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fruitoftheweek · 3 years ago

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Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 4:Showered in Sin

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Hey guys! I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to update this. I had an idea of what I was going to write but I had a super hectic week so I wasn't able to write this till now. In order to make up for it, I have given you a treat. A 6,502 word chapter. It kinda beat my ass but I had so much fun writing it. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's all the goodness you guys deserve. I was listening to Duvet by Boa while writing this and I think you should too for two reasons. One, it helps set the mood, but also oh my fucking god it's such a good song. Also, Boa is just a fucking great band. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! Love you guys

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After a game of drunk never have I ever after a long case, Morgan locks Spencer out of their shared room. Shenanigans ensue and you and Spencer share a couple of firsts.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, slight mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slight blood kink (not really, it's just hard to explain), Shared masturbation (male and female receiving), pleading, multiple orgasms, cumming in pants, shower sexiness, aftercare

Word Count: 6,502

Your deep cherry lipstick painted the white seal of the wine bottle you held in your hand as you laughed at something Elle said. Spencer couldn't help but let a small smile pass his lips as he took in your form, hot from the day's work, small strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, a dewy glow illuminating your rosy cheeks.

After a long week, they had found Carl Arnold before he had been able to kill the Dunken family and even coerced a confession out of him. With spirits running high, Elle had suggested some much-needed relaxation before taking off the next day. Since you were rooming alone, you volunteered to host in your room. Morgan had arrived at your hotel room with two bottles of some sort of liquor, one clear and one amber, JJ trailing in toe with your bottle of red wine you had asked for. You pulled out your little corkscrew with the face of an old man on it, knowing she hated his weird little face. You brought it with you on trips, just in case the occasion arose.

And it did arise as Elle suggested a drinking game. Hotch had retired early after calling Hailey to get an update on his very pregnant wife, while Gideon preferred the solitude of a good book late at night. The rest of you sat on the floor surrounded by drinks and snacks. With the supervision gone, it almost felt like a high school party with no parents. You all had all settled on a classic, never have I ever. "We haven't played this in a long time because we already know so much about each other, but it's fun when we have a newbie around," Morgan said giving you a cheeky smile and bumping your shoulder. Already pliable after the couple of drinks you had while Elle explained the game, you nodded before tipping your lips to the cusp of Spencer's ear. "I'll try not to make it too hard for you, pretty boy," you said. The small puffs of air that left your mouth made Spencer's hair stand on end and his feet curl.

He knew you were teasing him that night and he loved it. He decided to keep his knees tucked to his chest for the rest of the night as to not expose the predicament in his pants. He watched the way you lightly sucked on the wine bottle as you tipped it back, a thin river of cabernet leaking from the corner of your lips and trailing down your neck. Spencer wanted nothing more than to lean over and lap it off of you just to see how you would react, but he knew it was the drinks talking. Despite your earlier comment, it was quite obvious that you were targeting him as his head started to spin gently.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone much older than me," Garcia said through her video feed with a cheeky smirk. Derek had insisted on including her even though she wasn't physically present. She sat bundled up in a comfy blanket in her office with a mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. "HEY! No targeting! Plus, I told you that in confidence at ladies night. How much is much older?" You said, swaying your bottle towards the computer set up on the floor."You know how much older I mean sweetheart." Garcia said with a giggle as you groaned and took a sip."How much older is much older?" Morgan said with a cocked eyebrow, somewhere between impressed and surprised." I was a college student, experimenting with my professor. Not like an old man, but he was 20 years older than me. Definitely not my style anymore though." You said with a grimace remembering him.

Spencer had learned a lot about your sex life during that game, but some part inside of him smirked, knowing that the rest of the team would never know you as he knew you, not unless they too had read your journal. It was the only thing keeping his head clear of the idea of you with anyone else. Not that you were with him in any capacity, but the idea still made him feel something in his stomach. Not the sweet butterflies that came with your smile, but something more like idiotic hornets dangerously bumping against the walls of his stomach.

Spencer hadn't even noticed the uproar of everyone else around the circle at your comment and the second revelation that Morgan had drunk too. He was too busy watching how you had shyly tucked your hair behind your ear, finally letting it down out of your clips for once. You were wearing your pajamas, just a tank top, slouchy sweater, and flannel pajama pants, but somehow you looked more radiant than ever. He had come back down to earth after hearing someone call his name."Y-Yes?" He sputtered out, realizing you had been trying to get his attention."It's Morgan's turn, pay attention." You said, gently smacking your hand down on his thigh.

If he was riled up before, he was unbelievably undone at the slight sting from where your palm had just been. Light enough that it wasn't noticeable, but hard enough that it erupted a Shockwave through his body, centered on the location of the contact. He bit back the whimper threatening to escape his lips as he turned towards Morgan, trying desperately to not watch you from the corner of his eye.

"Never have I been a virgin at 24," Morgan said, beaming in his direction. Spencer took a big gulp from his glass of whiskey."You always do that one, I don't know why you think it's so funny, you're just trying to get me to drink" he said abashedly. He looked over at you, nervous for your reaction, but you seemed unfazed. "Hey, that's a wonderful gift to have, there's something so special about virgins. Maybe it's the idea that everything is new, but I like it. I love virgins." You said, taking a sip from your bottle, gently swaying. You had given up on never have I ever and just decided to drink whenever you felt like it. Maybe it was because you were tipsy, maybe it was the warm flush that decorated Spencer's cheeks, maybe it was the way he was looking at you with sultry, half-lidded eyes. You couldn't tell, but something made you want to find an excuse for you two to be alone.

"Geese, we seemed to have caught a succubus tonight." Morgan quipped."A suck-you-what now?" You said, cocking an eyebrow at him. " A succubus, it's a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form, that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening." Spencer shot out. "Wow, even when you're drunk, your big brain keeps chuggin' along," you said, sloppily ruffling his hair "A beautiful seductress or enchantress, huh?" That time it came out low, inaudible to the others, but it pierced Spencer like a knife."Do you think that's accurate bout me?" you asked, staring up into his eyes, closer than you have been before. Spencer let a cartoonish gulping noise escape his lips as he held back his urge to lean into your touch.

"Ah, it's my turn," you said, leaning back into your spot in the circle and sadly, away from Spencer." Never have I ever done something naughty at our work," you said, looking straight at Spencer "I'll know if you're lying, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," your cocky smirk leaking out of your mouth. Everyone except you and JJ took a shot."Wow, really you guys? Even you Spence? " JJ said in disbelief, looking around the circle."Never have I ever, my ass" Spencer mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, looking over at you, thinking about your pantieless escapades.

"Look at that, Doctor Reid, you need another drink, let me go fix you one," You said as you grabbed his glass in one hand, leaning and gripping hard into his shoulder with the other. It wasn't seen by the others, but between that and the fiery look in your eyes, it sent an obvious message,' keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you.' You used him as leverage to get up, nearly pushing him over as you gracefully stumbled to the hotel fridge. He knew what you meant, but he didn't care, your grip on him went straight into his imagination as he envisioned what that grip would feel like in other places. He kind of wanted to push his luck, just so he could see what he had in store.

And push it he did as you handed him the glass, reminding him that it was indeed his turn to play never have I ever. "Never have I ever slept with my professor," He said, obviously targeting you with a glint of mischief in his eyes."Oh yeah, well never have I ever been a virgin at 24." You said, swaying as you sat down."Morgan already said that, dummy. Never have I ever worn stupid dark red lipstick" He retorted, equally as drunk as you. At this point everyone else had zoned you two out and were focused on other things, refreshing their drinks, counting the ceiling tiles, humming a sloppy rendition of My My Miss American Pie, or in Penelope's case, all three."Yeah, well never have I ever been a complete and utter mommas boy!" You continued, the statement turning Spencer beet red. You watched him clench and unclench his hands, you had obviously struck a nerve. Just as you were about to apologize, he cut you off. "Never have I ever had nipple piercings!" He shouted, pointing at your chest, now drawing attention to the obvious balls framing your nipples that you had once been covered by your long-forgotten sweater.

As he said it, it felt like the world went in slow motion. You could see the instant regret on his face as you dropped your bottle in surprise. It had landed on Spencers discarded whiskey glass and both shattered, wine and whiskey mixing with glass to create a slurry on the ground between them. "Fuck! You Guys!" Morgan said, "You got it all over my clothes." "Me too," Echoed Elle as they both stood up in their soaked clothes. "I think that calls it a night." JJ said, closing the laptop on the image of an already sleeping Garcia." Bye you guys, sleep well," you called after them as you and Spencer rushed around looking for towels to clean up the alcohol with.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Spencer cried as you dropped the last of the glass in the garbage can. As you rounded the corner, you saw Spencer pulling a rather large shard of glass that you must have missed out of his thumb, blood pooling at the tip. Without thinking, you crouched down and sucked his thumb into your mouth." A-ah! What... What are you doing!?" Spencer asked breathlessly, looking down at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. You pop off his thumb and squeeze it at the base, slowing the blood flow."Shut up," You said," This helps slow the bleeding. The sucking applies pressure. My mom used to do this for me... And no, do not psychoanalyze that." You said, wrapping your mouth around his finger, sucking to provide some pressure to slow the blood flow. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you didn't mind, knowing you were helping your friend.

You were helping alright, helping in more ways than you would ever understand. "Yeah, like I'm the only one here with mommy issues," he said distractedly, too busy surveying your lips wrapped around him. You slapped your hand down on his thigh once more, eliciting a small whimper from him. He couldn't help it, you were a sight of beauty, you always were, but looking down on you right then, Spencer wanted to bottle that moment forever. The tops of your breasts peeking out from the top of your tank top, your eyes filled with a hazy glow, looking up at him to make sure he was ok, and your cheeks hollowing out around his thumb as you delicately sucked on his wound. It was as close as Spencer had ever gotten to anything sexual. He could feel your tongue swirling around the cut, lapping up the last couple drops of blood. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was another appendage and not his thumb. You sucked on his thumb one last time, harder than you had previously, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hips bucked up, rubbing his hard cock against his pajama pants, finally relieving his mounting orgasm.

You let go of his finger with a pop as your tongue trailed off of the underside of his thumb. Spencer looked anywhere but you, as a wet patch formed through his thin underwear and pajama pants. He hurried to cover it with his sweater, shooting up from his seated position."Um, Um, I'm g-gonna go shower and go to bed." He said, hurriedly scurrying over to where he had left his room key." Sorry partner, I saw Morgan accidentally grab both of your keys on the way out. He's probably asleep by now." You said languidly, leaning back to take in the sight of the soft boy in front of you. Totally flushed with heat, small beads of sweat peppering his forehead, his hands twiddling suspiciously into his sweater in an attempt to conceal crotch, trying and failing miserably to hide his rapidly cooling cum.

He whined a little, lighting a fire in you. He looked so thoroughly fucked out, and all you had done was suck his finger. You knew that you just had to play with him some more. "You know, you can use my shower, doctor." You said, and he let out a small sigh of relief, heading towards the bathroom. "There is one condition, though," You smirked coyly as he halted his motions, his body facing away from you. It was almost as if he was ready to run away at any moment. You walked over to him, slowly, taking your time to tease him. The silence hung heavy in the air as you looked up into his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to ask. "Wh-what is the condition." He said, unable to return your gaze, hands fisted in the hem of his sweater, pulling it down even further. You smirked, dipping your hands up and under his sweater, nearly brushing his spent cock before gently placing them on his bare stomach, just above his waistband. He sucked in a tight breath as you gently swirled your fingers in the short hair that lead from his belly button down to happier places." Before I ask, do you know about the color scale?" you said, fingers smoothing out over his little stomach." Um, k-kinda?" He said, heat flushing his cheeks."Green means good keep going, yellow means slow down, and red means stop right now, ok?" You said, looking up at him as he nods."Come on pretty boy, I need verbal confirmation. I need to know that you understand, got it." You said with a little pinch to his tummy. "Y-Yes, I understand!" He blurted out, standing stiff as a board." Good boy. Now, for my condition. You can shower if you show me what you're hiding." You said, leaning close enough that if Spencer breathed, your chests would meet each other. "What color, Spencer?" you said, languidly drawing lines up and down his torso with your nails."G-Green, Very green." He sputtered out, finally meeting your eyes."That's what I like to hear, sweet boy." You said before your fingers danced below his waistline, now somewhat crusty from his cum."W-wait!" He says, just as you were about to take him in your hand. You instantly stopped and looked up at him gently."We can stop here baby, it's not a problem." You said, beginning to remove your hand from his pants. He grabbed your hand through his pants, stopping your movement."It-It's not that. I don't want to stop, I just want... well..." He said and looked down shyly. "What do you want baby, anything," You smiled up at him. "Um, I haven't had my first kiss yet and I kinda... Well... I kinda..." He said, shuffling his feet, face beet red. Your eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise before letting out a gentle smile."Do you want a kiss, pretty boy?" You said, gently brushing the hair out of his face. He nodded, and you grabbed his chin, bringing him close. "Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?" You whispered, breath gently ghosting Spencer's lips as he took you in up close. He could see every little pore and dimple of your skin and every color hidden in the depth of your eyes and he knew he needed to have you.

He shakily leaned forward, lips gently meeting yours, so light that if you hadn't seen his actions, you wouldn't have even known if you had touched. You moved your hand down to his throat, giving a light squeeze."Come on genius, use your words," you said as he whimpered. "Please, can I kiss you, please, please?" He begged, leaning into your touch, pleading for you to squeeze again. His efforts shoot straight to your heart. You indulged him in a kiss, not as spicy as the situation would permit, more of a sweet heat. He came in too hot and heavy at first, but you kissed him languidly, gently stroking his cheek to get him in the rhythm. His arms were straight out at his sides, hands clenched as if he was willing every muscle in his body to not touch you.

You let out a small laugh as you melted into his kiss, soft, puffy lips dancing across yours. "You know you can touch me," You said, pulling back, smiling at the smear of your lipstick, now staining his lips, and the endearing puppy dog eyes he was giving you. "Where can I touch you?" He whispered out as if he were telling a secret. "Wherever you want, baby. Wherever your heart desires." You replied, bringing your arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling your bodies closer. He was as stiff as a board as his hands flitted around trying to find a good place to land. He finally settled on weaving his arms around your waist and up to cradle your neck, gently carding his fingers through the hair that fell at the nape of your neck. There was something so sweet in the way he cradled your body with feather-light touches as if you would disappear like smoke if he lingered too long. You reveled in the feeling of you two pressed together, slightly uncomfortable at the stiff material of his pajama pants on your stomach.

"Hey sweetheart," You said, pulling away as he chased after your lips, "I'm feeling kinda sweaty from the day, would you like to join me in the shower? What color?" "G-green, yes please." He said, tentatively pressing a kiss to your collarbone, exposed as the strap of your tank top had fallen down. You unwound from him, taking his hand delicately in your own, instantly missing the warmth his body provided.

You lead him into the bathroom, carefully stepping over the wine-soaked towels discarded on the floor before shutting the door and turning to face him. "I don't want to take this too fast for you because I know it's all very new so always tell me how you are feeling and if everything is ok. I want this to be good for you baby, ok?" You said, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with yours. "Ok, th-thank you," He said shyly.

"Now, what do you want to do first? You're probably pretty uncomfortable in those pants, do you want me to take them off you?" You said, hooking one of your fingers into his waistband, pulling on in slightly creating a much-needed separation between his sticky cock and his uncomfortable pants."Y-Yes please" He said as you turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up in preparation for cleaning him off before turning back to him. You gently grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Lean muscles were hidden under a layer of peachy soft skin highlighting the gentle trail of dark curly hair leading from his belly button down past his pants. His arms curled around himself as he watched your eyes carefully, ready for some sort of judgment. "I know I'm not really that s-strong or anything but I can work on it-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss right above his belly button, startling him. You looked up sweetly into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, saying "You are so beautiful, Spencer. Morgan calls you pretty boy, but he truly has no idea. I would have you no other way than you are right now."

You gently peppered his chest with feather-light kisses, making him blush. He finally understood why people liked hickeys because as you trailed down his chest, the little wine red lipstick you had left on your lips left marks trailing down his chest. Some part of him wished they were permanent, showing off to all that could see, and they would know exactly who he belonged to. You dipped your hand into his waistband, asking, "What color?" "Green, very green," he choked out as your breath ghosted across his abdomen. You looked so beautiful, kneeled on the floor in front of him, taking care of him so gently and treating him so sweetly that he could feel his cock begin to harden again.

You looked up into his eyes as you pulled his pants down. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he was uncaged from his unfortunate trouser situation. His cock flipped down out of his pants, nearly smacking you in the forehead as you looked up at it in awe. Even though it was only semi-hard, it was bigger than any you had ever seen before. Spencer looked down at you shyly "it's not that much, I-I know but I've been researching techniques to make up for it in order to give sufficient pleasure for you- I mean for whatever partners I may have, not that I am saying that I won't please you, I dream of pleasuring you! ... I'm digging myself a hole aren't I."He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "Spencer, you are huge. Way more than I have ever had before. See?" You said, standing up, gently lifting his cock in your hand, measuring it against your stomach.

Maybe Spencer hadn't noticed because it was proportionate to his body and his big hands, but being held in your petite hands and measured against your stomach, he finally did see how much he would fill you up. The tip of his dick just barely reached past the gems that decorated your belly button piercing. "W-Woah." He said growing harder at the thought of pushing so deep into you. He looked up to your face, which was preoccupied with looking down at how far he would reach up in you.

Tearing your eyes away from him and up to his own, you flushed, knowing that he had caught you staring. "What would you like me to do next?" You spoke softly. Despite being the only two in the room, you two both talked in hushed tones, worrying that anything more than that would burst the delicate bubble you two had created. "Can we match?" He said, and you instantly understood him, despite the odd vernacular. You began to slip off your shirt, but he stopped you with an arm on your shoulder. "C-Can I do it?" He said shyly. "Of course, pretty baby," you barely get out before he drifted his hands under your tank.

He slowly lifted your top over your head as he took in the soft smooth feeling of your skin against his, goosebumps pricking up wherever his fingers trailed. You stood in front of him, shirtless as he took in your form. He had imagined what your breasts would look like. Nipples always hard due to your piercings, what your jewelry would look like, but nothing could prepare him for the glimmering moonstone gems that adorned your nipples and navel. Everything matched exactly, including the delicate necklace you wore around your neck.

The only thing he liked more than the perfection of your body was the features that made you, you. Some might call them imperfections, but to Spencer, all he could see in you was beauty. The gentle bruises on your skin from tangles with unsubs, the soft stretch marks that adorned your hips like little valleys and winding rivers, the slight blemishes, and hairs. He loved it because you were the embodiment of the confidence he wished for in himself. While he was always nervous about his body and how others perceived him, you loved yourself for exactly who you were, and you loved him for exactly who he was.

He pulled down your pants, gently following the twist and turn of the stretch marks as they winded down your hips, making sure to kneel down to pull them all the way off of you as you delicately stepped out, gently grabbing onto his hair to keep your balance as you swayed. He moaned softly at the gentle tug of your fingers while he stared up at you in awe. You took his hand in yours, coaxing him to stand.

You both stood there, taking in each other's forms for a moment, hands still connected as if by a thread at the pinky before you spoke. "We shouldn't waste water. Let me clean you off, sweetheart." He nodded before following after you into the gentle spray of the shower, steam now filling the room. He marveled at the way that the water droplets cascaded down your body, gently running down your curves. "Come here," you said, pulling him into a gentle embrace under the hot water.

Your two bodies pressed gently together, and Spencer couldn't help but think that you were molded for each other. Not in the way that a sculptor may stick two unmatched pieces of clay together with slip, more like one rock that had been split by the earth finally returning together. Something about your touch felt like home as you gently cradled him under the water.

He was so enthralled in your being that he didn't notice you gently scrubbing him with a washcloth until the scent of your body wash permeated the air. You gently scrubbed his back, washing off the sweat of the day and replacing it with you. He melted into you as your hands reached up, lathering his hair with shampoo. He wasn't sure if it was because he realized you should probably be getting washed too or because he desperately wanted to ride his hands along the planes of your body, but he decided to lather up his hands and wash you as well. "You are such a good boy. Thank you for cleaning me up" You said, resting your head gently on his chest, softly swirling the soap around his back, now finished scrubbing all you could from that angle, waiting to turn him around.

He moved carefully, avoiding your butt, still too nervous to touch. "Make sure you get everything, sweet boy. I like to be clean when I go to bed." You said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to cup your butt. He inhales a sharp breath as he indulged in a gentle squeeze, continuing to wash you. He washed your back but his hands would occasionally drift down to your ass, growing more confident as he unknowingly rocked into you slightly with every squeeze, letting out soft keening noises.

You peeled yourself off of him as he rutted into the air, whining at the loss of friction. "Slow down, naughty boy. Bad boys don't get to touch. Are you a bad boy?" you asked as you placed a finger on the tip of his cock, swirling it in the precum pooling there despite the water's efforts to wash it off. "No, no! I'm a good boy! You're just so pretty, and you feel so good, and you smell so nice, and I wanna touch you, and I want you to touch me, please." He blurted out, looking at you with hungry eyes, begging for more friction. "Where do you want to touch me baby?" you asked as his eyes raked over your body, taking in all of his options. "I want to touch your boobies and your- your-" "My what? You can say it, naughty boy." You cut him off in his stammering. "Your pussy, I want to touch your pussy." He said, the hot water spreading the blush from his cheeks down his chest, tingeing his cock with a pretty pink hue. "What naughty words from such a pretty boy. You can touch-" he cut you off, lunging towards your body before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing experimentally. Not too hard, not too soft. He moaned, and you felt the vibrations traveling up your hands."Let me finish what I was saying. Naughty boys don't get to touch. They get spanked." You said as he mewled." What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that you can touch, AFTER I wash you and after you finish washing me. Only after, you got it?" you said, squeezing a little tighter. "Y-yes." he croaked out. "Good boy," you replied.

You washed out the shampoo in his hair, replacing it with conditioner as he did the same for you. You squirted more soap onto your washcloth, preparing to test him. You took the washcloth in your hand, slowly working over his legs, arms, and chest, teasingly brushing over his overspent cock before returning to cleaning him. He washed you thoroughly, taking care to wash your legs before making sure your stomach and belly button piercing were thoroughly cleaned. Finally, he reached up to wash the leftover makeup off of your face. He touched you like a porcelain doll, worried that you would crack under even the slightest pressure, making you giggle. He flinched, thinking he hurt you, but you grabbed his face in your hands, delivering him a kiss that covered his face in soap.

You both stood there, laughing for a second, relishing the moment before you let out a shy smile. "You can touch my chest now, but make sure you clean my piercings carefully." He looked down at your chest, and now that he'd been given permission, he didn't really know what to do. You could see the puzzled look on his face so you grabbed one of his soapy hands in yours and brought it to your breast. He squeezed experimentally, and you let out a gentle moan. You had been keeping in your arousal to draw out his teasing, but you couldn't hold yourself back as you felt his large hands grasp around your chest and roll your nipple in his fingers.

There was a sweet dichotomy in the harshness of his grasp on your boob, coupled with the gentle twist of your nipple. It was as if he was worried to hurt your piercings, so he made up for it in his grasp. You brought the washcloth down to his cock, hard against his stomach, and began to work him. He whined at the harsh material. "I need to clean you up, baby. You still have a cummy cock. If you beg hard enough when I'm done, I will touch you." You said into his ear as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He was overstimulated, and you could tell, so you decided you wouldn't take as long as you wanted to tease him. But you would still draw it out for your own pleasure. He was bucking and mewling into you as you roughly got him off. It shot you straight to your core, the heat from the shower mixed with his grasp on you, physically and visually, had you closer than you wanted, and deep down you just wanted him to touch you.

When you deemed him clean enough you let the rag drop to the floor. "Beg" you moaned out. "Please, please touch me, I want your hand on me, that's all I want." He whined, bucking into the air. You took pity on him, grasping him with your soap-covered hand. He hissed as your soft touch replaced the rough rag and you could tell he was close. "Touch me, Spencer." You said and his hand shot to your core. His tentative moves giving way to a natural confidence. As he slipped a hand between your folds he could feel you dripping with desire. "O-Oh my god," was all he could stammer out before sinking two of his fingers into your depths, thumb circling your clit. You knew his fingers were long, and you had even fantasized about this exact moment, but nothing could prepare you for his actual length. He had said he did research but that was proven by how quickly he found your g spot and clit. You doubled over in pleasure as his fingers thoroughly fucked you out.

"Spencer, I'm so close, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum." You said, slumping against his shoulder, rubbing yourself against his hand. "Mommy, I'm cumming." He said, looking into your eyes as his body shuttered. His words ricochetted around in your brain, sending you over the edge as you cum all down his hand. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your scream, just as he matched you, cumming down your hand.

You came down from your high as Spencer nearly collapsed onto you. You took extra care in making sure he was all clean before helping him out of the shower and into a towel. He leaned against you the whole time as you got him ready for bed. You forced him to brush his teeth before dragging him to bed.

He sat at the edge, eyes bleary with sleep, taking in the events of the day. You sat behind him, gently toweling off his hair before brushing it and putting lotion on his body. He leaned into your touch, appreciating being cared for, feeling as if everything had been a dream. "C-Can I sleep here? I mean Morgan locked me out and I don't have pants and-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss."Of course, sweetheart, do you want to cuddle? It's ok if you don't or if you want this to be a one-time thing, it's all up to you, baby." You said, gently sweeping his hair out of his face as he looked up with eyes the size of dinner plates. "We can do this more than once? You'll let me? For real?" He asked. "Only if you want to sweetheart. This is all about you." You said, giving him a small smile tinged with a slight sadness. "That's not very fair, I want it to be about you too. What do you want?"

The question knocked you off guard. You're not used to people asking what you want. Usually, people just take and give none in return. The fact that Spencer Reid, your adorable virgin coworker was asking you what you wanted with such a sincere look, caused tears to prick into your eyes. "No one has asked me that in a long time," you smiled, "I would love to do this, and more again with you Spencer. Whenever you want." He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down so you were lying next to each other on the bed. "Whenever we want" He corrected, cuddling into you.

You surveyed the bite make you left on his shoulder, running your hand over it. "Sorry for marking you up, I didn't mean to hurt you." You said softly as he blushed. "I-I was actually wondering... well... could you maybe give me a hickey? I like that you marked me." He said. You obliged him, giving him long kisses and sucks, gradually working up your force until a large purple bruise had formed on his collar bone. He was gently moaning the whole time, but you didn't want to work him up again as he had already cum twice that night and you didn't think he could handle more. He looked down at it as you pulled away, and you could see a question lingering on his mind.

"What's up?" you asked, smoothing his hair with your hand. "You said you hadn't been asked what you want in a long time, and I was wondering, well... who gave you your piercings?" he asked tentatively and you laughed." You have been reading my book too much, how many chapters have you read?" You said and he looked up at you surprised."You knew? and... well... only 3 chapters. I didn't want to pry into your private life." He said. "You just pried enough to know I want to get pierced by someone?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Before he could get an excuse out, you cut him off. "Well for a genius, you obviously didn't read it that carefully. I said I WOULD like to be pierced during sex, meaning I have not before. These are just standard piercings from a piercing shop, not a big deal, I just like the way they look." You said and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why? d'you get jealous?" you questioned him. He looked down and nodded shyly.

"I can be a lot of firsts for you but if you play your cards right, you can be a lot of firsts for me too. You already gave me a first tonight. You called me mommy. No one's done that before but it was really hot. I liked it a lot." You said matter of factly. "But that is a conversation for another day. It is 2 am and we need to be on a flight at 7:30, so let's get some sleep." You said, turning off the lights and cuddling up close to him. In a matter of seconds, you both were asleep, tangled into each other's arms, both of you feeling, for once, safe and sound.

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

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Well wasn't that a doozy. I had so much fun writing that and I think it paid off for sure. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my beloved tag list, speaking of which.

@spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #sub spencer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #sub!spencer #pervspence #pervespencer #perve spencer reid #perv spencer reid

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rhythmic-idealist · 2 years ago

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Wow, that reblog on that trans woman's post was really obnoxious. No one is fucking responsible for someone else's trauma. If you can't refrain from making people WHO HAVE PERSONALLY DONE NOTHING TO YOU uncomfortable, afraid or ashamed then that's on you, no one else.

Also, knock the condescension down a notch or three.

Well, I typed a response here and it's been just thrown into the void by Tumblr, so I'll do my best. It's wordier now, because I'm sleepy, but I felt you deserved a thoughtful response (which you don't need to read, but deserve the option to read). Deleting the tags.

The tags, for posterity (I think that reading a post about something that's been deleted can be both stressful and useless without context):

If it's worth anything to you, here are the other points? In the end this bit does not matter but I know some people will generally prefer to know what was going through my head here (and others will not! I personally am reassured by knowing Why someone said some weird shit):

Basically on first read I thought that last sentence was doing a sort of weird and needless "ummm if you look at your trigger you're not traumatized??" at people doing the normal good faith act of Being Traumatized About Penises and seeking good faith advice on how to be normal. This is not because I assume transphobes speak in good faith: it's because I somehow didn't realize the last paragraph was addressed to people who say they should't have to see trans women's bulges in public. This felt very strange to me, and was not me assuming OP Would Say A Thing Like That. It in fact startled me so much that I was like what I'm confused by this. I failed to read grammar.

Back when I thought it said that I still had no problem with it being said. Raises the question of if a tag saying I disagree with it is a reasonable thing to do but also not a question we need to answer since, well, the decision has long been "I'm more comfortable deleting the tags regardless"

I want to be extremely fucking clear to any potential transphobes in the audience. Being triggered by specifically trans women's penises/bulges isn't a thing. Reasons for this do include but are not limited to the fact that you literally do not know the gender of a person when you are looking at them. But that is also, like, perhaps the smallest fucking reason and maybe even a distracting one to bring up here. --- IF there is one person in the world for whom it is a thing, then sure, literally anything is possible, surely someone somewhere is triggered by guys who do tapdances in funny little hats or whatever. No discourse is required about that and no one is doing anything wrong by existing. --- Being specifically uncomfortable with trans women is a thing. White women feeling uncomfortable around black men is also a thing. This is called bias, and, even (especially!) when it manifests internally as fear, absolutely fucking must be worked on and overcome.

Anyway, thanks for the message.

This is a REAL long post about something that I don't want to accidentally present as more... struggling for adjectives here.... than it is because of the length of the post? This is also hard to articulate. What I mean is that my tags were never about a very strong opinion and that my opinions of OP were never negative. What I do NOT mean is that the OTHER side of this interaction is something that must be downplayed. Reasonable response, ty.

Final addition that for the record I don't think I was ever saying anyone is responsible for anyone else's trauma, I was very much saying the opposite? I was saying that so many other ways in which penis related trauma is triggered can just be other completely innocent parts of day to day life, so the existence of trans women is not some kind of exception. Especially if you're not going to indict the sheer existence of cis men, but also, even if you are going to (it's a bad take).

I still think they were bad tags though so they're gone now.

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anigmagrl · 3 years ago

Text

My Thank You to the Kastle Authors.

(Part of a comment left for Edourado's Ordinary People)

I'm still in shock and awe that you all do this for free.

I will admit right now I'm a reader. Always have been. Never went anywhere without at least one book. On the subway, people listened to music, I had my nose stuck in a book. Still do. So when I say I've read thousands upon thousands of books, I'm not exaggerating. I fed my addiction through weekly visits to the library. Couldn't afford it otherwise. But I'd go through a couple dozen a month.

I got sucked into this fandom in March (2020). Since then, I've been reading anything Kastle (with some awesome Karedevil thrown in once in a while) voraciously. I've probably read at least over a thousand stories by now- I read fast and have no life. There's this little core group of you amazing Kastle writers that have blown my mind with your talent. I can't even fathom the time you put into these stories let alone everything else needed while you're living your everyday lives. And you do it all for free.

The generosity I've seen, not just in these amazing free pieces of art and your hearts you share, but also the support for each other is inspiring. I feel like I need to thank each of you because you all (and your stories) saved me during COVID.

Neatmonster ever wrote a story just for me. And it was so fucking good in still squealing about #MattWho? Gave me somewhere to go, to channel anxiety, a world that's safe... Unless you're reading bottledbliss, then no one's safe. Especially not Karen. I still read and cry and then bitch and moan why???

But wow. You guys are seriously effin amazing and I wish I could somehow let you all know how much your work has affected me and many others. I'm just grateful I found this and I hope you all never stop writing.

Alright this is way too long and I'm going stop now. Maybe I'll turn this into some sort of long protracted thank you letter and send it out to you guys.

THANK YOU. There's a lot of you out there. You all know who you are. I'm a dumbass who doesn't know how to tag so....

#Kastle Authors #ao3 #fanfic authors rock #@darlingshane

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miss-smutty · 3 years ago

Text

The Destructive Secret

Chapter 4

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter devastation. It's only so long until your lies are going to catch up to you.

Pairing- Chris Hems x Reader x Liam Hems

Word count- 2,211

Warnings- Smut, swearing, angst, cheating

18+ Only!!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 29th June 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @mostly-marvel-musings @longlostinanotherworld

>The Destructive Secret Masterlist<

"No not married but you do know her. You know her really well actually." Chris says while avoiding your gaze purposefully...

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife, silence so acute you could hear a pin drop. Liam waiting for an answer, Chris looking at his feet and you looking visibly anxious. Chris had drank way too much and now he was about to let all of your secrets loose. This isn't the way you want Liam to find out, surely Chris wouldn't be so cruel.

"I suppose you're not gonna tell me who it is?"

"Not just yet, see how we go." He looked at you, if he so much as even looked slightly smug you would have slapped him right across his face. Instead you could see the hurt in his eyes, tears welling in the corners. You're both faced with an impossible dilemma, Chris wants you all to himself but doesn't want to lose his brother in the process and you want it all over and done with but don't want to hurt Liam. The latter of both is inevitable but you would take all the blame just so Chris didn't have to lose his brother, given the choice you would lose them both just so that didn't happen.

"Well on that note, I need to go to bed. I've gotta be up early in the morning." You avoid Chris' gaze, you're angry with him but you don't want to cause him more pain.

"Yeah me too. I better get going. Thank you for dinner Y/N, it was lovely."

You risk a short glance at him, you're eyes softening when they meet. The moment broken when Liam speaks, reminding you where you are and who you're with right at this moment in time.

"Are you for real? You're really going to drop a bombshell like that and then leave? Fuck man." Liam runs his hand through his hair, letting air out of his cheeks exasperatedly.

"Sorry bro, I'll save the excitement for another night. I've said too much already." Chris apologises with his eyes as he passes you, his hands twitching by his side's with the need to touch you.

******************

The next morning when you wake, your heart sinks knowing all the turmoil you're going to have to go through just to make it to the hotel without being spotted. All the messing about and hiding you have to do, checking in under a false name at different times. Making sure nobody follows you to the hotel and especially no one follows Chris. Getting caught checking into the same hotel would be dreadful, it wouldn't take a genius for the press to put two and two together, they wouldn't even care if it was true or not as long as they sold copies.

"Right babe, I'm ready to go." You pull your suitcase towards the door, stopping to wrap your arms around Liam.

"Have a good time, I'll see you soon." Wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and lifting your feet from the ground in a squeezy hug. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too, bye babe."

"Bye. Love you. Let me know when you get checked in." He kisses you goodbye before watching you leave.

"Will do, Love you." You say over your shoulder, climbing into your silver, Audi convertible.

This is the part you hate the most, the part that made you question whether it was all worth it. It was, of course or you wouldn't be doing it, you wouldn't put yourself through having to pretend to be somebody else and praying your not caught by anyone. It only takes one person to notice you and Chris in the same hotel and it's over. You imagine having an affair is hard work whatever your circumstances but when your boyfriend and your lover are as famous as they are it becomes impossible. It's terrifying.

You spent the car journey constantly checking your mirrors and making sure you weren't being followed. A huge sunhat and even bigger sunglasses covering your face as your heart beated faster than you thought was possible. A couple of laps around the hotel, making doubly sure you weren't being followed before you finally pulled into the carpark.

You had to constantly think, you couldn't let your guard drop for even a moment and it was exhausting. You were ready for it to be over and done with now, this just isn't fun anymore. Maybe you could run away together and start a new life somewhere else. Which one would you pick though? Who are you ready to give up? Would there even be an option to choose? Would Liam even be willing to forgive you if he knew you were sleeping with his brother? In love with his brother.

Your heart beating out of your chest, your fight or flight well and truly kicking in now as you walk up to the front desk. If there's any recognition in the receptionists eyes you're ready to turn right around and leave. The girl behind the desk, with long blonde hair has her eyes on the computer In front of her, thankfully not paying you much attention as you stand and wait for her to finish.

"Hi I'd like to book a room for two nights please." You stutter nervously, subconsciously checking over your shoulder while you spoke.

"Of course, is it just for yourself?"

"Yes please, I'm just here for a work conference. I'd like a double bed if possible though, I haven't been able to sleep in a single since I was young." You giggle nervously, embarrassed that you'd told her information she isn't even slightly interested in.

"No problem, I'll see what I have for you." Her eyes barely left her computer as she spoke, she definitely didn't recognise you. The tension in your muscles relaxed a little as your eyes scanned the lobby.

"What name is it please?" She asked, one of the moments you'd been dreading. You hate lying but luckily you'd already come up with the fake name you were using, one you'd already used many times before in the exact same situation. It never gets any easier.

"Jessica Crawley." The names tumbled from your lips, names that had absolutely no meaning to you.

"Room 101, floor 5. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No thank you, that's great." The overwhelming feeling of relief at completing step one without any problems, rushes over you. Adrenaline spiking, making your legs feel like jelly.

"You're welcome, enjoy your stay. Don't hesitate to let me know if you have any questions." The girl says, smiling sweetly at you before going back to her work.

The elevator seemed to take forever to make its way down to you, your feet shuffling as you watched the numbers above the door, counting down. The overwhelming need to get to privacy and away from the many prying eyes of the people in the lobby was severe. Most were business men and women, that were so consumed in themselves they weren't paying special attention to anyone around them. There were also young couples, making their way through the lobby, probably on their way for lunch but the people that worried you the most were the random loners sat in the armchairs scattered around the lobby. They'd chosen the perfect place to watch, some pretending to read newspapers while their eyes discreetly scanned over the top.

They were much more inquisitive, much like yourself they paid more attention to the people around them. People watchers you liked to call them, these are the sorts of people that make you nervous. They see everything, noticing any minor details, you'd spent a lifetime perfecting 'people watching' which is how you knew to be wary. You could pretty much judge a person's personality just by watching them for a couple of minutes. If anyone was to spot you it would be one of these people. You felt thankful you weren't Chris, there is absolutely no way he was going to make it to the elevator without being seen at least once.

*******************

Chris didn't feel quite as nervous as you, this was a every day occurance in his life, avoiding paparazzi was near impossible for him. As long as you weren't seen going in to the hotel then it wouldn't matter about him being seen. Still, he'd worn his baseball cap and sunglasses to at least try and hide his identity. He wasn't nervous about being seen but more about having to face you after his fuck up last night. Now that thought was way more intimidating to him.

Casually strolling into the hotel, he tried to ignore the whispers of the people around him. People questioning if it was really him, young girls barely out of high school giggling at the sight of him. Chris quietly prayed that he would make it up to the room without anyone asking for a photo, not that he usually minded but today all he wanted was to spend every possible minute with you as he could.

The receptionist tried to make a fuss when his identity was confirmed during check in. The pale skin of the same blonde girl who'd checked you in, had turned a rather bright shade of red when she heard Chris' sexy Australian accent. You wouldn't blame her, it still makes you swoon whenever you heard him speak.

"I'm fine honestly, I don't want any special treatment. Actually if I could get away with going completely unnoticed during my stay, I will speak to your boss myself and tell them how accomodating you'd been."

"Oh wow, really? Thank you so much Mr Hemsworth. I will make sure nobody bothers you and if you need anything at all just give me a call, I'll make sure you won't have to leave your room for anything." Chris smiled, pretending not to notice how she seemed to be flirting with him, badly. Tossing her hair over shoulder as she insinuated not so subtly for him to let her know if he wanted any 'special' treatment. Again, you don't blame the girl, infact you would've commended her confidence.

She handed over the keys to the penthouse, watching bright eyed as he walked to the elevator, pulling out his phone as he stepped straight in.

"Hi babe, I've booked the penthouse suite, meet me up there?" Smiling a tight lipped smile at the girl behind the desk, who was still watching him intently as the elevator doors closed.

"Ok, it isn't very inconspicuous staying in the penthouse is it?" You shouldn't be surprised, he does it everytime. You remember the first time you ever saw a penthouse and how amazed you were that it was actually bigger than your own home at the time. That was a memory you shared with Liam, all of your first times had been with Liam, the thought made your heart sink.

"I mean they knew who I was as soon as I walked in, I think it would look more suspicious if I didn't stay in a suite." Chris answered, pulling you from your thoughts.

"I suppose that's true, I'll be up soon." You could hear the sadness in your voice, something you had to snap out of before meeting Chris.

"Good because I can't wait to get my hands on you."

Sinking back onto the spongey mattress of your bed, tiredness washing over you already. The mental exhaustion of constantly having to play games and be on your guard at all times, catching up to you as you're finally alone.

Maybe that's what you need afterall, a chance to be alone to gather your thoughts, to workout your own needs and wants without spreading your attention between the two brothers.

You make a mental list of the pros and cons of both of them knowing deep down if Liam were the one for you, you'd have never have looked twice at Chris. They were so similar in a lot of ways but completely different in others.

Liam was the sweetest man you knew, so gentle and caring, attentive to your every whim and being so young when you first got together he was everything you were looking for.

Now being a woman that has gone through so much trauma in her life that had tainted your soul, darkened it with a lust for more.

Then Chris came along, he was still sweet and caring but less attentive to your needs unless it was in the bedroom. He was cheeky and funny, drop dead gorgeous and oozing manliness effortlessly. He was fire and passion. He was more.

If you let yourself admit it, you wanted excitement, which is how you ended up here in the first place. You didn't want perfect anymore, you wanted a man who could do wrong and then make up for it in the most fulfilling way he knew how. Just thinking about it made your pulse race, Chris had put you through hell last night and now it was time for payback. You imagined Chris only a couple of floors above you, worried about the way you were going to act when you saw him and lord knows how much you're going to make him sweat.

#chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth fanfic #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth x you #smut #x reader #x you #liam hemsworth

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echo-three-one · 4 years ago

Text

Whatever It Takes : RELOADED

Let's make the next chapter pink.

Table of Contents

Previous Chapter : Undying Admiration

Chapter 21 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

back at it again with the piccrew

If I Remember Correctly

Maxine Winters

Safe House 110197, Brazil

Maxine looked at Samantha and smiled. They were finally together once again, as roommates, but this time, the room was huge and they were surrounded by strong men who were willing to risk their lives to protect them.

"How are you holding up?" Maxine asked.

"Everything's a swirl of hazy incomplete memories. It feels like I'm mostly recalling them back, but the details are a bit mixed. It doesn't feel right that I recall Alex as someone from work, right?" she chuckled. She must've been going through a lot of things right now, and it looked like Alex successfully helped her recall most of her forgotten memories. Maybe all she needed was someone to influence her.

"Hey Sam, what kinds of things have I told you about my past? France already told me some of my unforgettable memories but they still seem too unclear." She asked, Samantha looked excited as she began recalling something from the unaltered part of her memory.

"Well, for starters you told me a lot about your little sister. However since your mother died, the two of you were always together solving the problems as a team until you both decided to enlist her in the army. You told it was both the happiest and saddest moment of your life." She said with a smile on her face. Maxine never felt anything but knowing that that was their situation, it made sense how France was trying hard to win her back. She was the only one she had. And it must've hurt that the only companion she ever had didn't even remember her.

"I… I didn't know that…" she faltered. Samantha quickly reached out a hand to hold hers.

"Just take your time to remember… I'm sure France understands the situation." Samantha replied, turning to the door as it slowly pushed itself open. Alex peeked from the said door and asked.

"Am I disturbing any girl talk?"

"A little. But I'll forgive you for now." Samantha grinned as Alex entered the room, dressed in comfortable sleeping wear.

"I made a deal with France to swap sleeping positions for tonight. Make sure skipping tomorrow's pancake will be worth it." he winked as he settled behind Samantha, the spooning was awkward as his metal leg was unbendable and heavy, but Maxine noticed the smile in Samantha's eyes and how it quickly forgot the uncomfort he was giving her. Maybe that's true love.

"Aw… I was about to add extra honey to your plate, Alex. What you did to Samantha was the sweetest thing ever. I guess France is up for a treat." She joked, making the girls giggle while Alex furrowed his brows.

"Well then, this night better be worth it." He proceeded to tickle Samantha and they found themselves rolling and rolling. Maxine took a minute to admire the scenery before her eyes slowly closed itself to sleep.

Ever since being brainwashed, Maxine wasn't able to dream of something, every morning she would be greeted by the same empty feeling, her thoughts would always consist of recent events.

This night was different. She vividly recalled a rainy afternoon. She and Francine stood by their mother's grave.

"I'm going to the army next week, Mom. It might take a while since I'll be seeing you again." Francine knelt and placed a small floral pot they arranged.

"Yeah Mom, your daughter finally used her toughness somewhere other than fighting me!" She remembered herself joking and nudging her sister. These were things that they did on a weekly basis, visit their mother’s grave and talk about their week.

“And since she’s out training for the rest of her life, I decided to move to California, maybe look for restaurants to work on maybe look for someone special.” Maxine mused. She could hear France giggle.

“I, on the other hand, won’t let myself fall for any of those tough army men.” France added.

“Are you sure about that? It’s like… turning down a million dollar offer.” Maxine teased.

“It really depends on the person. But while I’m in training, I’ll focus on improving.” She amended.

Then the memory faded, it felt like tv static started to consume her whole dream until she found herself awake, gasping for air.

“You okay?” Alex groggily asked her, cuddling Samantha who was sound asleep. She nodded and got up, she felt very thirsty.

Maxine hurriedly walked down the stairs quietly passing the empty command center. Oddly enough, the kitchen light was open and she could hear soft clanking of cutlery. She took a peek at Gary Sandersom, who’s sticking his tongue out and too busy making finishing touches on a cake of sorts. She knew they didn't have the right mould for basic pastries but seeing him actually holding a cake, surprised her.

“So this is the reason I wake up to missing ingredients.” She spoke firmly and crossed her arms, walking closely to Roach who scrambled and immediately hid the cake behind him.

“I’m just trying out new stuff. Baking looked fun.” He lied, stepping further back until his butt hit the sink.

“I already saw what you’re working on Gary. How did you form the shape? We didn’t have any mold.”

“When there’s a will, there’s a way.” He smiled proudly and showed her his cake. It was cylindrical, almost like that of a

“Mugs.” he explained as Maxine crept closer to his work, her eyes probed around it like a judge from masterchef.

“Wow. This looks nice. Is this for you?” she asked, feeling Gary’s body shake differently.

“Actually, it’s for you… France told me about your birthday and since I already missed it. I wanted to share one with you. You know… for uh… formality.” he stuttered. It was obvious that Gary was nervous. She felt this ever since they started cooking together, and she noticed that he was improving around her.

“Aww… thanks. No one’s ever baked a cake for me. Samantha just buys them.” Maxine chuckled and sat on the chair as Gary pulled out a candle and lit it.

“I’m supposed to give you one before we leave tomorrow. I guess you got too excited.” he laughed nervously and gently placed his hand on her shoulder. Maxine gently reached for the hand and grazed it softly, smiling at Gary’s excited face.

“Make a wish.” Gary whispered, his minty breath tickled her nose. Maxine closed her eyes as the warm flame heated her cheeks. She would have wished for something personal, but instead she wished for something she thought needed to happen first.

“I wish… that this war will be over.” she opened her eyes and blew her candle as Roach silently clapped and cheered.

“Belated Happy Birthday Maxine.” He greeted with a warm hug, Maxine slowly gave in to his embrace and faced him. Tension sparked in the air between them as the chemicals moving between them started to react to each other, drawing their lips closer to each other. It was almost automatic, none of them held back as their lips clashed into a soft yet intense kiss. Their tongues were too shy to act but the lips were eager to meet again, soft smooches filled the quiet kitchen as their hands started to climb up to their faces.

“I.. um..” Gary shyly held back, his hands parted from her cheeks as they both stepped back from each other.

“It’s okay…" She whispered quickly, turning back to get herself a glass of water to calm herself from her nightmare and to cool off the heat of her body.

"I take it you're going back to bed?" Gary asked, leaning his arms across the table, looking at the cake.

"I think I can't sleep after that dream." She muttered. The reply signaled Roach to grab a fork and sit beside her.

"Dream? You're having dreams now?" Roach asked curiously, taking a slice off the cake and pointing the fork to her mouth.

"Yeah." Maxine continued with a vivid description of her dream, Roach momentarily spoon feeding her with cake every after thought.

Maxine actually stayed all morning talking to Roach, they discussed mostly about her dream and Roach was there to listen. He was what Maxine needed at the moment, a great listener who happened to be someone she's starting to fall for. She could also feel him growing close to her, that wasn't just any birthday kiss… I felt something else.

Maxine was almost jealous of Roach's colorful life. He shared so much of him that she actually felt guilty that she was only able to share one. He had lots of stories involving encounters with animals and most of it was about his dog.

"If you were to choose… Which animal would you prefer as a pet?" Gary asked curiously. The question made Maxine stop and think, admiring the slowly rising sun as she goes.

"Parrots sound fun. They talk back."

"Only if you teach them to…" Gary responded. He always does that, he's adding comments to her replies until they both agreed on a thing.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Maxine finally asked.

"Do what?"

"You know, influencing me to agree on your opinion?"

"I just want you to think I actually have something to say… Plus it keeps the conversation going… because I never really wanted it to stop." He smiled.

"Oi, Roach. Why is there no hot water yet?" Price yelled.

"Hang on Captain! The kettle isn't whistling yet!" Roach replied running to the kitchen leaving an amazed Maxine behind. A few minutes later Francine approached her.

No words were spoken as Maxine immediately wrapped her sister around her arms, she was really all she had and she was guilty that she couldn't remember her when they first met.

"I'm glad you found me… even amidst this mess." Maxine whispered to France's ears. She could feel her tears falling on her as they enjoyed the tender moment of their reunion.

"I remembered only one memory. Of us before we separated and lived independently. I think it's all I needed to truly tell who I am." Maxine said as Francine sobbed.

"I love you sis." France hugged again as they both cried.

Next Chapter : Going Dark Part 1

Notification Squad my Beloved

@smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio @whimsywispsblog @beemybee @ricinbach

#horrayfic #john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost riley #alex echo 3 1 #gary roach sanderson

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ambivalent-anarchy · 5 years ago

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Party Games

Gender: Female

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: Underaged drinking (but c'mon guys, they're like, highschoolers sooo)

Summary- [Y/N] plans a small get- together and forgets to tell Peter, but when he comes over to do homework and then stays for the party, she finds out just how fun Peter Parker can really be. Also Peter drinks for the first time haha

Bonus: Funny drunk Peter

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"Okay!," you said to yourself, rubbing your hands together while looking around your room. "We got chips, dip, LED lights, playing cards, uno, cards against humanity, music and..."

You looked around the room again, letting your arms fall to your sides. "Crap, what else?..."

You were throwing a party.

Well, actually just a small get-together.

...but everyone knows that basically means a party.

And this small get-together/party needed to be PERFECT.

"Alright... chips, dip, music, playing cards, LED lights, uno, cards against humanity, and..." you trailed off again. Why did it seem so empty? What were you missing?

"Drinks..," you quietly said to yourself, a small smile playing on your lips. "No party is complete without alcohol."

This par-..uh, small get-together was going to be a blast!

You quickly turned your head to the clock when you heard a knock at your door. It was only four o'clock. The party started at five. What frickin' grandma-time-moving person was at your door a whole hour early?

You opened while simultaneously rolling your eyes. "You're, like, an hour early.."

"No I'm not," a voice responded.

You looked up to see Peter Parker there in front of you. His eyebrows were scrunched up as he titled his head. He carried a small backpack.

"I always come around this time," he said, checking his watch. "D-do you need me to come back later o-or-?"

Realizing what he was talking about, you slapped your forehead. "Oh yeah! The homework!"

"I-I mean it's totally cool if you already did it!," he rushed. "Like, really cool! Cuz y'know, progress is, GREAT, y'know! And, um, you're really smart and stuff. Ha, I'll just go home and do mine and-"

He was so cute when he rambled, something he did the second anything went the smallest bit wrong.

"Pete, chill," you giggled. "I haven't done my homework yet."

"S-sorry," he stuttered. "So, do you still wanna go do that now or-?"

"Sure," you said. "But you gotta say you'll help me out, first."

"Yeah of course!," he smirked before tilting his head again. "Wait, with what?"

You laughed. "Just come in," you said, taking his arm and pulling him into the house.

After a bit of homework (mainly Peter breezing through it all while you copy his work), you and Peter picked up where you left off, setting up for the party.

"I didn't know you knew how to pick locks," Peter chuckled in awe as you used a hair pin to get into your parents liquor cabinet.

You giggled softly, rolling your eyes. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Pete. Hey, you like Hennessy?"

The clueless boy stared back at you. "Uh, I wouldn't-"

"You ever been drunk before, Peter?," you asked, a small smile playing on your face.

"U-um. No," Peter responded, a little embarrassed. Given all the opportunities he had to, even with his Aunt May actually handing him some alcohol to try, Peter Parker had never tasted a drink. Not even beer or wine.

"Too cute," you snickered, shaking your head, unknowingly causing Peter to blush a bit. "Grab a few bottles, will you?"

"So is all of this," Peter said once you were back in your room. "For something special like a sleepover or something?"

You turned your head around the face him. "Wait, didn't I invite you?"

Peter shook his head quickly. "No." He wouldn't admit it, but when he walked in to see that you'd been setting up for some sort of event, he couldn't help but feel a little left out.

"Oh. Well you're invited," you said simply. "It's just a small get-together with friends from school."

"O-okay." He smiled. "I just gotta call May," he said. When you nodded, he turned away and pulled out his phone.

Immediately, he dialed Happy's number.

"Hello?"

"Hey Happy," he greeted. "Can I ask for a quick favor?"

"Depends on what it is, kid," Happy replied.

"I need someone to cover for me tonight."

"What?"

"On patrol," Peter clarified. "I need someone to cover for me. Just for tonight. I have something to go to-"

"Who is she?," Happy asked, failing to hide the amusement in his voice.

Peter looked back at you sitting on your bed. You were so cute. "W-what?"

"You never skip patrol for anybody, Peter," Happy said. "The only thing I can think of is you've picked up Tony's old habits of dropping duties for special girls."

Hearing that, Peter quickly looked away from you, as if Happy was somewhere hidden and he didn't want to be caught proving his words to be true. "What?! No, it's nothing like that! I just-"

"I'm just kidding buddy. Go on, I got you covered. Go kiss your girl."

"We're not gonna kiss!," Peter whisper-shouted.

"Hey, stay hopeful, kid. You got this!"

"Happy, we're not gonna-" CLICK. "Happy! Ugh.."

Hearing only a muffled fraction of the commotion, you squinted your eyes. "Everything okay over there, Peter?"

"Uh, yeah!" He said, turning around and putting his phone back into his pocket.

Ding-dong!

Both you and Peter looked up to the sound, and then to each other.

"It's starting!," you smiled, excitedly wriggling. "Alright!" You clapped your hands together then walked up to Peter. "We did everything, right?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

You gave a nervous smile. "This is gonna be awesome, right?"

Peter nodded again, giving your arms a reassuring shake. "This is gonna be awesome, [Y/N]. Now c'mon, we don't wanna leave them at the door."

MJ was the first to show.

"Hey MJ!," you yelled, pulling her in for a tight hug.

"[Y/N]," she blandly said, though with a small, lopsided smile. She looked to the side, a smile still on her face. "Peter."

"Hi," he smiled softly, his hands awkwardly in his pocket.

Ned was next.

"Hey [Y/N]. This thing's gonna be awesome!," he said walking in. "Pete!!!," he then said, practically slamming into Peter to give him a big brotherly hug.

Then Betty.

"Hey guys!"

Then Cindy.

"What's up?!"

Then Brad.

"Yo!"

Then there was Flash.

"Hey Flash!," you greeted, pulling him in for a hug, and even giving him a friendly high-five.

You were the only one that tolerated, or dare anyone even say, liked him(not in the interesting way of course). Sure he was annoying, but you didn't get the big problem everyone, especially Peter, had with Flash.

"Yo, PENIS PARKER!!"

...Or maybe you kinda did. It was just funny to watch Peter squirm.

He nearly tackled him to the ground and doing his arm around his neck. "Hey, your balls dropped yet? Haha!"

Peter gave you a quick 'why would you do this to me?!' glare before lowly muttering, "Hey Flash..."

Spin The Bottle~

"C'mon c'mon, lemme spin it!," Flash yelled. "I'm feelin' lucky!"

"Lucky?," Betty asked. "Who're you trying to get?"

"More like which one of you lucky ladies will get me?!"

"Get over yourself, dude," MJ scolded.

"Hey Pete! Why're you all the way over there?," you asked Peter, who was sitting on your bed watching the game from afar.

"I-I'm fine not kissing anyone..."

"PRUDE!," Flash yelled, pointing to the blushing boy in the corner.

Never Have I Ever~

"Okay," you started, looking around the circle. "Never have I ever...Oh! Here's a good one. Spoken to Spiderman."

Peter, MJ, Ned, and Flash put their fingers down.

"Oh wow, guys! Not fair! When'd you all get to talk to him?!," you playfully whined.

"Said hey to me on the street once," MJ said with a shrug.

"Saved us in Europe," Peter added.

"Gave me a high-five while he was swinging," Ned noted with a smile.

"Told me to watch out when something was gonna fall on me," Flash said, eyes sparkling as if he could actually see his hero in front of him.

"I mean, they don't call him the friendly neighborhood Spiderman for nothing, right?"

Paranoia~

"Alright guys," you said, running your hands together. "For the chaotic energy of this game to work, get by the person you think is the most annoying." When everyone just sat and stared at you, you rolled your eyes and clarified. "C'mon guys, I already know who just merely tolerates who, don't make me have to tell you where to sit."

Slowly and awkwardly, everyone sat next to someone they didn't prefer.

MJ sat next to Betty who sat next to Brad who sat next to Ned who sat next to Cindy who sat next to Flash who sat next to Peter.

"Oh, really?," Betty snickered next to MJ. "I'm definitely learning some things."

MJ rolled her eyes with a chuckle. "I don't hate you, Betty. I just like everyone else more."

Flash looked to the people on the side of him. Cindy and Peter. "...yeah I'm not surprised."

"I love you all the same," you giggled. "So I'm just gonna sit anywhere," you said as you sat next to Peter.

"So the way this one works is the person to the right of you is gonna whisper a question to you and you have to answer it out loud to everyone else in the circle. And here comes the fun part next..." you looked to Peter, your most easily embarrassed friend, to watch his reaction. "You get to decide whether or not you want to tell everybody what the question was. And if you don't, you take a shot."

Peter's eyes widened. "O-of what?"

Brad laughed. "What else, Peter? Alcohol."

"You guys cool with that?," you said, looking around the circle.

"Heck yeah!"

"Totally."

"Cool."

"Sure! Sounds fun!"

"Mhmm."

"Yep!"

"T-that's fine!"

"Oooookay," you said. "Um, Pete! You can go first."

You were on his left.

The circle watched as he leaned into your ear. Immediately you laughed. Once you stopped you answered. "It's been good."

"What was the question?" MJ raised her eyebrow.

"He asked me how my day was."

Flash laughed. Ned shook his head. MJ rolled her eyes. "That was the lamest-"

"I-I was put on the spot, okay?!," Peter defended.

"Well, you've got a whole round to come up with another one," you laughed. "An interesting one."

Peter nodded, racking his mind with more questions to ask you.

It couldn't be anything embarrassing like, "whose your crush?" (Though he secretly wished it would be him)

It needed to be cool. It needed to be sensible. But fun.

"Peter."

Peter's eyes flicked up upon hearing his name being said by MJ.

She was staring at him. "What was the question?," he asked.

You and MJ looked to each other, smiling after coming to a silent agreement of mischief.

"Nah, I think I'm gonna let you suffer," MJ told Peter.

Peter stared, his mouth agape. "Then drink up," you giggled while MJ took her shot.

"W-wait wait wait, no, you can't do that," Peter objected.

"Actually she can, Pete." You smiled a wide shit-eating grin, obviously enjoying Peter's torment. "And now you'll never know what I asked to provoke her to say your name."

"But-"

Cindy laughed. "Feeling paranoid, Peter?"

"Yeah, y'know just a little bit!" Peter's voice cracked as he felt a blush creep onto his cheeks.

Okay, well now he had to get back at you.

He stared at you intently, as the game continued. You were cute as an angel, but as mischievous as Loki himself sometimes, and usually to his expense.

But what could he say? He liked you.

He really liked you.

Before he knew it, it was Flash's turn.

He must've been really out of it if the whole circle had already gone through one round.

"Alright I got a good one, Parker."

"Great..."

Flash leaned in and whispered, "Do you wanna bang [Y/N]?"

Peter yanked his neck back immediately. "Whoa! Uh-um..n-no! Of course not! I so don't!"

"Calm down, dude!" Ned laughed.

"What type of question made you get like that?," Brad asked, almost killing himself with laughter.

"Then again, it doesn't take much for him to get like this," MJ pointed out. "Anyway, what was it, Peter?"

Peter looked to everyone in the circle. No way were they gonna hear what Flash asked him. He looked down at the shot glass in front of him. Everyone laughed and 'ooooh'ed as he quickly threw it back, coughing and hacking immediately after.

"Awwww! Baby boy Peter finally tasted his first drink!," you teased, poking out your bottom lip and wiping a fake tear. "They grow up so fast!"

"Okay, your turn, Peter," Brad said.

'Crap.'

He'd thought so much about the fact that he needed to ask you a crazy question to the point that he'd never actually thought of what the crazy question was going to be!

"Well, c'mon hurry up," you urged.

"Better not be lame," MJ warned.

Taking a quick breath, Peter whispered the first thing that came to mind.

"...Are you a virgin?"

Finally, it was your time to stammer. "U-uh, y-yeah.."

Immediately embarrassed, Peter slapped his forehead. "Dude, I-I'm sorry, [Y/N]. Please don't say the question."

Ned smirked. "Now I really wanna know what it is."

"I'm just gonna...," you trailed off before downing the shot, blushing profusely.

The night rolled on and the questions got weirder. As expected.

But one thing surprised you.

Whatever Flash had been asking Peter the last couple of rounds must've been really crazy stuff because your bashful friend was downing shot after shot. Of everyone in the circle now, he was in the worst shape.

Face beet red. Constantly going into laughing fits. Almost totally abandoning his sense of embarrassment. Shamelessly burping (with Ned more than ready to congratulate him for a "good one" each time). And no sense of personal space. When he asked you a question, he was practically kissing your ear.

The best part was that his questions started to get weirder and weirder.

"You and someone else in this circle have to be surgically bound to someone for the rest of your life. Who?"

"Who's most likely to commit manslaughter?"

"If Darth Sidious walked in here right now and ordered for you to kill someone, who would you kill?"

Most of his questions you told the rest of the circle, because they were just that hilarious.

The game was over now. Betty and Cindy went home. Ned was sleeping on the floor. Brad and Flash were quietly drunkenly chatting. MJ drew pictures of the boys drunk out of their minds.

"I didn't realize Peter was such a weird drunk," MJ laughed as Peter began to loudly hum Star Wars melodies.

Flash let out a big burp, laying on the floor. "I think drunk Parker is better than regular Parker!"

"Totally," Brad agreed.

Peter was laying on your bed, mumbling towards the ceiling.

You, also a bit drunk, walked over to him. "Hey Pete, you okay?"

He didn't turn his head but moved his eyes to look at you. "Wow. I'm drunk." He moved over, leaving room for you on the bed. "And my head really hurts."

You hit his stomach. "Well, yeah dummy! That's what happens when you take so many shots!" You rolled your eyes, laying down so that you were laying down beside him, both of you staring up at the ceiling. "Why did you do so many anyway? What type of stuff was Flash asking?"

"Don't worry about it," he mumbled rather quickly. "I'm so tired right now. This bed is so comfortable. Can I sleep with you, [Y/N]?"

You paused. Of course he didn't mean it like that but still, Peter was asking to sleep with you. And he was too drunk to be embarrassed about it.

OF COURSE he could.

"Yeah, sure," you said, like it was no big deal even though this was literally the guy you crushed on for the longest time. "No problem."

Later, MJ, Ned, and the other boys left.

It was just you and Peter now.

He had been done ranting about Star Wars hours ago and was now just staring at the wall. He finally broke the silence as he said, "I don't think I like alcohol very much..."

"You say that," you said. "But I can almost guarantee that you'll be getting drunk again someday." You blew out a tired breath. "And I'll be there to watch you act a straight up fool when you do," you chuckled.

It was fun to see this side of Peter. This carefree, nothing to lose side. You knew that you wouldn't see it often. It's not like you could keep him drunk 24/7.

"Can I hug you?"

You turned around to see Peter staring at you with big puppy-dog eyes. "W-what?"

"Hug- can I hug you?," he asked. "Please?"

"Uh, sure," you replied.

Slowly and clumsily, Peter wrapped his arms around you. "You're so soft and squishy," he giggled with a short hiccup at the end, making it fifteen times cuter.

Of course he'd freak out the second he'd wake up to find himself practically spooning you. And you'd deal with his stuttering and stammering later. But for now, you could definitely enjoy a drunk Peter snoring into your ear.

"G'night, Pete," you whispered, laughing quietly as he mumbled his own goodnight into your ear...

#spiderman mcu #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman fic #spiderman #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel fandom

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oikaw-ugh · 4 years ago

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hi leia, i saw your post abt a matchup and here i am to request for one (if it's open tho!!) HAHAHAHA you probably know me so well already because we chat almost everyday jdksjsk but i'll add some general things lang: im shy and awkward at first but when i warm up to you, i bring out my chaotic side (wow remember those 20 qs we did? HAHAHA iconic) default mode: a chill homebody, but if you successfully drag me to a fun place (like amusement parks) i'll be grateful to u forever :> +

HALLO, DILAAAAG ✨ I HAD FUN DOING THISSSS MY BRAIN WENT *snap*

I match you up with...

Me✨

CHOS! My other choices were Lev and Goshiki but I match you up with...

Tanaka Ryūnosuke (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。

Mainly because Tanaka screams Pinoy vibes to me.

But also because he's so spontaneous and I feel like you love spontaneous people! (Kasi when you react to my replies minsan napakabongga HAHAHAHA)

Also, kasi I know you're shy (if 'di mo pa close) + he's shy when it comes to girls, too! THE DYNAMICS SPEAKS-

Let's throwback during your college freshman year.

You're a transfer student who just seemed so lost in the sea of people.

Plus the fact that you're not from Japan (assume lang tayo Dilag wala namang bayad mangarap HAHAHAHAH) just screams: a n x i e t y ✨

Well, you weren't the only one who's anxious though...

"E-Excuse me?"

You look to your right only to see a semi bald guy with a constipated face. His ears are so red + his lips look funny.

You who is anxious as well: "Ha?"

He shows you his card and like asks you if you knew where these classrooms are.

And you literally cried because you're classmates with almost (almost) all of his general subjects!

Tanaka brightens with this and like, suddenly his awkwardness is gone!

"Do you want to go to our first class together?"

Rumor has it that Tanaka knew where his classes were. He just wanted to talk to you :>

This approach has been mastered, honed, and consecutively developed for three years alongside with his humble partner, Nishinoya

Since you're classmates at general subs, it's given that you seat with each other.

I think your friendship started the moment Tanaka approached you on the opening ceremony.

But it developed when classes started. Tanaka started sharing that he was a volleyball player during high school and like, he was the best and he was the greatest and sorts.

You're just there nodding at him, completely in awe bc WOW an athlete. You're friends w an athlete.

He learns that you're not a Japanese, too! And when he immediately knew you're a Filipino, the first thing he blurts out is:

"TANGINA"

THIS GOT YOU WHEEZING. Because of that, you jokingly slapped his arms, "Huy, Tanaka!" While laughing

He apparently knows a couple of phrases because he plays online games like DOTA and stuff.

By phrases = we mean curses

But this isn't one-sided! You told him you knew Japanese (let's say you're not fluent yet) and you learned from the best: anime

Tanaka: Really? Try telling me a phrase then.

You: ちんこぱだいすき.

Kidding. That's on me. I'd definitely say that. Also, I'm not sure with the hiragana characters, forgive me.

ANYWAYS, TANAKA GOES RED BECAUSE OF THIS AND LIKE, HE LOOKS AWAY AND LIKE "W-What are you saying?!" And stuff.

Then you laugh because he becomes a mess.

I think the confessing part is the hardest.

Because Tanaka is just a huge m e s s when it comes to girls! While you're too scared to confess because what if he doesn't like you back?

Both of you are like, trying to balance whether it was worth the risk or nah

Karasuno squad is just like, groaning everytime Tanaka called them for advice.

Like, Suga: Jesus Christ, Tanaka. Just confess already.

Tanaka is like: But what if it doesn't work out? What if she only sees me as a friend? What if-

Tsukki: What if someone else takes her away?

Tanaka:

Tanaka: *angry mom noises*

I feel like imagining you dating was his strongest drive to confess!

He wants to confess in classical way, though. You know, he gives a message asking you to go to the sakura tree at the left side of the campus at 5 o'clock.

Only that that won't work since you're both college students and you have the messiest schedules.

You on the phone (while on your way to a class): Look, Tanaka I thought I'm free at 5. Turns out I'm not. What is it that you want to tell me?

Tanaka on the phone: it's... it's just that I want to say I like you.

You: 👁️/////👄/////👁️

Dates: ARE COOL

He loves how you're just good to go to places he mentions you.

Tanaka: I found this coffee shop where we can play with snakes.

Karasuno team would normally think he's being creepy but you were like:

"OMG I WANNA SEE THAT"

But kids, please don't play w/ snakes-

Favorite activity would be CHIKA TIME! Tanaka learned this phrase from you.

And like, you two would sit somewhere, cafeteria, library, etc. and would just start dissing other people.

Tanaka: I bet you those two are about to break up.

You: Yeah. Just look at their faces.

You love taking pictures, asking for his hoodie, clinging arms with each other while walking and stuff.

He also loves to place his arm on your shoulders? Like as if you're bros?

Domestic dates, too! Especially that you're far away from your fam, Tanaka invites you to his house most of the time.

*whisper* Something...steamy happens?

N o because Tanaka drinks his respect woman juice and he thinks too highly of you for him to do that!

Respect juice contents btw: he supports you, the things you want, the clothes you wear, and he treats you like an equal! (Not some sort of material he possesses wedontdosexismhere)

Kisses can happen thoughhh but rarely because you two would go crazy with the uwu after.

You're so frequent at his place to the point that Saeko loves you and literally bonds with you more than Tanaka when you're at their place.

If it's the other way around, Tanaka is sooooo stiff when he visits your place.

He's never been to a girl's house before!

You: Tanaka, make yourself feel at home.

Tanaka: ᶜᵃⁿ ᶦ ˢᶦᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵘᵍˀ

Fights happen too.

I feel like Tanaka is a jealous type.

The first time Tanaka got jealous, you found it cute.

But when it happened over and over again, that got you mad.

It might start with jealousy but it ends up turning serious like:

"Do you not believe in me?"

"I can't believe you said that."

"You think I'd do that to you?"

"Is that what you think of me?"

And like the other party would be speechless but you guys would be too heated and too prideful to apologize on the spot.

The reason why the following days would just be a season of you both ignoring each other.

But don't get me wrong. You still do things together. Like eating lunches together, sitting at one another, going home together but just no talking.

Like no talking at all!

I feel like Tanaka is the first one who gives in. He hates it when he couldn't talk to you. At first, he calls his friends and their words make him realize that:

"Ah, shit. I fucked up." -Tanaka at 3 AM.

You both fix things up eventually. Like, before you knew it, one of you would just casually approach the other as if you haven't ignored each other for a week.

HSJSJSJSJ I hope you like it dilaggg! And tell me if I'm accur8 or naaaaah HAHAHAHAHHA

#match ups #leia answers <333 #haikyuu matchups #dilag✨✨✨#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu tanaka #tanaka ryuunosuke #tanaka x dilag #Tanaka x justine

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elusive---ivory · 5 years ago

Text

Circus Act - 2

Woop woop, part 2. I've been extremely exhausted but here we are.

Part 1

Part 2

Ps: Shout out to my girl, @gloomyladyy for drawing Sandy for me. She looks stunning 💕💕

Soon, it was Monday. Arthur had spent most of the weekend, hanging out with his mother, and writing subtle notes in his journal.

As Arthur got to work, he was greeted with those kind eyes he met last Thursday.

Sandy was setting up her locker, which just so happened to be right next to Arthur's.

"Hey Art, how are you?" Sandy greeted Arthur with a smile. She seemed to have lots of makeup on, and judging by her right eyelid, it was to hide something.

Arthur smiled back, opening his locker. "Good morning, Sandy."

"Morning, Artie. Ms. Cheekbones." Randall walked into the room, making an annoying appearance.

Sandy ignored Randall, pushing past him before walking into a changing room of some sort.

Randall scoffed. "What's her deal?"

Arthur shrugged.

Randall walked over to Arthur, opening up his locker.

"I heard about the other day. Kids are fucking savages." Randall commented.

Arthur sighed, fidgeting with his shoes. "They were just kids. Just leave it be."

"That kind of thinking, they'll just walk all over ya." Randall handed Arthur a brown paper bag.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, opening the bag.

Inside the bag was a gun and about 19 bullets.

Arthur scoffed, thinking it was some sort of prank. When he looked up at Randall, he could see that he was serious.

"Randall, I'm not supposed to have a gun." Arthur hushed, gritting his teeth.

"Relax, Art. You can pay me back. You're my boy. Besides chicks love guns." Randall walked away, pointing at the changing room.

Arthur hid the gun in his bag, and went back to lacing his enormous clown shoes, and promptly placing the shoes directly on his feet. Afterward, Arthur sat at the vanity, painting his face, putting on the mask of his clown persona, Carnival.

Sandy walked out of the changing room, decked in clown gear. Her dress seemed to consist of a red, white, and black color scheme, topped with a silly little hat on her black hair. The makeup she had on seemed to go with her own scheme.

Arthur's jaw laid slightly adjacent as he locked eyes on Sandy's outfit. He was barely finished with his makeup, and she was already dressed.

Sandy walked over to the vanity. "I love your makeup, Arthur. The shades of blue really contrasts with the red."

Arthur blinked for a second. "Thank you. I like your makeup, too."

Those emerald eyes hit her again. Despite feeling anxious from being around all sorts if guys, Sandy felt some comfort around Arthur. He was charming and during. Almost like Dennis, when she first met him. She smile faded.

Sandy cleared her throat. "Anyway, Hoyt wanted to tell you that you should come with me to that old folks home. He says that you could show me the ropes."

Arthur nodded. "Yeah. I could do that."

The old folks home was just down a few blocks from the studio.

"Good afternoon, elders. We have some exciting company today. Meet Ms. Cello, and Carnival." The director of the home introduced Sandy and Arthur, as they got into place.

Sandy got into center. She walked over to what looked to be a very old looking gramophone, and placed a record. The record played Somewhere Over The Rainbow from the Wizard of Oz. The old people in the lounge room seemed to smile as Sandy began to dance around them. She did magic tricks, and pulled a handkerchief out of her tiny hat.

Arthur stood in the back, amazed. Sandy was fantastic, wowing the crowd with her tricks. Arthur couldn't compete with that. When it was his turn, Arthur froze up.

He felt a repressed laugh crawled up in the back of his throat. Suddenly, the laughter erupted from Arthur.

The elderly didn't seem amused. Some of the elders were confused or concerned about the man laughing in front of them.

Sandy was also concerned. She had never heard this kind of laughter come from Arthur before. Sandy grabbed Arthur to the side.

Arthur was hunched over, trying to repress his laughter with his hand.

"Arthur? Are you ok?" Sandy asked, placing a hand on his head.

Arthur looked away from her. He was already embarrassed enough.

"Arthur, it's ok. What's wrong?" Sandy tried comforting Arthur, but the home director had kicked them out.

Afterwards, Arthur's laughter subsided and seemed to be more calm. The walk back to Haha's was quiet.

"I have a condition." Arthur broke the silence after a while.

Sandy looked over at him. "Oh, what kind of condition?"

"It's called the pseudobulbar affect. I was diagnosed with it when I was young." Arthur sighed, looking at the ground.

"That's some heavy stuff, Arthur." Sandy walked back over to Arthur.

"You probably don't want to be around me anymore." Arthur's thick eyebrows furrowed. He looked up at Sandy like a hurt puppy.

"Are you joking? Of course, I want to be around you. You're the only guy I can actually talk to." Sandy smiled.

Arthur's face lit up. He seemed surprised at her answer. Arthur was so used to rejection, and Sandy didn't seem to mind him at all. It was such a relief to meet someone kind and considerate.

"Hey, how about, after work, I treat you to a drink or something?" Sandy asked.

Arthur nodded. "Yeah, that would be great."

His usual coworkers never invited him to anything. He was always casted out of their social group. Even with people like Randall and Gary, he felt invisible. It wasn't until Sandy came that someone actually saw him.

Sandy smiled, grabbing onto his arm. "Well, then come on, silly."

An old joint called Martha's was a place where Sandy's cousin, Deliah, worked. Sandy would go every Monday to get discounted drinks from her cousin.

"Sandy!" Dee exclaimed, giving her a tight hug. "Ooh, and who's this?"

Sandy laughed at Dee's suggestive comment. It was nice seeing her out of rehab. Dee had a long history with ketamine. Sandy was proud to see her every Monday working to better herself.

"This is Arthur. My coworker. Arthur, this is my cousin, Dee." Sandy said.

Arthur hesitantly shook Dee's hand.

Arthur looked around at all the people in the bar. Everyone in the bar made him incredibly nervous. He clinged onto Sandy's arm as they walked over towards a booth.

"So, how long have you been working for Hoyt?" Sandy asked, sitting next to Arthur on the velvet booth.

Arthur thought for a second. "A few months. My social worker recommended me the job."

"That's good. You know, my boyfriend tried to convince me not to get the job. He said 'think about how it'd look on him.'" Sandy sneered.

Arthur raised his eyebrow. "Boyfriend? You've never mentioned him before."

"There's a reason for that. He's a dick." Sandy rolled her eyes thinking about Dennis.

Arthur looked down at his drink, barely even taking a sip.

Sandy opened up a pack of cigarettes, and placed one to her lips.

Arthur studied the cigarette pressed against her lips. How she inhaled the smoke, and then letting it out in the air. Sandy seemed peaceful and content. Arthur noticed in the strobe lights of the bar that Sandy had a nasty bruise on her face. From her cheek, all the way up to her eyelid.

Sandy felt Arthur staring at her.

"What happened to your face?" Arthur asked.

Sandy gulped. "I ran into a door." She lied.

Arthur glared. He didn't like liars. Just before Arthur said anything else. Dee walked up to the booth with Dennis.

"Sandy, I'm so sorry. I tried to stop him. I told him that you weren't here." Dee apologized, profusely.

"It's fine, Dee." Sandy distinguished her cigarette, throwing it on the ground. "I have to go, Arthur. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

Arthur could tell that she didn't want to leave. Dennis walked up to the booth, grabbing Sandy's arm.

"Go wait in the car, kitten." Dennis growled.

Sandy nodded, turning her head away from Arthur.

"Listen here, buddy. If I ever see you hanging around my girlfriend, again. I'll fucking kill you." Dennis grabbed Arthur by the shirt and threw him on the table. "Understand?"

Arthur nodded. As Dennis walked off, Arthur had the urge to grab the gun from out of his bag.

'She deserves better.' Arthur thought. 'Who does he think he is?'

Taglist: @gloomyladyy @memory-mortis @jokerflecker @joker-flecked-me @princessgeekface

(If you'd like to be tagged, message me/send an ask!! I'm always happy to add people)

The Woman In Velvet Series

#joker arthur fleck #joker movie #joker film #joker x reader #joker 2019 #arthur fleck #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x oc #oc: sandra dolere

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honeybeesintheimpala · 5 years ago

Text

Title: An Angel's Lullaby

Pairing: DeanCas, Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Words: 93,662

Status: Complete

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7984306/chapters/18268822

Chapter One - The Man with the Ocean Eyes

"Excuse me," a gravelly voice suddenly fills the room and Dean's pen nearly goes flying, heart pumping. It's been at least two days since anyone's even walked through those doors and being alone with his thoughts isn't exactly a new thing but for that long, it gets to be a surprise when someone says something. He keeps it under control though, doesn't look up except a quick glance at a nice pair of khakis and a deep purple jumper.

He goes back to scribbling on the piece of paper where he's supposed to be filling out a request for another truck to come and take away a few boxes of older books, bring them to a charity or a foster house somewhere.

"What can I help you with," he says, surprised that his own voice is bored considering his heart is pounding out a Jamaican beat and he's pretty sure he almost pissed his pants.

"I was just wondering if there are any books that you might recommend? I'm in the mood for reading, but not really sure what to look for," the man speaks at a low volume, as if there's anyone here to be disturbed.

Dean's intrigue is piqued though, so he pauses his doodles, knits his eyebrows together and looks up.

His eyes trace up the outline of his jumper, which wraps nicely around a narrow waist and a great chest, then leads into a white collared shirt, tan neck, a scruffy jaw that can't decide between chiseled and soft, some full lips that look like they might be chapped bit also look incredibly kissable, a straight-edge nose, and finally, two unfathomable blue eyes, shining bright as the Caribbean ocean that Dean is entirely too sure they are made of. His hair is a messy looking, bed-head-esque mop of dark chocolate brown and he smiles down at Dean as if he isn't the most attractive person Dean's ever encountered.

He's actually blown away by the fact that this man is inside a nearly failing library right now instead of out modeling a white pinstripe suit and blue tie from Men's Warehouse somewhere.

This time, Dean thinks he may actually piss his pants, but he refrains from any sort of urination onto cloth, as a mind-blowingly handsome man with some captivating blue eyes that seem to have stolen the sea is standing in front of his desk, asking about books.

He also refrains from exhibiting all of these passing thoughts on his face, because it feels like it's been a few minutes since he asked the question and the guy's probably starting to think Dean's some weirdo who can't speak under pressure.

"Library's a dying business, sir," he sits back in his chair and sets the pen down slowly. "Yeah, all the kids got their...electronic readers and...there are bookstores that sell books. Never out of stock of a specific book. Sometimes we get that; not having a specific book because all the copies got checked out...or we used to have that..."

The man stares down at him with such focus and intent, nodding along and knitting his brows together. Who is this guy?

"Nah, I mean, it's amazing that...someone wants a book so badly and loves it so much that they gotta buy it and have it forever," Dean continues, then leans forward again, grabbing a book to his left and wiggling it in the air. "Not so awesome for the library."

"That's so...intriguing...that you respect those other industries so much..." He replies, squinting, head tilting in a puppy dog manner.

Dean chuckles, setting the book down. Stares at the black cover as his smile slowly fades.

"Not much else I can do," he shrugs, shuffling through several books to find the one with the light yellow-beige cover, red outline and text reading Oliver Twist glaring up at him, and a small, square, painted picture of a boy in a hat playing at the edge of a wood sitting just above the title. "Once these places shut down, I'll inevitably drift into a bookstore, sign up to be a clerk or a stocker. 'Cause I mean," he flips the book over and opens the back page. Pulls out the name card from the pocket glued to the inside of the cover and examines it. "Yeah, a book ain't been checked out from here in three months."

He laughs and throws the book to his right, watches it skid across the table and come to a stop beside the red canvas hardcover with shiny blue letters indenting the words Of Mice and Men.

"Wow...so...I mean, how do you guys stay in business?" The guy is leaning ever forward, hands gripping the edge of the desk and arms stick straight as he balances himself over the books.

Dean smirks up at him.

"Ah," he scrubs at the back of his neck, cheeks hot, and looks away into the corner of the main entrance. "Well, charities? Mostly...and, uh, you know, school fundraisers, donations from the coffee shop down the street." He squints up at the giant skylight making up about ninety percent of the roof, thinking. "Oh, uh...this one guy. Some sorta bookwrite. Author of...damn, what are those things called...gaaahh...oh! An Angel's Lullaby!" Recognition passes over the man's face in clear abundance. "Guy's name, I'm still drawin' a blank on--"

"Chuck Shurley," the guy cuts him off but Dean is impressed. It's such an obscure book but he obviously knows it well.

"Yeah!" He points at the guy. "Yeah, yeah. You know him? I mean, his work?"

"Yeah...too well...why?"

"Ah, no...I'm just...just surprised, you know? Not a real popular selection," Dean thinks for a moment and it falls silent once more. Then: "You met him? He did a book signing here once. Not many people came, but..."

"Oh, yeah I've met him..." He doesn't elaborate, but Dean suspects it's because he just explained it for the guy, and it seems like it's making him a little uncomfortable anyway.

"Uh," he looks for something that might change the subject. "Well, to answer your first question..." He opens his mouth to continue but ends up chuckling and shaking his head. "Look, man, there's just too many books and not enough time. I've been coming to this library my entire life, probably read every single book by now. I mean, I can point you to some of my favourites, I guess, but really the only one off the top of my head and without me getting up is An Angel's Lullaby."

"Are you religious?" He asks suddenly and Dean's bewildered by the inquiry until he realises how obsessed he must seem with the book.

"Oh..." He breathes out a laugh. "Nah, that's...I'm an atheist, actually. I'm just...really into angels. Religions and...gods and deities are my thing. To be honest, I could probably list thirty Christian angels off the top of my head."

"Really," he seems impressed and Dean blushes harder. "How about...the three main archangels and...the Angel of Thursday."

Specific...and strange. But okay, he'll play along. For the sake of flirting.

"Okay...well there's Michael, the eldest son of God who was set to the task of casting Lucifer, second oldest, into hell because he claimed he could not love humanity as he loved his father. Gabriel, protector of humanity, present at the birth of Jesus Christ and the deliverer of the Holy news. And then...actually, my favourite, if I'm honest-" he looks up and watches the man's lips part, a blush crawling up his neck too, and he briefly wonders why, "-Castiel. Angel of Thursday, keeper of prayers said on that day." He smirks for a second before adding, "Always heard he was a real looker."

The man seems flustered, tugging at his jumper, pulling the v-neck away from his chest and adjusting his collar.

"Me too," he chokes out and Dean thinks it's entirely unfair how cute this man looks with a scarlet flush painting his cheeks and his hands not able to find a resting placing.

"I..." Dean starts, gazing down at his hand fiddling with the edge of a hardcover, nail scraping against the canvas. "I think I remember a few more books. Not real sure what you would like, but, uh..." He tears a corner off of the paper he was drawing on and scribbles down the titles and respective authors, then continues as he hands the list to the man. "Most of 'em are...classics...Little Women, Gone With the Wind, A Wrinkle in Time, Wuthering Heights...the original and best...version of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."

The man smiles down at the list and then down at Dean, and Dean's heart leaps into his throat.

"Thank you," he says quietly and Dean's eyes flit down, small smile of modest pride lifting his lips.

"Don't mention it," he whispers back, gaze meeting the man's once more. Then he leans forward and takes up the pen again, waggling it between two fingers. He leans on his bent arm and says, "So, you plannin' on checkin' anything out today, sir?"

And, without blinking or missing a beat, the man replies with the most unexpected answer, letting the words drip from his lips like fuckin' honey when he replies, "Just you."

Dean is astonished at this guy's guts, but a brazen vocabulary and a cocky attitude is exactly the kind of thing that gets him going.

He opens his mouth in a shocked kind of smile, and shakes his head as if he's offended at the nerve of those words.

"I...don't even know your name," Dean says slowly, eyes twitching from the man's leg to his chest to his mouth to his eyes. When they meet, the man tilts his head with another squint, this one more challenging than curious. Amazing how he can squint in the same manner with just the slightest differences and change the entire composure of the movement.

But Dean doesn't let himself get too distracted by this ability, and soon encounters a moment of realisation.

The blushing, fidgeting, stumbling words when he talked about Castiel...

"Your name is Castiel," he whispers, astounded. "And you have three brothers." Then more realisation. "And you haven't met Chuck Shurley, you used to live with him."

Castiel pushes his lips out and looks down, scratches through the stubble on the edge of his jaw, nods.

"And I assume," Castiel says, squinting at the wooden triangle at the corner of Dean's desk and smiling, then continuing, "your name is Dean Winchester and you work as a librarian."

"Hey, I am not...a librarian," he protests playfully, grin growing on his teeth. "I am...a book obsessed...checker...outer."

Castiel laughs and Dean gives him a look for a moment before bursting out into his own fit of laughter at how utterly ridiculous that title sounds.

"I'm guessing that sounded better in your head?"

"It did," Dean nods and chucks the pen at one of the books, sitting back in his chair again and kicking his legs up onto his desk. He cranes his neck and reaches behind him, grips the back of another rolling chair, and rolls it over so it's facing him. Pats the seat and jerks his head. "Come on around." Castiel looks uncertain, sliding the torn paper into his pocket and pursing his lips, slight squint of his eyes. Dean chuckles. "Come on. I don't bite."

"Isn't that against the rules or something?" Castiel asks as he makes his way around the right side of the desk and through the opening in the side, in spite of his words.

"'Eah, mostly," Dean shrugs and pushes his lips out, then smiles. "But no one else is around, don't have any cameras, and-" he holds out a hand, "-I'm a rebel."

Castiel laughs wholeheartedly at this, grin huge and gummy - the most enchanting thing Dean's ever seen - and his head tilted back, crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Dean notices a slight dimple in his left cheek and stores that information in the back of his mind for later, when he's having a rough day.

"What," he says, though he knows Castiel is laughing at his insanely stupid joking around.

"Nothing, you're just...really...interesting--"

"Interesting meaning...lame?" He squints and adds, "Dumbass, weirdo, bad amusement--"

"Hey, I genuinely laughed at that," Castiel points a finger at him, not hiding his grin.

Dean shakes his head, looks away, licks his lips. Things settle for a moment.

Dean plays with the hem of his black t-shirt, scratches his nails over the faded denim of his jeans, examines the familiar dark splotch of oil on the knee. He would dress nicer for work, but the last time anyone even walked through the doors was 48 hours ago, and he wasn't expecting any company today, either.

"Can't believe I'm flirting with the son of my favourite author," he mutters, reaching back over the back of his chair to snatch up another pen.

Castiel scoffs playfully, and Dean catches the smirk on his face when he turns back around.

"You call that flirting," Castiel quips, unbuttoning the wrists if his collared shirt and rolling the sleeves of both the shirt and jumper up.

Dean lets his brows drop and pushes his lips out in confusion. "Well...yeah..." Dean watches Castiel stifle a smile and glance down and away. "Why, what do you call it."

Castiel peeks up through mischievous, dark lashes and swimming eyes, lips parting in a secretive smirk.

"Honestly?" He starts, shifting in his seat and sitting back, settling his hands together in his lap. "A sad but sweet attempt to impress me."

"Oh, is that so?"

Castiel nods, grin growing across his cheeks.

"And what would you consider flirting, mr. big-shot-I-know-exactly-how-to-woo-the-ladies?"

"Well, first of all," Castiel leans forward, rests an elbow against his knee, uses the armrest to balance himself, and points at Dean with raised brows, as if he's about to teach a lesson. "Sir. There's a difference between being laid back and being downright cocky. And you-" the corner of his lips twitches up very briefly, and his cyan blue eyes turn dark "-are neither."

"So what, exactly," Dean whispers, fingers a bit too loosely woven around the pen, teeth digging into his lip. "Do you propose I do about it?"

Castiel's gummy smile is printed into his teeth again and he shrugs a shoulder, bringing his lips down in an impressed bow.

"Well, that's the first step. Ask what you are instead of asking what to change. When you know, even if it's not true, even if it's only what another person sees, you can accept it."

Dean squints, leaning further back into his chair, pressing his index finger into the ballpoint, black ink tip of the pen and the other to the textured top of the cap wrapped around the end, pushing his tongue into his cheek and pursing his lips.

"Alright, fine. What am I?" Dean imposes, then grips the tip of the pen between his thumb and finger and adds, "To you. Smartass."

This earns him a short chuckle and an approving nod.

"Well...I think...you're reserved. You act like you're king shit and like you know exactly who you are, like you don't give two flying fucks about where you're headed in life, or maybe like you've already accepted it. You act comfortable with yourself, but what nerd is ever actually satisfied with their existence?" He's leaning ever-forward and Dean's cocksure smile is ever-fading, eyes becoming wide with marvel as the man-who-knows-too-much continues. "I think you're unsure. You're scared and you...you hide things that you think no one cares about. You're upset and self-deprecating. Eyes of a guilty conscience."

Dean drops his gaze, first to the floor, then to the pen, still grasped tightly by his fingers which have fallen into his lap and which fiddle vapidly with the object, nail scraping at the black polycarbonate and over the white indents that spell out the company name.

"But," Castiel starts up again, voice soft and lilting. Dean swallows hard. "I think you have a lot to give. I think you have...maybe too much to give. Too much forgiveness, too much love, too much doubt, too much strength and care. I think you are the embodiment of generosity, but you don't take what you really need in return. And I think that can get dangerous, but I also think that nothing is ever really too much." Dean's eyes flit back up in time to catch Castiel's angling downward, past Dean's chair, through the desk, through the floor, staring wistfully at something intangible. "People are greedy. And you're too willing to give."

Dean searches the man's face for any sign that this is all some sort of joke, that he's being filmed or some shit, but all he finds is truth and wisdom and knowledge, and possibly a glimmer, just a glimpse in those blue eyes, of a bittersweet past, an origin for where these words came from.

"I was right!" He exclaims as he sits back in the chair, shoulders trembling with a silent laugh. "You like to cover up your pain with gay jokes and stupid references."

"Now, that, I can't deny," Dean nods and everything falls silent. He rocks his chair gently, side to side, left to right, fingers still fidgeting with the tips of the pen, his head tilted in thought. Castiel's mouth is pulled up into a ginger smile, his eyes faraway and swimming in themselves, in the past, in glistening memories and soft-edged, slow-motion, sunny-fielded dreams. "What about you?" He asks suddenly, voice crackling and ripping through the still air as a quiet question. Castiel eyes don't move but his smile grows slightly. "I mean...what do you think of yourself."

"Not much," he replies, head lolling to the side and back, eyes catching on the impotent, pathetic little piles of books scattered about Dean's desk. "I like books. Reading. Writing. Time-consuming, arbitrary activities which include my eyes scanning words on a piece of pressed wood?" He furrows his brows and Dean throws his head back in a genuine, full laughter that he hasn't experienced in a long time.

"I can tell you write. What do you write about? Like, schmoopy romance novels? Sci-fi thrillers? Action adventure futurism?"

"And I can tell you do a lot of librarian...ing..." Castiel squints and presses his lips together in the contrite afterthought but continues, nevertheless. "I write what my dad would call 'a bunch of gay shit'." Dean cocks a brow. "Get your head out of the gutter, it's not as sexy as it sounds. For the most part. Bottom line, I'm gay, I hang out with gay people, and I wanted to dedicate my life to writing about it, about that experience. But my dad has never approved much."

"You don't say."

"Yeah...he's...more into theology. I think the one book he's ever written that really ventures into the realm of fiction, or at least dips it's toes past the line, is An Angel's Lullaby."

"Which parts are real?" Dean scratches the pen across the bumpy plastic chair arm and watches the black ink run in splotches over the grey of the polyvinyl.

"Our names, obviously," Castiel shifts again, bringing his leg down from across his knee and kicking off from the floor so he spins in a circle. Dean watches with a strangely adoring smile. "It's funny that that's the part most people think is fiction. But, no. Mom was a Jesus nut and Dad is too passive to care, so we ended up with angelic names and weird looks from sane people. The only parts that aren't completely true are the things like our address, the colours they painted our rooms, some of the dialogue that he added or got rid of in order to make the conversations more interesting or sensible - you know, just these really inane things..."

He trails off and he's staring at Dean with expectant brows, and Dean realises he's staring too, realises Castiel probably stopped because it's weird how attentive he is.

"Sorry. You're fun to listen to."

Castiel's cheeks paint themselves a thick fuchsia and his eyes drop to his empty palms resting uselessly in his lap, the lines becoming suddenly very interesting. Then they catch on his watch and widen and his head whips up.

"Well, if I'm so interesting to listen to," he leans forward, snatches the pen from Dean's hand, then takes the other hand and begins a careful scrawl across the back of it as he continues, "why don't you call me. And we can figure out a time to meet at the-" he recaps the pen and gently replaces it in Dean's hand "-coffee place down the street. But, right now, I have to go. College...and shit. Studying for a major in English takes a lot of time away from socialising."

"Sorry to keep you, I didn't--"

"No no no! It was..." His blush deepens and he stands, head down. "It was incredible to meet you. I really hope I can see you again."

"O-Of course," Dean's voice comes out stammered and soft, crackling with hope and fear and adoration, and Castiel smiles broadly.

"Great," he whispers back, then he's rushing around the side of the desk and out the front door and Dean is left to wonder if the entire exchange was even real or if his lonely, empty mind is just playing games.

When he looks at the neat, black little numbers on his hand, he realises just how real right now is.

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