#suddenly she’s Fine and you know what I’ll buy that

[dykenav]

someone needs to take me on a fishing trip that spiritually restores me and mysteriously heals me of all trauma and mental illness symptoms like the one derek took cristina on in season 7 of grey’s anatomy

[nereidprinc3ss]

early seasons spencer and bau reader undercover at a club and it’s just like. he is so flustered but also weirdly confident and do with this what you will

in which spencer reid and BAU fem!reader have to pose as a couple at a club. she's more than a little flirty. the conversation actually gets quite suggestive. he's cute when he gets flustered.

warnings/tags: discussions of sex, reader wears a tight dress and makeup and heels, discussions of blushing but r's skin color is not implied to be light, i just needed a reason to talk about sex flush LOL, if u don't visibly blush this will still read fine

a/n: I LOVE EARLY SEASONS SPENCER X FLIRTY READER OH MY GODDD thank you for this request angel from heaven I hope you all like this as much as I do teehee

The bass buzzes through the floor and vibrates your teeth. House music has never really been your thing. Neither have tight dresses and high heels while on the job—but you’re willing to objectify yourself just a little if it will lure yet another loser who likes to chop up young couples into the awaiting arms of the American correctional system. 

Or to the wrong end of Emily's Glock. Whatever comes first.  

You scan the club—it’s not your usual scene, and you can only imagine how Dr. Reid is faring. As far as you can tell this is essentially his nightmare. It’s sensory overload central even for you. 

Your eyes catch on him at the bar, tucked away from the writhing crowd. He’s standing near the end, one arm resting on the surface while the other hand is jammed in his pocket. He seems completely unaware of the several women circling closer and closer. The whole earnest and dorky but still handsome thing seems to work well for him. Or, it would, if he had any interest in utilizing it. He’s dressed a little sharper than usual—no doubt styled by Morgan and Prentiss. Hell, the earnest dorkiness and the well fitted dark suit is working for you if nobody else. 

Sometimes he just looks… edible. 

And self-discipline doesn't always come naturally to you. 

“Doctor,” you purr in greeting, grazing the forearm propped up on the bar with white-tipped nails as you insert yourself in front of him. His fingers twitch under your light touch. 

Spencer doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes sink down your frame, sticking to every highlighted curve like you’re dripping honey. Or maybe he just doesn’t realize that you can see that’s what he’s doing. 

“Hi. You look nice.”

“Aw,” you smile, dulling the salacious edge to your voice, “you didn’t have to say that. Someone’s improvising.”

“I meant it. That dress looks nice on you,” he says, simply, and you hate his specific brand of charm because it’s not intentional. It’s not something he puts on. It comes out of nowhere and always knocks you on your ass when it hits—even in the smallest doses. His eyes narrow and he leans closer. You can feel the energy rippling around him like a force field as he examines you. “You’re wearing more makeup than you normally do.”

“Do you like it? Penelope ordered the wrong shade of blush and gave it to me. Supposedly it’s meant to make me look like I just had an orgasm. I don’t know if I believe it.”

Much to your disappointment, Spencer leans back, scanning the crowd for your target and speaking as if he’s only half-interested. 

“That’s not what you would look like. Sex flush deepens the color of your entire face and chest, not just your cheeks.”

Your brows knit as you contend with unwelcome butterflies. 

“Buy me a drink before you start telling me what I’ll look like after I orgasm.”

That catches his attention, and his suddenly wide eyes snap to you. If he had a drink, he’d be choking on it. 

“I wasn’t—it was a general you, I’d never—that would be inappropriate. It was. It was inappropriate. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You lean with your back to the bar, elbows propped on black granite, and swing your hair over your shoulder. Spencer’s eyes dart back down to your décolletage and then up to the ceiling like he regrets being born. You smile wickedly. Much better. This is the way God intended for you to interact with Spencer Reid. 

“I’ll consider forgiving you. And I don’t blush. Not when I orgasm, not ever.”

Admittedly, you just want to milk the whole talking about you orgasming thing to see how pink you can make him. It’s not often you’re gifted with an opportunity to be so candid about your sexuality or flirt this unabashedly. But you are supposed to be posing as a couple. Maybe you’re just feeling extra in character. 

Instead of stumbling over his words some more, Spencer smiles with a degree of bemusement like he’s caught you in a white lie. 

His smile is so nice. His teeth are perfect, and his lips—

“Yes you do.”

Always so convinced he’s right, this one. 

It’s annoying. And kind of hot. 

“Uh, I promise you I do not.”

“Everyone blushes. It's a sympathetic nervous system activation response wherein blood rushes to your face. Your blood vessels dilate when you get flustered or anxious. Your face gets hot and your undertone changes.”

You raise your brows. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was challenging you. 

“Yeah? Wanna bet?”

“Actually, no,” he mutters, losing any bravado and casting his eyes downward subserviently. “You have a habit of proving me wrong.”

“That’s right,” you gloat, smiling wide. Someone bumps into you, and you turn around, highly unprofessional insult locked and loaded—but it’s just a drunk girl who apologizes and stumbles off. The encounter does, however, remind you that you’re supposed to be finding a killer. “Do you think this is the best positioning? He might not be able to find us way over here.”

“You think we should move?”

You look back at him and nod, holding your hand out. He looks at it uncertainly. You waggle your fingers and infuse your words with sugar. 

“Oh, come on. I don’t want to lose you. And we’re supposed to look like a couple, remember?”

Gingerly he accepts your hand. His is bigger than you’d have thought. Not nearly as freezing as your own perpetually are. It occurs to you as you grab his hand that his bone structure really is bigger than yours. He’s… tall. He is, at the end of the day, a real life adult man. His presence is palpable behind you and you enjoy the weight of his hand in yours as you tug him through the crowd, perhaps not taking the most direct route through the throng just so you can savor being able to touch him like this for a little longer. 

Miraculously you spot an empty booth and slide into it. It’s a deep alcove, shadowy and secluded at the back. That’s where you settle, against black vinyl, and where you wave at Spencer to join you. 

He lingers at the edge of the table, glancing around at the groups of dancing and drinking young adults. 

“I don’t know. Can you even see the dance floor from back there?”

“Part of it. But I’m sure he’ll be looking in the booths for couples. He’ll come to us.”

Spencer faces you again and sighs ruefully, a begrudging smirk playing at his lips as he slides into the booth and joins you against the back wall. His side is warm against yours. He smells nice. Clean. Almost herbal, like patchouli or vetiver. 

“What? You really hate sitting next to me that much?”

Spencer’s lips part wryly before he speaks, like he almost thought better of it but decided to anyway. 

“I think you just wanted a reason to get me alone and secluded so you can finally accost me.”

Your knees bump. You lean into it. 

“Accost you? That seems harsh,” you pout, leaning toward him clandestinely to undo his top button.

“I don’t see how. You are literally trying to take my clothing off as we speak.”

“I’m just increasing your sex appeal. It’ll be good, trust me. Maybe you’ll even end up taking one of those girls from the bar home. Or—back to the hotel, I should say.”

Spencer covers your fussy hands with his own sweetly, like he can sense the true jealousy simmering underneath the sarcasm, and places them in your lap. The touch lingers.

“Are you always like this?” He murmurs, voice lower than you can recall ever hearing it and twisted into the shape of a smile. 

“Only with you, Dr. Reid. Speaking of, how about you? Do you flirt with many other FBI agents on official business?”

“Just the one. She’s kind of a full-time job.”

“Shut up. I’m basically your babysitter. If anything, I should be paid extra for dealing with you.”

“Attempting to seduce your charge seems like a bad business model. There are definitely some ethical issues there.”

His hands still rest on yours. You lace your fingers with his and speak sweetly, meeting his eyes best you can in the dark. 

“I wasn’t aware I was seducing you. Do you feel seduced?”

He’s the first to look away after a few seconds pass—pulls your hands apart gently, politely arranging them back on your lap. 

“I think you’re incorrigible and a terrible influence. In all honesty, you terrify me and more often than not I walk away from our interactions a little confused.”

You clap a hand to your heart, the bare skin revealed by your low cut dress warm under your fingers. 

“Spencer… that kind of turned me on.”

He just looks at you for a moment, a hint of a smile on his pretty face, long enough to make you feel a bit nervous. 

Then he’s leaning forward, and unconsciously so are you, almost forgetting to breath when you’re practically pressed against him in this booth and he’s whispering so low and sweet into your ear. 

“He’s watching us. Right across the floor, next to the girl in the blue dress. White button up and a leather jacket.” His hand slides over yours, fingers skimming your collarbone in the process as he interlocks your grasp once more. “Keep your hand right here and lean closer. We need to maintain his interest.”

“I don’t think I can lean any closer,” you breathe, hoping it doesn’t register as nervous as it really is. You’re supposed to be the confident one who teases him. “But if you want me to sit on your lap, just ask. I won’t say no.”

He chuckles, too loud to be amorous. It’s clearly genuine. It sounds like the way his reddened cheeks always look. It almost does more for you than the bedroom voice.

“You… you are beyond help. I don’t think you could be appropriate if your life depended on it.”

Slowly you pull back so you can look into his eyes—much closer than you normally have an excuse to. They dart wildly over your face, partially obscured by the dark which cuts shadows deep into the dramatic hollows of his bone structure. He really is so pretty. 

You glance toward the man, who’s pretending not to watch you. When you focus your attention back on Spencer, sliding your hand up the curve of his jaw, you find yourself making a dangerous wish. You find yourself wishing that you didn’t have an audience. That this wasn’t all for show. That neither of you had earpieces in.

His pulse hammers under your little finger, and his lips part slightly as he doesn’t have the wherewithal to not glance at yours. He’s so unaware of how obvious he’s being. It’s cute. 

You run the tips of your fingers through the hair in front of his ear, the one sans bluetooth, pushing it back, before leaning in close once more to whisper. 

“Good thing we’re not going for appropriate. Actually—your hands could stand to wander a little more, Dr. Reid. Let me know if you need me to tell you where to put them.”

[sinstear]

✿ soft and gentle abby who knows you get home a little later than she does, so she never hesitates to stop by your favorite flower shop, look around the different flowers, wishing just to buy you all of them, but almost knows that you would probably complain about there being no space for such beautiful plants, still she backtracks, spots the pretty roses on the far right instantly and that’s what she quickly picks up, kindly asks to be wrapped up and decorated neatly for her girl. her next stop is your favorite pastry place, you could never go wrong with those, she knows how much you adore them, which is why she subtly grumbles under her breath when she notices the cinnamon rolls that you love so much have sold out. they were the best seller, and now she was fighting with herself on what to get you next. always going with the next best thing after many arguments with herself, those apple pies with the small pastry heart on the top. you’ll love them, she thinks to herself once she’s paid for everything and walks out. 

✿ soft and gentle abby who spends a full hour setting up the dining table, with all your favorite fine china, new cutlery that you splashed out on randomly out of nowhere, makes sure to have your most loved wine glasses, and wine on standby. finally after minutes that felt like hours, a deep breath when she hears the door unlocking from the kitchen. the sound of you dropping your bag and shoes on the floor, then the long drawn-out sigh that exhales from your lips had her lips curving up into a smile because you’re seconds away from doing what you always do. her body relaxes subtly and suddenly when you appear out of nowhere, you usually take a minute for yourself and get into something comfortable, but you don’t, you reach her and press your chest against her back, and slump against her. cheek squished against into her shirt. “missed you” was all you mumble, enjoying the peace and safety she brought.

“missed you more,” abby chuckled, placing a hand on the one you had around her stomach, and patted lightly. “got you your favourites”

“hm?”

“they ran out of cinnamon rolls, but i got you those apple pies you like. with some of your favourite flowers, they’re in the living room. along with a bath that is waiting, rose petals and a lot of bubble bath, because you know, you are such a spoiled brat” abby muses, biting on her bottom lip when you slapped her chest playfully. “m’kidding baby, but go and take a bath. dinner won’t be ready for another hour. you deserve to relax”

her words had you melting against her, burying your face into her back as you tried to hide your shyness towards her words. “thank you, abs” you mustered out, finally squeezing her body gently. “you didn’t have to, but i appreciate it, i love you”

“i’d do anything for you, now go and relax. i’ll be in if you need anything or need my help.” she smiled, carefully stirring the sauce in the pot before turning her head slightly and kissing your temple softly. “i love you more, by the way. always more”

[pitchsidestories]

can't stop this feeling II Alessia Russo x Reader

part 2 I masterlist I word count: 2954 I

a/n: hi, the oneshot is based off the ask to write for Alessia, we hope you guys like this one, it's on the longer side, so get cozy.

Vick Hope looked expectantly at the two players who formed The Tooney & Russo Show together. The question she read out loud only a couple of seconds ago, was weighing heavy on the Arsenal forward.

They were playing a quick-fire question round of who’s more likely for the new episode and the moderator asked them:” Who’s more likely to kiss a girl?”

“Alessia, she just did last night!”, Ella yelled enthusiastically.

“Tooney!”, Alessia gasped.

Shooting an innocent smile in her best friend’s direction the Manchester United footballer defended herself:” What? You just told me.”

“Yes, but that was just a kiss between teammates.”, the Blonde explained, her cheeks turning slightly pinks as she spoke.

“You never kissed me.”, Ella reminded her with a cheeky grin.

“Yes, because you’re my best friend. I’d never kiss-.”, Alessia licked the lips nervously.

“Your friends? Liar.”, the midfielder clicked her tongue reprovingly.

The remark of the fellow footballer made the blonde blush even harder:” Can we change the topic please? This is ridiculous. It was fun and meant nothing.”

“Sure, so who’s more likely to get into a bar fight?”, sensing the change of the mood in the room Vick Hope switched the discussion to something more light-hearted.

“Definitely Tonney.”, Alessia laughed.

“True, I can’t deny that.”, Ella responded, shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalantly manner.

Last night, when the kiss which the podcast had hinted at, happened the Arsenal team has been out in the bars, celebrating the end of the season. The temperature been up letting everyone know that summer was around the corner.

“No, drinks for, y/n.”, Lia told her teammates at the table seriously. The room was nicely lit, with modern art on the walls and a lot of plants as decorative elements.

“Wally, I’m 23 and not longer 16 anymore.”, you scowled at her.

“Still, the rules are the rules.”, the Swiss woman declared, she didn’t seem to be impressed by your throw in.

Clearing her throat, Katie offered you grinning:” You can take a sip from my drink.”

“Thanks, Katie.”, you replied happily.

“Katie!”, Kim scolded the Irish player.

“She turned 23 this month, you guys need to calm down!”, she scoffed.

“Listen, I’ll order a drink now!”, Leah announced as she banged on the table, to underline the seriousness of her decision.

“Lee, I love you. Thank you!”, you sighed gratefully.

“Excuse me? I thought you loved me more.”, Alessia interjected, her pretty lips formed to a pout.

“Did you buy me a drink?”, you rose an eyebrow at her, but couldn’t help to giggle because of her silly facial expression.

“No?“, Alessia replied truthfully.

“See?“

Your teammate shrugged: “Fine then. I still love you.“

“Love you too. But not as much as Leah.“, you replied when the blonde defender reappeared next to you with a drink in hand.

You carefully took the glass from her: “Thanks, Lee.“

“You’re welcome.“, she laughed, holding up her own glass so you could clink your glass to hers.

“Cheers.“

“Cheers.“

You both took a sip of your drink and you had to admit, Arsenals vice captain had a surprisingly good taste in alcohol.

Lia playfully hit her best friend on the arm: “Leah, you’re breaking the rules!“

“The rules aren’t for her anymore.“, she replied decisively.

You nodded enthusiastically: “Exactly!“

The Swiss midfielder shook her head in faux shock: “Unbelievable.“

You suddenly felt an arm snake around your shoulders. When you looked over, your eyes met Beths. She leaned her head on her shoulder, obviously not on her first drink anymore and said: “You’ll always be our baby, y/n. No matter how old you get.“

“Oh yes.“, Lia agreed.

You shook Beth off and grimaced at your older teammates: “Ugh, you’re horrible.“

Between some gasps and a few protests, Kim only looked at you with an unimpressed expression: “No, we know you love us.“

You were about to respond that maybe they should have their alcohol consumption supervised instead because none of them seemed sober at the moment when Alessia grabbed your wrist. Your attention immediately shifted to her.

“Want to go get some fresh air?“, she asked, her blue eyes twinkling.

“Yes, please.“, you nodded, happy to escape your teammates for a moment.

A smile appeared on your friends lips as she pulled you along: “Come on then. Maybe they have calmed down until then.“

You both stepped outside into Londons night air. It was chilly and you wrapped the arm not holding your drink around yourself. “Let’s hope so. It’s just so annoying when they’re babying me like I’m still that academy youngster who joined them seven years ago…“

You sighed quietly. You were still grateful for these women. They were welcoming and supportive when you first joined Arsenals senior squad. By now you even considered most of them your family. But they still seemed to ignore that you had changed since then.

“Maybe they still want to believe that.“, Alessia grinned, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“Possible.“

“Maybe it makes them feel less old.“, the striker suggested while taking your drink from you and having a sip.

You let out a laugh: “I guess that could be true.“

While she was busy enjoying your drink, you used the opportunity to reapply your lipgloss. As you followed the contour of your lips with the applicator, you realized that Alessias eyes were following your movements.

You frowned at her: “What?“

“That’s a pretty gloss.”, the blonde muttered under her breath.

Her visible nervousness amused you.

“I could put some gloss on your lips if you’d want to?”, you offered her, smiling innocently.

“Sure.”, Alessia nodded as she kept focussing on your lips. They are so kissable, the forward thought to herself while you applied the gloss on to her.

Stepping a bit away from her, you noted:” It looks great on you.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s true.”, you replied but before you could add anything more your teammates lips were on yours, you exchanged short and sweet kisses.

In between those Alessia stated with a huge grin on her face: “And very kissable.”

“Oh, do you think so, Russo?”, you gave her a challenging look.

“Yes.”, she declared laughing.

“Too bad you’re only for the boys you’re a pretty solid kisser.”, you sighed dramatically. Despite the joking, it did hurt you saying this out loud. You couldn’t dwell on it for too long as Alessia showered you in more kisses to stop you from talking.

“I can still kiss you anyway.”, the forward claimed confidently. The two of you have been too oblivious to your surroundings, so you didn’t see your teammates turning up behind you, who have started to worry what took you two so long.  

“Oi, Lessi kissed y/n!”, Katie yelled.

“Katie.”, Caitlin scolded her girlfriend.

“Wait, what !?”, Beth gasped, the shock has been written all over her face.

“Relax, girls, it was just a kiss.”, Alessia tried to soothe them with her response.

“It’s never just a kiss.”, Beth answered in a serious tone.

“Well for us it’s, right y/n?”, the younger forward asked you.

“Uhm, yeah sure.”, you mumbled, you could feel the rest of your team could sense that you were lying.

The Irish woman was clearly ready to reply something sharp, but Caitlin stopped her. “Don’t say anything right now, Katie.”

“I think I’ll be going home now.”, you decided quietly.  

“Already?”, Lia questioned surprised.

When she saw you nodding the Swiss woman continued: “I can bring you home.”

“Oh, you don’t need to.”, you told her.

“I was about to leave anyway.”, Lia shrugged.

“Okay, fine.”, you gave in, after you said your goodbyes to everyone, the older midfielder and you were on your way home by foot.

While you were walking Lia was absently smiling at her phone. Normally the Swiss woman wasn’t clued to her device this much, she would have pointed out the beauty of the gardens you both were passing on the way or talking about whatever crossed her mind.

“Are you texting Mariona again?”, you teased her smirking.

“Again?”, the midfielder repeated, biting her lip guiltily.

“Oh, please, you know what I’m talking about, you playfully rolled your eyes at her before adding more earnestly, I’m happy for you, Lia, you deserve it.”

“Thanks, I’m just surprised, I haven’t told anyone yet.”, Lia confessed.

You shrugged, biting back a smirk: “Yes but you know we all have eyes and access to Instagram, right?“

“It wasn’t even obvious!“, the midfielder protested, throwing her hands up in defeat.

“Doesn’t matter we all know.“

“I guess you do.“, she sighed.

You raised your eyebrow: “See?“

“Yes. But Lessi…“, Lia suddenly changed the topic.

You could feel your heart skip a beat but pretended to remain unfazed: “What about her?“

Your teammate studied your face for a moment. “What was that about?“

“I don’t know…“ There were a million thoughts in your head, a million explanations but the reality was that you had no idea why this had happened. You were thinking about blaming it on the alcohol but you knew Lia would not buy it.

Seemingly unsatisfied with your answer, the Swiss midfielder followed up with another question: “Was it just a kiss like she said?“

You knew where she was going but you decided to act dumb: “I mean… you know Lessi. She’s just very affectionate.“

Your indifference seemed to bother Lia. She stopped right on the pavement. “But kissing is a different level of affection.“

“Yeah…“, you admitted slowly, your gaze trained on the tips of your shoes as you paused by her side.

Lia let out a sigh of understanding and when you looked back up at her, her eyes were full of empathy. “You wanted it to be more than that, right?“

“I did.“ Your voice was hoarse and quieter than you expected. You cleared your throat.

“Oh, y/n.“

Before you could protest, Lia had pulled you into a tight hug.

For the first few seconds, the embrace felt soothing and comforting but then you shook your head, signalling your teammate to let go.

“But it’s okay. I know this will never happen with her.“, you said, once Lia took a step back.

The older player whipped out her phone again and started typing: “Let me text the others.“

“Wait, what?“

“They should talk to her.“, she explained quickly.

“Oh, that’s probably useless…“

With a stern face, Lia looked directly into your eyes: “No. I know you think this is probably not a big deal. But it is. It is hard enough being a queer woman, this should not be one of the things we should have to worry about as well.“

“What do you mean?“ The fierceness in her voice almost left you speechless.

“Being randomly kissed by a straight girl. I’m sure Lessi didn’t mean it like that but… she should know.“

“She should know what it means…“, you whispered. The kisses from earlier in the evening replayed in your mind and only then did you realize that Lia was right. Alessia was the one who had initiated this.

“The others will talk to her.“, Lia plainly said before gently pulling you along.

You immediately fell into step with her as she walked you to your flat. She only left when you assured her that you would be okay.

Crawling into your bed in the quiet of your home, you hoped that sleep would come quickly.

On the next day Leah was the first to approach her teammate, opening the conversation in her earnest England captain tone: “Lessi, can we talk?”

“Sure.”, Alessia mumbled a bit nervous due to the stern expression on the older blonde’s face.

“About last night.”, the defender continued, getting straight to the heart of what was about to be discussed.

“Is this about a kiss?”, she bit her lip in front of the older woman.

“Yes., Leah confirmed her fear before adding, Lia texted me that y/n wasn’t happy.”

“Of course, she wasn’t as a queer girl getting kissed by a straight one.”, Beth joined their talk shrugging.  

“That’s not what I..”, Alessia interjected with a helpless look on her face.

Clearing her throat to draw back the attention on her Leah asked the younger forward:” Why did you kiss her?”

At this point Alessia felt like she was being cross-examined by her friends.

“I just like..her so much.”, the blonde tried to explain her feelings for you in front of your teammates stammering.

“Like Lotte and Tooney?”, Beth questioned.

“ I thought so. But they never looked so..”

“Kissable?”, the England captain ended the sentence for her.

“Yes.”, Alessia nodded, licking her lips anxiously.

“Does she make you feel things like you did with boys before?”, the oldest of the players threw in.

“No, I’m not into girls.”, the younger forward shook her head.

More softly than before Leah responded:” Maybe not into girls but into her.”

“Into her?”, Alessia ran through her open hair to calm down her nerves, but she had to admit that this gesture didn’t help at all in this situation where their questions stirred something inside her for which she wouldn’t have simple answer.

“Yes.”

“I don’t even know what that means.”, the half Italian pointed out.

“Alessia.”, Beth tried to soothe her.

“I mean I’ve only been with men before.”, she reminded them and more important herself.

“Doesn’t mean it always has to be that way you know?”, Leah told her gently.

“But..”, Alessia begun.

“You don’t have to give yourself a label if that’s what’s concerning you.”, the defender emphasized.

“Thanks, girls.”, she whispered already deep into her own thoughts.

“Do you want to hear my humble opinion on this.”, Vivianne tuned in, turning up next to her girlfriend’s side.

 “Of course.”, Alessia said.

The Dutch woman looked deep into her eyes while talking solemnly:” Nothing of this matters. Who you dated before, how you label yourself. But if you want to keep kissing her, don’t deny yourself that. Otherwise, you should apologize to her.”

“Well, said Vivi.”, Beth said padding the shoulder of the taller player.

“You girls are the sweetest, but I don’t know.”, the younger Blonde forward answered genuinely.

“You don’t have to know yet.. just trust your feelings.”, Leah reassured her.

Alessia nodded slowly: “I think I should talk to her.“

“That sounds like a good idea.“, Vivianne agreed, giving her teammate a gentle pat on the shoulder.

You were on your way to leave the pitch when Alessia stopped you right after training.

“Oh hey, Less.“, you said casually, trying to move past her.

“Hey. Can we talk?“

You had dreaded this question but still nodded cautiously: “Yes.��

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to get hurt.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you, that was wrong.“, Alessia apologized sincerely.

Trying to avoid her bright blue eyes, you looked straight over her shoulder: “To be fair, I kissed you back which… wasn’t right of me either considering you only kiss boys.“

“Don’t. I initiated it. I don’t know what had gotten into me.“

You finally looked at her, searching for any sign you could find. “So you really think it was just a mistake, huh?“

The striker frowned: “I didn’t say that.“

You were surprised by the defensiveness in her voice. “True.“

For a second, Alessia just stood there, studying you. Nervously, she ran a hand through her hair. “I’m just really damn confused about what happened.“

You immediately believed her. You knew the desperate expression in her eyes too well from yourself: “Trust me, I’m confused too.“

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to confuse you.“

In this moment, you wanted nothing more than to put your lips on hers to stop her from apologizing.

“I just don’t want you like a best friend, Less…“, you said, your jaw set defiantly.

“I never felt about anyone this way…“

“And I never felt like this about a teammate.“

There was silence between the two of you. Both scared to make the wrong move.

Alessias voice was light as a feather as she whispered: “Do you think this could be something?“

“I do.“

It felt like your heart was somersaulting in your chest.

Your best friend took your hand in hers, her face softening even more: “But you’ll have to be patient with me. I’m new to all of this.“

You let out a soft chuckle: “I mean your kisses were the opposite of patience.“

She playfully hit you on your arm: “If you don’t shut up, I’ll have to kiss you again!“

“Try it.“, you challenged her but quickly added with more seriousness: “But I promise we can take it slow.“

“Promise?“

“I promise.“

“Come here.“, Alessia said, pulling you in for a gentle but long-lasting kiss.

You broke apart as Katie yelled from somewhere: “Guys, I think the kids will be alright!“

As you looked up, you saw your teammates standing at the gate of the Arsenal grounds, watching you.

Lia winked at you before turning to Katie: “I think we have to admit that they’re not children anymore.“

“Told you so, Wally!“, Leah joined in.

Kim Little grimaced: “Ugh, young love is so disgusting.“

“Oh, Kimmy, we know you love them.“, Beth grinned at the small Scot.

You looked at Alessia with raised eyebrows: “I think it’s time for us to leave, Lessi.“

“I agree.“

Maybe this was just the trial stage but the way Alessias hand fitted so perfectly in yours, told you this was going to last.

You were almost out of earshot but you could still hear the smile in Kims voice: “Such a pretty couple.“

“We knew you thought that!“, Leahs voice shouted.

You bit back a smile. What would you do without those girls?

pictures are from pinterest.

[hotshotsxyz]

beer & apologies

(buddie) (722 words) (7x04 coda)

It’s late, later than any reasonable person would show up on a friend’s doorstep, but Buck’s got this bright, warm feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is apologize so he can share it. For a split second he thinks about knocking, but that feels a little too much like going backwards. Instead, he lets himself in and hangs his key on the hook.

“Eddie,” he calls quietly into the still house.

“Kitchen.” The reply is soft, easy, like Eddie was expecting him.

Buck steps into the room and holds up the beer he brought.

Eddie looks up at him and grins, soft and warm in the glow of the lamplight. “What’s that for?”

“This is ‘sorry for acting like a teenager and spraining your ankle’ beer,” Buck says, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Seriously, I’m sorry.”

Eddie sighs and pushes an empty chair back from the table with his foot, gesturing for Buck to sit. “I’m sorry too,” he says.

“No, no, you don’t—" Buck starts.

“Yeah, I do,” Eddie interrupts with a wry grin. “You should definitely be sorry-er, though, so I’ll take the beer.”

Buck snorts and sits, setting the six pack on the table between them.

“We didn’t—well, I didn’t…”

“I know,” Buck says. “I was just—”

“I know,” Eddie says softly.

A few, quiet moments pass, and it’s comfortable, exactly what Buck was missing the last couple of days.

“Hey,” Eddie says suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “at least now I know why you always said no to basketball.” He smiles, loose and just a tiny bit mischievous.

Buck splutters. “What? No! I wasn’t that bad,” he protests.

Eddie lifts his injured ankle and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well maybe, but—”

“Uh-uh,” Eddie says, “no buts. You haven many talents, Buck, but basketball isn’t one of them.”

Buck ducks his head and grins. “Maybe I’ll get Tommy to teach me, then I can beat you without playing dirty.” Saying Tommy’s name out loud gives birth to a few giddy butterflies in his stomach.

“You two make up?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “He uh—texted me.” The butterflies turn to little rocks.

“Good,” Eddie says, “that’s good.” He grabs a beer and twists the top off. “I really think you guys will get along, if you give him a chance.”

“We, um. Yeah. We probably will.” Buck grabs a beer of his own and stares at the label.

He doesn’t—he didn’t mean to lie. It just kind of… came out. Which, it’s Eddie. Buck knows he could tell him exactly what happened, right now, and it’d be fine. It’d be completely fine because it’s Eddie and he knows Eddie would be cool about it, probably even happy for him! But when he goes to open his mouth it just. Doesn’t.

“How’s—uh. How’s Marisol?” he asks instead, tripping over his words.

Eddie shrugs. “She’s fine, same as always. Apparently Christopher got her to play Fortnite, which, according to him, was a disaster.”

Buck laughs, shaking his head. “That kid,” he says softly.

“That kid,” Eddie agrees. He takes another swig of beer and sits back.

“Hey, wait,” Buck says suddenly. He lurches forward and snags the bottle out of Eddie’s hand. “You can’t have this, you’re on pain killers.”

“It’s my apology beer!” Eddie protests.

“Nope, two sips is plenty. I can’t hurt your ankle and your liver on the same day.”

“It’s after midnight, it’s tomorrow,” Eddie pouts. “Give it.” He makes a halfhearted attempt to grab it back, but Buck holds the beer aloft.

“Nuh-uh, absolutely not,” Buck says. “You can drink your apology beer this weekend.”

“My apology beer is going to be flat and stale,” Eddie replies, unimpressed.

Buck rolls his eyes. “I’ll buy you a new apology beer, alright?”

“Promises, promises.”

“I will!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie laughs. “You better. Want to bring it over on Saturday? We can watch the game.”

Buck’s grin falters a little bit, even as that warm feeling bubbles up in his chest all over again. “I uh- can’t, sorry.”

“What, you got a hot date or something?” Eddie asks with a laugh.

Buck takes a long swallow from the beer he stole from Eddie. “Yeah, something,” he says with a hollow laugh.

He feels like a liar.

[2amriize]

.ᐟ class president RIIZE reaction to sneaky!reader ༉‧₊˚.

req: I remember myself in high school i was always very late and sneaking so the school principal wouldn’t catch me (i get caught every time😇) so what about (riize class president with a sneaky girlfriend ) I’m curious to know how would they act Especially when she do it every day 📚❤️❤️

note: its been a long time since i wrote 'long' reactions. this was really fun to write! i really love it ♥

pairing: class president!riize x sneaky!gf!reader— masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

You needed to pass economics, but it was way too difficult for you. After a tutoring session with your teacher, they decided you’d need to stay after school and study with the class president. Luckily (or maybe not), the president happened to be your boyfriend, so you figured it might even be fun.

After a few weeks of studying together, you realized that while you enjoyed spending time with Shotaro, you absolutely hated economics. No matter how hard you tried, it didn’t make sense to you. Shotaro kept saying you were improving, but you felt like he was just trying to motivate you.

That day, you’d had enough. You were exhausted from school and your friends had invited you to grab bubble tea after class. Without a second thought, you decided to ditch your tutoring session with Shotaro.

Not even half an hour later, Shotaro walked into the bubble tea shop where you were with your friends. His expression showed a hint of disappointment as he approached you.

“Really, y/n?”

Hearing his tone, you thought he was mad, so you quickly stood up, placing a hand on his shoulder to apologize.

“I’m sorry, Taro, I was just...”

“No, don’t say anything… I’ll forgive you if you buy me a drink and promise not to do it again. Honestly, I was kind of tired today too…” he said with a small smile, gently brushing his hand against your cheek.

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

You hated history; learning about the past just bored you to death. That’s why you’d told your teacher you weren’t feeling well and needed to rest in the nurse’s office, giving you the perfect excuse to skip class. Luckily, the nurse’s office was empty, so you got comfortable on one of the beds while watching videos on your phone.

The door suddenly opened, and when you looked up, you were surprised to see your boyfriend, Eunseok. Once he noticed you weren’t in your seat, he had asked the teacher what had happened. As soon as he heard you’d “felt unwell,” he knew it was a lie.

“You hate history that much?” he said, closing the door behind him and shaking his head as he approached your bed.

You tried to hide your phone, but Eunseok was quicker, grabbing it and sighing when he saw you were just watching gameplay videos.

“You know how much I hate it…” you said, meeting his gaze.

“You’re going back to class, aren’t you?” you asked, knowing the answer before he nodded, gently brushing your hair with his hand.

“Fine… but can’t we stay here for just five minutes?”

Eunseok hesitated, unsure if this was another ploy to avoid class. After a few moments, he relented, lying down beside you on the small bed to watch the video together.

“But only five minutes, okay?”

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

“What are you doing here? Didn’t you have a club meeting?”

Your eyes widened as you realized Sungchan was standing in front of you in the hallway. Being your boyfriend and the class president, he always kept a close eye on what everyone was up to.

You’d told him you had a meeting after class, but laziness got the best of you, and you decided to skip it. With most people already gone, you hadn’t expected to run into him.

“Oh… I, uh…”

You tried to turn and run, but Sungchan quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you closer as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Hm… So, you’re skipping the meeting, huh?”

You nodded several times, giving him a pitiful look, knowing Sungchan hated when people skipped responsibilities. Still, you also knew you were his weakness. He stared at you for a few moments, clearly trying to scold you, but your expression made him look away, clearing his throat.

“Well… uh… I was going to invite you to my place, but only if you promise not to skip a meeting again, okay?”

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

During class, you asked to use the restroom, but your real plan was to get away and head to the gym to practice. You were too bored to stay in class and figured rehearsing was a better use of your time.

Although the teacher didn’t notice you’d been gone for over 20 minutes, Wonbin, your boyfriend, did. Knowing you too well, he immediately figured you’d just skipped.

Even though he hated leaving in the middle of class, Wonbin also asked to use the restroom and came straight to the gym, where he knew you’d be.

When you saw him at the door, you stopped the music.

“Aww, you noticed I wasn’t in class,” you teased as Wonbin approached.

“You know you can’t skip class to practice,” he said, crossing his arms and trying to look authoritative.

It was his duty to make sure everyone stayed in class, but you knew he had a soft spot for you. When he gave you that look, you couldn’t resist.

“Fine! Let’s go, I’ll go back to class…” you said, grabbing your things.

“Wait. Show me the choreography once, and then we’ll go back. Promise me you won’t skip again, okay? You know how much I hate missing class…”

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

As the school year came to a close, teachers were holding one-on-one meetings to discuss grades and performance. You dreaded these meetings because they always told you the same thing: your grades weren’t great, and you needed to try harder next year.

Even though the meeting was mandatory, you made up an excuse about an after-school activity to get out of it. Your plan was working perfectly, until Seunghan, your boyfriend, caught you at the school exit, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Done with your meeting already?” he asked, glancing at his phone to check the time.

“Well… uh…”

“You’re trying to skip, aren’t you?” His silence after the question was enough to make you squirm. “You know how important these meetings are, y/n…”

“I know, I know. But… they always say the same thing, and I don’t want to hear again that I need to improve. I already know that,” you said, frustrated.

Seunghan listened intently, knowing your struggles with school all too well. Brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, he leaned closer.

“How about I go with you? If I’m there, maybe they’ll be easier on you. Plus, no one will question me since I’m the class president.”

Blushing at his suggestion, you reluctantly nodded. “Fine…”

⭑.ᐟ sohee

“What are you doing here? Class starts in two minutes.”

Sitting at the top of the stairs, you looked down to see Sohee staring up at you. He’d caught you red-handed.

“Uh…”

You were planning to hide there through your next class because you didn’t feel like going to music. You didn’t get the rhythms and felt like you contributed nothing, so why bother?

Seeing your expression, Sohee sighed and climbed the stairs.

“You weren’t thinking about skipping class, were you, y/n?”

“It’s just… I hate music class. I don’t add anything to it.”

“How can you say that? You’re with me, and I love watching you during practice,” he said with a playful grin.

His words made you smile, but you shook your head. “I don’t know…”

“You know I won’t leave until you come with me, right? I’m not letting you skip.”

Knowing he was serious, you gave in, standing up and taking his hand.

“Besides, I know you love hearing me sing…”

“Shut up, Sohee…”

⭑.ᐟ anton

You found out that morning that there was a math test later that day. Not only had you forgotten to study, but you also hated math. So, you decided to sneak away before the test and hide on the rooftop.

You’d been up there for about half an hour when the door opened, startling you. Turning around, you saw Anton.

“Skipping a test? Really?” he said, approaching you.

As the class president, and your boyfriend, Anton always kept tabs on everyone, especially you. No matter how many times you promised to stop skipping, he always managed to catch you.

Sitting beside you, he leaned against the wall and waited for an explanation.

“I forgot we had a test…” you mumbled, embarrassed. Anton sighed, shaking his head.

“I’ll ask the teacher to let you retake it tomorrow, but you have to promise to spend the evening studying with me, and no more skipping.”

Spending the evening with him? That sounded like the perfect plan. Even if studying wasn’t your favorite, you nodded eagerly and gave him a quick kiss before heading back to class together.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi

[queenothegeeks]

Awkward creator reader drabbles

This is based off a previous post about the reader being an awkward creator.

(warning, this all based off of chaotic ideas me and a friend had while on call, and this is not beta read, so I apologize for any bad spelling or grammar)

Imagine, just, having tea with Zhongli, and he's just talking about wine or something boring idk, and he notices that you look a little zoned out, like, eyes glazed over, mind clearly elsewhere. While he’s worrying about The Creator not liking him or whatever, you are just trying to figure out how to process being in another world, with all these people that you know everything about, but at the same time, don’t know anything at all. 

When you notice him looking at you weird and not talking anymore, you worry that you may have missed something important. So you just blurt out the first thing that came to mind, to fill the silence. 

“It's kinda funny that you're working under Hu Tao. She’s like, a billion years younger than you. Also, you should cool it on the adventuring, you might throw your back out gramps.”

And then, realizing what you said, you just grab your now lukewarm  (yes, he was talking for that long) cup of tea (or whatever else you want if you don’t drink tea)  and take a long sip, trying to hide your red face. 

(Bonus, you choked on your tea) 

Imagine going to Fontaine, and just gawking at the scenery there. Imagine, in order to find out about where in the timeline you are (and because you want to see some of your favorite characters) you decide to go to the opera house, and see if there's a trial going on, where you can ask Furina or Neuvillette about the wellbeing of Fontaine. Instead, you find a flier for Lyney and Lynette's magic show at a nearby theater. Deciding to go, you pay the ticket master, who looks in slight shock as the creator buys back row seats like a normal person (you were too scared to ask for a better seat while paying, so you just asked for the cheapest one) 

Sitting down, you wait nervously for the show to start, all being completely ignorant of the panic and rumors backstage. 

“The creators here! At our show!?”

“Calm down, it's fine, we don’t even know if it’s true.”

And, just to stir the pot, a tall lady sits next to you. You feel like you should know her from somewhere, she just seems so… familiar. 

Realizing you had been staring for quite a while, you turn your head back to the stage, waiting for the show to start. About midway through the show, you realize who it is you are sitting next to.

The knave, fourth of the Fatui harbingers. 

At the end of the performance, you shift in your seat, suddenly wayyyyyy more self-conscious than you were at the beginning of the show.  Wanting to say everything and nothing at the same time, you decide it's best to shut your mouth for the time being. It’s probably not even her, why worry-

“Excuse my rudeness, would you happen to be the creator?”

She knew you were of course, hence why she chose to sit next to you, instead of the front row seat that was reserved for her, as it always was at one of her children's performances. 

“I.. am… but you can call me y/n! I don’t really like fancy titles or anything! Would you be the Knave? Or do you prefer Arlecchino? ack-wait , sorry. I’ll shut up now, let's start fresh, what do you think of the show?”

You half say-half shout, flailing your hands around, and then shrinking in your seat, trying to become as small as possible. Arlecchino chuckles.

“I think it was a lovely performance, as they always are. My children are very talented, you know.” 

“Y-yeah! They're really great! I have to go! Great meeting you miss-Arlecchino-Knave-ma’am” 

You say as you bolt out of the room, the embarrassment and social awkwardness you naturally possess driving your feet. 

(Bouns, you tripped over your own feet and wanted the floor to swallow you whole) 

@lorkai

[thegettingbyp2]

Hii, Could you do like Bella meeting Jaspers human mate for the first time (while Bella is also human) and it throws her off that the reader is warm? If you don't have time or think it's weird that's totally okay! Thanks for reading it!

Another Human

A/N: So I changed this slightly so it was the reader meeting Bella for the first time, I hope that's okay! It just made it a bit easier for me to write!!

Buy me a coffee :)

You were nervous as you walked up the front step to the glass door, your hand clasped in Jasper’s ice-cold grip. It was always a verve-wracking thing, meeting your boyfriend’s parents, but you were even more nervous since you found out that your boyfriend was a vampire; and so was the rest of his family. It didn’t matter how many times Jasper reassured you that they were going to love you, there was something about the idea of being the only human in a house full of vampires that kept you on edge.

‘(Y/N), you need to relax! You’re going to be fine and they’re going to love you,’ Jasper said for what felt like the hundredth time as he lifted your intertwined hands to press a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

‘I know, I’m just nervous!’ you insisted, melting slightly at the feel of his lips on your skin and Jasper chuckled when he heard your heartbeat jump slightly.

Jasper led you through the doorway and you were greeted with a group of people who had the same colour eyes as your boyfriend and you were struck by how beautiful they all seemed to be. They all introduced themselves, not hesitating to shake your hand, embrace you in a hug or even drop a kiss to your cheek and you marvelled at how easily they seemed to handle being around a human; especially after Jasper explained their different diet to you.

‘Jasper didn’t tell you?’ Emmett asked, raising his eyebrows at his brother, amusement clouding his eyes.

‘Didn’t tell me what?’ you asked, looking back up at Jasper who had snaked his arm around your waist, holding you close to him.

‘You’re not the first human we’ve had around here, honey,’ Emmett replied in a sinister tone, making you shrink back into Jasper. You saw Jasper’s eyes narrow as he looked at Emmett and all of a sudden, you were filled with a sense of calm that you know had something to do with your boyfriend’s gift.

‘Don’t listen to him,’ Jasper murmured soothingly into your ear, ‘he made it sound bad. Edward’s girlfriend, Bella. She’s human too.’

Your brows lifted in surprise. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘He’s nervous when he brings Bella up after what happened on her birthday,’ Edward said, his eyes cooling slightly as he thought back to that night and you felt Jasper stiffen next to you.

‘What happened?’

‘I’ll tell you later,’ Jasper spoke softly down to you.

You heard footsteps on the stairs and suddenly a girl who you assumed had to be Bella rounded the corner. You vaguely recognised her from school but had never really spoken to her.

‘Hi! I’m Bella, it’s so nice to meet you!’ she greeted warmly, moving to shake your hand and you couldn’t help but jump slightly when you felt that her hand was warm, a stark contrast to everyone else in the room, causing Emmett to let out a loud laugh.

‘You’re fine when a bunch of ice-cold vampires shake your hand or hug you but you jump when you shake hands with a human,’ he laughed, turning his gaze to Jasper. ‘I like her.’

‘I guess my bodies adjusted to Jasper, I wasn’t expecting to meet another human today,’ you replied sheepishly.

Everyone chuckled softly before you felt Bella’s warm hand lightly grasp your arm, tugging you away from Jasper slightly. ‘Come on,’ she said, leading you towards the staircase, ‘I’ll show you the house and I can fill you in on what it’s like around here, it’s nice to have another human around!’

[leossmoonn]

neighborly welcome | mike schmidt

summary - burnt cookies aren’t the only thing mike gives you

warnings / includes - reader is fem, natural time skips. lowk stalker/pervert mike, f oral, brief handjob, intercourse, after he worked at freddy’s, porn w/ plot

————

18+ below the cut

“you should get her a housewarming gift,” vanessa suggests.

mike’s body whips around from his perch at the window. “give who a housewarming gift?”

vanessa rolls her eyes and gets up off the couch. “the girl you’ve been stalking and are obviously in love with.”

he scoffs, the tips of his ears burning. “i’m not stalking, and i am definitely not in love with her.”

“fine. a crush then. still, you should get her something. welcome her to the neighborhood.”

“that’s not normal.”

“what? of course it is.”

“it’s not normal for me,” mike explains. he glances back out the window, spotting you in the same spot you were since he turned away. you’re gardening, your white tank top clinging to your body thanks to sweat. you’re wearing a visor to protect your face from the sun as well as sunglasses to shield your eyes. you bend down to pick up a pot, unknowingly giving mike a nice view down your shirt.

vanessa scoffs in disbelief. “you’re practically drooling.”

“what, i’m not,” mike denies. he brings his hand to his lips, wiping the corners and feeling a small amount of saliva that’s collected. he blushes and looks down at the floor, knowing he’s stared at you enough today.

“you should introduce yourself before she calls the cops” vanessa quips. “you don’t want a restraining order from someone you don’t know.”

“what do you suggest i get her then?” he asks. “bake some cookies or something. i don’t know,” she shrugs.

“so helpful,” mike deadpans. vanessa chuckles and stands up from the couch. “my grandma has this killer chocolate chip cookie recipe. i’ll send it to you,”

“is this grandma from your mom or dad’s side?” he asks. she rolls her eyes, “do you want my help or not?”

“yes, yes,” he nods. “i’ll send it to you when i get home,” she says. she walks to abby’s room, knocking on her door and biding ber goodbye.

“don’t get yourself arrested, mike,” vanessa warns him as she walks out. mike glares at her, but he knows she’s right. he looks back out the window once her car leaves his driveway. now you’re sitting on your porch steps drinking some water. as you take a sip, you manage to spill some on yourself, making part of your top see-through. mike knows he should look away, but it’s almost painful to tear his eyes away. his jeans are suddenly tight and he looks away in shame. he knows what he needs to do.

“can i have one?” abby’s eyes light up as she sees the cookies on the stove.

“only one,” mike says. “two?” abby changes her mind. mike sighs and nods, handing her two cookies. she grimaces at them, but still takes them. “did you make these?”

“yeah,” mike nods. “you should ask vanessa to make them next time. she’s an expert!” abby grins. she takes a big bite of one, slowly chewing and swallowing. “these aren’t terrible.”

mike’s eyes light up. when they first came out of the oven, he thought they were inedible.

“are you going to give these to the girl next door?” she asks. “i was thinking about it,” mike admits.

“get her something else to make up for the cookies,” abby says. she takes another bite, turning around and walking back to her room.

he takes her advice and goes back to the store. he picks out a bouquet of flowers that matched one of the types on your lawn. he takes a shower and tries on every outfit in his closet, which are all clones of each other. he goes out of his room, being met by abby at the table.

“you look like a robber,” she states. mike looks down at his outfit and back at her. “i do not.”

“you should buy more bright colors! like yellow!” abby grins. “i am not buying yellow,” mike shakes his head. she shrugs, “she’s going to think you’ll kidnap her with the cookies.”

“isn’t josie’s mom supposed to pick you up soon?” mike asks. as he said so, a minivan pulls up in his driveway. “call me if you need anything and behave!” mike reminds her as she rushes out the door. he watches as she gets into the van, making sure it’s josie’s mom who’s picking her up. once the car leaves, you come into view.

you’re chatting with one of the neighbors down the street. mike squints and looks closer, seeing a container of some type of food in your hands. he groans and rubs his hands down his face, his skin dragging along. of course everyone and their mother wanted to come and talk to you. you were the only thing interesting happening in this neighborhood since mike and abby moved in.

but he has to see you, to meet you.

he waits a little while, not wanting to overwhelm you. after an hour of waiting, he can’t sit still anymore. he grabs the container of cookies and flowers and makes his way towards your house.

his hand shakes as he presses your doorbell. he can hear the jingle from inside the house. he glances through your window, seeing boxes still sitting out, some opened and still sealed. he spots you walking towards the door and he steps a quick step back, his heart beginning to race.

you open the door, cool air hitting mike’s face. he can’t help but gawk at you. you’re much more beautiful up close.

you stand there, leaning against your doorframe and wait for him to speak first. he gulps, feeling his throat tightening and becoming dry. he’s parched all the sudden.

“hi, i’m mike,” he manages to say. you smile sweetly at him. “hi, mike.” you say his name slowly, making the ‘k’ sharp. he lets out a breath in response, looking down and remembering why he’s really here

“these are, uh, for you. to welcome you to the neighborhood,” he says, holding out the gifts. he’s never felt more out of place in his life. he feels stupid and uncomfortable, telling himself that this was a terrible idea and he should’ve left you alone. but as you take his gifts, you invite him inside. the offer makes his eyes go wide and jaw almost drop.

“i… are you sure? i wouldn’t want to intrude.” he says this, but he would be lying if he denied having any thoughts about going into your house and spending time getting to know you.

“yeah, i’m sure. you can help me eat some of the desserts other neighbors have given me.” you turn around and leave the door open. mike doesn’t know if his imagination, but your hips sway almost intentionally. you take slow strides, the sides of your body curving in. mike’s jeans get tight once again and he’s thankfully he’s wearing a t-shirt that can cover the tent forming.

his head perks up as you turn to face him, setting his cookies on the counter and putting his flowers in a vase. he’s astounded by how many other containers of sweets you have sitting around.

“wow. you’re popular,” mike chuckles. you sigh and nod, “unfortunately. don’t get me wrong, i appreciate knowing my new neighbors like me, but there’s no way i can finish all of these before they go bad. well, maybe i could, but i live alone and would rather not have pie and brownies for every meal.”

“i could take some home if that would help,” mike offers. “sure,” you say. “i assume they’ll be for your daughter?”

mike shakes his head quickly, wanting to erase any thought of him being with someone from your head. “no, no. i bet you’re referring to abby. she’s my little sister.”

“ah,” you say. he might be mistaken, but you look relieved. “she looks like a sweet kid.”

“she is,” mike nods. he looks around your house, seeing you’ve already started to decorate. his eyes catch a photo of you with a man and a little boy at a carnival. his heart sinks as he looks closer. the man’s arm is around you and you both are holding the child’s hand.

“that’s my brother and his son,” you say. you stand next mike, crossing your arms as you admire the picture. “that was my nephew’s sixth birthday. i won him a toy elephant.”

mike smiles a little. “i take it that picture was taken before you won him the toy?”

“yeah, but trust me, i did. and it was huge. he could barely carry it.”

“he’s a cute kid.”

“yeah, he got all the good genes from my side of the family.”

mike’s head turns to you and he stares at you again. you aren’t wrong. you’re gorgeous. you’re charming and funny, and your smile’s infectious. mike feels unworthy to be in your vicinity.

“do you like banana bread?” you bring him out of his daze. there’s a coy smile on your lips, like you know something about him. hear creeps up his neck and he makes a point to look away from you. “y-yeah, i do.”

you walk back to your kitchen counter, grabbing a couple plates and putting a slice on each. you walk to your living room and sit on the loveseat. you pat the space next to you for mike to join. it takes everything in him not to run over. he takes a small bite of the baked good after you do, lowly moaning at the taste.

“these are amazing. so moist and still warm,” he comments.

“the couple down the street brought these to me. laura and um… peter, i think.”

“oh, yeah. they’re nice. they bought abby a barbie when we first moved in,” mike recounts.

“wow, aren’t you two special,” you tease. mike laughs softly. “that’s the only gift we’ve received, but i didn’t care. and abby was just happy that she got a new doll.”

“well, now abby will have some treats to enjoy over the next few days,” you say.

“it’ll probably be gone in a day,” mike chuckles. “as long as they’re eaten,” you shrug.

a comfortable silence settles over you two as you finish the food.

“thank you for inviting me inside. you didn’t have to,” mike says.

“it’s no problem. thanks for being willing to take some of my treats home.”

“always happy to help,” mike remarks. he stands up, beginning to walk towards the door, but you stop him. you put your plate down on the couch ledge, your hand gently wrapping around mike’s wrist. your hand is warm and soft, making him feel all fuzzy. he turns to you, raising a brow in question. you take a shaky deep breath in, your mind racing with all the words you want to say.

“i want you to know, mike, i didn’t invite you in just so you could eat some banana bread.”

his mind is spinning. he’s confused, but also excited. “w-what do you mean?”

“i noticed you’ve been watching me.”

his heart pounds against his ribcage. sweat starts to form near his hairline. “i… i can explain.”

“there’s no need to because i’ve been watching you, too,” you admit. you take a step closer to him, or maybe he leans forward. he can’t tell who makes what moves. all he can focus on is his heartbeat that’s thumping in his ears and dark look in your eyes. he catches the way your eyes flicker down to his parted lips.

you lean forward, your lips hovering over his ear. he takes a deep breath in, the smell of shea butter and laundry detergent. your warm breath tickles his skin, making all the hairs on his body stand up.

“you should really keep your curtains closed when walking around with a towel on.”

his heart stops and he forgets how to breath. your fingertips skimming along his forearm brings him back to reality. his body feels like it’s on fire. he’s thought about being in this situation with you so many times. wondering how to make it come to life. he’s dreamed about you coming over to watch abby and that’s how it starts, or him helping you move something into your house and things escalate from there. he always thought that he would have to be the one to initiate something. honestly, he was so nervous, always thinking of how to make you like him. but now that you’re standing here, so close to him he could just lean in and close the gap between you two, he feels less foolish and ashamed of his thoughts about you.

you press a hand against his chest, feeling the soft tissue under his black shirt. you step further into him, but not so much to where you’re against him. mike can almost feel your weight and he wants it to be real. he needs to feel you pressed up against his lower half. he needs to feel your skin on his. he needs to know what it feels like to kiss you, hold you, fuck you.

“i know how you think of me, mike.” you say his name lowly. “i know you dream about me. i know you look forward to admiring me from your window.”

he’s so painfully hard. it physically hurts the way his dick is trapped inside his pants. he can feel a wet spot already forming, his pre-cum bleeding into his underwear.

“i think about you while i’m in the shower. i think about your big hands on my body. i wonder how it would feel with be pressed up against the wall, your cock inside of me. fuck,” you gasp into his ear. “i’m already so wet just thinking about you.”

mike grabs you by the hips, your body colliding with his. mike groans just at the feeling of your lips against his. he’s been waiting for this moment for so long. it’s so much more amazing than he could’ve ever imagined.

you take him by the shirt, keeping your lips onto his. your kisses become impossibly more messy as you both walk up the stairs. mike’s kisses are wet and desperate. his tongue slides against yours. your teeth clash with his as you push your body into him in attempt to get closer.

you leave his lips for a moment to open your bedroom door. “sorry, i still have to unpack some things,” you say, kicking some boxes out of the way.

“maybe i can help after,” mike offers. you give him a teasing smile. “after what, exactly?”

“after this.” he grabs you again, sliding a hand under your shirt. his hands are warm against your already hot skin. you sit down on your bed as his hand continues to scale your body, feeling over the underwire of your bra. he can feel your heart pound against your ribcage as his hand ghosts across your skin. you shiver in response. his touch is so gentle, so light. he wants to take his time with you, not believing he’s finally with you. but he also wants to rip your clothes off and fuck you so hard you can feel when you wake up tomorrow.

you scoot back onto the bed and he follows, his lips detaching from yours and starting to wander. you moan softly as presses sloppy kisses along your jaw and down to your neck. he begins to softly suck multiple spots, listening for which one gets the most rise out of you. there’s a spot just under your ear, close to the nape of your neck that has you breathing harder. you feel wetness pool on your underwear and you squeeze your thighs together. between his hand teasing your nipple and his teeth scraping against your skin, you’re tempted to shove his other hand down your pants.

he seems to hear your thoughts, taking his hand out of your shirt. he takes ahold of the collar of your shirt, ripping it open, buttons flying everywhere. you watch as his bicep flexes as he pulls on the material. you’re embarrassingly turned on by this.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he promises. you hum in response, shrugging the shirt off. you unhook your bra, flinging it behind mike. he takes his shirt off and undoes the buckle on his belt. you take the liberty in taking all your clothes off. mike pauses as he’s unzipping his jeans, looking down at your naked body. you quite literally take his breath away. your glistening folds is what catches his eyes and his mouth starts to salivate. he needs to taste you. he need you to come on his mouth.

“better than you imagined?” you ask. his eyes flicker back up to yours and you watch his pupil swallow his iris. “so much better.” he spreads your legs apart harshly, the sheets causing a burning sensation on your skin. he spreads your pussy with his fingers, burying his face into your thighs. his tongue first enters you, collecting your juices with quick swirls. he trails up to your clit where he attaches his lips to. he can feel you throb against his mouth.

“oh, fuck.” you throw your head back and your eyes roll. his fingers enter you and he can’t help but groan at how wet you are. you grip his hair and your thighs clamp over his ears and you begin to buck your hips up.

his fingers pump inside of you, making your legs shake. he sucks your clit with the perfect amount of pressure, his tongue circling every couple of seconds. your legs are squeezing his head so hard, you’re afraid you might burst it open. but he plants a hand on your thigh, his fingertips digging into your skin as he keeps your leg there. your moans become erratic. your chest is heaving up and down, your eyes screwed shut as you focus on the immense pleasure flowing through your body. your pussy gushes around his fingers, the sound turning you on even more.

mike starts to moan into your skin as if he can feel how amazing it is. the scruff of his facial hair prickles your skin as he begins to move his head, burying himself flush against your skin.

“mike,” you whimper, feeling close. you can’t help but shout out his name, your fingers pulling on the back of his head. your thighs tighten once more then loosen as you come. he doesn’t stop until you push his head away.

you look down at him. his lips and chin are shining with your juices. his hair is all disheveled and his face is all flushed.

“tired?” you tease. he shakes his head, taking off his pants and underwear. “i could do this all day.” at first you think he’s just joking. you’ve had men say that to you before, but from the way mike is looking at you, you’re confident he actually means it.

you sit up on your knees, taking him by the neck and kissing him. you can taste yourself on his lips and on his tongue. it makes you moan in his mouth. his hands find your waist and he pulls you into him, groaning just at how your skin feels on his. his fingers move across your back, feeling every inch of you. his hands land on your ass, playfully squeezing and earning a small gasp from you. one of his hands settle on your waist, slowly leaning you back. you fall on the bed, looking up at him with expectant eyes.

“do you, uh, have any condoms?” he asks. “i’m on birth control,” you say.

he’s shocked, to say the least. he would’ve worn a condom without a second thought, but man, he was feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.

he moves down to kiss you again. he can’t get enough of the way they fit so perfectly with his, how in-sync you are with him. he wants to get accustomed to making you come with his mouth, to feel your legs shake around him. he can’t wait to know what it’s like to be inside of you.

he has one hand by your head to keep him stable. his other hand hooks under your thigh, pulling you down closer to him. without a second thought, he slowly pushes into you. the moan you elicit could’ve made him come right then and there if he didn’t have any self control. his girth stretches you out as he pushes deeper.

your walls hug him like they’ve been yearning for him. once he bottoms out, he pulls back out only to slam into you. your hands wrap around his shoulders as he falls into a rhythm. your eyes screw shut as he hits that spot. your little gasps and moans spur him on. he takes a look down, watching as his cock disappears into your cunt.

“fuck,” he mumbles. he looks back up to your face. your chin is titled up and he can see your eyes roll to the back of your head. your lips are swollen and parted, his name tumbling out of your mouth. he could just fall in with you.

“mike,” you say, a hint of desperation in your voice. your nails dig into his shoulders and he knows you’re close. he lets his mind flow free with you in it. he doesn’t even have to focus that hard. your hips push up against his, the angle causing him to go slightly deeper. you both mumble a string a curses as you come. he pants your name as you feel him fill you with hot spurts, quiet whimpers sounding from his throat.

all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears. you close your eyes for a moment and try to catch your breath. you open them back up once you feel him pull out, his cum oozing down your thigh. you watch as he puts back on his briefs, walking into your bathroom and finding a washcloth.

you can’t help but grin from ear-to-ear at his sweet actions. you let him clean you up, his thumb rubbing circling long your hip. you tug back on your underwear and grab a t-shirt and shorts from your dresser. you walk him downstairs, grabbing a few containers of sweets and handing them to him.

“i’ll, uh, talk to you soon?” mike asks. you stifle a giggle at how shy he suddenly has become. “of course,” you nod. you open the door for him, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek.

the next day, mike swears what happened with you was a dream. he just can’t wrap his head around the fact that he was inside your house and you let him come inside of you. but as he grabs his mail and sees an envelope from you, he’s assured that it was real.

he opens the envelope as he walks up his driveway, choking on air as he sees a polaroid of you in black lingerie. he takes it out, holding it up close to his face to make sure he’s not imagining things. he flips it on the back, seeing a message from you.

take me out on a date and maybe you’ll get to take that off of me xx

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 2

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

Thank you so much for giving this little idea so much love 💕 it means a lot! Thank you for taking the time to read and share your thoughts

Word count: 2,695

The house was quiet, it was probably pretty late by now, but at least the initial commotion was calmer now. Tommy’s eyes focused on the flame flickering on the bedside table, the room was quiet. Then his eyes darted to Y/N… his best friend seemed so vulnerable, so small. He had seen the marks her father left on her back it was a horrible sight and now it looked worse. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough by the unplanned pregnancy, Y/N would have to deal with the physical pain as well.

He studied Y/N’s face for a minute, taking in the swollen eyes from crying too much, his heart aches for her, she didn’t deserve to be treated like this. She held a special place close to his heart since they were kids.

“Do you’ve a minute?” Polly asked.

As she realized the doubt in her nephew’s eyes, she assured him that Y/N would sleep for a while. After cleaning her injuries and adding a strong ointment to the wounds on her back, Polly checked the baby and gave Y/N a tea to help her sleep.

Tommy gave Y/N one more look and covered her arm with the thin sheet, but was careful enough to not hurt her before he walked out of what was once Ada’s room in Watery Lane.

“What happened?” He found Polly downstairs stomping her cigarette on the ashtray. Earlier, she didn’t ask questions, she just rushed to take care of Y/N’s wounds just she had done so many times when they were kids, and eventually teenagers on the brick of trouble every time.

“Y/N is pregnant, the son of a bitch told her he wasn’t sure the baby is his.”

“And that’s why her father hit her like that?!” She asked scandalized. “He’s an animal.”

“How’s the baby, really?” He asked with genuine concern.

Polly sighed. “She was smart to offer her back, so the belt wouldn’t hit in any compromising area, but I’d keep her in bed just in case.” She suggested.

“Tommy,” Scudboat apologized for the interruption, “we found the vehicle, Scott has been hiding in the house, do you want the men to enter and get him?”

Leaning on the counter, Tommy considered his options for a few seconds. “No, keep someone watching his house at all times, he might try to escape.”

As the blinder left him again alone with his aunt, Tommy expressed out loud a decision he had already made.

“We can’t leave her alone Pol.” He clenched his jaw. “She’s on her own, that bastard just used her and her family won’t help her with the baby yo-you saw how they hurt her.”

“I know.” She added breathlessly stopping for a second as she got the kettle. “They turned their backs on her when she needed them the most.”

“Sort a doctor tomorrow morning to make sure they’ll be fine.”

“And then what?” Pol stared at him.

“I just got a house, still needs a few things… I can take Y/N there, because if she stays here, she’ll see her parents all damn day.”

“In the meantime if she needs another place, there’s my house as well.”

Tommy folded his arms against his chest and nodded profusely.

“Poor Y/N… she’ll have a hard time with people pointing fingers at her all the time.” Polly shook her head.

Tommy remembered the long stares and whispers over Ada, when she suddenly got married and started showing no long after. He had been forced to walk around with the gun in his hand for several weeks. They even kicked her out of a boutique once she tried buying a dress and Tommy had to stop by with a few men until his sister got the dress that she wanted.

“I’ll blind anyone who dares to do something against Y/N.” He stated firmly pouring some whiskey finally.

“What happened?” Finn asked looking from his brother to his aunt.

“If anyone asks,” Tommy pointed a finger at him, “you haven’t seen Y/N here alright?”

Finn frowned. “But I haven’t seen her.”

“Exactly.” Tommy agreed walking towards the fireplace, he added a few pieces of wood and then took a seat in front of it. Pondering on the previous events, worry installed on his shoulders of what might happen. Anger spreading on his body at the thought of his best friend being humiliated by her useless boyfriend, after all she had done for the prick and he had the audacity to doubt the baby was his. Thanks to her, Scott got the chance to be a blinder, and with that endless benefits.

One of his men knocked desperately and as Tommy went to see what was happening he heard the best news of the day.

“We followed Scott, he was at the train station.”

He took the remaining of his drink in a swing. “Was?”

“The boys took him to the warehouse, he had a ticket to escape.”

Tommy gave his aunt a look. “If Y/N wakes up, send someone to let me know.”

As Polly saw them disappear, her eyes darted upwards, in a silent prayer. She knew Scott wouldn’t live a day without regretting his decision. Taking her cup of tea with her, she decided to look for some clothes and clean sheets to provide to Y/N while they sorted everything out.

Y/N was considered part of the family, she and Tommy had always been close, in a way Y/N was the only person who could understand her nephew. The one who he trusted the most.

She decided to go to the church the following morning to light a candle and pray for Y/N and the baby.

Taking a deep breath and one of her eyes cracked a bit open. As everything started to hurt so bad, her chest felt heavy as memories from what had happened hit Y/N hard. Word by word her parents had said replayed in her mind.

A single tear rolled down from her eye to her nose. With trembling fingers, Y/N moved one of her hands to the yet non-existent bump. It was still early to start showing but she couldn’t help but think her baby was starting to grow inside her.

Despite the circumstances, Y/N felt like giving her own life for this baby. It didn’t matter that Scott or her family decided to leave her.

Tommy opened the door carefully to not wake Y/N up, but to his surprise she was already awake.

“Go on… say it.” She was waiting for Tommy’s lecture.

Scott had turned his back just like her parents. All the people she thought she could rely on showed her to not take them for granted.

But Tommy shook his head.

“How are you feeling?” He asked taking the chair in the corner to place it next to the bed.

“Like a total failure.” She admitted with tears in her eyes.

“Y/N.” Tommy didn’t know what to say to make her feel better, to help her. “Hey, look at me.” He spoke softly and covered one of her hands with his own.

Y/N started biting the inside of her cheek to prevent more tears to come out. But looked at her best friend anyways.

“You’re not alone, I know you’ve a lot to take in at the moment… but you can count on me for everything.” He offered sincerely.

She didn’t feel worth any of this, she felt dirty, stupid for believing in Scott’s love words. How could she have been so naïve?

“Why?” Her voice broke. “Why do you want to help me when I’ve done everything wrong?”

“Don’t do this to yourself.” Tommy swallowed hard. “Don’t let them get in your head, I know how it is, but this isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is! I gave myself away to Scott, I’m just another whore.”

Tommy lost his control, he didn’t want her to feel this way.

“You’re not a whore. You did it out of love and that’s not something to regret.”

“I deserve this, my father is right.” Y/N shook her head, she angrily wiped a tear away.

“No, you don’t deserve this shit happening. Y/N you’re a good woman an-”

Y/N’s grandmother asked if she could walk into the room. Tommy felt grateful for the interruption because he didn’t know how to deal this situation. He didn’t want to say that he had warned Y/N about her now ex boyfriend and make her feel worse than she already did.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

At least he got a chance last night at the warehouse to make the bastard pay for playing with Y/N’s heart. Tommy made it very clear he better disappear from her life for good because if he ever saw him again, he wouldn’t let him walk twice alive.

He had been a few punches away from killing Scott. But the image of Y/N holding a baby in her arms stopped him… he wouldn’t be responsible for killing that baby’s father, even though Scott definitely deserved it. So he limited himself to leave a little warning, a message.

“This is a mess, Y/N feels so guilty for getting into this.” Tommy announced walking into the kitchen. He found his sister and aunt making breakfast.

Tommy’s eyes fixed on Karl and he was taken back in time to when Ada thought he had betrayed Freddie. He was a lot of things, but he’d never cause a pain like that to a child. At least not one of his own people.

From the beginning, he knew Scott was a piece of shit, but Y/N seemed so happy and thrilled, how would he step in to destroy her happiness? He never imagined he’d have to help her pick up the broken pieces of her heart. The sudden presence of Polly close to him made him snap back into reality, she stepped closer to help him light the cigarette that was hanging from his mouth.

Tommy moved his eyes towards his nephew, he was playing with a truck on the floor. Perhaps he was overthinking but he didn’t know what would he answer when Y/N’s child asked about his or her father.

“Ada would you talk to Y/N?”

“About what?”

“When you got pregnant…” he began with embarrassment in his eyes to talk about that. “It’s something similar.”

They’ve come a long way ever since, but Tommy still regretted the time they spent apart. Family was everything to him.

“And what do you want me to say Tommy? Her boyfriend dumped her, it’s not the same I got married.”

He sighed in frustration. “I just want Y/N to feel our support.”

“You’re going to make her feel overwhelmed! I know how noisy you can be.” Ada protested.

Tommy scoffed, he felt offended by his sister’s words. He just wanted to help Y/N.

“I’ll talk to her.” Polly intervened placing some food on a tray to give Y/N.

“Thank you.”

Ada clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. Her eyes boring into her brother.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

But Ada turned the corner of her mouth down and shuddered. “Nothing it’s just strange to see you go above and beyond for someone.”

As she walked out of the kitchen, Tommy found himself thinking of her words. She was telling the truth but… but how could he stand there and do nothing for Y/N?

He knew her like the palm of his hand, she had been by his side since forever, encouraging him to follow his dreams, telling him the truth right in his face when he messed up. Even he didn’t want to hear it.

There was no other way to do this, she’d have his entire support through the pregnancy and whatever she might need afterwards.

“Mr. Shelby!” Y/N’s grandmother shouted from upstairs.

Tommy skipped a few steps and when he reached Ada’s old room, he found Polly holding Y/N’s hair back, she had been sick and her grandmother was trying to hold her trembling body.

“I’m sorry Pol. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry for? With everything you’ve been through it’s not a surprise your stomach can’t handle food. Tommy help me here.” His aunt asked him to take her place so Y/N could use his strength as support. “Take her to that chair, while I sort this out.”

Following Polly’s instructions, Tommy lead Y/N carefully to the chair in the corner while his aunt and Y/N’s grandma changed the bedsheets. Ada joined them a moment later with a glass of water. “Try some crackers, it helped me with sickness during my pregnancy.” She offered taking the sheets downstairs.

Y/N groaned feeling embarrassed and mortified for everything. As soon as she smelled the food her stomach protested, but she felt bad for telling Polly something so she decided to just eat the food. But the moment she got the first bite, she couldn’t help it and it ended in her throwing up and making a mess.

“I want to thank you for taking care of her.” Y/N’s grandmother admitted taking her hand.

“I was just thinking…” Tommy started to say, “You could come with me to the new place I got.” Then he turned to face her grandmother. “It’s outside the city, away from curious eyes and it’s surrounded by trees.”

“No.” Y/N stated.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea dear.” Her grandma smiled at Tommy. “Fresh air could help her.”

Y/N sighed frustrated with herself, with the situation.

“Think about it, yeah?” Tommy suggested. “That way you won’t run into your parents everyday, and you can walk to the lake to relax.”

“He’s right.” Her grandma approved. “You’ll feel grateful to be away from the drama.”

“Perfect! Looks like you got it all figured out Tommy.” She snapped. “Just like my mother who wanted to send me to her aunt’s farm.”

She knew this wasn’t fair, he was the only one offering support, but she couldn’t help it, she felt on the brick, like everything was falling apart. And she was angry with herself.

Polly pushed Tommy away and gently grabbed Y/N’s arm. “Sweetheart all of this worry isn’t right for the baby. For the first time, I think going to that house is the best idea.”

“Unfortunately your choices are limited my darling.” Y/N’s grandma spoke softly. “But you should know that these wonderful people are trying to help you.”

She was trying to be strong, to pretend this didn’t hurt her, but truth is he world was crashing down. And this was only the beginning.

That seemed to click on Y/N’s mind because she gave a small nod, her lower lip gave in and it started quivering, then the tears started to fall down her cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” Emotions took over her.

Her grandma pulled her in for a hug, wrapping her arms protectively around her just like she did when she was a child. “The Lord removed some people from your life but look at the angels he placed right away.”

Tommy saw Polly dabbing the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.

“This baby will grow surrounded by people who really love him or her.” He assured her.

“Now how about I help you take a bath? The doctor should arrive shortly.” Polly offered rubbing her back.

Her grandma squeezed between them. “I better go, said I was going to church.”

“Thank you for coming gran.” Y/N gave her a tight hug.

As they moved to get things done, Polly stopped her nephew before he could walk downstairs. “You’re brave for helping her like this.”

“I can’t leave her on her own.” He tried to explain, but Polly interrupted him.

“Your mother raised you right.” She then, in an unexpected move touched his shoulder. “She’d be proud of you.”

Part 3

Master list

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[patscorner]

CHAPTER ONE: BUY-IN

pairings: paige x oc

contains: pining, angst

word count: 2,575

a/n: okay, one chapter in. let me know what you guys think, my inbox is open. also let me know what you might like to see, the outline isn't set in stone. school has started so it might be a bit before the next chapter, but it's coming. enjoy!

My palms sweat as I dial the familiar number, one I’d memorized by heart. It’d been far too long since I’d called her, and I don’t really have a reason, so the bullshit ‘I’ve been busy’ excuse will just have to do.

=======================

JUNE 2023

“Hello?”

I clear my throat in an attempt to swallow the lump that magically appeared. “H-Hey, Azzi, uh-it’s CJ.”

“Who?” My heart dropped to my shoes as my brain scrambled to pick up the pieces of one word.

“I-uh..”

Azzi chuckles. “I’m just messing with you. What’d you need?” I let out a breath as I rub my head.

“Oh my god, I actually hate you, holy shit.” I laugh.

“Apparently, since it’s been, what, like three months since we’ve talked.” I could practically hear the eye roll.

It’s really not fair for me to ignore Azzi because, really, she hadn’t done anything but be my best friend.

Our best friend.

And maybe that our was the problem. Maybe that combination, the unity of the word, and everything behind it was a mistake. Maybe, letting her etch herself into the scrolls of my heart, so much so that the ink bled together. Maybe the missed cue of when mine became hers, and hers became ours, was poor oversight.

Maybe letting Azzi become collateral damage was where me and her went wrong.

I laugh it off, ignoring the pang it sends to my chest.

“Yeah, well, I have to mentally prepare myself to lose brain cells. Can’t let it fuck up my game.” I respond, earning a laugh from the brown-haired girl. There’s nothing like the nostalgia a sound can bring you. The memories and feelings, all hidden behind a single noise.

After she gathers herself, she sighs. “So what’s up?”

And suddenly, I remember why I’d called.

“Yeah, uh, there’s something I kinda wanted to talk to you about, before you hear it somewhere else..” I say, picking at my earlobe nervously.

“Ooookay… Is everything okay..?” her voice relaying softer through the phone.

I nod. “Yeah, it’s nothing bad. Or, at least, I don’t think..” I fall silent for a moment. This couldn’t be as bad as I’m making it seem, right? Right?

“Either way, I’d just rather talk about it in person.”

Azzi hums. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. Where do you want to meet?” I consider my options. I’m only in Minnesota to visit my family for about a week, and it’d take another day to get to Virginia… I would be back in time to move into my dorm. It’s inconvenient but doable.

“I could drive up to you in like a week, I’ll just meet you at your house.” I mutter thoughtfully.

“Wait, are you in Texas or Minnesota?”

“I’m about an hour out from Minny.” I answer, slightly confused.

“Oh, I’m here with Paige and the boys. We’re actually headed to the fair soon. You could meet up with us if you wanted.”

“Shit…uh, I didn’t think about them...” I mumble.

That’s a lie. Truthfully, every time I think of home, memories of the blonde flood my mind instantly. But then I’m reminded of what she’d done. How she ripped herself out of my chest like velcro, instead of carefully detangling herself, ridding herself off all strings attached. All for someone else.

For someone who used to be mine.

“Hello..? You still there?”

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Uh, th-yeah, that’s fine.” I sigh, quickly trying to recover.

Azzi sighs through the phone. “Look, I still don’t know what happened between you two, so if you don’t want to come-” she amends.

“No! No, okay, sorry. I- just gotta change my clothes…” I say, biting my lip as I lie through my teeth. “I’ll just meet you guys there?”

I could practically hear Azzi smile. “That sounds good, just call me when you get there.”

After we say our goodbyes, I hang up. I groan as I throw my head back.

I’m always up to a challenge, but the thought of going and having to function around her, after all she’s said and done; after she’s ruined us before there even was an us, that might be more difficult than I’d thought.

It’s not like I have a choice, though. I’m gonna have to learn how to be around her every day, especially when the season starts.

_________

“Drew, bro, if you spray me with that shit one more time, I swear to god, I will beat your ass.” I glared at him as he hid behind Jose, who put his hands up in surrender. I should not have bought him that water gun.

I rolled my eyes as I turned back to Azzi, who kept looking around, then back at her phone, repeating the process. I kicked her in her shin. “Ow! Paige, what the fuck?” Azzi complains, rubbing her leg. “Who are you looking for?” I say, glancing around.

She looks back down at her phone. “Nobody. Just people watching.” I scoff. “Bullshit, are we being spied on, or what?” She shakes her head, looking up around once more. “Okay, bro, what’s going on? Who’s ass do I have to beat?”

Azzi rolls her eyes at me. “You couldn’t beat Ohio, let alone anyone else.”

I sit back in shock, putting my hand on my heart as I feign offense. “Okay, their defense was so unexpected. You can’t even put that on me.” She shrugged, looking back at her phone and standing up. “Where-”

“Bathroom.” she mutters. I watch as she practically sprints away. If only she did that shit in practice. I shake my head.

I open my phone and begin mindlessly scrolling through instagram, ignoring the thousands of times I’ve been tagged in pictures that I’d taken with fans today. Suddenly, I freeze.

It’s a post by the official UConn women’s basketball team. It’s a picture of CJ in her Texas jersey, the number 43 on the front. Her hair is in her signature bun, hair slicked back carefully, as she drives towards the basket. The caption reads “Welcome CJ West!”

What the fuck?

I’m in such a state of shock that when Azzi comes back, I don’t notice the figure next to her. I glance up at her, then back at my phone. “Yo, Azzi, have you seen this?” I look up at her again, and this time, I let my eyes flick to the person next to her.

CJ.

Forgetting what I’d just seen, my jaw drops as I take her in. She’s just as beautiful, if not more, as she was the last time I’d seen her. She’s wearing a basic casual outfit; a plain white crop top, paired with blue jeans, and gold jewelry that always makes her hazel eyes seem brighter. Or maybe that’s just how they look naturally.

“Oh, shit.” I whisper, clearly in awe. She rolls her eyes.

Fuck.

“Hello to you, too, Paige.” Double fuck.

That fucking voice.

I clear my throat, trying to recover. “Hey, CJ.” I breathe. The lighthearted air is swallowed by suffocating tension as I make eye contact with a stranger.

“Oooookay…” Azzi says, clearing her throat. “This is about as awkward as I’d thought it’s be…” she mutters. CJ looks at her. “I told you.”

I look between them. “What’s going on?”

Azzi looked at CJ expectantly, gesturing to her to speak. CJ rolled her eyes and huffed. “I-uh, I have news.” CJ glanced between Azzi and I. She cleared her throat as she picked at her earlobe, a habit she’d picked up when she was younger. I’d always hold her hand to stop her, and I want to do that more than anything right now. I think I’ve lost that right, though.

“I’m transferring to UConn.”

My eyes flick to Azzi’s who’s jaw drops. “Really? How-Why?”

CJ shrugs, trying feign carelessness. “Better environment, Texas heat ain’ my thing.” To the normal eye, CJ’s behavior could be seen as normal. But to me? I see the way her eyelids flutter, the hesitation behind her pretty lips, and the way her eyebrows raise just slightly. She’s a good liar.

Just not good enough.

I don’t say anything, though, not when she gets dragged away by Drew and Jose, not when Drew practically begs her to stay and hang out with us, and certainly not when she’s sat in front of me on the ride Jon chooses. I don’t say anything when the boys get swept away, and it’s just the three of us, like it always used to be.

It’s only when Azzi goes to the bathroom, leaving us alone for the first time in years that I say anything. “Try not to kill each other, please.” She orders as she scurries to the restroom.

It’s silent for a moment, and I can almost see the relief on her face when she thinks I’ll hold my tongue.

Unfortunately, I’m nobody’s peace.

“How long are you here for?” I ask, stuffing my hands into my black cargo pants. She looks up at me. “Uh-just for the week, gotta move outta my dorm, and it’s a long drive, so.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You driving on your own?”

CJ nods. “Yeah, I’ll just sleep in my car or something.” I shake my head. “No fucking way, bro, you serious? That’s like a twenty hour drive.”

She crosses her arms. “So? That’s how I got here.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not goin’ on your own.” I say. Truthfully, I knew she’d be fine on her own, but something about her driving back to Texas, just to go back to Connecticut, doesn’t sit well with me. I’m only concerned for her safety. Or at least that’s what I decide to tell myself.

She scoffs. “What, you’re gonna come with me?”

“I could, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s the last thing I want.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“It’s not. Didn’t even wanna see you today.”

I turned to her. “Seriously, dude?” She looks at me. “Yes, seriously.”

I roll my eyes. I know I hurt her. I know I fucked up. But that was three years ago. We were kids. I was eighteen. I can legally drink now. It’s been three years. How can someone be upset for that long? “You gotta get over it one day.” I say before thinking about it.

I regret it when I see a flash of hurt on her face. “Get over it? That’s easy for you to say, Paige.” she spits out harshly.

Ouch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, even though I know exactly what she meant. “Exactly what it sounds like. You get over shit quickly.” She shrugs. Her nonchalant tone pisses me off more than the words. I take a step towards her. “I didn’t ‘get over’ anything. There was nothing to ‘get over’. You were just jealous-”

“Jealous?” She interrupts incredulously. “Paige, you stuck your tongue down her throat!”

“And that pissed you off. Hence, jealousy.” I shrug.

“You were my best friend! It’s not fucking jealousy, it’s betrayal!” She practically yells, taking a step closer, our toes almost touching.

“I didn’t betray anybody! I was drunk! She was drunk! And I apologized afterward!” I say, trying to ignore the way her scent invades my senses.

She laughs dryly, taking a step back. “Right, you’re right. Yeah, an apology fixes it all.” I blink. “Really?”

CJ stares at me. “You’re a fucking idiot.” she says, and the only emotion I can pick up is anger. “I know.” I whisper.

Just then Azzi comes out of the bathroom, looking between us. “Everything okay?”

“Yep.” We say at the same time, and Azzi raises her eyebrows. “Aaaalrighty then… Can we find the boys, I’m ready to go.”

I nod and begin to walk behind Azzi, but I don’t miss the way CJ looks at me. I’m no expert, but if I know one thing, it’s the gaze of someone who’s been heartbroken.

I know because I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it every time I’ve looked in the mirror for the past three years.

__________

“There’s no way you’re driving to Texas by yourself.” Azzi gapes from the corner seat of the booth. Jose convinced Paige to drive us to some random diner. She’s so easy.

I roll my eyes as I take a sip of my sprite. “Bro, you sound like Paige.” I grumble.

“The fact that I’m agreeing with her should tell you how fucking stupid you sound.” she said. I look at her in shock as Paige throws her head back, cackling.

Fuck.

That stupid fucking laugh paired with that stupid fucking smile makes it so fucking hard to be mad at her. Maybe I should let it go. It has been three years…

No.

Instead of entertaining the thoughts, I opt for kicking her shin instead. “What do you think that says about you, dumbass.” She immediately shuts up, and I roll my eyes as Jon almost spits out his Dr. Pepper.

“I’ll have you know I was AP player of the year.” She defends, eyebrows furrowed. I raise my eyebrows unimpressed. “Still holding onto that, huh?”

Azzi laughs, and Paige shoots her a look. “Can we get back on task, please?” That seems to direct all the attention back to me. “Driving to Texas? All on your own?” Paige says.

“Yes. Did y’all forget how I got here? I didn’t fucking speedwalk.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna go to Texas, spend, what, two full days staying up late and packing up three years of your life, and then driving the… twenty-nine, thirty, hour trip to Connecticut?” Azzi reasons.

I blink. “Well, when you put it like that..” I mutter.

Paige rolls her eyes. “Dude, just let us come with you. We can drive you there, so your car isn’t sitting in the middle of nowhere-”

“Isn’t your car in Storrs?”

“And we can switch drivers. Stay at a hotel halfway there, and then drive the rest of the way the day after.” She finishes, ignoring my comment. Before I can answer, the waiter comes with our food.

As he sets the plates down, I look at Paige, just taking her in. She’s wearing a plain black hoodie, with some red, white, and blue shorts on. It’s not much, but she could be wearing a trashbag and still be the hottest motherfucker around. It’s almost disgusting how effortlessly gorgeous she is.

I wouldn’t mind having someone to help me get to Connecticut. It’s a long drive, and it should be an easy yes. The truth is, when she looks like that, and acts like this, and talks the way she does… I don’t know how I’m going to get through the season, let alone a road trip.

I watch her lips as she says a thank you to the waiter, quickly averting my eyes when she looks at me. When the waiter leaves, I look back up and roll my eyes at her poor attempt to hide her smirk. As much as I wanted to wipe the smirk off her face, driving alone to Texas sounded dreadful. Plus, Paige has an okay music taste. Might not be that bad.

“Fine. You guys can come with me to Texas.”

Azzi smiles, clearly satisfied. Paige grins like a madman, clapping her hands. “This is going to be fun.”

I roll my eyes for the upteenth time tonight.

What the fuck did I just get myself into?

=======================

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerrss @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris-deactivated20240 @cosmopretty @hellokittyfeenie @averagelobotomyenjoyer @elliewilliamsthang @chelisbae @angelscovee @st4rrzynight @cherryswisherz

[pigeonpeach]

Love potion yandere <3

Cw: dub con, suggestive themes, drugging, yandere themes,

Prompt: You recently received a potion from a strange old lady you helped out. You helped her pick out a cute bunny plushie for her daughter and even helped pay for it. As reward she gave you that potion and payed you back. Telling you it will show wether or not someone loves you. If they don’t, then they will act as if nothing happened. But if they do then it will strengthen their love to the point they cannot resist showing affection to you. You were in fact: quite perplexed who to use this on. So you saved it for later.

Well later came.

Jean

You were preparing tea for your boss Jean when you got curious. She’d bene eyeing you for some time now so you wanted some answers. The potion came up again as you contemplated it. There was no way you could but… ohh… could anyone blame you. Yearning for someone is truly frightening. You yearn for her touch, to sit on her lap, to be her wife.. oh you just want to know.. maybe just a drop. Just a little? Half a drop maybe?

You caved. Who could blame you. You were horrible with signs and you needed to know. You didn’t put much. A single drop. Nothing more. You watched her lift it before the guilt overtook you.

“Wait! I just realized I didn’t use the right tea bags! I’m so sorry.” You said. She put the cup down looking at you concerned.

“Its no problem. I can drink this one. I’m not that picky.” She chuckled. You however still sweated.

“B-but I really insist I must get it right before you have it!”

“Is it poisonous?” She asked confused and skeptical.

“Of course not. I just.. this cup was… i- i um… its a really experimental tea I bought and I don’t know if you would like it.” You said nervously. You looked like a vein would burst at any second from your stress.

“Please relax, you look way too stressed over this. I’ll have a sip and tell you my thoughts.” She took a sip before you could interject. She put the cup down as she swallowed it. A smile graced her lips. “This is great actually. It has such a lovely taste.”

You felt relieved.

“Do tell me the flavor, this is excellent stuff I’d like to buy some myself.” She said.

“O-oh I’ll go check!” You said nervously.

With that you left as you clutched your heart. It seemed she was fine. Did… that mean it didn’t work? Or did she not love you? Oh well. What matters is that she’s fine and you got your closure without risking your job. You decided to try and come up with some exotic and outrageous flavor to tell her as you killed time in the library.

Meanwhile for Jean she felt herself growing restless. Her hands tingling as she slammed her fist on the table. “Where is she! Where is she!” She felt so fustrated. Her heart raced. Her mind blanked as it was filled with thoughts of you. She needed you this instant. She sat up from her desk as she vowed to find you herself.

Coming into the Library she found you dusting the shelves.

“O-oh Jean I’m sorry I got carried a-woat?!” You gasped as she suddenly lifted you into her arms and carried you off. “M-m-m”

“Don’t speak. I just… want to hold you right now.” She said, her voice as so stern, it was nothing like the woman you were talking to a hour ago. Her face on your neck taking a deep sniff making you surprised. “You’re so soft.. were you always this compliant? You didn’t even resist when I picked you up, you just went along with it.” She chuckled, her laugh holding a slight sinister feeling to it.

“G-grand master?” You squeaked. She seemed elated.

“Just call me Jean.” She said carrying you off to her office. You couldn’t help but wonder if even one drop was too much. But at least you got your answers… for her sake you hope its not permanent

Diluc

Maybe you were in over your head. You made muffins for the household and offered him one, you made sure it was his favorite, blueberry cinnamon. He thanked you and ate the whole thing. He even ate most of the muffins. They were gone before midday. But you knew it wouldn’t harm anyone who ate it. You had been hassled by Adelinde for the recipe when Milly came rushing to you.

“Ma-master Diluc requests your presence immediately.” Milly said urgently. You were a bit puzzled by her reaction. But you obliged heading to his office. You barely got the door open before you were suddenly pulled into a tight embrace.

“You… what did you do to me?” He growled. You tried to squirm as you panicked slightly.

“H-huh? W-whats going on? I- oh!” You were suddenly lifted as you pinned you to the wall.

“Those muffins… you.. you were already so tempting and now I can’t get you out of my mind. So what was it? A aphrodisiac?”

“I-it shouldnt be having those effects. I only did one drop… i just… wanted to see if you felt the same way.” You fessed up quickly. You were very conflicted, on one hand this was very scary, but also kind of hot. Being pinned against the wall, your crush pinning you and desperately pressing himself into you. Oh it was a battle between your sense and your heart.

“I knew it. You could’ve just asked you know? You have no excuse now.” His voice was so growly. Your body tingled as he spoke directly into your ear. “You’re going to take responsibility here. You are going to mine. I’ll make sure of that.”

Dehya

You had the biggest crush on Dehya. You hired her for a expedition you went on with your students but you ended up head over heel in love with her. Now that it was over you tried to find any excuse to spend time with or hang out with her. You wondered if sometimes she got annoyed or hated you because you worked for the Akademiya. But with that potion however you figured you would have a clear shot of figuring it out. Of course she wasnt a test dummy. You tested it on a lab rat who became quite cuddly with you. The rat survived with no damage done mentally or physically. So while you two were staying at inn together you slipped a drop in her cup.

“DEHYA!” You gasped as she just lifted you into the air, as if she were offering you to the sky, the. Lowering you to her chest. Then repeating that. You realized she was using you as s weight.

“Heh, you’re so light! It barely feels like I’m moving a muscle.” She smiles as you froze, not wanting to fall.

“Dehya please put me down this is so embarrassing!” You were quite worried about falling. You already had such a fragile back, you couldn’t worsen it even more.

“Why? You’re so cute like this. Heh, my little researcher is just so light.. makes me wonder how the wind never blew you away.” She teased. You weren’t even that skinny. She was just that strong. “I could keep you, just sling you over my shoulder and take you with me. Carry you around like a purse… a pretty purse. One I could fu-“

“DEHYA! Please put me down! Also are you drunk?” You were quite puzzled. None of your experiments yielded this. The mouse had simply become cuddly, your cat also became clingy for the day. Perhaps it was just the type of love. The mouse and your cat loved you as a caretaker so their love strengthened to make them more dependent on you than they were, her love must’ve been more than you thought.

“Heh.. I slipped out my flask for some firewater mixture I got. Wanted to see if you would have a sip or two.” That was concerning. You didn’t know she could be so devious. It was kind of exciting though… you had always wanted to try firewater.. getting drunk with her seemed like a great way to bond an- “stop thinking so much.” Dehya seemed angry as she swung you around once more.

“Please put me down! Dehya you’ll break something and that will be me!”

“Relax, I wouldn’t break something pretty like you.” She said, slinging you over her shoulder and tossing you onto the bed. You two had separate beds but you figured you wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight. “So pretty, so pliable and soft. My little researcher..” she purred. You were struggling to maintain your composure or mentally write notes. Her body ontop of you. “Mine.. all~~~ mine. I won’t let anyone else take you. If they try I’ll cut their fucking hand off.”

“Dehya that’s a crime!” You were alarmed. You couldn’t let her do such things. “Let’s just get some rest. You clearly need it!” You attempted to roll away but she blocked you.

“Mm i’d get away with it.. there’s plenty of spaces to hide a body in sumeru.” She purred as if that wasn’t the most sinister words you’ve heard from her.

“Dehya! No! No murder no using me like a purse, and no-“

“Are you trying to leave me.” She growled.

“Dehya i can’t even get up right now.” You sighed.

“Good. I’m going to use you… like a pillow. We can do more fun stuff when I’m sober. Besides… I wanna do it under the stars. And also so anyone nearby can hear you calling my name~” she giggled. You weren’t actually too Against that. That actually sounded kind of hot to you.

“Please just lay down so you can sleep!” An Idea popped into your mind. “I’ll give you a kiss if you get ready for bed and promise not murder anyone!”

“Just one? Nonono I want more than just kisses her.”she said smugly. “What’s stopping me from taking some right now? You clearly don’t mind.” You sighed.

“I’ll… go on that starry night date of yours if you just comply here.”

“You mean the one where I’ll f*ck you?”

“Yes.”

“Deal.”

Neuvillette

Truth be told the potion wasn’t for him. You had a crush on someone else and when they asked for some water you dropped that in there.

You didn’t know it was for the Iudex of Fonatine. Not until you were dragged into his office and he curled himself around you in his more.. dragon like form. His tail was massive spanning what must be several feet, you couldn’t measure it though considering the way he curled himself, tail included, around you.

“Mine… mine..” he growled as you stood still and shaking. You liked the Iudex sure but you knew he was way out of your league. Apparently he wasn’t.

“S-sir… i- i have work…” you weren’t sure how to get out of this. His grip was tight. His bigger body wrapped around you as he sniffed you. You couldn’t get a inch away.

“Mine.” His growl was more deeper.

“Sir! I-i can’t.. ngh..” you gasped as he held you so tight you had difficulty breathing.

“Say it.” His voice was more stern than you had ever heard. The kind of tone he’d have when dealing with a unruly court.

“S-say what?” Your voice trembled. You wondered if he could kill you with this grip.

“Say that you’re mine.” His voice reverberated throughout your body, making your hairs stand on end. His grip only getting tighter as you became more alarmed.

“I-I’m yours… I’m yours!” You pleaded. To your relief he lessened his grip letting you breathe. However he started instead to.. bite you. You jolted feeling his bite at your neck, it was more like a nibble but it was still a alarming sensation. “S-sir! We’re in your office..” you wished you never used that potion at all. Maybe instead thrown it away. You might not get out of this in one piece.

“I don’t care.. I want you…” His tongue lapped at your sweat as if he was… bathing you? Do dragons clean themselves like cats? Maybe not but it was a jarring sensation. “You’re mine.. I’m not going to let anyone else have you.” He growled as his hands on your uniform pulled it open.

[kromeihl]

🕸️ prev. | next.

“Hey.” Kenji spoke as he entered the kitchen, coming back from school. “I’m making katsu curry tonight.” Aunt Mina spoke as she chopped the ingredients. “You’re serious? Katsu curry?” He mutters as he opens the fridge to grab a drink after glancing at the table.

“Since when don’t you like katsu curry, huh?” His aunt asks, moving the ingredients to the counter placing it on a pan. Kenji slowly moves away and into the sink as aunt Mina looks at his face in surprise. “Oh my God..”

“What’s up?” Kenji glances at his aunt as he asks. “What happened to your face?” She says in concern as Kenji laughs it off, “Oh, I’m all right, I just— I got hit by a baseball in practice.” He waves off, “I’m fine.”

His aunt gives him a look, not buying his excuse. “Kenji— you don’t even play baseball that much anymo—“ she gets cut off as she sees her husband carry a box of trophies. “Ben Sato, don’t you even think about leaving that filthy box in my kitchen. She says with a glare as she wipes her hands with the towel draped on her shoulder.

“These are my.. bowling trophies.” He says, trying to convince her to let him put it there. Kenji smiles as he listens to his aunt and uncle’s banter, chuckling as his lips are placed on the opening of the plastic bottle of juice he’s drinking.

Uncle Ben looks at Kenji, noticing his state. “What happened to you?” He says as he moves down his box of trophies. “He got hit by a baseball. You’re lucky you didn’t get hit by a bat instead.” Aunt mina answers, making Kenji chuckle.

“Well, it would’ve been more interesting.” Ben adds as he winks at Kenji, having fun at riling up his wife. “Ben!” Aunt Mina scolded.

“It’s funny because it’s stupid and dangerous.” He adds, making his wife turn to him as Kenji lets out another hearty laugh, “Remember how we were stupid and dangerous?” “No.” Aunt Mina quickly replies, stirring the food in the pan. “Trust me we were.” Uncle Ben nods, looking at Kenji.

“All right, good to know I’m not the only one.” He smiles, looking down at the wet floor. “Hey, where’s the flood?” He asks, uncle Ben picking his box of trophies again. “Follow me. I’ll show you.” He walks away, barefoot. “You serious?” Kenji asks, “Yeah!” His uncle replies. “All right.” Kenji mutters under his breath, his aunt looking at them both, unamused, as she continued to cook.

Seriously…men.

After Kenji and his uncle talked in the basement while trying to find the leak, his uncle finally starts walking up, Kenji still cleaning up some boxes and organizing them. “Hey, before you come up, see if there’s anything else worth saving.” His uncle speaks as Kenji held a piece of frozen meat on his bruised lip. “Okay.” Kenji replied, still organizing the things inside a box.

He walks away, moving a box from a corner. He puts it down, suddenly noticing a briefcase with the initials, “HS” on top of the lock. He remembers in the car, on their way to this house when he was still a child, his dad had the same bag. Hayao was taking out a folder, with plenty of papers outside.

He blinks the memory stuck in his mind as he slowly picks it up, walking upstairs. His aunt and uncle were heard bickering, Kenji still fixated on the briefcase of his father. He walks and stops into their view, his aunt and uncle staring at him in shock. They look at each other before looking back at Kenji.

“I forgot all about that thing. It was your dad’s.” Uncle Ben speaks up, making Kenji turn his head to him. “Yeah..” He mutters, “He asked us to keep it safe for him.” Kenji felt his eyes tear up at the sight of his father’s belonging. Feeling a sense of nostalgia wash over him. “He saw it in the window of that leader shop in Okinawa. He was 19.”

Uncle Ben sat down on the chair, Kenji placing the leather bag on the table. “What does a 19-year-old kid need with a briefcase?” He jokes. “And guess who sold it to him.” Kenji shrugs, “Your mother.” Kenji glances at him in surprise, “Mom?” He smiles softly, remembering his mother.

Aunt Mina walks towards them, leaning on the wall as her heart clenches at the sight of Kenji smiling sadly. “That’s how they met!” Uncle Ben replies, nodding his head. “Dad asked you to keep this safe?” He glances at the bag before looking at his uncle, “Why? There’s nothing in here.” Aunt Mina smiles, walking a bit near.

“Hayao was a very secretive man, Ken.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” He laughs, remembering his father. He starts opening the bag, feeling paper. He pulls it out of the bag, shock present on his face as he stares at it. “Who’s that? Do you know who this is?” He furrows his brow in confusion as he shows the picture to his aunt and uncle.

“Some guy who worked with your dad, I guess.” Uncle Ben says, acting unsure. Kenji tries to show his aunt, but she doesn’t reply. Ken looks at it, feeling like the answer was incomplete. Aunt Mina suddenly walks towards him, wiping the table. “Okay, put it away from the table. We’re going to eat, and wash your hands, now.” She says sternly, earning a nod from Ken as he puts the picture back inside.

“Go on.” Uncle Ben motions him to move, Ken nods, taking the hint as he walks away. As soon as his figure disappears, uncle ben looks at aunt Mina, a hand falling over her mouth as she looked in disbelief. “Oh dear..” She mutters.

Kenji was in his room, opening the briefcase as he placed the things outside, on the floor, all organized. Pictures, coins, scientific calculator, pens, were all scattered there, even his dad’s ID with the name “ULTRA” printed on the top. Kenji’s eyes slowly move towards the eyeglasses’ case, hand moving to get it.

He pulls out the glasses from its case, staring at it longingly as he remembered his father wearing them.

He slowly walks over to the bathroom, blinking as if to get ready to put on the graded glasses, even if he already had perfect vision. He slowly put it on his face, closing his eyes and opening them as he tries to adjust at the change of view. He slowly looks at the mirror, trying to adjust to his new look. He flashes a smile, poses, and even adjusts his glasses to look cool.

He takes them off, putting it on his shirt as he went back to his room, sitting down on the carpet floor as he grabs his father’s ID. Suddenly a memory flashes in his mind.

“Ken, I need you to be good.” Hayao, pats his son’s shoulder gently. Little Kenji looked taken a back, looking down then back up to his father who was kneeling on his level. “Dad, you’re leaving me?” He said with a voice that almost cracked, his father gently smiles, trying to cheer his son up.

“Just for a little while, Kenji. Your mother and I have something to do, it’s very important.”

Kenji shakes his thoughts off, still staring intently at the ID. He bites his lip, his eyes landing on the word “ULTRA” again, making him sigh as he placed the ID down, grabbing the briefcase that was laid at the center of the floor.

He starts observing it, moving it from side to side. He opens the briefcase again, putting his hand inside as he searches for more, maybe he missed something. He groans, turning the bag to the back as he opens the zipper. And he was right, he did miss something.

He slowly moves his finger from the start to the end of the zipper. His finger gently moves across as it stops in the end, flicking it as the part of the border opened. He finds a folder.

Before he lets it out fully, he quickly stands up a bit to close the door and clicks a device that he created which locks his door. He then sat back down, grabbing the folder like notebook and opening it.

He traces his fingers softly against the paper, eyebrows furrowing as he bites his lip, studying the notes and equations his father had written down. “What the heck, dad? You’re some genius..” He mutters, still studying the writings intently. His eyes falls to a sentence, an equation at the bottom of the paper, with the title “ØØ Decay Rate Algorithm.” He mutters the words written. “Zero, zero, decay rate algorithm.”

Suddenly his thoughts were cut off as someone knocks on the door, making him rush to keep the things out of the way. “Wait! One sec.” He says while moving it around. He finally sits back at his chair, placing his arms on the desk as he moves his hand around the computer. “You can come in now.” He replies, moving his long fingers around the mouse.

Uncle Ben looks at him, hand on the door knob. “You okay, Ken?” Kenji nods, “Oh, yeah I’m okay. What’s up?” Ken nods his head, acting cool. Uncle Ben raises a brow, his eyes falling to the glasses hanging on his shirt. “Is that..?” Before uncle Ben could further ask, Kenji puts the glasses on, blinking once in a while to try and adjust to the grade again.

“Yeah, it’s dad’s.” Uncle Ben smiles, giving him a nod, “Well, you look just like Hayao.” Kenji gives a small smile at the comment, “Can I come in?” Kenji nods at his uncle’s request.

Uncle Ben nods, closing the door behind him as he grabs a rubik’s cube from Kenji’s desk as he walks. “Well, uhm.. Listen.” He starts. “I don’t have much education. You know that, Ken.” Uncle Ben, sits down on his bed, fidgeting with the rubik’s cube as Kenji turns his head to look at him.

“Like, damn, I stopped being able to help with your homework when you were ten. Don’t even mention the fact that I don’t know how baseball works.” He sighs, “What I’m trying to say is, I know it’s been rough for you without your dad.” He looks at Kenji, who had looked down. “And I know we don’t talk much about them.”

“No, uncle it’s all right.”

“No, it’s not all right, Ken. I know that. I wish I could change it, but I can’t.” He sighs.

“Onda Hakase.” Kenji’s uncle said, making Ken look at him seriously and with curiosity. “That’s the name of the guy in the picture with your dad. They worked together for years and they were close. But after that night we never saw him again. He never called.” Kenji felt shock as he takes in the information, but hiding it with a nod.

“Not once.” Uncle Ben nods back, looking down at the rubik’s cube, “Go figure.” He mutters, looking back up again, his eyes trail to the computer, with a picture of you. “She’s pretty.” He points his head to the picture making Kenji’s smile falter as he turns his head back to the monitor. It was a photo of [Name], the one he had taken when she was so serious into reading that book. Kenji felt his face heat up slightly, feeling embarrassed that he was caught with his monitor screen with you on it.

“Uncle Ben.” Kenji calls out before his uncle was about to leave, “You’re a pretty great dad.” He smiles, making uncle Ben feel a pang of warmth engulfing his heart at the comment.

It was a few seconds after uncle Ben had left, Ken staring at the monitor screen, it was still you on it. He places his chin on his hand, his elbow resting on his desk as he zooms in into the book you were reading. “All about Kaijus.” He snorts as he mutters out the title of the book, raising a brow. He had sworn he heard that name before, it just wasn’t clear to him anymore.

His eyes slowly move to your face, observing your features. The background didn’t matter to him at all, he was just starstruck at the sight of you. He quickly snaps his thoughts off, moving his mouse to move the tab to the side and search the internet.

He remembers the name of the guy that his uncle mentioned, swiftly typing on his keyboard. “Hayao Sato and Onda Hakase.” He quickly clicks on a link after it popped up, his eyes slightly widening as he reads.

“𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒

𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭?”

His father and Onda Hakase were beside each other, a picture also displayed on the screen as he continued to scroll relentlessly. Pictures were shown. “𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨.” His eyes slightly widened, knowing that his parents had already died wasn’t such a shock to him, it was just a really bad memory.

He searches again, “Dr. Onda Hasake.” Tapping on another link that says, “A World Without Weakness.” His eyes slowly scan Dr. Onda’s statement, tapping into even more links to get more information as he studies all of them. His eyes then slowly fall into an Intern Enrollment, which was now closed. His cursor slowly move to the picture of a building, the ULTRA.

He furrows his brows as he continued to do a little more research on it, making a plan to meet Dr. Onda. He sighs, exiting the tab and seeing the picture of you in his screen again. He smiles, “Uncle Ben’s right.” He turns his attention back to his plan, sighing.

This is just the start.

Hi lovies! I know what you’re thinking about, there’s less interaction of reader and ken together here but the next part will take a big turn👀 Just wanted to make y’all wait ‘cause patience is a must (or I just like playin’ with y’all.) I’m working on two stories, (one that pays up and this one on tumblr!) So sorry if I haven’t reached your expectations this time..😞

Thank you so much for the support and being patient. I’ve been busy lately, with much love 💕

This series will be under this tag— if you’re having difficulty finding other parts, check this: #ameijamsspiderken🕸️

taglist: @luneariaa @lovingyeet @aishallnotbefound @harperwasstaken1 @onlysarang @thewifeoflevi @mochminnie @zayai

[pitchsidestories]

have yourself a merry little Christmas II Kim Little x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1115

summary: Kim, the Arsenal team and reader are strolling through a Christmas market together. requested

author's note: dear readers, we hope you enjoy our oneshot, your feedback is always appreciated.❤️❤️

Visiting the London Christmas market with the Arsenal team became an annual festive tradition for your teammates and you. The delicious scent of cinnamon and chocolate was in the air as you made your way through the buzzing streets, the slightly wet cobblestones reflected the warm fairy lights surrounding you.

“Girls, where’s Kim and y/n?”, Leah stopped moving alarmed by her realization that you two were suddenly missing from the group.

“They were right behind us.”, Beth shrugged innocently. The striker’s remark only intensified the blonde defenders frowning lines on her forehead.

“Kyra, no!”, Alessia laughed, trying to prevent the young Australian to get anymore chocolate from one of the many stands, so she wouldn’t suffer from a sugar shock.

“What?”, the midfielder responded sounding completely guileless.

“You can’t have chocolate right now, we’ve lost our captain and her wife which means we need to find them.”, Leah shook her head impatiently.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine.”, Kyra waved it off unbothered by the dramatics of the vice-captain. With a huge smile on her lips, she added eyes gleaming joyfully: “But there’s hot chocolate over there.”

“It can’t be as good as Swiss chocolate.”, Lia grumbled.

“Amor.”, Mariona chuckled amused.

“Maybe try it before you slam it.”, Beth suggested winking.

“See, listen to her.”, the Spanish midfielder smirked at the older Swiss woman who still looked unconvinced at the chocolate laying in front of her.

“Oi, I think I saw them.”, Katie interrupted them excitedly, before the team could reach them though, Kim and you disappeared in the crowd again.

In front of a booth where one could win prices your wife came to a halt. Immediately, the Scottish woman’s light eyes spotted something she wanted to get for you. The unfolding scene felt like one of those cheesy Hollywood rom coms you loved while your lover hated them with a passion.

“Kim, you don’t have to do that.”, you crossed your arms in front of your chest

“Do what?”, Kim frowned.

“To win that stuffed animal for me.”, you finished your sentence with a smile on your face.

“Who said I wanted to win it for you.”, the midfielder countered teasingly.

“So, it’s for your niece and nephew?”, you asked her.

“I didn’t say that either.”, she reminded you grinning. After a few rounds of playing, Kim triumphantly handed the stuff animal to you, announcing proudly: “Here this is yours.”

“Thank you.”, you muttered too stunned to say something else.

“You’re welcome.”, your wife replied.

Nervously you put a loose string of hair behind your ear: “Kimmy, you don’t think we’re too old for plushies?”

“What? No.”

“It’s really cute.”, you admitted touched by her soft gesture. Most people in your life were getting married, buying houses and having babies, the latter one you failed at it, you two were trying again in the new year. But for now, you were grateful for what you did had an amazing wife and a wonderful team which were also your found family.

“Let’s go, maybe we’ll find the others again.” Kim cleared her throat.  

You nodded slowly: “Good idea. It’s a team bonding event after all.“

“Exactly. But do you want to get some mulled wine first? I know you like that.”, Kim suggested, pointing into the direction of a stand close by. The smell of spices and warm alcohol wafted over to you.

You smiled, admiring that she remembered: “I do.“

“I’ll get us some.“, Kim said and queued up before you could protest.

A few minutes later, she pressed a hot mug into your hand. You leaned forward until the steam touched your cheeks, inhaling the smell. “Thanks, you’re the best.“

“Because I bought you a drink?”, Kim chuckled before taking a sip from her mulled wine.

“No, for… everything.”

A crease formed between her eyebrows as she studied you sternly: “I’m not doing anything.“

“Not through my eyes.“, you said, carefully drinking from the hot beverage in front of you.

Your wifes face softened: “That’s sweet of you.“

You hid your face behind your mug while taking another sip: “It’s the truth.“

“That’s just the mulled wine.“

You giggled about how bad Kim was at accepting compliments: “I’ve not had that much of it yet! But you know it’s Christmas soon and you know what they say about Christmas. That you tell the truth.“

“I never heard of that before.“, the midfielder grinned.

“Sadly it’s not from me. It’s a quote from Love, actually.“

“Never seen that.“

You blinked at her in disbelief: “You didn’t? We need to change that as soon as we get home.“

“I don’t even like Christmas movies.“, she complained. That fact definitely wasn’t new to you. It was almost impossible to get her to watch anything Christmas related.

But before you could protest and explain to her that not all Christmas movies are predictable and cheesy, you found yourself right under a plastic mistletoe. Admittedly, that was even too cheesy for you.

“Oh.“, you said as you looked upwards.

Kims eyes followed your gaze to the mistletoe: “And that’s exactly why. They’re all so stupid and clichéd. Like the tradition that you have to kiss under a mistletoe…“

You silenced her with one raised eyebrow: “You didn’t hate tradition when you went down on one knee for me years ago.“

Kim simply rolled her eyes in response: “Oh please.“

“Yeah, right, forget it. Oh, look who’s over there.“

A group of blonde girls stood out from the crowd. You immediately recognised your teammates.

“Oh.“

“Let’s go back over to them.“, you suggested but when you were about to take a step forward, Kims hand snaked around your wrist, holding you back.

“It’s bad luck.“

She nodded upwards to the plant above your heads.

You bit back a smile: “I thought you detested Christmas traditions.“

“I do. But we can’t risk it, can we?”, the Arsenal captain grinned sheepishly.

“No, we can’t.”, you agreed mirroring her smile before her lips met for a short, but sweet kiss.

Both of you were quickly interrupted by Leah’s statement, her arms were crossed in front of the chest: “Underneath the mistletoe.”

“Ew.”, Kyra grimaced who got playfully elbowed into her side through Steph.

The older defender warned her smiling: “Shut it.”

Expectantly Alessia looked at Kim and you: “ Are you coming now? We want to go on the Ferris wheel?”

“Yes, we’re coming.”, you told her beaming.

“Don’t worry.”, your wife added in a light-tone.

Somewhere in the background, have yourself a merry little Christmas was playing, and little Christmas was about to be soon indeed. The air was already full of laughter, joy and the promises of a New Year.

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

[hier--soir]

a lover's pinch | six

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: joel and rachel have dinner. a confession is made. warnings/tags: au, university professor joel, age gap [20 something years diff], ethically dubious relationship due to inherent power imbalance, JOEL POV, sexting/nudes, joel has bad restaurant etiquette lmao, descriptions of arousal, references to past smut, the guilt and shame that sometimes go so neatly hand in hand with wanting, miller daughter cameo, mild angst, discussion of a car accident. word count: 4.8k series masterlist | main masterlist a lover's pinch playlist a/n: just a reminder that this is set within ALP5, when joel goes to have dinner w rachel. just a short little peek into my beloved professor’s mind, and some context between j & r. hope you like it x follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing this is part six of ALP. you can read the previous parts here: one, two, three, four, five.

Sunday.

“Nina thinks it’ll rain tomorrow. Overcast too, probably.”  

There’s a faint hum through the phone as she speaks. A vague buzz that crackles and pops in almost every beat of silence. Not for the first time, Joel wishes she would let him buy her a new phone.

A gust of wind whips against his face and he cringes, turning his back against the draft.

“Okay,” he replies. “That’s okay, right?”

“It’s fine,” she grumbles. “Wanted to take you to this bar, though. They do these tacos we love. Nina says it’s the best Mexican place in New York.”

“Now how many times do I have to tell you there’s no good Mexican food in New York?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Joel can practically hear her rolling her eyes. He chuckles.

“What time are you coming ‘round?” Ellie asks. “I’ll be in the studio for most of the day, but we normally get home around five. Could do dinner around eight?”

Joel hesitates, and then raises his voice to be heard over the rushing wind. “I was actually thinkin’ I’d come see your studio.”

A moment of humming, crackling silence.

“I’d love to see some of your work,” he continues, peering in through the window of the restaurant. He thinks he can see Rachel through the frosted glass – her mess of dark curls vaguely visible, tucked away somewhere in the corner of the space. He hears Ellie breathing through the phone as he looks. “And s’been too long since you showed your old man any of your paintings.”

“Joel,” she huffs, and it’s that smartass, pained tone that has him grinning wider than anything she’s said up until this point.

It’s few and far between lately – hearing that name coming from her mouth. Joel. Something that’s been intermittent for almost a decade, and has been steadily decreasing since she moved to New York five years ago.

Joel, Dad, Joel, Dad, Joel, Dad.

Joel for years, and then one day—Dad.

It was Summer; Ellie was eighteen and he was thirty-nine, and this word that he’d grown so accustomed to hearing suddenly felt like a fist squeezing around his heart. It became something new, something different. Because Joel knew that, for her, family had always meant mistrust. Had always meant loneliness. Knew that sometimes her childhood felt like a knife stuck in her throat, and on those days, she had to decide whether to leave it in and stem the blood flow, or pluck out the blade and watch everything turn red.

And then one day, years on, it seemed that she’d drawn that dagger enough times. The blood stopped, the mistrust fell away, and—Dad.

Dad to Sarah and now, finally, Dad to Ellie.

“Ellie,” he imitates her tone, well-versed in mirroring her attitude after so many years of practice.

A voice rears up directly behind him and Joel stiffens, glancing over his shoulder to watch a couple exit the restaurant. Coat collars dragged up to protect their necks, arms linked as they smile and start down the street. He imagines Rachel sitting inside, alone, and his smile falters. He knows he should go back in soon, but can’t quite bring himself to cut this short.

“Yeah, okay,” Ellie answers finally, and he can feel the weight that rests in those words.

The admission, but also everything that goes unsaid alongside it. A silent acknowledgement of years spent reading between the lines, trying to know each other; years of her locking her bedroom door, hiding her journals, her artbooks, her pencils. Anything to keep someone else from seeing the way she expresses herself – from understanding that she feels anything. And this yeah, okay – well, it’s as close to I love you as the two of them ever get.

Joel says, “I’ve been missin’ you, kiddo.”

And she says, “I know.”

More silence. More contemplation of how to respond, how to keep emotions level when he is not Joel in this moment, but Dad.

Plucking out the blade.

“Ten tomorrow morning. I’ll send you the address,” Ellie says after a while. “Don’t be late or I’m not showing you shit, old man.”

Heat blasts his face when he steps back inside the restaurant. He tugs his jacket off as he wanders his way toward their little corner table inside San Vecchio—old saint. A small Italian place that Rachel likes to visit whenever she’s the city, and has slowly but surely grown on him.

When he gets close enough to see the table his stomach drops, face twisting into something apologetic as he lowers himself into his chair.

“Shit,” Joel mutters, staring at their food. Brought out while he was on the phone, sitting untouched; she didn’t even pick up her fork in his absence. A shameful heat rises in his face. “I’m sorry, Rach.”

“Hon,” she just laughs him off. “It’s okay, it only just came out.”

He nods, grateful, and lets her pour him a generous glass of wine. Red. A bottle of the Carignan, please, he remembers her telling the waiter. Although, when he takes a sip, he can’t tell the difference between this and the twenty-dollar cabernet he buys once a fortnight from the grocer.

They press the lips of their glasses together and murmur soft calls of cheers and another conference done, the words all but swallowed up by the raucous sounds around them.

“How is she then?” she prompts, never able to tame her curiosity.

“Ellie?” Joel’s eyebrows jut up, and he sets his wine glass down. “Good, yeah, good. It was nice to hear her voice, I, uh, I’ve missed too many of that kid’s calls over the past few months.”

Rachel nods, and when she smiles his chest feels a little lighter, because it’s the type of smile that says it’s okay, everything is okay, you’re a good dad, you took the call. And she has always had that kind of soothing effect on him, since the day he met her all those years ago. There’s this compassion to her character; a warmth akin to that of a sister. Smarter than hell and kinder than she’s ever been given credit for.  

“Are you seeing her while you’re in town?”

“Mhm, tomorrow.”

“Well, that will be lovely,” she beams and takes a sip of her wine. Carignan stains her mouth. “Is she still with Nina?”

“She is.”

“God, that must be, what, four years they’ve been together now? That’s great, Joel.”

“I’m happy for her,” he smiles, gripping his fork. “They’re renting out this art studio together at the moment – Nina’s an artist too, did I—?”

“Yeah, you told me.”  

“Yeah, they’ve been using the space to work on some new stuff. Ellie was tellin’ me ‘bout this gallery downtown, how they’ve offered her some exhibit space. Gonna have a show down there in March.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing,” Rachel’s eyebrows raise, top lip quirking into a soft smirk as she twirls her fork through a mess of red pasta. “Do you think they’ll get married? Follow in Sarah and Tim’s footsteps?”

Joel can’t help but laugh at the idea. He tries to imagine Ellie and Nina in a chapel, or on a beach, or anywhere, professing their love for one another with friends and family watching on. Tries to imagine Ellie, all tattoos, messy hair, and gangly arms, tucked into a suit or a dress. The image doesn’t come easily.

“I don’t really think they’re the type,” he admits, and Rachel laughs too then.

“No,” she agrees. “I guess not.”

She asks more questions about the girls, the way she always does. Asks about Sarah’s job at the primary school, if teaching is all she thought it would be.

And something like halfway through their meal, around a mouthful of food, Rachel says, “You know I’m glad we’re here, because I need to ask you something.”

Joel’s hands still, face going slack as he meets her eye. There’s something conniving in them. Something sly in the way she smiles, baring her teeth at him. It makes his stomach twist into a tight, burning knot. What does she know?

“Okay,” he says slowly, lowering his knife.

“So,” she hums. “At the conference yesterday…”

“Yeah?” he rasps, blunt nails digging into his thigh beneath the table.

“I couldn’t ask you about it because I didn’t want anyone to overhear us, but… did you see what Professor Neilson was wearing? That blazer?”

“Jesus,” he deflates.

“Oh, come on,” she sputters, and there’s lipstick stained on her front teeth and he finds himself smiling too, relaxing.

“You’re a filthy gossip, you know that?” he raises an eyebrow.

She grins back at him. Winks and says, “Don’t act like you don’t love it, Miller.”

So, for an hour they eat, and talk, and drink. Don’t stop until their cheeks are sore from smiling and their ribs are tight and aching from laughter.  

With full bellies and rosy cheeks, they scrape their plates clean. Lips purse and pucker around final sips of wine, and then… and then Rachel reaches across the table and places her hand atop his.

And Joel has never noticed that she has sunspots across her knuckles. Never noticed that she wears a ring on her pinkie finger, one with a dark emerald stone in the middle. Never noticed the thin white scar beside the nail on her index. She squeezes his hand, the pad of a finger skimming his wrist, and he remembers how he held someone else’s wrist only hours before this. Felt her skin beneath his fingers – the frailty of the tendons and veins beneath it, swimming with life as his thumb pressed down.   

Joel feels his eye twitch. Works to keep his face relaxed, calm. And when she leaves her hand there, he laughs a little. A choked, wary sound. Turns his hand over so his knuckles are against the table and his palm is against her palm and squeezes once in return. Rachel isn’t smiling anymore.

“You okay, Rach?”

“Do you…” she pauses, mouth twisting into a shy smile as she clears her throat. Joel feels something heavy settle in his stomach. A type of dread that curdles and burns like red sky at morning. “Do you remember when Sarah was in that car accident a few years back?”

Joel swallows. Her hand feels too warm against his, her palm tacky with sweat.

“We were… we were at work, and… and Tim called you and told you she was in the hospital—”

He almost cringes at the memory. Her husband’s name flashing across his phone screen during a lecture. Stomach churning and why is Tim calling me, heart racingand Tim never calls. Remembers hearing those panicky breaths down the line and thinking Texas and Maine had never felt further apart than in that moment.

“You drove me to the airport,” he nods. His knuckles feel tight – he wants to pull his hand back and crack them. Wants to feel the joints pop beneath his skin, let the tension slip away like a sigh.

“You were so distraught,” Rachel sighs. “I’d never seen you like that. So uncomposed, so… chaotic.”

Joel huffs out an awkward laugh and tries to pull his hand back, but she squeezes harder. Keeps it in place beneath her own.

“What’s this all about?” his eyebrows furrow, face pinching into a sort of scowl. He can feel it, he can always feel it when his face does this. So unpleasant, so unwelcoming, and he knows it. Just never figured out how to stop it from happening.

“We were in the car,” she continues, and her eyes are so earnest now. So wide, the whites shining, her lashes darkened and fanned out around them in a way he’s never seen before. She’s wearing makeup. “And you didn’t even have a bag packed, you just wanted to get to your girl. Needed to see her with your own eyes, make sure she was okay.”

His jaw feels tight inside his head; teeth clenched painfully, digging into the gums around his molars as the memory plays in his mind.

Tim’s voice wavering, crying, she was unconscious when they pulled her out.

His hand is numb beneath Rachel’s. She’s fine, he reminds himself. Sarah’s fine, that was years ago.

“I think I knew then,” she says quietly.

“Knew what?” Joel tries to keep his voice level. Ignoring the odd feeling that twists in his chest and has his heart racing faster, so much faster than normal, faster than it has ever raced for Rachel.

“That I loved you.”

It’s almost dreamlike, the way everything seems to blur and fade around them after she says it. Or perhaps nightmarish is the right word. A sharp pain sparks between his ribs and he feels his body stiffen and then loosen all at once. Face, shoulders, hand beneath hers – everything softens. Fuck. His mouth tastes like sandpaper, tongue resting fat and gravelly against the roof of it as she stares at him.

When he doesn’t say a word, she says, “I’d always known you were so kind, so generous to the people around you. But to see the way you love? It’s… shit, Joel, I just knew.”

He’s convinced his throat is tightening.

“And I held it in all of these years, and I’m sorry for that. I was just never sure of how you felt, and you never tried anything with me, never hinted at any feelings. But after the conference yesterday...”

“The conference?” he whispers. He pictures that bench outside NYU. Remembers the nasty wind, an empty champagne flute on the ground, the side of his body going hot where it pressed against hers.

“Walking around that hall together,” Rachel smiles. “You kept holding your arm out for me to hold, and I thought, god, maybe this is it. Maybe you actually feel the same.”

Joel imagines that this must be what people describe as critical velocity. Everything that once was smooth turns turbulent. Every second, every minute, that he’s allowed himself to careen forward, wanton and reckless, on the deliciously destructive course he’s set for himself – all of it just for someone close to him to step directly into his line of fire.

And his silence is so painfully telling. He knows immediately when it’s been too long, too much quiet, too many seconds of nothing said, of no reassurances offered. The muscle in her jaw ticks, and a vertical line appears between pinched eyebrows. Confusion, surprise, hurt. Her hand pulls back, and he tucks his in his lap quickly.

“Oh,” she whispers. “Oh, shit.”  

Joel is suddenly certain that he’s going to be sick. His hands shake beneath the table, a violent tap tap tap where they’re clasped against the inside of his thigh.

“Rachel—”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Please, don’t apol—”

“I shouldn’t have said—”

“Rachel,” Joel’s voice raises, just a little, just enough to make her pause, enough for conversation at the table beside them to halt for a second. “If anythin’, I should be the one apologisin’.”

She laughs; a sad, quiet thing. Shakes her head at him.

“I guess I… somewhere in my head, I thought you knew,” Rachel says quietly. “Thought you….” The unspoken words hang in the air between them. Thought you felt the same.

And it hurts. His skin prickles at the sound of her voice; laced with pain, with rejection. Your fault, he thinks. That pain is your fault.

“Is there someone else?” she asks then, and her voice is so feeble. So small, so un-Rachel that it makes his chest feel tight. Your fault.

Joel sighs, cringes, fumbles for the right words. The words to explain something that he himself doesn’t even fully understand. Words that will make her feel better, that will put her at ease. Put him at ease.

“It’s not….” he trails off, half-prepared to lie. But then he meets her gaze. Sees the tears that have settled on her waterline and knows he can’t. Wants to hate her for asking, wants to beg her to take back the question. But in the end he just admits quietly, “I suppose there is.”

She sniffles, and when she speaks again, it almost sounds like a question.

“You never mentioned anyone.”  

“I know,” Joel nods. “I’m sorry, I think I just… it’s complicated, and it… it’s new.”

“New,” she repeats softly. “And you never… you never thought of me that way.” This time it isn’t posed like a question. There is nothing open ended about it. Instead it’s resigned; final.

The corners of her mouth are downturned, and her lower lip wobbles, a movement so miniscule that he could have missed it if his eyes weren’t trained on her face. Trying painfully to understand this situation that feels as if it has crept up on him in his sleep. 

“I’m sorry,” Joel finds himself saying again, and he thinks his eyes must be wide, unblinking, because they’re dry, and he feels panicked.  

In his mind all he can think of is every cup of coffee in her office, every borrowed book, every sly joke in the corridor at work. Comforting smiles offered at conferences, snarky notes passed back and forth during faculty meetings. His friend. One of the truest, longest, most persevering ones in his life. One so dear to his heart. The idea of all of that being no more seems almost too painful to contemplate in the middle of a restaurant, with your fault thundering in his chest.

Rachel waves a hand. Feigns nonchalance and offers a watery smile.

“I’m happy for you, Joel,” she says. He doesn’t miss the waver in her voice, nor the harsh splash of crimson humiliation that stains the skin of her face. “I am. Really.”

Except he doesn’t know how to respond to that, doesn’t know what there is to be happy for. Can only watch her face. Can only sit, and stare like a fool at the way the skin beneath her eyes tightens as she draws back tears.

“I’m—” Rachel swallows. Sucks in a huge breath and flattens her palms against the table. Her napkin, stained with soft blots of red and brown, is pressed beneath the fingers of her left hand. The one with the sunspots and the ring and the scar. “Sorry, if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I’m going to use the restroom—”

“Rach,” he tries, hand reaching across the table for—for what? Joel isn’t sure. What is there to do? To say? “What can I do?”

“It’s okay,” she stands, holds a hand out to silence him. Steps out from the behind table and squeezes past him. Her fingers brush against his arm as she goes. “It’s fine, I’m fine, I just need a second to freshen up.”

Joel watches her weave through the restaurant, shifting around tables, until her back disappears through a door at the far end of the room.

There’s a minute of painful quiet. A sort of buzzing in his ears that won’t go away. For a moment all he’s aware of is the look of disdain coming from the woman on the table to his left, and the sharp pain in his chest, and then the sounds of the restaurant come rushing back in. Cutlery scraping against plates, conversation, laughter, the sound of a bell ringing. And something buzzing, really truly buzzing this time. Something against his leg.

Joel pulls his phone out of his pocket and tries not to wince when he sees her name on the screen.

Are you enjoying your dinner?

The glance he spares over his shoulder is short, searching, looking to see if she’s coming back yet. Don’t make this worse than it already is.

Yeah, the restaurant is nice.

What are you doing? 

Well my bags are packed, and I just tucked myself into bed

Something tightens in his stomach, and he knows what she’s doing, knows this game so well. The way she always manages to creep beneath his skin. Knows exactly what to say, to do, to have him hanging on her every word.

His fingers hover over the screen, contemplating a response.

Is that right? he types out, and then grimaces, backspacing quickly.  

Want some company? he types next.

“Christ,” Joel mutters under his breath, erasing that too.

Embarrassment itches across his body. And then guilt, like a tidal wave chaser rushing to cool his inflamed skin, as he notices Rachel walking back toward him. You fucking asshole.

He straightens in his seat, tucking his phone out of sight as she hovers beside the table, eyes darting between him and her empty chair. She doesn’t sit down again.

“I think,” she takes a deep breath. “I think I should probably go. Early flight to catch, you know? I need to get some rest.”

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

He can feel his mouth hanging open, dumbfounded, ridiculous, as his brain scavenges for something to say. Never the right words, never when he needs them. Not for her, and not for Rachel.

Rachel reaches for her purse, and he holds out a hand. “Hey, let me… I’ll cover this.”

She pauses, nods. “Thanks.”

“Course,” he says gruffly. She pulls her coat from the back of her chair, wraps it around herself and does the buttons up slowly. Her mascara is smudged. “Hey, Rach, can we… should we talk about this some more? I don’t want to—”

“Not tonight,” she interrupts sharply. “Please, Joel, I’m sorry, just…. not tonight.”

—lose you.

“Sure, okay.” His throat is tight, your fault lodged heavy against his Adam’s apple. “You need help to get a taxi?”

“I’m fine,” she places a hand lightly on his shoulder, and presses her thumb against the skin beneath his collarbone. “Get home safe, okay? We can talk in Maine.”

“In Maine,” he repeats, and the words split and sour inside his mouth. “Okay.”

He doesn’t watch her leave. Doesn’t want to have to see her retreating from him. Doesn’t want to think about if this will be the last time they get to do this.

The waiter returns and he pays the bill, hastily jotting down a generous tip, and offers the women at the table on his left a tight-lipped smile before standing up.

When he finally makes his way outside, he finds a tax idling by the curb, lights on. The driver notices Joel staring; rolls down the window and raises his eyebrows. Where to?

Joel only shakes his head a little, leans his back against the dank, cold brick wall behind him. He takes a deep, shuddering breath before opening his phone, and sends two words.

Show me.

And then, when she doesn’t respond for a moment, he sends another message. Insistent now. Desperate, and even more desperate not to let it show.

I know you want to show me, sweetheart.

And when she does show him, it takes all of his might not to let this guilt consume him. Takes everything not to ruminate on how quickly he can shift from I’m sorry to Show me.

Because her skin.

So much skin.

Soft, smooth; shrouded in a robe that covers more than he’d like, and he knows how it tastes. Knows how it feels. Could press his fingers, his lips, his nose, to every part of it that he’s touched, in the exact same places, from memory alone.

It’s cold outside – windy, the beginnings of tomorrow’s storm twisting through the air. He feels it snake across his neck, curl beneath the lip of his collar, as he takes in the curve of her breast, the stiff point of her nipple, peeking out from behind white fabric. His cock stiffens in his pants.

He gazes at the softest part of her stomach, the thatch of curls that cover her mound, and wants to press his palms against the plush of her thighs. Wants to lay himself atop her, feel that skin against his again, hear her whimper and moan beneath the broad weight of him as he slips inside her. Wants to snatch her finger from her mouth and glide it inside his own. With her slick and her skin against his tongue, he’d sink his teeth in and inhale that warmth, that beating, pulsating force that he’s found himself so intoxicated by.

And to think, only hours ago, he was doing just that. Lowering himself to the ground in a public bathroom and drinking her down. Feeling the muscles in her thighs pull tight and then loose against the sides of his head. Anything to satisfy the craving that only she seems to inspire in him.

Resolute, persistent – a probing, prodding thing that nips at his heels and thrusts him forward at a double time pace.

A hunger that follows him down the nights and down the days.

A hunger that can only ever be sated like the taking of a sacrament – on his knees, devotion in his eyes.

Jesus.

Are you wet?

You know I am.

Are you touching yourself?

Joel’s jaw tightens. He holds his breath and waits. Can’t quite tell what would be worse; knowing that she’s touching herself, alone, thinking about him, or that she isn’t, that she’s waiting for him. He can feel his cock leaking against his thigh.

No.

He exhales heavily, and the faintest hint of a groan slips out with it. Fuck, pull yourself together.

Joel’s fingers float over the keyboard, and for a moment he thinks of Rachel.

Thinks that if he could only bring himself to look up, to look away from her, he might be able to see Rachel still. The back of her coat, the dark scrawl of her hair, disappearing into the night. Joel thinks of the tears in her eyes, taunting him, threatening to spill spill spill, to streak down rosy cheeks and wet the hollow of her throat. Feels something throb and crack in his chest – a painful, resounding ache that hurts so much like fear, like loss. 

Your fault, your fault, your fault.

And wouldn’t that be so much easier? If he were to look away, to chase his friend down the street and tell her that he was wrong, that he wants her, that it makes sense for them to be together. Wouldn’t it be easier if that were true?

But he doesn’t stop looking at her. He thinks of Pothos, of Himeros, and stares at the soft curve of her stomach, the indent of her belly button.  Looks at the way her lower lip rests below her finger and pictures it swollen, slick with a medley of her spit and his. Even notices a small mark, nestled in the crevice between her hip and the top of her thigh. A fading remnant of where his teeth had once pinched – like a tangible little footprint, whispering that he was there.

Longing and desire flame between the cracks of his ribs; a bright white heat that curls itself around your fault until he manages to shake the thought.

What was it that Kaminsky said? There was no mythology: Odysseus hanged himself. Homer drank to death and stank of mud.

And perhaps he was right; for there is no witness to this. No being over his shoulder, God or mortal, to lay their eyes upon this moment and understand that all he has ever known of love is deprivation. That fondest, blindest, weakest part of his being that has always yearned for, or perhaps grieved over, this love that once seemed so intangible and now, at last, maybe he has been deemed worthy of.

Alone so long, living in a body grown accustomed to such quiet. Familiar with no touch other than that of his own rough palms. And now… the intensity of it shakes within him. The urge to sink his teeth in like a bad dog and hold, hold, hold, to consume and be consumed, and never yield to anyone who wants to take this away from him.

No, there is no looking away from that, from her. Joel feels the noose tighten around his neck the longer he stares – a dog on the leash of its own longing, that need only sharpening with every second that dares to pass.

And Joel knows that nothing has ever been easy. Considers the idea that maybe that’s how it was supposed to be for him. And perhaps he doesn’t want easy, doesn’t want simple. No – Joel was always drawn to the flame.

Good.

Dinner finished early. Where are you?

And that flame welcomes him now in kind. The arms of a lover spread open for embrace; the address of her hotel sent directly to his phone.

Joel looks up and makes eye contact with the taxi driver again. Light still on.

Where to?

**the Kaminsky mentioned in this is Ilya Kaminsky, and the quote is from Dancing in Odessa.

thank you for reading! x

[estrellami-1]

Steve felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. The TV at Family Video was turned on to the news station (the tiebreaker when he and Robin couldn’t agree), and a reporter was saying something about a gruesome murder, limbs snapped, teenage boy suspect, and it all swirled and came together until Steve saw the trailer in the background.

Oxygen evaded him. He gasped, trying to remember how to breathe, how to stay grounded, because freaking out wasn’t going to help anything right now-

“Steve!” The front door banged open and Dustin ran in. “How many phones do you have?”

Steve blinked at Dustin. Managed a breath, another one. His brain still felt like it was swimming through molasses. “Why?”

Dustin rolled his eyes like it should’ve been obvious and gestured to the TV. “I’m gonna call Eddie. And, like, everyone. You know what situation this is, right? And that’s Eddie’s trailer. And he doesn’t know anything about this.”

“I know,” Steve murmured, thinking. “Okay, let’s go.” He spared a glance Robin’s direction. She nodded.

Dustin frowned. “Go where?”

“To go find Eddie. I know where he’ll be.”

“How? Steve? Steve, you don’t even know him. Steve?”

Steve ignored the questions. “Get buckled. You got your radio?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good, keep it on you.” Still ignoring all of Dustin’s questions, he peeled out of the parking lot, making his way to the place he and Eddie had promised each other they’d go if shit hit the fan.

He pulled up to the shed and gestured for Dustin to follow as he cautiously walked inside.

“Eddie?” Dustin asked. “Eddie, it’s Dustin, are you here?”

Steve should’ve said something, should’ve let Eddie hear his voice, but it’s too late because he touched the tarp Eddie’s under and suddenly his back was against the wall, a broken beer bottle against his neck. “Eddie,” he murmured calmly, even as his pulse skyrocketed. He vaguely heard Dustin saying something about his mother. “Eddie, put down the bottle, please. It’s okay. It’s just me and Dustin. No one followed us here. I know what you saw, I know what happened. I know you didn’t kill Chrissy, Eddie. I know you’re scared and don’t know what’s going on, but we’re gonna help you, okay? You’re not alone.”

Eddie dropped the bottle with a slight gasp, eyes widening as he realized who he’s looking at. “Shit,” he whispered, gently placing his hands on Steve’s shoulders. They were shaking. “Steve. Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine,” he promised, his own hands finding Eddie’s waist. “And you? Are you okay?”

“Christ, Steve, I dunno.” He let out a weak laugh and dropped his head to Steve’s shoulder. “She just… she was sayin’ she thought she was crazy, paranoid, and then she’s in the air, and the sound, Steve, Jesus fuck, I’m never gonna forget it as long as I live, and then she- she’s dead, and-”

“I know,” Steve promised quietly, pulling him into a hug. “I know. It’ll be okay. C’mon, my house is safe. We can go there, lay low. Want me to get Wayne too? The trailer’s a crime scene right now, he’s gotta go somewhere else anyways.”

“Yeah. Please. Just… gimme a minute.”

“I’ll give you all the minutes,” Steve promised nonsensically. “We’ll get everyone together, figure out how to beat it. We’ve done it before.”

“Um,” Dustin said, “what the fuck?”

“Watch it,” Steve warned, tracing Eddie’s spine with his palm. “Did you really think the former king of Hawkins High didn’t buy from the best dealer in town?”

Dustin stared at him, disbelieving. “You’ve never gotten high in your life. I don’t think you’ve ever relaxed in your life.”

Eddie murmured something in Steve’s ear that caused him to roll his eyes and pinch Eddie’s side, smiling when he twitched. “You shush,” he admonished before turning back to Dustin. “I have gotten high. I stopped when I started watching you and the rest of the ankle-biters.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Okay, so explain this. Explain how cuddling your drug dealer is normal behavior.”

Steve tapped Eddie’s back, who tilted his head up again to whisper into Steve’s ear. “You sure?” Steve asked, and Eddie nodded.

“‘S fine.”

“M’kay. If you say so.” He stroked a hand down Eddie’s back again before returning his attention to Dustin. “Eddie’s not just my drug dealer. He’s my boyfriend.”

Dustin blinked. “You’re not gay.”

“Nope. It’s called bisexual. ‘S when you like both guys and girls.”

Dustin narrowed his eyes. “But… Robin?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Platonic, like I’ve told you a million times before, you twerp.”

Dustin shook his head. “Wait. You and Eddie?”

“Christ, I’d have better luck talking to a brick at this point. Yes, me and Eddie. Is that gonna be a problem for you?”

“Well, yeah,” Dustin said, like it was obvious, unaware of the way Steve and Eddie and both stiffened at his words. “You’re, like, my brothers or some shit. I don’t want my brothers dating each other. Besides, you both could do so much better.”

Eddie snorted and looked up at Dustin. “Not sure that’s how that works, bud.”

“Sure it is,” Dustin shrugged.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Not the point,” he reminded them both. “Eds, c’mon, let’s get you to my house. Dustin, can you walkie everyone? Tell them to meet us there?”

Dustin shook his head, but brought the walkie up to his mouth anyways. “Uh… guys? We’re meeting at Steve’s house ASAP. Over.”

“That’s not proper form, dipshit. Over.”

“Shut the fuck up, how about that? Over.”

“Fucking hell,” Steve murmured, grabbing the walkie from Dustin. “Listen up, twerps, my house, twenty minutes, move it. Over and out.”

Eddie began to grin at Steve. “‘S kinda hot, Stevie.”

“Oh, god,” Dustin said, screwing up his face. “No. Nope. We’re not going there. Just… let’s go. Before I try to bleach my brain.”

Steve chuckled, smacking a kiss to Eddie’s cheek and ruffling Dustin’s hair through his hat. “Glad you’re safe, Eds. Let’s go.”