#i will opt to wait for his rerun

[chillingpenalty]

we got him.

[readsaboutreid]

Everything To Me | S.R.

summary: Spencer is in love with his coworker and best friend and goes all out to celebrate her birthday on the day after when she catches her boyfriend in bed with another woman when they arrive home from a case.

this is 100% season 1 spencer

warning: cheating, making out, angst/comfort

“(Y/N)! Wait up!” Spencer stumbled, tripping over his feet as he hurried to catch the elevator with his friend. He covered the distance from his desk to the elevator doors in record time as (Y/N) hit the button to presumably hold open the doors for him. He slid in and stood next to her while panting lightly. He really needed to do some cardio, he noted to himself.

“Wow, with speed like that I should start calling you Barry Allen,” she giggled, making Spencer's heart flutter in the best and most terrifying way and drawing a laugh out of his throat (even though he didn’t really get the reference). He couldn't help it when all he could think about was how much he wanted to hear that laugh every day for the rest of his life.

“Sorry,” he flashed a sheepish smile at her and ducked his head a little bit as he felt his cheeks heat up slightly.

“Hey, uh, I was wondering if you had any, uh, any plans for the evening? There’s a Star Trek: The Next Generation marathon and I know that’s your favorite Star Trek series so I was thinking maybe we could hang out and maybe get some takeout?"

"That sounds like it would be a hell of a time," she began. Spencer could already feel the incoming, "but I promised Warren I'd spend the evening with him since it's my birthday and all." Spencer had to keep himself from making a face at the mention of her asshole of a boyfriend, not wanting to upset her, and so instead he opted to skip over that and react to the next part of her statement.

"Wait it's your birthday? Why didn't you say anything? We all would have done something to celebrate before going home today," Spencer started kicking himself internally. How could he not have known today was her birthday? The two of them had become attached at the hip pretty much since she started at the BAU 4 months ago. She had even celebrated his own birthday with him and the rest of the team.

“Hey, it’s okay! You don’t need to feel bad or anything, I tend to just treat my birthday like it’s any other day so I often just don't even tell anyone when it is,” she shot him a sweet smile in an attempt to assure him that it was okay but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.

Spencer's heart sank a bit at the thought of not being able to celebrate (Y/N)'s birthday with her, but he knew Warren was important to her regardless of how much Spencer and the team disliked him. He mustered a smile and nodded, "No worries, spending time with Warren sounds great. Happy birthday, (Y/N). I hope your day is as wonderful as you are."

(Y/N) blushed at the compliment, waving it off modestly. The elevator dinged softly, indicating they had reached the ground floor. As the doors slid open, they stepped out into the bustling lobby of the FBI building. Spencer glanced at his watch and realized it was already late in the evening.

"Well, I should let you get going. Have a fantastic birthday night with Warren," Spencer said, trying to hide his disappointment behind a cheerful facade.

"Thank you, Spencer. I really appreciate it. We should definitely catch that Star Trek marathon another time," she replied with a warm smile before turning to head towards the exit.

Later in the evening, Spencer found himself sitting on his worn-out couch, a container of lukewarm Chinese takeout resting in his lap as he absentmindedly watched reruns of Star Trek. His mind kept wandering back to the encounter in the elevator with (Y/N) earlier that day. The missed opportunity to spend her birthday with her weighed heavily on his heart.

Just as Captain Picard was about to make a diplomatic decision that could change the course of an entire star system, Spencer's phone rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the screen to see (Y/N)'s name flashing brightly.

With a mixture of confusion and worry, he answered the call. "Hey, (Y/N), is everything okay?" His heart clenched at the sound of her quiet sobs on the other end of the line.

"Spencer," her voice cracked, "can you... can you come pick me up?"

Without another word, Spencer sprang into action. "Of course, (Y/N). I'll be right there. Where are you?" Spencer's voice was filled with concern as he quickly grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, leaving behind the half-eaten container of Chinese takeout and the flickering TV screen showing Star Trek.

As he drove through the quiet streets towards (Y/N)'s location, thoughts raced through Spencer's mind. Why was she crying? What had happened? He couldn't bear the thought of her in distress, especially on her birthday.

Finally reaching the spot where she said she would be, Spencer spotted (Y/N) sitting on a bench outside of a sketchy looking apartment complex, her head buried in her hands. He parked the car and hurried over to her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-streaked face.

"(Y/N), what's wrong?" Spencer knelt down beside her, gently placing a hand on her back. She looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, and he felt a crack in his chest

as her trembling voice filled the cool night air.

"I... I waited for Warren at my apartment, but he never showed up or called. I got worried and went to his place," she paused, taking a shuddering breath before continuing, "I let myself in with my key, and... and I found him in bed with another woman."

Shock rippled through Spencer as he struggled to process her words. The image of (Y/N) standing in the doorway of Warren's apartment, witnessing such a betrayal, tore at his heart. Anger flared within him, directed not only at Warren but at the unfairness of it all. How could someone as kind and genuine as (Y/N) be treated so callously?

Without hesitation, Spencer pulled (Y/N) into a tight embrace, offering her solace in the warmth of his arms. He felt her tears soak into his shirt as she clung to him, seeking comfort amidst the storm of emotions raging within her.

As she sobbed into his chest he felt tears pricking his own eyes. He gently cupped her head and started stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her before saying, “let’s get you into the car, okay?”

As Spencer led (Y/N) to his car, he couldn't shake the image of her devastated face from his mind. The weight of her heartbreak hung heavy in the air, suffocating him with a sense of helplessness. He opened the car door for her, watching as she settled into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," Spencer murmured softly as he started the engine, casting a sympathetic glance her way. "You deserve so much better than this."

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. "I should have known better than to get my hopes up. This is why I never celebrate my birthday. It’s more trouble than it’s worth," she confessed, her voice laced with resignation and nothing more than a whisper by the very end. Spencer's heart clenched at her words. He wanted nothing more than to ease her pain, to show her that she deserved all the love and happiness in the world.

"You deserve to be celebrated, (Y/N)," Spencer said with conviction, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light of the car. "No one has the right to make you feel otherwise. You are kind, beautiful, and deserving of all the love and joy that life has to offer."

Spencer's words echoed in (Y/N)'s mind as they drove through the quiet streets of the city, the soft glow of streetlights casting a serene ambiance over the car. The heaviness of her heart began to lift ever so slightly, buoyed by the sincerity in Spencer's eyes and the comfort of his presence beside her.

As they reached a stoplight, Spencer turned to (Y/N) with a tentative smile. "How about we make a detour?" he suggested gently. "There's this little ice cream shop a few blocks away. Maybe some ice cream might help lift your spirits."

(Y/N) managed a small smile in return, touched by Spencer's thoughtfulness. The simple gesture felt like a ray of sunshine breaking through the storm clouds that had gathered around her heart. "That sounds nice," she replied softly, her voice still tinged with sadness but with a glimmer of gratitude shining through.

They parked near the ice cream shop, its cheerful neon sign beckoning them inside. The bell above the door jingled as they stepped in, greeted by the sweet scent of freshly made waffle cones and a colorful display of ice cream flavors. Spencer guided (Y/N) to a cozy booth by the window, where they could watch the world pass by as they indulged in their frozen treats.

As they savored their ice cream, the heaviness in (Y/N)'s heart began to thaw, melting away with each spoonful of creamy sweetness. Spencer listened attentively as she shared snippets of her favorite childhood memories, her voice soft and wistful against the backdrop of cheerful chatter from other customers.

Once they had finished their ice cream, Spencer suggested another detour. "There's this little vintage store down the street that always has some classic movies on sale. How about we pick up one of your favorites and head back to my place to watch it?”

(Y/N) hesitated before saying, “I don’t know about picking up anything from a store but is that Star Trek marathon still on?” The slight amount of hope in her voice made Spencer’s heart flutter with a mix of relief and warmth. He had been longing for a chance to make her smile, to see a glimmer of happiness light up her eyes once more.

Nodding enthusiastically, he replied, "Absolutely! We can swing by the store another time. For now, let's head straight to my place for that Star Trek marathon." The anticipation in (Y/N)'s eyes was palpable as they made their way to Spencer's cozy apartment. The familiar scent of old books and fresh laundry greeted them as they stepped inside, the soft glow of string lights casting a warm ambiance over the living room.

Spencer turned the TV back on, dimming the lights to create a cozy home-theater atmosphere. They settled on the couch, surrounded by plush pillows and soft blankets, basking in the nostalgic thrill of the sci-fi classic unfolding on the screen.

As the episode played on, Spencer got up and reheated the Chinese food from earlier and putting it on plates for each of them. He grabbed himself a fork and got one of the sets of chopsticks from the restaurant for (Y/N). As he made his way back to the living room he saw (Y/N) happily rocking back and forth as she watched Data and Geordi share another one of their intriguing engineering discussions. Spencer couldn't help but smile at the sight, a flicker of contentment lighting up his own heart as he handed (Y/N) the plate with her food and settled back onto the couch beside her.

Between bites of General Tso's chicken and sips of hot tea, Spencer couldn't help but feel a sense of peace settle over him. The soft glow of the TV cast shadows across the room, creating a cocoon of warmth and familiarity around them. The gentle hum of the spaceship's engines on screen seemed to lull them both into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional chuckle or comment about the characters.

After a few episodes, Spencer found himself stealing glances at (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye, admiring the soft curve of her profile as she watched intently. He could see a spark of joy in her eyes, a fleeting moment of escape from the weight of unspoken emotions that lingered between them. Sensing a rare moment of vulnerability, Spencer cleared his throat softly before turning to (Y/N) with a gentle smile.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he began, his voice soft and tentative. "I was wondering... If you could have done anything for your birthday today, what would it have been?"

(Y/N) paused, her gaze shifting from the screen to Spencer. Her expression softened as she considered the question, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. "You know, I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian," she murmured, her eyes distant with longing. "And maybe the Botanic Gardens too... It's on my list of things to do someday."

Spencer nodded, committing her words to memory as he filed away the simple desires she shared. He made a mental note to himself, silently vowing to make those dreams a reality for her someday.

As they finished the last episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, Spencer noticed the clock on the wall ticking closer to midnight. With a sense of reluctance, he turned to (Y/N) and said, "I hate to cut this short, but it's getting late. I should call a cab for you."

(Y/N) looked up at him, a mixture of disappointment and understanding in her eyes. She nodded quietly, gathering her things and slipping on her coat. As Spencer dialed for a cab, he couldn't shake off the feeling of missed opportunities hanging heavy in the air.

The subdued sound of the approaching cab echoed through the quiet street outside. Spencer opened the door for (Y/N), his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. "I'll be picking you up at 11 am tomorrow so be dressed and ready," he said, surprising both himself and (Y/N) with his sudden declaration.

Confusion flashed across her face as she stammered, "But... why? Where are we going?"

"Just make sure you’re ready,” he smiled, ideas blossoming in his mind as he decided he was going to show her what her birthday meant to him. He closed the cab door behind her and waved as the car drove off before turning on his heel and heading back inside, preparing to show his best friend the time of her life tomorrow.

Spencer woke up at 8 am the next morning to the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, illuminating his room in a golden hue. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched his arms above his head and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Today was going to be special; he was determined to make it a day that (Y/N) would never forget.

Remembering her mention once that morning glories were her favorite flower, Spencer decided to start by weaving a delicate flower crown out of the vibrant blooms he had picked from his backyard garden. As he carefully intertwined the petals and vines into a crown fit for a queen, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of seeing (Y/N) wear it.

After finishing the flower crown, Spencer's thoughts drifted to a memory she had shared with him long ago. Before her parents had passed away, they used to build her a pillow fort and hang fairy lights in it on special occasions. Determined to recreate that sense of childhood magic for her, Spencer set about constructing a fort in his living room. He gathered every pillow and blanket he could find, stacking them strategically to form the walls of the fort. With a bit of effort and creativity, he managed to fashion an elaborate yet cozy hideaway filled with soft cushions and twinkling fairy lights. His PhD in Engineering was finally seeing some use.

As he stepped back to admire his handiwork, Spencer's heart swelled with a mix of emotions. The soft glow of the lights cast a warm, inviting aura over the fort, creating an atmosphere of whimsy and nostalgia. He could almost picture the look of wonder on (Y/N)'s face when she saw it, and the thought filled him with a sense of anticipation.

With the fort completed, Spencer glanced at the clock and realized it was almost time to pick up (Y/N). Quickly changing into a clean shirt and vest and grabbing the flower crown he had made earlier, he made his way out the door, excitement bubbling in his chest.

As he drove to (Y/N)'s apartment, Spencer's mind was a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. He parked the car a few blocks away, wanting to give himself a moment to compose himself before their day together began. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out onto the sidewalk and started the short walk to her building.

The street was alive with the sounds of the city waking up - the distant hum of traffic, the chatter of early risers going about their day. But in Spencer's mind, all he could focus on was the image of (Y/N) in his mind, wearing the flower crown he had made for her.

Finally reaching her apartment building, he climbed the steps to her floor, his heart pounding in his chest. Standing in front of her door, he took one last deep breath before lifting his hand to knock.

The sound echoed through the hallway, reverberating in Spencer's ears as he waited with bated breath. After what felt like an eternity, he heard footsteps approaching from inside the apartment. The soft shuffling of footsteps grew louder, and Spencer's pulse quickened in anticipation. Suddenly, the gentle click of the door being unlocked filled the air, and it slowly swung open to reveal (Y/N) standing before him.

She looked breathtaking. (Y/N) was wearing a simple yet elegant dress with cute buttons lining the front and a delicate peter pan collar. Her chin length bob was slightly curved under her chin and her bangs fell across her forehead in such a perfect way and Spencer looked away quickly, his cheeks burning when he realized he was staring. For a moment, they stood there in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and emotions.

Then, Spencer slowly brought forward the flower crown he had hidden behind his back, holding it out towards (Y/N) with a shaky hand. “Happy birthday," he finally whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he nervously offered her the crown. The soft petals of the flowers brushed against her fingertips, and (Y/N)'s eyes widened in surprise and delight as she took the flower crown from Spencer's hand. A small gasp escaped her lips as she held the delicate creation, a mix of awe and gratitude shining in her eyes as she looked up at him.

"Spencer, it's beautiful," she murmured as she gently placed it atop her head, her voice soft with emotion. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow that illuminated her features, making her look even more ethereal. In that moment, caught in the gentle morning light, Spencer felt a swell of affection for her that threatened to overwhelm him.

After a beat of silence filled with unspoken words hanging in the air between them, Spencer cleared his throat and offered a hesitant smile. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, his heart beating a little faster at the prospect of spending the day with her.

(Y/N) returned his smile with a nod, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she looped her arm through his, the flower crown perched delicately on her head. They strolled down the bustling street, the city waking up around them with a cacophony of sounds and scents. Spencer couldn't help but steal glances at (Y/N), her presence beside him filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt before.

Their first stop was a cozy bookshop just across the street from her apartment building. The bell above the door chimed softly as they entered, and the scent of aged paper and ink enveloped them in a comforting embrace. Rows upon rows of books lined the shelves, each one whispering promises of new worlds and adventures.

"Pick out as many as you'd like," Spencer said, gesturing to the endless array of titles surrounding them. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight, a soft gasp escaping her lips as she wandered through the aisles, her fingers trailing over spines in search of stories. He watched as she made her way through the shelves until she reached the SciFi/Fantasy and Horror section and begin removing books from the shelves, reading the backs and either adding them to the stack in her arms or placing them back on the shelves.

Spencer couldn't help but admire the way (Y/N) immersed herself in the world of books, her eyes alight with a passion that made her even more enchanting. She moved with purpose, carefully selecting each book as if it held a piece of her soul within its pages. His heart swelled with fondness for her, her love for literature reflecting a depth to her character that he found endlessly captivating.

As (Y/N) returned back to him, her arms filled with a stack of books that seemed to reach towards the sky, she gave him a sheepish smile. "I might have gotten a bit carried away," she admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Could you help me narrow things down a little bit?”

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. "No need to apologize. Let's see what treasures you've found," he said, reaching out to take a few books from her arms. Together, they perused the titles she had chosen, discussing the plots and themes. After they had no luck in narrowing down the pile, Spencer scooped them all up into his arms in a stack and began making his way to the checkout stand.

"Why bother narrowing it down?" Spencer's voice was filled with a playful lilt as he carried the stack of books towards the checkout counter, (Y/N) trailing behind him with a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Impressive selection," the bookstore clerk commented as he rung up the stack of books, each title a window into (Y/N)'s interests and desires. (Y/N) beamed at the compliment, her eyes shining with confusion and gratitude as Spencer pulled out his wallet and paid before she could even reach for her own from her bag.

As they left the bookshop, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the crowded streets. The sounds of the city swirled around them—honking cars, lively chatter, and the distant rumble of a passing train. Spencer glanced over at (Y/N) walking beside him, her face illuminated by a soft radiance.

(Y/N) quickly unlocked the door and placed the bags of books onto her dining room table before they walked back outside. Spencer patiently waited as she locked her door before holding his arm out again for her to grab on to as he lead her to his car.

As they arrived at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, Spencer's steps were light with anticipation. The air was alive with the promise of discovery, and he couldn't wait to share this world of wonders with (Y/N). The museum loomed before them like a giant treasure trove, its grand architecture a testament to human ingenuity and ambition.

Stepping inside, they were greeted by a vast hall filled with aircraft suspended from the ceiling like metallic birds frozen in flight. (Y/N)'s eyes widened in awe, her gaze flitting from one exhibit to another as Spencer led her through the maze of history and innovation.

"This is the Wright Flyer," Spencer said, pointing towards the iconic biplane that started it all. "It's incredible to think that this simple machine paved the way for all modern aviation."

As they moved deeper into the museum, Spencer's voice became a gentle murmur of knowledge and passion. He regaled (Y/N) with stories of astronauts who dared to venture beyond Earth's atmosphere and the technological advancements that made it all possible. (Y/N) listened with rapt attention, her eyes shimmering with wonder and admiration for both the exhibits and the man beside her.

Each artifact held a story, a piece of history waiting to be unraveled. Spencer's explanations brought life to the static displays, turning them into vibrant tales of human courage and scientific progress. He pointed out the intricate details of each spacecraft, each spacesuit, each photograph, as if they were sacred relics in a grand temple of human achievement.

As they entered the lunar module exhibit, (Y/N) gasped in awe at the sight of the actual spacecraft that had touched the surface of the moon as well as a piece of rock from the moon that was free for visitors to touch. She reached out a hand as if to touch it, but stopped herself, as if afraid to disturb the fragile connection between past and present.

Spencer noticed her hesitation and smiled softly. "It's okay, you can touch it," he encouraged. "Feel the history in your fingers."

(Y/N) tentatively reached out and brushed her fingertips against the cool, pitted surface of the moon rock. A jolt of electricity seemed to pass through her as she made contact, connecting her to a distant world that had once seemed so unreachable. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, overwhelmed by the weight of history and the magnitude of human achievement.

Spencer watched her with a mix of admiration and fondness, his heart swelling with a bittersweet ache at the sight of her emotional response. He longed to reach out and comfort her, to share in this moment of vulnerability and connection, but he held back, knowing that some experiences were meant to be felt in solitude.

As they moved on to the space shuttle exhibit, Spencer's voice took on a reverent tone as he explained the intricacies of space travel and the courage of those who dared to venture into the unknown. (Y/N) listened intently, hanging onto his every word as if they were precious treasures. The stories of the astronauts and their daring adventures resonated with her in a way she couldn't quite explain. It was as if each tale of exploration and discovery tugged at something deep within her, awakening a yearning for the stars that had long been dormant.

After exploring the wonders of the cosmos in the Air and Space Museum, Spencer suggested they visit the Museum of Natural History next. (Y/N) eagerly agreed, her curiosity piqued by the promise of delving into the mysteries of the natural world.

The moment they stepped into the museum, a wave of earthy scents enveloped them—the musty aroma of ancient fossils, the fresh green fragrance of preserved plants, and the tangy scent of minerals. (Y/N) took a deep breath, savoring the rich tapestry of odors that surrounded her as they ventured deeper into the exhibits.

Spencer guided her through halls filled with towering skeletons of dinosaurs, exotic taxidermy specimens, and sparkling gemstones that seemed to whisper tales of ancient worlds and forgotten creatures. His voice, now a gentle hum of fascination, wove intricate stories of the natural wonders before them, each exhibit a chapter in the never-ending book of Earth's history.

With every step, (Y/N) felt herself being transported back in time, her senses overwhelmed by the sights, sounds, and scents of a world long gone yet preserved within the walls of the museum. She marveled at the sheer diversity of life that had once inhabited the planet, from the majestic bones of a towering T-Rex to the delicate wings of a butterfly frozen in time.

As they reached the Butterfly Pavilion, (Y/N)'s eyes lit up with childlike excitement. She walked among the lush greenery, her fingers gently trailing over velvety leaves and vibrant petals as she inspected each plant with keen interest. Spencer watched her with a soft smile, his admiration for her knowledge and passion shining in his eyes.

"It’s like stepping into a living kaleidoscope," (Y/N) breathed, her voice hushed with wonder. "Each butterfly and moth, every plant here tells a story of adaptation and survival. Look at this one," she gestured to a plump monarch butterfly sipping nectar from a bright orange bloom, "did you know they migrate for thousands of miles to escape the cold?"

Spencer was happy to listen intently to her spout knowledge that he already held, captivated by the gleam in her eyes and the animated gestures that accompanied each explanation. He found himself falling even more deeply under her spell as she shared her wealth of knowledge, her voice growing more animated with each tidbit of information.

As they wandered through the pavilion, (Y/N) pointed out the intricate patterns on the butterflies' wings, explaining their purpose and significance with a mix of scientific precision and unbridled enthusiasm. Spencer couldn't help but be swept up in her passion, feeling a warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of her so fully immersed in her element. Her rarely used PhDs in Botany and Microbiology shone brightly through her words and actions as she explained the importance of every living thing within the enclosure down to the network of fungal mycelium in the dirt, making Spencer see her in a whole new light. The way she spoke about each species of butterfly or moth, each plant or fungus they saw, showcased not only her expertise but also her deep love and respect for the natural world.

Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word, just as she had done with his tales of space exploration earlier. He admired the way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her hands gestured animatedly as if conducting a symphony of knowledge and wonder.

As they reached a secluded corner of the pavilion, (Y/N) knelt down beside a cluster of milkweed plants, her voice soft and reverent as she explained their importance to the monarch butterflies. Spencer watched her intently, a sense of peace settling over him as he observed her in her element. He then checked his watch, his eyes widening in realization as he saw the time. They were going to be late for the dinner reservation he had managed to secure at the new Italian restaurant (Y/N) had been longing to try for months. With a gentle touch on her shoulder, Spencer interrupted her explanation about the symbiotic relationship between the milkweed plants and monarch butterflies.

"(Y/N), as much as I hate to interrupt your fascinating lesson, we should start heading out. We have a dinner reservation," Spencer said apologetically, a hint of regret in his tone.

Startled by the mention of dinner, (Y/N) straightened up, her eyes widening in surprise before a sheepish smile crossed her face. "Oh gosh, I completely lost track of time! I'm so sorry, Spencer. Let's go."

They hurried through the Butterfly Pavilion, their steps quickening as they made their way to the exit. Spencer opened the passenger door for her as they approached his car, and they soon found themselves seated inside as Spencer started the engine. The warmth of the setting sun bathed the interior in a golden glow, casting long shadows across (Y/N)'s face as she fastened her seatbelt. She glanced over at Spencer, her eyes shining with a mix of excitement and anticipation for the evening ahead.

The drive to the Italian restaurant was filled with comfortable silence, the only sound the soft hum of the radio playing a mellow jazz tune in the background. Spencer stole glances at (Y/N) from time to time, admiring how the fading light accentuated her features, casting her in a soft, ethereal glow.

Arriving at the restaurant, they were greeted by the tantalizing aroma of garlic and tomato sauce wafting through the air. The cozy ambiance of the place enveloped them as they were led to their table, nestled in a corner with a flickering candle casting dancing shadows on their faces.

As they perused the menu, (Y/N)'s eyes widened in delight as she scanned the offerings, her excitement palpable. Spencer couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a warmth in his chest that had nothing to do with the romantic candlelight surrounding them. This moment, this simple act of sharing a meal with her, felt like a glimpse into the life he had always wanted but never dared to reach for.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and shared stories. (Y/N)'s eyes sparkled with joy as she recounted a hilarious mishap at work, and Spencer found himself hanging onto her every word once again. It was moments like these that made him forget about his own worries and fears, immersing himself in the present moment.

As the waiter brought out their food, the table was soon filled with plates of steaming pasta and fragrant sauces. The first bite sent a burst of flavors dancing on (Y/N)'s tongue, and she couldn't help but close her eyes in bliss. Spencer watched her savor each mouthful, her expression a symphony of delight and contentment. The flickering candlelight played on her face, accentuating the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

Spencer's gaze lingered on her, a sense of longing tugging at his heart. He wanted to freeze this moment in time, to etch it into his memory forever. The warmth of the restaurant, the soft glow of the candle, the sound of (Y/N)'s laughter – all of it wove together into a tapestry of perfect happiness.

But beneath the surface of their shared joy, Spencer felt a pang of bittersweet realization. This was just a moment, a fleeting interlude in their lives. Tomorrow, they would return to their separate paths, their separate dreams.

As (Y/N) reached for her glass of wine, her hand brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through him. Their eyes met, and in that brief moment of connection, Spencer felt a surge of courage wash over him. As they finished their meals, the waiter returned to their table with a flourish, presenting a tray of decadent desserts that Spencer had secretly ordered while (Y/N) was in the bathroom. A smile played on his lips as he watched her eyes widen in surprise and delight at the unexpected treat.

"Spencer, you didn't have to do this," she murmured, her voice soft with gratitude.

"It's my pleasure," he replied, his tone gentle yet tinged with a hint of nervousness. "Would you like to enjoy it here or take it to go and eat it while watching something?"

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering between the cozy restaurant ambiance and the promise of a quiet moment elsewhere. After a brief pause, she decided, "Let's take it to go."

Spencer nodded in agreement and politely requested the bill. As he settled the payment, a sense of resolve settled in him, guiding his actions as they left the restaurant. The cool night air caressed their skin as they walked towards Spencer's car parked just around the corner. He opened the passenger door for her, a gesture that was both chivalrous and intimate.

As they drove through the city streets, (Y/N) couldn't shake off the feeling of curiosity that gnawed at her mind. Why were they headed to Spencer's apartment instead of hers, as she had anticipated? Her thoughts raced, trying to find an explanation for this unexpected turn of events.

Upon arriving at his apartment building, Spencer handed her the to-go boxes with their desserts before unlocking the door. A sense of bewilderment washed over (Y/N) as she followed him inside. Before she could voice her confusion, Spencer moved behind her and gently covered her eyes with his hands, guiding her further into his apartment.

The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air as (Y/N) let herself be led by Spencer through the dimly lit hallway. Her heart raced with a mix of anticipation and curiosity, her trust in him unwavering as he guided her with careful steps. The soft shuffle of their feet echoed in the corridor, creating a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of her own pulse.

After what felt like an eternity of darkness behind her closed eyelids, Spencer's hands finally left (Y/N)'s eyes, revealing a mesmerizing sight before her. As she blinked away the temporary blindness, a gasp escaped her lips at the magical scene that unfolded in front of her.

The room was transformed into a whimsical wonderland – an elaborate pillow fort stretched across the space, twinkling with fairy lights that cast a warm, inviting glow. Soft blankets cascaded down like waterfalls, creating nooks and crannies that held the promise of cozy comfort. The air was scented with old books, eucalyptus, and lavender, adding to the ethereal atmosphere that surrounded them.

Spencer watched (Y/N) with bated breath as she took in the sight before her. The flickering lights danced across her face, illuminating the awe and wonder reflected in her eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, suspended between reality and a dream.

"Happy birthday, (Y/N)," Spencer's voice was barely a whisper, filled with a vulnerability that he had never dared to show before.

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, moved by the effort and thoughtfulness he had put into creating this enchanting surprise. She turned to face him, her heart overflowing with emotions she struggled to put into words.

"Spencer, this is... it's perfect," she finally managed to say, her voice trembling with emotion. She reached out to grasp his hand, holding onto it as though afraid this magical moment would slip away if she let go.

As they settled into the cocoon of blankets and pillows, Spencer grabbed his laptop from his desk and popped a DVD into the disc player. The opening to a movie he had never seen but had heard her talk about multiple times, Clueless, played in the background but all he could do was look at her. Under the twinkling of the fairy lights he could almost swear she had to be a fairy herself. That’s the only thing he could think of that would explain her beauty.

As the movie played on (Y/N) explained to Spencer that it was actually an adaptation of her favorite novel by Jane Austen, Emma, which did little to make him feel the main character was more likeable but watching her happily chatter about the movie filled him with a sense of comfort and affection. This is how it should always be, he thought to himself, wrapping his arms around her as she settled against his chest.

They sat and cuddled in a comfortable silence until it was broken by her voice, soft and timid as she said, “hey Spence?”

“Hm?” He hummed into her hair, his eyes closed.

“Why did you do all of this?” She queried, sounding like she was on the verge of tears, which immediately pulled Spencer from his half asleep haze.

Spencer thought about his next words carefully, taking so long that (Y/N) was about to ask if he had fallen asleep before he finally responded. “After seeing you so heartbroken last night and seeing how Warren just tossed you aside like you didn’t matter I just felt like I should show you how much it means to me that you exist." His voice was gentle, barely a whisper as he confessed the depth of his feelings for her.

(Y/N) felt her breath catch in her throat at his words. The vulnerability in his voice touched her heart in a way she had never experienced before. She turned to look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and care reflected back at her.

Tears glistened in her eyes as she reflexively leaned into his hand as he reached to cup her cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that spoke volumes. "Spencer," she murmured, her voice filled with emotion, "you didn’t have to—I’m not worth all this—I-I don’t—"

He placed a finger on her lips, silencing her words. "That’s what I’ve spent all day trying to show you, (Y/N). You are worth it. You are worth everything to me," he whispered, his gaze unwavering.

In that moment, (Y/N) felt a rush of emotions swell within her, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming gratitude. Her heart pounded in her chest as she gazed into Spencer's eyes, seeing a depth of love and sincerity that she had never expected to find. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

As they sat there, suspended in time, (Y/N) felt a gentle tug at her heart urging her to lean forward. She hesitated for a moment, uncertainty clouding her mind as she debated the implications of such a gesture. Could she allow herself to be vulnerable again after everything she had been through? Was it worth risking her heart for the possibility of something more?

But before she could overthink it any further, Spencer's gaze softened even more as he leaned in towards her. In the briefest moment of hesitation, his lips hovered centimeters away from hers, silently asking for permission. And just as he began to pull back, (Y/N) plunged forward, closing the distance between them as she pressed her lips against Spencer's. It was a tender, tentative kiss filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had lingered between them for so long. The world seemed to stand still as they shared this intimate moment, their hearts beating in harmony.

Spencer was momentarily stunned by the sudden turn of events, but as he felt (Y/N)'s warmth against his lips, all doubts and insecurities melted away. When they finally pulled away, they were both met with flushed cheeks and wide eyes. There was a charged energy in the air, a newfound connection that sparked between them like a flame igniting in the darkness.

"(Y/N)," Spencer whispered, his voice barely above a breath as he searched her eyes for confirmation.

(Y/N) simply smiled, a radiant expression that lit up her face with joy and relief. “I love you, Spencer,” falls from her lips before she crashes them back against his.

[fungal-rot]

Pure Instinct - Surrender

okay so i've been seeing those tiktok ads about that Pure-Instinct perfume and I had A Thot- it was originally supposed to go a different route, but i kinda went everywhere with this LOL.

summary: no outbreak; you bought a new perfume, one that's supposed to entice the opposite sex. but just how well does it actually work?

warnings: MDNI- smut (unprotected p-in-v), joel being a bit of a horndog, semi-desperate sex, oral (f receiving), use of 'good girl' and pet names (darlin', baby, pretty girl, honey), a bit of bulge riding, slight dom!joel, established relationship, no age specification for reader- lemme know if i forgot anything! - also please note i’m getting back into writing. i’m a lil rusty and still getting back into the flow of things; apologies for any mistakes.

w.c.: 2.7k

    ⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

All over the internet you've come across different videos advertising some 'pheromone perfume-' a blend of essential oils that are meant to work with your own natural scent, enhancing your body's pheromones- or something of the sort. Seeing the men become infatuated with their girlfriends and wives, clinging to them with lust-blown pupils certainly had your interest piqued.

After an- albeit, quick- internal debate with yourself, you bit the bullet and looked up the seller's site, coming across different smells like 'Crave,' 'Lucky,' 'Fallen-'

And 'Surrender.'

Sounds sexy. With a smirk you click on it, reading the description,

'Surrender has a sophisticated and mature scent which designed for the woman who wants to feel confident, beautiful, and sensual. Own any room you enter in. You won't just be noticed — you'll make heads turn. Sexy, but not vulgar.'

Sounds dominant.

There were different layers of notes, like magnolia, mandarin, vanilla, sandalwood; the list went on. Seemed like a good choice. You were about to add it to your cart, finger hovering over the button, but then you hesitated. Did you really need this? Was it that important to find out if it was worth the hype? To see if Joel would be unable to tear himself away from you, kissing you hungrily while ripping your clothes off an-

Added to your cart!

It was for science.

You even opted to pay extra for express shipping, heart racing with a giddy bite of your lip.

The day it arrived, you were practically bouncing on your feet with glee. Joel was at work, wouldn't be home for another hour or so. That meant you had plenty of time to get things together and play around with it.

Taking a quick shower then pulling a low cut shirt over your head and shimmying a pair of leggings on, you grabbed your little container of liquid-luck, rolling it over your heat points; a little between your breasts, behind your ears, along the crook of your neck, wrists, and fold of your arms. It definitely smelled alluring upon first apply. Now to let it dry and wait.

-

Keys jingled outside the door, the knob twisting a few times before the entrance swung open followed by a rather exhausted looking Joel Miller who stumbled through. The man heaved a heavy sigh as he tossed his keys into the dish and toed of his shoes before padding to the couch where you sat, pushing your cuticles back as you watched a rerun of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer.

"Hi, sugar," you greet, flicking your eyes to him as he flopped down, making you bounce softly. His hair was damp with sweat from being out in the hot Texas sun all day, thick veins protruding from his work-callused hands, trailing up his arm.

"Hm," he grunted in reply and placed his palms over his eyes as he leaned against the back of the couch, chest expanding with a deep breath only to falter for a split second. Joel took in another breath, this one loud and deliberate. With hands lowering from his face, he turned his head to you, slowly, with knit brows.

"D'ya smell that?" He asked, sniffing again with a curious glance of the room.

Now, you had to play this right. You couldn't just outright tell him you bought perfume that would have him slobbering all over you, no. That would defeat the purpose of your little experiment.

So instead you played coy and sniffed at the air just as he did, nose turning up with a gentle shake of your head and small bob of your shoulders.

"I don't smell anything."

He nods slowly, eyes narrowing with a slight slack of his jaw, tongue poking through the side of his teeth while he studied you.

"You don't smell that?" Joel pressed further, almost exasperatedly.

"Smell what, Joel?" A quiet titter sounded with your words, brows arching as an amused grin toyed at your lips.

"Jus'..." Joel trailed off, wetting his lip with a quick swipe of his tongue. The scent wasn't too overbearing. It was sweet, musky, and a hint of something so conversant. Something that always managed to get him hot under the collar. A heat that not even the dry summers he endured on a frequent basis could compare to.

That's when you leaned over him- totally not at all planned- reaching an arm past to grab one of the magazines on the end table. Joel drew another quick breath and it hit him. Before you could retreat he snatched your wrist with a tight grip, pupils dilated widely with parted lips. " 'S' you..." He murmured, attention solely on you and you alone.

The corner of your mouth twitched up into a smug smirk, "Is it?" You hushed back, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin as he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist, slowly trailing up your arm and to your shoulder. A curt chuckle sounded from his chest as his own lips turned up. "Mm, I think so, baby," Now his lips danced on the crook of your neck, taking another whiff.

'Oh, fuck, that's good.' He thought, emitting a low growl.

"Yeah..." He purred, teeth grazing over your pulse point and eliciting a quiet moan from you, "that's alllll you, darlin'."

Hell, if Joel was tired before, he was certainly up now- in more ways than one.

"C'mere, pretty girl," He muttered and sat back, legs spread as he motioned two fingers in your direction. He watched with hungry intent as you crawled into his lap, thighs straddling his. Joel pawed at your hips, rolling them forward against the bulge straining in the confinements of his jeans with a grunt.

"Got me so damn hard an' ya haven't even done anything," With another forced roll, he throws his head back with a sigh. "Ride." He ordered with a strained voice, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You didn't move just yet, however, and took in the sight of him; eyes shut and brows knitted softly, plush lips parted.

"Ride," Joel repeated with a firm smack to the meat of your ass, making you yelp and rut against him once more. You could feel the warm thickness of his cramped length through the thin cloth of your leggings, each continuous grind against your clit made you writhe in pleasure.

Good god, you were doing a number on him. He bucked his hips up in time with yours, panting faintly before sitting up and wrapping his thick, strong arms around your body.

Joel buried his nose into your neck again, allowing your enticing scent to flood his mind. His stomach tightened, and he had to pull you off his lap before he came in his underwear like a damn teen. You whine at the loss of friction, expression forming a soft pout as he laid you down, head against the armrest.

"I know, baby, I know," Joel cooed and tenderly cupped your jaw, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, " 'M gonna take care'a ya." He leaned down and planted a quick peck to the side of your nose.

"Always do, don't I?"

The man lowered himself down your body, hands stopping to caress and grab every now and then before slipping his fingers into the waistband of your leggings, swiftly tugging them down and watched as a string of arousal pulled, connecting the fabric to your lips. He smirked, relishing the fact you were just as turned on as he was, but what really caught his attention was-

"No panties?" He quirked a brow, a shit-eating grin apparent on his face as he continued shimmying you out of your pants. "Y'had this planned, didn't ya?"

You chuckled, biting your lip meekly and avert your gaze. Whoops! Caught.

"So, what is it?" He asked, curling a leg into the couch as the other planted on the floor, his head dipping to your center and placed an open-mouthed kiss to the inner crease of your hip.

"Surrender," You answered breathily, peering down at him as continued lavishing you with loving smooches and pecks, his wiry facial hair scratching at your body that only fanned the flames in your tummy.

His brows drew together with a vague frown as he lifted his head, "Whaddya think I'm tryin' ta do right now?"

Even though his words made you clench around nothing, you still couldn't help but laugh and bring a hand to your mouth to stop yourself. With a shake of your head you say, "No, dummy. I mean, that's the name of the perfume I bought."

Joel tilted his head back in a slight nod, uttering a soft 'Ohhh.'

"I dunno how I was s'posed ta know that," his head lowered once more, breath fanning over your wet heat and flicked his eyes to meet yours, "but it's fitting."

He didn't even give you a chance to process what he said before diving straight into your folds, tongue lapping over every crevice and drinking you down.

"O-oh, fu-fuck!" You breathed out, thighs instinctively closing around his head as your hand grasped at his sweat-matted brown hair.

He growled into your cunt, bracing his hands on either side of the soft, pillowy flesh of your legs and forcing you open again. Normally, Joel loved using them as his own personal pair of earmuffs, but now? He wanted you spread for him, needed it actually. He'd drown in you if he could, and by god he'd willingly die trying.

His mouth detached for a moment, just long enough for him to stick out his tongue and let a string of drool fall over your labia, watching with a satisfied smirk as it slid down to your entrance. Snaking a hand from under your thigh, he brought two fingers to your clit, brushing the pads of them over it with teasing glides. Your hips twitched and bucked with a soft mewl leaving your throat.

Joel dragged his bottom lip between his teeth before lowering his fingers. Down, down, then circling at your hole and slowly pushing in. A sharp gasp ripped from your chest, back arching as you finally got that stretch; so achingly sweet.

His cock twitched at the sound, begging to be let free and seek shelter deep inside your pussy. He had enough restraint (for now) to get you off first.

And they say chivalry is dead...

He latched his mouth back onto you, slurping obscenely as he licked his way up, fingers curling into the spongy spot of your canal.

"Jo- oh- el!" You cried his name brokenly, hand closing a tight fist into his hair with a tug. You could feel the fucker- no pun intended- smirk against you as he pumped his fingers in and out, picking up the pace as he suckled on the sensitive button. Your whines grew more relentless, hips rolling against the flat of his tongue and holding his head in place as the coil in your stomach began to tighten.

Joel felt you clench around his fingers and took that, along with the way you fervently bumped against the bridge of his nose, as a sign you were close. With a wince he reached his free hand to his jeans, fumbling with the button before sliding the fly down, reaching in and finally pulling out his hard cock.

Said hand went back to its rightful place against your thigh while he rutted against the cushions, pre-cum making a mess into the leather.

"C'mon, darlin'," He murmured, taking a quick glance at you and reveled in the sight of your flushed cheeks, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back against the arm rest. "Give it t'me, cum around my fingers." You didn't need to be told twice. In an instant, that coil snapped. Your legs trembled and shook as your climax ripped through your body, eyes snapping open and mouth agape, but no sound came out other than a few breathy whimpers.

"Good girl," Joel praised, still subtly grinding against the couch, desperate for his own release. "Good fuckin' girl." You had made a complete mess of his hand, your spend dripping down his fingers, into his palm and down his wrist, dribbling onto the sofa.

After your body relaxed, hand releasing the harsh grip from his hair, Joel pulled his fingers from you, making a shudder run up your spine. He sat back on his haunches, pushing his hand to your mouth and said, "Open."

Complying happily in your blissed-out state, your jaw slacked, allowing him to slide his soaked fingers into you warm mouth, palming himself with his other hand while he watched your lips close around the digits, feeling your tongue lick and clean your slick off them.

With a satisfied hum, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, greedily shoving his way past your teeth and licking the roof of your mouth.

Joel backed away, staring deep into your eyes. He huffed, pulling his pants down further, stepping out of one leg. He was so fucking horny and desperate right now he wasn't going to bother with the other one. This would do just fine.

"Need t'fuck you, baby," He spoke in a hushed tone, and without further warning he grabbed your leg and hooked it around his waist just before sliding right in with ease.

The two of you moan in unison. Either he was fucking huge- spoiler, he was- or you were really fucking tight.

Joel collapsed, a hand splayed next to your head to catch himself so he wouldn't fall directly on top of you as he bared his teeth with a hiss.

"Chris' onna damn bike," He slurred, gently lowering himself further and snaking an arm under you as he lazily thrusted into you.

He glanced down to where you two met, watching as he delved in further, "She's jus' swallowin' me in."

An aquiline nose sought out your neck, the sound of Joel consuming your scent filled your ears once more. He simply couldn't get enough. Hips snapped against yours incessantly, skin against skin bouncing off the walls and drowning out the sound of the tv in the background.

The man above reached a hand under your shirt, groping and squeezing your tit as he lowered his forehead to yours, half-lidded eyes boring into yours intently.

"Fuck," He muttered, eyes widening, hips stuttering, "Fuck, 'm close." Joel was a little ashamed of himself. He couldn't remember the last time he made it to the finish line so quickly.

He was quick to remove his hand from under your shirt, finger dipping to the spot where his cock pumped in and out, collecting your slick before sliding it up to your puffy clit yet again.

"Y'think you can gimme another'n, honey?"

"Y-yeah," You nod, feeling that familiar flame lick up your spine. "Wanna cum on your cock."

Joel's lip curled into a snarl at your admission, eyes rolling back before fluttering shut. His movements blundered, then he pulled out, leaving just the tip slotted in your entrance.

"Please," he whined. Whined.

That fucking did it. Your body tightened for the second time this evening, eager to let go and milk Joel of every last drop he had to offer.

"I'm c-" He interjected with a slam of his hips, making you see stars as he fucked you through your orgasm, the head of his dick tapping your cervix as he pushed himself as deep as he could, jerking into you almost feverishly. Your name fell off his tongue like a mantra while he held you flush against him, your back peeling off the leather with arms wrapped around his back as you nestled your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the musky, sweaty scent of him- your personal favorite brand of 'pheromone perfume' he wears.

After his body lightened, he turned his head and placed a listless, yet tender kiss to your temple. You made a move to crawl away, but that made his grip on you tighten.

"Not yet," he spoke lowly and leaned back, pulling you with him. "Wanna stay like this. Jus' for a minute."

His hand smoothed back your hair, the two of you laid there in silence to catch your breath. After a good ten minutes or so, you lift your head to peek at him, "So, I take it you liked the perfume?"

Joel offered a lopsided smile, rolling his head to the side with a swallow, "Loved it, darlin'."

You'd have to remember to buy more in the future.

⁺˚°｡⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆｡°˚⁺

hi, hello, thank you for reading. as stated above, i’m still basically re-learning to write. i’m trying to get in the hang of properly pacing out the story, not too rushed but not too wordy either. feedback is appreciated! pls feel free to interact with a reblog or comment <3

[themindofachronicdaydreamer]

Suites & Sweets

freshman year at Jujutsu University Tokyo seems like it will be uneventful. and, well, that's true... until you meet the boys in the suite across the hall, and one in particular piques your interest.

satoru gojo x reader | jjk college au | no curse au | fem! reader | fluff, angst, & slow burn | SMAU & writing <3

introduction | previous | next

₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.

ˋ°•*⁀➷˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 3. 𝓑𝓞𝓣𝓣𝓞𝓜𝓢 𝓤𝓟 ⍣ ೋ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ... wc: 1.9k

With a deep breath, you raise your fist to knock on the door across from your own. Utahime, Shoko, and Mei Mei surround you, the atmosphere in the hallway flooding with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. It was nerve-wracking that you were about to be in a room with a bunch of guys you don't really know, but you had each other and could leave whenever, so that made you feel incrementally better. That mixed with the excitement of making new friends is what encouraged you to knock on their door.

The air is almost uncomfortably quiet as you wait for the door to open, and when it finally does, it reveals Yu, smile wide across his face as he says, "Hey! Come on in!"

"Hey Yu," you say and go to give him a quick hug, which he returns with a gentle squeeze to your side. "Thanks for letting us invade your place."

"Anytime!" he responds with a slight giggle, then waves his hand in a follow me kind of gesture. He pivots and leads the way into the living room space, where a blond boy sits on the couch and another boy with long, black hair down his back is settled on the floor. The television plays sit-com reruns and you watch the blond chuckle at the screen before turning his head in your direction.

"Hi!" you wave at them with a friendly smile. "I'm yn, and this is Utahime, Shoko, and Mei Mei, my roommates and best friends! Not sure if Yu told you, but we'll be living across the hall for the year."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Kento," the blond one says politely.

"I'm Suguru," the other one greets, and you notice his gaze lingering on Utahime as he continues, "Nice to meet you all."

"Satoru is in his room doing God-knows-what," Yu explains the absence of their fourth roommate. "He'll be out soon enough, I'm sure."

"It might be better he stays in there," Suguru mutters, causing Yu to laugh and Kento to breath quickly out of his nose - so, basically laughed, too.

"He is a bit chaotic," Yu adds and you watch Suguru roll his eyes. "But regardless, we are gonna have fun!"

"I hate to ask already - no, that's a lie, I don't hate to ask. Where's the alcohol?" Mei Mei queries.

"Damn, not even five minutes in," jests Shoko.

"I was promised!" the blue-haired girl jabs at Shoko's arm with her elbow.

"I'll show you," Nanami stands and walks toward the kitchen, Mei Mei following like an excited little kid promised new toys.

You opt to follow the two light-haired individuals and the others trail behind you. You all trickle into the kitchen and see Kento has opened a cabinet and is asking Mei Mei for her preference.

"There's some in the fridge, too," Yu offers, opening it up and grabbing a beer for himself. You peer into it and grab a seltzer that seems to have a new flavor you have yet to try. Shoko steals a beer, and Mei Mei and Utahime ask if anyone wants shots, then proceed to pour one for everyone without waiting for an answer.

"Pizza's on the way already, by the way," you announce.

"Good, I'm starved," says Utahime while stealing a sip of Shoko's beer then grimacing at the taste. Under her breath, she mutters, "I hate beer."

"Everyone, line up!" Mei Mei instructs. She raises her shot glass, announcing, "Now, I know we all just met, but you guys already seem cool. So, cheers to being neighbors, and cheers to the first semester!"

There are a couple whoops and celebratory noises before everyone throws back the vodka. You feel the liquor burn the back of your throat, the taste making your tongue tingle. You quickly chase it with your seltzer and slam the shot glass on the counter.

When you look up, you see God.

Well, probably not God. Maybe a saint or an angel or even a ghost because you had just recently convinced yourself that the guy from the frat with the most beautiful eyes and perfect build and hypnotizing smile was something made from your imagination; a figment of a dream of an idea of a memory. Yet he stands before you now, watching you frozen in place with what you expect is probably a similarly astonished look as your own.

You smile sheepishly and stare at your hand, realizing he is probably staring because you are and he likely doesn't even remember you - the lights were dark and you had a quick interaction. Or at least, you hope he doesn't remember you. If he does, you decide your only option is to crawl into a little hole you dug yourself with your own stupidity and spend the rest of eternity ruminating on that exact moment - the one where you ruined your life.

"You good, girl?" you hear Shoko whisper over to you after she places a hand on your shoulder. All you do is look to her with wide eyes and jerk your head toward the white haired boy, and she completely understands - she always does. She turns away to walk to the fridge but leans next to your ear and whispers at a level barely you can hear, "Shit, you were right about his eyes."

"Satoru!" Yu exclaims, finally noticing the boy's presence. "You're alive!"

"Of course! Why'd you ask? Did'ya miss me?" he asks. You finally have the courage to look back up at Satoru and see he has moved over to pour a shot for himself, not paying you any attention.

"No, we were having a great time before you walked in," Suguru says in a monotone voice, but you detect the sarcasm interwoven with his words.

"Can't believe you all started without me," he pouts, a whiny tone in your voice.

"You snooze, you loose! Especially with booze," Mei Mei exclaims.

"Oh, Satoru, this is Mei Mei," Yu introduces, gesturing to said girl. He proceeds to introduce Utahime, Shoko, and then you, and you watch Satoru's eyes as they finally land on you again. You smile awkwardly as Yu speaks your name aloud. "And this is Satoru, the final roommate!"

"Nice to meet you all," Satoru says, mock curtsying, causing you to have to hold back a laugh. "Shots?"

The night continues with a very lighthearted tone. The pizza arrives and everyone gathers to eat, a comfortable silence except for light chewing flooding the air. You feel like the liquor helps the atmosphere become more comfortable, the lingering anxiety almost nonexistent, save for the nagging thought your subconscious keeps reminding you of: when you spilled your drink on Gojo's shirt.

You are sitting amongst the living room area, scattered around in a circle around the coffee table. To your right is Yu, sharing a love seat with ample space between the two of you as Shoko is comfortably sat on the floor, resting against the sofa in between yours and Yu's legs. Utahime and Mei Mei sit next to Kento, Satoru seated next to Suguru on the carpet and directly across from you. This makes it both hard to stare and hard not to stare, since he is right in front of you and you don't want him to notice your gaze. He must, though, because you keep making eye contact when he looks over at you questioningly and you realize you have been ogling him again.

After some off-key karaoke and a knock on the door asking everyone to kindly quiet down, a dangerously competitive game of uno takes place. It been a decent distraction from the man across from you, giving something to put your attention on as you are now an round eighteen of the game - Satoru won't allow a new game until he finally wins one.

"It's never going to happen," Kento says as he places his final card down, winning the eighteenth round.

"Round nineteen!" says Satoru with a toothy smile, and everyone in the room groans at the thought.

"No," Utahime asserts. "Mei Mei just fell asleep and i think she's drooling on Kento. Sorry, by the way, Kento."

"All good," he says, but you can see the faint tinge of a blush spreading across his pale face. You spot Suguru giving him a knowing look, and you and him make eye contact, sending each other a silent yet telling message.

"Basically, we should get going," your nursing major friend claims.

"Ugh, but it just got started!" whines the white-haired boy.

"Good thing we have all year. You guys should probably go, anyway. It's getting late and we gotta sleep," Suguru inserts.

"That's okay! I'm getting sleepy anyway," you agree, and conveniently a yawn escapes you.

"It was fun. Thanks for joining us, and very nice to meet you all," Kento speaks as he aids Utahime in helping Mei Mei stand. His arm is around her waist, Utahime supporting from under her armpits.

"So polite," Mei Mei whispers in a sleepy haze and Kento chuckles at the comment.

"Whatever," Satoru all but pouts as he walks with everyone to the door of the suite.

Everyone says their goodbyes, the atmosphere comfortable as if you eight have all been friends for ages, and this was one of many nights saying goodbyes rather than the first one. It was fun, you think, to get to know them. They seem genuine, and you feel lucky to have them living across the hall. It almost feels safer to you knowing they will be right there.

And another plus: they're definitely some good eye candy.

You say goodnight to the girls after reentering your suite, then change and get ready for bed. You lie down before you realize you left your jacket in the guys' kitchen. Groaning at your forgetfulness, you sit up and go to knock on their door, deciding it is better to ask for it back now than forget about it again.

You make your way and knock knock knock on their door. A sense of deja vu hits you from the same sequence of events occurring several hours earlier, yet this time when the door swings open, the man standing there has white hair instead of brown.

"Back already?" Satoru wears his signature grin. His hoodie and jeans has been swapped for a white t-shirt and black sweats, and he holds a glass of water in his hand, which was probably what he was doing and why he was out and not in his room.

"Sorry," you smile apologetically. "I forgot my jacket in the kitchen."

"All good. Come in," he opens the door wider to let you enter. You hurry over and see your jacket right where you left it, hanging on the back of one of their kitchen chairs. You hear footsteps indicating Satoru following close behind.

"So," he says, and you turn around to face him. "Been meaning to ask why you ran off the other night."

Your eyes widen in surprise before you respond, "Oh."

"Oh?"

"Oh."

Satoru stares at you for a minute before you finally regain yourself enough to say, "Sorry about your shirt."

"No biggie."

"Can we pretend it never happened?"

"Deal," he reaches his hand out in an offer for you to take it. "Nice to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you," you giggle and shake his hand to solidify your deal.

And while you've only really just met him, you feel yourself already developing a little crush on the blue-eyed boy.

[silverzoomies]

Alone

peter maximoff x reader fluff

warnings: fluff, humor, first meetings, pining, female reader

word count: 3,461

a/n: just a drabble i spent way too long on. based on something i used to daydream about a lot. happy late valentine's day !!

tag list: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays

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Peter sits, slouched on the floor against the foot of a sofa. Glimmers of light flicker in his eyes, as he indulges in some mind numbing television. Reruns of Frasier play stereotypical laugh tracks, droning through the basement. He can’t help but follow suit. Chuckling along in quiet huffs, he shakes his head.

Upstairs, the house rests in silence. Dead quiet. Magda snores softly in her room. Lorna’s probably conked out too. And Wanda? She’s gone. Somewhere. He could never guess. She doesn’t tell anyone where she goes on weeknights. But hey, what’s it matter to him? So long as she’s playing it safe.

Peter snickers at another corny, sitcom joke. He guzzles down handfuls of Reese's pieces. The candies rustle in their small box. But with the rustle, his ears catch something else. Distant and faint. Outside the realm of television laugh tracks and candy clicks.

It’s a lyrical melody, playing with romantic cadence from outside the basement window. Peter tilts his head back, drinking a glass bottle Pepsi. Fizzy sweetness mildly irritates his throat. Raising a brow, he guides his gaze to the window. One more chug of his soda, and he snatches the remote.

The roar of sitcom television falls into stillness.

And sure enough, a tune whispers from beyond the window’s glass. Like the call of a sea siren through the neighborhood. But it’s 10pm on a Tuesday night. And the likelihood of a smokin’ hot siren crawling from the ocean - to a house in middle class suburbia - is beyond impossible. Unless Peter’s dreaming again.

In which case; wait for him, nautical dames. He'll grab his trunks and be out flash.

And the night goes by so very slow

Oh I hope that it won’t end though

Alone

Peter narrows his eyes at the window, scoffing to himself. Woah, now. Is he warped in the head? Or is the mantra of Heart crying out from beyond the shadows? Peter appears at the window in a zip. Raising himself on his toes, he launches his body upward. Through smudged glass, Peter’s black hues scan the world outside. A shadowy mass looms in the grass, imposing and somewhat terrifying.

Until he realizes, it’s someone holding a giant boombox over their head. Phew .

Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone

Peter’s silver brows furrow again.

“What the hell?” He mutters under his breath.

He unlatches the window, pushing it open. Allowing that unmistakable tune to come through much clearer. Peter watches the mysterious, boombox stranger for a moment longer. A beat passes, and Peter sighs. He could just as easily zip out there, confront the culprit, and return to his basement lickety split. Instead, he opts for the casual approach.

Peter pushes himself through the window, his bare feet scuffing the basement wall. He accidentally kicks over a set of speakers. Some he stole five years ago and forgot about. They tumble off a wall shelf and crash hard onto the floor. Knocking down a bunch of stolen street signs in their wake. If Maximoffs weren’t such deep sleepers, he’d be in for it now. Big time.

As soon as Peter’s out, he stumbles in the grass. Mumbling a hushed - Shit.

You don’t know how long I have wanted

To touch your lips and hold you tight

You don’t know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

Crawling through the dry, winter grass, Peter finally stands. With an exhale, he wipes dirt from his grey sweatpants. The rando in his yard doesn’t react, but they lower the boombox a little. Peter waits at a distance, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“Who are you? Whaddya wannnnnt?” He shouts.

Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone?

No response from the rando. With a simple gesture, they tap the speaker of the boombox. Whatever that means. Rolling his eyes, Peter strides across the cold grass. Shirtless in the brisk, February air. He raises a hand to scratch his messy, silver bedhead. As he moves in closer, the neighborhood street lights illuminate the figure’s features.

Up until now, he thought some weirdo guy snuck out to pine for Wanda’s attention. Peter’s ready to kick his ass if he needs to. Poor Wanda’s always got dudes falling to her feet on Valentine's day. But she usually does the ass kicking. More power to her.

Guess he won’t have to this time. Turns out, it’s just some weirdo girl.

How do I get you alone?

How do I get you alone?

Peter puts a stop to the song before it reaches its end. Extending a hand in a quick blur, he abruptly clicks a button on the box. The neighborhood drowns itself in late night silence all over again. Interrupted only by the occasional car passing in the distance. Peter’s vascular arms cross over his chest. Lidded eyes leer straight at the mystery woman.

“Sooooooooo…” He tilts his head to the side, “Who are you? And why are you playing Heart outside my house at, like, ass-o-clock at night?” Peter pauses, eyes narrowing in suspicious slits, “Are you tryna pick up my sister? ‘Cuz you kinda look the type. And I know she’s been ‘tryin’ new things’ lately.” He gestures with air quotes, “If you catch my drift. Not that it’s any of my business. Point is , she’s not here.”

Boombox girl lowers said boombox down into the grass. She shakes her head, reaching into the pocket of her oversized cardigan.

“Pick up your sis- hah! ” She snickers with a snort, dawning a bashful smile. Boombox girl runs her other hand through her hair, “No! Noooo, it’s not like that! Uhm…I was actually playing Alone for you, silly.”

Peter drops his arms to his sides, and his heart skips a speedy beat. Scrunching his nose, he curls his lip.

“Youplayedwhatforwhonow?” He slides his hands into his sweatpants pockets, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. The apples of his cheeks burn, and Peter clears his throat, “Uhhhh. Okay. Thanks? That’s…sweet, I guess. But, I-I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Her smile’s kind of adorable. Especially as she rubs her neck, displaying timid hesitance. Whatever confidence she had, she must’ve maxed out on 80’s romance cliches.

“Not really? I mean, I’ve seen you around. A lot. But you’ve never really noticed me, so…”

Alrighty then. That makes this interaction even weirder. But Peter’s pulled equally weird - if not more desperate stops to win some hearts in the past. And he may or may not be guilty of the same technique she’s using now.

Give him a break, okay? So what if he took a chance on it once? Back when he was eighteen and leagues more naive. It’s a little cheesy, sure. But it’s also the story of how he lost his v-card. And not the Valentine’s kind.

Case in point, it worked for him. So, he’ll bite.

“And you thought crashin’ outside my house, blastin’ some corny song while my family’s asleep - that’s a smoother move than…oh, I dunno…just talkin’ to me?”

She shrugs again, her guilty eyes looking down at the grass. Boombox girl raises a foot, tapping the ground with the tip of her boot. God, she’s obviously so nervous. And he's not gonna lie, it's a little charming. The corners of Peter’s lips turn up in a grin.

“I thought it might get your attention. You just…you move so fast all the time. And I’m really slow when it comes to these kinds of things. You were always gone before I ever got the chance.”

“How’d you know where I live?” Peter throws her a nod of his head, pressing his tongue to the inside of his cheek.

Pulling her hand from her pocket, she fixes her attention on the plastic case of a cassette tape.

“My uncle tried to arrest you once.” She grins, “He was out on patrol. Saw you steal a speed limit sign. Your mom paid him to let you off the hook.”

Peter’s brows fly up under his bangs. His cheeky smile spreads into his dimples.

“Your unc-...seriously? Whoa. No kiddin’?” He laughs, “Wish I could say I remember. But that sorta thing used to happen to me all the time.”

Not like he wasn’t asking for it back then. But to be fair, Peter’s made some drastic improvements. When it comes to his klepto compulsions, anyway. Excluding the influx of junk food and Garbage Pail Kid cards he snags on a daily basis. From nation-wide chain stores. Totally ethical.

“Yeah, I know.” She giggles, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. This way, he actually gets a good look at her. Soft lips. Pretty eyes, “You used to be the talk of the station, where he worked. Those guys never shut up about you.”

Reaching forward, she passes Peter the cassette in her hand.

“What’s this?” He gently takes it, inspecting the hand-made label inside the case. Decorated in little, lightning bolt doodles. Even some hearts. Aw. Cute. Scratched across it in messy handwriting, are the words - For the kleptomaniac. In exchange for my heart. You stole it forever ago.

Come on. Could she be any more corny?

“It’s a mixtape.” She bites her lip like she’s terrified to keep talking, “It’s cool if you don’t listen to it. I dunno if you’ll even like what’s on it. But I know you carry around that Walkman all the time.”

Uh huh. Did her uncle tell her that too? Get outta here.

“Does it have Heart on it?” Peter flips the case over in his hand, pursing his lips.

“Of course it has Heart on it.”

“Awww. Givin’ me Heart for your heart.” He snickers, turning pinker in his cheeks, “This is legit the cheesiest thing a girl’s ever done for me. I’m kinda buggin’ out right now.”

“Oh yeah? I mean, I can always take it back, if you-” She teases, like she thinks he’s being sarcastic.

She reaches for the tape. But as her fingers brush the case, Peter raises it above his head. The motion happens quickly, before she can even keep up. Boombox girl wasn’t foolin’. She is slow. Slower than a turtle on tranquilizers. As she makes another attempt, Peter drops his hand in a speedy blur.

“Hey, hey, hey. Nuh uh. No takesie-backsies.” He teases, waving a finger, “A trades a trade, babe.”

Her hands rest at her hips, and she flutters her long lashes. So shamelessly flirtatious, but still not enough to win him over. Not just yet. Even if her bedroom eyes offer a tempting invite. Like, seriously, so tempting.

Mama didn't raise him like that, though. Peter has somewhat of a delinquent track record, sure. But he's still a good hearted gentleman. He'll take her out on a few dates first. Treat her to a little arcade romance, before he tries some no pants dancing.

If she's not playing him for a complete jackass, that is. Really, it’s almost too good to be true.

No chick has ever pined for him this hard in his life. And Peter’s never had the chance to play hard to get. He bets dollars to donuts, boombox babe probably isn't a mutie either. Talk about some major role reversal. How often does a human girl beg and plead for mutant man's love? She knows he's a total shut in, right? Or did her uncle not fill her in on that?

“You still have my heart, though.” She coos, gazing at Peter with those eyes.

Those - embrace me, o’ speedster man of my dreams - eyes.

Yeah. Her uncle most definitely didn't break the news. Peter hisses, teasing her again with a click of his teeth.

“Ooooh. Yeah. Well, finders keepers. Good luck shakin’ that silver lovebug.”

He flirts back and forth with her naturally. Kinda like high school sweethearts. It goes on for a few more minutes. Until he's pestered her enough, she just up and quits. Her car's parked down the street. A Volkswagen bug. Hah. And there she goes. Peter's secret admirer stomps off. Boombox swinging at her side. A wave of guilt almost pulls him under, and Peter starts to regret teasing her so much.

She laughs as she walks away. And the call of her giggle brings him back to the surface, much like a song. Seems like the sirens really did come out tonight.

So, she likes playing games too, huh?

You don’t know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

Peter’s not even that much of a Heart fan.

He looks down at the cassette case in his hands. Rolling a thumb over a scratch in the plastic. A beat passes. In a flash, he appears in front of her. Peter walks backwards, padding barefoot along the side of the road.

“So, are you gonna ask me out ‘er what? C'mon, don't be chicken shit. I know you got it in you!” He jokes.

Boombox girl giggles so hard, she breaks out in dorky snorts. Ah, the sexiest, siren song. Too bad that's not a track on the mixtape. He’s willing to slip her some loose change for a raw recording.

By happenstance, another car slows to a stop. Right in the middle of the empty neighborhood street. Colored a familiar shade of scarlet, the vehicle looms for a beat or two. Peter comes to halt, watching as the passenger side window rolls down. Boombox girl crashes right into him.

Shit. Peter just now realized, he doesn't know her name yet.

He grabs her hips on instinct, catching her in case she falls over or something. Her free hand clutches his arm, right over the ‘mom’ tattoo etched into his skin. Naturally, Peter radiates enough warmth to act as a heater. He’s a godsend on cold, lonesome nights. Boombox girl presses her body closer to his, seeking his heat.

Peter knows she does it without thinking, since she whimpers a soft, “ Oh god. I’m so sorry. ”

“It’s cool. You okay?” Peter’s hands linger on her hips.

“What’s going on over there?” Wanda grills playfully from her car. She flits her eyes between her doofus brother, and boombox girl. When Wanda purses her lips, she does so in a way identical to Peter, “Is he giving you any trouble?” She asks what's-her-name.

Peter zips to the passenger side door, crossing his arms over it. Leaning against Wanda’s car through the window, he makes a pfffbbbbtt noise.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Wands. I’m just walkin’ my future wife to her car.” He raises one of his hands, waving the cassette case, “Check it out, ah? She made me a mixtape! Cute, right?”

Wanda’s knits her brows as she tilts her head. The long, scarlet locks of her hair bounce with the motion. At the side of the road, boombox girl makes an adorable squeal. She covers her blistering face with her hands, mewling silent pleas.

“Oh my god stop. I’m sorry I even said anything. Oh my god. ” What's-her-name whimpers.

Which really isn’t helping the whole suspicious sister situation. Wanda leans back in her seat, peering over Peter’s shoulder at boombox girl. Narrowing her eyes, Wanda looks back at him. And before she can call Peter out on his bullshit, he lowers his arms from the door. Peter drops his chin to it, his tapioca eyes gazing up at Wanda innocently.

He chews his lip. In that ‘ I’m obviously up to no good’ kind of way.

“Y’wanna know what that cutie over there told me?” He purrs, talking loud enough for what’s-her-name to hear, "She said I stole her-"

Boombox girl shrieks, “MAXIMOFF! Please! That was a secret! I’m serious! You’re killing me here, dude!”

Maximoff?

Ohhhhh. She doesn’t actually know his name. Seriously? Didn’t what's-her-name say she’s pined after Peter for a while now? How long is a while? Long enough to know his address, apparently. And to know he likes listening to his tunes. And to know he’s a mutant with a rep for thieving. But not long enough for anyone to drop his name? Did the feds never bother learning it? Ouch. Figures.

“Piet.” Wanda leers at Peter, holding him at gunpoint with her eyes, “Leave that poor girl alone. Look at her! She’s had enough.”

Rolling his eyes, Peter stands up straight. Lazily, he smirks, waving a hand, signaling Wanda to drive off.

“Naaaah! You shoulda seen her back at the house. She’s hopelessly in love with me. Played songs outside my window. Y'know, like they do in the movies? I’m serious! You can ask her yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Once more, Wanda shifts her skeptical gaze to what’s-her-name. The mystery girl carries her boombox to her car. With her head dipped and a free hand over her face. She looks like she’s doing the walk of shame. As if Peter stole a little something else from her and-w hoops. That's also not helping his case at all. Wanda hums, doubtful of Peter’s unlikely story.

He cheeses a toothy grin, looking guilty.

“Really?” Wanda adjusts in her seat, reaching for the radio dial, “Well, you might wanna tell her goodnight. For a girl who’s totally in love with you , she seems in a heck of a hurry to leave.”

And with that, Wanda drives off. Peter stumbles back, his calloused heels scuffing concrete. Wanda’s car rolls all the way down the road and into the driveway. Whipping around, Peter catches what’s-her-name opening the trunk of her love bug. As she lifts the boombox into it, Peter zips up next to her. Latching his arms around the boombox, he gives her an aloof grin.

“Can I borrow this for a sec? Thanks, cutie.” He throws her a wink.

She doesn’t get the chance to ask why. Peter zips back to his spot on the side of the road, clicking a button on the boombox. He raises it over his head, letting Heart roar obnoxiously across the neighborhood. Disrupting the late night peace. Out the corner of his eye, Peter notices a few neighborhood lights come on. The song plays just as Wanda hops out of her car. She stops in the middle of her stride to the front door. Her bags hang from her arms and her keys dangle on her finger.

Wanda squints, eyebrows turned inward.

How do I get you alone?

How do I get you alone?

“I TOLD YOU! SHE’S TOTALLY IN LOVE WITH ME!” Peter yells.

A faint, red glow emanates from Wanda’s hand, as she delicately swipes it in the air. The boombox’s tape player pops open with an click, and Peter lowers the box down in front of him. He playfully pouts, muttering a soft booooooo to himself. Abrupt silence fills the entire neighborhood again, save for the local dogs barking in their yards.

“Say goodnight, Pietro.” Wanda’s voice calls from the driveway, before she disappears into the house.

Peter doesn’t even realize what’s-her-name is standing next to him, until she speaks.

“Pietro’s a beautiful name.”

Peter snickers, feeling heat rise in his cheeks again. Popping open the case she gave him, he swaps the tape for the one in the boombox. Rapidly clicking the volume button, Peter huffs a soft laugh, hooded eyes blinking.

"Thanks. I'd say the same about yours, but I don't even know it." He teases. A little shy, Peter keeps his eyes on the boombox, "I go by Peter, actually."

"Peter. Pietro. Whatever your name is, you embarrassed the shit outta me, man." What's-her-name scoffs. Peter kinda likes the sound of both names in her voice, "You're lucky you're gorgeous."

Gorgeous? Whoa. That's a helluva word. Shit, this really is too good to be true. Peter's heart skips another beat, and he shakes his head. "Y'know, if you still what your heart back, you're shit outta luck, babe." Peter clicks the play button on the boombox, only after some tension heavy beats pass, "Like I said, finders kee-"

An all too familiar melody pours from the boombox speakers, softer now.

I hear the ticking of the clock

I’m lying here the room’s pitch dark

“Seriously?” Peter laughs, slinging an arm over boombox girl's shoulders.

“Yeah, seriously. I told you it had Heart.” She blushes profusely, averting her innocent gaze.

Maybe there really is something to these 80's romance cliches. Peter's almost willing to give up his own heart. Just as compensation for hers.

[vintagebunnies]

flowers in december

part i

singledad!eddie munson x teacher!fem!reader

fluff, angst, eventual smut, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, slow burn, mdni (3.4k)

It’s Blythe’s first day of preschool, she has a difficult morning which effects eddie. But then he meets you.

no warnings for this part! just a whole bunch of fluff and very slight angst! (reader is referred to as ms. honey just for the sake of this fic <3)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

the first day.

The soft pitter patter of small sock clad feet echoed throughout the trailer. Eddie was frantically chasing his giggling toddler around, trying to get her to sit still so he could fix her curly, unruly hair.

“C’mon Bly, if you let me do your hair I’ll let you have a cookie before we leave!” Eddie was stressed, trying to gather up his five-year-old for her first day of preschool. Blythe stopped in her tracks at hearing the word cookie. Turning around, she went straight for Eddie’s leg, barreling into him, making him stumble backwards.

“That got your attention, huh?” Even though he felt a bit frazzled, he couldn’t help but smile at his daughter looking up at him with chubby cheeks and her big doe eyes. She inherited a lot of his features, fortunately.

“Cookie! Can I have cookie?” Blythe had Eddie’s pant leg in a white knuckled grip, her chubby little hands grasping onto him tightly. “After, you’ll get a cookie when you let me do your hair.” Eddie bent down to pick her up, cradling her on his right hip, holding the brush and hair ties in the opposite hand.

Moving from the kitchen to the living room, Eddie seated himself on the old sunken in sofa, placing Blythe right in front of him.

Blythe was immediately distracted by the box tv in front of her, currently playing a rerun of ThunderCats.

Eddie was able to quickly put Blythe’s hair into two neat little braids before she became restless. “Okay Bly, you can get your cookie now.”

This caught Blythe’s attention immediately, she turned around to face Eddie, giving him a big toothy smile. Her smile made Eddie smile, giving her a kiss on the crown of her head. Blythe took the opportunity to be an absolute menace, and pull on Eddie’s hair that was halfway draped over her. “Cookie!”

“Hey—ow—you gotta let go of my hair if you wanna cookie,” Eddie breathlessly laughed out, lightly grasping her hands and pulling her off. “Let’s go get you your cookie, you little gremlin.”

Blythe raced Eddie into the kitchen, waiting with her hands on her hips and giving him an impatient foot tap. For a little toddler, she had a lot of fire in her, always keeping Eddie on the tips of his toes.

Eddie broke off a half of the chocolate chip cookie, handing her the smaller half. Blythe was not having it, she furrowed her brows looking up at Eddie with a pout. “Where’s the rest of my cookie?”

“Bly, that’s too much sugar for this early in the morning. You’ll get the other half later,” Eddie imitated her little scowl. “No daddy, I want it now! I want the cookie now!” She stomped her foot, still holding the piece of the cookie in her hand.

Eddie got on his knees to be eye level with her, putting both of his hands on either side of her head. “You’ll get it later, okay? Pinky promise?” Eddie brought his pinky out in front of her, Blythe still donning a pout, brought her smaller pinky into his.

She shoved the cookie into her mouth, getting crumbs all over her rosy cheeks and chocolate on her face, stomping into the living room and climbing back onto the couch.

Eddie stood up from his kneeling position, knees popping from the tension. He glanced down at his watch, eyes almost bulging out of his head from the time. “Shit—Bly, we gotta go honey.” He ran into the living space, quickly shutting the tv off.

“No! I’m not going.” Blythe yelled, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning. Eddie was quickly gathering up all of her stuff, opting to just put her shoes on in the car. He threw her little sparkly backpack over his shoulder.

“Blythe, please. We need to leave,” In reality, they needed to leave ten minutes ago, but time wasn’t a thing with a child anymore.

Eddie absolutely adored Blythe with all of his heart, she was one of the only people he genuinely loved. She was the light of his life. But sometimes, being a single parent is hard, especially since now the trailer was going to be dead silent for the rest of the day. No soft mumbles from Blythe playing with her toys. Just silence.

Eddie knew Blythe wasn’t going to budge on her own, so he just scooped her up off the couch and making a beeline for the heavy steel front door.

Blythe was crying and kicking, trying to get out of Eddie’s grasp. Tears streaming down her face, she yanked on Eddie’s hair, making his jaw clench from the sharp shooting pain.

Eddie didn’t want anyone in the trailer park to wake up from all of the commotion, seeing Blythe crying and in distress would create another rumor about Eddie around the small Hawkins community. Even though she was obviously well taken care of, the people in the town still despised Eddie and would do anything in their power to try to frame him for something that was false.

Blythe let go of Eddie’s hair, now clenching her tiny fists and trying to fight off her father.

Eddie was able to get her into her car seat, safe and secure. Her little body was shaking with small sobs, face red from the oncoming tears. Blythe truly didn’t understand what was going on, all she knew was that she was going to be away from her dad for too long, not wanting to even be a foot away from him.

Eddie quickly got into the car, the sun slowly rising over the clouds, casting a warm glow over the small town.

Eddie was nervous. Anxiously tapping his hands against the steering wheel all the way there, hearing Blythe’s little sniffles the entire time. She calmed down a bit, but she still looked upset. Her lips pulled into a frown, and with her little eyebrows furrowed.

Eddie’s nerves gradually got worse the closer he got to the school, worried about Blythe being made fun of or not making friends. All he wanted was to give her a decent childhood, something he didn’t have. He tried his hardest on giving her anything her tiny heart desired.

Pulling into the school's parking lot, Eddie got a glimpse of the time. Almost eight minutes late. This was definitely not a good starting impression.

“Fuck!” Eddie whispered to himself but not too quietly, as Blythe repeated a quiet ‘fuck’ to herself in between sniffles. “No, no! That words bad, don’t say that Bly,” Eddie looked at her through the rear view mirror.

Luckily, he was able to find a parking spot right in front of the school’s doors, which were still swarmed by teachers.

Eddie hastily jumped out of the car, aiming straight for the back door. He still had to put Blythe’s shoes on her feet, thankfully they were velcro but it was a bit of a heftier task when she kept kicking her feet.

“Look Bly, they light up!” He tried to distract her, finding anything to put her in a better mood.

“I don’t care.” Blythe’s stare was burning holes right through Eddie’s skull.

Thankfully, Eddie was able to get Blythe out of the car a lot easier than it was to get her in, putting her bag right over his shoulder again, holding her much smaller hand in his bigger one.

Blythe was practically attached to Eddie’s leg the entire walk to the front of the school, keeping his hand in her unyielding grip.

Eddie was getting a lot of sharp stares from the teachers chatting at the front doors, not giving him a welcoming greeting like they did for everything else. Eddie didn’t want to seem cold, so he gave them a tight lipped smile.

Eddie made his way over to the front desk, not quite familiar with the layout of the school.

“I’m, uh, looking for, Ms. Honey’s class?” Eddie kept sneaking small glances down at the crumpled notebook paper with the teacher's name written in scraggly handwriting.

The secretary gave Eddie the directions to the classroom, which luckily, wasn’t so far from the front of the school.

The hallways were crowded with sobbing parents and children, the sound of little giggles resonated through the school, and the sound of shoes squeaking on the multicolored linoleum floors.

Eddie was frantically looking around for the proper room number, navigating his way through the crowd.

He was able to find his way, with Blythe’s hand still in tow. Eddie handed Bly her backpack, putting it over her shoulders and kneeling. “I’ll be back later, ‘kay?” Eddie rested his hands over her shoulders, thumbs drawing idle circles over her biceps.

“Why aren’t you stayin’?” Blythe asked with a sad pitiful look on her face.

Before Eddie could answer, he was interrupted.

“Oh my gosh! Look at how shiny your shoes are!” Eddie and Blythe both looked at the same time, but Eddie was sure it was only his heart that was swarmed with butterflies.

You came out of the classroom, bright like a ray of sunshine. A gold dainty necklace adorning your neck, with a small heart pendant resting against the dip in between your collarbones, a white short sleeve blouse that was decorated in little daisies, and a knee length cream colored skirt swaying with your movement.

“What’s your name, little missy?” You were slightly hunched over, hands resting on your knees, looking down at Blythe.

Blythe suddenly became shy, hiding her hands behind her back and tilting her head to the side, resting on her shoulder.

“Blythe.” She mumbled it so quietly it was almost inaudible, but you were listening so intently you heard her just fine.

“Blythe, what a pretty name for a pretty girl!” Your voice was so sweet and soft, a perfect voice for a teacher.

Your compliment got a smile and a blush over Bly’s chubby little face. Her dimples now apparent.

Eddie couldn’t stop staring at you, he thought you were the most beautiful thing. Next to Blythe, of course.

“Thank you.” Blythe whispered.

“And you must be Mr. Munson, right?” You turned your attention to Eddie now, giving him a warm smile.

“Y-yeah, just Eddie’s fine though,” He wanted to slap himself in the face for sounding so awkward, but he couldn’t help himself when you were treating him and his daughter with so much respect and kindness.

“Well, it’s an honor to meet you!” You held your hand out for Eddie to shake, Eddie pulling himself out of the spell you had him under and shaking your hand back.

“Yeah, um, it’s great to meet you too!” He tried to make himself sound a little less inept.

You turned your attention back to Blythe. “Why don’t you say bye to dad and find a seat?” You were still talking to her with such a hushed voice, not wanting to startle her.

Eddie looked down at Blythe, waiting for her to turn around and give him a lung crushing hug. But when all she did was turn to look at him slightly with a frown, and walk into the classroom, Eddie could feel his heart crack right in half. The smile he had on his face quickly fading, now his face filling with hurt.

He knew she didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, she’d be as right as rain when he’d come by to pick her up later.

You immediately noticed Eddie’s mood drop, putting your hand on his shoulder and catching his attention. “I’ll keep an eye on her today,” You gave him a meaningful smile.

“Thank you, really. She wasn’t too thrilled this morning,” Eddie gave an awkward chuckle, ”disappointed that I didn’t give her an entire cookie.”

You giggled.

Eddie smiled at the sound, your giggle sounded like a beautiful spring morning. Colorful and full of life.

You just explained to Eddie what you were planning with the students today. The way you talked sounded like you reread a script multiple times before today, retelling him everything smoothly.

Eddie and you bid farewell to each other, then Eddie waved to Blythe through the doorway.

Blythe was too caught up in socializing with the other kids to notice.

Even though Eddie was visibly stressed from the morning with Bly, he was content with seeing how well she was doing with the other students so far.

Eddie was able to make his way through the lessening crowd, finding his way back to the parking lot unscathed.

When he got in his car, he felt a lot better than he did this morning. Perhaps it was from you. You were able to lift him up with just a small smile and a laugh.

The silence in the trailer felt never ending, it turned Eddie’s once adequate mood sour.

Blythe’s toys were scattered around the trailer. Eddie had a sudden rush of sadness wash over him from not seeing her shoes sitting by the front door.

But he has to keep on reminding himself that Blythe is getting older, she’s going to be gone more often now.

When Eddie was younger, he’d probably just snuff the idea of having a child. Laughing at it with a ‘yeah right’, but here he was, grieving something that wasn’t actually gone.

The familiar loneliness feeling came back full force though, making Eddie plop down onto the old couch with a sigh.

Eddie was delighted with having a day off today. Not that his job was tough anyways, he worked at the local library. It never got crowded, but sometimes the elderly that came by would ask questions about everything. But like always, Eddie stayed patient with them.

Patience is something he learned over the five years with Blythe.

Jesus Christ, five fucking years.

He still couldn’t believe how quickly the years sped by, how quick he was left to take care of a child on his own.

The only good thing he got out of that was Blythe. God, he absolutely loves Blythe. She is his sun, moon, and stars. His sun on a rainy day. He knows that he’s the same to her.

Eddie was absolutely grateful for you too, though. Even though he just met you, he knew immediately that you’d be someone Blythe would look up to.

He smiled at the thought of you. You were practically glowing when he saw you, an absolute angel.

Your voice was like a sprinkle of fairy dust, and your name matched your aura. Ms. Honey.

Eddie didn’t do much the few hours Blythe was away, mainly just pacing around the trailer, sitting on the sofa staring at the peeling paint on the walls, and gathering all of Blythe’s toys that were dispersed around the living room.

Since Blythe was only in preschool, she wasn’t gone for too long. Maybe around four hours at most, but those four hours to Eddie felt like four grueling years. He didn’t know what he would do without her.

That’s what led Eddie to where he is now, getting ready to leave to pick Bly up from school. Except twenty minutes earlier than he needed to.

Eddie was elated to pick up Blythe, anticipating this moment since the second she was born. Knowing that there was still a full ten minutes before the school opened the heavy front double doors, Eddie was constantly checking to make sure Blythe’s car seat was secured in the backseat. Being a single parent surely isn’t simple.

Now acquiring the habits of a parent, Eddie made sure that everything was perfect. No one ever told him how difficult it would be to raise a child, and definitely not on his own.

The sound of doors opening brought Eddie out of his thoughts, directing his attention to the now open school. He quickly staggered out of his car, strolling over to the few teachers standing at the front.

It seems that Eddie wasn’t the only worried parent with the same idea of leaving early, as a few parents were already trudging over to the school.

Eddie quickly went over to the secretary desk, telling the lady his name and who he was picking up. The school's secretary was a nice old lady. A few gray hairs sprinkled throughout her hair, and glasses perched over her nose.

As Eddie started to walk down the hallway, he was fidgeting around with the chunky silver rings that embellished his hands.

Sure, he was nervous and excited about how Blythe’s first day went, but he was also nervous to see you. He wasn’t worried about you looking down upon Eddie, but he was more anxious over the fact that he just met you and already couldn’t keep you off of his mind.

Heavy combat boots squeaking over the linoleum, Eddie almost jumped out of his skin when he ran right into you. You were peeking out of the classroom to see if anyone had arrived, giving both you and Eddie a good scare.

You let out a slight yelp while Eddie let out a small gasp, then both chuckling about the encounter.

“It’s great to see you again, Mr. Munson!” You smiled.

“Same to you, and please, you can just call me Eddie.” Eddie announced.

“Of course, Eddie.” You tested his name out, it felt right to say. Left a sweet taste in your mouth. You noticed a small blush form over Eddie’s face, smiling slightly at that.

“I’ll let Blythe know that you’re here,” You said before turning around and calling Blythe’s name. Eddie just nodded and cleared his throat while you did so, trying to rub away the blush that found its way over his cheeks.

You turned back to Eddie. “She’s just getting her stuff together,” you voiced. “She had a really good day today, very pleasant to have in class.” You grinned, looking up at Eddie from the doorway, holding piles of binders in your hands.

Eddie was now able to notice the small gold rings that decorated a few of your fingers. It was simple, but adorable.

Eddie was abruptly thrown out of the trance you had him in, Blythe came barreling out of the classroom with her hair all frizzy, and her backpack thrown over her shoulders haphazardly.

“Daddy!” Blythe ran right into Eddie’s leg, giving him a big squeeze.

“Hey, sweetie,” Eddie took Blythe into his arms, hugging her close to his chest. Blythe buried her face in his neck, wrapping her chubby arms around his neck. “How was your day?”

“So good, I did finger paint!” Blythe moved away from her spot on Eddie’s neck, showcasing her multicolored stained fingers. She had a huge smile from ear to ear, her eyes were almost closed.

You stood in the doorway watching it all unfold, beaming at the sight.

Eddie definitely looked scary to most, but moments like these made it seem all just a cover up. From the moment you saw Eddie, you knew he wasn’t how the town liked to make him out to be. Of course you’ve heard rumors about the notorious Eddie Munson, local ‘cult leader’.

“I’m glad to hear you had a good day baby.” Eddie left a kiss on Blythe’s forehead. Blythe brought her hands out and took hold of Eddie’s cheeks, leaving a baby kiss on his cheek in return.

Your heart nearly stopped. You wanted to start sobbing, their interactions were filled with pure love and adoration for one another.

“Well miss Blythe, I’ll see you again tomorrow.” You spoke up, smiling at the two.

“Bye Ms. Honey!” Blythe turned around in Eddie’s hold, giving you an exuberant wave. “Now I can get my cookie, right daddy?”

Blythe turned back around to Eddie, her partially toothless smile making him laugh. “I guess you can now.”

“See you both tomorrow,” You voiced, still grinning at the two.

Eddie smiled at you, his big bronze eyes practically had a sparkle in them, gleaming everytime he looked your way. You felt your face flush from his gaze, turning around to gather up the rest of the students.

Blythe was chatting away as Eddie held her close, sharing every detail about her day and what she did. Occasionally mentioning how excited she was for the cookie.

Eddie was relieved that Blythe had a good day and was enthusiastic about going to school now. But he was even more relieved about you.

You were accepting and didn’t grimace at him whenever he walked into the small school.

You were lovely, and he was overjoyed to be able to see more of you.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[jhuzen]

stranger at the rooftop [m.reader]

xiaaaaoooo. i’m writing this so the non-xiao-havers may have him, and those that have him may pull his weapon and c6 him. don’t worry baby i’ll manifest for you ,’;^). i’d like to pull for him but ugh. can’t risk it. on his next rerun maybe. also,,, descender reader,,, a-again? omg. this ought to be a series of one-shots at some point. i’ve also always liked the trope of a healing character helping someone who’s in a similar position as them before. good shit.

There was a gentle lull in the wind that blew past your face. You sat on the railings at the top most place of the inn you were currently staying at. The cold air nipped at your skin and you could care less. There was an alluring flavor that stained the atmosphere, something not even you, who has seen it all, can decipher. You figured this was something that you have longed for other than the possibility of falling to your death with one wrong move from the ledge you were sitting on.

And you could hear the footsteps that ghosted from behind you, likely the owner of this inn that you so graciously infiltrated. You understood his actions however, if a man just barged in and suddenly decided to indulge himself on the ledge of the railings you put up for the sake of safety, that could may as well cause an unwarranted death, you’d be worried too.

The occasional glances born out of pure concern and curiosity wasn’t something that fazed you — and when the innkeeper went back to look after you (quite possibly hoping that you haven’t plummeted to death yet), you finally graced him with a small reassuring smile, that you will be alright and that his business wouldn’t be responsible for a young man falling to his death any time sooner.

Whether or not he took in your little reassurance, you didn’t care for it much.

You stewed in the meek silence that nature has generously offered you — and with every bird that sang a tune, every tree whose leaves rustled with the gentle breeze, and every cricket that filled the deafening silence, you took in with so much gratitude.

You were grateful to be alive.

Not so much at the fact that you were left alone.

Before the winds of Barbatos could even blow it away, you finally took the flower tucked into your ear, something that your comrade gave you just days away before they left you. It was such an unfair gift, giving you something so perishable when it’s supposed to be a memento that you keep for them.

And within the centuries after their passing, you were left with the burden of painstakingly nourishing the spider lily that they left you. But you were no longer in the comforts of your home world. You never stayed in the same place, only opting to welcome a few millennia in a world before finally moving on.

You were so confident that you can keep the flower alive with your greatest efforts. But it seemed that it also wanted to rest after being kept alive for so long by a selfish being such as yourself.

A quiet sigh left your system. I was always bad at letting things go. You admitted to yourself and not a single fiber of your being protested. Perhaps even you grew tired of denying things, continuing to preserve a flower that was long dead, hell you were sure your abilities were the only thing keeping it in a relatively alright appearance. You were certain it actually wilted just days after you were given it.

You ruminated at the moments spent with your comrade. They were your beacon of hope, the reason for your survival, and the reason why you absolutely refused to die. But much like how the stem of this flower was cut off after being plucked by them to gift you, you were also uprooted when they took their final breath. And while you didn’t cry that night, you waited until the remaining warmth in their body left within your grasp.

Your eyes continued to gaze at the spider lily, in a way, it was much like the reenactment of when you cradled your comrade in their final moments. No words left your lips and tears were nonexistent, you can only bask in the numbing feeling it brought you as you watched traces of your magic that kept it alive leave.

“You’re going to fall.”

Quickly, you perked up, head turning to look over your shoulder to see a young man, armed with a shiny polearm and a stance that held defiance and exhaustion all at the same time. You can only crack a smile as you acknowledged his words — they were not brimming with concern, but there was a hint of curiosity within it.

“Oh? Wouldn’t that be a nice treat,” you quipped without missing a beat.

Xiao expected you to apologize and scramble away, but his breath lightly hitched at your words. Are you some kind of a lunatic? He could never point out. And what kind of answer was that? Humans value their life, don’t they? They’re mortals with numbered days on this world and they would do anything to keep it. In a sense, it was also one of the reasons why he exists, to be a protector of the fragile humanity.

So why are you so quick to disregard it?

He tucked his weapon away after sensing that you were barely even a threat to him — only that you made the innkeeper unsettled with your very… risky actions. And while he didn’t appreciate most of his interactions with humanity (most of them were rabid fanatics that kept chasing him to the ends of this nation), he felt strangely drawn to you.

There was a familiar atmosphere that you emanated, an aura so somber wafting around you. And it was something that Xiao understood in all his living days.

You were mourning.

With much reluctance (despite the sudden comfort your familiar actions brought him, he wasn’t one for companionship, at the very least he was merely around Morax or the traveler and the staff of Wangshu Inn), he leaned into the railings, a few feet away from you. Why should he feel anxious? This was his place of comfort, and if anything, you were intruding and should be the one who’s feeling the gnawing anxiety.

A pregnant silence enveloped your lonesome company and neither spoke for awhile. Your eyes were trained to the flower in your hands and Xiao could barely muster the strength to look at you. You encompassed a sense of foreboding that even he could not understand what it was; but then again, when was he ever a master of deciphering emotions other than grief and self-sacrifice.

“If I plummet straight down right now, do you think I can accept the reality of my life within those few seconds before my death?”

You broke the silence and for the second time, Xiao had to do double take. Did you have a penchant for catching people off guard?

It took a good while before Xiao found his voice, finally looking at you (perhaps it was your dubiousness that gave him the courage to finally stare at you), crossing his arms firmly to his chest, “Why? Do you have any intentions of doing that?” He asked. “I don’t think the innkeepers would be too thrilled at the thought of their customer dying.”

Your laugh threw him off of his course, “Then is that a suggestion for me to fall from a height somewhere else?”

“Wh— This is absolute lunacy.” Xiao had to grab every ounce of self-control not to disappear on you right now. “I never said anything.” But I won’t stop you. He meant to say, but was tongue-tied at the last second.

And a part of him wonders why. He can just as quickly dissipate into a black smoke when others pester him, but why do you, a nameless and odd wayfarer make it so difficult for him to do so? There was something prodding at the back of his mind, saying that it was a bad idea to leave you alone, that he has to bear through it and stick it out with you until the end.

“Hah. I jest.” Your laugh filled with unbridled mischief disappeared as your lips curled into a soft and longing smile. “Though I never thought of death until recently. I suppose the motivation to leave the plane of existence never occurred to me until now…” you trailed off before picking up the flower from your lap and showing it to your companion (whose name you still are very much unaware of).

Xiao peered into your cupped hands where a wilting flower sat. He’s never seen one before, and he wonders if it’s a flower from one of the other nations, given that he’s never left Liyue for even a second of his life.

“It’s dying,” he pointed out with a soft murmur. “And you’re letting it?”

“Believe me, my good man, for eons, I’ve tried to keep it alive with all that I have.” Your longing smile turns into something bittersweet, “But it seems even when I can still fight, it no longer wants to.”

“You talk about it like it holds great importance to you.”

You chuckled at his words, what an odd companion you found yourself talking to (unbeknownst to you, he feels the same), “Of course. No one in their right mind would seek out all solutions just to preserve a flower that may have been dead long ago.” And when you were met with silence, you pushed on, “It’s a gift from a friend. A memento to remember them by. Surely you’ve had some.”

Xiao didn’t respond, but he thought back to all the things that he often picked up along his travels through the nation that greatly remind him of his friends, of his family. His mind even drifted to the shrine that was dedicated for Pervases, how he would often find himself resting on its roof just to bask in the scent of incenses offered to his long gone comrade.

“That faraway look in your eyes suggest that I’m right.”

And he wasn’t one to deny it, it would be hypocritical if he did in the first place.

But that was the least of his concerns. Especially when he realizes just how close your situation is with him. It was so close, and yet he could see himself in you. Someone who still hasn’t let go of the past and still dwells on the grief that it almost dictates your life. Someone like him before he went and succumbed into the bed of the chasm when he went to look for one of his friends.

And for some reason, Xiao felt even more drawn to you. He felt the need to stay by your side as he glanced at those eyes of yours that held a millennium worth of pain and suffering. He felt the need to suddenly be around you as he continued to watch you cradle the wilting flower in your hand.

For the first time, Xiao found complete solace in your somber company. You were a familiar stranger, a man of oxymoronic truths that Xiao feels the thrill in discovering. You were standoffish and yet he felt your pull and suddenly he was tasting his own medicine — when he expressed his clear dislike for company and yet people offered him food countless times, desperate for his appearance for even just a second. Your distance closes gaps, as it turns out.

“Have you tried planting it?” He finally asked, after leaving you unanswered for a moment.

You hummed as you softly caress the petals with your thumb, lips slowly forming into a frown as it disintegrates the parts you’ve touch slowly break apart and disintegrate, “This is a flower native to my world… and even then, it only grows under special conditions.” You let out a wet laugh, “And it’s not like I want to, anyway. I suppose it’s finally time to embrace the bitter truth I’ve been avoiding for years.”

Xiao hums as a lone tear drop falls down directly onto one of the petals, destroying it. He doesn’t question it, not when he has felt the same thing when he would find himself at the top of Rex Lapis’ hand-crafted mountains, in need for a blissful comfort that he knows he can never find.

At least, not until now.

And as you felt the last traces of your magic leave the spider lily, it suddenly felt light on your palms, like you weren’t even holding anything in the first place. You lifted your hand up to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss on the flower and watched it crumble to dust before finally blowing on it, watching every ounce of it embrace the winds of Teyvat.

The moonlight above only gave a soft and comforting glow in the midst of the sorrowful goodbye that you had to do and endure and Xiao can only bask in your presence as much as you do to him. How taxing and tiring it was to always be the one to grieve, but at the very least, both of you were glad that throughout all of it, none had succumbed into the fate of numbness that is far worse than suffering through it all.

You wiped away the third and last tear that your eyes could muster in this sad farewell.

You finally got a good look at your companion, finding yourself to be the one who’s absolutely breathless when your eyes met his golden ones, the diamond mark prominent on his forehead. His teal and dark hair blew in the winds and all you could ever think of was how marvelous your stranger-turned-companion was.

A small smile overtook your features, “How curious… you and I share the same fate. And yet it seems you’re taking it far better than I am.”

Xiao couldn’t avoid your eyes even if he tried as his gaze only seem to ever gravitate towards your face, “I’m not an expert… but I’ve grown recently. I’ve had… some help.” He said, mind traversing back to that dreadful time in the chasm.

“Then,” much to the probable relief of the innkeeper, you jumped off the railing and right in front of the adeptus. Without so much of a warning, you closed what little gap you and Xiao have left as you clasped his hands into yours with a gentle touch that almost knocked the air out of Xiao’s lungs. “Would you mind helping me?”

The yaksha looked away from your eager and captivating face, “I already said I’m not an expert…” he grunted, but he answered your pleas either way. “But… I can try.”

Your grip on his hands tightened but there was no sense of discomfort in it, only a loving and reassuring hold, “Thank you, dear stranger.”

“…You can just call me by my name, you know?”

And unbeknownst to either you or the adeptus, you would be calling out to him so tenderly, and he would speak your name like a sacred word so lovingly.

All because you and him crossed paths under the fate of vulnerability.

[villainessprefect]

Hi! I know I already put in an ask so you can ignore this one if you want! I was just going to put in a second one in case there were empty spaces at the end. Please don't feel pressured to write it though! <3 I'd just hate to lose the chance for more of your great stories! lol

If you're okay with it and no one else chooses it (please prioritize theirs first if that happens) I'd love to see my OC named Dakarai with Kalim. (or Kalim and Jamil if you do poly, I don't remember) with the dialogue "I have this weird feeling when I’m with you. I…can’t explain it, but I know it’s a good feeling." (he can either be saying it to Kalim or Kalim could say it to him, whichever you think fits better)

(you don't have to use Dakarai's name or pronouns (he/they) if you don't want to)

Dakarai is Egyptian with darker skin like Kalim/Jamil/Leona. He has long black hair that's curly and green eyes and is similar in physique to Epel. He is a soft boy, though, (unlike Epel lol) and is fluid in his clothing the way Vil is (mostly because his half brother likes designing and making clothes and he ended up as his usual mannequin.) He's on the timid side but can open up once he gets to know someone and can ramble forever about things he finds interesting. He loves reading and learning so his interests jump a lot but he feels really insecure and will stop himself a lot because he's been told he was annoying and stuff before because of it.

I think Da would really admire Kalim for how kind and friendly he is but also really look up to him for how easily he's able to throw himself out there and talk with people when that can be terrifying for Da. (If you put Jamil in it too he would definitely see how smart Jamil is and want to talk with him about his thoughts on stuff and how skilled he is in everything and how good he is about being able to control conversations and social situations so easily).

Of course you can use any or all of this or none of it if you get inspired for other stuff! Even if you don't do it thank you for even offering the event and I hope you have a great Valentine's Day! <3

★ * • .☆  ’ • ⋆

Hello again!! No worries I got you and your request <3

I went with the Fairy Gala as a bit of a plot (and to celebrate its rerun) and used Dakarai as the Prefect (its not explicitly state tho) so I hope thats fine ouo/ I opted out of poly this time since my brain couldn't think of how to get it all together, but I guess at the end you can see a hint of it?? if you squint??

I do hope you enjoy the fic tho <3 and sorry for the bit of wait lol

link to fic here!

[taughtdefense]

sender  shows  up  at  receiver’s  home  late  at  night .

the knock on your front door is enough to pull you out of your bored television watching. you’d just been sort of staring at the tv screen that’s playing some rerun of an old tv show, curled up on the couch. there are dark, prominent circles underneath your eyes. you were tossing & turning in your sleep, so you’d opted to try & watch some tv in your living room until you finally got tired enough to crawl back into your bed. there's too many thoughts swirling around in your head lately, & it makes it hard to focus, hard to sleep. you untangle yourself from the blankets & stand up, heading towards the door.

the last thing in the fucking universe you're expecting is robby fucking keene to be on the other side of the door, a few minutes before midnight. @taughtpain seems to be full of fucking surprises lately. he left miyagi-do, left you & sam & emma & everyone else - his goddamned friends - behind, to go be a part of cobra kai. to the surprise of no one, especially not yourself, he effectively turned into an asshole. now he’s here at your apartment? you instinctively scan him for any injuries, but despite your curiosity as to why the fuck he’s here at this time, you don’t read his mind. he gets one fucking chance to explain himself, & then you’ll slam the door in his face.

silver or kreese would have been a nicer option. or a murderer.

you don’t pull the door open all the way. you don’t want to let him in, that much is clear from how you’re positioned in the doorway. if he barges in like how tory did to the larusso house, then whatever happens will be considered self-defense. your body language is hostile & a little tense, but you still greet him frostily. it’s a stark contrast from how you used to look at him. any shred of love you had for him is dead. ( that's what you made yourself think. )

❝ ...uh, what the fuck are you doing here ? do you know how late it is ? ❞ your voice is as dead as you've felt ever since robby joined the opposing side. you've been entirely emotionless around him whenever the dojos run into each other. you don't even look at him anymore. this house call was unexpected, so you're even more on edge. you pull your phone out of the pocket of your sweatpants, showing him the time. it's 11:42pm by the time you pull your phone out of the pocket, then 11:43pm hits as you turn it around to show him the time passively-aggressively. you peek around the door to see if any of his cobra kai pals are nearby, lying in wait to attack, even if you don’t sense them nearby. the action is more to show robby firsthand that you no longer trust him. he hurt you, & the little part of you that’s selfish, the grudge-holding part of you, wants him to know it. ( thank you for that, wade. )

YOU NO LONGER HAVE ME IN YOUR CORNER.

you roll your eyes. ❝ did tory teach you that you can just show up unannounced at someone’s house whenever you feel like it? like she did to the larusso’s? ❞ you ask coldly, brown eyes narrowing further. ❝ if you’re here to give some big villain speech, do us both a favor & hurry the fuck up. i don’t want you here. ❞ IT HURTS TO SEE HIM. if he's looking for a fight... you'll be more than happy to give him one.

you're not scared of robby, even when he's like this... no longer like the boy you loved. you're hurt. & that's somehow so much worse.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Honey Trap Huntress

Azur Lane has been pretty quiet as of late. Not many Reruns or new Events. I mean, there have been and I've cleaned up or whatever but, so far this year, sh*t has been kind of sparse. Compared to last year, it’s been absolutely anemic. Now, I'm not too mad about it. I’ve been steadily trucking along, working on building up my SN dock, the Seasonal Cruise has gone a long way to finishing that sh*t up, and have even been dabbling with the Itais a bit, just to shore up time, but I'd be lying if i said it’s been rough going. I appreciate the ample opportunity to kind of catch up but, like, what’s up with a Shimakaze or Kronshtadt Rerun? I figure while i wait for Manjuu and Yostar to put out something worth doing, I'd tumble back down that Gacha rabbit hole and see what else is out there. What i ended up landing on was Idle Huntress: Adventure.

Idle Huntress is an unapologetic Waifu Collector. Every costume is Live 2D, the reason i opted to give this thing a shot in the first place, and the overall art is pretty solid. It’s only been a round for a year so the player base isn’t the highest but, at the same time, that means when you start, you have a solid show a developing your Roster fairly quickly. Kind of. I’ll get to hat in a minute. Huntress is an Idle type Gacha which means you accumulate rewards passively. The higher your overall level, he more time you can spend just stacking chips. I’m at level five right now and the max time i have to accumulate Idle rewards is sixteen hours. I read somewhere that it ops out at thirty-six or something but that’s another issue for later. Even though it is an Idle game, there are a ton of other things for you to do. There’s Arenas, Guild Raids, a story mode kind of, Boss Raids, Tower Attack, and a lot more. Beyond that, this thing has one of the deepest customization aspects I've seen in a Gacha. sh*t is a legit RPG in that way and it makes for some pretty time consuming tweaking. Idle Huntress is a JRPG Player’s dream but that sh*t will fast turn into a nightmare if you’re not careful.

he biggest thing holding Huntress back is that level wall. I’ve been playing this thing for six days and I've already got to a point where i can’t pas without dropping them duckets, and sh* ain’t cheap. I have a on of SSR Huntresses, a few f them leveled one hundred, one of them at level one hundred and thirty. I can’ get past the level ten boss. It’s insane. Literally, the way you add Stars, basically raise the overall Level Cap for your Huntress, is f*cking insane and absolutely forces you into a pay-to-win scenarios lest you be stuck grinding out the necessary Puzzle Pieces to actually improve your roster. When i started, i was gifted the SSR Octavia, who is absolutely broken, bu it has been a struggle getting her to four Stars. Bro, there’s six total! The overall cap is two hundred! I still have seventy levels to go and, with the escalation in cost to make these evolution happen, I'm looking at hundreds of dollars and a ridiculous amount of time if i want to max out the other twenty-one SSR Huntresses i have on my Roster! And the only reason Octavia is as far along as she is, is because i get her pieces for accomplishing tasks, LIKE COMPLETING LEVEL TEN! WHICH I CAN’T COMPLETE BECAUSE THE REST OF MY ROSTER IS WILDLY UNDER LEVELED! Also, there’s, like, no resources for this thing online. It’s like pulling eye teeth trying to figure out how to just navigate menus.

Overall, Idle Huntress is fine. It’s a nice waste of time but not something you should really invest in if you have issues with impulse control. his “game” will absolutely violate your pockets, man. The grind is fine until you hit that wall and then it’s just goddamn egregious. I heard Genshin does the same thing, kind of, but i don’t play that so i can’t say for sure. I can say, however, that Idle Huntress is a f*cking trap. It’s a money sink that appeals to the eechiest aspects of our weeaboo personalities. The art, live 2D, and overall RPG aspects are dope as f*ck. I’d be lying if i said i don’t find a weirdly satisfying sense of accomplishment when i level up a Huntress and finally beat a level I've been trying to conqueror for a few days, but f*ck that level wall to all hell. I think I've spent, like, forty bucks on this game and feel like that’s all i want to invest in it. I don’t see myself deleting the game because, let’s be honest, i only have to really log in for an hour a day to cash out the numerous rewards but, if i wasn’t invested in Octavius as a character, i would have dropped this thing day two. Idle Huntress is fine but probably not worth the install unless you can manage monotony as well as i can.

[smokeybrand]

Honey Trap Huntress

Azur Lane has been pretty quiet as of late. Not many Reruns or new Events. I mean, there have been and I've cleaned up or whatever but, so far this year, sh*t has been kind of sparse. Compared to last year, it’s been absolutely anemic. Now, I'm not too mad about it. I’ve been steadily trucking along, working on building up my SN dock, the Seasonal Cruise has gone a long way to finishing that sh*t up, and have even been dabbling with the Itais a bit, just to shore up time, but I'd be lying if i said it’s been rough going. I appreciate the ample opportunity to kind of catch up but, like, what’s up with a Shimakaze or Kronshtadt Rerun? I figure while i wait for Manjuu and Yostar to put out something worth doing, I'd tumble back down that Gacha rabbit hole and see what else is out there. What i ended up landing on was Idle Huntress: Adventure.

Idle Huntress is an unapologetic Waifu Collector. Every costume is Live 2D, the reason i opted to give this thing a shot in the first place, and the overall art is pretty solid. It’s only been a round for a year so the player base isn’t the highest but, at the same time, that means when you start, you have a solid show a developing your Roster fairly quickly. Kind of. I’ll get to hat in a minute. Huntress is an Idle type Gacha which means you accumulate rewards passively. The higher your overall level, he more time you can spend just stacking chips. I’m at level five right now and the max time i have to accumulate Idle rewards is sixteen hours. I read somewhere that it ops out at thirty-six or something but that’s another issue for later. Even though it is an Idle game, there are a ton of other things for you to do. There’s Arenas, Guild Raids, a story mode kind of, Boss Raids, Tower Attack, and a lot more. Beyond that, this thing has one of the deepest customization aspects I've seen in a Gacha. sh*t is a legit RPG in that way and it makes for some pretty time consuming tweaking. Idle Huntress is a JRPG Player’s dream but that sh*t will fast turn into a nightmare if you’re not careful.

he biggest thing holding Huntress back is that level wall. I’ve been playing this thing for six days and I've already got to a point where i can’t pas without dropping them duckets, and sh* ain’t cheap. I have a on of SSR Huntresses, a few f them leveled one hundred, one of them at level one hundred and thirty. I can’ get past the level ten boss. It’s insane. Literally, the way you add Stars, basically raise the overall Level Cap for your Huntress, is f*cking insane and absolutely forces you into a pay-to-win scenarios lest you be stuck grinding out the necessary Puzzle Pieces to actually improve your roster. When i started, i was gifted the SSR Octavia, who is absolutely broken, bu it has been a struggle getting her to four Stars. Bro, there’s six total! The overall cap is two hundred! I still have seventy levels to go and, with the escalation in cost to make these evolution happen, I'm looking at hundreds of dollars and a ridiculous amount of time if i want to max out the other twenty-one SSR Huntresses i have on my Roster! And the only reason Octavia is as far along as she is, is because i get her pieces for accomplishing tasks, LIKE COMPLETING LEVEL TEN! WHICH I CAN’T COMPLETE BECAUSE THE REST OF MY ROSTER IS WILDLY UNDER LEVELED! Also, there’s, like, no resources for this thing online. It’s like pulling eye teeth trying to figure out how to just navigate menus.

Overall, Idle Huntress is fine. It’s a nice waste of time but not something you should really invest in if you have issues with impulse control. his “game” will absolutely violate your pockets, man. The grind is fine until you hit that wall and then it’s just goddamn egregious. I heard Genshin does the same thing, kind of, but i don’t play that so i can’t say for sure. I can say, however, that Idle Huntress is a f*cking trap. It’s a money sink that appeals to the eechiest aspects of our weeaboo personalities. The art, live 2D, and overall RPG aspects are dope as f*ck. I’d be lying if i said i don’t find a weirdly satisfying sense of accomplishment when i level up a Huntress and finally beat a level I've been trying to conqueror for a few days, but f*ck that level wall to all hell. I think I've spent, like, forty bucks on this game and feel like that’s all i want to invest in it. I don’t see myself deleting the game because, let’s be honest, i only have to really log in for an hour a day to cash out the numerous rewards but, if i wasn’t invested in Octavius as a character, i would have dropped this thing day two. Idle Huntress is fine but probably not worth the install unless you can manage monotony as well as i can.

[moonyoona]

It wasn't every day Yoona indulged herself in the party lifestyle, but then again Halloween only happened once a year and she had always had such a deep rooted love for the holiday so she guessed it was only right that she enjoy herself. Scary movies terrified her, so she wouldn't be staying up late at night to watch any of them, she was far too old for trick or treatjng but going to a party? That she could do. Dressing as someone for an evening, sipping on delightful cocktails while live music played as the soundtrack to the evening sure beat her usual evening routine of watching old reruns on her sofa after a poor attempt at making herself a meal.

Always having had a keene eye for for movies, Yoona had dressed as a character that prehaps wouldn't be all that memorable to anyone else other than her, but bright pink jeans cut into shorts while the rest of the pant leg rested lower on her thigh, the lilac cropped top paired with an ever so slightly longer magenta one would be enough for any Fast & Furious fan to recognise her as Suki from the franchise. Happy with her attire, she'd entered the party with an air of excitement about the evening.

Rather than heading straight to the dance floor where she'd spotted plenty of other people moving to the beat of the music, she'd opted to indulge in a little liquid courage before climbing into the lions den. She'd only just settled near the bar when she heard someone speak out to her, his voice seeming to effortlessly carry across the music, though if she had to guess, she'd play it safe by saying he must have been talking in a louder tone than he was used to. "Hi!" She called out with a smile. "I just got here, but now you mention it maybe I should try them. Do you have any recommendations?" Yoona knew Jasper, in passing if not personally. He wasn't a hard person to miss. Scanning her dark optics around the lively room, she turned to him while leaning against the bar, patiently waiting her turn. "You sure know how to throw one hell of a party. It'll be hard to top this next halloween."

˚⋆𓇼˚｡ 𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹 @aurorabaystarter

— THE SEASCAPE HOTEL’S HALLOWEEN PARTY ; EVENING OF SATURDAY 26th OCTOBER

This week in particular Jasper had barely contained his excitement for the party he was hosting at the hotel: the first in three years. Sharky’s had been a blast, but now it was time for him to take the reins and throw another memorable and incredible party for the people of Aurora Bay. He'd spent almost two months meticulously planning the event, ensuring everything would be ready and perfect and that he could relax for the night.

Jasper was dressed in a 90s suit that had a fake FBI ID badge with an image of a young David Duchovny clipped to the pocket, a pair of fake glasses, and an ugly patterned tie to complete his Fox Mulder costume (he'd been a fan of 'The X Files' ever since it aired and was giddy to be dressing as his favourite character from it). He loved to see that a lot of the guests had also donned a costume, some he thought he recognised from Sharky's and some which he'd never seen before.

Jasper was near the bar when, over the loud live music, he turned to the nearest person and offered them a charming smile. "Hi there. Have you tried the Halloween themed cocktails yet? If so, you have to let me know what you think- call it a survey of sorts- and if not... well, what are you waiting for? They're two-for-one!"

[prettyyoungandbored]

Normalcy [Steve Harrington]

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Steve and Y/N are enjoying newlywed life. That is, until, news from back home brings back old anxieties.

Warnings: Cursing, light mentions of sex, anxiety, slight panic attack

NOT MY GIF

Y/N sat on the couch, a hot cup of tea in her hand. The only light in the living room was the television, which played a rerun of some sitcom.

She had come home early and was waiting for the pizza to arrive. She knew she and Steve were in desperate need of a night in. Just the two of them.

The last time they had any peace to themselves was during their honeymoon. They had gotten married six months prior and the second they returned from their honeymoon to their shared apartment in Indianapolis, life had been hectic. Between their respective jobs, friends, and family, it was rare they had some quality alone time.

When they did, they made the most of it.

She poured a glass of wine in the kitchen as she listened to some show that was playing on the television in the living room.

“Baby, I’m home!” Steve called out as the door opened.

She went over to him, greeting him with a kiss and wrapping her arms around his neck. “How was your day?”

“Not too bad, but I was ready to come home. How about you?”

“Same old stuff. I actually managed to sneak away early which was nice.” She rest her forehead against his. “I just couldn’t wait to see you. I’ve been missing you.”

“I’ve been missing you too, hun. More than you know.” He kissed her lips. “How is it that we’re married and live together, but still miss each other?”

“Because life always finds a way to cockblock us.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Cockblock? I thought we were having a nice, quiet night in.”

“Oh I never said anything about being quiet.”

She smirked, pulling back as he went to pull her in. He cradled her face in his hands. “Is that code for getting started on that little family of ours?”

She shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. You have time to persuade me.”

“Challenge accepted.” He pecked her forehead. “I’m gonna take a quick shower.”

“Sounds good! I’ll let you know when the pizza gets here.”

As Steve went into their bedroom, Y/N heard a knock at the door. She went into her purse, grabbing her wallet.

She grabbed the box from the pizza boy and handed him the cash. She closed the door and set the pizza down when the sound of the television caught her attention.

“Tonight, a search is underway in Indiana for a missing teenage girl. Allison Vale disappeared from her small town of Hawkins…”

Y/N’s eyes widened, heart dripping down to her stomach. She rushed over to the living room to see a picture of a teen girl. Just when she was starting to think she was going crazy, she notice the teen girl wearing a Hawkins cheerleader uniform.

“Oh shit,” she mumbled.

“The 16-year-old was last seen leaving the high school after cheerleading practice. Friends of Allison said she turned down a ride home, opting to walk. Her parents said she never came home.”

Waves of deja vu crashed over her. She could feel the thick, humid air of the Upside Down surround her. She could smell its damp maple aura and for a moment.

A woman identified as Allison’s mother appeared on the screen.

“We just want our baby girl back,” she pleaded, shaking. “Give her back. GIVE HER BACK!”

“Hawkins has made headlines in the past, for incidents many called paranormal-.”

Y/N shut off the tv and sighed. Her heart raced as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She wiped her eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

“It’s ok,” she whispered to herself.

She eyed the phone, debating whether or not to call Will. Maybe he felt something? She couldn’t bring herself to move. Who was she to burden him?

Maybe she could call Hopper. He would know, surely he would. Still, she couldn’t move.

“You ok?”

She let out a gasp, Steve’s voice knocking her out of her thoughts. She put a hand on her chest, letting out a passable chuckle.

“Sorry, I got lost in my own thoughts,” she replied.

She couldn’t burden him with it. Not now.

And yet, she couldn’t sleep. So here she was, sitting on the couch. It wasn’t for a lack of trying. She tried her damndest to focus on the night and for the most part, it worked. They had dinner, had wine, enjoyed each other’s company, had sex - the night was great.

But the second the lights were off and Steve fell asleep, she was back to her thoughts. No matter how hard she tried, her mind wouldn’t shut off.

She considered waking Steve, but knew he needed the rest. So, she put on Steve’s hoodie, slid on some underwear, and made her way to the kitchen to make some tea before settling into the couch.

She eyed the frame hanging on the wall. On one side was a photo of her and Steve at their senior prom, the other side was a photo of them on their wedding day.

They had come so far. They worked out their shared traumas of the Upside Down. They built a new life together. They were settling down, considering having a baby.

All that progress, just to go back?

“Baby?”

She looked up to see Steve coming out of their bedroom, his eyes filled with sleep. He was wearing sweatpants “What’re you doing out here?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

He sat on the couch and pulled her to his lap so she could nestle her head on his shoulder. He grabbed the remote and turned off the television.

“You’ve been a little bit off since I’ve got out of the shower,” he told her. “I wasn’t gonna say anything, ‘cause I saw you were really trying to hide it, but now you’re scaring me. Talk to me.”

She sighed and rubbed her face. “I saw on the news a teenage girl in Hawkins went missing and it…I just…”

Hot tears stung her eyes as she wiped the ones tried that tried to escape.

“You were triggered,” Steve nodded. “I get it.”

She shook her head. “Yeah, but…the way they were talking about her, how she went missing. I mean, this is how it all starts. She walked home and…”

Her chest grew heavy, throat closing in. “What if he’s back? What if the Upside Down got reopened? I thought we killed him. I thought it was over.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I was there. I swore we did too.”

He rest his forehead against hers. “I heard about it earlier today. Some guys at the office were talking about it. I called Hopper and he said no one really knows what the situation is, but he, Joyce, and Murray are keeping their eyes peeled. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to stress you out. I wanted to wait until I had some idea of what was going on.”

“It’s ok, Steve,” she assured. “I considered calling Hopper too. I also considered calling Will, but after what he’s been through I couldn’t bring myself to stress him out.”

“Probably for the best,” he agreed. “Look, it may not be related. It could honestly be a kid went missing because she ran away or was kidnapped.”

“That’s what they said about Will and Barb,” she reminded him.

He nodded, sighing. “I know.”

She pulled back her lips. “While we’re on the topic of things we were afraid to tell each other, every time we talk about having a baby…I keep thinking, ‘What if we have a baby and something happens and they need us?’ What do we do then? What do we do? Drop the baby off at my parents and say, ‘Can you watch our kid? We have to go deal with monsters and shit.’ I mean, Steve, say it comes back when we have a baby. There’s a bigger risk than our lives. We risk our child losing one of us or both us.”

Steve nodded his head, closing his eyes. “I think about that too and it scares the shit out of me.”

He opened his eyes. “But I also know you and I know how to handle it. We’ve done this before and if we have to do it to protect our child, we will.”

“We’re not teenagers with nothing to lose,” she reminded him.

“You’re right, but back then I had a lot to lose.”

“Like what?”

“You.”

Her cheeks warmed as she felt a small smile play on her lips.

“The first time, I wanted to survive to be with you.” He pointed to their prom picture. “The second time, I wanted to survive so we could go to prom together and graduate together. The third time, I wanted to survive to because I wanted to you go to college and give you the future you always deserved. The fourth time, I wanted to survive to run away from that God awful town with you. The fifth time, I wanted to survive because I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. I went in ready to fight for you, for us, for this life we’re building.”

Her tears of anxiety turned into tears of love. “I fought for you too. I fought for us.”

“I know you did,” he said, smiling warmly at her. “And if we have to do this a sixth time, I say we fight to survive for our future child.”

She nodded, her anxieties washed away by reassurance. “I love you.”

“I love you too. That’s why I married you.”

She cackled. “Is that the only reason?”

He shrugged. “There were other factors I considered.”

She gently punched his arm and he kissed the top of her nose. “Hey, promise me next time we don’t hide this from each other? That goes for me too.”

“Agreed.”

He kissed her lips before giving her squeeze. “Let’s go back to bed, yeah? When we get up we’ll grab breakfast across the street.”

“Works for me.”

He got up, carrying her bridal style as she swung her arms around his neck

But just as they reached the doorway, their home phone rang.

[teddyrb]

Hot water bottles and tea

Eddie Munson x Gn!Reader

Genre - Fluff

Warnings - Periods.

Summary - Eddie helps his partner through the pain of menstruation.

A/N - I only used They/Them pronouns, I chose not to reference the reader bleeding because I read that whilst transgender women don’t get periods explicitly, hormone therapy can cause PMS symptoms and I wanted to be inclusive of that. I hope that this is okay.

Word count - 2,004

Eddie's Uncle Wayne had let you into the trailer on his way out for work. You didn't look the most presentable but you were in too much agony to care. Eddie's messy bed made you opt to lie down on the sofa instead. Eddie was at practice for Corroded Coffins but they would finish up soon and Eddie would get back to the trailer.

Your head was pounding and the cramps were unbearable but you lacked the motivation to move around the trailer to look for some Advil which left you simmering in the pain. Since Wayne had been sleeping during the day the curtains had been closed, which helped your head massively.

The television remote was arms length away from you, it was playing reruns of a show you had never seen. You could stand it for five minutes before the laugh track agitated your migraine and you turned the television off before you could find yourself throwing the remote at it.

You dropped the remote by your side and waited, getting your hopes up that Eddie was back every time you heard a car enter the trailer park. The pain became especially harsh when the trailer door opened and the light from outside spewed in. You were quick to cover your eyes with the crook of your elbow and your exhaled groan alerted Eddie to your pain. Eddie closed the door as quietly as he could and made his way over to where you lay. The doe eyed boy crouched in front of you and moved your arm away from your face. "It's okay, I've closed the door." He spoke softly towards you and smiled at you empathetically when you looked towards him. "Hi, baby."

"Hi." You pouted at the boy, which only made his smile widen in adoration. To Eddie you were the most precious person in the world and he would do anything you asked of him if it meant you would be happy. "Is it okay if we could be quiet, for today? my head hurts really badly but I've wanted to see you all week."

He looked at you concerned. "Are you sick or something?" He moved his hand over your forehead but couldn't feel a fever.

You shook your head lightly, wincing at the pain it caused. "Or something. I really don't want to get into this with you, no offence. I just don't feel comfortable telling people." Eddie nodded his head at your answer, you didn't have to tell Eddie what was going on, your desire to not answer was enough.

Eddie made his way over to the stove and began boiling some water, he looked around quietly getting a cup out and continuing his venture until he found a hot water bottle in a cupboard. He moved himself back over to the stove before pouring the water into the cup and using the rest to fill the hot water bottle. Wayne liked you - he thought you were good for Eddie and he thought you gave him the motivation to graduate - Eddie took that to mean his uncle wouldn't mind letting you use his favourite mug or brand of tea if it made you feel better. Eddie waited a couple of minutes for the hot water bottle to cool a bit, as to not but your skin, before he manoeuvred himself back over to you. "I've got you some tea, I put it in the biggest cup we've got and I found this to help you with your cramps." He whispered, holding up the hot water bottle before placing it down on your stomach. You adjusted the bottle moving it lower down and sighing in relief when you could feel it ease your pain.

"Thank you Eddie, but how did you know I had cramps?" You looked at him, embarrassed that he knew what was happening to you.

"We'll baby, you don't go through senior year three times and not learn about period symptoms." You winced at the clarification that he did indeed know that you were on your period. "Also, Wayne sat me down when he realised how serious we were and gave me a talking to about making sure I was treating you properly." It warmed your heart to hear that Wayne wanted to make sure you we're being treated properly.

"Your uncle does know that you're head over heels in love with me, right? I mean you once cancelled your D&D meeting because I was sick and wanted to watch some movie I didn't have at home, so you got Steve and Robin to wait around after Family Videos had closed for the night so that you could bring it to me." You smiled at the memory before leaning yourself towards him and kissing him softly. The angle of your body made the hot water bottle fall off your stomach and onto the floor, Eddie pecked your lips again before he moved the bottle back to were you had left it.

"He knows that, it was more about other things that he wanted to cover." The undertone wasn't subtle and it made you go red again with embarrassment, Eddie giggled adorably at your reaction. "How would you feel about moving to my bed and then I can cuddle with you, hmm?

"No, your bed's a mess, I already went in there. Maybe if you cleaned it up and opened your window so your room didn't smell like cigarettes all the time." You didn't intend to but your voice sounded full of judgement. The tea was certainly helping your migraine but it would take a lot more for your mood swings to pass. "Sorry baby, I'm just in a lot of pain. I didn't mean it." He understood, not literally but he'd experienced pain before in his life and he knew that it all you really cared about right now was trying to make the pain disappear.

"It's okay, I know it's a bit of a mess. I'll clean it up a bit and open my window for you, yeah? And then we can cuddle, okay?" He spoke quieter, realising that his volume had slowly crept up, which was only adding to your discomfort. You nodded at him and he smiled his most cheesy smile. "Okay then, lets do that. Did you take anything, I don't have any Advil or anything like that but I can call Gareth to pick up some stuff if you need anything, he owes me one anyway."

"No, I didn't have anything at home, the pharmacy was closed when I went by before school and Max said I could get a lift off Nancy with her if I wanted to see you after school, I didn't want to ask in front of all the kids. Would Gareth not mind, if you asked him to pick up some Advil?" You didn't want to inconvenience him but you mainly just didn't want him to work out why you needed it.

"I got Gareth some drum sticks when he broke his, he said he'd owe me a favour. All I'm doing is collecting it, I won't tell him who there for and honestly the kid wouldn't be able to work out even if I did, okay? I'll call him and get him to pick it up, yeah?" You nodded in agreement.  "Is there anything else you need, do you want him to get you something else?" You shook your head this time. "Okay, I'll go call him and get my bed cleaned up. You just lie there and rest, baby."

You could hear Eddie talking on the phone, his voice got serious at one point but you soon heard him crack up laughing so it wasn't a serious problem. Before long they were saying their goodbyes and Eddie made his way to the back of the trailer. You heard his moving around in the back for five or so minutes before he returned back to your side.

"Uh, is your hot water bottle still hot?" He asked placing his hand on the bottle to find out for himself. "Yeah, it's okay. Do you think you can walk over there or, um, do you want me to carry you?" He was genuinely concerned and it made you laugh.

"God, Eddie how bad do you think it is. I'm perfectly capable of walking thanks, but if your offering to carry me I won't object." He smiled at you mischievously before he picked you up bridal style, making sure you didn't drop the hot water bottle and letting you grab your tea from on the window sill before hecarried you back towards his bedroom. He placed you on the bed lightly and allowed you to adjust yourself before he got into the bed, smiling down as you readjusted yourself to lie on top of him. "Wow, Munson, you cleaned up for me. You must really like me, huh?"

He smirked, leaning down to kiss your hair. "You know what, maybe I do. Maybe, I even love you." He started humming, it was one of his songs. He hadn't finished writing it so it was odd in places - it didn't have the best syncopation because he didn't have everything in order. He usually enjoyed singing the songs to you, sometimes you'd help him with the word choice, other times you'd sit and read the words - laughing at the notes he'd made in the margin - before handing the notebook back and telling him you loved it, it was always perfect in your eyes. He hummed this time, he didn't want to hurt your head and he though it would be the best way to not have you yell at him because of your mood swings, there was a consistency for the most part and you found yourself humming along with him until he'd hum something unexpected and you'd stop to listen.

Gareth finally knocked on the door after half a dozen of the bands songs, you we're sleepy but Eddie's movement under you had you sitting up and rubbing your eyes. Eddie stood up, he lent down to kiss you and the two of you were content until Gareth knocked on the door louder, drawing the two of you apart. Eddie was muttering under his breathe about Gareth's impatience, you giggled at the irony, knowing that Eddie was the most impatient person in Hawkins if not the entirety of Indiana. He walked to the door and opened it, he and Gareth had some small talk before you heard the door close and Eddie was back with you in the doorway.

Eddie was holding more than just Advil, you could smell your favourite fast food from the paper bag that Eddie had with him. "Did you seriously send Gareth to get me fast food. I don't know whether I should feel bad for him or tell you how much I love you."

"Well, I prefer the second one." Eddie smiled widely at you. "Have you drank your tea or has it gone cold by now?" He asked.

"It's cold, but I can still drink it, don't worry. Just give me the Advil and then we can eat, I'm starving, I haven't eaten anything since lunch time." You brought your arms out for Eddie to hand you the food and medicine, which he gave to you before he sat back down. You opened the Advil and took one before delegating the food between the pair of you.

Soon enough your migraine was unnoticeable and your cramps had subsided meaning you and Eddie were able to hang out like you usually did - you, sprawled out on top of him as he breathed in the smell of your shampoo. "I'm really happy you still came here even though you're on your period." He spoke into your hair.

You shifted yourself to look up at the boy. "It's because I feel like I can face anything when I'm with you, Eds." You spoke.

Eddie lent down and kissed you. "I'm glad."

[andtheyweresiblings]

Mirabruno and Touch Headcanons

Let’s talk about touch-starved Bruno versus grew-up-in-a-physically-affectionate-family Mirabel. Mirabel is just naturally more physically affectionate, so she’s always casually touching Bruno. Initially, it’s purely familial, but regardless, it always throws Bruno because he didn’t experience human touch for over a decade and before that, his family became a lot less affectionate towards him after he consistently told “bad” prophecies to the townsfolk and ruined weddings.

I think Mirabel picks up on the fact that Bruno is touch-starved and the effect touch has on Bruno, so she starts initiating touch more because she knows how important touch is to her and the other Madrigals. It breaks her heart knowing he was robbed of this love language all because he was sorely misunderstood.

It’s little things at first—maybe extended hugs when greeting each other and the touching of an arm during a conversation—but as she becomes more comfortable with him, she starts incorporating bigger gestures of touch. Like snuggling up to him while watching his rat telenovelas with the rest of the family. I think within the family, none of that seems out of the ordinary; they come across as a very touchy-feely family in the movie.

I think Mirabel and Bruno would probably be fine with this level of touch for a while too.

The descent from the familial realm and into the more romantic realm is so gradual and not intentional that it takes some time for either of them to realize what is going on.

The first line that is crossed is when Mirabel falls asleep against Bruno during a telenovela rerun. It’s late enough that everyone else has gone to bed and Bruno has a choice to make; wake up Mirabel or wait for her to wake up. Not wanting to disturb his sobrina, he opts for the latter option and ends up falling asleep himself. When they wake up, they laugh it off, and Mirabel insists that Bruno can wake her up if she does something like that in the future.

This of course, is not the last time this happens, and Bruno finds that he really enjoys the physical closeness and that his sobrina trusts him enough to fall asleep on him. Mirabel secretly likes it too, so she sometimes forces herself to stay up longer to chance falling asleep on her tío’s shoulder.

The line between familial and something more officially blurs on one such occasion in which, after falling asleep on Bruno, Mirabel wakes up from a nightmare relating to the trauma that came from the family dynamics they are all still healing from. Mirabel has these every so often and can cope with them on her own, but Bruno is right there, looking so concerned for her. So there she stays quietly crying into his shoulder, cuddling closer to him as he tries to soothe her, whispering and caressing her hair.

This inevitably leads to more cuddling outside of the family sofa because Mirabel liked it and doesn’t really think too much about the implications, and Bruno is really good at talking himself into why this is a totally suitable thing for him and his sobrina to do, especially since it only really happens when one of them is stressed out or upset. They’re just soothing each other. It still doesn’t explain why they both seem to know to do it when the rest of the family isn’t around, but hey, it’s just cuddling.

At this point, Casita is invested in these two mutual in-denial disasters, so maybe it helps them along with some other line crossings. Like maybe Mirabel’s decorating the house for an upcoming event, and Casita subtly destabilizes her while Bruno is passing by so he has to catch Mirabel to prevent her from falling.

Maybe at a party, Mirabel and Bruno are dancing together as family members might, and Casita moves some tiles around so that they fall into each other and it makes sense to just hold each other closer while Casita continues to “dance” along to the music around them.

Since Mirabel already loves to dance, I think this would lead to them dancing together in more casual settings. Oftentimes, it’s Mirabel teaching Bruno different dance styles because dance was something he never got into when he was younger, and let’s face it: music and dance is Mirabel’s real love language.

As it turns out, Bruno is not the greatest dancer, but he has fun because it’s with Mirabel, his sobrina who brought him home. And she looks so happy when they’re dancing or when she’s playing the accordion, and he’s just so happy to be a part of someone else’s happiness for once. So what if he’s start to feel things he shouldn’t towards Mirabel? He can push those feelings down, and he will. He will if that means he can stay near her.

[qtipcottonbuds]

𝙋𝙍𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙔 𝘽𝙊𝙔.

here’s a somewhat shortish fic - i genuinely really enjoyed writing this, i guess it’s also a bit of a vent fic, as when i was much younger (around 9-10) i used to suffer with really bad eczema on my hands, and upper arms and would reappear during certain months too and was bullied for it - and this is based loosely on a good friend’s interaction with me when she used to hold my hand and wasn’t disgusted at all, honestly i love her to bits, anyhoo !!!!

of course too, this is a quirkless au otherwise he'd lit rally end u fank yew

warnings for slight self-inflicted harm, angst, comfort, insecurities and fluff !!

by qtipcottonbuds 2021. do not repost.

𝗧𝗢𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

Tomura knew that you were starting to catch on to his mannerisms; swiftly pulling away his hands at any opportunity you’d opt to reach for them, instead settling for interlocking his arms with yours. He also knew that it was just hand holding, nothing too major, and rationally shouldn’t be such an issue - as a touch-starved man, receiving physical affection from you was a highlight in itself - so this was just, of course, being pathetic.

It was just (stupidstupidstupid; he opts to clench his fists above the shared blanket, the pair of you curled together with a rerun of American sitcoms continuing into the early hours of the morning, avoiding the frequent nagging feeling to pick the already tender skin just shy of his cuticles) hand holding.

But hand holding is for people with pretty hands, dainty, delicate hands; for people who have soft hands, large hands; hands that aren’t covered in split skin, covered in raw open sores where the skin refuses to meet, stinging at brief but simple muscle movements; hands that aren’t dry and scaly, previous openings of skin slowly closing in on itself only to open back up again at the smallest puncture; hands that ultimately don’t have blunt nails, to reopen the wounds in moments of frustration to ground himself, blood often decorating his palms from the chafed skin being skinned raw.

Tomura knows he doesn’t have pretty hands. 

He doesn’t want you to know, either. But he knows you’re onto him.

And Tomura knows he should admit to himself that he is insecure, and just maybe, a little ashamed; if he took better care of himself maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess, and then he’d have pretty hands too.

He notes the sensation of you shuffling slightly, mismatched socks snug in between his own, warm and radiating heat, the feeling of your gaze on him - he doesn’t want to look, can’t bring himself to, deciding to continue to pretend his immersion in the sitcom - hands starting to sweat from unease.

“Baby?”

Tomura doesn’t want to know the look of disgust on your face, he knows his hands aren’t pretty, he knowsknowsknows-

He can feel your smaller palms gently pulling his fists away from the clutches of the blanket, “Could I look at your hands for a minute? They’re bleeding,” your thumbs now massaging the juncture of his wrist.

Glancing down, Tomura realizes the extent of his damage once again, the tips of his fingers now somewhat stained in small blotches of blood - he can’t avoid it this time, hesitating at what he believes to be an expression of revulsion, and opening his palms, tacit and unspoken.

Throat itchy, tongue glued to the roof of his mouth, he offers a, “It’s not contagious, or anything,” now internally wincing at the stupidity of the answer. 

“I know, you dummy,” staring at you in confusion, taking note of the small, kind smile you offer him in return - eyes trailing over the coarse skin, “Wait here for me, ‘kay?” before you haul yourself from the confines of the couch, padding over to the bathroom, sounds of worn hinges and handles being pushed and pulled.

Blankly looking back down at his stained nails; the distinctive stinging sensation returning once again, Tomura experimentally closing and opening his hands watching the blood seep out in dull bursts, before picking up on the muted footsteps heading back to the living room - you in tow with a jar of petroleum jelly and mini plasters with doodles on them.

Slinking back down into your seat, wordlessly grasping his hands; he observes as you work your fingers into the jar before soothing the jelly into his palms, softening the dry, raised skin around the open wounds.

“This’ll help the skin heal easier, and stop the blood flow, ‘kay, Tomura? And, also, don’t hesitate to reach out to hold my hand, I won’t push you on it, but only do it if it doesn’t irritate your hands - I don’t want you to hurt yourself-”

Speaking thoughtlessly, he’s unable to stop himself blurting out, “You’re- You’re not disgusted by my hands?” as you methodically place the plasters over the raw fissures.

Noticing the slight pause in your movements, Tomura panics at his carelessness (for not thinking, stupidstupidstupid) - “Of course not, I’m more worried about how painful this must be for you, eczema is a natural thing, and it’s a part of you. Why would I be disgusted by you, hm?”

“My hands aren’t... the most appealing to look at, and I’d understand if you don't want to hold my hands, they aren’t pretty-”

Smiling softly, you continue, “Baby, you’re my pretty boy, I call you that for a reason, all of you is  and always will be pretty, including these hands - they're just having a bit of a difficult time, and need a little bit of care. And, we’re gonna work on that together, okay?”