#but still that's a lot for a square of candy
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luveline · 1 year ago
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(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧
Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 
cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 
A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 
“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 
“I wanna see Max.” 
“She has to be here somewhere.” 
That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 
Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 
Steve frowns at you worriedly. 
“Who died?” asks a new voice.
You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 
“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 
“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”
“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 
“Is it awful?” you ask. 
“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 
“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 
“Dustin. He’s outside.” 
Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 
He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 
“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.
You school your impression. “Like what?” 
“Like you like him.” 
You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 
She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 
“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 
“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 
“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 
“He was touching you a lot.” 
“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 
“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 
“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 
“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 
You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 
“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 
Oh, boy, you think. 
As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.
From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 
Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 
“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 
“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.
“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 
“Steve.” 
“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 
“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 
“What?” he asks. 
His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 
You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 
“Are you okay?” 
“What?” 
“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 
“I sounded weird?” 
“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 
You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 
“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 
“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 
Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 
You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 
After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 
“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 
You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 
“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 
He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 
“You were in the way of the light.” 
“That what it was?”
“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 
“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 
Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 
“It’s good.” 
“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 
He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 
Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 
You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 
You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 
He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 
You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 
“You okay?” he whispers. 
You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 
“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 
Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.
The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 
A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 
“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.
“I really like you, Steve.” 
He stares at you. “…But?”
“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 
“I thought…” And of course he did. 
“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 
He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 
“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 
“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 
“Yeah.” 
Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 
“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”
“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 
“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 
“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 
“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 
“I like you too!” he says loudly. 
A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 
You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 
“You okay?” he asks tightly. 
“I’m sorry.”
He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 
You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 
He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 
“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 
“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 
You nod vehemently. 
Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”
—♡—
The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 
A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.
“I think I might melt.” 
“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 
“You can be my parasol.” 
“Your what?” 
“It’s a sun umbrella.” 
“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 
You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.
He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 
If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 
“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 
He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 
“That’s perfect.” 
“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 
“No… I’m thinking.” 
“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 
“I have something I want to talk to you about.”
“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 
You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 
“It’s a question.” 
He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 
“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 
“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”
He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 
“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 
His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 
“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 
“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 
His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 
You tip your head aside to catch your breath.
“Better late than never,” you joke. 
Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️
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bambiesfics · 1 year ago
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Opposites Attract Theory - Ellie x Bimbo!reader
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Ellie was everything you weren’t. She was a girl in brown plaid button ups, who could only find comfort in wearing her father’s oversized chocolate suede jacket.  She could hardly be described as sweet or adorable, not like you were. Ellie was reserved, masculine, angry, and traumatized. Ellie smoked cigarettes to keep her nerves at bay, cut chunks off of the ends of her hair when they got too long and feminine, spent all her money on tattoos if she wasn’t spending it on you, wore old men’s weathered leather shoes, painted her nails with the cheapest black polish just so they could chip on purpose, and tucked her strap into her pants because it just felt right. No more, no less.
All of those descriptions she’d agreed with, but just one word was missing. The word ‘provider.’ The aspect of her character that she prided herself on the most, was being your provider.
  You were her opposite, the light to her shadow. You were naive, sweet, bubbly. Your eyes were big and curious, and you asked every question earnestly. You bounced around in your cute little outfits. Low cut tops with your tits spilling out, dresses where the wind exposed the chub of your ass, and skirts so short they showed your plump little pussy, eating up your g-strings; outfits that made you easy prey for leering. You got your nails done, and showed them off by grabbing Ellie’s thick cock with both hands while sucking hard on her tip. You bent over to pick up dropped items because your acrylics made you clumsy, and squealed when your girlfriend smacked you square on your ass. You got little Brazilian waxes, and sent pictures with a smiley face saying “still a bit sensitive but do you think it looks pretty Els?” And you were shocked that she pounded you into the headboard later that day, until your vagina was puffy. You sat on Ellie’s lap when she beckoned you too, but never quite figured out that it was because she wanted you to feel her erection sandwiched between your ass. You pranced outside in thin little pink shirts that showed the outline of your plump nipples and areola, and started pouting when Ellie draped her jacket on you before she let you step out of her car. 
You pouted about how your girlfriend was “too overprotective” but you were a ditzy, trusting airhead, who had the IQ of a care bear. Ellie didn’t have a choice, you were too stupid for your own good. Too sugary and sweet, sissy and girly. 
  You needed a guy like Ellie to pick up extra shifts for you, so you could go on your little shopping sprees, to buy lip gloss and candy. You needed a guy like Ellie to come everywhere with you, so creepy fucks would know that the pretty little bimbo had a gaurd dog next to her who would snap, snarl and bite them. You needed a guy like Ellie to run her tongue around your little pink hole, twitching and hungry, just to prepare that tiny hole as a warm place for her cock to sink into right after. Her balls often found themselves smacking against the bottom of your puffy neglected clit. You needed a guy like Ellie to indulge your little airhead babble, your piss poor attempt at conversation or even saying a coherent sentence. God knows you could yap for hours and say nothing of note, nothing anyone would perceive as highbrow or thought-provoking, but Ellie loved it. Loved watching those plump pink lips smack together to talk about dumb little girl topics like  “love island” or how “your pinks don’t match” or “beauty guru drama.”
And Ellie loved to indulge that clingy, pouty, needy little attitude you had around her. She’d bounce you up and down her cock, to shush your sniffles after she snapped at you. She’d rubbed your back, and promise to get your nails done just so you’d get overwhelmed with joy and cry “Ellieeee” in her arms, she’d wipe your pouty tears off your cheeks when you couldn’t take her cock all the way down, and tell you that you’ll get so much better after lots n’ lots of practice, she’d let you baby her when she was sick, and pretend that your poorly made chicken soup was the cure for her illness, and not the fever medication she’d been knocking back for the past week, she’d indulge your repetitive airheaded questions like “Ellieee, why can’t we print more money?” and “Ellieee how do you know you can see me? What if you’re you’re just imagining me?,” and she’d let you curl up with her brown jacket at night, cause it smelled exactly like her and brought you comfort in those days she had too many back-to-back shifts and couldn’t stay with you. That jacket was her fathers, so for her to leave it with you, meant that she wanted to take care of you in a way he’d be proud of.
  You were Ellie’s dumb little bimbo doll. Her pink hole to use as a fleshlight, her set of plump lips to watch suction around her dick, her sugary little ditz.
But you were also Ellie’s future wife, the future mother of her kids. The woman who provided the the most gentle balance to Ellie’s rough edges and hard lines, the woman who was her emotion support, her pillar, the grounded rock that she’d cling to during her rapid river emotions. In turn Ellie would be your guard dog, your emotional support, your girlfriend, your boyfriend, your husband, your wife, your butch, your provider. She’d be whatever you needed. 
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tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year ago
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Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader
Summary: Jake Seresin gets a frightful visitor on Halloween.
CW: Angst, fluff, suggestive themes, alludes to past cheating
WC: 3500+
This fic was written for @roosterforme’s Rocktober challenge! Inspired by the song Poison by Alice Cooper.
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“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jake says with a look of disgust – as much of it as he can muster. You, after all, have been his greatest source of misery as of late.
You give him a dirty look – your specialty – and barge into his home as though you own the place and Jake’s just a goddamn doorman. “I need to lay low for a bit.”
Jake narrows his eyes as he turns to face you. He keeps the door open because he’s still hoping you’re going to leave any minute. “Lay low?” he asks mockingly. “What’d you do? Commit murder?” He wouldn’t be surprised.
You peek around his arm to glance out at the street. “Someone’s looking for me.”
Jake watches you impassively. “Is it the police?” Then, after a moment, he adds, “Is there a reward?”
You roll your eyes. “You’re the only one in this neighbourhood that I trust,” you say, pushing on the door that Jake is obstinately keeping open.
Jake nods. “Shame that trust doesn’t go both ways,” he comments contemptuously.
You eye him irritably. “Close the door.”
“Tell me why you’re here.”
“I just did.”
Jake shakes his head. “You could not have been more vague.”
You sigh. “Close the door and I’ll tell you.”
Jake exhales warily and shuts the front door. He surveys your outfit. “What are you wearing?”
You glance down at your ensemble: a black, form-fitting body suit and fishnet stockings. You’re also sporting knee-high boots and you’ve got what looks like six extra arms coming out of your back. You look back up at him with an annoyed expression on your face. “It’s Halloween,” you snap defensively.
Jake grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” He gestures to a cauldron full of candy sitting near the front door. “There’s gonna be a fuck-tonne of children coming through here trick-or-treating in like half an hour and you’re dressed like a gothic porn star.”
Instead of being offended, you lift your eyebrows in surprise. “You’re handing out candy?”
Jake sighs and places his hands on his hips, fixing you with a stern look. “Yeah, I’m handing out candy. That’s what adults do on Halloween.”
You stare at him as a smile materializes on your face. “Is that your costume?” you ask facetiously, gesturing at his checkered polo shirt. “Adult?”
Jake squares his jaw to mask the fact that he found your joke humorous, but you seem to notice the shift in his features because your own grin broadens. “My mom got me this shirt,” he says.
“Ah,” you respond. “A fellow adult.”
Jake tears his gaze away from you, focusing instead on the shiny, pointed toes of your stilettos. “Why’re you here?” he asks again, this time a lot less peevishly and a lot more grimly.
You bend down to unzip your boots. “I’m a spider,” you say. “Black widow.”
Jake glances up to meet your gaze as you straighten up. He nods. “Suits you.”
You give him a flat look. “I was at the bus stop and some dude started harassing me.”
Jake’s eyes trail down your scantily glad body. “You don’t say,” he remarks sarcastically.
Your jaw drops in outrage. “Are you victim blaming?”
Jake chuckles and shakes his head. “It was a joke.”
You cringe. “It was in poor taste.”
Jake closes his eyes and lets out a tired sigh. He’s had about enough of your attitude. “You wanna talk about poor taste?” he asks. “Where’s that lovely boyfriend of yours?”
You watch him sourly. “We’re not together anymore, if you must know,” you reply.
Truth be told, Jake probably didn’t need to know. But, now that he does, it’s only fitting that he respond with, “Shocking.”
You give him the finger. As if he were the one who’d been dating two people at the same time.
There’s a knock on the door. “Fuck,” he mutters, giving you a moody look. “Hide,” he says. “Unless you’d rather traumatize a bunch of eight-year-olds.”
You grimace at him. “You think eight-year-olds haven’t seen worse?”
Jake scans the low-cut neckline of your costume. He can’t think of anything more erotic if he tried. But, if he’s being honest, it’s not the outfit so much as your insane body that’s the culprit. He reaches out to grab your hand and pull you aside, making sure you’re tucked safely behind the door before opening it.
He smiles down at the two little kids on his porch when they yell, “TRICK-OR-TREAT!” at the top of their lungs.
“Well, well, well,” he says cheerily, bending down to grab a handful of candy out of his cauldron. “Who do we have here?” He puts the candy into one of their bags. “Are you a mermaid?”
The girl nods happily.
Jake wows in amazement. “You’re the prettiest mermaid I’ve ever seen!” He bends down to grab another handful of candy and drops it into the second child’s bag. “And you must be Iron Man!” he exclaims. “That’s one cool costume, bud. You look great!”
When Jake finally closes the door and looks at you, he sees that you’ve got your arms folded over your chest and a giant smirk on your face.
“What?” he asks darkly.
Your smile widens. “That was cute.”
Jake takes a step from the door and looks away from you. He’s not about to get sucked back into your web of lies, no pun intended. “You wanna hand some out?” he asks.
“I thought you don’t want me traumatizing the children,” you respond sarcastically, stepping out of the corner toward him.
Jake glances at you with a small smile. “I can give you some clothes, if you like.”
You wiggle your eyebrows. “Adult clothes?”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Come on, before more kids show up.”
He makes his way into his bedroom and grabs a pair of jogging pants and t-shirt and brings them back out for you. “Bathroom’s down the hall,” he says.
“I remember,” you respond, but you’ve already started to remove your bodysuit.
Jake turns away in alarm and holds out the clothes for you. “Do you?”
“Come on, it’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” you say. “Shoot, I’m not wearing any underwear.”
Jake groans. “Are you for fucking real?”
“You got a pair of boxers?”
Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Hold this,” he instructs, keeping a hand over his eyes as he hands you the crumpled clothes and starts back for his bedroom.
“You know what? I’ll just go commando.”
Jake takes a deep, cleansing breath and turns back toward you. He keeps his eyes closed and holds a hand out so as not to bump into anything as he walks. Of course, as luck would have it, he stumbles into you.
“What the fuck, dude?” you exclaim as his hands cling to your naked body, steadying you so you don’t fall over.
Jake squeezes his eyes tightly so that they don’t open inadvertently. “Sorry, sorry!” he winces, finally stabilizing both himself and you. He feels the softness of your skin underneath his palms as his hands do a final sweep along your back before he lifts them away from your body with a grimace. He’s bracing himself for a punch in the face.
“Are you a dumbass? Open your eyes!” you screech. “You’ve seen me naked how many times?!”
“Twelve,” he responds, a little hoarsely. All he can think about is how smooth your skin felt in his hands not a moment ago and it’s driving him a little mad.
“It was a rhetorical question,” you say pointedly. “You counted?”
“Are you decent yet?” he asks, clearing his throat.
“I’m never decent,” you mutter under your breath and Jake can’t help but smirk. “But if you’re asking whether or not I’m dressed. Then, yes, I am.”
Jake releases a heavy sigh and opens his eyes cautiously.
You scowl at him. “What, you think I’m tricking you?”
“Well, you aren’t treating me.”
You stare at him coolly. “You’re such a delight. Can’t imagine why we ever broke up.”
“Need a reminder?” he calls as you make your way back into the front hall. “It’s because you cheated on me!”
You’re standing at the front door with your arms crossed. “I didn’t cheat, for the last time,” you retort. “We weren’t exclusive.”
Jake presses his lips into a thin line. “I was exclusive.”
You shake your head in frustration. “Let’s just agree to disagree.”
“Fine.”
“Great.”
There’s another knock on the door. You sigh irritably and reach for the doorknob.
“Hello!” you exclaim enthusiastically the moment the door is open.
The mob of children on Jake’s doorstep all look up at you with exuberant grins and yell their opening line in a loud, messy chorus.
You react with an animated gasp. “Oh my goodness! You guys are a frightful bunch!”
The kids laugh. Indeed, they’re dressed as zombies, ghosts, and vampires, and, when you comment on their appearance, they growl and make scary faces at you. Jake smiles at them and then at you as you distribute the candy from the cauldron excitedly.
Once the door is closed, however, you drop the act, giving him an icy look as you settle yourself on the little bench near the door.
Jake fights the urge to sit next to you and maybe get a little lost in the smell of your perfume. He still gets a whiff of it from time to time when he walks by his closet. Which reminds him –
“I have your sweater,” he says awkwardly.
You glance up at him coldly. “Well, why didn’t you give it to me? It’d probably look better than this.” You tug on the hem of the t-shirt he gave you.
Jake doubts it; the fact that he could see your nipples through the fabric of his own shirt is even more of a turn on than your low-cut bodysuit had been. But he responds with, “Probably. But I’m not about to let you change again.”
You snort. “Fair.”
Jake wonders just how detrimental sitting next to you might be to his personal journey of recovery. He figures that you also would prefer that he stay as far away from you as possible. Ultimately, however, he decides that it’s his bench, after all, and that he’ll be sharing it with you and not the other way around. And, with regard to getting over you, well, he can try again tomorrow.
Jake makes his way over to the bench and you eye him cautiously as he approaches. Silently, you slide to make room for him. He gulps nervously and lowers himself onto the seat beside you.
“What were you doing at the bus stop, anyway?” he asks, staring down at his own clasped hands because he can’t handle looking at you when you’re sitting so close.
“Frank and I were on our way to a party,” you respond sullenly.
Jake glances up at you despite himself. “Thought you two broke up.”
You meet his gaze and promptly look away – apparently, you’re not too keen on engaging in eye contact at this proximity either. “We did,” you say curtly. “About an hour ago.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “An hour ago?”
“We had a fight on the way. I hopped out of the car at a red light.”
Jake leaps out of his seat. “Are you crazy?” he exclaims. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”
You give him an amused look. “Don’t you fly jets for a living?”
Jake gapes at you incredulously. “I trained for that,” he retorts.
You let out a small laugh. “You’re right,” you reply. “I should’ve practiced first.”
Jake draws a hand over his mouth. “Okay, so you got out of the car in the middle of traffic,” he says with a wince. “And he, what? Just let you go?”
You shrug. “Wouldn’t you?”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “In what you were wearing? I wouldn’t even let you go to the bathroom by yourself.”
You stare at him with a grin. “That’s a bit excessive.”
“Yeah?” he asks. “How many guys made passes at you before you finally decided that taking the bus home wasn’t the brightest idea?”
You lower your gaze without responding.
“As if that douchebag just left you,” Jake says angrily.
“Well, I wasn’t being very nice.”
“There’s a surprise.”
You eye him dangerously.
“You could’ve gotten hurt,” Jake says. “This isn’t the safest neighbourhood.”
You suck in your cheeks and nod. “Yeah, I was pretty freaked out actually,” you admit. “There was a group of guys following me and they kept making lewd comments. When I got to the bus stop, they sort of surrounded me…”
You trail off and Jake’s hands curls into fists of their own volition. “I could kill your boyfriend.”
“Ex,” you remind him.
“Whatever,” he says. After a moment, he asks, “Are you okay?”
You nod. “I pretended to call someone – you actually,” you say with a laugh. “I had a whole fake conversation with you on my way over. They lost interest in me after a little while and took off.”
He watches you solemnly. “You could’ve actually called me,” he says.
Your face turns skeptical. “Right. And you’d pick up?”
Probably not. “Of course,” he responds. Then he sighs and shakes his head. “Maybe I wouldn’t.”
“It’s fine,” you say. “I wouldn’t blame you.”
Jake sighs and sits back down beside you.
Several more groups of trick-or-treaters come and go and you and him take turns answering the door. Occasionally, both of you jump up at the same time and end up oohing and aahing in unison at the various costumes that grace Jake’s doorstep.
This activity does little to help quell the feelings he’s tried for months to repress. He remembers grudgingly the night he told you he was falling for you and you telling him that you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment. That’s when he found out that he wasn’t the only one you’d been seeing.
In your defense, it’s not something you had been actively hiding. In fact, you probably thought that Jake was also sleeping around, given his reputation. But Jake caught feelings like an idiot and was heartbroken when you finally showed your cards.
He spent nearly a year convincing himself that you’re absolute scum. Yet, here you are, looking cute as a button in his joggers and t-shirt, laughing giddily at the neighborhood children like you’re some kind of sweetheart. Like you could fool him now.
Jake slumps back down on the bench, trying to interact with you as little as possible. He can sense that you’re starting to win him over again, and he can’t have that happen. He will not be seduced.
You sit beside him with a grand sigh and lean your head back against the wall. “You get a lot of kids here,” you say lightly.
“Mm-hm,” he hums, bending forward to rest his arms on his legs.
“I’m getting hungry,” you say. “You?”
Jake closes his eyes. The last thing he needs is a fucking dinner date with you. “There are some leftovers in the fridge. You can go heat some up for yourself.”
You lay a hand on his back and Jake goes rigid. “You’re not going to eat?” you ask.
“Not hungry,” he manages to say.
Your hand slides unhurriedly down his spine, your fingers grazing him delicately. Jake brings a fist to his mouth to suppress a moan. “I’ll wait, then,” you say softly. Then, before Jake can gather the strength to remove himself from the situation, you lean your body into his and rest your head on his shoulder.
Jake sits very still, trying to decide how best to navigate this turn of events.
“Do you ever miss me?” you murmur faintly.
Jake turns his head to look down at your face while his heart springs into his throat to constrict his breathing. “What are you doing?” he asks huskily.
Your eyes stare deeply into his. “I’m just wondering,” you whisper.
Jake sighs and rubs his forehead. “You just broke up with Frank.”
Your eyes start to fill with tears. “I miss you.”
“Fuck,” Jake mutters and straightens his back. His head drops like a deadweight against the drywall in behind.
You’re displaced in the process but, once he’s situated, you slowly move closer, until your head is resting over his chest.
Jake grits his teeth but wraps his arm around you and, in response, you lay your arm over his abdomen. He can feel your fingers twist into the fabric of his shirt. He tightens his embrace around your shoulders and curses some more, in silence this time. What is it about you that he just can’t resist?
You lift your head off his chest so you can be face to face with him. Jake tries very hard not to lock eyes with you because that would likely be the end of him. “Jake,” you say in a wispy sort of tone and Jake instantly loses that fight. He meets your gaze, and your eyes entrance him. “I want you to kiss me,” you breathe.
Jake can almost taste the citrus of your perfume; it hangs over you like a veil. He can already hear your melodic moans; he knows what you sound like when he touches you. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest, the ardent urging of your hands as they slip underneath his shirt.
But what he can’t do is kiss you.
Your lips… your lips are all he can think about. He wants you more than anything in the world but you’re not here the same way he’s here; you’re just passing through while he’s here to stay.
You come impossibly close, aching for just a split second of contact. “Don’t you want to?” you whisper.
Jake can hardly stand being this close to you. “Why are you doing this?” he asks in a low, uneven voice.
You gulp and the tip of your nose brushes his. “I want to be with you, Jake,” you whimper, your fingers digging persistently into his ribs. Your travelling hands ignite a chain of pyrotechnics under his skin that sort of set his entire chest ablaze. “Don’t you want that?”
If only you knew how much. He shakes his head, cupping your cheek in his hand. “How can that be? When you’ve only been single for an hour?”
Your eyes start to sparkle. “You don’t believe me?”
He’ll never believe a word you say. But that doesn’t make him want you any less. He catches the tears that stream down your face with his thumb.
“I never got over you, Jake,” you say, clasping your hand over his on your cheek. “I think about you all the time.”
Jake leans his head into yours and grips your hand in his. If you’re telling the truth, he sympathizes. But, more likely than not, every word coming out of your mouth is fiction.
You push him away and sit up straight, wiping at your tears. “I never meant to hurt you,” you say. “I made a mistake. I realized that the moment you left. And I was too proud to go after you.”
Jake grimaces. “So, you dated Frank for ten months?”
You shrug. “On and off. He cheated on me, so…” you trail off with a cynical laugh. “Got what I deserved.”
Jake furrows his brows. “You don’t deserve that.”
You glance up at him with renewed hope. “I don’t deserve you,” you say with a strangled sigh. “I know that. And you know that, obviously. Which is why you won’t kiss me.”
Jake shakes his head.
“I know that it’s long over, Jake. I’m not delusional,” you say, your eyes so penetrating it feels like they’re clawing right into his soul. “And, I swear, I did not come here for this. It’s just, seeing you again – and your fucking disgustingly adorable adult shirt – handing out candy like a well-adjusted member of society – it reminded me what I missed out on.”
Jake lifts his eyebrows. “A lame, costume-less, party-less Halloween?”
You smile. “It’s not lame. It’s perfect.”
Jake watches you wretchedly. You may look innocent sitting before him in his very own baggy joggers and t-shirt with your dizzyingly beautiful eyes. But you are a fucking black widow. With a venomous bite. And sweet lips that spew lies, webs of which he could never untangle. Poison on the tongue. Toxic to the bone. Fatal. “You’re perfect,” he says.
You gaze at him tenderly, waiting for your moment to strike. Jake is waiting too. There’s no use fighting it, he lost the moment he met you. And he’ll lose as many times as it will take to win you for good.
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ginnsbaker · 2 months ago
Text
All Of Your Pieces (10 - Welcome Home)
Chapter Summary: “No,” you shake your head firmly. Wanda wouldn't do that to you, wouldn't impose her will on you, let alone on thousands of people. “I'm sorry,” Darcy murmurs, her voice low. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I wish I was lying, but I swear I’m not.”
“Prove it,” you demand, in a last, desperate attempt to cling to the life you've built here with Wanda, to preserve the trust you've placed in the person who means the world to you.
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 6.1k+ | Chapter Tags/Warnings: None
A/N: We've reached the end of Part 1! If you've noticed the updated series masterlist, I removed the dates of when the Part 2 chapters will be published. I've decided to take my time as I've started Law school. Rest assured this series will be completed, as I have a feeling this will be my last for this pairing/fandom // More author's notes here.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
It's getting late. Families are beginning to pack up, hauling sugar-fueled, weary kids back home, as the Halloween crowd dwindles to a few costumed stragglers. One by one, the booths start shutting down, their owners announcing fifty percent off final sales in a last-ditch effort to clear their stocks. You haven't returned from your patrol, and Billy and Tommy are nowhere to be seen. 
You should've been back by now. The boys, too. 
Wanda’s anxiety is creeping up again. She scans the square, searching faces, but none of them are yours. None of them are Billy or Tommy's. 
“Have you seen my kids, Billy and Tommy?” she asks a passing neighbor.
“Can't say I have,” he shrugs, moving along.
An uneasy feeling crawls up Wanda's spine. Where’s her family?
Then she spots Agnes, effortlessly holding court with a group of volunteers by the cotton candy stand. She hesitates, knowing full well that getting Agnes' attention usually means signing up for more than she bargained for. But if anyone has a handle on everything happening tonight, it’s her snooping, ever-present neighbor.
“Agnes!” Wanda calls out, weaving through the remnants of the crowd.
Agnes turns, eyes gleaming, her mouth already stretched wide into a blinding smile. “Wanda! What can I do for you?”
“Have you seen the boys? Or Y/N?” Wanda tries to keep the edge out of her voice.
“Oh, the boys are at my place! They heard I got a new gaming console for Ralph and just couldn't resist. Begged me to let them try it out.”
Nothing about what Agnes said makes sense. “They went to your house? Without asking me?”
“Oh, you know how boys are with their toys,” Agnes rolls her eyes. “They were so excited, I didn't have the heart to say no.”
Wanda frowns. She knows her children well—they're adventurous but always inform her or you before taking off. “They should've asked for my permission,” Wanda says.
Agnes waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud. They're safe and sound, having the time of their lives.”
“That's not the point,” Wanda snaps.
Agnes laughs, head thrown back, and it makes Wanda's skin prickle. “Come on, dear. It's Halloween. Let them have a little fun.”
Wanda takes a deep breath. “It's getting late. I'd like to bring them home now.”
“Of course, of course,” Agnes says softly, her hand resting briefly on Wanda's arm. “I’ll drive you over.”
Wanda climbs into Agatha’s car, her eyes still darting around, the unease in her chest growing tighter despite having an answer about where her kids are.
“Have you heard from Y/N?” Wanda can’t help but ask again, as if hoping for a different answer this time.
Agnes glances at her sideways. “Probably still on patrol. Dedicated, that one.”
Wanda nods, but it doesn’t ease the tightness in her chest. The streets feel longer than usual, stretching out like a labyrinth. Wherever you are, she hopes you’re doing okay, and that you’re nowhere near the boundary.
They arrive at Agnes' house shortly after. Wanda’s expecting the noise of video games coming from the living room, but the house is quiet and poorly-lit. 
“After you,” Agnes says, opening the door.
Wanda steps inside, a cold breeze hitting her on the face almost immediately. 
“Boys? Billy? Tommy?”
But there’s not a sign of them. In fact, there’s no sign of anyone in the house. The gaming console sits untouched near the television, controllers neatly arranged. The silence is too loud. 
Wanda spins around to face her. “Where are they?”
Agnes closes the door behind them. “Oh, they might've wandered downstairs.”
“Which way?”
“Just through the kitchen and down the stairs,” Agnes points. 
Wanda moves toward the basement door, her footsteps muted by an old rug. She opens it and descends the creaking wooden steps. 
“Boys?” Wanda calls out.
The further she goes, the cooler the air becomes. Reaching the bottom, she finds herself in a space that doesn't match the rest of Agnes’ home. 
The basement is expansive and ancient-looking, with stone walls draped in vines whose origins Wanda can't discern. There are candles spread around, making a circular enclosure of the empty spot in the middle. The room is filled with strange artifacts—old books, glass jars containing unidentifiable substances, and objects that seem out of place in a suburban home. 
But none of that catches Wanda’s attention more than the fact that her kids are nowhere to be seen.
She turns back toward the stairs but Agnes is there, blocking her path.
“Looking for something?” Agnes asks innocently.
Wanda takes several steps back, her fists balling at her sides. “Who are you?” 
Agnes looks pleased by that question. “The name’s Agatha Harkness. Lovely to finally meet you, dear.”
As soon as Darcy mentioned mind control and fabricated reality, you had to get out of the car. Darcy follows suit, and you wait for the punchline, but it never comes. It sounds crazy, but then, this town has always made you feel crazy. Maybe it's not so far-fetched after all.
But what’s inconceivable is Wanda being behind all this madness.
“Wanda? My wife Wanda?” you ask weakly, knowing there’s no one—perhaps no one within a thousand miles—who shares her name.
“Yes, but not exactly,” Darcy says. “She's manipulating everything—people, places, even time. Including you.”
Including you? You don’t feel like you’re being manipulated—not exactly. But whatever this is, it’s starting to wear thin, grating at your patience.
“Is this some kind of prank? Did Agnes put you up to this?”
“I wish it were a joke,” she bemoans, sounding like she means it. “Think about it. Do you remember anything before Westview? How you got here? Your life before this?”
“Of course I do,” you insist, but as you try to recall specifics, your memories blur—faces without names, events without context.
“What's your last clear memory before moving here?”
You try to answer, but your mind keeps drawing a blank.
“Exactly,” Darcy says gently.
You shake your head. “No, this is ridiculous.”
“I know it's hard to accept, but you have to believe me. Wanda is controlling everything, and you're a part of it.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you might be the only one who can stop her. The only one she'll listen to.”
“Why me?” you ask, heart pounding. “Do you even know me?”
Darcy shifts her weight under the streetlamp. “I’ve… read about you. You're Y/N, an Avenger, just like Wanda was before... before all this.”
“An Avenger?” You frown, the word sounding not entirely foreign to your tongue. “What's that supposed to mean?”
Darcy raises a brow. “You seriously don’t remember the Avengers? Earth’s mightiest heroes? You were part of a team that saved the world—multiple times.” She says it like it should trigger something, like the name alone should spark recognition. But it doesn’t. And already, you don’t like the sound of it.
You shake your head, lips pulling into a faint grimace. “Sounds like a PR stunt. If these so-called heroes are real, they shouldn't be worshipped like celebrities.”
Darcy chuckles softly. “You know what, you have a point there. But considering one of them is literally a god, it kinda leaves me, I mean us—with, you know—no choice.”
“One of them is a god?” 
“Yeah, Thor. Tall guy, wields a hammer, controls thunder. Ridiculously hot. Ring any bells?”
She might as well be describing a cartoon character. You run a hand through your hair before grabbing a fistful of it in frustration. “This is crazy.”
“It is,” Darcy agrees. “But that’s our world now, apparently.”
You take a deep breath. “If what you're saying is true—”
“I swear it is,” she insists.
“Then how did I end up here? Why would Wanda do this?”
Darcy sighs. “It’s a long story.”
You glance at your watch. It’s 11:05 in the evening. Wanda will be looking for you anytime soon.
“You have five minutes.”
“Where are my children?” Wanda demands, her eyes flashing dangerously.
“Where are my children?” Agatha imitates her like a parrot. “My, that accent does like to play hide and seek, doesn't it?”
“Where are they?” Wanda yells, throwing her hands up in front of her, ready for the offense. She summons her powers on Agatha, but nothing happens. The shimmering crimson she relies on fails to appear. Agatha relishes in it, letting out a boisterous giggle.
“Oh, your magic’s no good here,” Agatha reveals. 
Before Wanda can react, Agatha lifts her hands, and from her fingertips erupts a swirling purple energy that crackles through the air. In an instant, the magic lashes out, snapping around Wanda's wrists and ankles. With a sharp pull, Agatha yanks her forward, the force dragging Wanda off her feet and toward the center of the room. The bindings constrict, holding her limbs in place painfully, causing Wanda to squirm.
“Didn't you notice?” Agatha smirks haughtily. “On the walls? Basic protection spell. No? Nothing? These are runes, Wanda.”
Wanda glances around, her gaze falling upon the glowing inscriptions etched into the stone but they mean nothing to her. She struggles against the magical restraints, but the more she fights, the tighter they grip.
Agatha circles her, looking very much proud of herself. “In a given space, only the witch that cast the runes can use her magic. How do you not know the fundamentals?”
Runes? Fundamentals? Wanda narrows her eyes at Agatha. “Who are you?”
Agatha smirks, tossing the question back like a live grenade. “Who are you?” she challenges, staring down the bewildered, clueless witch before her.
Confusion flashes across Wanda's face. “What are you talking about?”
Agatha starts circling her, slow, like a vulture. “You've been pulling off magic tricks that take lifetimes to master—casting illusions, transmutation, hijacking minds. All on autopilot. Without any damn training. You will tell me how you did this.”
“I didn't do anything,” Wanda protests. “I'm not—”
That seems to shatter Agatha’s last ounce of patience. She flings Wanda back and forth like a ragdoll, each toss violent and jarring, until Wanda is back where she started, gasping for breath.
“I tried to be gentle, to nudge you awake from this pathetic daydream. But you'd rather fall apart than face your truth.”
Wanda clams up, unable to refute the other woman’s words. All of a sudden, Agatha yanks a hair from Wanda's head.
Clutching the strand, Agatha murmurs, “Revelare vitae memorias.” A purple aura envelops the hair as she weaves her spell.
Wanda tugs against the magical restraints binding her. “What are you doing?”
Agatha shrugs off the question, focused on completing her spell. She conjures a door on a previously bare wall, the surface pulsing with her energy. She flicks a strand of Wanda’s hair towards it, watching as the door swallows it and burns even brighter.
“Time for some real reruns.”
Darcy's theory seems just as absurd with the revelation that Wanda has been controlling the entire town this whole time.
“Faking my death and not being there for Wanda when she comes back just doesn't add up,” you say, kicking a stone as you pace in circles. Darcy sits on the pavement, watching as you wear a path in the ground.
“Why not?”
You stop pacing and look Darcy squarely in the eye. “Because I love her. She doesn't need to ‘kidnap’ me to stay with her.”
Darcy throws her hands up in exasperation, looking as lost as you feel. “Look, I don't know why Wanda brought you here! I don't know why you couldn't just be together in the real world or why she did this to Westview,” she walks closer to you. “I'm just as in the dark as you are.”
Her uncertainty only adds to your doubt. “Who are you anyway, Darcy Lewis? How did you even end up here?”
Darcy sighs, realizing she hadn't properly introduced herself or explained the situation right. “Okay, yeah, sorry. I'm…an astrophysicist. S.W.O.R.D—it’s a US government agency—contacted me more than a week ago about an anomaly in New Jersey. I was outside the Hex—this red barrier enclosing all of Westview—trying to figure out what's going on here. And then I got sucked in.”
“Sucked in? How does that happen?”
Darcy hangs back, weighing what's appropriate to share and what isn't. The image of you dying mere seconds after you emerged from the barrier seems to straddle both categories, but given the incredulous way you're looking at her—as if she's sprouted ten heads—signals your dwindling trust. If she doesn’t talk soon, she might just lose this rare opportunity to get you to their side.
She signals you to take a sit on the ground first, but you merely stare at her, waiting.  “Well, it's complicated,” Darcy starts. “But before I ended up here, I saw something you need to know.”
“Go on,” you say cautiously.
She takes a deep breath. “You were dying.”
Your eyes widen. “What?”
“Last night, you tried to cross the boundary of the Hex,” she explains. “But as soon as you did, you started disintegrating—turning into dust.”
You stop cold. That dream where Wanda was vanishing—
Was it you all along?
Darcy continues, “We didn't know what to do, how to help you. But then the Hex started expanding—fast. I couldn't escape, and now here I am.”
You barely register her words as you try to piece together your memory of last night. Is that why you felt déjà vu on the way here? Because you've been here before? Because you've actually been outside?
Could Wanda be the reason you can't recall what Darcy claims happened last night? Has your wife really been manipulating you? Using her powers to deceive you?
“No,” you shake your head firmly. Wanda wouldn't do that to you, wouldn't impose her will on you, let alone on thousands of people.
“I'm sorry,” Darcy murmurs, her voice low. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I wish I was lying, but I swear I’m not.”
“Prove it,” you demand, in a last, desperate attempt to cling to the life you've built here with Wanda, to preserve the trust you've placed in the person who means the world to you.
“Fine,” Darcy exhales sharply, pausing to think for a moment. “I got it!”
You cross your arms, waiting expectantly.
“Do you remember your assistant, Geraldine?” she asks.
The fact that Darcy knows about her already turns your stomach. It means she wasn't lying about the broadcasts outside, where people have been monitoring the situation all this time.
You nod, unable to speak. The fear grips you so tightly you worry you might lose the dinner you had just an hour ago.
“Geraldine isn't who you think she is. Her real name is Monica Rambeau. She's an agent from S.W.O.R.D., sent here to investigate what's happening inside Westview.”
“That doesn't make sense. I've known Geraldine for months—”
“Have you?” Darcy counters gently. “Think about it. Can you recall anything about her life outside of work? Her family? Where she lives?”
You open your mouth to respond but realize you can't summon any details. It's as if those memories are just... missing. 
Just like every other little detail in your life.
“I… I can’t—”
Darcy nods sympathetically. “That's because you’re all just playing a role here. Monica tried to reach out to her, to help her see what's real, but Wanda forced her out of this reality.”
Geraldine's resignation is a vague memory, nothing more. If Wanda has been pulling the strings, she's been selective with the memories she's allowed you to keep. That much is certain.
And you’re conflicted. No, that’s not quite right—you’re overwhelmed. You feel betrayed, most prominently. But beneath that, there’s guilt. Deep down, you’re troubled by the thought of how much pain Wanda must have endured to go to such lengths. It pains you too, knowing she suffered so greatly. If this isn't going away anytime soon, that means she's still hurting. And if you're going to agree to help Darcy figure this out, you’re going to do it for Wanda’s sake, not theirs.
Making this decision would be simple if not for—
You look down, your voice barely above a whisper. “And our kids? Billy and Tommy?”
Darcy looks away. “We couldn't find any records of them,” she says. “They're not documented anywhere in Westview.”
A sinking feeling grips your chest. “They're our sons—they're real.”
Darcy doesn’t say anything. Your eyes begin to sting as you walk into the middle of the deserted road.
You're not sure how long you stood there, contemplating the plight of these innocent people and the dangers looming over your family beyond this town. You gaze at the wedding ring on your finger. Being Wanda’s wife brought you nothing but joy. Being a mother to your two boys made you feel whole. Can you really let all that go?
Just as Darcy is about to check on you, having waited a while, you catch her off guard by walking back.
“What do you need me to do?”
Wanda's eyes dart around. “No... not here,” she whispers, recognizing her childhood home.
She thought those memories were lost—how a seemingly ordinary evening spiraled, altering her life forever. Seeing her mama and papa’s faces is a miracle in itself. Wanda had forgotten their features, unable to carry even a photograph of them for so long.
And Pietro—god, how she's missed him. He was the last sliver of Sokovia, the last piece of home she clung to before becoming an orphan in every sense of the word.
Life was simple then. It wasn’t always comfortable or peaceful, but they were happy as long as the four of them were together. 
Wanda watches on, a helpless spectator as the mundane scene before her—an evening of sitcoms on the living room floor—is shattered by an explosion before the screen cuts to black.
She squeezes her eyes shut. When she dares to look again, devastation greets her. Her younger self and Pietro huddled under rubble, a Stark Industries missile mere feet away, its ominous beeping the only sound in the deafening silence.
Agatha muses, “You stared at that bomb, waiting for it to go off. Did you use a probability hex?”
“No, I…” Wanda blinks, her mind reeling . “It just never went off. It was defective. We didn’t know that. We were… we were trapped.”
“For how long?”
“Two days.”
Agatha hums, sizing up whether this incident had any real impact on Wanda’s recent exploits.  Despite the trauma Wanda has endured, Agatha remains skeptical, and she steers them down another bend in memory lane.
From afar, another room takes shape—the Hydra facility, where she first encountered the Infinity Stone. 
“I don’t want to go back in there.”
“The only way forward is back,” comes the terse reply.
Jimmy and Monica sit side by side on a surprisingly comfortable pile of hay inside one of the supply rooms of the camp, their wrists shackled behind them with cuffs this time.
“Well, at least Hayward splurged on the good hay,” Jimmy attempts at a joke, trying to twist his wrists free.
“Yeah, cause the next time I see him, I’ll be shoving them up his—” Monica bites her lip. Now’s not the time to think about all the ways she’ll make Hayward pay. Right now, their priority is getting out of these cuffs.
Reaching into his sleeve, Jimmy fumbles for a hidden pin. “Got a lockpick here. Just give me a sec—almost…”
She watches as he struggles to maneuver the pin into the cuff's lock, his fingers slipping. After several failed attempts, he lets out a frustrated huff.
“Here, let me try,” Monica says, scooting closer.
“Be my guest,” Jimmy says, sliding over the pin.
Monica grabs it, fingers deft and sure. A soft click follows. In a flash, she's free, reaching over to unlock Jimmy's cuffs.
“Impressive,” he remarks, rubbing his wrists.
“Years of field training.”
Jimmy fishes out his cellphone. “Guess they missed this in the pat-down.” He punches in a number. “Calling for backup from Quantico.”
He steps aside, murmuring into the phone, while Monica edges towards the door. She presses an ear against the rough wood, listening hard.
“Any luck?” she murmurs as he ends the call.
“They're sending a team, but we're on borrowed time,” he whispers back.
“Listen,” Monica says suddenly, holding up a hand.
Silence falls. There’s a muffled sound of chaos outside—high-pitched voices, scrambling footsteps, panicked commands. 
“Is that... fighting?” Jimmy's eyes go wide.
“Sounds like it,” Monica says. “But who would be engaging Hayward's agents out here?”
“Maybe another S.W.O.R.D. team?”
She shakes her head. “Unlikely. They trust Hayward too much to send more scouts.”
The clamor grows—a cocktail of grunts, barked orders, and the dull thud of bodies smacking the ground. And then guns firing off nearby.
“This is bad,” Jimmy mutters. “We're sitting ducks. Unarmed ducks.”
Monica's gaze sweeps the area. “We need to find something to defend ourselves.” She snags a rusted metal rod from beside a stack of crates and hands it to Jimmy. “Here.”
He grabs it, his grip firm. “Better than nothing.”
She hoists a solid-looking plank. “Stay alert.”
Suddenly, the outside noises cut off, dropping the world into unnerving stillness.
“Why did it just go quiet?” Jimmy whispers.
Monica takes an offensive stance. “I don't know, but I have a feeling we're about to find out.”
Footsteps draw near—steady, unhurried. The door handle rattles slightly.
“Get ready,” she says, positioning herself beside the door.
Jimmy nods, holding his makeshift weapon at the ready.
The door creaks open slowly, and a sliver of light spills inside. They hold their breath as the door swings wider.
A shadowy figure looms at the threshold, silhouetted against the harsh daylight. Without waiting to see if this was a friend or an enemy, Monica lunges forward, swinging her plank toward the intruder. Jimmy follows suit, thrusting his metal rod in a coordinated attack.
But the figure dodges their attack like they're made of smoke. With a fluid sidestep, you evade Monica's swing, the plank slicing harmlessly through the air. Simultaneously, you pivot gracefully, ducking under Jimmy's thrust. In one seamless motion, you sweep your leg, knocking the rod from his grasp and sending it clattering across the floor. 
Before they can regroup, you're behind Monica, coaxing her wrist until the plank clunks to the ground with a dull thud. Both agents stumble back, dumbstruck.
Monica’s about to charge again when you raise your hands. 
“Easy,” you say hurriedly. “I’m not here to fight.”
Jimmy looks at you with utter shock and awe. “How did you—”
You smile thinly. “No time for explanations.”
Monica squints, peering harder. Something clicks. “Wait... Are you Y/N?” she murmurs in disbelief.
Recognition dawns on Jimmy’s face too. “It is you!”
You nod slowly. “I am.”
Monica keeps searching your face, like she's double-checking if it's really you. There are small differences between this you and the one in the Hex—your hair's shorter, framing a face that's sharper with…age. The lines around your eyes are deeper, and there's a hardness in them now that wasn’t there before.
“Wait, how did you escape the Hex unharmed?” Jimmy asks. “The last time you tried, it looked like you weren’t going to make it…”
You shake your head. “I didn't escape from Westview.”
“What do you mean?” Monica asks. “You're inside the Hex with Wanda, aren't you?"
“No,” you reply evenly. “That wasn’t—isn’t me.”
Just then, footsteps approach from behind. You spin around to see Clint, his bow slung casually over his shoulder.
“Well, that was quick,” you note.
He smirks lightly. “It would've been quicker if I weren’t so rusty.”
“Clint, is it true what she's saying?” Monica asks.
Clint nods solemnly. “Yeah. I made a rookie mistake by not considering the possibility that the Y/N in Westview and out here in the real world aren’t one and the same.”
Jimmy looks baffled. “Wait, what do you mean?”
“When I saw Y/N on that broadcast, I assumed she was inside the Hex. But when we saw the one from Westview disintegrating after she emerged from the barrier, that’s when I realized that something else was going on here.”
Jimmy's face screws up in confusion. “Then who was that?”
You lean back against the wall, a wistful look in your eye. “Based on what Clint told me, she's both me and not me.”
Jimmy throws up his hands. “I'm getting confused.”
“That's Wanda's version of me—the person she left behind five years ago,” you say.
Monica's eyes stretch wide as the penny drops. Is Wanda that powerful to be capable of what you’re implying?
“When you say she's Wanda's version...” She trails off, not confident to finish the thought.
“Wanda created her,” you say, as casual as if you were commenting on the weather. “Wanda doesn't know I'm still alive.”
“Exposure to an Infinity Stone,” Agatha muses, eyeing the memory of Wanda clad in a grimy gown that the Hydra facility dressed her into. She grimaces slightly. “That explains some of it, but not all.”
With a subtle gesture of her hand, another door materializes—a portal to another place, another time. Another memory—but this time, not a painful one. Wanda doesn't hesitate this time and walks towards it. There’s no choice in the matter, really. Might as well get it over with.
Behind the door is a well-lit kitchen. The countertops were sleek and clean, aside from an open jar of peanut butter and a half-empty jar of jelly sitting next to a loaf of bread. A butter knife rested on a plate smeared with both spreads, and a glass of water sat nearby, condensation pooling in a faint ring on the stone surface.
You were standing at the large kitchen island, carefully cutting the corners of your sandwich when Vision phased directly through the wall to your left.
“Jesus!” you yelled in surprise, the knife slipping from your hand and clattering against the plate.
“Well, well,” Agatha drawls, leaning back with an amused smirk as she turns to Wanda. “I must admit, I never pictured her as the type to take the Lord’s name in vain. Your wife looks like such a proper lady here in Westview, dear.”
Wanda remains motionless, her entire focus on you as this memory comes rushing back to her.  You weren’t even friends yet, and Wanda had already noticed how distant you kept yourself from her. It wasn’t hostility, exactly, but it was clear you didn’t like her much back then. And she couldn’t blame you.
“My apologies,” Vision said.
You scolded him for announcing himself that way before he formally introduced himself to you. With a sigh, you told him you already knew who he was. Without missing a beat, Vision asked what food you were preparing.
“It's a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
“The coloration is intriguing,” Vision noted. “I haven't encountered many purple foods in my lifetime.”
To Agatha, the exchange seems utterly trivial—and not to mention, boring. Yet, it only makes her more curious about why this particular memory has surfaced.
“Speaking of food,” Vision began, “Miss Maximoff hasn’t eaten. Nothing in over twelve hours.”
You were just about to take your first bite, but the mention of Wanda made you freeze.
“And why is that my problem?”
“Given that her quarters are adjacent to yours, I thought you might be concerned,” Vision said.
“Concerned? About the person who messed with my head? Hard pass.”
“Oh,” Agatha chimes in, continuing her unsolicited commentary. “Was your wife not particularly fond of you in the beginning?”
Wanda shakes her head slowly. “She hated me.”
Agatha’s grin widens. “And that drew you to her? Well, aren’t we a little kinky.”
The memory continues with Vision gently reprimanding you about the poisonous effects of resentment. You brushed it off with a sharp retort, making it abundantly clear just how little you cared.
Vision didn’t press the matter further. “Very well. If you’ll excuse me.”
He turned to leave, this time opting for the doorway instead of phasing through the wall. 
“Wait,” you called out, piquing Agatha’s interest.
Vision stopped, looking back at you expectantly.
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Look, just... take her something to eat. Here.” You shoved the sandwich plate toward him.
“It might be more meaningful if you delivered it yourself.”
“Yeah, that's not happening.”
He accepted the plate. “I will relay the gesture.”
“Don’t,” you rushed out. “I mean, don’t tell her it’s from me.”
Agatha scoffs like she’s watching a bad rom-com. “Enemies to lovers. My personal favorite,” she says, smirking. “Two people who can’t stand each other but still do nice things behind each other’s backs. Adorable, really.”
“She didn’t know I was there, watching the whole exchange,” Wanda says softly. “I went back to my room that night, eagerly waiting for Vision to bring me that sandwich. I was so hungry.” Her voice grows even quieter as she adds, “Y/N was the first person to do anything for me after my brother died. And she didn’t even like me.”
Agatha snaps her fingers, then gives Wanda a hard look. “Here’s the punchline, honey: you come back from the Snap—five years gone in a blink for you—and guess what? Y/N didn’t make it.”
Wanda looks stunned by the reminder that in the five years she was gone, she couldn’t shield you, couldn’t stop your demise. Clint kept silent on how it happened, and even when Wanda defiantly probed his mind, she found no clues about your death.
“She was gone,” Agatha says, circling around to meet Wanda's gaze. “But you wanted her back.”
Almost reflexively, Wanda nods. “I did,” she murmurs. “I wanted her back.”
The segment shifts seamlessly to a serene lakeside setting. It's a somber day—the day of Tony Stark's funeral. Wanda of this memory stood alone, gaze lost on the serene water, while members of the Avengers paid their subdued respects to Pepper Potts in a slow procession.
It’s Clint who noticed she’d been standing there a long time already. 
“Hey,” he murmured, the nippy weather forcing his hands in his pockets as he joined Wanda’s side. “You holding up okay?”
Wanda smiled faintly. “As well as can be expected.”
He nodded, sharing her view of the gray lake. “It’s tough, losing someone like Tony. Feels like we’ve been bleeding pieces of ourselves.”
Wanda sighed. “But it's not just Tony, isn’t it?” This funeral should’ve also been for everyone they lost. Natasha, Vision…
You.
“Counting our losses would just do us more harm than good, kid,” Clint said.
She gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug. “I just... I miss them.”
Clint's hand found her shoulder. “I get it. I miss them too.” 
Wanda drew a ragged breath, but these days, it felt like no amount of air was enough.  
“All I've ever known is loss,” she whispered. “You'd think I'd be used to it by now, that it wouldn't hurt as much as when I lost my parents, or Pietro. But this…” Her voice faltered. “Losing Y/N cut the deepest.”
Clint squeezed her shoulder. It’s meant to be comforting but Wanda felt nothing. 
“I’m sorry, kid.”
“I shouldn’t have been brought back,” Wanda said, stepping back, causing Clint’s hand to fall away.
“Don't say that. Y/N would've done everything for you to come back,” he said.
She turned to him, tears brimming in her eyes. “And I would've done everything I could for her to still be here—with me.”
Wanda watches herself in the memory, turning her back on Clint without a word. She didn’t say goodbye to anyone. Didn’t pay her respects to Stark’s widow. She slipped into the driver’s seat of the car you used to own after Clint turned it over to her.
The road led her to a quiet cemetery not too far away. She parked along a gravel path and walked among the rows of headstones until she reached yours. Seeing your name etched in stone brought a fresh wave of grief crashing over her.
Dropping to her knees, Wanda was wracked with sobs, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. She cried until the tears refused to come, her body spent from the depth of her grief. Hours seemed to pass before she finally rose, shaky and streaked with tears. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and headed back to the car. Slumping into the driver's seat, she allowed herself a few more moments of inaction. In search of some small comfort, she flipped open the glove compartment and fished out your favorite CD.
As she rummaged through the assorted items, her fingers brushed against an unfamiliar envelope tucked at the back. Intrigued, she pulled it out and examined it. Her name was written on the front in your unmistakable handwriting.
With hands that trembled like leaves, she tore it open. Inside, there was a simple, elegant ring—the one she bought for you—and a folded brochure. It’s a map of a small New Jersey town. A plot of land was circled in aggressive red, and in a heart-shaped scribbled below, you've written, Where Maximoff will torment me for the rest of our days.
A smile, bittersweet and crooked, crawled its way to her face. The idea of a future you’d dared to dream together flooded her with both joy and heartache. 
Compelled by a sudden urge to see this dream firsthand, Wanda started the car and set off towards New Jersey. The journey passed in a blur, her mind occupied with thoughts of what could have been. Hours later, she arrived at the ghostly town, its structures forgotten in time, lagging behind the rest of the world by at least a decade.
Following the map, she drove to the marked lot—a field overrun with wildflowers and framed by a quaint white picket fence. She walked to the center of the lot, your ring clenched tight in her fist. As the sun dipped low, it draped everything in a golden light. Right then, the full weight of her pain hit her like a freight train.
And when it happened, it started with a tingling sensation at the back of her neck, a subtle prickling that grew into an all-consuming fervor. Beneath her, the earth whispered of transformations, subtle yet insistent, as reality bended, acquiescing to the sheer force of her will. 
Her powers gradually rose, a resurgent tide swelling from the emptiness that had, until this moment, consumed her. She released a primal scream as she unknowingly reshaped her surroundings—houses and streets morphed, relationships and identities changed—all molded from her memories and desires. Even the very colors of reality altered around her.
But she paid no heed to the unprecedented heights of her abilities. Her only focus was the release—the desperate emptying of her being, striving to purge the agonizing pain she’d felt since discovering you were gone.
With each exertion, she felt a piece of herself ebbing away, her essence—bright and golden—intertwining with the magic, seeping into the reality she molded. The pain was exquisite, an acute contrast to the numbness that had pervaded her existence since her return. She welcomed it, the pain confirming her existence, her agency, her power after so much had been taken from her.
As the final tendrils of red weaved the last of her into this new Westview, she felt a climactic release, as if she’d finally exhaled a burden she could no longer bear. She collapsed, the world spinning dizzyingly around her, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. The town pulsed—tentatively, like the first steps of a newborn—with life, a life that was both not hers and wholly of her making.
She lay on the ground, which had metamorphosed from the soft, dewy texture of soil to the cool, smooth tiles of a pristine living room. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, bracing for the afterlife, when—
Wanda gasped, her eyes instantly watering at the sight of you, unchanged, just as she remembered before the snap, before the world fell apart. Disbelief coursed through her, yet she couldn’t look away from the miracle of you, standing there within her reach.
“Wanda,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. Extending a hand, you helped her to her feet, her left hand—adorned with a simple gold band—shaking as it met yours. 
“Welcome home.”
A fragile smile began to trace her lips for the first time since her return. With your hand in hers, she stood at the threshold of her new home, crafted from all of her pieces.
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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 months ago
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Courage
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1k
Warnings: fluff
Summary: You ask Spencer for help studying for an exam, and the evening takes a turn for the better.
Square Filled: lab partners for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3
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You’re not a field agent and you have no desire to be one, but you are the team’s liaison which you do very well. JJ was the one who taught you when she left on maternity leave, and you stayed because she left for the Pentagram soon after. She’s back now but as a profiler, and now the position is permanently yours.
The entire team had been so welcoming when you first started, and now they’re like your second family. They are all so sweet and kind, but Spencer stands out from the rest like a sore thumb. He’s different than anyone you’ve ever met, and that includes all of your exes. He allows you to be yourself completely without having to fake anything, and he’s such a sweetheart. Not to mention he’s super handsome and smart.
He not only helps you with day-to-day struggles but also with your school work. Some might not think it’s normal to pursue a degree in your thirties, but the FBI has been a lot of help in that department. You can go to school while they pay for it, and you can earn a degree in your field of choice. While being a liaison for the team is a dream, it’s not what you want to do in life.
You love everything chemistry and have already dreamed of being a chemist for the FBI. Spencer has a PhD in chemistry so he’s the best person to ask for help. You don’t think he minds because he always does it with a smile on his face.
You walk through the empty bullpen and find Spencer by the file cabinets putting away past files he was working on.
“Hey, Spence.”
“Hey, Y/N,” he smiles. “What’s up?”
“Are you busy this weekend? Say, Saturday?
You miss the way his eyes light up at the mention of hanging out with you alone. He clears his throat and shakes his head while putting away the files. “No. I have no plans.”
“Great. Can you come over and help me study for this exam?”
You do notice the way his shoulders drop slightly, but he still has a smile on his face.
“Yes, I can.”
“Come over around noon? I can get us some lunch.” He nods and you kiss his cheek .”Thank you, Spencer. You’re the best.”
Spencer watches you walk off with metaphorical hearts in his eyes. Derek passes by you to get to the young doctor, and Spencer quickly looks away in hopes he isn’t caught.
“When are you gonna ask her out?”
Spencer blushes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Spencer, that girl is into you. She doesn’t kiss anyone else on the cheek. Think about it.”
And Spencer does. He thinks about you the entire day. He thinks about you for the rest of the week. By the time Saturday comes along, his head hurts at the possibility that this weekend can go. Derek’s right. He’s seen the signs from you even if you don’t know you’re doing it. You’re both in your mid-thirties so there’s no need to be beating around the bush. He invited you over to his house instead of going to yours, so you’re bringing over a bunch of study materials for you two to go over.
This exam is one of the big ones, so you have to pass it.
“Hey, Spence,” you greet when he answers the door. “Thank you for doing this with me.”
“It’s no problem, really,” he smiles. “Come in.”
You bring the supplies to his room where he already has snacks, bottles of water, and books set up. He kept his textbooks from when he got his PhD, so you’ll be able to use them as well. The first hour goes great. You’ve answered all his questions right and even got candy as a reward. The second hour is a bit tougher but you powered through it with his protein bars and water. The third hour, however, is kicking your ass. You’ve been studying for quite some time now so your brain hurts.
“Okay, can you tell me the answer to this question?”
Spencer writes on the small whiteboard before showing you the equation. You take out your notebook and jot it down before trying to work on it. You learned this in class last week but for some reason, it’s not clicking in your mind. You wince when you turn the notebook around for Spencer to read, and based on the unsure look on his face, you know you’ve failed it.
“Don’t worry, you’ll get the next one.”
“I’m going to fail this test and this class. The deeper we get into the textbook, the harder the concept. I’m not going to be a chemist for the FBI. It’s hopeless,” you sigh and toss your notebook to the side.
“No, don’t think like that. What you need is a break.” He suddenly becomes nervous. “Why don’t we take a movie break? You can pick what we watch.”
“And you won’t complain?”
“I promise,” he chuckles.
“Okay. You’re right. We’ve been going at this for hours.” You get up and grab the remote to turn the TV on, but frown when it doesn’t. “It’s not working.” You turn it over and open the back to see the batteries are missing. “Where are your batteries?”
He wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. “In the kitchen.”
You walk to the kitchen and search through the drawers for them. You open the last one and see a note wrapped around the case. You remove two batteries for the remote and take the note out. You shouldn’t be snooping like this through his business but the note has your name on it.
Y/N, I should have done this face-to-face, but I get so nervous whenever I try to find the words. I really like you, like more than a friend, like. I should ask you on a date first, but will you be my girlfriend?
You turn only to find Spencer standing right behind you. The poor thing looks so nervous that you’re going to reject him. He must have not gotten the best responses in the past. That changes now. You drop the note and fling into his arms happily. He catches you before you can tumble to the ground, and you pull him in close.
“Yes!”
You pepper his cheek with kisses and he laughs. He has to remind himself to thank Derek for giving him the courage.
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astropookie · 1 year ago
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Mars/mars pc astro observations bc yes
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jjk
*birth chart + tropical
I’ve noticed you can spend more time with people who have the same sign mars as you or you can feel more comfortable, daah.
mars trine saturn are so fucking loyal to what they’re archiving, they take their time, they could be fucked up on following other things but when they have something in mind, they’ll do it.
scorpio mars could be synonym of transformation, sadly this people could have had a special person in their life who was going through a rough time and they were by their side, scorpio mars not knowing what to do with all that amount of energy, feeling guilty and desperate. they could have been used to an anxious environment.
aquarius mars stop being so concerned and furious when you don’t understand others behavior, not everything is logic. I get it, you’re aware of how people act and how things work but that doesn’t mean you have to act like that to feel accepted -don’t take this seriously-. also, you look cute when you’re feeling yourself💋🎀
6H mars ik it’s daily for you, being mad and everyone noticing but you, or you’re not mad and everyone thinks you are? don’t get mad if I don’t left something you let me in the same way you gave it to me!! -exaggeratedly-. Don’t get mad if we’re not as organized as you!! don’t put your energy on those things, being mad on little details
mars at 5°, 17° or 29° (leo degree) STOP WITH THE PRIDEFUL ATTITUDE, you can’t even apologize wisely
mars at 9° or 21° (sagittarius degree) YOU CAN’T TAKE THINGS SERIOUSLY when they’re confronting your unserious attitude or EVER. you look like a little kid trying to scape, STOP. “You thought..”, then look at the consequences. too chill for my patience. -thinking of someone while typing-
3H mars why do they have to have the same taste in music as you so you’ll immediately find them attractive? or them having the same interests as you -same favorite movie, series, etc-. also they could be dorks 🤓☝️
mars opposition jupiter makes people who have this aspect feeling they’re stuck on their process of their goal/dream, they could feel they’re constantly in the process and not identifying their progress or the positive aspects. they could feel really insecure/have a low self stem, comparing themselves with others. they could be seem as too idealistic.
when you’re mad with libra mars they can have a “I did nothing incorrect/wrong” attitude, they could even ask “when did I did that? Prove it”, like you remember every detail like them 😒
8H mars are MOODY, they have to do what they want and often base their decisions on how they feel. they don’t force things, they do how they feel. when they were children, they could have been seen as aggressive or unstoppable? unpredictable
sun square mars screams issues with your dad or the opinion of your dad and how he does things has/have had a lot of impact on your life and identity, way of proceeding. impulsive and gets excited like a kid when you give them a candy, oh but when you take it away…RUN.
as a mars at 10° or 22° (capricorn degree), yes I feel the need to be in charge -boss around-, I’m learning to not want/understand I don’t have to be in control every fucking time 😏 In every aspect. 
I’m still thinking virgo mars is the most resentful of all of them. they’ll do ANYTHING to protect their loved ones, they do everything they can to try to understand them, they’re so DEDICATED. it’s an honor to be one of their few special persons.
mars at 3°, 15° or 27° (gemini degree) LOVES, NEEDS to receive affirmations about how good they’re, in bed. a “I love your ass” will be a motivation to do more things…again, if it’s not in bed, they need to know how they’re doing things, they need communication to feel secure or that they’re doing it good.
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mars persona chart*
gemini 5H in mars persona chart indicates is fucking hilarious/fun for you to tease people. how, when and what you talk, you do it on purpose, to see how far someone patience can last or to analyze their reactions. in every aspect. you can have a way with words that helps you to initiate things easily in bed.
cancer 6H in mars pc can mean you have to feel you like the sport you’re about to do to actually have motivation and be constant with it. for example, I started going to gym bc a friend was practically asking every day if I could be her gym partner, I didn’t want to and when I finally went was bc principally she was gonna be there, I emphasize with her and had to do something for my mental health -everyone was mentioning I had to-, not bc I like to do sport? Or going to the gym? I like how I’m feeling?😭 idk how to explain it.
aries venus in mars pc yes we know people who are horny makes you horny. you love how focused are on their life and how much they think on what they can do next, that they’re not wasting their time. it makes you wet 😝 that they get mad over little things and that they’re direct and a little idiots to process things.
taurus mercury in mars pc are so possessive, they want to know if you’re about to come and to affirm it, to tell them they made you feel so good to then choke you. they want proves on how good they’re doing it and how they can be better.
cancer mars in mars pc can be turned on whatever has to do with a mother figure 😭 or what’s seen as feminine? But more on a mother way. for example, if someone is taking care of them unconditionally and has this cancer aspect -big boobs, round face, innocent eyes- they’ll imagine being taken care in another way later
mars-uranus aspects in mars pc is attracted/turned on to people who are rejected by society, someone who is seemed as rebel or does change. not necessarily they have to be part of a social movement but since little details. for example, what’s rejected by conservative people, piercings 😝 an unique way of standing for themselves, etc.
neptune 1H in mars pc: you feel yourself with the unexpected. you even get horny?😭 your personality could be even unexpected.
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♡ Based on personal experience and what I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.
♡ English is not my first language.
♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.
Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋
Do not copy. Please give me credits
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1pepsiboy · 10 months ago
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Just Like A Movie (Matt Sturniolo fluff)
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Description: After a morning of fliming, Matt wants to enjoy fall activites with his girlfriend (reader). Inspired the song by the Wallows and Matt's love for fall time.
Word count: 1.4K
Warnings: None, just fluffy and silly Matt!
A/N: This is my first Matt writing, so sorry if it's not totally accurate! Lol I do requests! Currently anything Chris, Matt, Nick, and Colby!
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Matt, Chris, and Nick were filming a guess 21 different halloween candies challenge. You sat on the couch behind the camera, scrolling through your phone but periodically looked up to glance at your boyfriend. Who would cheese when you did. Sometimes you'd make a silly face or comment, distracting him enough they'd have to restart part of the segment. Finally, they finish and Matt was the one closest to getting them all right. It wasn't surprising since he'd won guessing 21 different drinks.
Matt makes his way to the couch and wrapped his arms around you immediately. He nustles his head into your shoulder for a couple minutes and you run your fingertips up and down his back. Then he gives you a quick peck on the lips, mostly because Nick and Chris were still in the kitchen and they would make jokes about it.
You lick your lips and furrow your brows. "Hmm... I taste Snickers? No, Reese's?"
"(y/n)!" Matt whines lightly.
"Wait, wait, wait." You kiss his soft lips again. "It's Kitkat!"
A giggle escapes Matt and he lightly rolls his blue eyes. "Can we go do fall things, babe? Get away from those idiots over there. I've had enough of them today."
Nick flips him off as Chris fake laughs and makes a face. "So unoriginal Matt."
Now you roll your eyes. "Let's leave these losers to their lame things."
----
"I can drive if you want, babe," you suggest as you make it out the door after Matt changed his outfit to fit the vibe more. It's early afternoon now and barely a breeze to make it feel like a real fall day.
He shoots you a side smile and unclips the keys from his jean beltloop. "No, that's okay, I don't mind."
The two of you get comfortable in the front seats, starting up the recent playlist you created.
"Where to first?" you ask.
"What about... apple patch? Wait, I mean pumpkin picking... Fuck, I mean apple picking and then a pumpkin patch."
You reach out and lace your fingers with his. "I'd love to go to an apple patch and pumpkin picking. Maybe hot cocoa after?"
He nods and you put in the directions for the nearest apple picking farm. The two of you sing along. And you couldn't help pointing out people going about their daily lives. It takes up most of your conversation before you arrive at the farm.
Matt locks the car before he clips them back on the their loop and takes your hand. The apple farm was free to anyone, but they had a jar and square for donations/tips. You take out your card for them to do a $5 donation, and Matt doubles the amount.
You take a small basket and pull him over to one of the trees. Unfortunately most of the reachable ones were picked. But both of you still attempt to get one or two by running and jumping. You know you look like idiots, however you didn't care.
Matt gets a video of you as you finally acquire an apple and show it triumphantly. "That's right. No tree is a match for me! This apple is my bitch." You bite a chunk of the crispy green apple.
Matt laughs. "Babe, we're supposed to save them to make caramel apples!"
Your eyes go wide and you laugh as you chew it to a point you could speak. "Sorry, I can get another one."
He slips his phone back into his pocket as he shakes his head. "Let's try a different tree.
The second tree was a similar situation despite it just being on the brink of fall. There were a lot of early birds.
This time you get a story of Matt snagging two apples and he tries to not show how out of breath he is. "Ahh! Hah! I got some."
The two of you try two more trees and manage to get a few more.
There was a station for you to either bag them right away or make them caramel or chocolate covered before leaving. You spend far too long deciding on how many should be caramel and chocolate, and what toppings should be on them. You think of each brother and friend that'll want one. By the end, there's only one left and neither of you made one for yourselves.
"You choose," Matt says, kissing your cheek.
With creative intuition, you make it half and half, then smear all sorts of toppings on it and present it. Matt rests his hand on top of yours and takes a bite out of it.
"Mm..." he nods and runs a half through his hair, most of falling back in place. "I like what you did with the caramel and chocolate."
You take your own, attempting to lick the excess off around your mouth. "Delicious."
Your next stop was at a nearby pumpkin patch, which was also a little picked over. But there were still enough to enjoy and walk around a little bit. You pick up a few of the biggest ones you could find to get photos with.
Matt pulls you in for a selfie. His eyes squint as the sun is directly in your eyes and fumbles backwards. This causes him to run into a bundle of baby pumpkins and his butt lands on top of the stems.
"Fucking shit!" He groans as he holds onto his ass and rolls over on the ground.
You hold back a laugh and help him up. He paces back and forth a couple times.
"I'm done with the pumpkins," he sulks.
"Let's get hot cocoa to make it all better," you baby, jutting out your bottom lip.
He tries not to laugh but it didn't work.
----
You enjoy a small walk as you sip on hot cocoa, the sun starts to go down. You hold the to-go cup tightly between your palms in the hopes to warm up your hands. You forgot to bring any sort of warm layer. Once the sun is gone, it feels like fall now.
Matt shoots you a concerned look. "Are you cold, babe?"
"A little, yeah," you laugh under your breath.
"Here, wear my sweater, (y/n)."
"No, it's fine."
It's too late, he already took his jacket off and pulls the vintage sweater over his head. You take the sweater and tug it over your short sleeve tee. The warmth of the material and from him wearing it all afternoon engulfs your entire body. It sends shivers down your spine from the temperature adjustment.
Matt has his jacket back on and wraps his arms around you, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. He kisses the crook of your neck. "Better?"
"Absolutely."
The two of you reminisce on your adventures of the day. Ultimately, though, it leads back to a few of the couples around you in the park. One were unashamedly having a full on make out session underneath a tree. Another were taking cutesy photos in matching outfits.
"You'll never catch us doing that," Matt comments.
You raise your eyebrows at him. "Did you forget the matching pj pants we had for christmas last year?"
"That doesn't count," he scoffs lightly. "It was only pants. I mean, like, top, pants, accessories, the whole fit. It's just cringy."
You giggle. "Whatever you say, Matty B."
"It is! Are you saying you want to do that?" He sips on his hot cocoa. "Cause that might be a deal breaker."
"Not seriously. More in an ironic way. Like those people on tiktok doing the 80s style photoshoots at JcPenny. Now that would be fun and not cringy!"
He shook his head. "No, nope."
"Come on!" you argue. "Think about the memories we could make!"
"Absolutely not, it would be embarrasing."
You roll your eyes. "That's kind of the point, babe."
"Still," he retorts.
"Fine." You sigh lightly. "I'll just ask Chris to do it with me. He won't care."
Matt shrugs, finishing the last of his drink, and tosses it into the nearest trash can. "Okay, you two have fun with that."
"We will." You do the same with your drink.
You sense Matt's a little down now and force him into a hug. "Thanks for today, babe. You're the best."
He falls into your body more and lets out a deep breath. "Any time, (y/n)."
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ichigo-dream · 2 years ago
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Leon Kennedy - Eating Headcannons (SFW + NSFW)
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Dream and I were having a drinks sesh cause the weather is good with us atm, and we ended up having a full discussion about Leon and eating. We were discussing the criteria to qualify as what we have coined a “neo fem-boy”, and how Leon has a lilll bit of squish to him despite the muscle - cause baby boy likes to EAT (both figuratively and metaphorically). Leon canonically put on 40 lbs of pure muscle between RE 2 and RE 4, yet he still somehow looks a lil bit soft and squishy soooooo we had to write this shit down.
Basically we just wanna eat up soft Leon, enjoy~
SFW
It's established canon that this man wants dinner all the time (see Leon in Infinite Darkness and Damnation)
This boy is hobbit-coded - baby boy needs at least three square meals a day - we’re talking full fry up in the morning, actual lunch and a spread for dinner. Might even squeeze in brunch and supper while he’s at it.
Snack, snacks, snacks - always snacking on something.
Having low blood sugar and being in a relationship with Leon is a match made in Heaven.
Lil baby has a sweet tooth
His jacket and coat pockets will always have some form of sweet in them - gum, lollipops, hard boiled sweets, Tiic Tacs, jawbreakers,
Any time you’re in the car together or watching a film, you can hear the hard sugar shell clacking against his teeth.
Will hide food, and eat in bed - you get into bed after a long day and when your head hits the pillow, you’ll hear a plastic rustle. Reaching under you’ll find a half-eaten packet of cookies or biscuits he’d been snacking on earlier that he had shoved under your pillow.
Will finish your food for you
Birthdays are his fav - any excuse to have cake this boy will use it - will eat any kind, but boy is a slut for vanilla cake and strawberry jam filling - you will often have to wipe the cream and jam from the corners of his mouth.
Will fuck up a strawberry sundae especially in the summer time.
Speaking of summer, it’s one of his favourite seasons
Loves to eat outside in the sunshine when it’s hot and balmy
Perfect weather for ice cream or milkshakes – and he won’t waste a single drop. If he notices some trickling down the cool glass in his hands, he’ll lick it up, completely oblivious to how the small action makes you blush.
You’ll often catch him eating his cereal standing up, watching TV or nosying at the neighbours having an argument in the streets below, still in his pyjama bottoms.
Loves milkshake straws - has a collection of different flavours - though, when he doesn’t use a straw, he is always oblivious to the cute lil milkstache.
Will squirt cream straight into his mouth in front of the fridge.
Weddings, and other events are the worst for him, as whilst he loves desserts, they rarely serve his favourites.
“I fucking hate pavlova” he grumbles, proceeding to eat it anyway, just to get his sugar fix.
Loves fruit - will eat raspberries one by one off the tips of his fingers.
You’ll catch him eating ice cream sitting on the kitchen floor in front of the fridge in the middle of the night, sucking on his spoon and looking at you like a deer in headlights when he sees you standing there watching him.
Will get cranky if he doesn’t get to eat - hangry vibes
If he wakes up late, he will refuse to leave without breakfast - this boy will run out the door with a piece of toast in his mouth like an anime school girl.
His RPD uniform has lots of “fancy pockets” and what are they good for? Emergency snack storage - nuts, sweets, biscuits, dried fruit. 
For his birthday, you buy him candy bracelets - heart eyes for days - and he sits and absent-mindedly sucks on them at his desk at work, thinking of you.
NSFW
As a birthday present, you wear a candy necklace during sex and Leon attacks your neck, sucking and biting at it whilst he fucks you.
Due to his habits, he always tastes sweet - all of him tastes sweet if you catch our drift (ya, his cum)
Whilst he’s squirting cream into his mouth, if you happen to be walking past and notice some of it lingering on the corners of his mouth and decide to lick it off, baby boy will forget everything he’s doing and fuck you over the kitchen table.
Speaking of cream - will use it on you when he fucks you, kitten-licking the sweet dollops off your warm skin (tits, collarbones, stomach - he's gonna eat you up)
If you’re curious about something he’s eating and want to taste some, he’ll kiss you in lieu of sharing (Leon is only possessive over two things - you and food).
Big into gum sharing - will use it as an excuse to start making out with you.
If things get a little messy when you’re eating cake, he will lick your hands clean if he’s in the mood.
Leon is a munch in more ways than one.
This boy will eat you out of house and home, including your pussy.
Could eat three square meals a day and will still go down on you like he’s starving.
Kitchen? Bedroom? Sofa? Standing up? Doesn’t matter - man’s is ready to munch anytime anywhere.
Whilst he’s eating you out, he’ll rut his hips against the bed - the sugar rush means he is always full of energy and ready to go at all times.
Will suck on your clit like it's a gobstopper.
Gets bratty when he hasn’t had a snack - but, it just so happens that he considers you to be the sweetest one.
Be prepared to be fucked within an inch of your life when he gets like this - or for him to eat you out until you can’t walk (will bring you a snack afterwards ofc).
This man gained 40lbs of muscle— but like we said, baby boy is still soft  
Leon puts you in a headlock whilst he fucks you and his biceps have a nice lil bit of squish which you relish in when he chokes you.
His ass jiggles - when he’s lying stomach down on bed, you love slapping it when you walk past and watching it jiggle like jelly - this action without fail will make him blush and whine “Stop!” every time.
You like to bite him
He’s too cute and squishy to resist honestly
Playfully nibbling his plump lil cheek
Biting his thick arms
When you’re riding him and can’t resist playfully kneading his tits like a kitten, and it makes him grab your wrists and fuck into you harder - he’ll later claim that him turning red from his cheeks to his chest was from exertion and not embarrassment.
He is the comfiest place to lie on when you’re fucked out and riding the waves of post-orgasmic bliss.
If you made it this far, comment “Bingo!”
Thank you for reading!
Love,
Ichigo and Dream xoxo
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ultram0th · 3 months ago
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December 07: Derek Hale
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00 │ 01 │ 02 │ 03 │ 04 │ 05 │ 06 │ 07
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It was Derek and Stiles’s first Christmas together. Even an emotionally stunted werewolf like Derek knew what that meant: He’d have to get his boyfriend a gift. That also meant that he’d have to brave the stores during the holiday season, which also meant that he’d be surrounded by people. A lot of people.
Derek had his perpetual scowl etched onto his gruff face as he stomped angrily through the mall, holding back growls when other patrons would accidentally bump into him.
With the massive influx of people combined with the annoying Christmas music blaring over the speakers, Derek was in a pretty bad mood to say the least. He snarled as he stomped his way through the busy mall, unsure of what to buy Stiles. He just knew that it had to be something that his boyfriend would enjoy and want to use over and over.
The grumpy werewolf was so caught up in the overstimulation and irritation that he hadn’t noticed the mall Santa Claus until he bumped into the man.
The mall Santa stumbled back, but seemed to be in good spirits as he laughed the interaction off. “In a hurry, Sir?” he asked in his trademark jolly voice.
Derek looked the large man in red up and down, his frown still superglued to his face. He just grunted out a response and gave a curt nod.
“Would a candy cane cheer you up?” Santa Claus asked, holding out the red and white sweet to the werewolf.
Derek scowled at the candy cane, notoriously hating sweets.
“It might help you out with some Christmas cheer,” the mall Santa coaxed. “Or maybe you need a little more help with getting into the holiday spirit?” The older man snapped his gloved fingers mischievously.
As he rolled his eyes, Derek felt an odd tingling sensation break out over his skin. The scent of peppermint hit his nostrils and became overwhelming, making the werewolf begin to sway a little on his feet. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, a sign that the man before him was more than just some mall Santa Claus.
Derek tried to steel his nerves and he squared his broad shoulders. “Who are you…” Derek’s question trailed off when he heard an almost helium-like quality to his voice, as if it had shot up by several octaves. 
The tough werewolf’s face turned bright red at the sound of his altered voice, but he cleared his throat before trying again.
“What the hell did you do?” he squeaked in his higher voice, even pointing an accusing finger at the man in red. However, that alerted to Derek to another terrible occurrence.
The werewolf could feel his heart starting to race in his muscled chest when he saw that the sleeve of his leather jacket completely covered his pointing hand, something that should’ve been impossible due to the alpha’s impressive height. Even during his panic, Derek managed to noticed that instead of looking the other man eye to eye like he had before, he was staring directly at the man’s bearded chin.
Derek began to shove his way through the crowd so that he could get to a secluded area, away from prying eyes. As he bolted, the werewolf was humiliated to realize that he was quickly becoming one of the shortest people in the mall. That, and for another strange reason, the more Derek shrank, the tighter his clothes actually became as opposed to looser. Even his gait was starting to change and Derek could feel his thighs starting to rub against each other in a way they never had before.
Derek burst into the bathroom and sprinted towards the mirror, gasping loudly at what he saw. 
The first thing that the alpha werewolf’s eyes honed on were his ears, which were now pointed at the top and slightly elongated to resemble elf ears. But then Derek’s attention was to brought to the rest of his shrinking body.
“What the fuck is going on?!” Derek panicked in his high-pitched voice as he saw that he was way shorter than he should have been. The bathroom sink came up to him mid-chest, and his leather jacket fell off of him and landed onto the floor, alerting Derek to even more. The werewolf gasped again as he realized that he wasn’t shrinking proportionally. Instead, it was more like he was squished down, losing his height but none of his mass.
Derek held his arms out in front of himself, watching as they pulled inwards. All of his muscle was left to bunch up within the shortened limbs, leaving them all thick and bulky, more akin to an oversized bodybuilder’s arms. His biceps ballooned out to the size of bowling balls, being so large and thick that Derek was forced to keep his arms out at his sides with them stuck at a ninety degree angle. The same thing happened with his legs— as they shortened, all the muscle in there got all bunched up and thick, forcing Derek to stand with them flared out as this wide thighs kept pressing against one another. His shoulders broadened to an obscene degree, ripping the werewolf’s shirt to shreds. As his torso squished down, his pecs bulged out further in front of him, forming a large shelf that he couldn’t see over. A part of Derek was relieved that his cock didn’t undergo the same transformation, but with it remaining its previous size on his compact body, it dangled to his knees.
Derek was floored, silent as he studied his new form in the mirror. He looked as tall as he was wide, having lost about half of his height but none of his muscles. He looked like a really short bodybuilder, and all of the compressed muscles made it extremely difficult for the werewolf to move.
He blushed when he tried to take a step forward, his thighs rolling over one another’s exaggerated girth, forcing his walk to resemble more of a waddle. His long cock dangled wildly between his legs as he moved. His arms were stuck out at his sides, and his pecs protruded far out in front of him, preventing him from seeing the ground.
Derek looked like an over-muscled elf!
“Well, that’s a good look for you, Derek,” the mall Santa Claus mused he entered bathroom. “Sorry about all of that bulky muscle, I can never get the shrinking spell just right.”
“What the fuck did you do?!” Derek tried to roar, but his squeaky voice ruined all of his toughness. He tried to hold his hands out at his sides, but his bulky muscle made it difficult to maneuver.
Santa Claus gave one of his classic, bellowing laughs. “Isn’t it obvious, Derek?” he teased. “You were looking like you were lacking some of that Christmas cheer, so I thought that you could use some help.” He then held out a handful of candy canes. “Why don’t you help me pass some of these out to the other shoppers? Then I’ll consider changing you back.”
The mall Santa Claus snapped his fingers again, and a pair of bright green shorts formed on Derek’s squished body. They were skintight and they left his noticeable bulge out in front and center. His enormous looking chest was forced to remain bare, his ballooned pecs looking hilariously big and cumbersome.
Derek’s broadened shoulders rose and fell as he sighed, taking the candy canes from the mall Santa and waddling behind him, trying to get the hang of moving around with such bulky muscles hindering his steps.
For the rest of the day, Derek helped the mall Santa Claus pass out candy canes to the shoppers in the mall. Many of them would muse over how large his muscles looked on his shortened body, a lot of them even asking him to flex for them. Despite himself, Derek would find himself flexing his massive muscles as best as he could, his face bright red. “Merry Christmas,” he’d say at the end of his posing routine as he passed the customer a candy cane, his high-pitched voice usually eliciting a few chuckles.
Much to his surprise, Derek found himself starting to actually have fun with the whole ordeal as the day went on. He started to feel himself being filled with an odd sense of joy as he passed out the sweet treats to the other shoppers, and he even got a little giddy when he would flex his large muscles for them, leaving the shoppers with a wide smile.
“Merry Christmas!” Derek exclaimed in his squeaky voice as he handed a candy cane to another customer.
“Derek?” he heard Stiles’s voice ask, confused.
Derek blushed when he looked up and saw his boyfriend staring down at him with wide eyes. 
“Oh, um, hey Stiles,” Derek squeaked, his face growing bright red. “I’m, um, trying to get more into the Christmas cheer.” Out of instinct due to his work for the day, Derek lifted his barely flexible arms to pose for his surprised boyfriend.
Stiles’s eyes widened even more, and Derek could pick up on his arousal.
“You like… this?” Derek asked, surprised. He gestured down at his short, muscled frame. 
Much to the werewolf’s surprise, his boyfriend nodded. “You look… really hot!” he smiled. “It’s the best present you could’ve given me!”
Immediately, Derek felt his compressed body swell with pride and he hit another pose. “R-really?” he squeaked, feeling excited that he might have inadvertently gotten his boyfriend a good present. “Well, Merry Christmas, Stiles!” Derek formed a most muscular pose, his tiny body flexing with power and loving how turned on his boyfriend looked.
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A/N: Yeah, it the final photos are AI. I can't do muscle compression morphs, so I decided to go this route. I hope you don't mind!
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drea-ms · 1 year ago
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WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING by KUSUO SAIKI
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٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ Inspired by Laufey's song "While you were sleeping", Kusuo Saiki falls in love with you at 3:30 am, he "hates" it ( spoiler; he does not )
warnings. pure fluff. ooc!saiki i think. corny and cheesy story i thought of at 12:47 am after thinking of the guy i like. mentions of yn. grammar mistakes. from saikis pov kinda. being in love. sweet fluff before all the angst (707 angst coming soon.) i just love saiki a lot :(.
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The clock read 3:30 am, and the pink haired boy still couldn't sleep, so deep in his thoughts. But, what was he thinking about? Could it be a plan to become average and leave his friend group forever or the amount of noise there is in the middle of the night that the average person couldn't hear? or maybe it's the girl with [h/l] [h/c] hair. Probably the first one, or maybe it's the last one. It's definitely the last one.
He doesn't know how he began to think of you this late, one moment he was getting ready to sleep, the other, he was thinking of how pretty you would look if he wasn't a pyschic and without his powers. He hates how you left him in this position, while you were sleeping without a care in the world, Kusuo Saiki had just began to fall in love with you. He absolutely hates it (he doesn't. he's lying to himself again.)
He just hopes it's a one time thing, that your playing mind games with him (how is that possible??? he's a god damn psychic!!) and that when he does go to sleep, that it'll never happen again. Yeah, this is just a one time thing...
It's 9:76 am. Six hours after that predicament. And he was so wrong, since that night, he couldn't bring himself to sleep without the thought of you within him, each time he did try to sleep, you were in his dreams. One way or another,you started to appear in his daily thoughts more and more often. When he was getting ready for school, everything and everywhere he went and did, you were in his mind. Like a lost puppy you were following him around in his thoughts, he absolutely hates it. He hates how when he gets to school you're there and you're talking to your friends and spot him and wave at him with your dumb smile. He hates how after class you greet him and both of you hard to lunch, he hates how you know that he likes being alone and leave him to himself, knowing well enough that he doesn't mind being with you, even if it means he's sacrificing his own time just to be with you.
And he's back at square one, the clock ticking and the time is 3:30 am, thinking of you again, how candy can't compete with how sweet you are, that the way you smile might as well be on par with Teruhashi, how your kindness and friendliness can make someone's teeth fall out. Everything about you is on his mind, and while you're sleeping again, like a baby, he's falling more and more deeper in love with you.
Sweet and Kind YN LN stuck in Kusuo Saiki's head, and he's beginning to like it, he likes everything about you, he likes how you always get him coffee jelly, even though you don't like coffee. He likes how you try to get him away from his and yours friend group just for you and him enjoy the silence for a while, he loves loves loves the idea of being your boyfriend one day.
And maybe that idea might become true. He just hopes that when it does, the both of you will be in bed together awake at 3:30 am and in love.
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VAL TALKS?!? back again :3 it's been a couple of weeks but i have school and i'm busy most of the time living life and going to school:) i wrote this because i was bored and start playing mystic messenger again and i thought of the guys i like :). i'm not sure i'm back for good, but i like writing and i have a 707 angst that's being brained stormed rn so i wanna focus on that and other stuff rather than just over work myself to point where writing isn't fun anymore to me:) it'll take some time for me to come back but i'll write and post every so often :) asks are open!! send me stuff of your favs!! especially mike from the fnaf i want to write him, so send requests!!
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grandlinedreams · 1 year ago
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Hii I just found out about your blog today! I really like your writing 🤭 Can I request a straw hat reader and law trying to keep their relationship a secret but they failed. Then the reaction from both crews! Thank you!
Hi bb!! Thank-you, I'm honored!! 🥺💖 but oh absolutely!! I hope this is to your liking, bb! (Ig this is a little non-canon? indeterminate setting)
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Palm up, you stare at the little square of white that inches across your skin at a steady pace. There are limits to vivre cards, you know that ㅡ but you can't help but silently will everything involved to move faster.
"You're not sneaky, you know." You whirl, finding Nami leaning against the doorway with an amused look on her face, arms folded across her chest.
"I don't know what you mean," you say warily, mentally kicking yourself for pulling the paper out without making sure you wouldn't be spotted with it, even as your fingers close around it protectively.
Nami's head tilts. "That secret candy stash," she says, "you're not very good at hiding it. You're just lucky that Luffy hasn't figured out where to look yet."
"Oh," you answer, trying not to sound too relieved that she doesn't mean the vivre card you've been watching for the last ten minutes. "Right. I'll have to move it around, then."
Nami studies you silently for a moment in which you're almost certain she knows, but then she pulls from the doorway with a sigh. "We're supposed to be meeting up with the Heart Pirates, so you might want to come out and join us before Luffy figures that something is up."
"Right behind you," you answer, waiting until she turns to put the vivre card away and moving to follow. Outside, you're just in time to watch the swell of waves break, exposing gleaming yellow metal.
"There they are!" Luffy crows excitedly from where he's perched atop his usual seat, waving to the Polar Tang despite the fact that nobody can see him yet.
"Remind me why we're still letting them hang around?" Zoro asks and you turn towards him, though Robin answers for you.
"Because it's important to keep good relations with our allies." She glances towards you. "You agree, don't you?"
You swear there's something in her gaze, a glint of amusement that runs deeper than watching you fumble to agree.
"Whatever," huffs Zoro. "Still think that guy's full of himself."
You bite your tongue, waiting until you're certain you won't say something you regret. "Luffy is our Captain, Zoro. If he trusts them, then we should too."
You feel a lot more than trust towards Trafalgar Law. But though it's gotten easier to keep those feelings under lock and key, it's still hard to not want to bounce forward and fling your arms around him the way Luffy does.
"Traffy!! Good to see you!"
"I've told you to stop calling me that, Strawhat," Law grouses, struggling to free himself from the rubber man's grip. "And get off me!"
Luffy seems far from upset by Law's greeting, cheerful grin still wide and bright as he lets go to offer the same greeting to Bepo, just a few feet behind his Captain.
You pretend not to notice when Law glances at you, your own attention pointedly fixed on some obscure point until you can't feel the weight of his gaze anymore. Only then do you lett yourself look back at him, fingers twitching at the memory of his vivre card on your palm.
Luffy's plan for the ally rendezvous ends up being to anchor both the Sunny and the Polar Tang at the back coast of a nearby island with the intent to keep either crew from being spotted and recognized. (It's more Law's idea, but all he does is roll his eyes when Luffy repeats it with much more enthusiasm.)
After that it's a blur of cooking food in the kitchen, platters laden down with piles of food and lowered down onto the beach, where a bonfire (small and carefully contained) is going at Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's request.
"Is there a reason you're avoiding me?"
"I'm not avoiding you," you say from where you're picking up dry kindling for the bonfire. "Didn't we agree not to tell either of our crews we're together?"
"True," Law agrees as he approaches, "but I hardly think pretending that I don't exist at all is going to work either. They'll think you hate me."
"I think Zoro has that covered," you mumble. "But you know I don't hate you, Law."
"I do?" There's a hint of amusement in his tone, smirk tugging at his lips. He's teasing you, the jerk. "Could have fooled me."
You roll your eyes. "What if you're the one who hates me? Hm?"
He approaches, the height difference all the clearer for how he seems to tower over you, even as he leans down. "Hate is the furthest word from how I feel about you."
You've only shared a handful of kisses with Law and each time, you've been the one to initiate them. Perhaps a testament to how he's missed you, Law leans in, lips pressing against yours.
Your eyes close, and you're tempted to drop the bundle of wood in your hands in favor of curling them into his shirt ㅡ only to break apart at the same time as Law at the sound of your Captain's voice in tandem with Bepo's.
"Hey Traffy!! Where'd you go?"
"Captain? Captain!"
Law sighs. "So much for that," he says, pulling away from you completely and turning back in the direction that he'd come from. "Don't take too long coming back either, or they'll think you got eaten by a Sea King."
Watching his back, it's only then that you realize he's somehow eased the bundle of sticks from your grip and walked away with it ㅡ effectively leaving you with zero reason as to why you'd left in the first place.
"Jerk," you mutter, but you're smiling, bringing a hand up to trace your lips and the lingering warmth.
Sunset is a milky blend of reds and oranges, vibrant against the deep blue of the sea, inciting a deeper sense of contentment that makes you dig your feet into the sunwarmed sand.
"Comfortable?" Law seats himself beside you without preamble, the brush of his arm against yours intentional. You debate for a moment before you lean against him, gaze flicking upward to watch his lips curve into a softer smile when you rest your head on his shoulder.
"I am now," you mumble, let your eyes drift shut as you try to commit this to memory. "I wish we saw each other more."
There's a deeper meaning to it, a wholly selfish want for something more stable than what you have ㅡ going months at a time without sreing each other, vivre cards the only way of guaranteed safety. (It isn't safety, not really. Just the reassurance that the other is still alive.)
"I know." Law answers. "...every time I hear about whatever stunt you lot have pulled, I check your vivre card." Another deeper meaning, vulnerability where he usually can't afford it. "We could tell them, you know."
You snort. "Tell them what? 'Sorry, we've been dating behind your back for the last two years?'"
"You're dating Traffy?"
You feel Law tense under your head at Luffy's voice, and you turn to find him staring at the two of you.
Shit.
"Luffy, I, uhㅡ"
"Yes," Law cuts in, "we are." It startles you, how freely he's admitting to it now when he's the one who wanted to be so damn careful about it.
"Oh," Luffy says. And then he grins. "That's so cool! I mean, as long as you're not gonna steal [Name] and make them join you all the time."
You wonder if somewhere down the line, you've hit your head and entered a different dimension. Surely you have, for Law to be so blasé in admitting to your relationship and Luffy ㅡ well, that's on par for him.
Luffy takes it a step further, however, turning and cupping his hands around his mouth. "You guys!! Did you know Traffy and [Name] were dating?"
You flinch, Law's expression unreadable as there's an answering call ㅡ Shachi.
"No offense Captain, but we figured it out last year!"
"I thought they seemed awful chummy! Congrats, you two!" Nami.
And then Luffy is bounding off back to the others, and your shoulders slump. "Well, that was a lot of worry for nothing," you lament, though you reach for Law's hand, lacing your fingers before you stand, tugging him to his feet. "Come on, boyfriend. We have some explaining to do."
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moscnios · 11 months ago
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★ the new intern portgas d. ace, my beloved.
cw: nsfw. f!reader. afab!reader. ace is from the south idk. takes place in the states for some reason again idk. i was just writing lmaoo. reader wears a skirt. not proofread. hear me out. MINORS DNI.
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── intern!ace who has recently started his internship at your company you have only been at for almost a year. mentoring him is somehow pushed onto you despite any of your colleagues being here longer than you and having much more experience in mentoring. you’ve never done this before. you try your absolute damnedest to get out of it but no one seems interested in relieving you of the responsibility. so best of luck to you
── intern!ace who is unlike anything you’ve seen before. why would a rowdy man start an internship at an office where he’d just be behind his desk or in meetings all day?
── intern!ace who never went anywhere without that distractingly bright orange hat.
── intern!ace who has a southern drawl about him, you aren’t surprised to learn he comes from somewhere down south. he has a special way of speaking that you, born and raised up north, struggled with understanding his creative idioms.
── intern!ace who you could always hear before you could see whether it was his loud mouth or the loud clicking of those ostrich skin square toe boots he was so proud of covered by his long trousers. they were louder than your heels.
── intern!ace who has a load of questions and is at your office door every five minutes. you’ve even started to recognize him by his knock. he always greeted you with a wooden toothpick between his plump lips.
── intern!ace who is a very respectful man who cares a lot about honorifics. that’s how he was raised. you are his mentor, his senior. he can’t just call you by your name. what kind of man would he be? you have become, miss.
── intern!ace who is very friendly, very touchy, but sweet as candy. you chalked it up to southern hospitality that you have yet to experience. when you’re explaining something, he stands extra close, he’s almost touching you. when you’re coming in, he jogs in front of you to hold open the door. when you fix the problem he has, he compliments you. he always looks so amazed when in just a few clicks everything is fixed. you’re like his superhero.
── intern!ace who has made it a habit to eat with you. or wait to take his lunch until you’re done. you’re like his only friend in the office and he likes eating with you.
── intern!ace who gets onto you about forgetting your lunch and eating fast food all the time. a woman like you deserves a homecooked meal he’s made it a habit to bring you an extra lunch. he does it so much, he’s even got you your own lunchbox that’s your favorite color.
── intern!ace who doesn’t leave the office until you leave. he could be done for hours but he still wants to walk you to your car to make sure you get there safely. plus what if you get lonely being the only one in the office?
── intern!ace who worries that you overwork yourself only to never be recognized. he’s only been here a month and a half and he’s already noticed it. he is always ready to remind you that you’re too good for this job and that they don’t deserve you or your time.
── intern!ace who looks a little different. dressed in a tight white button-down that looked like he was going to pop out of any second. were his arms always that big? was his chest always that broad? what did he look like without the shirt on? was he hiding more freckles under there?
── intern!ace who isn’t a fool. he may have been born at night but it damn sure wasn’t last night. he sees how you’re eyeballing him, undressing him with your eyes. he’s flattered. he’s always thought you were a beauty too, pretty as a peach, hotter than a fire in july.
── intern!ace who once again doesn’t leave with everyone else, he stays to keep you company. though this time he is bold enough to stay with you in your office until you’re ready to go. he’s distracting you with his presence alone. how are you supposed to finish when he’s sitting there with the top buttons of his shirt undone because it’s a little warm in here? he sprawled out on the chair, his legs open and his hat resting over his face because he wanted to 'rest his eyes'. you never noticed how built he was…how nice and lonely his lap looked. maybe it was kinda warm in here.
── intern!ace who hears you shuffle in your seat and hears you call out to him. he sits back up, taking his hat off of your face. you ask for his help, something you’ve never done before. he’s honored. he steps behind your desk to see the problem, to see exactly what you’re stuck on. it’s something simple, something you’ve helped him with before. why were you struggling now? maybe you wanted to test his knowledge, maybe you wanted to have him closer.
── intern!ace who stands behind your chair, reaching over the side of you to grab the mouse while his other strong hand rests on the back of your chair. you take on his warm, heavenly scent. it was intoxicating, you could hardly focus, and you hadn't heard a word he uttered.
── intern!ace who must come even closer, to actually finish your report so he can use the keyboard. he is particularly towering over you as he types so slowly. the tension in the room was so high. you cross your legs making your skirt ride up your thighs a little. with your eyes stuck on your monitor, you fail to watch him bite down on his lip.
── intern!ace who steps back to let you send your report to the boss before spinning your chair around to face him. there is one more work-related question he needs to ask you before you go home for the night.
── intern!ace who is a liar. it’s not work-related at all. he just wanted to be dramatic.
── “can i kiss you? i’ve been wanting to for a while now. it’s been killing me not to”
── intern!ace who barely lets the word yes fade into the air before he’s captured your lips on his in a passionate kiss. he kissed you like a desperate man, like a man who has waited god knows how long.
── intern!ace whose hands fiddle with your top, unbuttoning it just enough to reveal your bra and remove the tie you wore to work today.
── “i love me a businesswoman in a tie. you’re the boss here tonight, miss”
── intern!ace who wants you to take the reins, to take charge, to take what you want from him tonight. anything you wanted you could have.
── intern!ace who followed your every command with “yes ma’am” that sent shivers down your spine.
── intern!ace who finds his face place to be is in between your legs, with your tie tied tightly around his wrists behind his back. your fingers locked into his hair as you pushed him as far as he could go into your sopping wet cunt that has already drenched the lower half of his face.
── “like this, miss?”
── intern!ace with a praise kink. he loves hearing you tell him how good he’s treating you. looking up at you through hooded eyes as he waits for your praise. it sends chills down his spine and makes his cock twitch and leak in his pants.
── intern!ace who doesn’t know how you got even hotter with his hat on top of your head, your face contorted in pleasure, your shirt unbuttoned and your little skirt pulled up to your waist. it was a picture that was never going to leave his mind. from now on, you had to wear his hat more often.
── intern!ace who has an oral fixation. he’s attached his plump lips to your throbbing bundle of nerves yet again like a starved man with his eyes closed in delight. he moaned and hummed against you. he loved how your body trembled underneath his tongue as you came for him yet again. he lapped up all of your juices without fail like you were his favorite meal.
── intern!ace who whines when you pull him off your cunt.
── intern!ace who loves it when you take ownership over him. he’s your intern. he's your boy. he’s your baby, only yours and he’ll do whatever it takes to please you. he wants to hear you say it. he needs to hear you say it when he’s got you over your desk, balls deep into your pussy, fucking you like he’s in heat as you hold onto your tie that’s wrapped around his neck. say he’s your baby when he’s fucking this rough, this deep. say you own all of him, as his balls slap against your tight, creamy cunt.
── intern!ace who only cums after you because your pleasure is first. he only cums when you tell him to. he needs to kiss you when he does, emptying his load deep into your pussy, something he wasn’t supposed to do. he lets you pull on the tie one more time for good measure since he couldn’t behave.
── intern!ace whose oral fixation comes back to bite you in the ass when he’s already back on his knees to lap up all of his cum out of your sensitive cunt.
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MANGEKYOU 2024 ── do not copy, repost, or translate my works onto this platform or any other !
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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 7 months ago
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A Chance - Part 4^
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Hello friends, part 4 of the A Chance series is here! I hope you guys like the date! This is going to be the second to last part of the series. Thank you for reading 💖 I hope you guys like it! FIND THE REST OF THE SERIES HERE!
WARNINGS: Hostile work environment (gossip and rumors), mentions of sex, bullying. Ends really fluffy though!
WC: 7.6K
It was finally Friday and you were so eager to go out with Harry. You’d tried to relax with a shower and bath and it did help until you noticed that you already had a chip in your fresh pedicure. Then you started folding laundry and when you were just about to be done and putting your intimates away you decided to try on cute panties until you had chosen your lingerie for the night. You weren’t expecting to have sex but if things got close then you wanted to put in a bit more effort for him. You felt like a sex fiend for having these thoughts but it had been almost two years of you being the only person taking care of your sexual needs.
Finally, the time came for you to start getting ready. You were being careful as you applied some light makeup, you just did a slight smoky eye for the evening. You were slowing your breathing before getting on your eyeliner which was already extra challenging since you’d gotten your nails done as well. Nothing too long since you seldom got a set, but long enough that you were still getting used to them. You had thought a lot about what to wear and decided on one of your favorite dresses. It was a red and white, gingham print, spaghetti strapped dress. It was a square neckline so it didn’t really show cleavage, which you kind of loved. You paired that with your trusty sambas and your candy apple Baggu in the mini shoulder bag style. You had some small silver hoops in your ears and a silver horseshoe pendant around your neck for good luck. It was still hot out, so your hair was held up with the claw clip in a haphazard updo, a few strategic strands were pulled out to frame your face. And you topped it all off with a few spritzes of your favorite perfume and then waited in the kitchen until he was knocking at your door just a few minutes earlier than he said he’d arrive. You hurried to open it up and as soon as you saw each other, you were both beaming.
“Holy shit, you’re so pretty.” He said through an awestruck smile and you glanced away nervously at his compliment for a few moments. 
You then glanced back and took him in as well and smiled at his own outfit. He had a plain white tee tucked into some light gray slacks, a thin black belt fixed the two articles of clothing perfectly to his slender body. He had a light yellow, cashmere crewneck draped around his shoulders which added a level of sophistication to his ensemble. And to top it all off, a black cross-body bag spanning from his shoulder to the opposite hip. His feet were clad in his Authentic, black and white Vans, they looked quite worn, which gave his outfit the slight edge it needed.
“You look really freaking good too.” You said as the light from your apartment made his thin t-shirt appear even more translucent than it already was. You could see ink there, but you couldn’t quite make out what the tattoos were. You’d seen the ones on his arms from work, but more? You wondered if you had any more in places that weren’t visible to you yet.
“Ummm, thanks.” He smiled a bit bashfully.
“D-do you want water or need the bathroom or anything before we go?” You asked and he shook his head.
“Good to go. I ummm, actually did bring this for you though…” he said as he reached into his bag and opened it up before feeling around for the surprise item. He pulled out a little brown parchment bag and handed it over to you. You grinned at him before peering inside to see a little keychain with a black leather tag with your name embossed in silver and a couple star charms of different varieties hung from the keyring, the charms looked mismatch-y in an aesthetic way. 
“Oh, I love it!” You gasped happily as you looked at it more closely, “Thank you, I’ve been needing a new one.” You said.
“Yeah, I noticed that the one you have there is like, hanging on for dear life.” He explained of your current one. It was a sort wrist lanyard, your name was woven into it but you’d had the same one since you were a literal child. The two ends were currently being held together by a little safety pin.
“Yeah…” you chuckled, “My grandma got it for me on a vacation I spent with them. Got it at their city zoo. I had to have been 10 or 11…” you recalled, “I used to bike to school and my parents worked a lot so I would have to let myself into the house.” You explained, “So yeah, this one has been through a lot.” You chuckled.
“Well, I get if it has sentimental value and you want to keep using it. I have stuff like that too.” He assured you.
“Oh no, that’s alright. I can finally retire it to my memory box.” You said with a small smile, “Besides this one also has sentimental value.” You added and he smiled.
“It does.” He hummed.
“Can you help me switch it out? Don’t want to break my nail.” You said with slight embarrassment.
“Sure.” He chuckled and helped you do that.
“Thank you so much.” You hummed as he handed over your keys.
“Course.” He said softly, you guys just looked at each other for a few seconds.
“I want to kiss you so bad but I fear I won’t be able to stop if I do.” You confessed and he chuckled.
“The feeling is very mutual.” He admitted lowly with a rosy tint on his cheeks.
“Okay, lets go before I run out of will power!” You said and he chuckled but soon you were heading off. 
He had planned this with enough time in mind that you could just have a soda while you waited for your order to be ready. So far you had talked about your families and had just gotten into the topic of why previous relationships had failed when they called his name because your food was ready. You continued on this topic as you drove to the secondary location. You weren’t surprised to learn that Harry had significantly more relationships than you did and it didn’t really worry you. He did confess to being a serial dater in his mid twenties because he felt he was running out of time at that point, but that for the last three years he’d been in therapy regularly to help him overcome that need he had to fill his voids with romantic partners. 
“I’m so proud of you for that, Harry!” You encouraged him.
“Thank you, I am quite proud of myself too. I did realize how before I would just avoid all of my issues by latching to my partners. I’d lose myself in relationships and now like…I just want a partner to just enjoy the ride with, you know?” He asked and you sighed.
“I do but…I also don’t. I’m quite opposite of you.” You said with a small smile.
“A big shocker there…” he said sardonically before you both laughed it off.
“Yeah, see I avoid closeness with people because I figure that if you come into my life then…you have to leave at some point.” You explained and he nodded, “I know I need to go to therapy t-to work on my intimacy issues and all that, but it’s just the getting started bit that makes me nervous. Like I did have a therapist in high school but I didn’t really vibe with him. He was an older man, so I didn’t feel like I could really open up, you know?”
“Yeah, I can understand that. It took me a few tries before I found this doctor I’ve been with the last couple years. But yeah, when you find that person that you can really be authentic with, the therapeutic experiences changes a lot.” He explained.
“I can imagine. You’ve inspired me to start searching again.” You said and he chuckled.
“Good! I mean, it’s healthy to have that one impartial person, you know?”
“Definitely. And well, I don’t know if maybe I’m speaking a little too in the future, but I mean…I agreed to go out with you because so far you’re the safest I’ve felt with a person in a long, long time and like…I would hope that this can grow into something bigger and better down the line.” You said and he nodded and smiled before turning back to the road. 
You were so happy he couldn’t really look at you while you said this. You even felt a bit grossed out with yourself from how soft you felt around him, that was your past hurt peeking through, trying to close you back up again before you got hurt. But you did it anyway because you knew he would never hurt you. 
“Anyway ummm…sometimes I might…be a dick when I feel like you’re getting too close.” You explained and since you were now at a red light he glanced over to you, “I hope you can call me out on it when you recognize that’s what I’m doing. I know when I do it, it’s a defense mechanism.” You said and he nodded, “But I don’t want to be that way with you. I want to unlearn all of that and let you see the parts of me that haven’t seen the light of day in years!” You said with a sincere smile, “But it’s going to be hard for me, Harry. And I’m not going to make it easy for you either at times, so I apologize in advance.” You said and then looked into his eyes, “I just hope that you don’t-” you paused when you felt the weight of the meaning of what you were just about to ask him and your gaze flitted away nervously.
“That I don’t what?” He asked and you sighed. 
Being this vulnerable made you want to crawl under a rock and never come out. You knew the that people in the cars around you and walking on the side walks couldn’t hear your conversation, but it felt like they could. What a sweet relief it’d be for a 9 point magnitude earthquake to just hit all of a sudden so that the earth could swallow you whole and you wouldn’t have to admit your biggest fear to him. You hadn’t meant to get that deep but it just happened! Like things just tended to happen with him.
“Ummm…I hope that you don’t give up on me. Like when I…inevitably feel the need t-to keep myself safe the way I have all this time.” You explained and his gaze softened.
“Look Y/N, I have liked you for nearly two years.” He informed you and you smiled, “I’m not giving up. Not when we’re leaps and bounds from where we started and more than that, when we’re so close to being more.” He said and you wanted to cry.
“Thank you.”
“Of course.” He reassured you, “I want this to work so fucking badly.” 
“I do too.” You assured him.
“That’s all it takes, willingness from both of us to see this through.” He said tenderly. You both gasped in fright as the truck behind your car honked loudly as you were holding up the traffic now. “Jesus…” Harry grumbled before you took off again. Just a few minutes later you were driving past the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. Your mouth dropped open in surprise as you drove past it before turning on a side street.
“Are we watching a movie?” You asked, trying your hardest not to squeal with excitement.
“Yeah…” He chuckled and then you squealed. You guys were able to get a spot at this lot and were soon looking into Harry’s trunk with a pout of endearment. There was a very large picnic basket with a little bouquet of wild-flowers peaking out of one end and a picnic blanket rolled up and placed neatly between the baskets handles. There were also two large, jade green, corduroy floor cushions. “Gimme the food bag, please?” He requested and you handed it over before stepping back to give him space to fit your dinner in the basket.
“I got the blanket and cushions.” You said.
“Thanks, love.” He smiled before handing them over and moments later you were following the rest of the herds of people towards the cemetery. 
While you waited in line you talked about the film “Comet” since the main characters had met here in that film. You talked about BRAT and Charm, both excellent albums that you’d recently been listening to. You discussed sharing a little tub of kettle corn because it tastes better when it’s warm and you should never skip on that given the chance. And then that led to you turning towards him to ask your next question.
“So what’re we watching?” You asked.
“Midsommar.” He said, “I remember you saying you liked that one when we were talking at the bar that first time?” He recalled and you nodded.
“Yeah…so, you’re bringing me to watch a movie about a boyfriend being burned alive?” You chuckled.
“Oh…right…” he chuckled, “Hopefully not foreshadowing.” He mumbled playfully and you giggled.
“Yeah, that’d be a tragedy…” you hummed sarcastically and he chuckled and playfully knocked his elbow against yours.
“You know you’d miss me. You wouldn’t be able to go on without me.” He said dramatically, “Admit it.” He pressed with a smile and you giggled.
“Mmmm…I don’t know…we’re getting there though.” You assured him and he chuckled. 
“I’ll take that.” He hummed and you smiled. 
If there was one thing that you were so obsessed with Harry over it was this! The fact that he never pressured you into anything. He didn’t try and change your mind or feelings about things. He’d listen and be present with you and be encouraging, but he never imposed his opinions or feelings about things onto you. It made you realize that he liked you as a whole person. Not just your looks, not specific things like your intelligence or humor, but all of those things together, even the things that you felt weren’t so great. He was interested and determined in getting to know all of your facets. The time and care he took in gaining your trust and trying to understand you, well it was paying off. Others had tried before but they’d get frustrated and give up on you quickly. But not Harry, he knew that good things take time to cultivate and he was willing to work hard and wait and see the fruits of his efforts with you. He was mature and confident and handsome and smart and so fucking lovely that you just had to pinch yourself sometimes to ensure that he was a real person.
“What?” He asked with a smile on his face as you just continued looking at him. It broke you out of your thoughts and you glanced away bashfully and shrugged.
“Nothing just…thinking about how wonderful you are and I’m really lucky that you still gave me a chance.” You confessed and he smiled bashfully. His cheeks were going pink so he just chuckled nervously and looked away. “Now you know how it feels.” You teased and he laughed a bit more before glancing back into your eyes.
Soon enough you had found a place to sit and got comfy. Thankfully, you’d shown up early enough that you and Harry could eat and talk a little bit more about whatever you wanted until the sun started to set, indicating the film would be projected soon.
“So what more’s in the basket?” You asked as you finished packing away your empty takeout containers back in the bag.
“Some Prosecco,” he said as he glanced up with a grin when you oohed in excitement, “Reese’s pieces, best chocolate candy you have here.” He said.
“I beg to differ, but proceed…” you hummed and he sniggered.
“I also bought these nerd rope cluster things.” He informed with wide eyes, “ They’re like drugs.” He said pointedly and you laughed, “Fran gave me a bag yesterday,” he shared, “I ate two more that same night at home.” He chuckled and you giggled along.
“You did say you had a sweet tooth, huh?” You asked and he nodded and quickly glanced down at your lips before looking up at you again.
“I’d say so.” He hummed smugly as he watched your pupils dilate with excitement.
“You’re a tease.” You giggled and he smirked.
“What about you?” He asked and you nodded.
“Yeah, but for like chocolate and pastries. Not really candy.” You shared.
“So I nailed it with the chocolate covered strawberries?”
“Absolutely.” You responded eagerly and he chuckled. “So I’ll get the kettle corn because you’ve covered everything else.” You said and he smiled.
“You don’t have to. I asked you out.” He said and you gave him a pointed look and he chuckled, “Alright, I’ll get the Prosecco opened.” He said and you nodded in satisfaction. 
Soon enough you were back at the blanket and Harry had the flutes set up all nice and neat for you two. “Ummm, apologies in advance for the lower back pain, I just realized I brought nothing for us to recline on.” He explained as you sat.
“Oh, that’s alright. We’ve both seen this film right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we can lay and chit chat.” You said, “Quietly, of course.” You added when the couple in front of you glanced back when you said that and Harry sniggered.
“We can play 20 questions.” He said and you nodded. “Wanna stay and dance a little after the film?” He asked and you grinned.
“Yeah? Amongst the dead and all?” You asked and he smiled.
“Yeah. You’re into the morbid things right?” He asked teasingly. You rolled your eyes and he chuckled. 
Soon enough, the movie had started and you two were laying down, heads on the floor cushions while you looked at each other and mouthed things at each other. You were trying to figure out what the other was saying, but turns out you were both awful lip readers. You kept rolling away to be able to laugh quietly because if you looked at him you would laugh out loud and interrupt the film for everyone.
“We should shut up.” You whispered and he nodded.
“Yeah, we’re being obnoxious.” He agreed quietly and then just stared at you until you were both smiling like fools. He leaned over and kissed your cheek gently, “Lets sit up, you can lean on me.” He said and you nodded. Moments later you were crawling carefully in between Harry’s legs before sitting down between them and scooting back carefully until you felt his warmth behind you. “Want me t’take your clip off?” He asked.
“Please.” You hummed and he unclasped it from your hair before you ran your hand through it and leaned back against him again.
“Thank you, it was stabbing me in the sternum.” He confessed and you giggled quietly. 
You glanced to the side and saw that he was supporting his weight and yours on his hands, they were firmly planted to the blanket beneath you so that you could recline and sit more comfortably. You wanted to hold his hand so badly, you’d done it a couple times already, but this was your first date, you wanted to show effort back. So you sat up straight instead and pulled his left hand into your lap so that he was kind of hugging around you. Your heart was pounding erratically as you made this move to be closer. He didn’t say anything, but you felt him relax against your back as you started to weave your fingers into the spaces between his own. Harry certainly didn’t mind it, he was hoping that you guys could share some more intimate moments on this date. He was dying to kiss you again. It took all of his physical and mental strength to not turn you around and do just that. When the credits started to roll people immediately started to stand to leave.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Harry but honestly…the film was not as good as I remember it.” you said lowly as several people around you were raving about it and he laughed.
“I agree but I just…I didn’t want to shit on a film you liked.” Harry said through a giggle as he hugged around your waist from behind. You laughed along and leaned back into him.
“Like without the element of surprise for all twisted shit that happens it’s rather boring.” You explained and he nodded.
“Literally, very boring.” He concurred, “Not very entertaining when you know the point.” He hummed and you giggled.
“You, however, very entertaining. I liked learning that you are an Aquarius and that you’re the eldest of three, like that tracks with how you act and all.” You said and he grinned, “And that you think Birkenstocks are ugly…” You giggled.
“Look, say what you want but I refuse to wear anything of the sort.” He chuckled.
“No, no…I’m not offended, if anything I feel….validated. I agree wholeheartedly. Not on my feet!” You assured and Harry squeezed you a bit tighter through his laughter.
After enough people had left, you and Harry started to gather your things and then moved them closer to the side as you chose a more desolate area to continue chatting in between singing along to “Shining Star” by Earth, Wind, & Fire as you casually grooved along with the other people who had stayed behind to talk or dance a bit. 
“Has this been alright?” Harry asked you quietly as he pulled your body closer to his when a slow song started to play.
“Definitely.” You smiled.
“Even though the movie was boring?” He asked through a snigger and you giggled.
“Who cares about the movie when the company is top tier?” You asked and he blushed and glanced down between your bodies bashfully until he felt the rosiness and heat start to fade from his face. 
“You look so beautiful.” He said only loud enough for you to hear, “Well, you’re always beautiful, but I’ve never seen you in a dress before.” He added.
“I enjoy wearing dresses, just not for work. S’always so cold in the building.” You explained.
“True. And I mean, based off of your usual work style I just…never thought this was the kind of look you’re into casually, you know? It was unexpected and it’s very flattering on you. I’m trying not to stare but like…I have to just check you out a bit to just remember that you’re real, you know?” He asked and it was your turn to feel the blood rushing up to your cheeks and making your face grow warm at his compliment.
“Jesus…” you mumbled meekly and he chuckled, “You know, it’s weird for me to feel….giddy.” you mumbled and he smirked.
“Do you…like the feeling?” He asked.
“Surprisingly yes.” You smiled as you responded and started to gently scratch at the hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes fluttered shut and he hummed.
“That feels nice.” He moaned in satisfaction, “I think this is my one weakness.” He hummed, “Just…FYI.” He smiled dopily. He literally felt his skin litter with goosebumps at the delicious feeling of your nails gently scratching at that sweet spot on his head.
“Oh really? Not those nerd cluster things?” You teased.
“That too.” He giggled and you smiled, “And probably your lips.” He added and you grinned, “How do you feel about kissing after the first date?” He asked.
“Not favorable.” You joked with a smirk and he sniggered.
“So I should kiss you before the end of the date then…” he said with a playful grin and an adorable side eye and you giggled, “Wouldn’t be after the date…right?”
“Very clever.” You hummed and he chuckled, “But I mean it’s not favorable because that would be waiting too long…I mean, at least in my opinion…” You said coyly and he giggled.
“Is that so?” He hummed teasingly.
“I’m afraid so.” You grinned and he leaned a bit lower as you tip-toed and angled your head to the right. His nose playfully nudged yours before he pecked the corner of your mouth quickly. You started to giggle as he moved down to your chin, “Please…” you whispered and he sighed and then ardently pressed his lips into yours. Your bodies stopped swaying to the music as you became entranced into your kiss. The song switched to “Island in the Sun” and you both broke the kiss to sing the opening line: “Hip, Hip…”
You both laughed before you started to dance again. You sang along passionately with the rest of the people around and Harry twirled you around as the song sped up and when it hit the bridge you both just held hands and spun around quickly until you started to get dizzy and crashed into each other as you guys continued to sing along as the song started to come to a close.
“We’ll never feel bad anymoooore.”
“No. No.” Harry echoed with glee as you started to dance a little less as the song came to an end.
Everything felt so easy with him. The way he was made your effort feel worthwhile. It made you feel like working on the prickly parts of your personality wasn’t going to be as dreadful or taxing as you always thought it would be. That was actually the very reason you had avoided doing all of that healing work for at least a decade now; you realized it was you who was the issue when it took a toll on your first relationship after you left for college. Sure, it was going to be hard and painful at times, but if at the end of the day you got to be with him and see how happy it made him that you were getting better, then it was going to be worth it. A part of you felt foreign and a little disgusted with yourself for being so far gone so quickly over someone, a man, no less! But when you reminded yourself that he tried for months and he was patient and he stayed, those feelings and insecurities evaporated into thin air as quickly as they were conjured. No one had done that for you before. 
You knew there were good people in the world, but dealing with someone who is avoidant of intimacy and genuine connection can bring out the worst of the most wonderful and loving people. Especially for someone with a background like Harry’s, who struggled with codependence, like he did in the past. Typically, those anxious types always felt like they could “fix” avoidant types. That they would be the person to break them out of their fear of intimacy by being extremely present and showering them with the affection they craved but seldom allowed themselves to receive. They always felt they could be the exception and show them how good it could be to have someone around all the time. But in really, about 90% of the time it felt like you were being suffocated and corralled with all that attention and effort. It was annoying more than it was endearing. And as an avoidant you just have to flee before you are smothered in another person’s neediness. It was sad when you thought about it, being so afraid to get hurt that your defense mechanism is to close yourself off and be alone so that nothing or no one could ever hurt you or disappoint you or leave you again. It was masochistic but better (preferred even) than being smothered by a person who thought they understood you and thought that they could break down your walls by caring so intensely. In reality, it made your walls stretch even higher. Kind of like Adam, who just wanted to jump in and "save you”, not understanding that acts like that made you feel powerless and pathetic.
Harry though, he got that you didn’t need anyone to fight your battles for you. He came on strong when you finally let him him but he did it in a way that made you feel like he needed you more than you needed him when you finally got some time to yourselves. In reality you probably needed him just as badly, but you just needed to feel and believe that, that wasn’t the case. That didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest whereas it made Adam feel overlooked and inferior. All of these thoughts came to a screeching halt when Harry gently grabbed your face and you blinked a couple times as you realized that he had asked you something.
“Sorry, what?” You asked lowly and he chuckled.
“Nothing, just asking if you were alright. You got really quiet and pensive for a few moments there.” He said.
“Yeah, I’m alright just…thinking I guess.” You shrugged.
“Anything you want to talk about?” He asked and you shook your head
“No, it’s alright.” You declined and he nodded, but you could see that he was looking a little worried upon hearing that. 
Your thoughts weren’t any of his business, you knew that logically. And you also knew that he would eventually get over your rejection at an opportunity to open up to him. But despite knowing these things and deciding to leave it be, you found yourself wanting to reassure him that it had nothing to do with him in a negative way. You were just coming to terms with a lot of things about yourself and the possibility of sharing your time and affection with someone for the first time in a long time. You had a soft spot for Harry and it was growing exponentially.
“Harry, I promise it’s nothing bad.” You reassured him as you reached for one of his hands and pulled it down beside your bodies again as you interlocked your fingers with his.
“Okay.” He smiled, looking more relieved.
“I’m really enjoying this date. It’s been fun and unique and so thoughtful on your part, Harry. Thank you.” you hummed with gratitude.
Harry smiled, “I’m glad you’re having a good time.” He said softly.
You genuinely were having a nice time. The effort was everything to you and you couldn’t wait to do something just as nice and thoughtful for him. 
After another half hour you were both on the way back to your house making plans for lunch on Monday. The car was coming to a slow stop right in front of your building and then he parked and turned on his hazards.
“Thank you again for taking me out.” You said as you turned towards him and he smiled.
“Thank you for accepting.” He responded.
“Of course. Ummm, I’m gonna kiss you again before leaving.”
“Okay.” He whispered as you leaned in and cut him off with your lips over his. 
The collar of of his t-shirt was gripped in your fist as you held him close. And his right hand was sliding up your thigh before gently squeezing the widest part of your hip. His grip was steadying you as you were leaned over the center console to reach him. He’d given you his cashmere pullover earlier in the night when you got cold while walking through the cemetery, but now you were starting to get hot as your kiss intensified and you didn’t want to give it up just yet.
Harry nipped at your bottom lip before giving it a few gentle sucks and pulling back. His nose nodes your playfully before he kissed around your mouth. The corners, your cupid’s bow, and chin. Your hand started to skim down his chest and when you reached his abs he sniggered.
“Hey, hey, hey…” He said softly, “Easy, love.” He hummed and you sighed but nodded.
“Sorry.”
“Oh, it’s not because I don’t want to. S’because I want to, so fucking badly, just don’t want to get carried away.” He explained.
“I get it, I get carried away quite easily too.” You admitted and he smiled.
“Can I see you tomorrow?” He asked and you grinned.
“Yeah. Wanna work out?”
“Perfect. Here?”
“If you’d like, yeah. Then we can get food or something.”
“Alright, see you tomorrow. I’ll text you when I head over.” He hummed and you nodded. Your lips met in a slow and deep kiss once more before you pulled away and hurried inside. 
You were on cloud 9 as you washed up before getting into bed. When he let you know he’d made it home safe you said good night. You felt a little bit embarrassed as you got his pullover back over your bare top half to sleep in but you just loved the smell of his cologne and wanted it to be enveloping you over night. You could return it to him when you met up with him  the following day.
**************
It was Monday morning and you were in a noticeably chipper mood! Like sun shining out of your ass chipper. You had spent a total of twelve hours with Harry over the weekend and had not gotten sick of him once. For the first time in a long while you felt really good and excited about something, about someone. And nothing could really ruin that for you. You had just gotten up to the editing and writing floor and you had a strange feeling that everyone was looking at you as you walked past them. Maybe you were just imagining it because you had never really walked around with a placid smile on your face before and it did feel a bit odd to be that outwardly happy. You were doing fine of ignoring up until the fifth person passed by your cubicle and peered in to see if you were in. Your good mood was slowly melting away and you wondered if maybe there was something on your face or there was a tear in your clothes that you somehow missed? Regardless of what it was, you stood from your seat and got up to slide your cubicle door closed, but just as you were about to do so, Destiny walked up looking quite nervous.
“Hi, Y/N.” She greeted you.
“Hi.” You responded with a polite smile.
“Do you have a sec?” She asked.
“Uh, sure…” you said warily as you let her into your little cubicle.
“Ummm…I just wanted to tell you in-person that I didn’t tell anyone about you and Harry.” She said and suddenly everything started to click. “I have no idea how everyone found out that you two are dating but they did.” She said with wide eyes.
“Oh…no wonder I felt very…visible today.” You said and she nodded.
“Yeah, it’s what everyone is talking about. I just needed you to know that it wasn’t me.”
“Well thank you for letting me know.” You said and she nodded. 
“And look, I know you don’t really care about what people say and think about you, but I know this is a new situation for you t-to be in. So just a reminder that it’s not worth your energy.” She reminded with a small and encouraging smile.
“Thank you, Destiny.” You said with gratitude and she nodded.
“Of course. See you around.” She said before hurrying out and sliding the door closed behind her. You peered over into Adam’s cubicle and saw he wasn’t in yet and decided to just settle back in and got your headphones in and got to work.
Now that you knew people were looking at you, you felt apprehensive and even more under a microscope than before. You soon discovered from Adam that apparently someone had seen you and Harry at the dumpling restaurant together on Friday night. Lunch with Harry had been fine since you’d decided to meet up somewhere, but even then, he didn’t bring anything up about what people were saying, so you decided to follow his lead and just ignore it too. You’d done that before and you could do it again. But as the day progressed you were finding it increasingly challenging to ignore everything you were hearing.
The most prominent rumor you kept hearing was that Harry had lost a bet and that’s why he had taken you out to dinner. Then, people were saying Harry was embarrassed of the rumors because he hadn’t even gone anywhere near you today. Logically, you knew this was a lie, he’d been out collecting interviews for a piece he was working on all morning and it was why you had met up for lunch off campus, but hearing the interpretation people had of this was troubling for you. Normally, this kind of thing wouldn’t even get to you, but it was starting to and not in the way you expected it to. You actually felt more bad for Harry in regard to these rumors. Soon you were starting to feel sad over the consequences he was reaping over this and kept coming to the same conclusion every time you gave it some thought: Harry deserved better. He did, he deserved so much better than this and it was eating away at you that this was your fault. 
You’d heard whispered comments and overheard conversations in cubicles as you went to fill up your water bottle through out the day, but your resolve broke when you found yourself in the bathroom stall and some of the women in there were talking about how smiley you were in the morning.
“Did you see how happy she looked this morning? A good fuck will do that for you!” 
“Maybe Harry’s taking one for the team and fucking the bitch out of her.”
“He’s collecting that good karma, you know? It couldn’t have be pleasant for him…she probably has teeth down there.”
Those were the kinds of things you’d heard and they were hurting your feelings, but mostly making you feel bad for Harry. He was very well-liked and respected and clearly him spending some time with you was already ruining his reputation. You had to hold in your sobs and wait until they left to leave the stall, but you couldn’t make it to the end of the day with all of this guilt and shame over what this date with Harry was doing to his reputation. So you made your way over to Harry’s cubicle because you couldn’t do this to him. It wasn’t fair. You made some awkward eye contact with a few people as you slid his door closed and then turned to him with a sigh.
“Are you okay?” Harry asked immediately when he saw your puffy eyes and you nodded as you came around to his side of the desk and sat on the empty surface to his left.
“Yeah, m’fine…kinda used to people talking about me.” You said sadly as you glanced down at your fingers tangling together in your lap.
Harry sighed and shook his head, “But not shit like they’ve been saying. It’s awful, love. And if you feel…hurt…that’s expected.” He said and you sighed before biting your lip and shrugging.
“It is what it is… but ummm, I actually wanted to come talk to you. Are you okay?”
“Oh, I’m fine…” he assured you.
“Are you really?” You asked and he shrugged.
“I mean, I’m disappointed a bit but who wouldn’t be?”
“I just…hate that this is happening to you because of me and…” you swallowed thickly as the lump forming in your throat quite literally stopped you from saying what you needed to say, “I think that you deserve a lot better than this, Ha-”
“Don’t even go there.” Harry cut you off with a pout and you shook your head as your tears started to fall.
“You don’t deserve this, Harry! I feel awful that people are talking shit about you and treating you like crap because of me! It’s making me feel physically ill!” You admitted sadly. But this wasn’t fair to him. “I can’t be selfish about this, not when it’s causing so much trouble for you.” You said and he smiled.
“You’re worth it to me, baby.” He said as he reached for your hand and you looked into his eyes. “I’m very alright with my decision to date you.” He assured you.
“You don’t regret it?” You asked him.
“Of course not! Getting to know you makes me so happy. Some stupid rumors can’t ruin that for me.” He reassured you. “And there’s no way I’m letting all this shit get in the way of this. Of us.” He said and you bit your lip. 
“Are you sure?” You asked him meekly. He’d never seen you look so small and insecure. It made him angry and sad because that wasn’t you at all. 
“Fuck what everyone else says, I want to keep dating you. What do you want, baby?” He asked and you sighed as you looked into his eyes. He called you “baby”, it made you want to blush and laugh and cheer all at the same time.
“I want to keep dating you too! But-”
“But nothing.” He stopped you, “M’gonna kiss you now.” He said as he looked into your eyes and you smiled. He pushed himself up from his seat and grabbed your face gently before smiling and kissing you tenderly. Your lips molded together with ease for a few moments before he kissed your cheek and pressed his forehead into yours.
“What I was going to ask before you so rudely cut me off…” you whispered jokingly and he giggled, “What if it never stops? The shit talking and rumors?” You asked and he smiled with a mischievous look in his eyes. 
“I tried it your way, just ignoring it and all and you tried to dump me so we’re trying another approach.” He warned you and cleared his throat for a moment before pulling back from you slightly, hands still holding your hips firmly.
“H-harry-” you tried to stop him when you caught on to what he was about to do but his voice overtook your soft plea.
“Although it’s actually no one’s fucking business…” he started, and you buried your face in his chest as his voice projected loud and clear so that anyone within this side of the office could hear, “Yes, I’m dating Y/N! Happily might I add. I’ve actually been trying to get her to like me for two freaking years and I will not let anything ruin this chance for me! So the next person I hear talking crap or spreading rumors about me or my girl is getting reported to HR for creating a hostile work environment.” He concluded. 
“Harry…” you whined quietly. Your face was burning with all the blood that had rushed up to it at this very public declaration. 
“I know you don’t need me to stick up for you, but that was for us.” He clarified, “No one should be able to ruin this for us. Not when we’re both so pleased about it.” He reasoned and you exhaled and nodded.
“You’re right.” You decided after a few pensive seconds. Harry smiled and tucked your hair behind your ear, “Now, can I have one more kiss?” You asked.
“Absolutely.” He whispered.
Once again, Harry grabbed your face between his hands and leaned in. His lips slowly skimmed yours before you grew impatient and craned your neck just a bit further up until you were kissing slowly. The soft, wet smacks of your lips meeting over and over again were like a melody you never wanted to forget. You had no idea what it was about him that was so fucking disarming but you liked it even though it terrified you at the same time. You loved that he first tried things your way and recognized your ability to take care of yourself, but he was right, his little PSA wasn’t for you or for him, it was for what you two had. How easy would it have been for him to agree that it was all too big of a fuss to keep seeing you? He had just shown you right now that he intended to stay. And as uncomfortable as these public declarations normally made you, a part of you was pleased that he wasn’t embarrassed to make them if it meant proving to you that the rumors and gossip would not sway him from choosing you.
“Thank you.” You whispered and he pecked your lips once more. “I…hated that but it also felt really good.” You confessed and he sniggered.
“Oh I feel you…I hated having to justify anything about us to all these people but I need you to know that I’m not ashamed of you or put off by what other people think or say. Everything I’ve seen of you so far has been absolute perfection.” He said softly and you swore you melted into a puddle of mush then and there. “And I haven’t even seen you naked yet!” He added playfully and you laughed quietly as he did too.
“You’re worth it to me too.” You assured him and he smiled bashfully. “Should we get out of here a little early?” You asked him.
“Definitely.” He agreed easily. 
>> NEXT PART >>
coming soon!
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dallasgallant · 9 months ago
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Tough Slang |
I’ve been watching a lot of delinquent movies (I have recs) lately and I’ve started to collect the slang common in them. This is a “dictionary” that’s useful for writing but I’d still recommend looking up period or group specific slang yourself too, consider this a starting guide.
Primarily 50s-60s , mixed with general slang and relevant words.
Baby: Term of endearment [also used in Gay context]
Backseat bingo: Making out
Beat it: Go away
Belted: Beaten; Hurt
Bent car: Stolen car
Bit: Job; Robbery plan
Blade: Knives [typically switchblade]
Blast: Good time
Bop: Kill
Boss: Liked man of authority
Box job: Safe cracking
Break it up: Stop fighting
Broad: Woman
Bug: Bother
Bugging: Freaking out; Tripping
Bulls: Cops
Bum: To get by asking or begging; Vagrant
Bunk: Sleep with ; Share a prison cell
Candy ass: Coward
Can opener: Tools capable of breaking open safe
Can: Prison
Cheese it: Stop what you’re doing; Look out
Cherry: Good looking/condition [typically a car, sometimes a person]
Chicken: Coward
Cool it: Calm down
Cooler: Prison
Con: Convict; Swindle
Copped: Had the cops called on; Ratted out
Cranked: High; Drunk
Crash: Stay/sleep at someone’s place
Crazy: Deranged ; Enthusiastic about something
Cut the gas: Get to the point; shut up
Deck: Box of ciggerettes; To punch
Dibs: Laying claim on something
Dig: to understand; to like something
Dive: Low down place
Drugstore cowboy: Young man who loiters around drugstores and street corners : someone who robs drugstores : Pill popper/addict (none of these are mutually exclusive)
Flat: Broke
Flip: Panic
Freak out: Wild/irrational reaction or behavior
Fry: Executed by electric chair
Fuzz: Police
Gas: Fun or cool
Get bent: Get lost; Go fuck yourself
Get lost: Go away
Greaser: Young man with greased hair, usually of lower class , gang affiliation or juvenile delinquent
Hang: Gather together with no expressed purpose
Hang loose: Relax; Take it easy
Happenin’: Exciting/Lively/Busy ; With the times
Heat: Police
Heater: Gun
Headshrinker: Shrink; therapist
Hip: With it; Understand; Cool
Hoodlum/hood: Trouble maker; Criminal
Jam: in trouble; Cram something
JD: Juvenile delinquent
Jive: Agree with someone
Jug: Prison
Jumped: Attacked without warning; Beaten
Keen: Eager; Enthusiastic
Lay off: Leave alone
Lifer: Someone serving a life sentence
Loaded: Drunk; Armed [Depending on context]
Lone it: Do something on ones own
Loiter: Stand or wait around without purpose; hang out
Man: Colloquialism for emphasis or familiarity 
Neato: Neat; Excellent; Exciting
Nance: Efféminent guy/Gay
Pack: Carry some sort of weapon
Pad: Where someone lives
Pansy: Efféminent guy/Gay
Paper shaker: Cheerleader
Play hooky: skip school/obligation
Pops: Affectionate term for an older man
Punk: Hoodlum
Rat: to tell on
Reefer: Weed; Marijuana
Rod: Gun
Rumble: Organized fight
Savvy: know/understand (similar to dig) or knowledgeable on a given topic
Scram: Go away
Scum: Despicable person
Shiner: A black eye
Sock: Punch
Skin: Fight with no weapons
Slug: Bullet ; Hit
Stay cool: Remain calm ; control yourself
“Give some skin”: High five or handshake
Spill: Tell information
Split: Leave ; Get out fast
Square: Uninteresting person; Someone never in trouble with law
Stuck: Stabbed [in context]
Sucker : Gullible person; Someone who was conned
Swingin’ : Exciting ; Hip ; throwing punches [in context]
Tanked: Drunk
“The man”: Figure of authority keeping systems in place [Oppressive] ; One who maintains status quo
Turf: Territory
War council: Meeting between organized gangs to work out issues or plan a fight
Waste: Kill
Weed: Cigarette
Whipped: Beaten
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snoopledrooplecheesedoodle · 3 months ago
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Day 4: Christmas Shopping: Sampo Koski
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My first Honkai fic for Christmas was going to be Dan Heng but Sampo managed to bargain his way to the top. Also What happened to characters that weren't in Penacony guys? Sunday and Adventurine aren't the only people you know (they are hot tho). Koski's English VA muah chef's kiss.
TW: Trickery (it's Sampo what do you expect), unfair bargains, reader not having any of the slimy man's antics, mentions of unethical business practices, kidnapping, a fucked-up Christmas in general
(*)= Whispering
Christmas in Belobog was interesting to say the least. Snow and ice were typical to see even with Bronya being the new Supreme Guardian. Freed from its icy curse the planet was still frozen over as if it didn't get the memo. Speaking of getting the memo...
You wanted a nice and easy shopping experience so you can get all your Christmas gifts for friends and family and leave. No drama, no fuss, no frills. All of these traits describe the cheerful "merchant" you had bumped into.
Sampo Koski... the Bane of Belobog, the slimiest of salesman, the one who got away (from the Silvermane Guards). The man of the hour was hustling...stocking stuffers? "That's right valued customers Sampo Koski guarantees these trinkets will put a smile on any adult or child." The blue haired charlatan spoke animatedly green eyes sparkling with joy and Christmas cheer (more like Christmas greed).
Any normal sane person would scoff at Koski and go to a legitimate business, which is exactly what you were doing before you got accosted. "What about you, statuesque stranger? You look like you could use some Christmas cheer." You ignore the man believing he personalizes with any sucker he can to get a sale.
However, no one says no to Sampo Koski. You learned this firsthand as the mythical man himself turns you around with a gloved hand. Cheerful smile never leaving his face as he holds your skeptical form in place.
"Hey there friend what's the rush? You won't find steals like my prices anywhere else in the entirety of Administrative Square, I wager my prices are best for an Overworld resident such as yourself." That obnoxious grin deserved to be slapped right off his frustratingly handsome face. "Buzz off Koski I know your reputation, leave law abiding citizens like me alone." You attempt to free yourself from his grip, but his gloved hands dig harder into your skin causing you to wince under the pressure.
"I can't believe someone as cute and intelligent looking as yourself would believe idle rumors so quickly. There's a lot of people hating on young entrepreneurs these days. Besides I only wish to bring joy around Christmas with my merchandise." Sampo gestures to the brightly colored bags of Christmas goodies spread on his makeshift table (the floor).
You will admit they do look very appealing; you could see your little siblings raving about the vibrant candy and toys if you bought a couple. You sigh knowing you're about to be ripped off big time.
"Alright Koski let's see what you got?" Koski stops his fake crying and shakes your shoulders with glee before manhandling you over to his "stand". "Excellent friend and please just Sampo is preferred as this exchange makes us friends now." You glare at him shaking your head making Sampo laugh a bit. "Well, the customer is always right."
You spot an adorable trotter plushie and a toy Silvermane guard perfect for your brother and sister. You smile imaging them grinning with some baby teeth missing. "I would like these please." You gesture to the two items you spotted Sampo's smile widens. "Excellent choice dear friend, both cost ten shield each...but for you dear friend I'm will to half that price." Sampo's generous offer make you wonder if the rumors that people have told you are true.
"Thank you Sampo, my little siblings will love these." Before you can hand him the ten shield total Sampo sticks his hand out. "While I love the enthusiasm dear friend, I'm afraid I'm not quite finished." You sour at the conman's words, of course he would do this. A mischievous twinkle enters the man's green eyes as he continues. "Halfing the price of two very rare dolls is simply bad business, I believe that something of equal value must be exchanged." Bitter bile rises up your throat as anger clouds your expression.
"Rare dolls my ass, if they're so rare why not sell them for one hundred shield, huh?!" Sampo holds his hands up in defense as his face becomes uneasy. "Speak gentler handsome friend, the *Silvermane Guards* will hear your impassioned speech." You are so angry at the blue haired man that you grab his collar without asking him to speak up at his whispered words. "Either sell me the dolls for ten shield or don't. I'm not wasting my time playing your games." Sampo cautiously looks around which makes you shake his collar in anger. The bastard won't even look you in the eyes.
"What are you-" "HALT, Sampo Koski you are under arrest for smuggling, selling illicit substances, fraud, and unlicensed sales of commercial goods." Five Silvermane guards surround the two of you with the commander speaking in a booming voice. "And here they are what wonderful timing on their part." Sampo mumbles at a decibel only the two of you can hear. You put Sampo down and raise your hands up backing away slowly. Technically you didn't buy said goods so you should be able to walk away and-
"HALT citizen, you are under arrest for attempting to buy fraudulent goods and aiding a criminal fugitive." Aiding a criminal fugitive?! Your eyes pop out of there skull as the Silvermane Guards close in on your shaking form and Sampo's unbothered one. This was it you were going to jail, you won't be able to buy present, you won't be able to celebrate with loved ones.
You won't be able to return home to your siblings.
You lower your head in defeat as there is no good in struggling as it might make you look more guilty. Sampo walked behind you a charismatic smile on his face. "Gentleman I'm sure we can handle this in a nonviolent manner. Perhaps put this whole incident behind us, it is the Christmas season after all." What is Sampo doing? You glare at the idiot behind you before he looks at you with an unreadable expression before turning back to the guards closing you in with their spears. Before you can move a hissing noise fills the air as a bomb lands in front of your feet.
Boom! A thick smoke fills the air causing you and the Silvermane Guards to cough harshly. The world around began to blur as you see an outline of a man lean down to pick you up. "Good thing I've always got a plan B huh? You can thank me when you wake up (Y/N)."
You groan as you feel great fatigue just from opening your eyes, it feels like you were hit by a blizzard. Straining to look around your surroundings you see you're in a hotel bed which was decent quality with the room around you being rather plain. Stretching your arms you attempt to sit up before feeling something holding you back. Your arms with tied to the bed as well as your legs. What the fuck was going on?
You were about to shout for help when the door opens revealing a very pleased Sampo Koski. It all clicked together his smug grin, the restraints, the soreness in your chest, the darkness outside the window. The slimeball kidnapped you.
"Koski what is the meaning of this?!" You shout causing Sampo to wince. "I think we need to work on your voice modulation skills but don't worry I love you all the same." WHAT?
"Before you ask dumb questions I'll answer them for you. You think it's a coincidence we met? No no Sampo Koski doesn't leave anything up to fate. As for where you are, we need to lay low in the Underground for a while. At least until WildFire catches word and Seele comes to catch us for her girlfriend."
The amount of information you just received was mind numbing. Also wasn't this the first time you met or had Sampo been stalking you? Probably the latter. Sampo's emerald eyes look down at you with a look you thought he only had reserved for money.
"Aw look at you (Y/N) all tied up like a Christmas present just for Sampo Koski!" His comment causes you to thrash wildly spitting curses. A harsh prick makes you come back to your senses. Sampo stands over you with an empty needle.
"You should take a nap; I almost thought you hated me for a second there. Oh, I knew "borrowing" some tranquilizers from Natasha would be a good investment." You try to fight but you're too tired and overwhelmed to make sense of anything. You glare at Sampo who looks down at you greedily
"Sleep tight darling, we've got a whole galaxy to see~"
You never did get your siblings those presents
I think I did a damn good job representing Sampo for being too mysterious and avoiding revealing his true intentions. I plan on doing one for Robin as well. This one isn't very romantic so it could be construed as platonic yandere as well.
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rona-yoo · 10 months ago
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𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞
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𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: by this sunshine. 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Willy x Fem!Reader 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,094 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Someone climbed onto your balcony. You know who it is and you are very happy to see each other. But would your father be happy to see a living dead man kissing his daughter? 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Fluff, kissing, fast relationship building, getting cought (kinda). 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: I didn't want any big work to come out of this, so I think I got it as I planned. As it looks pretty cute to me, so would love to hear what you think. Requests are open, and yes, for spicy ideas too. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐲 (𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐭𝐢𝐩). 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐒𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰.
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You slammed the door loudly and ran into your room. Without paying any attention to your father, who was still outraged somewhere on the first floor, you fell onto the bed, face into the pillows. His voice faded soon enough, but the anger that was boiling inside you wouldn't stop. How could he be so hard-headed? How could he act like a complete idiot for a completely stupid reason and not admit it?
You just overheard your father talking to the other cartel heads. You didn't get the full picture—the phone call stopped immediately. But no one was going to explain anything to you. All three of them hated Willy. That's what you knew for sure. And they'd hated him ever since they'd seen him in the gallery square from the windows of their stores. 
You have absolutely no interest in the family business. And especially the object of the business. All your life, on every holiday and on every significant occasion, you have received chocolate, among other gifts. And it became so much in your life that, at some point, you realized you couldn't stand it. But that very day, when Willy's singing caused a lot of people to crowd and block the doors of the Ficklegrubber's store that you happened to be in, you realized another thing. When you went out with your father to look at the weirdo who had set up shop in broad daylight, when you looked out from behind your father's back out of interest, thereby attracting Wonka's attention and getting a candy to try, you realized that your father's chocolate, and all chocolate produced by the cartel, was disgusting. It's so disgusting that from that moment on, you just can't take that filth in your mouth.
Willy's warm smile in response to your sincere reaction immediately put you at ease with him. You started laughing together when your father and the others started flying into the air, and when it came to you, he managed to grab you and steer you in the right direction and at the right speed so you wouldn't collide with anyone or hit the dome. You were already convinced at that moment that he was a decent and nice man. But you knew perfectly well that the 'great trinity' would destroy him with their influence, but when his store opened across the street, you had doubts in your mind. You couldn't go there yourself—you're the daughter of a competitor. But you sent a maid to buy more of his sweets. But when they came back, you found out what had happened inside. And you were furious. Surely it was their doing. Who else could he be interfering with? He, a nice, good-natured chocolatier?
And now, after Willy has been nowhere to be found for twenty-four hours, you hear your father's voice from the living room, happily discussing that they have finally “gotten rid of that pesky gnat”.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a thud. You lift your head from the pillow and look toward the balcony, but it's empty. Nothing out of the ordinary. Before you can put your head back down, there is a second thud, and this time you can see the top of someone's head behind the openwork fence. 
You leap out of bed instantly, running to the glass door leading to the balcony. You swing it open, and by then the unexpected guest has managed to climb up enough so that you can see his face. 
"Hey, Y/N," of course it's him. 
"Willy!" you exclaim as soon as you swing the door open, but immediately tone it down and continue with a whisper. "What are you doing here?" You run to the edge of the balcony and sit on your knees, resting your hands on the floor, so that you're almost at his level.
"I have a case to run,” he answers with a smile, but you have too many questions for you to just let him continue.
"Where were you? You just disappeared! What did the cartel tell you?" 
"I was supposed to sail far and wide, but I remembered something important."
"You...” you start, but then it clicks in your head and you realize. "They were gonna kill you?! They—"
"Listen,” Willy interrupts you, leaning forward as far as the edge of the balcony will allow. "We're going to expose them all. I understand he's your father, and I understand if you say no, but we really need your help."
“Who is 'we'?” You ask, losing the logical line of his words. But when you get the gist of it, you stop talking and think. On one hand, he is actually your father, but on the other, he was capable of murder. So senseless and ruthless. How could he? After a long pause, you sigh heavily, glancing back at the door to your room and returning your gaze to Willy. "I... honestly, I don't understand what's going on and what you're going to do, but... okay, I'll try to help. It blows my mind that my father is sitting carelessly on the couch in the living room after doing something like this."
Willy takes his hands off the ladder he's been holding onto and puts them over yours. 
"Thank you for agreeing." His tone became a little more serious. "Please tell me everything you know about the green ledger."
"The ledger?" You frown and ponder. "The last time I saw it was when I was about fourteen. It's probably in a safe under the cathedral now."
"Yeah, I already know that, but where exactly? They wouldn't put it in the most visible place."
"Let me see... Knowing all of them, they must have hidden it in some secret place. It'll probably be somewhere in the floor or in the wall. You can't put a combination lock in a place like that, so it's easy to open. Just knock and press on all surfaces that seem strange or too inconspicuous."
"Great, thanks again." 
He takes his hands off your arms, picks up the ladder again, and prepares to go down, but no sooner has he crossed one step and said goodbye to you than you grab him by the shoulder. 
"Aren't you going to explain anything to me?"
Willy raises his eyes at you.
"We don't have much time. I'll tell you everything as soon as it works out."
"You're going to break into the safe. What are the odds? You've already almost died, and you've only mentioned it in passing!"
"Trust me, it'll work," he answers, straightening up. 
You stare into his face, realizing that even if you try to talk him out of it, you won't succeed. Besides, it's obvious that he's not doing this for revenge, but for Noodle and the others. 
"Do you want to put him in jail?" you finally ask. Willy thinks and nods, to which you lower your head helplessly. "The chief of police is in on it with them..."
"If we find the ledger, it won't be a problem. Everyone involved in their schemes will be behind bars."
"Even I don't know the contents of that book, and you're so sure that information is enough? Are you sure it's going to work out exactly the way you want it to?"
"I am." Willy answers without hesitation.
"Good," you say, loosening your grip on his shoulder. He goes one step down, but you grab him again, crawling closer to the edge and resting your face against the railing. "Are you sure you're going to be okay? You have to tell me the whole story from beginning to end. Don't you dare die, leaving me in the dark!"
"Sure, I promise,” he chuckled. 
You look each other in the eye. You're well aware that something could happen to him, considering who he's dealing with. You realize that there's a chance this is the last time you'll see him, and so you have a thought in your head. A thought too intrusive to resist. Your gaze quickly runs from his eyes to his lips a few times before you let go of his shoulder, wrap two palms around his face, and pull him sharply to you, bringing your lips together in an impatient kiss. Willy loses his balance a little from surprise. The rest of his body pushes back a little, causing him to quickly grab the fence with one hand, humming against your lips. The other hangs in the air, unable to find a place for itself, but almost immediately it squeezes between the curls of the fence and rests on your cheek. It's more of a simple peck, and, assuming it's going to be quick, you start to pull away. But Willy pulls you back in, deepening the kiss, and you can't hold back a sigh. You've never been kissed like this before. You pull as close to each other as the fence allows. You literally press each other's faces into the metal patterns, the insurmountable barrier between you, trying to be even closer. Willy presses his torso against the fence, finding space to slip the other arm. He wraps it around your shoulders and pulls you toward him, so that you're now pressing your chest into the fence, too, and then he slowly slides it down to your waist. It's dangerous to linger, but neither of you can break away: as soon as one of you separates your lips, the other follows and connects them again. 
But then you hear a distant voice. It's like an electric shock—your father's coming up here. 
"Willy...” you try to say, but his lips are on yours and shuts you right away. You try to pull away, but he reacts in time to pull you back by the waist. You let go of his face and put your hands on his shoulders, sliding them down a little. You don't push him away, but you let him know it's dangerous to continue. "My father, my father... Father is coming up here!"
He pulls away immediately, throwing a quick glance behind you at the door. Ficklegrubber Sr.'s perturbations become clearer. 
"You have to go!" you whisper in panic, rising from your knees.
Willy lets you go. Again, due to the sudden movement, he tries to balance on the stairs and starts to descend. You straighten up and turn to face the door, not leaving the balcony, so that you can cover Willy and the edge of the ladder with yourself and your dress if he doesn't get down completely before your father bursts into your room. 
"That won't do, young lady!" comes from right outside the door. "Your behavior is unacceptable, and I won't have you talking to your own father like that because of that worthless little Wonka—” The door swings open, and Felix literally flies into the room, looking around for you. 
"I told you to knock, Dad." You say it nonchalantly and judgmentally, drawing attention to yourself.
"Don't snap at me! I'm going to tell you off now—” He turns toward the direction the voice is coming from, but instantly stops talking, glaring at you. You see his face stretch as he examines you from head to toe. "What... what's happened with your face?" you frown, not understanding the point of the question, but you immediately remember: your face was pressed into the fence a few moments ago, so it's definitely imprinted with its patterns now. "And... why is your lipstick so smeared?"
You're panicking. You have to come up with an answer quickly. That's when you hear the clatter of shoes hitting the ground. Followed by a barely audible rustle as the ladder was being removed. Great, Willy is already downstairs, which means you need to draw your father's attention away from the balcony so he doesn't come out and bend over to see what's going on down there.
"I ate your chocolate again and vomited. I wouldn't have made it to the restroom, but I wouldn't have thrown up right next to the bed either." You walk into the room and approach your father, stopping at his side and adding before you leave. "You want to be sure? Go take a look."
Immediately after you say that, he wrinkles his nose, a look of disgust appearing on his face. He gags, but you ignore that when you're already in the hallway. But no sooner do you get down to the first floor, bypassing your father's assistant, when you hear him come out of your room and follow you.
"Young lady!"
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𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: none.
𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.
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© 𝐚𝐲𝐲𝐤𝐨-𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐚-𝐲𝐨𝐨 — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧/𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝.
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