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kisses4reid · 6 months

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convenient pt.3 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pt. 1 | pt.2 (you cannot read this without prior reading)

summary - spencer likes the girl from the convenience store

warnings - awkward conversations and long silences, both of them being hopeless romantics, allergies/sickness

genre - fluff!!! college!fem!reader x earlyseasons!spencer

a/n - thank you for the love and support on this series. it goes without saying i appreciate all of you all 🫶 thank u @raevyng for the cameo. sorry this is short, it’s either i upload this part or i make y’all wait for another week - i like you guys too much to do that.

“good job on you’re stem cell report, y/n. it was very informed and unique. i liked the, now who was it… william blake quote you included!” the teacher spoke before a class of 60. it was back to teaching new information before the next assessment, you were just about finished typing the professor’s notes before she spoke up. the mention of your name nearly made you jump.

a few of the students looked back up at you, some looking around because they had no clue who you were. you liked it better that way.

you also had no idea who william blake was.

“oh- um. thanks.” you say barely above a whisper. professor raena simply smiled and pushed back her shoulder length bob from her face. she started talking again, so did your friend.

“thanks? the professor who’s known to call out people for their incompetence more than smile in the classroom just praised you. that’s all you had to say?”

maybe logan wasn’t your friend per say. maybe she was just someone who sat next to you the first class and also happened to be your neighbour. she was stubborn and straight-forward, insanely intelligent and also smelt great. but she was caring, and gave you tough love when you needed it.

you glanced at her and smiled awkwardly, “i didn’t have much time to think about an answer.”

“i spend most of my time thinking about what i’d say to professor raena if she ever complimented me.”

“that’s because your-“ you suddenly muffle a cough into your hand, “obsessed with her.” you bring out a small packet of tissues from your bag and wipe your nose, nose reddening. logan leans slightly away from you and you roll your eyes.

“you’re not going to catch anything, it’s just allergies.” you lean back and try to continue typing notes but logan continues,

“you should go home, have some medicine, get some sleep.”

“i can’t, i’ve got work.” you whispered, a man in front of you turning around to shoot you with a side eye.

“you’ve told me multiple times that your manager wouldn’t care if you stole from the store. i’ve also told you many times i also don’t care.”

“yeah well… i like working there, that’s all.”

she rolls her eyes again, and waves you off, her long brown hair blocking her disappointed expression from you.

you stayed loyal to your job for two nights, for nothing. sure you got paid, and sure you got to steal some strawberry milk to ease your throat for a couple of minutes, but it felt boring. you actually started to file through the month old magazines you sold for double the price of a new one. you almost made it a third day without dying of allergies (and another secret feeling of sickness you constantly ignored), before you decided you were over it.

you stood up, flipped the door sign so the word ‘open’ faced you, and turned off half of the fluorescent lights before someone was suddenly in the corner of your eyes. spencer was opening the door so quickly you thought you were being robbed, you wouldn’t have seen him if not for the bell ringing on his entry.

“y/n.” he panted, watching your fingers hover over the last light switch. there was two lights left flickering softly above the front door and the check out desk. he looked stoic in the light, dressed in a grey sweater a little too big for him (like his mother had bought it for him telling him he’d grow into it) and black slacks. he seemed to have gotten a trim, his hair just under his ears now. “you don’t close until 1.”

he was confused, eyes wandering with a light hint of relief. like he was happy he didn’t miss you.

“yeah.” is all you said before you turned away from the light switch and returned to the register, assuming he would get his usual. but he didn’t keep walking, he just turned his body to face you. his eyes were expectant, delirious in a way like he needed something from you.

it was silent before the tension literally forced you to speak, “um. i need to close the store before i pass out. so i can uh… get home alive.” you look down and realise the pile of tissues before you was making a mountain, quickly grabbing them and stuffing them in an over filled bin.

“um.” a cat caught his tongue, he looked down to his feet.

spencer was sitting in his desk chair, scrolling on his government provided computer through forums and websites on ‘how to ask out a girl.’ not realising a majority of his team was reading them as well. he heard a small, familiar giggle behind him, quickly closing the tab and turning his head to be met with many other faces. jj slapped garcia on the shoulder with a smile, who’s hand was over her mouth, morgan and emily also smiling. spencer sighed and was about to cover for himself before morgan stepped in,

“look, pretty boy. no websites or article is ever going to teach you how to ask out a girl. they know nothing.”

emily joined, “yeah, none of those things are going to work. i mean, one of those said ‘don’t take no for an answer’. that’s straight up harassment.” she chuckled. morgan walked forward and placed a hand on spencer’s shoulder.

“all you have to do is talk. learn to what she likes, and be confident.”

“that’s easy for you to say.” spencer mumbled.

“who is this girl anyways? who’s taking our genius away from us?” garcia asked, today her hair was adorned with green themed pieces and a small pink flower clip.

spencer couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth perk up when he thought about the girl who worked at the convenience store. the girl who’s report honestly impressed him. the girl who knew his total without looking at the register. the girl who called him good looking without noticing, like it slipped off of her tongue with no second thought. “just someone.”

you were not just someone.

“yeah you should get home. you look terrible.” spencer’s eyes widened as you raised an eyebrow, “no i mean- not terrible- you never look or have ever looked terrible- i just meant today- no you- like you’re sick and obviously- i mean you don’t obviously look terrible- it’s just uh…” he nodded at himself after he noticed a smile creeping onto your face. “you know what i mean.”

“i know i look terrible, thank you.” he was slowly walking up to the register.

“you really should go home, i shouldn’t keep you here because of some coffee.”

you eyes stung and were puffed in redness, you nose dried yet running, eyebrow lines permanent from warding off a migraine. any other customer you would stay for, but you felt less guilty with him. not because you didn’t care, because you knew he did.

“yeah, thank you.” you grabbed your bag, put your empty water bottle into it and walked over to the lights, turning off the last ones, leaving you both in darkness. spencer was waiting for you, quite creepily as he was basically just a block of void. “you sure you don’t need your 3 minute lasagne?” you joked, and he smiled.

“no, this is fine.”

this? them? you thought this man was articulate.

you opened the door with a key-accessed button that automatically locked it after it closed, and walked into the warm streetlight with spencer.

“bye spencer.” you looked up to him only to find his eyes already on you. his face was plain of emotion, except maybe it was just the lighting that made you think he looked disappointed. not at you, at himself. he was silent, hands making their way into his pockets. it was a habit, you had learned. “what’s wrong spencer?” you asked softly, sniffling immediately after.

it was cold, the wind let a stray piece of hair cross your stuffy features.

“do you like old bookstores, y/n?”

you blinked, taken aback. “yeah. i like old bookstores.” you huddled into your sweater, a darker grey compared to his with a large font displaying your university.

“okay, goodbye y/n. see you tomorrow.” he hurried off into his car and you followed him with you eyes in curiosity.

you were already walking away before he could turn around and ask you something, he felt like he had missed his chance. but there would be more. spencer closed his eyes in frustration and took a breath, starting his car before texting the team’s group chat.

“Attempt One failed. 😐👎”

there was a string of messages after but he didn’t read them. all he could think about was the percentage of people who die alone, and then the percentage of people who are like you.

the next night he appeared at the normal time, around nearly 11pm. but he wasn’t the only one, logan was there with you, studying behind you on the floor.

she was bored, and needed to get out of her room, and the only person she knew well enough was you. there in her mens pyjama pants and an over-sized shirt that read ‘RIP Princess Diana’ with a photo of owen wilson on it, her computer warmed her lap and made a soft whirling sound the in the background.

“hi y/n.” spencer waved, he felt bad about last night. you were barely walking straight when you left and he could tell you wouldn’t get out of your ‘work clothes’ (whatever you wanted to wear with a vest over it) before falling onto your mattress, and he drove away. he didn’t even offer to take and walk you home, let alone give you a ride. but his hands were sweating and his heart thumping in his ears, and he couldn’t think straight.

“oh, hi spencer.” you turned from your own textbook splayed on the counter beside you to see spencer and his tall self. a bag of apples, a 2 minute bolognese container, and a bag of coffee. you scan them, weigh the apples, and watch him.

he wasn’t meeting you eyes. you furrowed your eyebrows for a second before telling him his total with a sniffle.

“i’m sorry for not driving you home,” he lifted his head, a piece of chocolate brown hair crossing his left eye, “or walking you home. or making sure you made it home safe.”

you widened your eyes slightly and sat still before spencer cleared his throat and continued, “i was nervous, about being around you. and my friends- my colleagues- told me i need to be more confident around you so.”

logan had stopped writing, glancing through her bangs up at you both. your mouth was slightly agape before you realised how stupid you looked and how awkward you were making it.

“oh- no it’s okay spencer, you don’t have to say sorry. i was- i’m fine. um,” you tilt your head with the corner of your lips quirking up with little resistance, “you talk about me to your friends?”

spencer nodded, put his hands in his pockets and thought for a second. he wished there was a better place to do this, a better person to take over for him.

all you have to do is talk.

spencer is great at talking.

“did you know that you could be scrolling for seven weeks before you can reach the end of ‘how to ask a girl out’ results on google? i was scrolling for a long time but then my friends told me to just talk and be confident, but i’m only good at one of those thing. so i was trying to ask you out last night but then i- well i failed basically, it isn’t my strong suit,” he took a breath, “so basically i’m saying sorry for not asking you out and not driving you home.”

it was silent, even a customer stopped humming.

“and also your allergy medication isn’t strong enough for your symptoms.” he glanced down to a white and blue box by your hand. you looked down, seeing logan in the corner of your eyes, hand covering her face.

“spencer-“

“dude just ask her out.”

spencer’s face dropped, and he looked over the counter to find another woman sat down, a cringed out expression on her face. his nervousness increased after he realised this wasn’t as private a conversation as he thought. wiping his hand on his vest, he continue with a gulp,

“no i can’t. not here, um. i’ll see you on monday. and i promise i’ll uh- be better? i’ll try again, so. okay see you on monday.” he quickly took his groceries and walked off quite speedily. you watched him walk away and then once he was out of sight, you simply stared at the box of allergy medication on the counter.

logan groaned in the background and said something about growing balls, but it was tv silence for you.

you didn’t know how to go out with someone, your last relationship was in your first year of high school with a guy who thought baby’s came out of a woman’s bum. not that spencer meant he wanted a relationship, no it could just be a friend ‘going out’. totally not romantic.

you slump and stuff your face in your hands. you didn’t care if you hadn’t dated for however long, he didn’t seem to be a man-whore at all. you just cared about how you were actually going to say yes to a man you’ve only talked to inside of an off-brand convenience store on the night shift.

you muffle a scream before the same silent customer placed a carton of milk on the counter.

“$2.50.” you grumble.

you carried logan’s computer bag as she took out a box of strawberry pocky on the sidewalk. the store was locked, the air was crisp, the light was flickering. you didn’t say much until logan couldn’t stand it anymore.

“you know when you’re this silent it’s actually pretty nice, i like peaceful walks home.” you nodded, and continued your racing thoughts with your line of vision stuck on the concrete as you both walked the block to your apartments. she sighed, “but it’s odd. you love talking. a guy likes you and you go mute?”

“his name is spencer, he does something dangerous for a living, he likes old books and drinks a lot of coffee. he gets home late at night, looks skinny but can lift a box of flour above his head with ease. he’s insanely smart and reads poetry, and helped me with my stem cell report.”

you look over at logan who looks a little disgusted but mainly confused.

“he helped me lift that box of flour without me asking. i have no idea who william blake is. i have no idea how he managed to put poetry in a biology report, and i have no idea how he can admit he’s going to ask me out and then not ask me out. his favourite colour is purple, his favourite fruit is grapes but he buys apples because they’re cheaper. and his name is… spencer.”

logan stopped in her tracks, making you copy. you flung out of whatever trance you were stuck in and raised an eyebrow at logan, “what?”

“what? oh no i don’t know, maybe you’ve just never told me about a man you happen to know a lot about, and yet don’t know anything about. you sound insane- not in the ‘loony-bin way’, in the romcom way. it’s disgusting.”

you both continued to walk, climbing the stairs to the foyer of your building before she took back her bag and gave you the pocky, mumbling, “you need these more than me.”

the elevator ride was mostly silent, and that continued before you both unlocked your apartment doors right beside each other.

“you need to ask him out, if he doesn’t do it first.” she entered her apartment before you could speak, let alone think.

suddenly your apartment felt lonely.

so did spencer’s.

he was cross legged on his plush couch on a call with penelope garcia, she was squealing every second minute trying to create a plan for spencer to ask someone out.

“spence, you’re making this very hard. how am i supposed to be your coach if i only have half a team?”

“you can find someone’s address with half a fingerprint, i think you’ll be fine.” he takes a bite of his 2 minute bolognese.

“that takes the fun out of it. i can only give you tips if i know her personality.”

spencer sighed, and thought for a second, he could practically hear penelope’s growing smile knowing she had won.

“her names y/n.” garcia squealed. “she’s smart and pretty. and her favourite colour’s purple and she studies biology. she knows my groceries off my heart and she’s allergic to pollen. she works late at night at the convenience store two blocks away from my apartment building, and she likes old book stores. she’ll be introverted around an extroverted person, but extroverted around an introverted person. she can read my expressions faster than anyone else, she tries out different hairstyles when nobody’s in the store, and she’s funny.” spencer smiles to himself, “she’s pretty.”

“you mentioned that, lover boy.”

pt.4

taglist: @jeffswh0re @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @trashmonstersara @wannabewolf @evysian @navs-bhat @mywellspringoflife @daphnesutton @smalls155 @amortencjja @anuncalledbridge @belsreid @redmurderbaby @tatilolz @criminalmindsandhouse @forensicuntology @nomajdetective @ilikw @screechingphantommaker

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #cm #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid series

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risuola · 4 months

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ENTRY #10 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // You make my heart do things it's not supposed to do.

contents: arranged marriage!au, teeth rotting fluff, nothing else — wc. 1000

a/n: expect me to drop few entries very quickly because they are all finished in my drafts <3

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It still flustered him.

Satoru never, not once in his 28 years of life, felt more confused, than right now. Why was his heart doing backflips in his chest? He sat there, on the wooden chair frozen and thankful for the furniture that held his weight because if suddenly it’d be taken away, he would collapse to the floor, meet the cold kitchen tiles and melt against them into a puddle of mess. He was there, stuck in time with his head empty and heart racing in his chest, rumbling against the cage of his ribs while you were going about the day without a care and attention to his pathetic state. A state you reduced him to.

It’s been few minutes already and Gojo sat there in silence, watching your back as you were washing fruit in the sink, snacking on the juicy strawberries he grabbed for you earlier that morning — a gesture foreign to his own body but he wanted, for once, to be the person who made you smile and not only experience the effect of someone else’s doing. He woke up earlier that day, before the sun even peaked above the horizon line and with his thoughts racing and stomach full of butterflies, he went on a very special mission.

It was a tiny market, way outside Tokyo but with the loveliest sellers. He found a booth he eyed once when on the job in the area, a stand full of little hand-woven baskets, each of them brimmed with fruit. The strawberries were red, some very bright and some very deep in color, glistening in the early sun with the morning dew that scattered across the surface looked as if little crystals were adorning the harvest. Satoru smiled and the old lady smiled as well.

“How can I help you, young man?” She asked, spreading her arms invitingly and Satoru could tell, by the look of her calloused hands, stained in juice and dirt, she was working hard every day to make a living.

“My wife loves strawberries,” he began, catching himself on the ease with which the word wife left his mouth, “but I don’t know much about picking the best ones. Could you help me with that?”

“You came to the right place, son!”

Just few moments later, Satoru was walking slowly towards his house, after warping back into the city. In his hand, a bag hung hooked over his fingers, full of those little baskets and their contents. He might have gone overboard with the purchase, but the joyful tears that welled in the eyes of that old woman when he paid her for fruit — definitely much more than it was worth according to the prices — he had no regrets. In result he carried the bagful of not only strawberries but also some apples, raspberries and sweet cherries — all of which he was forced to take, despite his initial plans of getting only the red ones you like so much.

“There you are, right on time,” your beautiful, melodic voice greeted him the moment he swung the doors open, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. He could’ve bought you flowers as well, he planned to do so, but he had to evacuate himself from the grasp of that one seller lady, because as lovely as she was, if he stayed a moment longer, she would pack him her entire harvest of that morning. “I thought you went out earlier, but I made breakfast for you anyway.”

“I went for a little walk,” he said, trying to sound as nonchalant and at ease as he could despite the rageful whirl of butterflies in his stomach. Why was he so nervous? “And I bought you these.”

A soft thud barely made itself apparent above the cacophony of clinking plates and cutlery, but it was enough to catch your attention. You looked at him, curious, and somewhat carefully reached into the bag now rested on the kitchen table. Your face brightened up, your eyes glimmered and you smiled — and Satoru could’ve sworn he’s never seen something more beautiful. You reminded him of a child that got a toy it dreamed of. Pure happiness washed over your features and he wondered if it was always that easy to bring joy to your otherwise calm self.

“Oh my god, Satoru–“ you gasped out, fishing out one of the berries and after a short rinse under the water, you popped it into your mouth and melted. He was told by the woman in the market that the type she was growing on her fields was exceptionally sweet, with the right amount of tang and a lot of juice.

“Tasty?” He asked, watching how you savored the flavor with pure pleasure.

They were tasty. He found out himself, because when your lips pressed to his own, he forgot how to breathe and the only things on his mind were the plushiness of your mouth and that sweetness. His body moved on its own, his hands found their place on your hips, pulled you in, as if it was a natural reaction for him to bring you closer.

And then, before he managed to secure his grip on you, you were gone from his proximity, leaving only the lingering taste of strawberries on his lips and a growing confusion.

I love you.

He heard that right, a gentle whisper against his mouth. You said it, this time you said it for sure, this time he was sure the words actually were spoken, not read between lines.

“Sit down, Satoru, eat your breakfast,” you sing-sang happily, as if you didn’t stop the entire globe just now. As if you didn’t just alter the universe he was in, shifting the rhythm of the muscle in his chest permanently. As if you didn’t just tell him you love him.

But he sat down, afraid to not lose his balance and absentmindedly shoved a piece of a pancake into his mouth.

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thef1diary · 5 months

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Love Unwrapped | L. Norris

Summary: after mutually breaking up, you and Lando drifted apart. However, on your birthday, Lando shows up unexpectedly with a gift, reigniting old feelings.

— part of the Birthday Bash fics

warnings: angst if you squint, fluff.

pairing: lando x fem!ex!reader

wc: 1.6k

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As you sit alone in your cozy apartment, the soft glow of the moonlight casting dancing shadows on the walls, you can't help but feel a twinge of loneliness. It's your birthday, but this year feels different somehow—empty, without the usual excitement and celebration.

Just as you resign yourself to a quiet night in, there's a sudden knock on the door, interrupting your thoughts. Surprised, you glance at the clock. Who could it be at this hour?

Opening the door reveals a familiar figure standing on your doorstep, a sheepish smile playing at the corners of his lips. It's Lando, holding a small gift bag in his hand and a larger bag in the other.

"Hey," he says, his voice warm yet tentative. "Happy birthday."

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of him. "Lando? You remembered?"

He chuckles softly, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. "Of course I did. I just wanted to stop by and wish you a happy birthday. Mind if I come in?"

You step aside, allowing him entry into your humble abode. "Of course, come on in."

As Lando enters, you can't help but notice the subtle changes in his appearance—the confidence in his posture, the newfound ease in his smile. It's as if he's grown in the time since you last saw him, even if it was just one month ago.

"Take a seat," you offer, gesturing towards the couch. "Can I get you anything? Tea, maybe?"

Lando shakes his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "No, thanks. I'm good."

You both settle onto the couch, the awkward silence hanging between you like a thick fog. It feels like it's been so long since you've been alone together like this, and the unfamiliarity of the situation is palpable.

"So, um, how have you been?" Lando finally breaks the silence, his voice hesitant.

You sigh, a mixture of relief and sadness flooding through you. "I've been okay, I guess. Just trying to keep busy with work and stuff. How about you?"

He nods, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes. "Yeah, same here. Work's been keeping me pretty occupied."

You nod but hold back on mentioning that you have been following his season in Formula One, watching every race despite the ungodly hours it required you to wake up at.

The conversation falls into a comfortable rhythm as you catch up on each other's lives, sharing stories and laughter like old times. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, there's a sense of familiarity between you that refuses to fade.

Suddenly, Lando reaches into the gift bag and pulls out a neatly wrapped box, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "I, uh, got you something."

Your eyes widen in surprise as he hands you the gift. "You didn't have to," you mumble, aching to tell him that his presence was enough.

"Open it."

With trembling hands, you carefully unwrap the gift, your heart pounding in anticipation. When you finally open the box, you're met with the sight of something you've always wanted—beautiful dainty necklace adorned with smaller diamonds, one that you'd admired countless times in the store but could never bring yourself to buy.

You've been saving up for this dainty piece for a while, but never expected that Lando would give it to you as a gift.

You're speechless, unable to find the words to express your gratitude. Lando watches you anxiously, waiting for your reaction.

Finally, you manage to speak, your voice barely above a whisper. "Lando, this is... It's amazing, thank you.”

He smiles warmly at you, his eyes filled with an emotion you can't quite place. "I saw you staring at it at the store a while back, so I thought this would be the right moment to get it for you."

You're overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, by the fact that he remembered something so small yet meaningful. It's a reminder of why you fell for him in the first place.

"You know," Lando begins, his voice soft but filled with sincerity, "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately... about us."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, uncertainty mingling with anticipation in the air between you. "Oh? What about us?"

He shifts slightly on the couch, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "I miss what we had," he admits, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken longing. "The late-night conversations, the inside jokes, the way we just... fit together."

You swallow hard, the memories of your time together flooding back with startling clarity. "I miss those things too," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando reaches out, his hand finding yours in a gesture that feels both familiar and foreign. "I know we said we'd remain friends," he says, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand, "but... I can't shake the feeling that there's still something between us. Something worth fighting for."

His words hang in the air between you, heavy with the weight of unspoken longing and uncertainty. For a moment, neither of you knows what to say, the silence stretching on uncomfortably.

He wasn't wrong, you had parted as a couple but still promised to remain friends. That promise was left unfulfilled because of your different lives taking you on different paths. It was the reason why you had broken up in the first place.

Then, you gather your courage, meeting his gaze with determination. "I feel it too," you confess, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "But... I'm scared, Lando. Scared of our love not being enough for each other again."

Lando nods in understanding, his eyes filled with empathy as he squeezes your hand gently. "I know," he murmurs. "But maybe... maybe we can take things slow this time. See where it leads us."

The idea fills you with both excitement and trepidation, the prospect of rekindling your relationship mingling with the fear of repeating past events. But as you sit there together, the warmth of his hand in yours, you can't help but feel a glimmer of hope—a hope that maybe, just maybe, this time things will be different.

As the night wears on, the comforting embrace of conversation wraps around you and Lando like a warm blanket, easing the tension that had lingered in the air.

The soft flicker of birthday candles illuminates the room as he holds the cake for you, waiting for you to make a wish and blow it out.

You look at him before closing your eyes, already knowing what you want to wish for before blowing out the few lit candles in one quick breath.

You say, "I can't believe you got me a cake," as you cut into the rich chocolate cake and give him a slice on a plate before taking one for yourself.

Lando chuckles, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Of course I did. After all, what's a birthday without cake?"

You smile, the sweetness of the gesture warming your heart. "It's delicious. Thank you, Lan." The nickname easily slips from your tongue, as if you never stopped saying it, and his heart warms knowing the feeling of familiarity never died down.

As you continue to talk and laugh, the clock on the wall ticks closer and closer to midnight, marking the end of your birthday. But for now, in the glow of moonlight and the warmth of Lando's company, time seems to stand still.

Eventually, the inevitable moment arrives when Lando has to leave. You walk him to the door, the weight of the conversation earlier hanging heavy in the air between you.

Lando turns to face you, his gaze searching yours with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. "I don't want to rush things," he begins, his voice soft but determined, "but I also don't want to let this chance slip away."

You nod, meeting his gaze with hope, feeling the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "I don't either," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a gentle smile, Lando reaches out and cups your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. His thumb brushes against your lips, feeling the softness he desperately wants to feel against his own lips.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, his voice still soft in fear of ruining the moment. Placing your palm on his cheek, you nod.

Without wasting another moment, he closes the gap between you, placing his lips on yours.

For a moment, the world falls away, leaving only the two of you standing there in the middle of your apartment, joined by the shimmering moonlight. As you fall back into the familiarity of his lips on yours, you realize that this is where you belong—here, in Lando's arms.

It's a kiss filled with promise and possibility, a kiss that speaks of new beginnings and endless love.

When you finally pull away, your heart is pounding in your chest, the warmth of Lando's lips lingering on yours like a sweet memory.

"I'll give you some space to think about it," he says, his thumb brushing against your skin in a tender caress. "But just know that I'm here, whenever you're ready.”

You nod, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. But as you watch him leave your apartment, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips—a smile filled with hope for the future, and the possibility of love rekindled.

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wileys-russo · 1 month

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in the blink of an eye (3) II a.putellas

part one part two

in the blink of an eye (3) II a.putellas

"alexia?"

your eyes almost fell out of your head in shock at the bewildered looking blonde stood at your front door.

you shouldn't have been surprised she remembered your old apartment given this is where the two of you first set down roots.

the place itself had been owned by your sister, rented out to you for next to nothing while you were drowning in student debt.

you'd kicked and fought and argued with natalia to charge you what she would a proper tenant, determined not to be a burden and take the handout, but your sister forever stubborn had dug her heels in and refused.

you owed a lot to natalia.

the two of you were always thick as thieves despite the fact she was five years older, if anything that just meant you idolized her more.

you had always looked up to her, wanted to follow in her footsteps and make something of yourself just like she did.

your sister had been drawn to helping others since she was a child, performing practice 'surgeries' on dolls and toys, giving CPR to your teddys and tending to and bandaging up every little scrape, bump, bruise or paper cut you'd had without a second thought.

which given your track record of being unable to sit still, instead found climbing trees, riding cardboard down hills and racing your bike everywhere without a helmet on, were not exactly few and far between.

right out of high school natalia had already been accepted into university on an early entry offer, and with impeccable grades and a resume of volunteering and community work near 4 pages long, it was to nobodys surprise.

she'd studied to be a paramedic, also with those same genes of being unable to sit still the thought of being stuck in a hospital all day long was not on the cards for her.

she'd met her husband on her first week of university, and you were the first person she told after he kissed her goodbye on the first date, something natalia never did.

you'd teased her for the way her cheeks flushed pink and she stumbled over her words, giggling like a school girl and giddy with delight it was a stark contrast to her normally rational and stern demeanor.

so maybe you'd known he was the one for her before she did.

you were her maid of honour at their wedding two years later, and alexia had been your date, in fact that was the first time the poor girl had been subjected to meeting your extended family and you'd been so nervous you downed half a bottle of champagne before even leaving for the ceremony itself.

you owed a lot to your sister.

she was, even if you refused to ever tell her so, a huge factor in why you'd pursued law so fiercely.

you could have dropped down to a part time degree to ease the mental load it took on you, but determined to show everyone that whatever she could do you could too, you pushed on.

you would make something of yourself and make her proud of you.

only now, now it was a shame you hadn't finished that degree. you hadn't graduated.

when you left barcelona for madrid you’d dropped down to a part time degree, doubling the time it would take to finish, choosing to fill your time wallowing in your own self pity party.

when your mami’s health had started to decline you’d missed exams, seminars, your first set of placement hours.

you’d fallen behind, the mountain you needed to climb to catch up growing bigger by the day as did the mental load that stretching yourself so thin between home and heart took on you.

so you’d deferred, pushed it right to the back of your mind which was already a mess with everything going on, not unlike that one drawer in everyone’s house where all the crap you never use goes, abandoned and lost but still there, somewhere.

and now you were back living under natalias roof, her handout. and even though you knew it wasn't true and that natalia was always proud of you no matter what, your sister now wouldn't ever be there to tell you so herself.

when you and alexia broke up you withdrew from everything, from everyone. you retreated inside the four walls of your own mind because with those up nobody could get in to hurt you again.

out of a cocktail of both guilt, fear and pain you pushed everyone away, fled to madrid and started over by yourself, changed universities, transferred your degree and started part time and rented a tiny little shoebox above a bar that thumped and pulsed and kept you up all night.

but you didn't care, didn't reach out for help when things went from bad to worse, because if nobody was close then not only could you spare yourself more pain but it meant you couldn't hurt anyone again.

like you knew you'd hurt alexia.

your sister had tried to pull you out of that shell, pushing on forward despite how many barriers you put up to try and slow her down. because thats not who natalia was, giving up when things got hard was not what she did.

but then she'd fallen pregnant and your mami’s health dropped and just like after that date all those years ago you were the first person she called, seven times before you finally picked up to be exact, and finding out the news began to change things.

your icy outer shell began to melt away. you'd come back home for holidays and birthdays, and then for weekends, and then just because.

when mariposa was born you saw a whole new side to your sister. she'd always been one of the most empathetic and caring human beings, and natalia was the best sister you could have asked for, however, natalia was made to be a mother.

your own mami was shocked at how easily she adapted, days on end without sleep seeming to not phase her as routines were cemented and bonds formed, and posie had been drowned with love and affection from the moment she entered the world as natalias daughter.

but now, now she was gone.

you wished you'd called her more, told her how much she meant to you instead of just assuming she knew, told her you loved her, how proud you were of her.

your sisters job as a paramedic had been to save lives, and yet within seconds her own was gone and there wasn't a single thing anyone could do about it, and that feeling of helplessness, it had broken you.

but your life and your feelings and your grief didn't matter anymore. your sister has entrusted you from the moment mariposa was born to be not only her tia

"alexia?" you repeated yourself as she looked like a little kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, guilt in her eyes and mouth slightly agape ready to hurry out an excuse about why she was doing what she was, calves tense like she was ready to bolt in the other direction at the drop of a hat.

only really, alexia had no excuse, had no words.

at the sight of you up close and personal, a real living breathing person and not merely a haunted figment of her imagination, after it had been so long the girls mouth ran dry and her head drained like a bathtub of any and all logical thought.

"eh...hola?" the blonde managed out, jolting slightly as there was an ear piercing scream behind you and you moved to push the door closed a little more, clearly sheltering away whatever was going on behind you.

"hola." you replied back in shock, both of you just looking one another up and down, until the crying behind you grew louder and you seemed to snap out of the haze which had befallen you in your ex girlfriends presence.

"alexia i- lo siento now is really not a good time." you cringed as posie screamed again and there was a clatter where she threw her cup across the room, having an absolute meltdown over the fact you'd refused to let her have a chocolate muffin for dinner instead of the chicken and rice you'd cooked.

as much as you did struggle to say no to her and you really wanted to give her everything she wanted and more, you also knew part of your role as her guardian was to make sure she was eating right and staying healthy.

plus the three year old was already long overdue a nap, her normal schedule thrown off with the mid afternoon meeting with ana, and you knew if you pumped her full of sugar she'd not go down and the rest of the day would be a nightmare.

"i-no lo siento i should have told you i was coming. well i mean i could not have but i just saw you today and i do not have your number and i just-well i-" alexia struggled to string together a sentence and an ever so slight glimpse of a smile made its way to your lips.

"-and here you are." you finished it for her as the catalan blushed slightly and nodded. “lucky guess.” you forced a smile, and at the rosy pink flush tinting her tanned skin you had a strange feeling settle in your stomach.

it wasn't something new, but it wasn't something exactly all that familiar. it felt like someone was trying to tie up all your innards into a balloon animal, twisting and pinching and tugging at parts that felt both foreign and peculiar.

you couldn't quite make heads or tails of it but the one thing that was obvious was the cause of all these strange new feelings, was alexia.

though just like before you were yanked out of your haze by the sound of something smashing, head ducking around the door to see your niece had managed to kick away the top of her high chair and was stood up and screaming now.

"oye, vuelve a sentarte!" you yelled to her as she screamed and wailed unhappily, tiny face glowing red as you began to worry she might pass out as the colour in her cheeks grew brighter by the second.

"te odio tía! te odio!" posie screamed and your heart broke to see her so distraught and not know the right way to deal with it. however so focused on the girl you missed the twelve different emotions which flashed across your ex's face as she was sure she'd misheard what was going on inside.

tía?

"i-dame un minuto." you excused yourself quickly, the door closing back in alexias face before she could even process her thoughts let alone say a single syllable.

"mariposa. i am trying my best here nena! por favor you need to eat real food." you begged, grabbing her under the arms and trying to sit her back down though the moment you touched her she began to thrash and kick and yell.

"posie-" you grunted as her foot dug into your stomach and exhaled shakily trying to keep your head as calm as you could. but when nothing you said or tried worked, and with still finding your comfort ability with discipline, you went for plan b.

giving her what she wanted, rewarding her bad behaviour. but you were a bleeding heart on your worst days and when she started to cry for her mami, you crumbled.

"vale! you can have the muffin posie just stop crying and screaming! and we do not kick and hit people!" you yelled, the girl falling silent for a moment as you exhaled when she rag dolled and went limp in your arms.

but it would seem you let your guard down too soon.

you hissed and almost dropped her as her little teeth sank into the flesh of your hand, grunting in pain and placing her down on the floor where she stomped her foot and her eyes welled back up with tears.

"bebita-" you inhaled sharply and squatted down to her height, lowering the volume of your voice and readying yourself to soothe her.

but it was too late, the damage was done and with another yell that she hated you she took off, little feet thumping against the floorboards and you winced as her door slammed.

and people thought only teenagers did that.

you knew what your sister would do, which was to not even have gotten into this situation in the first place.

mariposa had been a near perfect baby, hardly ever crying, hardly ever throwing a tantrum.

of course there were times she would become grizzly or overtired or upset, but natalia always knew exactly what to do, exactly what to say, she always knew exactly what everyone else needed from her.

but you, you were clueless.

you knew rationally what you should do, go after her and check in on the three year old who'd just locked herself in her room in a fit of emotional turmoil.

but selfishly just needing a minute for yourself you sank to the floor with your forehead pressed against your palms, blocking out everything and everyone for just a brief moment of reprise, a glimpse of delusion that this wasn't your reality now.

if you stopped for just a second you could convince yourself you were simply babysitting.

natalia and her husband were off having some well earned alone time together, a date perhaps they'd have called it because your sister was always telling you that just because you got married not to let the romance or the spontaneity of the relationship die off for a routine.

but you never did get married, you couldn't even handle an engagement. and you weren't babysitting, your sister wasn't away on a date, she was never coming back, and you needed to swallow that pill and stop deluding yourself.

so with a deep inhale through your nose and a shaky exhale from your mouth, you pushed yourself up to your feet and forcing them one in front of the other made your way through the carnage of your apartment and toward posie's room.

thankfully it didn't have a lock, however you struggled to open it, hitting it lightly with your shoulder as something was clearly blocking it.

finally wiggling it open enough for your body to slide through you realized it was your nieces blanket, and your heart broke at the sight of her toys and bedding all flung around the room.

because though you could stop and take a moment and process your thoughts and emotions, the reality was that mariposa was three years old and didn't quite yet that ability.

you supposed it was your responsibility now to provide an environment where she learned, and where you set a good example.

great job you were doing of that so far.

you were drowning and struggling to tread water enough just to keep your head from going under all together.

"oh mi amorcito." you sighed quietly, your stomach twisting with guilt seeing your niece had clearly exhausted herself, slumped down in the corner buried in a small mountain of her softer toys with her favorite teddy clutched in a death grip to her chest, thumb of her other hand jammed in her mouth and passed out asleep.

quickly hurrying to re-make her bed you very gently picked her up, not even breathing as you feared you'd wake her, but she slept on soundly as you carefully tucked her into bed, resisting the urge to just lay down with her and hold her so tightly, and to never let go.

kissing her forehead you brushed her hair out of her face, just staring at her for a moment in adoration.

up close she really looked so much like your sister, her mami.

the downward slope of her little button nose, the dimples in the corner of her mouth where she smiled, the little cowlicks in her fringe.

materialistic objects aside, mariposa was really all that you had left to tether you to natalia. your sister clearly trusted you even if you couldn’t work out for the life of you why, and you knew that even if you couldn’t see her anymore, that she was looking down on you and on her daughter.

and you’d never been so determined in your whole entire life, not to let her down.

with a soft smile you tucked her in a little tighter and slowly backed out of the room, leaving the door just ajar and exhaling a deep breath you’d not even realised you were holding.

then as you stared at the semi destroyed living room, food and toys and parts of the high chair flung all across the room, it clicked.

alexia.

“hijo de puta!” you cursed in realization, hurrying back to the front door and tugging it open, not surprised but maybe just a little disappointed to find not a soul in sight.

then again it has been easily a half hour since you slammed the door in her face, perhaps even more. had she really even been there in the first place?

given the lack of sleep you were currently navigating, delusions and apparitions certainly weren't off the table.

with a sigh and what seemed like the millionth shake of your head just that day, you softly closed and relocked the front door, rubbing your temples to soothe the splitting headache you felt coming on before it had even arrived.

you wanted nothing more than to sleep. to simply curl up into a tiny little ball under the covers, creating a little cocoon just like when you couldn’t have been any older than posie. just holding yourself and sleeping until all of this went away, or perhaps until they invented a time machine.

but you now had responsibilities and needs and a little human that relied on you that were far far more important than any of your own, and you’d be damned if you let a single other bad thing happen to that little girl, or to taint the legacy of your sister which mariposa held in her tiny little fists.

so with a nod and shifting your mindset you set off, picking things up and placing them back where they belonged, trying to create even a false sense of organisation and like you absolutely knew what you were doing.

however you were interrupted before you even had much of a chance to begin, knocks sounding at the door as you had an armful of toys and frowned in confusion.

you prayed to every god you knew that it wasn’t ana with a surprise drop in, but normally off the record she let you know when she was coming.

though having learned how the system worked from your time in law school you knew that if someone found out it would mean a change of caseworker.

and you couldn't afford mistakes like that, you would make this work, you had to.

dropping the armful of toys in the little basket where they normally lived you hurried to the door, flicking the deadbolt off and peering out the little peephole, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at who looked right back at you.

"alexia?" you repeated yet again, the blonde stood back in front of the door with a paper bag tucked under her arm and a tray of two coffees in hand, rubbing the back of her neck with an odd look on her face.

"oye, you uh you seemed like you may need this." the girl smiled awkwardly holding up the trays of coffee and you almost threw up that after all of these years she still remembered how you liked yours.

always iced, two sugars, oat milk.

in a different time there would be a teasing remark on her rosy pink lips about how she never understood no matter the weather it was always an iced coffee, your strange aversion to warm beverages of all kinds forever amusing to her.

you almost lay in wait for her to hold the tray above her head, tap her lips with her free hand and demand a kiss in thanks before she'd hand over the caffeine held hostage.

many a time you'd been far too grumpy and simply tried to tackle it out of her grasp, not in the mood for her games but that usually just resulted in her effortlessly holding you off with a smug little smirk.

or ever so occasionally...the two of you would end up on the floor and doused with coffee, a pause of silence before one of you would crack and laugh, holding your stomachs as you'd just laugh. and laugh, and laugh and laugh, until eventually you'd both roll into one anothers arms, giggling and exchanging words between the meeting of your lips. words which were normally poking fun at your impatience.

you wondered if she had found someone else to laugh with now.

"i-gracias." you exhaled with a slight smile, subtly pinching your hip beneath the fabric of your shirt to make sure you weren't having some sort of sleep deprived manic episode and conjuring her up in your mind.

because subconsciously you don't think she ever left, not really, and it wasn't for a lack of trying to kick her out of your memories and your head on your behalf, that was for certain.

"do you...want to come in?" you winced at how forced it sounded, a flicker of insecurity and doubt in the footballers eyes for a second.

"maybe this was a mistake. lo siento i just saw you and-" alexia struggled to string her words together, cursing inwardly for how tongue tied you still had her.

if the girl was really really honest with herself, you still had her wrapped right around your little finger.

"-and here you are." you finished for her once more, alexias stomach flipping at the soft smile sent her way. "you came all the way here, you brought coffee. please, come in." you spoke a little more sure of yourself this time, opening the door a little more and moving aside.

"you are sure?" alexia questioned, hovering right in the door way. "no, are you?" you rebutted as she opened and closed her mouth before shaking her head and returning your smile, stepping inside.

"i do get dibs on whatever is in that bag though." you joked with another small smile as she placed the coffees down on the kitchen counter and you locked the door again, trying to bait yourself into a false sense of security that this wasn't a terrible idea, and a bizaree one at that.

only as you turned back around you realised the state your apartment was actually still in, the same fog from before having hazed your mind in the presence of your ex.

"oh dios mio. uh just give me a second!" you blushed with embarrassment and rushed around, shoving things away and kicking them into corners, desperately trying to pull the cover back over the hot mess express your life really was.

"no no alexia por favor you do not need to-" you begged as you noticed alexia had grabbed some paper towel and started to clean the table where the remains of posie's lunch had been flung across it.

but a firm look from the older girl stopped you in your tracks and you knew better than to try and argue with her, mumbling a quiet thank you as a silence fell between the pair of you.

it wasn't exactly comfortable, but it certainly wasn't as tense as you'd have thought as you finally put away the last of the things scattered across the living room, well as best as you could anyway.

"lo siento i do not mean to-it has been a day." you admitted with a small sigh, accepting the coffee alexia held out to you as the pair of you took a seat at the table across from one another, purposefully avoiding making any actual eye contact.

"so, how are you?" you broke first, swallowing your mouthful of coffee and stirring it absentmindedly. "bien, y tú?" alexia answered as you nodded. "bien, bien."

"really?" "really?"

at your shared thought you both looked up and blushed as your eyes met, a small smile curling into your lips as you sipped on your coffee. "i mean it has been a long time ale." you admitted as the footballer hummed.

"almost four years."

"look alexia you heard the screaming, and you saw me at the cafe. i am sure you have questions, just ask them." you encouraged, the girl feeling your eyes burn a hole in her forehead.

"she is very cute, the nena." alexia started, still scrambling to try and piece together any logical thoughts as her heartbeat pounded in her ears like a freight train.

"mariposa, but we call her posie." you smiled, glancing behind you to the bedroom where you knew she was soundly asleep. "she is not always that loud either." you attempted to joke, wincing at the painful awkwardness of your delivery.

"is she yours?" alexia blurted out, her mouth and her brain missing a step in which they communicated about what the other was doing, a short bark of laughter leaving your lips at her forwardness.

"no, she's natalia's." you answered and alexia couldn't even begin to describe the odd sense of relief which flooded her body. "oh i did not-the woman you were with, i thought-" alexia's brain finally kicked in at that point and she clamped her mouth shut again.

"you thought?" you tried to coax the rest of the sentence out to her but it would appear under lock and key as alexia shook her head with a polite smile. “nothing, sin importar.”

“you thought she was mine.” you realized a split second later, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. the blush which returned right to the catalans cheeks across the table from you all the confirmation you needed.

"you thought ana-oh no, no no." you shook your head firmly, not missing the ever so slight flash of relief which flickered through alexia's eyes like a lightning strike, there one second and gone the next.

"there is a lot to explain." you sighed, dragging your hands down your face tiredly. "you do not have to, por favor i did not come here to interrogate you." alexia promised, hand starting to just inch toward yours before she stopped herself, immediately shoving it down into her lap with a frown.

"i want to." you pushed a little firmer as you caught your exes eye and she paused before nodding. "where to even start?" you laughed humourlessly, running a hand through your hair and looking off across the room.

"the woman i was with, her name is ana, she is a social worker with child services." you began after a moment. "she is in charge of the...well the investigation, into if i am the best full time carer for mariposa." you continued, alexia listening attentively to your every word.

"natalia-" you squeezed your eyes shut, looking up to the roof and as she suddenly put the pieces together alexia's heart shattered.

"oh. no por favor you do not need to-" "está bien." you quipped shortly as alexia fell silent again and you took a very deep breath.

" they went to the movies, out for dinner, a normal night. i was home for the weekend and i babysat posie, to give them some time together." you continued, swallowing the sob which sat poised and ready to strike.

"they were driving home-" you paused and exhaled shakily, looking back up to the roof as tears brimmed your eyes and you quickly wiped them away.

"there was a man who was very drunk, he was driving, fell asleep at the wheel and swerved into the other lane where a truck was coming." you inhaled sharply as you felt a sharp stab to your side.

"the truck also swerved, lost control and went into the other lane and...and drove right into them. they were both killed on impact." you forced out, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to focus on your breathing.

you weren't sure how long that horrible silence lasted, but alexia didn't even trust herself enough to breathe, worried of what you might think and ignoring every urge she had to climb across the table and take you into her arms.

"when mariposa was born, i was named as not just her tía but also her godmother. natalia's husband, he has no family around. my mami, she is too old and her arthritis is too bad to look after herself let alone a child." you revealed, steadying yourself slightly now as you glanced up and chanced a look to your ex.

"so posie lives with me now. but it is all temporary until we have family court and i can legally adopt her, which is why child services is involved, why i was meeting with ana, why i moved back here. barcelona is all posie has ever known, where natalia....was. i will not rip her away from what little anchors she has just for me. and i will not see her live with strangers. i will not fail her, i will not fail natalia." you whispered, swallowing with a determined nod that alexia matched.

"please do not say you are sorry. i-i have had enough of the pity alexia, of the sympathy. por favor i cannot take any more!" you cut her off before she even began, the apology dying in the older girls mouth as her features softened and she nodded.

another silence fell, suffocating and awkward, as alexia wracked her brain for where to go next, what to say next.

"can i, can i say something?" alexia asked hesitantly as you nodded this time, finger tracing circles against the cool plastic of the coffee cup in your hand.

a habit which had alexia practically feel the ghost of your touch across the back of her hand, the place where your fingers used to absentmindedly touch and poke and trace when you were anxious.

"i know it has been years but, i owe you an apology." alexia swallowed the hardened lump in her throat, nearing the edge of the cliff of her comfort ability, ready to dive headfirst into what was likely going to be a very awkward conversation.

"i should not have pushed you, about the engagement. i should not have left that night. i should have waited, listened, i was selfish. i would like to say i was just young and hurt but...i would be lying if i said i have not regretted it for many many years." alexia forced out, pushing the straw around her cup as her eyes were trained down to the tabletop.

"oh alexia." you sighed out, a pained smile on your face and a storm cloud of emotion brewing behind the surface of your features, only visible through your eyes which alexia looked up and found herself lost in.

"i should have listened to you, heard you out. you do not need to be sorry, you were ready to take that next step and, and well i think i was just scared of what that meant. overwhelmed and nervous, but i should known it only came from a place of love, of your love for me." you admitted, both of you falling quiet as you just stared at one another, the longing look you gave one another maybe saying more than any words could.

"i still love you." oh alexia could have kicked herself in the head at that, the words tumbling out from her lips before she could clamp them shut, the panic which flooded your face having her wish the floor would suddenly swallow her up.

"ale-"

"oh dios mio, lo siento mucho! i just-i just meant i still have love, for you?" alexia tried rapidly to backpedal, but any attempts she made would be just as useful as trying to shove back the toothpaste of her words back into the tiny tiny tube of her mind.

"alexia. i do not think you have ever really left my mind but-" you paused to sigh deeply, sinking down into your chair as you carefully thought out your next words.

"-but my life is a mess right now ale, un desastre. i can barely care for myself, meet my needs. everything i have needs to go to posie and making sure she stays with me and has the best life possible it is the least i can do for natalia and-" you were shocked into silence as a hand reached out, a slender finger wiping the tear which threatened to fall from the corner of your eye, one you hadn't even felt coming but alexia saw long before it appeared.

your skin tingled at her touch and her thumb ever so lightly traced the curve of your jaw before her arm was pulled back and she gave you a small smile and a nod of understanding.

"i know, you do not need to explain yourself to me." alexia promised, still nodding as you found yourself joining her, jolting slightly at the scrape of her chair against the floorboards and you hurried to stand as well.

you watched as her eyes flickered around the room for a moment, landing on the paper bag of pastries which was now likely cold and still untouched.

her head turned again and she grabbed the whiteboard marker off your fridge, tearing off a section of the bag and scribbling something down.

as she moved again your feet followed with a mind of their own to the door where alexia now hovered, fist clenched tightly around the small scrap of brown paper in her palm.

"i know you, and i know that you are struggling with this. and i know that you would rather send yourself under and push mariposa up to float. but there are life rings you can reach out for, help that there is no shame in taking." alexia spoke firmly but not unkindly as you quickly used the back of your hand to wipe away another tear which threatened to fall.

"i will always have love for you. and if you need a friend, i am always here. if you need help, i will always be there. please do not drown yourself for the sake of your pride amor, you need to look after yourself to be able to look after posie, sí?" you found yourself nodding at her words, feeling her slip the piece of paper into your hand from her own.

"so take care of yourself, if not for anyone then for her, and for your hermana. natalia would be so proud of you, no matter what. she chose you, she knew posie would be best in your care. she chose you! you could never let her down." alexia's voice dropped to barely above a whisper as all you could do was nod and within seconds you were melting into her tight embrace.

"please look after yourself, call me if you need me, en cualquier momento." her lips softly kissed your cheek, lingering there for a moment with one final squeeze of your smaller form against hers, and then you blinked, and she was gone.

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

did i say this would only have three parts? yes.

did i lie? …yes.

#alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso community #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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blackbirdsblackberries · 1 month

Text

I Hate The New Hero!

Pt 3: How bad can a day get?

Tim gazes at you. He doesn’t know what to do or feel.

He hates you, he really does, but at the same time he kind of enjoyed the afternoon with you. If you put aside the arguments and such it was kind of fun being in your presence.

He’s conflicted, he should hate you – you’ve done bad things in the past and you hate Aranea! But, hanging out with you gives him some kind of weird feeling – euphoria fills him when you make a sarcastic comment in jest or when you chuckle at one of his jokes.

There were times you both fought but it felt nice to see you come back into the room and not just leave – his parents tended to leave for the whole night if they got into an argument and he’d have to stay in his estate alone.

He watches as you sleep peacefully, you’re in the lower age part of his class – with you being sixteen and he seventeen – yet you look so much more youthful while sleeping, your face isn’t in a scowl or bored look, you look content.

Tim slowly gets up from the bed and looks around the small, cramped room. It's easy for anyone to feel claustrophobic and it feels wrong for someone to live in it who acts like how you usually do.

His attention is drawn to the toy chest in one corner, curiosity fighting with respect to open it. One peak wouldn't hurt and surely you wouldn't find out.

He walks over, one of the floorboards creaking, it was only two steps but felt longer for him. He opens the chest. As he stares down at it's contents he's filled with disappointment.

In the chest there's only diaries, metal and engineering bits and pieces. He guesses he should have expected this, you're a civilian, you wouldn't be hiding anything to begin with.

His eye catches on a childish diary decorated in stickers and press on jewels. Before his mind can register what he's doing he picks it up and turns it over in his hands a couple times, examining it.

The date goes back twelve years. So you'd be about four at the time. There's nothing to hide so he opens it - a sneak peak never hurt anyone.

Diary entry 1:

Today I got this diary from my mama! I can decorate it however I want! Mama said it's my birthday gift, I wanted a stuffed toy but this works too! I don't want to disappoint my mama by saying I don't like it!

My neighbor, Susan, is helping me write this! I love her, she's very old and wrinkly and I think she is going to turn to dust. Which is sad.

Bye now!

The first thing Tim noticed was the messy handwriting. It was endearing in a way to see it. The next was the way you spoke about Susan. It was blunt but it seemed you liked her.

He goes to turn another page when he hears the front door of the apartment open and talking entering the once quiet apartment.

He quickly places the diary where it was before and he packs away everything. He debates putting you into the bed before deciding that you're fine.

He walks out and is immediately met with a plate smashing the wall next to him as a frazzled man stands in the kitchen, cowering almost. Tim puts his hands up slightly to show he's harmless and the man's stiff form eases slightly.

The man raises his hands and signs out a sentence.

"What are you doing in my apartment?"

Tim raises a brow, should he sign back or just talk? After some consideration he decides to sign back.

"Your child and I are partners on a project for school"

The man's eyes darken slightly at the mention of his daughter - or who Tim guesses was his child, they bare some resemblance.

"So my child is a slut like her mother then?"

Tim stares, jaw dropped. No fucking way he just said that. Tim shakes his head.

"No, of course not! We had to do a poster!" He states, he doesn't bother with the sign language, the man didn't seem to be deaf judging by the scar on his throat.

The man points to the door before signing.

"You better go right now before my wife punishes you! As it is my child is in trouble!"

Tim, not wanting to cause a fight or scandal, walks to the door and leaves. He wonders how your father is going to "punish you", clearly you had to have been spoiled by someone to end up so rude - even if you were fun to hang out with for those hours.

Tim gets to the front of the apartment and gets into the car waiting for him. One thought was one his mind however:

Are you as bad as they all assumed you to be?

----

You wake up the next day to your dad and mother standing above you angrily. Not a good way to start the day and you had to sort out your red eyes before people asked if you'd been crying.

Heading to school was as uneventful as Gotham gets and when you get to the front gate you realize your two friends aren't at school today. Great. Your day is the best!

You debate sneaking back home and going on a day patrol, maybe running into Signal, though you hope not. He's nice and all but he along with the other Batman lackeys and Batman himself give you bad vibes, they set off your spider senses and cause you to feel icky when in their presence.

Before you can make a decision you hear your name being called out and Tim walking up to you with a serious expression. You think you're going to barf - now that you think about it, Tim gives you the same reaction Red Robin gives you - a feeling of anger and motion sickness.

Each vigilante gives a different type of icky feeling so it's crazy you haven't noticed Tim giving you the same feeling.

It's not your business though so you won't think about it further.

"Did you bring the poster?" He asks, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks to you in slight annoyance. "Duh. It's in my bag." You respond, rolling your eyes and handing him the poster.

He hums and puts it in his bag and you raise a brow. You won't question why he did it, probably just wanted the credit of handing it in.

With that you head to your first class of the day: Engineering.

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matrixbearer2024 · 6 days

Text

Imagine Ford with baby fever, he isn't really hit with it at the start as you had both just moved to gravity falls at the time. Despite being engaged fresh out of university, he told himself he was going to take his time with you. The both of you were young and ambitious, you both had plenty of time left.

Compared to him, you were pretty touchy and cuddly since coming to gravity falls. Ford supposed it had a lot to do with the engagement, which you were both still running a high from. It was difficult for him to completely focus on his research when you would randomly butt into his mind, his journals would have drawings or entries on you scattered about and you found that adorable.

You were more excited than him to plan your wedding, but Ford was the one more obsessed over it happening at all. He didn't think he would get to this point, much less with someone to have and hold; cherish through joy and sorrow for the rest of his days.

During one of your little expeditions through the forest(you were collecting fungal specimens to study while your lover was doing who knows what-) you both stumbled across a little kid crying in a clearing. The toddler was most likely only a couple years old and wailing for their parents.

Predictably, your fiancé stood there scratching the back of his neck awkwardly not entirely knowing what to do. Even if he was an older brother, it was only by a short while to a twin. So you figured it made sense that he didn't know what he was doing. Even so, Stanford rarely talked about his brother happily- more like somber or spiteful so you rarely brought it up when talking about relatives.

You weren't so fond of your family yourself, born to a house of multiples on multiples of children- your father's plan was to simply marry you off to someone old and wealthy to leech off that. You already knew how that ended up with your sisters and didn't want to fall into the same situation.

So you studied your ass off, but because your old man didn't want to support you through university- you ended up grasping at straws but at Backupsmore where you met the man who promised you forever. Somehow you felt like it was likely a better outcome than even if things went as planned.

Sure, he was kind of an asshole at the start as your academic rival- but you both learned to get along after a while. Acquaintances became friends and that friendship bloomed into romance, the rest is history.

Imagine the adoring look in Ford's eyes when you managed to gently comfort the child and calm them down. Apparently they had wandered too far from a nearby campsite and got lost, it didn't take long for the both of you to return the toddler to their parents and you ended up with a marigold in your hair as thanks.

It was that moment seeing you with the kid in your arms that Stanford's thoughts suddenly crashed to the side with a loud and adamant needwish to have a family with you. Which just as immediately both flustered and terrified him, most of the developments in your relationship with him happen this way. It's kind of as if this man is hilariously allergic to anything new.

Since that day he started being equally as clingy with you. From hugging you from behind as you cooked the both of you breakfast to practically developing a sixth sense to when you pull away from him in your shared bed. Having a living space heater for a partner was great in the cold months, but during the warmer months you sometimes wanted to kick Stanford out of the bed since you were baking from his warmth.

Sometimes he would catch you staring at some baby items when you both went to the store and that just worsened his already crippling yearning. Unintentionally he ended up making more rooms in the cabin than needed, you were surprised by the amount of space, not to mention you and Ford weren't exactly sure at the time what to use the rooms for. Partially you wondered how Ford was able to build the shack in such a way that the inside seemed much larger than the outside.

He went into a full blown infodump about a time-space anomaly on the land that he kind of abused Dr. Who style to actually make the inside of the house bigger than it actually is.

The touchiness festered and grew over the couple months towards the date of your planned wedding to make things official. It wasn't to say that you both haven't ever had sex, but there was something different about the hunger and electric desire that crackled between the both of you building up to that day.

The couple times you joked about having kids with your fiancé had him stuck between looking worried and turned on. Good thing you were both at home since you didn't exactly know what to make of it before he kissed the daylights out of you.

The wedding was small and quaint, neither of you had ever been one to flamboyantly show off anyway so it was just a ceremony to finalize things, you both opted to just remain in gravity falls for your honeymoon as well since it was just more convenient.

It was mostly friends who came to celebrate, the two of you opting not to invite your families given the less than savory situations you had with them. It really was the best day of your lives, you also had the photographer to thank for capturing the memories so well.

Stanford couldn't even keep his hands off you during the party, always having a hand on the small of your back or around your waist. Likewise, you couldn't stop leaning on him or hanging off his arm. Even during Fiddleford's best man speech, you'd met the man back in BMU and to say he and your fiancé/now husband got along like peas in a pod was an understatement.

You were barely listening to whatever was said though, far too entranced in the man who you were married to as he laughed or grew bashful of the things said about him. Stanford almost jumped out of his skin when he saw the intensity of the desire in your eyes, a flame to light fireworks and you were both sure come midnight explosions were sure to set off.

It didn't come as a surprise to anyone that after a couple weeks you were sick as a dog, puking and getting random bouts of dizziness that had Stanford in a panic since he couldn't pinpoint why. A quick trip to the hospital later and then came the news, you weren't poisoned, injured or dying, you were just pregnant!

Ford immediately fainted upon hearing those words, you still have no idea if it was the overwhelming shock or the joy.

#gravity falls #gravity falls stanford #stanford pines #ford #ford pines #gf stanford #gravity falls ford #grunkle ford #gravity falls au #ford x reader #ford x you #gf ford #stanford pines x you #stanford x you #stanford #stanford x reader #stanford pines x reader #FordFamilyAU

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cryptidghostgirl · 8 months

Text

Make You Wish Chapter Three -- A Reunion

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Previous Part: Chapter Two -- Where Is She

Warnings: Another pretty tame chapter ngl. Mild mention of murder I guess??

Word Count: 1,195

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Make You Wish Master List

A/N just a reminder that my requests are open :)

"Blitzo, can't you just deal with whatever it is on your own?" Y/n groaned, rubbing her temples in irritation as she stepped out of the office, "I swear to god, if this is some joke? I'm gonna kill you."

There was the quiet, indiscernible drone of the TV. Other than that, the room was silent. Y/n looked up, her eyes falling on the wall beside the office's door and the people who stood before it.

Moxxie, Millie, and Blitzo in a quiet, tense line. She raised her eyebrows, nearly smiled.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Blitzo uncharacteristically said nothing, simply raising his hand and pointing to the entry way. Y/n's eyes narrowed, her muscles tensed and ready for a fight as she followed the path indicated by his gesture. The hand on the knife at her side fell slack as her gaze landed on an achingly familiar face.

"Holy shit." she mumbled, her mouth falling open a little.

"Yeah, uh, he's been asking for you?" Moxxie nervously explained, "You didn't... I mean, he's the Radio Demon. He hasn't been seen in years, you didn't fuck with him... did you?"

Y/n felt tears press behind her eyes again as she took a tentative step forwards. Then another one. Slowly, she crossed the room to the taller demon who just stood there with a smile, watching her all the while with his arms folded behind his back. Y/n peered up at him, her eyes narrowed as they met his own.

The one person in the whole world she'd been practically dying to see. There was a pain, he was the cause and the cure of it. Hesitantly, she raised a hand and poked his nose.

"Shit." Blitzo muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly as Millie let out a subtle gasp.

"Are you done?" Alastor asked, his voice crackling with irritation as he looked down at Y/n, whose arms were now crossed over her chest.

"I had to make sure you weren't a dream." she shrugged, turning her head away, "Mox was right, you've been gone seven years."

"Are you mad?" he teased, leaning down towards her ear.

Y/n rolled her eyes, turning to face him once again. She scowled at the man for a moment before a smile broke out across her face.

"I never could stay mad at you." she admitted, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I..." Moxxie trailed off in confusion.

Alastor slowly wrapped his arms around Y/n's waist.

"Mills, start planning a funeral." Blitzo scoffed.

Before any of the trio could say another word, he had lifted her off her feet and was spinning her in the air.

"Al!" Y/n shrieked through her laughter, "Stop it! You'll mess up my hair!"

He set her down again and the pair released each other.

"You menace." Y/n shook her head, still laughing, "It's like you knew I was thinking of you."

"You were, were you?" he teased, leaning down to her level.

"Y/n, do you know the Radio Demon?" Millie interrupted, taking a step forward.

Both Alastor and Y/n turned to face her.

"What, this old freak?" she asked, elbowing him gently.

"I resent that." Alastor hummed and Y/n laughed again, her joy unbridaled.

"Yeah, we're friends." Y/n confirmed, catching the genuine concern in her friend's eyes, "Known each other for about as long as I've been down here."

Alastor nodded as Y/n looked back up at him.

"Speaking of the old days," he hummed, looking her up and down, "what's this new look you've got?"

"Huh?" Y/n looked down at her clothes before turning and meeting his eyes once again, "Oh, I'm an assassin now."

"No no no, my dear." he shook his head, "This simply wont do. I can't have you wandering around looking like some ragamuffin."

Alastor snapped his fingers and Y/n looked down to see she was wearing a dress now. She almost yelled at him, almost tore him a new one and called him a dick. Then she realized what dress it was she was wearing. Y/n looked up at Alastor with wide eyes.

"This is..."

"The dress you murdered your husband in, yes."

Y/n squealed, throwing her arms around Alastor's neck and pulling him in for another tight hug that he reluctantly accepted. Letting him go, she spun around, watching the way the skit splayed out from her legs.

"You remembered! Oh, Alastor! Thank you."

"The fuck." Blitzo muttered to himself, watching the scene playing out before him.

Y/n beamed up at him as Alastor raised a claw, looping it through the circle on the collar Y/n still wore. All of her other accessories and clothing had vanished, as he had intended, except for this. He hummed thoughtfully and Y/n's cheeks grew hot with shame. She looked away.

"What's this then?" he asked, letting the ring fall from his finger.

It hit the leather of the collar with a quiet thud.

"Look, I... made some bad choices." Y/n sighed, refusing to meet his eyes, "A physical sign of a very real metaphysical decision I had to make."

"Quite possessive, to cast a spell like that." Alastor mused, "You always had a thing for that though, didn't you."

Y/n raised her arms, wrapping them tightly around her body at the harsh remark. She made to move away from him but, as she did, Alastor grabbed Y/n's chin, forcing her to look at him. He watched her expression carefully.

"You could have come to me. You know I would have taken that delectable little soul off your hands in a moment."

"Yeah well, you weren't here." Y/n firmly stated, taking a step back so he no longer held her, "I did what I had to do to survive."

Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"And who exactly did you make this... bad decision with?"

"Al, can we please talk about this later?"

"They don't know, do they."

"They do." Y/n insisted, "I just... please, not now."

"Fine." Alastor relented after a moment.

The pair fell silent, Alastor's critical gaze interlocked with Y/n's indignant one.

"Sooo," Blitzo began, breaking the awkward silence and drawing the attention of the room off the pair and onto him as he took a step forward, coming to a stop beside Millie, "you two fucking?"

"Jesus, Sir!?" Moxxie exclaimed in shock.

"You can't be serious, right?" Y/n laughed in surprise, "No, Blitzo, we're not fucking. The day Alastor has a sex drive is the day Heaven is overrun by... I don't know, giant killer bees?"

"It's more likely than you think, dear."

"What's that-"

Alastor cut her off mid sentence, placing a hand over her mouth as he caught the images flashing across the TV on the other side of the room.

"Hey, rude." Y/n scoffed, pulling herself from his grip.

Alastor ignored her. With a flick of his finger, he raised the volume on the TV. At the sight of his narrowed eyes and tight smile, Y/n turned to see what exactly was bothering him so much.

----

Next Chapter --> Chapter Four -- Vox

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suguann · 6 months

Text

He’s not sure when it happened—no warning with bright neon signs to prepare him.

All of it sort of creeps up on him before he ever really has a chance to reign it in. It’s to the point where he can no longer ignore the ache in the space behind his ribcage while tucking into dark corners in another country with thoughts of you to keep him company, hoping to make it another day just to see you again—and it fucking terrifies him.

(In some ways, more than being on the receiving end of a bullet.)

He’s memorized far more than he ever expected about one person. The crinkle of your eyes with a laugh, the shape of your mouth around a lemon ice lolly. The way you bite your lip when you catch him staring.

He memorizes the things you tell him when it’s just you and him in the quiet of your flat. He knows you don’t want to be a bartender for the rest of your life. He knows you applied for university in the fall. He knows your hang-ups with relationships—he has his, too—but you’d like to settle down somewhere quiet with a family of your own someday.

(After a lot of soul-searching, he thinks he might want that, too.)

The list is endless. You like to talk, and Simon learns he doesn’t mind listening.

While you help him stuff his bags into the backseat of your tiny car, he makes the off-hand comment, “When are you going to let me get you something that won’t tip with a gust of wind?”

“If you were my boyfriend, maybe I’d let you.”

You look up at him in a way you haven’t before. Scared and hopeful. Like you’re getting ready to lay down all your cards for him to choose the best hand (probably all of them, whichever makes you his first). He’s never had anyone look at him like that.

A small part of him can’t shake the sense that it’s too soon, that your friendship is all he has during his time home, and he drunkenly sulks at the pub with Johnny one night.

Simon rolls his beer bottle—now lukewarm—between his hands. “There’s no way she likes me like that.”

“Just tell her how you feel.” Johnny slaps a hand on his shoulder. “What’s the worst that can happen? She tells you to fuck off but still wants to be friends?”

Simon wants to say, “Yes, mate, exactly that,” instead, he finds himself nervously running his hands through his hair outside your apartment door thirty minutes later. It’s only after he knocks that he realizes you might not be awake or how horrible this idea was because he’s not sure how to tell you that life before you came around, was grey utilitarian and a fridge full of take-out cartons—

“Simon?” You prop the door against your hip, sleepily blinking at him. “Is everything okay?”

His eyes trail over his old Nirvana shirt he let you borrow all those months ago and never got back, down to your cute pink painted toes curling into your entry rug, and back up to your soft doe eyes burning into him.

“Are you drunk?”

“No, I—No.”’ Not anymore. All of the pent-up anxiety from the time it took to walk from the bar to your place sobered him up, but another beer would be nice right now.

“Do you want me to call Johnny—”

Then he just comes out with it. “I’m in love with you.”

It’s not his finest moment.

He expects you to laugh it off and tell him ‘nice one’ like you usually do when he makes stupid jokes or awkwardly gives him the we’re-just-friends rundown right there in your entryway. Nothing prepares him for when you drag him into your apartment, telling him between needy, quick presses of your lips that you’ve loved him for a while now.

“I’m surprised you couldn’t tell.” You say it like he’s the last one to know, and maybe he is.

Christ, he has you pressed up your front door for all of your neighbors to see. And you love him.

You fucking love him?

It’s difficult to wrap his head around, especially when his other head steals all of the blood he needs to think straight by eagerly pressing against his zip, or maybe he’s still a little more drunk than he thought.

Simon never thought he’d get to find out how you taste or how you look sprawled out underneath him with your soft thighs pressed against his chest and your eyes knocked back as he slowly splits you open, carving a piece of himself there—your wet, tight cunt making his jaw fall slack.

His cock jerks at the sight of your pussy lips spread wide and taught around him, your little hole contracting, struggling to make him fit. No one has ever taken him all the way the first time, yet here you are, trying to hump up against him to bring him deeper—as if there’s anywhere else inside you for him to go.

“There is, there is, there is,” you gasp, trying to prove him wrong.

And when he glances up to see the cute face you make once the last inch of his cock nudges its way inside, his name dripping from the tip of your tongue like a little prayer for him to think about in great detail later, he wonders why he waited so long.

“Christ—love, fuck—you’re so pretty,” he groans, falling on top of you and pinning you to the bed, fingers pressing into your cheeks to make you look at him, to make you understand. “This is mine now.”

(Not that you argue with him.)

It’s what comes after that’s his favorite part, your head on his chest, his fingers in your hair, leaving slow kisses against your temple while you whisper sweet nothings into his throat—I love you, too; I don’t think I said it, but I want you to hear it—maybe the right words won’t be so hard to find in the morning when he sees you laying there beside him.

I know I posted this a few days ago, but I took it down because I wanted to add to it:3

#simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod smut #cod fic #cod imagine #cod x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #ghost smut #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #mw2 imagine #.things i write

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upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Text

Remus Lupin x fem!reader requested by anon 18+

The night after a full moon always came with consequences.

They were bruise shaped. Violet and lavender and seafoam green, littered across skin like an unwanted reminder. Scratches that would fade to new silver scars and aches and pains deep in his bones that made Remus feel sixty eight, not twenty eight.

It was the only time he’d soak in the tub instead of taking a shower, something he’d usually deem much more proficient. But a new night came round and the threat of the moon was no longer in the sky. It made the air feel lighter and the feeling of sinking into the hot water, honey scented and filled to the brim, was overwhelmingly good.

It was even better when you slipped in too.

Without speaking, you stood in the doorframe to the bathroom you shared with your boyfriend, overgrown plants on the window sill, steam and condensation making the tiles on the walls glitter. Remus peered at you from under his lashes, strong arms braced on each side of the old claw foot tub, head resting against the porcelain.

You raised a brow at him, a question. You touched the hem of his shirt you’d thrown on, bare legs underneath. An offer.

Almost immediately, Remus nodded, sitting up and playing the water lap at the sides, the only sound in the room as you walked in, taking off your shirt as you went. The plaid joined Remus’ clothes on the tiles and you hissed on entry, scalding water licking at your calves as Remus watched your bare figure, eyes sleepy but intent on catching each curve before they disappeared under the bubbles.

You hummed as the boy reached for you, not trying to hide his need as he coaxed you onto his lap. The tub was just big enough for you to settle your thighs on the outside of his, your arms winding around his neck as you let your bare chest press against his.

Another soft noise from your lips as Remus nosed at your cheek, an overwhelmingly affectionate thing that made your heartbeat a little faster. You smiled, turning so he could kiss your jaw, your chin. You dipped your head before he could catch your lips, brushing your lips over the fresh bruise that marred his cheekbone, the scratch on his shoulder you cleaned the night before.

Your boy was bloodied and beaten, but he looked as pretty as ever.

“Lemme kiss you,” Remus complained without any heat, his wet palm coming to cup your chin. “Babe.”

Your nose brushed his, gentle with him like you always were after a rough transformation. Any transformation, really. “Your poor lip,” you reminded him softly. The split in his bottom lip hadn’t stopped bleeding, still reddened when he woke up that morning, causing him grief as he tried to sip his coffee. “I’ll hurt you.”

Remus shook his head. “No, no you won’t.” His hands dropped to your waist, squeezing. He rocked his hips as well as he could under the water, in the small space. But it was enough to let you feel how hard he was, hot skin against yours, the slide and fizz of the bubbles between you. “Need you, y’know.”

You nodded, water clinging to your lashes where Remus had drawn a line across your brow, touch sweeping down the apple of your cheek, the slope of your jaw. He kissed each part, every bit of him warm, lips included. “I know,” you told him.

So you rose onto your knees, one hand on Remus’ shoulders so you could steady yourself and the boy made soft gasping noises as you lined his cock up between your thighs, the head of him pressed to your cunt. You didn’t ask for his fingers first, none of the teasing he’d normally insist on before you took all of him. You wanted that stretch, the tight, hot burn of it. A little bit of pain clashed with the pleasure and you groaned as you sunk down, your noise levelling out to nothing, lips parted as you watched Remus fill you up.

His hands were still on your hips, tighter than ever as he tried to keep himself together, head falling back to the rim of the tub, fighting to keep his eyes open. His thumbs were pushing circles into the soft of your tummy, his jaw clenching before his mouth dropped open in a punch out breath.

When you were finally seated back on his lap, his cock snug inside of you, you swept a damp hand over his hair, pushing back the mess of curls so you could see his eyes. Full of adoration, an astounding amount of love that made you ache.

“Yeah?” You asked him. You weren’t sure what the question was, but Remus seemed to understand, because he swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

The water sloshed around you when you moved, lifting slightly onto your knees again, only just, before you sank back down. Small waves on the side of the bathtub, water rippling around you both that would surely end up on the floor but you didn’t care. Remus let out a groan as you rode him, each movement slow and deliberate and you could feel every inch, every ridge of his cock. It made you teary, how full you felt and maybe Remus could sense it, ‘cause he sat forward and gathered you in his arms, ignoring the throb from each bruise.

If he had you, it was fine. It was bearable. More than bearable.

“You’re so good to me,” he whispered, ducking his head to mouth at your chest, tongue finding a nipple so he could lick broad stripes over it. “You’re so fucking perfect, sweetheart.”

On a normal day, you’d protest, bashful and hot in the cheeks. But you could only whine as Remus dropped his hands to your ass and squeezed, coaxing you to rock yourself over him. Water and bubbles spilled over the edge of the bath, but neither of you cared. The boy moaned into your neck, sucked bruises onto your skin that would match his, pulling at your ass cheeks until his wandering fingertips could feel where he was slipping in and out of you, the pink, wet parts of you that was stretched tightly around him. It made his hips stutter, it made him sink his teeth into the slope of your shoulder.

“M’not gonna last,” he admitted, his energy was already gone. He’d hardly slept. But this? He needed this. “M’sorry, fuck, you feel so good, sweetheart.”

You nodded, hands running over his hair, his neck, his jaw, holding him there so you could kiss him as gently as possible. You whispered, voice soft, “s’okay, handsome. Come for me, yeah? Come inside me, okay? Want to feel you.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin smut #remus lupin x reader smut #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin blurb #the marauders #remus baby blurb

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soapy-birblover · 4 months

Text

nah but I can’t stop thinking about their early days. Charles accompanying Edwin as he combs through records of old newspapers, only to find a short entry on the outcome of the case of his death. “Act of God.” The face Edwin might have made, the look Charles would give him, but no questions, it’s too soon for that. He might look into death records, to find his parents; when and where and how.

Would Charles attend his own funeral, to see who shows up? Edwin would be there with him, I think. Politely standing behind him, for after all, this is the funeral of a boy he’s only just getting to know. When Charles’ father gives a speech, is then when his jaw would tighten, and he would tell Edwin that he “wasn’t a nice man”?

Where would they wander, these ghosts? Did they find the attic for their agency immediately, or did they roam the streets of London, finding abandoned spots to rest in? They don’t need to sleep, after all. I think Charles would have tried his darnedest to. Edwin might be restless, after years spent in hell. Charles would be able to get him to fully unwind after 70 years of running. Edwin would state that his time in hell was a mistake, a technicality, but he wouldn’t elaborate. Not yet. And Charles would be fine with that.

I can imagine Charles trying and failing to catch Edwin up on 70 years of history. He wouldn’t be able to answer all of Edwin’s specific and detailed questions about why or who or exactly what happened next. Edwin would go to a library to figure it out himself, and Charles would go along too, because that’s what they do now. Wherever one wanders, the other goes.

They would eventually open up, their banter transitioning from the mundane to more personal, about their deaths and about their lives. They would establish and build the agency, and help hundreds of ghosts move on.

But in those early days, neither of them had a clue what they were doing, except that they wanted to do it together, with this stranger who was quickly becoming familiar. It would have felt both fragile and stable, as if their friendship could end in a matter of days or last forever. They were each other’s last bit of uncertainty in a world which otherwise looked unchanging, with their bodies frozen in time and the lack of stakes that comes with already being dead.

You could say they became each others’ unfinished business.

#DISCLAIMER I haven’t read the comics so apologies bcus this was maybe covered in them idk #dbda #payneland #edwin payne #charles rowland #dead boy detectives netflix #writing drabble

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bleedingoptimism · 1 year

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𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚

part 1

“You look pale,” Jeff comments making Eddie snort loudly.

Of course he looks pale, he’s got vampirism, doesn't he? But then again, so does Jeff and he looks great.

“When was the last time you fed?” He asks.

Eddie sighs heavily trying to reign in his bad mood. He knows Jeff’s just worried and wants to help, and he’s grateful to have run into an old friend from high school as soon as he moved into the big city.

Because he’d be utterly lost without him.

He doesn't know where anything is, he gets lost in the subway, and he has no idea when he’s being charged too much for a muffin or suspiciously too little for a hotdog, or where all the blood markets are.

“Like, two weeks ago,” Eddie finally answers.

Jeff looks surprised but it’s not actually that bad, people with vampirism can go up to 4 to 5 weeks without blood.

It’s not the same as those vampires from movies and books, they still eat food and they can stand in the sun with just minor cases of sunburn. There’s also the light sensitivity, making them all look like assholes wearing sunglasses everywhere.

Also, they are not allergic to garlic. Which, thank the heavens because Eddie loves garlic, a lot.

There’re a couple of side effects that do come in handy sometimes, like augmented hearing and smell. And the healing spit is super weird but nifty. No super strength regrettably, that would’ve been awesome.

Anyways, it’s like they have super anemia or something.

“I went to a blood bar, hooked up with some dude but. I didn't have a good time, at all. I kind of don't want to go back to bars for a while,” He elaborates and when Jeff frowns worried, he shakes his head,

“No, not like that. It’s just… the dude was like way too into it, you know? It kinda freaked me out.”

“What do you mean? Don't you find it hot? When you feed?” Jeff asks him, curious.

Eddie nods quickly, “Yes, of course I do! It can be really sexy with the right person, but this guy, he was like- like way too loud and like, he was faking it? I don’t for who, though. And halfway through it, I started getting worried I’d accidentally hired someone instead of just hooked up and I didn’t have any money, and then I started thinking about money and my dick-”

“Ok! Ok, I get it.” Jeff thankfully interrupts him. “Dude, why didn’t you say something, I know of a place. I didn’t mention it before because it’s kind of boujee and handles itself a little differently.”

“Oh? Do tell” Eddie tells him excitedly, he loves going to new places, especially if they are weird.

“Well, it’s real private, like ‘can’t get in unless you are on the list’ private. And it’s run by this girl. Blonde little thing, super cute. Scary as fuck. Everyone calls her ‘The Boss’” he says doing air quotes.

“Dramatic, I like it.” Eddie smiles.

Jeff chuckles, “So the gist of it it’s you go there and just hang out normally, like any other kind of bar. The place is beautiful, the music is good, and the drinks are delicious. But what's interesting about this place is the hostesses,” he says and even does a little pause for effect before continuing, “Similar to a blood bar there’re people there willing to be fed on but what’s cool about it is they get to choose.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “That sounds kind of fun, actually.”

“Right? And it feels, safer somehow? For them?” Jeff agrees and Eddie nods and smiles at him, waiting for him to keep going.

“Anyway, the hostesses choose and then you get to go upstairs and talk through what you want to happen, just feeding, sex, talking, anything they agree to, it's on the table. I once ended up just playing a game of Uno with the girl I fed on and two other hostesses that hadn't picked anyone that night.” he finishes and Eddie laughs delightedly.

“Ok, this place sounds amazing, what’s the catch?”

“Well, you have to pay an entry fee, the drinks are expensive and there’s always the possibility you’ll leave empty-handed. The first time is free though,” Jeff says.

“Like drugs,” Eddie replies and Jeff nods solemnly,

“You know the hostesses can be kind of addicting.”

…

That night, on the way there, Jeff tells him they have to sign a guest list at the entrance,

“No one uses their real name, not because the place is shady or anything! But because they want to leave that choice to us and the hostesses if you ever get too close with one. It's not like, frowned upon.”

Eddie nods listening intently, he feels kind of nervous in a way he hasn't in a while, but he’s not sure why.

“Also, secret nicknames are fun! I’m known as Jay there. So please don’t dox me. Or yourself.” Jeff tells him.

After careful consideration, Eddie smiles and says, “I’ll be… Strider”

“Nerd”

“Shut up, you are just jealous you didn't come up with it yourself”

Jeff laughs, “You got me there,” he says, and then, “We are here” and he opens a big glass windowed door and vows to Eddie, inviting him in.

Eddie chuckles and enters and immediately almost runs into someone—a tall, massive guy with short curly hair and the shadow of a beard.

“Hey freak,” Jeff greets calmly, “He’s with me,”

Eddie cringes at the nickname, bad memories from high school bullying. But the dude just nods and gives Jeff the tiniest of smiles, so he figures it’s the nickname the bouncer chose for himself.

They enter and sign their name in the guest book, a girl about their age with dirty blond hair and hundreds of freckles on her nose and cheeks is there and she asks Eddie a couple of questions. Not in a weird way, but in a ‘you are new and I’m curious’ kind of way.

Eddie feels comfortable and excited as they go in.

Jeff was right, the place is beautiful. The lobby leads to a big room with high ceilings and fake candle-lit lamps. The chairs and tables are antiques and all different but roughly the same time period so they look good together. There’re old signs and posters from all kinds of drinks and different products adorning the walls. And the music is instrumental and oldie too, sounds like probably 40s or 50s.

It is incredibly boujee. But in a fun way, cozy and warm.

They get a seat at a small round table in a corner and Jeff lets Eddie look around for a while before asking,

“So? Weird right? It’s like stepping into another time,”

Eddie snorts, “Yeah, one that has no idea which time period it wants to repre- who is that?”

Jeff looks at where Eddie is looking and sighs, “Of course you noticed Sunshine,”

“Sunshine?” Eddie sighs.

“That’s what they call him. Because apparently he smells like flowers and summer and tastes like orgasms or something,” Jeff says amused rolling his eyes.

The guy, Sunshine, is probably the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life, definitely the most beautiful man in this room. His face is a contradiction of sharp and round angles that is just absolutely perfect, and he’s wearing a black suit that clings to his body like a second skin, showing off his big shoulders and his tiny waist. He’s looking around the room with big, brown eyes that look bored as he leans against a wall like he’s above it all, he’s a fucking dream.

Eddie swallows audibly and looks smirking at Jeff for a second before his eyes drift back to the man, “Tastes like what, you said” he teases and Jeff snorts.

“Not that anyone would know, as far as I know, he’s never taken anyone upstairs,” he tells Eddie in a conspiratory tone.

That makes him incredibly curious, “Really? Why is he still here then?”

“I don’t know for sure, mostly rumors but he’s the boss’s favorite, that’s for sure. Oh!” Jeff exclaims and then nods his head to a girl sitting on the other side of the room, in a big fancy-looking chair that looks more like a throne than a simple piece of furniture.

She’s got blonde hair up in a ponytail and she’s wearing a flowery dress but there's something about the way she looks around the room, something about the way people walk around her and look at her, with respect or fear, or maybe both. She’s fucking intimidating.

While Eddie’s looking, the girl from the front desk, with the freckles, comes to sit on a small stool beside the “throne”, there’s another one on the other side that’s empty. The blonde girl moves her hand towards freckles and she kisses it and then her shoulder and smiles as she leans in closer and starts whispering to her.

It’s kind of surreal.

“That’s The Boss, and the girl from the entrance, that’s Sparrow. She’s her girl.” Jeff explains.

“Respect for looking scary in a sundress,” Eddie comments.

And Jeff nods, “Anyways my theory is, Sunshine is actually just a bodyguard and not a hostess but the people that come here like to think they actually have a chance with him, so no one says anything to the contrary.”

Eddie snorts and nods, it makes sense. It's actually very good marketing, just like the ‘the first one is free’ thing. That boss girl is really smart with her business.

Jeff and he get a few drinks and they chat calmly, Jeff isn't looking to go upstairs tonight, he only came by to accompany Eddie and Eddie knows he should be looking around, trying to make eye contact with someone, but he can stop staring at Sunshine.

He even looked at their table at one point, and Eddie thought he was going to faint. He was scanning the room as he apparently does every couple of minutes when he caught Jeff’s eye and Jeff lifted his hand in greeting.

And Sunshine’s face completely transformed, his bored calculating expression changed into a beautiful smile that made his eyes shine. He wiggled his fingers at Jeff cutely before going back to looking like fucking Droopy Dog. If Droopy was the sexiest motherfucker alive. It was amazing to see.

Eddie’s jaw almost hit the table and he turned to look at Jeff stunned and he just shrugged,

“Sunshine was one of the hostesses I ended up playing Uno with. He’s fucking vicious,” he says smiling at the memory.

Eddie chuckles as his eyes follow Sunshine moving across the room, he just can't. Stop. Looking.

But the thing is, Sunshine is looking back now. Keeping eye contact with him obviously and unashamed. It’s thrilling and it makes shivers run down his spine.

He watches as Sunshine sits on the stool on the other side of The Boss’s throne and grabs her hand and holds it, intertwining their fingers.

The Boss and her girl turn and look at him and the three of them start whispering, looking at him.

“Dude,” he says and turns to Jeff to see if he’s seeing what he’s seeing.

Jeff looks from him to the whispering party, “Un fucking believable, first time here and tonight is the night Sunshine is taking someone upstairs” he says looking fed up, but clearly in a joking manner.

“Is that what you think it’s happening? No way,” Eddie shakes his head as Sparrow says something that makes The Boss chuckle but Sunshine speaks up and she sobers up immediately. Curious.

“He’s looking right at you, he probably went to ask Sparrow about you,” Jeff insists.

“Maybe he’s looking at you”

“He’s seen me before,” Jeff scoffs.

He’s about to reply but their conversation gets interrupted by someone shily clearing their throat. A girl, a hostess, is looking at him with curious eyes, and shit… she’s cute and looks like a nice person but, Eddie can’t- he needs to know what those looks from Sunshine meant.

He needs him.

He looks back at the group quickly to see Sunshine and The Boss in deep conversation and Sparrow… is she glaring at him?

He rejects the girl, as nicely as possible and Jeff scoffs and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ under his breath again as Eddie turns to look back at Sunshine.

Who is walking toward them, holy shit.

“Holy shit,” Jeff says and then moves to stand. Eddie grabs his wrist and tries to pull him back.

“Wait what are you doing, dont-” But Jeff frees himself and starts walking away,

“Good luck!” He sings songs and then leaves him alone.

part 1: you are here

part 2: 👄

part 3: 🩸

bonus content: ☀️

ao3: 🌙

art: 🦇

coffee?☕🥐💕

#stranger things #steddie #vampire eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something

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risuola · 4 months

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ENTRY #12 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // In a room full of other people, blindly I'd find you.

contents: arranged marriage!au, jealousy (duh!) — wc. 1463

a/n: little experiment, let's see how it goes. please let me know what do you think of this chapter! also, we're getting closer to the nsfw entry, i hope you guys are as excited as i am!!

series masterlist

“You are breathtaking. I did not deserve an honor of your presence.”

Satoru hates it.

“The pleasure is mine,” you reply, a sweet smile adorning your face in a way that makes your husband narrow his eyes. A hand dances along your spine, caressing the bare skin that you decided to expose in a dress with a low cut on the back. You are breathtaking. You are a sight that should cost money to be looked at, you are stealing the show, like a magnet attracting both men and women around the wide ballroom.

He hates it so much.

You seem polite, overly so and accepting too — a little too much for Gojo’s liking. You move along the man — not him — with grace, with fluidity and the long layer of smooth fabric dances around your legs. The dress you wear makes him salivate, it makes him think thoughts that are ungodly, that are unallowed. Silk that wraps around your body in an expensive, luxurious embrace causes Satoru to curse himself for buying that very dress for you few days before. It is beautiful, tailored to your shapes and edges. It’s soft, but with enough body to flow gracefully along your movements. It hugs your chest and loosens up below your hips, it’s a dream, you are a dream.

But you are dancing with someone else.

It’s a job unlike the others. An order from higher ups required you and him to attend a ball — an event as fancy as it can get because there has been a rumor that said the circles of people, filthy and rich, were contracting curse users for entertainment, causing chaos and harm. It would be easy to just get all of them, interrogate, torture, but this time the means are different. This time, it’s you who plays the main role, swiftly engaging with influential men and pulling their tongues until they slip.

It was easy.

Men there were dogs and a sight of a woman — as beautiful as you — laced with a silent promise is enough to make them spill their secrets. They were eating from your hands, wrapping themselves around your pinkie, voluntarily telling you more than you asked. Easy.

But Satoru hates it.

He’s there with you, your plus one, your partner and an entry card for a party as luxurious as it is. You didn’t know how he got the invitation, but the sight of it didn’t surprise you. He is rich, he is Gojo, you are Gojo.

And you are annoyed.

You don’t like the job. You got what you wanted, it was a child’s play but then, you hate how good your husband looks. You hate how other women are looking at him, ogling him, undressing him, eating him alive. The lady that clings to him — onto him — seems too old, too eager. Her greedy hands cannot settle for one place, wandering over Satoru’s broad shoulders, his chest hidden beneath a crisp, white shirt, his sides. The obnoxiously manicured fingers are dragging themselves across his body, examining, exploring, consuming. They are underneath his suit jacket; they are in his hair and near his face and you wish to break them one by one.

Satoru is smiling, working his features into a sight of an angel, using his eyes to hypnotize, whispering sweet little nothings and promising more than he’s willing to give, just to get what he wants in exchange. He has it easy, you think. Your husband is blessed with not only strength but also looks, unfairly, but god do seem to have favorites.

He catches you looking. You catch him looking. A silent communication that makes it through the distance of the ballroom, and then you’re focused on the man beside you again. Suddenly aware of hands that roam your curves, of traces of unwanted heat that his fingertips are leaving at their wake, a breath against your neck. An invitation that whispered right to your ear causes you to flinch involuntarily and a shiver that runs down your spine makes you take a step back.

“Excuse me,” you smile, a fake gesture wrapped in fake politeness. Your hands press against his chest and his own slip over the silk of your dress. He lets go of you, nearly, and you’re close to leaving when you feel his fingers digging into the soft flesh above your hipbones. The entire front of your torso hits the hard chest, knocking the air of your lungs for a split of a second.

“Don’t leave me yet, darling,” he murmurs, his mouth brushing against your earlobe. There’s a shift in his tone, the sweet and flirty undertones are suddenly much darker, greedier. His grip grows harsh against your skin, forcefully intimate.

“Oh, it’s time for me,” you say, a smirk tugging at your lips. With a corner of your eye, you notice Satoru getting closer, but you have no intention of waiting for him to save you like you’re a damsel in distress. “Let go,” you warn, sneaking one of your hands underneath the suit jacket of the man. Swiftly you move it to the top of his shoulder, a little more to his back and you squeeze, digging your fingers harshly into the one, very sensitive spot right above his shoulder blade. The vulnerable muscle tense underneath your assault and the man winces, cursing under his breath and calling you names that are far from elegant. “Hands off. Or you’ll say goodbye to your right hand and I bet you need it.”

He growls, like an animal under attack, hisses almost and you smile in victory when his hold on you falters, allowing you to step back. You smooth your dress, fix the straps on your shoulders, and blow a strand of hair from your eyes before Satoru reaches you, effectively cutting short any attempts of biting back that the man could have had.

“Anything you wish to say?” He asks, narrowing his eyes, lowering his tone. It’s cold enough to make you shiver, scary almost, and inside it makes you giddy. He is so very jealous it’s written all over his face and yet, you’re certain, he would never admit it even if burned and tortured. “No? I thought so.” He closes the conversation before it begins, cuts the discussion short and turns to you.

“Hello, handsome,” you greet him, suddenly possessive and it surprises you as much as it does surprise him, because a short oh slips through his lips when you reach up to lock your fingers together at the nape of his neck.

“Hello to you too, beautiful,” he replies, the words foreign on his tongue but feeling so right and then, his hands follow the curves of your hips and waist until he finds the spot to rest one of them — the other moves further, circling behind you and planting itself on your bare back. The touch burns your skin, sending waves and waves of heat throughout your entire system and to your face.

You feel the eyes on you, much more threatening than before. The stares of women present around you are drilling holes in your body and if they could kill, you’d lay cold already.

“I’ve never seen you jealous,” Satoru purrs against your lips right after you pull him down, pressing a kiss to his mouth — possessive, proving, claiming.

“Goes both ways,” you tease and he rolls his eyes, but drops his head lower, sucking a spot on the side of your neck. A mark to show everyone that you belong to him, a signature etched onto your delicate skin, a bite of nothing but unspoken love.

“I’m not jealous,” he protests, just for the sake of it because he knows it’s false just as well as you know it. His voice vibrates against your flesh and his breath tickles you, his eyelashes do too.

Satoru inhales, filling his lungs with the subtle scent of your skin and perfume, the one with sweet vanilla undertone that he likes so much on you. It suits you, makes you seem delicious, makes him want to taste you. It calms him — your presence — it makes him relax underneath the sturdy hold of your hands. It teases him. The way your thumbs are brushing against the very sensitive spots on his nape, it makes him want to whimper and so, he pulls you closer, flush to himself, hungry for your touch and presence.

“We should leave this place,” you murmur quietly, running the tips of your fingernails across his scalp, sending shivers that run down his spine.

“Yeah,” he inhales again, bracing himself to leave the comfortable spot in the between your shoulder and neck, and before you know it, he’s pulling your hand, pulling you somewhere only he knows.

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