck with your own writing!! Remember, my inbox is always open if you want to ask anything, or even want somebody to read over what you've written. I'd be happy to help however I can!

Happy writing!

[jekyll2life]

So what relationships do they all have? Any friends, enemies, love interests? How do they get along with you?

Good first question Anon! 💖 I guess the easiest way for me to answer is with a list. This post is going to be very long, so I split it into two parts.

Part 1: How do all the dolls get along with each other

Jackson, Frankie, and Holt are in a romantic polyamorous vee (that means Frankie dates both Jackson and Holt, but Jackson and Holt don't date each other). The three of them have been basically inseparable ever since Frankie came home. At home, they're always together. When going out, sometimes I take Jackson by himself but a lot of the time I also take all three. On very rare occasions I used to take only Jackson and Frankie out, but then I stopped doing that because I can feel Holt getting upset (Holt doesn't like being excluded, and at one point Jackson and Frankie even were like "either all of us go or none of us do"). So yeah, the three of them are a trio and they love each other very much. 💛💙❤

Neighthan and Garrott recently started dating. Neighthan definitely had a crush on Garrott first, basically since Garrott came out of the box. But Neighthan didn't want to pursue anything because he knew Garrott was still recovering from losing Rochelle. He figured that Jester would eventually find Garrott another Rochelle and that they would be together. However, as Garrott spent more time with Neighthan of his own accord, Garrott realized that he liked Neighthan too. And after some encouragement from Twyla, Garrott asked Neighthan out to their first date. Navigating their relationship is something very new to them. Neighthan has never really been in a relationship before, Garrott has never dated anyone aside from Rochelle, and Garrott has never dated a man before. But at least for right now, things are going well for them.

G3 Draculaura and Lagoona are girlfriends and have been dating since around December-January-ish. They were crushing on each other before then, but were nervous about dating since they didn't want to risk breaking up their friend group if things went south. Also, I wanna add that my G3 Drac is a lesbian (since that's my headcanon for her TV show counterpart as of today)

G3 Clawdeen and G3 Cleo definitely have feelings for each other, they're not dating just yet. Reason is because Cleo also has a crush on Deuce and isn't sure how she wants to navigate her feelings for both of them. Of course, they could always try being in a polyamorous relationship, but that's new territory for Cleo and she isn't sure if that's what she wants yet.

I don't get to show it much, but Neighthan and Frankie are ride-or-die besties. They spend a lot of time together chatting, exploring the house, etc. Neighthan also finds Frankie to be a very comforting figure he can confide in. Of course Frankie does the same whenever they have worries, they both have each other's backs. But tbh Frankie's life has always been pretty good so most of the time, when they're the one talking, it's just rambling about their day or whatever special interest has captured their attention at the moment.

Oddly enough, Heath is probably the most social out of my dolls. Of course he's close with his cousins, Jackson and Holt. But also he's close friends with Deuce, G3 Draculaura, and Casta Fierce. He's also recently started hitting it off with Alistair Wonderland.

Of course all the G3 Beasties (Frankie, G3 Drac, G3 Clawdeen, Lagoona, Cleo, and Deuce) are all still beasties. ⚡🦇🐺🐠💎🐍

Of course, G1 Draculaura and G1 Clawdeen are besties as well, just like their webisode/movie counterparts. Ever since Clawdeen came home they've been inseparable.

Heath, Deuce, and Jackson/Holt make up what I call the Bro Squad. Also Heath and Jackson/Holt take turns pet-sitting Perseus.

Twyla and Garrott have become pretty close friends. Since they're both more solitary monsters, they like doing solitary activities within the same space (drawing for Garrott, reading for Twyla) and just enjoy each other's company. Twyla also helped Garrott work out his feelings for Neighthan, so there's that too.

Twyla, Jackson, and Alistair are part of their own little book club together.

Frankie finds Alistair interesting. They like to listen to all of Alistair's grand stories of adventure with his previous human. Alistair's just happy to have a captivated audience. Whenever Alistair decides to tell stories, Heath and Twyla usually come listen too.

Since he is the only other doll that speaks Spanish (having originally come from a Spanish speaking household), Alistair and Lagoona have become buddies. They enjoy gossipping together in Spanish and they also get together to watch telenovelas.

Even though they've been getting along a lot better now, Jackson and Holt still have some conflicts with each other. Mainly because Holt's jealous of the sheer amount of favoritism I express towards Jackson. That said, Holt is what I call "the people's favorite" (ie, the one that everyone says is the coolest when they see my collection) and tends to get more time with Frankie Fine while Jackson is out, so it kinda evens out that way.

G1 Draculaura and G1 Clawdeen really don't like Heath, mainly because they find him annoying. :(

[luvpedropascal]

andante, andante (18+)

Pairing: Javier Peña x afab!Reader

Warnings: virgin!reader, age gap, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), kissing

A/N: Virginity is a construct and the reader has been nervous about their virginity for a while! Hopefully through writing Javi I can help more people realize that you don’t have to ‘lose’ all aspects of it in one night. Javi is very sweet and patient so prepare your hearts.

One night, after far too many refilled martinis and a conversation that strayed far from your workplace happenings, you had managed to accidentally blurt out to Javier that you liked him. You didn’t even realize what you had said in the moment — not until there was a small smile pulling at his lips and he was asking, “Let me take you out to dinner than. Tomorrow, maybe?”

Before that first date, you had a grueling crush on him for months. How couldn’t you? He was the older, handsome, polite agent who didn’t just brush you off and send you out for coffee like the others did. The internship you had taken had proven to be quite boring and you weren’t getting half of the experience you were promised, but Javier did his best to let you in on what he could.

Nothing could have prepared you for how sweet and gentle Javier was in your relationship. From the first date, he was the biggest gentleman, never pushing you to do anything, always giving you the space you needed. After a particularly handsy make out session when you told him you didn’t have much experience, if any, he had assured you that the two of you could take it as slow as you needed.

Javier really liked you. He wanted you to feel safe your first time — feel comfortable and cared for. In the past, he’d driven head first into sex, but that was all meaningless sex. With you, he was hooked. He wanted you for as long you’d take him.

He doted on you, completely and wholeheartedly. When you had asked him to come over earlier that night, he had arrived bearing two bags of food from your favorite restaurant in town, as well as a box of the tea you mentioned you wanted to try a few days ago.

You had ended up in Javier’s lap quickly after eating, his hands on your hips warm as he smiled up at you, listening to every word you had to say between soft, stolen kisses. Unlike everything in his life, you were stable — stable in the way you laid in his lap practically every night, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck and subtly reminding him that you were there.

He wanted you bad. Obviously, he wouldn’t act until you were ready, but hearing you squirm in his lap as he kissed you tonight had him overwhelmed. The two of you had done nothing more than what you could call heavy petting, but even the noises you made during that had him losing his mind.

When your hips met his in a slow grind and you whimpered out that soft “Javi” he had to pull back from you to prevent himself from getting too worked up. He didn’t want anyone else to call him by his nickname again, not after hearing the way you called it so sweetly.

“Baby, I think we should slow down,” he breathed out, fingers stroking your arm gently, grounding himself and you. He was flushed, cheeks a little red and breath moving a little quicker — just the sight of him so disheveled made you laugh. Javi had been abstaining all this time with you, so even this could get him worked up.

The sound of your giggle pulled at his heart, like everything you did, and he looked absolutely devastated. “Can we keep going? Just, you know, step by step.. See what happens,” you asked.

Javi took in a breath, thumb stroking your cheek gently as he smiled devilishly, “I can tell you what’ll happen, cariño, but I don’t want to be a tease.”

You laughed softly, swatting at his chest and kissing him again like it was the easiest thing in the world. When you pulled away, your eyes were a little bit darker, more serious.

“I want this, Javi. I mean, if you want it too,” you murmured and he looked almost offended for a split second, “If I want it? Fuck, baby, I want you so bad, you have no idea. But it’s not about me, it’s about you. Do you know what you want? What you’re ready for?”

Your cheeks felt hot all of a sudden and he noticed your pause, “Or we can just pick up where we left off and see what happens. Don’t want you overthinking this, baby.”

Javi’s hands fell back to your hips and he nudged your nose with his own, making you smile again and slotting his lips over yours in a soft, yet hungry kiss. Your hands on his jaw were so warm, fingertips just barely grazing his neck. He felt you part your lips for him, a silent request for him to take the lead, and he happily obliged, the taste of you making him groan softly.

His back was sliding down the couch as your intensity shifted, your hips beginning to rut into his again in that deliciously slow way.

“Fuck, baby,” Javi whispered, kissing your chin first before leading a hot trail of kisses down your neck. Your soft gasps had him growing in his pants fast and when you gripped his shoulders for stability, trying to grind faster, he cursed under his breath again.

Your hands were tugging at the fabric of his shirt and Javi nipped at your collarbone just enough to get another pretty sound out of you.

“Please, can I take this off?” Was what you asked, and he was pulling his thin t-shirt off within seconds. Gently, he laid you down on the couch, smiling down at you when you took a second to wiggle around and find a comfortable position.

The sight of him hovering over you like this, tan skin glowing under the soft light of the lamp across the room and just so broad above you, had you squirming again. He was looking at you with so much affection, like if he didn’t kiss you or feel you soon, he’d light up in flames.

But if this was as far as the two of you would ever go, Javi would die a happy man. Seeing you like this, absolutely radiant beneath him, was all he needed.

“Mi vida,” he murmured, the tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours, “You’re so beautiful.”

He watched your eyes fall to his lips out of shyness before you were wrapping your arms around him again, pulling him into another kiss. You smiled into the kiss when you felt his hands slip under your shirt just a little bit, his fingers warm against your skin. Sitting up, you pulled your shirt up and off, barely breaking the kiss as you did.

Javi groaned out as his head fell to your chest, “So pretty, baby.” His lips traveled all over your chest and stomach, leaving small marks in his favorite spots subconsciously, which left you pretty much covered in love bites. Your hands fell to his hair, playing with it gently as you watched him crawl further down, even worshipping the sides of your hips.

When he looked back up, your heart jumped with how soft his eyes looked. “Can I take these off?” he asked, tugging gently at the hem of your shorts.

You nodded, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes. He pulled your shorts down slowly, giving you time to back out and leaving soft kisses on each new inch of skin exposed. Once they were off, he smiled again, his lips pressed to your inner knee, “Look at you.”

Opening your eyes, you looked down at him a little breathless. Just those kisses to your thighs and hips had you worked up and aching for him. He was taking his time, marking your inner thighs and holding them apart gently when they started to shake a little bit.

“Javi please.. I- Do something, anything. Please, I’m ready,” you whimpered and he looked up at you, his eyes hooked on your lips, which were puffy from all the kissing.

He nodded after a second, “Okay, baby. I’ve got you.”

Still, he was going to take it slow, as to not overwhelm you. He climbed back up to you so he could kiss you, silently thanking you for trusting him, and his hand brushed your thighs, barely ghosting over your clothed center. He could feel the heat radiating off of you when he gently cupped you, pressing his forehead to yours as he started to slowly rub you through the fabric of your underwear.

The softest whimper fell from your lips and you leaned into him more, hands clutching his shoulders. His hand was so big against you, fingers light as he worked you up slowly. You had never been touched like this before and it was starting to drive you crazy quickly. The already damp fabric of your underwear was becoming more and more ruined by the second.

Javi could smell you, and it was driving him crazy. If you let him, he’d taste you tonight — take you apart and put you back together as many times as he could. He looked into your eyes as he asked, “Can I take these off, baby?”

You nodded through a soft whine and his heart swelled as he pulled your underwear down your legs, seeing the way your heat was glistening for him. He cursed under his breath, burying his face in the softness of your stomach before looking back up at you, eyes absolutely devastated , “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, you know that?”

Despite your need for him, you laughed softly, reaching down to stroke his hair again. He leaned into your touch, kissing your palm gently before lacing his fingers through yours, “Can I use my mouth, amor? We can stop whenever you want, you just say the word.”

As much as you were nervous about how you tasted or smelled and whatnot, you needed him more and you knew he’d take care of you, so you nodded gently, “Go ahead.”

Javi found himself between your thighs, spreading them gently with his shoulders and keeping his hand entwined with yours on your stomach. He kissed and nibbled at your thighs again, inching closer to your center. His kisses were open, tongue peaking out and tasting your skin, suckling gently at the sensitive skin at the crease of your hip.

Then he was looking up at you, gauging every reaction as his lips and tongue found their way home. You were so vocal, a mess of whimpers and soft moans as his tongue swirled over your sensitive clit. Your free hand was in his hair, holding him down desperately and begging him for more, even though you could barely think straight.

“Javi- Fuck, that’s so good,” you cried out, letting your head fall back against the pillows.

The taste of you had him moaning against you, mumbling quiet praises to you as you writhed under him. His free hand came up, thumb circling your clit as his tongue dipped to prod at your entrance. He could taste you even better this way and he nearly stopped to take it all in, but he didn’t want to forgo your pleasure.

He gave your hand a squeeze, “You want my fingers, baby?”

You nodded quickly and he chuckled at how eager you were, giving your clit a gentle kiss before letting one finger dip inside you slowly. Immediately, you were trying to buck your hips up, your lip pulled between your teeth as you melted back against the pillows again.

He curled his finger inside of you at the end of each stroke, his tongue finding it’s place against your clit again. One finger became two and soon you were tightening around him, thighs shaking and trying to close around his head as you cried out a little, “M’close.”

Javi didn’t stop for a second, keeping his pace steady, right where you liked it until you were gushing around his fingers, calling his name so sweetly again. Your chest heaved with your orgasm, legs quivering when he finally pulled away with a boyish grin on his lips. He didn’t pull back far, leaving kisses all over your thighs as he whispered, “You taste so fucking good cariño, I thought I was gonna lose it.”

Your eyes were closed, cheek pressed against the velvet of the pillow beside you, the softest smile forming as you came back to reality. When you opened your eyes, Javi was crawling back up to you and kissing you deeply, his big hand cupping face so tenderly. His kiss was hungry, devouring you in the most Javi way possible.

He didn’t expect anything more from you, and you could feel that in the way his lips weren’t asking you for more, just drinking you in and enjoying this moment with you. But you could feel the swell of him against your thigh, straining in his pants, and you wanted to make him feel just as good he made you feel.

“Javi,” you muttered between kisses, “Let me make you feel good..”

His forehead found yours and he stopped for a second, taking a deep breath, “You don’t have to, baby.”

“I want to,” you whispered, kissing his full lower lip chastely, “Just need you to show me how.”

Javi was almost embarrassed by how much your words turned him on. You couldn’t help it, but the way you asked him to show you — to guide you, had him throbbing against the seam of his pants.

He gave you a small nod, smiling almost shyly as he sat up. You followed him, sinking to your knees by the edge of the couch and asking, “Can I use my mouth?”

Brain backfiring for just a second, Javi took in the sight of you like this, on your knees for him and asking if you could suck him off.

“Fuck- Come up here, cielito. I’ll show you how,” he groaned, laying down flat in the couch and spreading his legs to make room for you. Underneath you, he was the most disheveled you’d ever seen him — all messy curls and kiss bitten lips — and you loved it.

Your hands settled on his belt buckle and looked up at him for approval, giggling when you saw him smiling up at you like a dork.

“Look at you, trying to get into my pants already,” Javi chuckled, reaching up to the cup the back of your neck and bring you in for a soft kiss, “Go ahead.”

Leaning back, you undid his pants and started to pull them down along with his boxers. He hissed a little bit, his cock painfully hard when it slapped up against the softness of his lower stomach. You laid down between his thighs, nuzzling them gently and pressing a soft kiss to every freckle you could find while you waited for Javi’s instruction.

He sat up a little bit, just to see you better, and brushed a hand over your hair, “Do whatever feels right, baby, and I’ll tell you what feels good, okay?”

You nodded, just a little dazed from all of this, and led your kisses closer to his cock. Lips hot and open now, you let your tongue trace the line of his hip bone, looking up at him to see his reactions.

The softness of your actions made Javi’s heart ache; he never thought he could want someone so bad, in so many different ways. For the first time in his life, he was desperately fighting the urge blurt out an “I love you.” But he knew he couldn’t — not now at least. Not when all of this was already so new to you.

Your lips found his cock and you kissed up from the base slowly, your lips so warm and soft that just that had Javi gripping the couch beneath him. He wanted to close his eyes, but he wouldn’t dare miss this, at least not the first time.

When you reach his tip, your lips parted and you took him in, suckling on him lightly and drawing a low moan from Javi. He pushed your hair out of your eyes gently, letting you continue however you saw fit and groaning quietly, “That’s it, querida.”

You moaned around him, enjoying the weight of him on your tongue and starting to bob your head along about half of him. Your pacing was a little awkward, so he cupped your head again, gently guiding your rhythm.

Feeling and seeing Javi crumble beneath you was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Your usually composed boyfriend had been reduced to gasped moans and was clutching the couch so hard his knuckles were close to turning white.

Deciding to take him a little deeper, you gagged from the sheer size of him and Javi beckoned you back up to how you had him before, “I don’t want you choking, baby. Take your time.”

His words made your cheeks heat up and you hummed against him, deciding to bring your hand up to stroke what you couldn’t take in your mouth. Javi was right — the two of your were learning what made the other feel good, so there was no reason to rush. Coming up for air, you took a breath before swirling your tongue around his tip, letting your hand stroke him slow and tight.

“That’s- Fuck, baby that’s so good, don’t stop. B-Breathe through your nose,” Javi whined.

You didn’t change the pace at all, following his directions and looking up at him through your lashes to watch him fall apart with each second. When your eyes met his, Javi twitched against your tongue and threw his head back for a second, mumbling something about how close he was. All it took was a few more strokes and he was falling over the edge, holding his hips back from bucking into your mouth.

He didn’t expect you to swallow, but when he felt you suckling every drop from him, he nearly came again just at the thought. Vision coming back to him, he reached for you, using his remaining strength to pull you up to him, kissing you with more passion than you’d ever felt from him. His tongue dipped between your lips, tasting himself on your tongue and groaning again.

Every press of his lips to yours was a thank you, a promise; even an “I love you” that he wouldn’t dare utter yet. He kissed down from your lips, tracing the lines of your face with his lips. Smiling under his affection, you muttered a soft ‘thank you’. A smile pulled at his lips immediately and he kissed you again, pulling you closer to lay down on top of him.

You wanted him again. You knew you were going to want him constantly now. After tonight, going all the way didn’t seem so scary anymore, and you knew if you did, Javi would make it absolutely perfect.

The heat was pooling between your legs and the warmth of Javi under you was only stirring you on. You nosed at his neck, finding the scent of his cologne there waiting for you, like it always did. When your lips found that sweet spot on his neck, he sighed under you, running his fingers down the line of your back.

But maybe this was enough for tonight. If the sound of Javi’s slow breathing under you told you anything, it was that he didn’t mind taking things slow with you. He wasn’t going anywhere and you could go all the way with him another night. The two of you were going at your own pace, and nothing else mattered.

-

[shycoconutt]

I Need You (Kakashi x Reader Smut)

A/n: Oh boy do I got some smutty smut for you. This is my first time writing smut and I think I did okay! Please let me know what you think and, as always, feel free to send some requests my way! 🤍

Summary: You find yourself unbelievably horny waiting for Kakashi to get home from work. The night goes exactly as planned.

Word Count: 4200

Warnings: NSFW ( minors, there's the door -> 🚪), fem!reader, vaginal sex, rough sex, doggy style, cunnilingus

Gods, why am I so horny?

Sat in the reading chair in the corner of your and Kakashi’s bedroom, you find yourself unable to focus on the new novel you picked up at the bookstore this morning. Each time you try to focus on the words in front of you, your eyes start to drift off the page and fall on your bed across the room. The bed where Kakashi and you have had sex now maybe a dozen times. You two have been platonic partners for years, but it wasn’t until recently where you both allowed your feelings to blossom into romance. Some would say that your relationship with Kakashi came on fast, but those who say that don’t truly know either of you.

After the war, and after keeping your feelings for each other bottled down for years, Kakashi took you on a vacation to a quaint village on the outskirts of Konoha. During your stay, you two could finally relax and find comfort in each other. The future seemed less uncertain, and you allowed yourself to open up in ways you never had before. You both knew you loved each other, that you were meant for each other, but the stress of war and the lack of knowledge that either of you would come out alive prevented anything from happening. The last thing either of you wanted to do was take the other’s heart six feet under.

It was the third night on the trip when he proposed to you. Kakashi and you were naked together in the natural hot spring, embracing each other in the water. The words he spoke to you that night are etched in your brain, never to be forgotten.

“My whole life I’ve been fighting; fighting for Konoha, fighting for my team, fighting for our friends, fighting my demons, fighting the truth, and fighting the feelings I have for you. I never understood why it was so hard to escape you, but it isn’t until now where I finally understand. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. Our love is so natural, so pure. It pains me to know that our reality has muddled it for so long. You are the best thing that’s ever come into my life, and the gods only know how thankful I am that you have been by my side through it all. Everything I’ve ever gone through, every challenge I’ve had to overcome, you’ve guided me along the way. I used to think I was undeserving of your love, but now that we both are standing here, bruised and battered by our past, I realize that it was always supposed to be this way. You and me. Forever.”

That was the night you and Kakashi shared your first kiss. The night you first held each other in a naked embrace. The night you touched the skin normally concealed under each other's clothes. The night you trailed kisses down his chest, to his stomach, his hip, and up his shaft. The night you grabbed him in your hand and stroked him while looking into his eyes. The night you felt his tongue draw across your nipples. The night you felt him suck and nibble at your neck. The night you felt his fingers, god his fingers, trace up your wet heat to rub onto your most sensitive spot. The night he held onto your hip and slid into your tenderness. The night you whispered sweet nothings in each other's ears while he pumped into you. The night you made love, four times.

It’s been a week since your mini-vacation of ultimate bliss. Immediately after arriving back to the village, you both moved out of your individual apartments and moved into the Hatake estate, per Kakashi’s request. When you asked him if this is truly what he wanted, he assured you that this was the place he wanted to make a home with you and your future children. He also liked that the estate is largely removed from the Hokage tower, where he will be spending the majority of his time in the future. Renovations are far from over, but your bedroom was the first area of the house to be set up. It’s your shared sanctuary, and to be completely honest, you’ve never felt more at home.

The only word to describe this week between you and Kakashi is passionate. Even with opposite schedules, you both make time for one another every day. You’ve been insanely busy at your new job that you acquired post-war, spearheading the mental health resource center for war veterans and shinobi still in active duty. Kakashi is busy shadowing Tsunade while she sorts out post-war rehabilitation plans for the village. This is your first day off and, unfortunately, Kakashi is out doing future Hokage duties. Though frustrating, both of you are super understanding of each other's roles in this village and you respect that time with each other may be limited in the coming years. That’s why any chance you get, you both check in on each other throughout your day. Whether it’s offering to take his ninken on a walk while he’s in the office, or him bringing you breakfast when you get to work, you find opportunities to be present in each other’s daily lives.

The evenings, however, are a whole other story. Both of you are usually home a little after eight, and you’ve adapted to having late dinners with each other. After cleaning up, the rest of the evening is spent wrapped up in each other. One thing you weren’t expecting about being with Kakashi is that he is constantly touching you when you are alone together. His hands are either on your thighs, wrapped in your hair, caressing your face, squeezing your arms, massaging your shoulders, touching your lips, or any other way he can get them on you. You crave his touch, so to say that you enjoy this side of him is an understatement. Not only does Kakashi adore touching you, he also adores being touched.

Touching leads to caressing, caressing leads to groping, and groping leads to passionate lovemaking.

Well, geez (y/n), maybe if you stopped daydreaming about Kakashi’s hands all over you then you wouldn’t be this goddamn horny.

Here’s the thing with you and Kakashi’s newfound sex life. You are in the early stages. All the sex you have is all about romance, making up for the lost time, and finally expressing your feelings with your body. It’s amazing and you wouldn’t change your lovemaking for the world.

But right now, you don’t desire lovemaking. You desire rough, animalistic, dirty, dirty sex.

The kind of sex that makes you shudder in desire and fear.

The kind of sex that makes in between your legs sore the next day.

Realizing you’ve been daydreaming for the past fifteen minutes, you close your novel shut and toss it aside. You look over at the clock on your nightstand to find that it’s almost time for Kakashi to be home. Usually, you would already be cooking something up for dinner, but you have a feeling that any food you make would just get cold. Eating is not your priority right now, Kakashi is.

A devious smile forms at your lips when you consider what you plan on doing with him when he walks through the front door. Should you take him right there? Get down on your knees and beg for him? Run a warm, candle-lit bath? Put whip cream on your tits and tell him that you’re his dinner? All great options, but none are really representative of how much you need him.

In one swift movement, you are up off your chair and running towards your closet. He could be here any minute and there’s no time to waste. Once there, you take in how disorganized your closet is. You have yet to unpack any of your clothes, as all you’ve worn the past week is your jonin uniform and your pajamas. Rummaging through the boxes sprawled out on the floor, you finally find which box you are looking for. The box looks like any other box, but written on the side in marker is the word intimates.

Bingo.

One might think you are a sex fiend with all the lingerie you own, but that is far from reality. The truth is, lingerie has always made you feel sexy. Most of all, it’s just so pretty. You love the power it gives you. You love the fact that no one knows that some days you are wearing the world’s skimpiest lingerie underneath your uniform. It’s like you have an edge on someone that they don't even realize. Also, when you did happen to end up in bed with a man, you were over-prepared. The look on their faces when you stripped off your clothes was priceless. It was your way of telling them that you expected them to want you.

There are way too many options to choose from, and you find yourself starting to panic as time passes on. You know you’re overthinking this as, honestly, Kakashi would love anything you put on. Some things you know about Kakashi are that his favorite color is blue, he loves your thighs and is obsessed with how soft your skin is. Therefore, you should obviously go for the baby blue lace and silk set. It includes a lace balconette bra, a thong connected to thigh garters, and a silk robe to go over the top. After putting it on and taking a look at yourself in the mirror, you knew you made the right choice.

Before finding a comfortable spot on the bed, you quickly grab some baby oil and rub it all over your body. The oil will allow Kakashi to slide his hands all over you effortlessly, which is exactly what you need. Satisfied, you grab your book and lay on top of your made bed. You weren’t planning on actually reading, but you think your casualness while wearing such a sexy outfit will have Kakashi’s head spinning.

So there you were, belly down, ass out, feet intertwined, book in hand, when you heard the lock click and the front door open. Perfect timing.

You could hear Kakashi kick off his shoes and take off his vest as he walked into your home. Usually, you would be standing in the kitchen where he would come and give you a warm embrace and kiss you until you told him that he has to eat dinner. But, you're not there, and you can sense his confusion.

“Where’s my babygirl?” Kakashi’s voice projects throughout the house, a hint of concern in his voice. You smile at the thought of the pout that’s probably on his face right now.

“Sorry sweetheart, I’ve been caught up in my new book. I’m in the bedroom,” you call back to him.

You hear what sounds like a sigh of relief as his footsteps make their way down your hallway in the direction of your bedroom, the sounds of pieces of his uniform dropping off of him every few steps. You make sure to keep your head turned to the door so you can take in his reaction to your state.

“Oh, the new book you got this morning? How is it? Let me guess, you already finished-”

An indescribable feeling shoots through your whole body as Kakashi enters your bedroom. He just finished pulling his mask down his face, as his hand is still caught to the fabric pooling around his neck. With a smile on your face, you soak in his expression as he’s stood in the entrance of your room, a deep blush forming on his cheeks and his mouth still agape in mid-sentence. His eyes dart back and forth from your face to the bottom of your ass that’s hanging out of your silk robe.

Damn, you really did that (y/n).

“What’s wrong, Kashi?” You say in the most innocent voice you can muster. You bat your eyelashes and flip over to sit up so he can get a good look at you. You let your book drop off the bed and land on the floor.

There’s another pause before Kakashi slowly walks towards you on the bed. Without speaking, he reaches a hand out to you. You take it and he pulls you up so you're kneeling on the bed as he stands in front of you. His dark eyes bore into yours as both of his hands drop to your thighs. Slowly, he grazes them up over your hips, your waist, up the sides of your breasts, to wrap around the back of your neck. You can feel the hairs on your skin stand in anticipation. With his hands still wrapped around you, he brings his head down to you and grazes his mouth on your jawline. From there he plants small kisses up the side of your face until he reaches your ear where he nibbles before speaking to you in a strained, low tone.

“You’re a very dangerous woman, (y/n).”

He must have felt you shudder because you could feel him smile against your cheek. Standing up straight again, Kakashi’s hands drop to the tie of your robe around your waist.

“May I?” he asks, giving you the sexiest look you’ve ever seen. Kakashi has been so effortlessly attractive since you met when you were young. Having these intimate moments with him almost seems surreal.

“Of course, Hatake,” you smile up at him.

Taking the tie in his hands, he starts to unravel the knot keeping your robe together. Once loose, he lets it fall over your shoulders and off your body completely.

After a few moments taking in the sight of you, Kakashi lets out a deep sigh and shakes his head.

“You’re so out of my league,” he confesses to you.

You let out a small giggle.

“Absolutely not,” you protest.

Without missing a beat, Kakashi grabs on to you and tosses you back on the bed so you are laying down underneath him. One of his hands wraps around the back of your head while the other cups your breast. Pulling the fabric of your bra down, he kneads your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. One of his knees lands in between your legs and he brings it up to press on to you. You can’t help the moan that escapes as you feel him all around you.

“So what’s the deal?” Kakashi teases. “I leave you alone in the house for one day and I come back to this?” He looks down at your body and back up again. “Where did you get this outfit, hm?”

“Oh baby,” you start teasing him back, “I guess one thing you don’t know about me yet is that I wear lingerie like this all the time.”

“Oh really?” he questions.

“Yep, all the time.” You smirk at what you’re about to say next. “Actually, remember that one time we were stationed together in the Earth country for a month for that S-rank assassination mission?”

Kakashi nods, confused where you’re going with this story.

“We let our guards down and almost hooked up the last night before we came back to the village.”

“I remember.”

“Well,” you pause for effect, “guess what I was wearing underneath my uniform that night?”

Kakashi remains silent, brows furrowed waiting for you. You smile at him deviously as you say your answer.

“This.”

Kakashi lets out what can only be described as an aroused, defeated groan when you utter your confession. He quickly comes back down and your mouths crash together in a heated frenzy. It isn’t until now when you realize that his bulge is hard against your leg, asking to be broken free from the confinement of his pants. While making out, you reach down and slip your hand under his waistband and grab onto his throbbing cock, stroking it in your hand. Although rock hard, the skin of his cock is soft and velvety.

Kakashi moans in your mouth when you make contact with him, but quickly escapes your grasp and gets up off of you. Sprawled out on the bed, you watch him strip down naked in front of you, starting with his shirt, then his pants and briefs. His body is truly something to marvel at, as decades of being a ninja have carved his body into perfection. You love the way his member slaps against his lower stomach when he pulls it from its confinement, excited and eager for you. He stands for a moment, contemplating what to do with you.

“I don’t want to take that pretty outfit off of you just yet. I guess I’ll just have to work around it for now,” Kakashi says as he stands at the end of the bed. Grabbing your ankles, he pulls you towards him and bends your legs upward until your knees meet your chest. Holding both of your legs up with one hand, he takes the other and spanks your ass cheek with a loud slap. You whimper from the sting while he rubs the mark he left. Kakashi sucks in another loud breath.

“Ugh, (y/n), you look so good for me.”

Before you can respond, Kakashi takes your thong and slides it over so you are exposed to him. Getting down on his knees, he brings his face to your glistening cunt and flattens his tongue against it. There he gives you one long lick up your slit to taste you. A moan erupts from him as your wetness meets his taste buds.

“You’re already so wet for me baby,” Kakashi breathes before going in to suck on you.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you confess through your moans. “I only get this wet for you.”

“That’s because you're mine and mine only.”

Kakashi takes his time with you, almost as if this is his last meal on earth and he wants to savor it. He’s delicate in some moments and fierce in others. Incorporating his fingers, he slides them into you and curves them up to hit your g-spot repeatedly while eating you. Your hand instinctively cradles his face while the other intertwines with his silver locks. You start to feel tightness in your lower stomach as he brings you close to climax. The sound of his moans muffled inside you is enough to send you over the edge.

“Kakashi, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Come for me, baby,” Kakashi nods, giving you permission to let go.

Letting go of Kakashi, you grip onto the sheets around you, feeling the tightness build and drop out of you. Closing your eyes, the waves of ecstasy ripple throughout your body causing you to scream out in pleasure. Riding with you, Kakashi slowly continues to work you through your climax, cleaning up whatever juices spill over.

“Good girl,” He says to you while bringing your legs back down onto the bed. Slowly, he kisses up your thighs while hooking onto your thong, bringing it down off of them. While he does this, you reach around and unclasp your bra, throwing it aside. Once the thong is thrown aside as well, Kakashi lifts himself off the floor and flips you over so you're laying on your stomach, another smack landing on your ass cheek. The high from your orgasm is immediately replaced with anticipation for what he plans on doing to you next.

You feel Kakashi’s naked body slide on top of you until he's flush against your skin, his body completely enveloping yours. Once his face is level with yours, and his cock is hard against your backside, he brushes your hair away from your face.

“Are you ready for me?” Kakashi whispers into your ear.

You nod into the mattress, chest rising and falling with every strained breath.

“You need to use your words, (y/n),” Kakashi scolds you while tucking your hair behind your ear.

“I need you, Kakashi. Please, I need you.” Your words come out as a plea, not being able to take his absence any longer.

You feel Kakashi’s weight lift off of you as he reaches around your waist and lifts it up so your ass is tilted upwards. From there you can feel him position his tip at your entrance, slowly rubbing it up and down to spread your wetness.

“Please, Kashi, I need your cock inside me,” you beg.

Without further hesitation, you feel every inch of him slide into your folds until he’s bottomed out inside you. The feeling of him deep within you sends you into euphoria and you can feel yourself tighten around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Kakashi whispers.

Starting off slow, he pumps into you with control. You feel pleasure and pain as Kakashi kisses your neck while grabbing onto your hair. After each thrust you feel him going faster and harder, your bodies smacking against each other. To gain more leverage, he lifts off of you and brings you up onto your hands and knees. With his hand gripping your shoulder, he pumps into you with ferocity.

“For years I’ve touched myself thinking about getting to fuck you like this baby. You’re so beautiful and so good to me. Everything about your body draws me to you,” Kakashi says in between moans. You feel him start to twitch inside you, his thrusts getting more out of control. You look over your shoulder and meet his gaze.

“We deserve this baby. You deserve this. Give me everything.” You both know your words mean more than just sex, and Kakashi relishes them.

Lifting you up by your neck, Kakashi brings you toward him so you're both kneeling while he continues thrusting inside of you. He brings one hand around your front to circle your clit and the other cups your breast. Your hands lift up behind you to grab onto his face. Turning your head to him, you kiss him with every ounce of passion you have left. This new position is hitting you at your core and you can feel yourself tighten again. Kakashi must have felt it too, as he broke free from your mouth to tilt his head back in pleasure. Without exchanging words, you know you both are at your limit.

With a few last staggering thrusts, both of you reach climax in unison. Feeling yourself go limp, Kakashi wraps his arms around you to keep you steady. You feel streams of his hot semen pool inside of your contracting walls. With Kakashi’s moans singing in your ear, you can’t help but smirk at his vulnerability. With him still inside, you hold onto each other, trying to catch your breaths. After a few beats, you both begin to laugh at your exasperated states.

“Stay here, I’m going to get a towel,” Kakashi says while shifting out of you. After pulling a towel from the cupboard in your bathroom, Kakashi brings it to you and cleans up between your legs. Before you have time to move, Kakashi picks you up bridal style and spins you around in his arms.

You scream and start to laugh as he plants kisses all over your face. “Kakashi!”

“Hm?” he hums in your ear, pretending he didn’t just lift you with little to no effort.

Holding you up with one arm, he grabs a blanket off the bed and carries you to the chair in the corner of your room. There he sits down and places you sideways on his lap so you’re facing each other. He then takes the blanket and wraps it around you both so you can stay warm while cuddling each other. Kakashi has always had a knack for knowing exactly what you want at any given moment.

“I thought we could get some inspiration for our next round,” Kakashi says with a smirk as he pulls out a copy of Icha Icha Tactics from underneath the cushion.

“What? How did that get there?” you laugh.

“Oh, I have multiple copies of these everywhere,” he jokes, waving the book in the air.

You laugh and lightly hit his chest. Tucking the blanket up closer to your face, you lay your head down on Kakashi’s shoulder while he flips open to a page in the book.

Before he starts to read to you, Kakashi lifts your chin to kiss you. Every time your lips touch his, flashes of your joint past enters your mind. Although it was hard, and you faced many difficult trials on the way, you are forever thankful that you were both able to live long enough to experience these moments. You took care of each other, lifted each other up when they were in the dirt, and now you can finally share the love you’ve always held for each other. You wouldn’t change any of it. After your kiss, before pulling away from you, Kakashi looks deep into your eyes.

“I love you, (y/n).”

You smile up at him, tears brimming in your eyes.

“I love you too, Kakashi. Forever.”

-

A/n cont.: Well, whattdaya think? :)

[phantomrose96]

Fenton Fact

Danny leaned back against the red brick chimney of the Casper High roof, and he looked across the stretch of land rolling far off from the building top. For a place so off-limits, so hidden-away from the normal bustle of the school, the view really wasn’t anything special. Sure, the school was decently tall, but it overlooked the staff parking lot, and the empty Casper High tennis courts, and the back of a strip mall two blocks over with the recently-haunted laundromat.

Not that it mattered. It took more than tall-building-views to impress Danny anyway, even the nice ones. And he wasn’t up here for the view.

Danny let his eyes drift shut.

“Sup loner, room for one more?”

Danny startled, and it wasn’t Sam’s voice specifically that startled him. (He’d grown used to her bursting from his Fenton Phone earpiece during most nightly patrols.) He’d just lulled himself a bit too comfortably into the idea that no other human could follow him to the top of the locked rooftop of the Casper High building.

“Did I just surprise a ghost?” Sam asked. “Should I do it again with a ‘boo’?”

“Haha,” Danny answered with a fake chuckle. He blinked himself back to prickly awareness, drowsiness batted away like dust bunnies, and stared up at Sam. “I’m not surprised. I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be on the roof. How did you even—”

Sam was a few steps ahead of him. In explanation, she waggled the Fenton-branded grappling hook gripped in hand.

Danny leaned back with a faux-exasperated sigh. “Since when do you even have a grappling hook?”

“Since I told your mom it would be a wildly cool line of gear to add to the Fenton brand.”

“Does this mean my mom now has a grappling hook too?”

“Yes. And your dad. And Jazz. And Tucker.”

“Great. When I go home and all the ceiling fans are torn down I’ll know why.”

A gentle silence lapsed over them, punctuated with the swell of fall wind.

“So…” Sam continued. “Can I sit here?”

“Huh?” Danny looked at her, anchoring his drifting thoughts once more. “Oh, yeah. I thought the ‘yeah’ was implied.” Danny shuffled a bit to the side, back still resting against the chimney. He patted the spot he cleared. “What am I gonna tell you? No?”

“Just making sure.” Sam stowed the grappling hook to the side of her belt and settled into the spot beside Danny, feet outstretched. “In case maybe you wanted some alone time.”

“’Alone time’ isn’t really something I get anymore. I’ve had about a hundred-too-many ghosts crash through my bedroom for that.”

“So why the roof?”

“Roof is more for uh…” Danny twirled his hand, “‘less adoring crowds’ time. ‘Less classmates ogling me’ time. You can stay so long as you don’t ask me to sign anything.”

“I was never interested in the parasocial or capitalistic value of celebrity signatures. Besides, you cross your ‘t’s weird.”

Danny replied with a half-hearted chuckle. His line of sight drifted into the middle-distance again, unfocused.

“Is it getting to be too much?” Sam asked.

“Hmm?” Danny answered, eyes shifting back to her.

Sam gestured broadly, hands and arms outstretched. “You know just. All this. Everything.”

“…Nah.”

Another small silence grew from the cracks in the concrete between them.

“Paulina and Star are looking for you. You know that, right?”

“Oh, are they?”

“Danny. You knew that.”

“Maybe.”

“…And you’re not interested in seeing what they want?”

“I figure Tucker is keeping them busy.”

“You’re unfortunately right.”

“Phantom Phacts?”

“Phantom Phacts.” Sam nodded. “I made him promise to leave out any embarrassing trivia from the trivia section.”

“Thanks for that,” Danny answered. “Is his presentation any good?”

“You think I’ve ever stuck around to hear it?”

“Fair.”

Sam pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs and set her chin to her knees, staring forward.

“You’re really not interested in sitting with Star and Paulina for lunch?”

“Not really. Why? Is that bad?”

“No, it’s absolutely great. But I’m…” Sam shrugged, “surprised, I guess. I feel like usually you’d jump at the opportunity. And I kinda don’t think you’re refusing because you’ve suddenly recognized the banality of A-lister status.”

“Maybe that is what happened, you don’t know that. Down with capitalism, Sam.”

“Danny.” Sam tilted a fraction to face him. “I’m worried that this is all too much for you, and you just won’t admit it.”

Danny sat with the silence that followed. “I don’t think it’s too much. I’m just—I dunno. I mean. I’m just not feeling it.”

“…You can admit if it’s overwhelming, Danny. I’ll be the first to shut down ‘Phantom Phacts’ if it is.”

“Nah, nah let Tucker have his fun. He’s not the problem. It’s… I dunno.” Danny pushed himself taller against the chimney, upright now and unslumped. “It’s a little bit overwhelming, I guess, maybe. But it’s kind of what I expected. Maybe even a little easier than I was expecting. I thought I’d be dealing with a lot of Phantom-hate once everyone knew but, I guess that kind of died down a long time before everyone knew.”

“Valerie holding you at gunpoint in the cafeteria wasn’t Phantom-hate?”

“We’ve had a lot of good talks since then, okay?”

Sam let out a quiet laugh. “So then… why aren’t you sitting with the popular kids right now?”

“I just didn’t want to, I guess?”

“And why didn’t you want to?”

“It just didn’t really feel right.”

“Is it because of me?” Sam asked, another side-long glance cast to Danny. “Because you can sit with them. I’ll still make fun of you if you do, but you don’t have to… not sit with them because of me.”

“What? Huh—no. Nah, nah I mean I do care what you think Sam. But I mean if I wanted to be sitting with them then I would so. I mean. You don’t have to worry that it’s you.”

“So then what is it?”

Danny took a moment to answer.

“It’s just… it’s a feeling. I dunno. Like.” Danny spread his arms out. “The invitation is wrong? Or the invitation isn’t actually for me?”

“…The invitation is for Phantom instead?”

Pensive indecision set into Danny’s eyes. “That’s not totally it. Because I mean I AM Phantom. I’m not not me when I’m Phantom. Maybe I trash-talk a little more in ghost form but I’m not… not me. That’s still just me. You know that.”

“Right, yeah, no Danny. It just sounded like that’s what you were saying.” Sam let her legs slide out a few inches. “So what are you saying?”

Danny sat with the question. “When the news first picked up on Phantom, way back when—Inviso-Bill?—that wasn’t really anyone, you know? They made up some spooky icon to make the news about. Which was just like, whatever, not me. I didn’t even take ‘Inviso-Bill’ too personally because that just wasn’t me. And even when I stopped being an enemy and started actually being ‘Danny Phantom’… no one actually got it right, you know? They kind of came up with a character for me. Just some hero. I listen to the news and how they talk about me and I think, even now, I think ‘That isn’t me.’”

Danny pulled his knees in, a mirror to Sam, and stared down into his tattered jean fabric. “And when everyone learned I’m Phantom I guess I kind of expected them to be like ‘Oh it’s Fenton’ and then that fake version of Phantom would go away.” Danny raised his eyes to Sam, far more bothered than before. “…I think the opposite happened. They don’t look at Phantom and think ‘oh it’s Fenton’. They look at Fenton and think ‘oh it’s Phantom.’ I think Danny Fenton got put away. I think the person I was for 14 years doesn’t exist to them anymore. Whoever they invited to lunch isn’t me. He doesn’t exist. But I’m suddenly responsible for him. And it’s not even me.”

Danny paused. “And now I’ve been wondering like… how long until I disappoint them? You know? How long until I do something that makes them angry because I’m not doing the thing they expect ‘Phantom’ to do? How long until they start seeing there’s too much ‘Fenton’ in me and they start to hate me for it all over again? For them to really like me, I don’t think I can be me, and I don’t know how to do that. I don’t know how to be someone who doesn’t just disappoint everyone in the end.”

A long gust of wind swept between them, stealing away the seconds.

“…So now you’re hiding on the roof.”

“It was the easiest solution to my problem.”

“But not a lasting one, if you ever want to get down.” The wind settled, and Sam swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “…Do you care if you disappoint them?”

Danny shrugged. “I. Yeah. I think. I don’t—I don’t think I totally know for certain, but I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“Well, you’re not going to disappoint me, or Jazz, or Tucker—and if Tucker does act disappointed over any lost Phantom Phacts ventures I’ll whap him over the head. But I mean, we know who you are. We’re not going to be disappointed realizing you’re not ‘Phantom.’ The worst you can do is land right back where you started.”

“And what if I started acting like ‘Phantom’ instead. Would that disappoint you guys?”

“Do you want to act like ‘Phantom’?”

Danny paused. “…No. Not at all.”

“Then don’t. It’s that simple.” Sam stood, and she stretched until her back popped. “It’s not your responsibility to uphold whatever delusions people project onto you. I won’t hesitate to call them out on it. You know I’m good at being direct, and you know I’m even better at making enemies.”

“I don’t wanna be mean to them though when they’re finally being nice.”

“They’re not being nice, they’re projecting. If their niceness to you is conditional on you fitting to the box they created for you, that’s not nice, that’s manipulation, and it’s exactly the root of my ever-frothing disdain for popularity. It’s always some element about popular people that people latch on to, and they can fit the box that people give them, or they can reject it and find themselves wallowing amongst us outcasts. Don’t do that to yourself, Danny. Don’t live in their chains.” Sam tilted her head to Danny. “You spend all day trapping ghosts into tight little boxes and you can’t even recognize when it’s happening to you. I think you’d be better at spotting this.”

“It’s a cylinder, really. The thermos. It’s a cylinder. And don’t say ‘box’ so much. You might summon company.”

“You just said ‘box’ though.”

“I did say ‘box’.”

“Box.”

“Box.”

Sam laughed, noise trailing light on her lips. “…Feeling any better?”

“A little, I think… I still… I still think I... it's not as easy to just say 'I don't care if I disappoint them.' It's still scary. I don’t want to end up proving them right that they were right to hate me all along.”

“Are the opinions of Dash Baxter really the ones to be holding on a pedestal? Is his opinion of you really more important than what you think of yourself? You’ve been through this with the A-listers already. Don’t torture yourself again just because the door is wide open. I promise you Danny, it won’t make you happy.”

“So I should just do whatever makes me happy?”

“Every time.” Sam nodded.

"Even if I'm a total disappointing loser?"

"All the better."

"Even if I blow any chance I have with Paulina out the window?"

“Wouldn't have it any other way. Got any idea what you intend to say to her when she finds you?”

Danny paused. He pushed himself standing. “Maybe I could talk her ear off about NASA until she gets bored of me?”

“Excellent. Can I join? I have a lot to say about SpaceX and private capital encroaching on space exploration.”

“Does that apply to me? I’ve been to space. Am I private capital?”

“You’re not private capital.”

“Then what am I?”

“Annoying.” Sam locked arms with Danny, and dragged him along forward, her combat boots clunking against the rooftop. “And my friend. Come on. I’ll brief you on everything wrong with privately-owned space exploration while we’re rappelling down the side of the building with my sick and cool as hell grappling hook.”

“I can fly.”

“And I have a sick grappling hook. What’s your point.”

“It’s probably called a ‘Fenton Hook.’”

“Is that a Phantom Phact?”

Danny shook his head, and a smile pulled on his lips. “Nah. I think it’s a Fenton Fact.”

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰

***

I've always loved the rain.

And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.

The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.

I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.

It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.

And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.

Like I said, blessing in disguise.

After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.

Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.

That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.

I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.

The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"

I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"

"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"

"A beer?"

"You got it."

I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.

One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.

Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.

Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.

Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.

And I had just the plan.

I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.

"Hey, could I get another?"

***

"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."

"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."

I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."

I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.

But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.

One hour...

One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"

It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.

Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.

And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.

One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.

I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.

"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.

"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...

He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.

Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.

As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."

His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.

Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?

But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"

"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.

"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"

I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.

She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."

She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.

What the fu—

"Who're you talking with?"

Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.

"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.

I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.

The man was right to be suspicious.

"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."

Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."

And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."

While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.

It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.

If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.

The thought made me all warm again.

"Y—You didn't have to do—"

She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."

"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."

I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"

She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?

"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...

A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"

"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."

With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"

The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."

See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."

I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.

"So, Spencer, what do you do?"

I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"

"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."

"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."

I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?

Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.

"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."

This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."

Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.

"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."

Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."

***

I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.

I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...

Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.

And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.

Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.

After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.

Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.

"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.

He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.

The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.

And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.

I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.

"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.

Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."

It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."

Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."

I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.

And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.

Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.

"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."

He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.

Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.

Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.

So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"

His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."

"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.

"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."

God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."

"Re—really?"

"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"

"Of course..."

"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"

"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.

"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"

He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."

"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."

Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.

And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.

I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.

He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."

I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."

The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.

"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"

I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.

So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.

"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.

"Uh huh," he breathed in response.

I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."

With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."

He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.

"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"

"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."

I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"

Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.

I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.

Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.

I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."

Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.

"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."

I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.

Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.

I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.

"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor."

We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.

That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.

But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.

"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.

He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"

"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."

He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"

"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."

He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."

My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"

Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."

As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.

Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.

***

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[paintedpeeta]

your most gentlest easiest headcanons? 💛

this has been in my ask box for a lil while, but i was missing everlark and now i’m doing a reread (i forgot how heavy these books were like whew…for YA fiction it is a LOT) so i hope you don’t mind that it’s taken me so long to answer ❤️

first of all, a little moment that stuck out for me in the first book was katniss saying she often has mint tea after dinner at home. it’s such a small, domestic part of a routine but one i like to think she carries on after the war - and one that peeta adopts too. they share the cooking duties when it comes to dinner, but she always makes the tea. she learns how to make his perfect cup, as well as she can make her own, and the dishes from dinner will wait (until he caves and does them before they go to bed) as they almost always wind up snuggled up on the couch together while they drink it.

they both like to watch the other sleep. not in a creepy way, just after one of them has woken from a nightmare or just can’t doze off - seeing the other sleeping peacefully in the safety of their home is enough to calm the nerves and help them relax. if they’re ever caught in their observations, the other usually just pulls them down beside them to urge them to sleep. (peeta is a little more prone to teasing her when she gets caught, but she has her moments of making fun of him too just for good measure).

he likes to heat her slippers by the fire for her. and her socks. and sometimes her pyjamas. although katniss is so pragmatic and capable, she does seem to enjoy simple comforts throughout the series. nothing too crazy, and i think it would still take some time for her to feel like she deserved any little bits of luxury but that’s where peeta comes in. because he wants to pamper her and take care of her, and in the grand scheme of things is it really too indulgent to let him warm up her bath towels before she uses them, or tuck her up when she goes for a nap? at first she reconciles with it because it keeps peeta happy, but i think she’d grow to love all of the little inexpensive but thoughtful things he does for her.

she cuts his hair for him. it’s something her mother used to do for her father, and i’d imagine it was something she had to do for prim and herself when her mother was ill. one day, early on while they’re growing back together he mentions that he needs a haircut because he feels like it’s too long. she offers to do it for him because he doesn’t know how, and that day he lets her cut his hair at the kitchen sink. it’s far from perfect, but it’s tidy and keeps the curls from his eyes. her face is kind of flushed the whole time because the act feels so intimate and familiar, but from then on it becomes a routine that she does for him every couple of weeks.

and on the topic of hair, he just loves to play with hers. while they work on the memory book together and he has a hand free, while she’s reading on the couch curled up beside him, while she’s falling asleep with her head on his chest… he just always wants to be playing with her hair (partially for his own self and partially because it relaxes her). he braids and unbraids it, winds loose strands round his fingers, scratches her scalp because he knows it makes her shut her eyes everytime.

he has a bad habit of putting his cold hands on her when he just gets home from work on winter days. sometimes he doesn’t think and it’s totally by accident, other times he’s trying to be a nuisance and slips them up the back of her shirt when she comes to greet him in the hall. she gets her own back when she snuggles up against him in the night, putting her cold feet on his good leg and almost making him jump out of his skin.

and all of the massages. there’s plenty of opportunity for sore muscles in their daily tasks (hunting in the woods and hauling around sacks of flour) (and also, secretly some faked or exaggerated injuries) so the other has to massage the painful area and take care of them. particularly when she’s pregnant, he’s always offering to rub her back or her hips or whatever’s hurting most.

[growup-thatbeautiful]

come home

a sequel to drive away (but not necessary to read drive away)

warnings: mentions of abuse, neil hargrove deserves his own warning, harmful self thoughts, smoking, underage smoking, billy’s trauma

summary: billy and steve are trying their best to be together. but, well. it’s not easy with all of the history they have.

Billy never thought he could have this. sitting on the couch, hands itching for a cigarette that he can’t smoke, not in the house. surrounded by people he loves. and not the fake, routinely expressed love of his family before. no; this is different. this is ease and comfort. breathing deeply and not flinching when voices get excited. not having to put up a front.

everyone is talking over each other. voices bleed over each other, people sprawled across couches and floors and blankets. Max and El are laying on the floor, laughing about something and clutching their stomachs. a terrible, not-so-hidden part of Billy hates them for how carelessly happy they are. but then he remembers the nights when Max comes over and they sit in his room together. in silence. listening to the proof that the other one is alive. how, on the worst nights, El and him end up on opposite ends of the same couch he’s sitting on, head in hands, blaring some of Billy’s music to distract from thoughts.

they truly make up a house of misfits. outsiders. unwanted, unhealed souls.

but things are okay. better.

Steve is next to him, talking mindlessly about his week. Billy has been listening in and out. focusing isn’t the easiest thing in the world for him after everything. Steve knows, though, and Billy’s never mocked for the countless times he’s said “what” or stared blankly when questions are asked.

“-and this asshole at work can’t keep his fucking hands to himself. it’d be okay if it was just me, god knows I can handle some creep, but it’s the others too. Robin and the other family video workers. always comes in during my shift.”

“he ever touches you again, I’ll fucking kill him,” promises Billy. blessedly, Steve doesn’t mention that Billy sometimes can hardly walk around, the pain arching across his body too strong to ignore with a grimace. at least, that’s what everyone tells him. his sour face and pained noises give him away, now that there are people who care.

he’s not alone anymore. maybe it was easier when he was, though. he doesn’t really know how to do this. let people in. let feelings out.

“those violent delights have violent ends,” quotes Steve. “or something like that.”

“you gettin’ all metaphorical on me, bambi?” teases Billy, leaning into Steve. a moth to a flame. an addict to his drug.

“it’s shakespeare, dipshit.” Steve’s laugh. Billy can’t count the amount of times it’s saved him from the edge. the edge of terror in the middle of daylight. the edge of one more breakdown. the edge of sanity as he knows it.

“sorry, I haven’t been keeping up with my summer reading. I’ll have to get back on that before school starts,” deadpans Billy.

the thing is, he knows it’s a sore subject for Steve. Steve, who hated school. but Steve graduated. Billy never gets the chance. he can’t even check out a fucking library book. because the government, apparently, thinks that he won’t go crazy boxed up in this house. he doesn’t get a new identity, no, that would cause too many questions. fuck what he needs, just stay here and watch everyone else grow up. leave. they would anyway. he was always going to be stuck here, in this town, screaming with all his voice. please. someone let him out.

“shit, baby, I didn’t mean-“

“I know you didn’t,” interrupts Steve. Billy should know better, by now, but he never learns. he never has. he just keeps hurting people, it feels like. luckily, it’s not that unfamiliar of a feeling.

“Billy. it’s okay,” promises Steve. “I don’t give a shit about that anymore.” for some reason that just. makes Billy mad. madder than he has any right to be at all.

(but Billy thinks he lost his right to any emotions at all, so maybe he’s not the best judge on that.)

because Billy does give a shit. he does. he didn’t really like school, but it was some place to go. somewhere he had control over some things.

so he gets quiet. apparently that’s how he deal with anger now. doesn’t lash out with his words or his fist. until he’s pushed further.

“I mean, jesus christ, who would want to go back to school? the popularity. the contests. the speaking behind people’s back.”

“maybe that was just you.” Billy’s sulking now, his voice taking an edge that makes him want to punch himself.

“what?”

“maybe that’s just you. some people actually enjoyed getting to go somewhere and see people. at least it was a reason to get out of the house.” he’s sure he’s imagining it, the draft he feels in the room. the way the air goes cold. his hair stands on end, his short strands sticking up.

“yeah, not everyone could be king of the school. it wasn’t always what you make it out to be. I’m sure if you made it to senior year-“

“but I didn’t. and I can make it out to be whatever the fuck I want to make it out to be. at least you fucking graduated. I go through hell and back and I can’t even get myself out of here.” the thing is, it’s unfair. this whole thing. Steve and him, they don’t fight. not anymore. not after they threw blind punches that one night, conflict over a misunderstanding. one that caused Billy a week curled up on his bed, too scared to walk out the door because he was certain, positive, that Neil was on the other side. a week of paranoia and pain.

it’s easier if they don’t fight.

if only he could remember that now, when he needs to. when he’s curling his fists and counting his breath and closing his eyes.

Steve laughs. it’s not the sound Billy wants to hear, though. it’s crass and crude and a bit on edge. “high school wasn’t something that gets you out of here. nothing, and I mean nothing, can get anyone out of this shitty town. you think you went through hell? so did every single person in this room, and none of us got out of here.”

“really?” their voices are getting louder. hushed whispers only last so long. everyone else clears out of the room, leaving behind scared glances. like Billy could do anything to hurt Steve. “believe me, I know that. I’m the one that did that to them. it’s not self pity that drives me to want to escape this place. I know how to deal with bad situations, Harrington.” there’s terrible truth to his words.

“so I’m back to Harrington now? no pretty pet names when you’re pissed at me, I guess. tell me, if it’s not self pity, what is it? because I can’t think of another reason-“

“I’m a burden here. there’s no one here that needs me, not like they need to others. I hurt people and I cause sleepless nights. if I could leave, it would be better for everyone. but I can’t. I still can’t drive a fucking car because all I see is you and the kids in that parking lot. scared shitless. the engine revving and lights flashing.” Billy doesn’t give Steve the chance to interrupt, continuing his tirade against himself with conviction. “I can just run away. I can’t even fucking walk away. so yeah, maybe. maybe in some world where I finished high school with my fucking 3.5 GPA I would be somewhere else and not here ruining everyone around me.”

“I can’t believe you still think like that,” says Steve with horror. and, oh, he sounds truly horrified. which. well. Billy doesn’t always think like that. only on spiraling bad days. only when Steve isn’t around. and, today.

“sorry your kisses aren’t enough to immediately heal me,” Billy retorts, venom in his voice. of course, he doesn’t mean it. Steve’s helped Billy heal more than anyone else.

“that’s not fair.” it’s a soft accusation from Steve. a valid one. it’s not fair at all.

“nothing is,” comes Billy’s sardonic reply. he gets off the couch and goes down the hallway. slams the door shut. blasts his music and lays down on his bed.

Billy doesn’t sleep that night. he can’t, not when Steve is out there. being mad at him.

see, he’s used to the world being mad at him.

Billy can’t fucking believe their fighting about high school, of all goddamn things. Billy was never that passionate about it when it was happening, why should he be now? all that he has is to lose.

in the morning, when he decides he’s tried to sleep enough, Billy tells himself he’s going to make things better. for him. for Steve.

if only things were that easy. Steve finally, finally comes around during lunch to pick up El and Will for the arcade.

using all his will, Billy goes over and leans on the front of Steve’s car. next to Steve. it’s his opportunity to make things right. he’s not going to fuck it up. he’s going to be the good one for once.

“I don’t want to fight anymore.” Billy is begging. he knows that. he also has it engraved in his head that “real men don’t beg. ever.” another one of Neil’s shitty mantra’s that he just can’t get out of his head. it’s as close as he’ll ever get to begging.

“Billy, I don’t want to do this right now. come on, let’s just take the kids and deal with this later.”

“no.” it’s a ghost of the commands he used to give, the power he used to have over people. it’s shallow. empty. but Steve listens, because he’s Steve. he would listen to Billy sing the fucking ABC’s and then tell him thank you. “I want to talk about this now.”

“Billy,” Steve sighs. and that’s enough to make Billy cry, because that’s who he is now. someone who can cry from a single word, the one words that’s supposed to be his own.

“right, yeah. we’ll talk later.” Billy hates the way that his voice shakes. breaks. he hates the knots in his stomach that wind themselves tighter at the word later. because later leaves room for never. and Billy. he can’t deal with another never. not with Steve. he already has a million nevers to deal with.

“no.” Steve’s answer has strength behind it. “Billy, don’t take it like that.”

“it’s okay,” comes Billy’s immediate response. “you don’t have to do that. not for me. save it for the kids, they can use more coddling than me. god knows I should be able to wait a few hours.” and then he runs away. well. as much as he can. really, he pushes himself off the hood of Steve’s car, without grace, and limps himself back to the front door, muttering about damn scars that shouldn’t hurt anymore but they do.

they don’t hurt quite as much, though, as the fact that he’s leaving Steve, a cigarette dangling between his fingers, mouth open in a pretty circle. for what seems like the millionth time, Billy’s pushing and pushing and pushing,waiting for the other person to break. cause then he can blame it on that. say he pushed someone away instead of saying they left him.

it’s the one part of himself he never got rid of. it didn’t get carved out of him with that monster. no gaping whole missing his compulsive distancing, no sir. that part he gets to keep. coincidentally enough, it’s also a part of himself that he despises the most. and a part that kept him safe. you can’t hurt friends you don’t have.

it never stopped him from loving, though. nothing could ever stop his beating heart from attaching itself to anyone who showed him attention. Steve, Max, Joyce, El. no one can escape his horrible, twisted, heart. the heart that reaches out without his permission and makes living, breathing, even, torture. as if he doesn’t have enough pain to deal with.

Joyce, like usual, seems to know what’s going on. she shoos the other kids out of the way and sits them up down at the kitchen table.

“he didn’t want to talk,” says Billy shortly.

“who? Steve?” Max peeks her head around he corner.

“are you goin’ to the arcade or not? Steve’s leaving.” probably already left after Billy’s pathetic display of an attempt at kindness.

“not anymore.” she takes a seat next to Joyce.

“so, honey, what’s going on?”

“you didn’t hear from the other side of the living room wall?” mumbles Billy tiredly. “we got into it yesterday. something about high school and me saying everything wrong.”

“sounds about right,” comments Max. Joyce nudges her and she corrects herself. “I mean, I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. you’re a very sensible person.” the solemn tone of her voice makes her seem older. mature. beyond her teenager years.

“I can’t lose him,” Billy mutters. he can’t.

“kiddo. you won’t. he’s smarter than that. you think I listen every time Jonathan said he hated me in eighth grade? kids do dumb stuff all the time and say even dumber things. you’ll get over this together.” Billy hopes Joyce is right.

“it’s not like either one of you have enough brain cells to actually think about any of this.”

“fuck off, Maxine.” she doesn’t. she stays by his side the whole time he waits for Steve, saying nothing about his bouncing leg. he knows it drives her crazy. he loves her for it.

he gets his second chance to prove himself later that night. he prays that Joyce is right. they’ll get over this together. Steve drops off the kids back home before dark. always before dark.

“hey, pretty boy.” he sidles up next to Steve, leaning against the car. Steve is smoking, one hand shoved in his pocket. “got a minute to talk?”

“sure.” it’s more than Billy expected already. progress.

“look, I feel real bad about everything that happened earlier. you didn’t deserve any if that.”

“see, you’re the asshole,” wonders Steve. “you’re the asshole, but I’m the one who ends up feeling bad every time.”

“you shouldn’t,” says Billy, like his words mean anything right now, like if he could make Steve believe him, somehow, he would. “I know I’m an asshole. that’s the only thing that didn’t change when all that shit happened.”

“at least you’re self aware,” agrees Steve. it feels like an olive branch between them, between whatever fight this is.

“why can’t we just have each other without all this other shit?” Billy mourns. and, oh, isn’t that so true? he mourns for them just like he mourns the childhood he’s ruined for the kids. for Max and El and Will and even Lucas. it feels like all he does is mourn things that aren’t there. but. Steve’s there. he’s here, right beside Billy.

(and he knows it isn’t a dream because he only has nightmares. he can tell it isn’t real when he turns over and Steve isn’t there, no, some dark thing is there and it’s definitely not Steve. Steve is bright and warm and alive.)

why should he mourn now, when this one thing he wants is right there? shit, nothing else has ever been easy for him. why should this be?

fuck it.

“look, Harrington, I don’t know how to do any of this. especially not now. I can’t get out of this fucking driveway without you, and even then my options are limited. I can’t take you to a nice dinner or flirt with you in front of your parents. there are so many things that I just can’t give you, and you deserve someone who can. but, well. I’m too selfish to let you go. shit, you’re one of the only good things I got going for myself, you know? I don’t think I can cope with loosing something else.” his hands are shaking, but not as much as his voice. he. well, he didn’t mean to give himself away that much. show so much of his hand. “you’re the person in this shithole that’s helped me out of my own personal hell. you’ve saved me a million little times from a depth of myself that I hate going into. I couldn’t do anything, anything without you. I think you might be stuck with me for a while. bitchy moods and all. petty fights about high school and all.”

“I just want to come home to you,” breathes Steve, like a prayer. Billy isn’t religious, stopped believe the first time Neil raised a fist, but if believing in some trivial god meant hearing Steve say shit like that, he would get down on his fucking knees. right here, right now. “that’s all I ever want. I don’t care if I come home and you can’t talk because all you hear is It’s voice in your head or you can’t stop talking to drown out the other voices. the ones that scream your name and beg you to save them. it doesn’t matter to me if you’re in your room crying, which i know you do, or you’re with El drawing, which I know you’re shit at. I don’t ask you to take me out to dinner or stop smoking. if you’re in a bad mood I’ll be in a bad mood with you. if you’re looking for a fight, I’ll take the blows because I know you don’t mean a fucking word of what you say when you get that look in your eyes. I would never ask you to take that off.” Steve gestures to the bright pink bracelet that Max gave Billy a few months ago. she has a matching one. he never takes it off. it’s ratty and dulled, and yet.

and yet it’s something that’s truly his.

“I just want you to be home when I walk through the door. and I don’t mean my parents house, where the furniture is uncomfortable and unused. where I can’t sleep without having nightmares about all the people I love across the whole town from me. where I don’t know if you’re okay. where my mom gets drunk and my dad ignores us, like if he doesn’t look he can pretend we aren’t there. most of the time, no one’s there anyway. that’s never been my home.”

“Steve, you don’t have to say this for me.”

“yes, I do,” replies Steve stubbornly. “because I don’t think you believe a word I’m saying.”

“I believe the parts about you being a perfect boyfriend and me being a shitty one,” supplies Billy helpfully.

“you aren’t shitty,” sighs Steve. “you just have a lot of shit to deal with. and I’m here for you through that. you’re going to have bad days. I’m going to have bad days. that’s okay. it’s part of this fucked up town. the one that we unfortunately live in.”

“I’m sorry.” he finally says it. he’s always meant to say it. especially to Steve.

“I know. and you don’t have to be. we all have moments when we wish things were different.” ah. there it is. the awful truth.

“I don’t.”

“what?” Steve, beautiful Steve, looks up at Billy. those big eyes. he’s missed those eyes.

“I don’t wish things are different. if none of this happened I wouldn’t be here with you.” it’s as simple as that. really. “in whatever other world we exist in, this never happens without the rest.”

“you’d take all those things to be with me?” Steve asks. like it isn’t a stupid question. like the answer isn’t right in front of him, manifested in apologizes and stumbling words.

“I would” swears Billy. “I would do it all again to see your smile.” he kisses Steve on the cheek.

“to hear your laugh.” a kiss on the forehead this time.

“to listen to you talk.” Steve’s jaw. a shuttering breath from the both of them.

“I’m still mad at you, you know,” whispers Steve. but his hands are coming up to run through Billy’s shortened hair. gripping right. pulling him close.

“I know, baby. let me make it up to you?”

“lead the way, Hargrove.”