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#in my head I was so stuck in the whole 'but we are not Same Gender' and i felt weird in my like... masculinity
jayke0 · 3 days
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A Pleasant Surprise
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Summary: Steven has had something on his mind for a while now, and finally he divulges his fantasy to you; degrading was certainly not on your playing cards.
Rating: nsfw, smut
Warnings/Content: sub!Steven, dom!reader, fem!reader, “mommy” title, degrading, grinding, cumming in pants, lmk if there's anything else I should add :).
Word count: 1,441
Credit: @automnepoet for proofreading ily.
………......................…………………………………….
When Steven had come to you with a “fun idea”, you'd expected something along the lines of ”naive uni teacher gets fucked by his student”, but this was so much better.
“Love? I have a, uh…suggestion,” Steven calls from the bathroom between brushing his teeth. “Well, it's more of a proposal, really.”
“Yeah? Go on.” You're sitting in your bedroom reading some gruesome crime novel that Marc seems to have a real distaste for.
You hear the water running briefly before your boyfriend joins you in the room, warm morning sun streaming in through the cracked curtains and casting a soft glow over his face. “I mean, we don't have to do it now of course. I know you're reading and all that, and I have to get to work in a bit–.”
You close your book and pat the edge of the bed, making him instantly respond to your gesture by placing himself down. “I'm all ears, sweetheart, lay it on me.”
Blood rushes to Steven's face as he actually thinks about saying it outloud, feet shuffling a little on the creaky floorboards. The words feel stuck in his throat now that he has to speak them, despite the fact he'd thought about the whole image on numerous occasions... and in great detail.
“Heeyy c’mon,” your hand brushes his arm, and you move closer to him to wrap your arms fully around his, crinkling his blue floral shirt. “You know I can't read your mind, Steven… Though I wish I could, that'd be super fucking helpful, then the other two couldn't lie to me.”
His chuckle makes you smile and you feel him draw in a long breath.
”I wanna like… grind against you… and I want you to mock me for it, u-until I cum… in my trousers…”
The pauses between his words are almost comical, but you look up at his face and see that he's completely serious, looking at you with wide eyes and waiting for an answer.
“Oh! Right.”
“Ah, Gods! No no... no no no no no, forget it–.” He frantically shakes his head, his hands doing the same as his face scrunches. “It's weird, I'm sorry, pretend I never said anything. Me and my big bloody mouth.”
“Steven,” you say between giggles, hand resting on his soft face to pull his gaze towards you. “It's not weird, silly! I just didn't expect you to be the one that's into degrading.” Careful not to fall back off of the bed, you climb onto his lap, thighs either side of his as you examine his expression, how gorgeous he looks with his brows knitted together and his unruly curls that Marc would definitely be gluing down with copious amounts of gel right about now.
His chest deflates as he lets out a soft sigh, resting his head on your chest out of embarrassment while you link your arms around his neck to run your fingers through the long curls at the back of his head. You feel his hands graze up your back, gliding under your night shirt and making you shiver with the warmth.
“Are you sniffing me?”
“No! Well…” he pauses, “yeah, but not in a creepy way.” The man lifts his head and looks up at you with those big doe eyes, and you watch them close as you start rolling your hips down on him slowly. You're only in your underwear underneath that shirt, but Steven is fully clothed and ready for work… or at least he would be, if his eyes weren't fluttering shut and arousal wasn't growing in his tummy.
“I promise you, darling, I like your idea.” You reassure him with your hips drawing slow circles against the material of his trousers, creating a delicious friction. “As long as you tell me if it's too much, alright?”
The bed creaks a little with your grinding before he looks up at you, nodding with a kind of desperation in his eyes that lights a fire in your gut.
“You promise?”
“Yeah love, yeah I promise.” He says, his voice a little more whiny.
You don't bother yourself with working out the psychological reasons for why your boyfriend enjoys being degraded about how long he can last, chalking it up to his masculinity, despite your reassurances that he's just as much of a man as his other two alters.
“You've got 10 minutes, think you can do that?”
Steven groans at your question, since both of you know all too well that 10 minutes is more than enough time. Still, he nods, big puppy dog eyes looking up at you and begging you to divulge in his vision.
A smirk creeps across your face when you see those glassy eyes, your gaze trailing down to the blush dusting his cheeks and the straining muscles in his neck.
“God Steven, I love the way you look at me. Look at those big soft eyes, all for mommy, aren't they?”
He lets out a whimper with the use of that title, his cock stirring in his trousers and reminding you of the thin barrier that's stopping you from grinding on the rough material of his slacks all together. The man doesn't take his gaze off of you; he drinks in every one of your features as if he's seeing you for the first time.
Rocking his hips up, he pants.
“Yes mommy, all for you, I'm all for you.”
“That's right, sweetheart, those desperate eyes are for me. that dumb little face is mine.” You lean forward and nip his bottom lip, soothing it afterwards with your tongue as he gasps and bucks his hips.
“I can feel you twitching, baby. You just can't help it, can you? Always getting so worked up and hard when I'm around, maybe I should put this pretty cock in a cage, what do you think?”
Steven's shoulders drop as he leans forward into your neck, biting and sucking any skin he can get his mouth on while his hot breath and whimpers raise goosebumps over your skin.
The suction he had in your neck is broken as his head is suddenly jerked backwards, your grip tight in his hair and making him whimper pathetically.
“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”
His adam's apple bobs in his throat as he tries to suppress his moans, his head nodding wildly. “Yes mommy, I'd– agh–I'd love that.” His hips buck again.
“Mhm.. then you'd at least last longer than 5 minutes, you'd actually be able to fuck me properly.”
Steven's mouth hangs agape, his eyes now squeezed shut as his grip on your hips tighten and he guides your hips down on him harder, wanting more, anything.
“Sh–it… Ah- Feels so good.” His eyebrows knit together in a beautifully strained way. “More, gimme more–.”
You tut with a small smirk on your lips, rocking back and forth to coat his trousers in your own arousal that's seeped through your underwear.
“Oh, look at you, you gonna cum in your pants, baby? Gonna prove how pathetic you are to mommy?” You feel the muscles in his shoulders and back tighten. “C'mon sweetheart, cum for me, ruin those pants.”
Sweet moans and whimpers tumble from the man's rosy lips as he finally lets go, staining his boxers enough that you feel the wetness as it soaks a spot on his trouser leg.
His grip on your hips loosens, but he doesn't stop whimpering, soft babbles and huffs escaping his throat as he calms down. You stroke his head, combing your fingers through his hair as your hips slow. “Good boy, you're such a good boy, Steven.” You smile brightly at him, despite the fact his eyes are still shut.
They only flutter open when he feels your hand stroking his cheek and tilting his head down.
“Are you ok, baby? How do you feel?”
His cheeks are flushed bright red still, beads of sweat sitting on his forehead from the warmth of his button-up shirt. A smile cracks across his face as he nods shyly, “I'm ok– great, yeah.. I'm great, actually.”
“You sure? I didn't hurt your feelings, did I?”
He shakes his head and tilts face to kiss your palm. “No, you didn't, love. I promise.”
His eyes drift down to the wet patch on his trousers, your eyes following as you chuckle softly.
“Should probably change…” He mumbles while resting his head on your shoulder.
“Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” You place a kiss on his neck as you embrace him, ignoring the fact that he will most definitely be late to work… again.
...........................................................................
Tags 🖤: @boredzillenial @cowboymarcs @chichimisaki @faretheeoscar @fanofstuffidk @minigirl87 @marisferasiop @red-hydra @summonthesoups @steven-grants-world @queerponcho @ominoose @mynamesstevenwithav @rinverse @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mooksmouse @cupidysm
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AITA for telling my roommate she can't get a cat?
Content warning for animal death and neglect
I (27f) live with a few roommates, notably R (31f). When she moved in with us, I didn't expect her to have a cat, J (elderly, m). This was an unpleasant surprise sprung on me at the last minute. I have a cat M (14f) who is aggressive and does not get along with other cats.
While trying to make it work and navigate having two cats that were used to being alone in one house, we agreed on some ground rules. We agreed that both cats must be up to date on vaccines, that our cats wouldn't be introduced to each other until they were fully vaccinated, and that they wouldn't be unsupervised in the common areas until they were introduced to each other. M is diabetic and indoor only, J was outside/inside and hadn't been to a vet in years when R moved in.
Time kept passing and R didn't get her cat vaccinated. Which meant that he never left her room because she didn't want to hang out in the living room. Which meant that he was stuck in a little 13x13 bedroom and not getting any medical care. R's room also had nowhere for him to hide and he was scared of me, so when I would stop by her room to talk to him all he could do was stick his head under the dresser, his body wouldn't fit. The few times I saw him, I noticed that he was getting very skinny and R started talking about him having concerning litter box behaviors. I kept urging R to get him to a vet, but she kept saying she couldn't afford it. I did her budget and finances, she spent as much on lyfts every week as she did on rent despite have access to a robust public transportation system, so I started begging her to not lyft for a few weeks to spend that money on him. She started saying that he was doing better.
One night at 1am, I get a text that says "J isn't doing well, if he's alive after I get him tomorrow I will take him to the vet to get put down". I panic at the thought of this animal suffering and start calling emergency vets for who would be willing to do euthanasia that night. Almost all of them say that they would try to save the cat first and I keep telling them that we don't have money for that and that he's suffering. Finally, we get someone who understands and I call my friend with a car and get me, R, my partner, and R's cat to the vet at almost 3am and I sit with her when J is put down.
This was an incredibly traumatizing situation for me and I fully believe that R killed her cat through her negligence. So when R brought up wanting to get a new cat, I told her that she couldn't.
Why I might be the asshole: it's been almost 2 years since this whole situation and R has turned her financial situation around. She has a full time job and has a good savings built up and I know the whole situation was very traumatic for her too. I highly doubt she would ever make these same mistakes again. Also, I am motivated by wanting my cat to be the only cat in the house: I live in a basement room with little light, and she's really enjoyed being able to go upstairs and bask in the sun whenever she wants.
So, am I the asshole?
What are these acronyms?
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tadaxii-i · 2 days
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CONTRIBUTING TO THE CROP TOP JAMES FEST because HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVOURITE HIMBOOOO
I wrote this microfic and it's really horny and kind of Reg centric because I can't help it but! It still fits the demand.
Happy Birthday - 1,550 words - Starchaser, Wolfstar, Background Marylily, Suggestive.
@croptopjames
Regulus had woken James up this morning.
Which was highly unusual, seeing as James usually rose before the sun and Regulus had to mourn his getting up every morning, reaching helplessly around his empty bed.
Today, though, Regulus kissed him awake just a mere minutes before his alarm clock rang.
"Mon coeur," Murmured Regulus against his cheek, the incessant presses of affection slowly but surely pulling James out of his slumber. "Mon amour, please wake up."
"Mghh…" Grumbled James, and the incoherence must have been funny to Regulus, because he chuckled quietly against his skin. Unwillingly, it made James smile too.
"Good morning." Smiled Regulus as he climbed above James, his head hanging like chandelier a few inches from James'. He didn't think he'd ever get used to waking up to the most beautiful sight in the whole world every single morning, with its unruly hair and returning freckles.
"Good morning." He hummed back, and Regulus pressed a kiss to the bridge of his nose, right where it was permanently indented from his glasses.
"Happy birthday, Jamie."
Oh yeah, it was his birthday. James liked seeing Regulus first on his birthdays - spring was returning, so his pale skin tended to brown up incredibly quickly, a myriad of freckles settling on his cheeks and shoulders. His ears took on that constant pink flush that warmed James' heart.
He must have been staring, because Regulus tilted his head to the side, his hair falling into his eyes, but still smiling. Regulus always smiled on his birthdays. James liked to joke that it was always his best gift, but he was actually always serious.
"Come on, you're falling back asleep, I can feel it." Exposed. "Get up, get up! You're only getting older from now on."
"Okay, okay, I get it." Protested James, pushing himself up on his elbows and sitting up against the pillows. Regulus scooted backwards on his knees to give him space, scrunching his nose when James brushed his sleep-puffy eyes. Regulus handed him his glasses, and suddenly the world was clearer.
"I've got a gift for you." He perked up, pushing himself off the bed to reach out into their closet. James had a premium view of the tall expanse of his legs in his shorts from here, so he was more than happy to wait for a bit.
"Why did you wake up so early? We don't have anything until this afternoon, you could have slept a little bit more." James reached out for Regulus' waist as he slid back atop the covers, a thin box clutched in his pretty hands. He leaned into his lover's touch, straddling James' legs and making himself comfortable - which was a wonderful idea, if you asked James - pushing the package against his chest.
Regulus avoided his question, instead opting for: "Open up."
James raised his brow at that, but Regulus only stuck out his tongue, so James thought it was nothing bad. He still tugged at Regulus' tongue with his teeth, though.
At a closer inspection, the box was a flat, burgundy thing with a small carving, that James recognised as a gift box he'd used for Regulus' Yule present a few years ago - probably recycling, then.
Inside, there was a small heap of fabric, meticulously folded into a neat square, of the same dark red that James knew Regulus liked on him. James unfolded it under Regulus' watchful eyes.
It was a crop top, with an inscription on it.
"Boytoy?" Scoffed James, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline. "You're so rude to me! On my birthday!"
But Regulus only leaned forward, whispering against his lips.
"It's true, though."
And it was, yes. So.
Regulus kissed him, so James would do anything he asked of him. It was clockwork, at this point.
"Wear it today?" His baby murmured in between kisses, desperately fighting against the smile threatening to cut James' face in half.
"I thought it was my day." James' hand locked into Regulus' curls.
"It is. Don't act like you don't like it. I've seen your butchered band tees."
"They're not butchered!"
"Okay, 'Fleetwood' fan. No 'Mac' in sight."
"Bitch."
"Sure."
And Regulus' body against his was so very warm.
-
"PRONGS!" Sirius basically ripped his ears off as he jumped into his arms, and James caught him just before he smashed his head against the hardwood floors. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
"Indoors voice, Pads." Reminded Remus, but Sirius ignored him to pepper James' face with sloppy kisses.
"Thank you, Padfoot!" James pressed Sirius against him, practically crushing his smaller frame into his arms. He knew it was the way Sirius liked hugs anyway.
James had definitely mellowed out after settling down with Regulus - his fiancé, thank you very much - but he was sometimes reminded of the way he used to be whenever he saw Sirius jumping around like an overexcited puppy. He envied the way Sirius hadn't changed a bit since high school.
Behind them, Remus and Regulus exchanged a nod and a smile, sighing at their mutual disasters. The both of them weren't much better, but they hid it better, the little shits.
James did a round of hugs and kisses for every guest, receiving 'happy birthday's and low whistles from those who dared look below his pectorals.
"Damn." Marlene slapped his ass on his way to greet Dorcas, her dimples digging into her cheeks. "You're out of control today!"
"It was Reggie's idea." He denounced, ignoring Regulus' dark stare.
"Of course it was." She winked, and he winked back.
The party wasn't really a surprise, because Sirius organised a surprise party every year at the same place, same time. James had stopped pretending to be surprised after a few years, but he still appreciated the sentiment.
Still, after so many years, everyone kept coming. There was not a birthday where someone was missing - Mary had gotten a gift for Evan, for fuck's sake! And they had nothing in common. They were their own little village, an ecosystem coexisting for more than seven years for some, and almost fifteen for the rest.
"Barty J!" James cried out, slamming his hand against Barty's and smashing their shoulders together.
"You look good!" Retorted Barty, those sly eyes wrinkling at the corners. One of the first conversations he'd had with Barty once he and Reg had started dating was some teasing, good intentioned sex advice - He and Regulus had almost been together once, actually - and a weird kind of shovel talk much too similar to Sirius'. knew he had a friend in him, whether or not anyone liked to admit it.
James let go of him and Regulus kissed both of his cheeks, smiling.
Then Evan, Pandora, and late comer Mary who - according to her words - had been snogging Lily in the bathroom, then Lily, who looked like she'd, in fact, been snogged in the bathroom.
And even as they all fell through their yearly routine of hugs, bad American movies and cake, Regulus' eyes were on him; on the expanse of skin on his stomach, on the lingering hands he grazed as he circulated, on the kiss he pressed there as he got settled on the couch with a drink in his hand.
-
James didn't even get to get a glimpse of the inside of their flat before Regulus pressed him against the entrance hall's wall.
In a matter of seconds, hungry lips were on his, and James could only reciprocate, sighing and breathing against the warm, warm, hot pressure. Hands in hair, hands on arms, hands on shoulder blades, hands on bare waists, and it might just as well been Regulus' birthday from he indulged himself. James thought he was no one to stop him, really.
"Baby," James sighed against his hair as Regulus began trailing down his throat. Regulus hummed against his throat, scraping his teeth against his Adam's apple. "Baby, please."
"What do you want?" Regulus caught his lips again - James felt like he was being stringed at the tune of Regulus' violin, something to be played with and discovered.
He didn't know what he wanted, truly. Nothing, everything, just for Regulus to touch him, for fuck's sake. It was never enough, never enough, and James wanted more more more too much.
Regulus dropped on his knees, a beautiful sight with bright blue eyes - Regulus said they were grey but he didn't believe him one second - and rosy red cheeks. He was a bit tipsy from the liquor, that peach delight Dorcas kept pouring into his glass all throughout the night and he just accepted. His lips trailed the crease of James' belly button, peering up through his lashes.
James' breath caught in his chest.
It was easy to predict that Regulus would bite. It still brought James to tears when he did, sinking his sharp canines into the flesh of his flanks, willing the blood to the surface in tiny pools. Regulus' fingers trailed where his tense muscles rippled in shock, looking every bit the blood-sucking demon James knew he was.
"I just want you, my love." James whispered, never ever willing the shame the shake in his voice if it meant Regulus would grin at him like that.
"Your wish is my command."
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winniethewife · 3 days
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Love goes on and on (Steven Grant x GN!reader)
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Prompt; Butterflies
Words:585
Steven had planned this date for months. He had heard that this time of spring is when Peacock butterflies begin to hatch from their chrysalis and he had been following some local Entomology blogs and found out that one of their favourite parks is where a whole lot of chrysalis had been spotted this year, He had gotten all the perfect picnic foods together and packed up a basket. Steven was humming a tune that just felt right, he couldn’t quite place the where it came from but he liked the sound of it. They were finishing up something on their laptop before they left for the park, Steven loved how their nose scrunched up when they were focused on something, the way they typed furiously and made small comments to themselves about the task in front of them. As he put the finishing touches on the basket, adding two bottles of their favorite sodas, he heard the laptop close and the squeak of the office chair as they stretch. Steven leaves the kitchen with the picnic basket under his arm.
“Ready love?” He asks them with a bright smile on his face.
“Yeah! Let me just get my shoes on” they replied with a voice filled with exciment for the day ahead. Steven feels a rush of joy, hoping this picnic will be as amazing as he had planned.
After getting ready they walk to the park, hand in hand, enjoying the nice weather for once. Steven had kept humming that same tune throughout the day, still not sure where it came from, as they walked through the park and came upon their favorite spot they got to work laying out the blanket. As they sit down Steven pulls out the well thought out lunch that he had planned down to the smallest detail, their favorite sandwich cut exactly how they like it, their favorite snacks packaged just right. They could tell Steven had worked very hard to make this perfect, The looked into his eyes and smiled softly.
“This is wonderful Steven, thank you.” They took a bite of their sandwhich and looked out on the beauty of the park, the flowers just starting to bloom, the sky so blue. Steven blushed slightly
“Not nearly as wonderful as you love.” He says as he carefully opens the bottled soda and takes a sip. As they both watch the on goings of the park, He hears them start to hum the same song he had been humming earlier. He felt a rush of butterflies in his stomach as the melody floated in the air. He looked at them. “What is that from? I’ve had it stuck in my head all day!”
“It’s from the robin hood movie that we watched the other night! the one with the foxes?” They said with a slight laugh as they looked at him. Steven smiled, of course this all makes sense now.
“Oh right! When Robin hood and Maid Marian have that romantic moment together, with the ring and…” He trails off as he looks over at his lover and feels the fluttering in his chest. “I…I want to marry you someday…you know that right?” He looks at them with a gentle gaze. They flushed pink and glances away, just then seeing several groups of the butterflies they had come to see take flight. With a smile they turn to Steven.
“I do now.”
Love will live, Love will last, Love goes on and on and on.
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Bingo Masterlist
Tag: @moonknight-events @juneknight @spacecowboyhotch @silvernight-m
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b-blushes · 5 months
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you know when you're in da overwhelm zone due to Circumstances that you don't really have power over. well it's really hard to deescalate from that i am finding!
HOWEVER i am attempting:
FACING THE THINGS because the longer they loom. the longer they are looming for.
regular breaks from Addressing Everything
regular snacks/meals/drinks
prioritising
postponing stuff that can be left until later (But watch out!)
doing other things in advance that are easy to do now (such as stockpiling meals ready for feeling more ill)
asking for help where i can
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hella1975 · 2 years
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shared a double bed with four of my mates last night bc we passed out watching merlin this is what adolescence is supposed to be
#i ache in ungodly places#woke up at the head of the bed sandwiched between friend 1 and 2#with friend 3 at the end of the bed and friend 4 ON THE DESK CHAIR BESIDE THE BED LYING ON TOP OF FRIEND 2#it was so fucking uncomfortable but at the same time very sweet#especially bc they're all from like... different groups if that makes sense?#like friend 1 and 3 are all in our Main Group but friend 1 is very anti-social and usually only hangs out with me#and im like the friend 1 whisperer bc she only comes out when i ask her to which has totally not grown my god complex at all#and friend 3 is my coffee shop friend so me and her hang out a lot#then there's friend 2 who is from my econ course and that's her connection to everyone#and friend 4 is from the coffee shop friend 3 works at like we'd met him once before that night lmao#idk it was just very fun and i felt very loved <333#like the club itself wasnt acc that good like it wasnt BAD but i think my clubbing stamina has gone to shit since not doing it in so long#but my god the pres were so fucking fun#bc like we did that tiktok trend of getting a plastic box and just FILLING it with alcohol#like i think we put a whole bottle of schnapps two bottles of vodka two daiquiri slush packets and half a bottle of gin#with mixers obvs bc that wouldve been VILE but still by the end of pres the entire box was basically empty#the way i was MANGLED at pres lmfao it was so good#and i for some reason has before he cheats stuck in my head on the student bus to the SU#AND FRIEND 2 JUST JOINED IN AND STARTED SINGING IT I WAS LIKE MA'AM SDJKGHKDSHG#picture two very drunk girls on the bus aggressively singing back and forth at each other#I DUG MY KEY INTO THE SIDE OF HIS PRETTY LITTLE SOUPED UP FOUR WHEEL DRIVE-#scenes#hella goes to uni#OMG I ALMOST FORGOT WHEN THE FIVE OF US GOT BACK TO MY MATE'S ROOM#THERE'S BEEN THIS CAT THAT PEOPLE HAVE SEEN AROUND THE ACCOM AREA YEAH#IT JUMPED THROUGH HER FUCKING WINDOW#IM NOT JOKING I WAS ON HER BED PISSED OUT OF MY MIND AND SHE JUST STARTED FUCKING SCREAMING#LIKE AT THE TOP OF HER LUNGS SCREAMING#AND I WAS LIKE WHAT THE FUCK AND I LOOK AND SEE A CAT HAS JUMPED THROUGH THE WINDOW ONTO THE BED#IT WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY OMG
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thschei · 19 days
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My mom got home and immediately handed me an ipod classic and said "[Patient] told me her ipod won't hold a charge anymore, so I told her you might be able to fix it, or at least show her how to rip the music library onto her computer"
and I said . "I've told you to stop telling people I can help them with technology ."
And then I noticed the ipod actually still had a full battery (but I'm sure, like my barely functioning ipod classic, within a few seconds-minutes the battery would die), so I glanced through the menus, mostly because I still feel very nostalgic for using ipods & find the tactile buttons/audible clicking/whirring to be a lot more appealing than keeping music on a purely touchscreen torture nexus, but I was also curious about how recent the music this patient listens to is
So I said . "Oh hey, she has Rick Astley on here!"
And after a few minutes she goes . "I have that fucking Rick Astley song stuck in my fucking head." and I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed
#erin talks#text#footnotes:#1) I do actually keep music on my phone; there's 8848 songs on it & my phone regularly informs me we have less than 10% storage left#& I say <3 eat my entire ass [company] . I've been using spotify in recent yrs so I can use my music apps for audiostories#2) I know you can replace ipod batteries but it requires shit like soldering wires & I don't feel comfortable trying that#& I think I'd have to drive at least 2 hours to find someone I could pay to do it for me . which would still run the risk of destroying#the components that aren't being mass-produced anymore & are difficult to find#3) I unironically like never gonna give you up & used to listen to it for fun when I was really little . same with careless whisper#4) I wasn't Trying to get the song stuck in her head or annoy her when I said it but it was a fun side effect <3#5) I tend to really like songs she hates from her days of working retail & songs being overplayed#my favorite mj songs are the ones that are like . the equivalent of if I had a kid & they loved new rules by dua lipa#I genuinely like them tho it's not me trying to torture her 😭#6) I know everyone born in the 80's onward has the whole 'parent tells ppl they can help with technology thing'#but this specifically is bc when I was like 12 my laptop kicked the bucket & I had to find a way to save 4000+ songs from my ipod#I was very proud that I figured out a solution & didn't have to redownload all that music but like truly all you have to do is google#to see if a program that can do what you want . plz don't tell ppl I can figure anything out let them think I'm a dumb vapid zillenial 😭
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prettycottagequeer · 13 days
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ok maybe I'm a little late to this BUT I'm gonna do a to-do list motivation thingy because I've had the worst two weeks since I started college :)
SO these I should start on asap:
50 I make the snack I really want but I haven't had the motivation to make
100 I clean my dorm. another thing I've been meaning to do for a week
150 I do the presentation about mid-victorian fashion I've been putting off (due Monday)
200 I start memorizing the monologue that was due a week ago (now due Tuesday)
these can wait longer:
300 I spend time outside. It's so nice but I'm getting stuck scrolling because I feel like shit. vicious cycle ect
500 I start setting a better weekend routine (aka getting up before noon)
1k I start working out again. I was doing a routine to get more masc and build muscle and I liked it but life hit me like Crowley driving the Bentley and I've missed like 3 weeks
2k I buy my first binder. I've been coping with sports bras for almost a year now and I haven't been able to justify spending $50+ on a binder even though I know I'd love it and use it everyday.
Do I tag people? I don't know but I'm going to. @the-globe-theatre-maggot @weirdly-specific-but-ok @howmanyholesinswisscheese
here's just some context if you want to read, feel free to skip. some of this I've talked about in the maggot server, some I haven't, but I really just need a place for this to go that's out of my head. tw homophobia, transphobia, car crash(??)
How I Have Been Run Over By The Bentley Going 90 In Central London What Feels Like 50 Times In The Last Two Weeks
I'm going to college about 4 hours away from my parents, and it's been really nice. They.. suck, to say the least. transphobic/homophobic ect, super traditional conservative catholic, racist, all of it. so i tried to move somewhere where I wouldn't have to think about them and I could be myself and do what I can to be happy. March 1st was the start of my spring break, which meant going home because the dorms close. I was already not excited, but I was prepared. the problem with being away from home is I forget just how bad they are. My optimism gets the better of me and I think maybe this time they'll be better. so I decided to not hide my septum piercing.
that was a mistake. it starts a whole fight where they say we know you're trans, you're actually a girl and you always will be, we have the bones argument, they think I'm being influenced by demons or something (if only they knew about crowley) because I want to change my name, and they tell me that going on t will completely ruin my body and give me cancer and other things. They're also mad about my dyed hair, septum, and general style, and say I'm setting a terrible example for my (5) younger siblings and make it a point to tell me just how much of a disappointment I am. I think I'm pretty cute and fun but y'know, whatever. very fun time. I lie so much, don't give them any more details about my identity, and say I'm not planning to go on t to save my ass. which is all on instinct which makes me feel worse because if I'm really trans I should be able to stand up for that, right? maybe I'm faking the dysphoria.
the next morning I wake up really sick, and spend the rest of the week sick and feeling like shit because I'm home and back in the same place and situation I was a year ago that I thought I escaped. at one point I pretty much lose my voice but also kind of get gender euphoria from it. it's weird.
On Friday it's time for me to drive back 4 hours to school, and I make it about 3/4 of the way when google maps takes me on a random gravel road and I crash my car, really crash my car, like sideways-in-a-ditch-windows-broken-crawling-up-out-the-door crash it in the middle of nowhere. (I was fully paying attention to the road, it was raining and super slick) I call my parents because I have no one else to call and I sit in a Subway for 3 hours while they drive to get my car. when they get there they're (understandably) really mad, and they tell me that I'm not mature enough to be going to school so far away and I need to get my shit together and stop depending on them. which. is probably true. but made me feel even more stupid about the fact that I crashed my car. I get back to school and I'm still Very Sick with no energy or motivation to do anything. So I've spent the last week trying to get better and honestly to do anything. it hasn't really worked. I'm a lot better health-wise (Not emotionally), still sick but I have a lot of work due, so I really need a push to get started
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nonpoppin · 2 months
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One More Chance
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Summary: Farleigh doesn't want to lose you.
Warnings: Cheating, drug use, drinking, slapping (you dont get slapped!!), oral (f receiving!), pussy eating, overstimulation (?), talks of stds, P in V sex, lemme know if i forgot anything.
Notes: Guess who's back and being ANNOYING! Lord when i say this took me forever to write and it's long. Whatever, but hi this is like 5k+ words not including notes, warnings or summary! Enjoy!! Leave comments n all that!! ALSO Shout-out to @cocoamoonmalfoy for putting up with me while i wrote this 😭 okay im running away now.
PART TWO
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You think you're getting too old for clubbing.
Everything is so loud, dizzying, and sweaty and your outfit sticks to you uncomfortably. You pull at the laces, at the latex that annoyingly catches against the meat of your thighs as you sway to the music. Annabel, seemingly ignorant to your stiff movement, leans her whole body against you, grinding to the beat of the song, and out of instinct you wrap your arm around her waist and pull her closer. She melts into your arms then without missing a beat, she turns her head and even with the flashing lights you can see that her mascara runs, “You used to be good at this.”
You swallow thickly. You were good at this— clubbing, partying, getting so drunk you'd feel it the next morning but he had to ruin it for you, take the fun out of partying. “Sorry,” You say, nosing against her ear, “It’s just a lot.” Her hands clench over yours, her lashes fluttering.
“You didn't have to come.”
But you did. You couldn't spend nights in your dorm crying for the rest of the semester, not when you had an image to uphold. People were talking, half the campus knew that something happened between you and Farleigh, something bad enough for you to suddenly drop him and his family despite the looks he still sent you whenever you were in the same room. You had to come, if not for yourself, for Annabel who's going through the same thing as you, even if the cousin she got stuck with was a lot more cruel about what he did. “Couldn’t let you do this alone,” You smile. Couldn't let her sit in her dorm and cry over Felix who dropped her for India, she had lost two people in one night(—her boyfriend and best friend.) and while you two weren't the closest before this, you're friends— someone who understood what it was like to date a Catton.
Annabel smiles, turning to face you and it makes you laugh, her lipstick is smeared. You reach out and wipe out at it and she watches, her smile slipping off her face as her lip begins to wobble, “I wish I met you first.”
You smile and it's twinge with sadness. “You don't like girls, Anna.”
She shakes her head, tears falling from her eyes. It's been off and on all night and the booze running through her system isn't making it better. “I could though, I could like you.” She sniffles, “It’s not fair. I could have loved you instead but I'm here and– and crying over him while he's probably off fucking her in some dark corner. He said it was all a bit of fun– that we had the rest of our lives and it was wrong to tie him down when– when there was so much to experience. You would have thought I asked him to marry me, I just–”
Her face falls, “I just wanted him to be my boyfriend.”
Then, it's like a switch flips in her because she suddenly gags, lurching forward. You jump back in fear of getting puked on but she claps her hands over her mouth, pushing you and others out of the way and runs to what you hope is a bathroom. You stare after for a few moments, making sure you can actually see her go into the women's bathroom and when she does, you look away with a deep sigh, a hand running down your face. She's done this twice already and you know when she comes back this time, you'll cut your losses and drag her back to bed before she gets alcohol poisoning.
Politely, you try to dance your way off the middle of the dancefloor. You smile at people who seem to know you, they say your name in greeting and quickly go back to their dancing and just when you're at the cusp of exiting the crowd, a hand grabs yours. You jerk, whirling around and—
“Oliver, what the hell?” You snap over the music, you yank your hand free and his face falls. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Felix sent me over!” He shouts over the music then he draws closer to you, forcing you to take a step backward and out of the crowd. “Said you'd punch him if he came over–” Well, he's not wrong. “–and he said he needed your help, Farleigh–”
Your face crumples at the mention of your ex-boyfriend and you're already shaking your head, “No, Oliver–”
“Oh, love, come on–”
“I already told him I wanted nothing to do with him or his family-!” You quiet yourself when you notice the looks you're starting to get when you notice the group of kids near you quiet down as if to listen in. “Just no, Oliver. I can't leave Anna alone for too long–”
Oliver instantly begins to look around, “Annabel is here?”
You frown, “Yeah. Why?”
Oliver makes a face, “I have to chat with her too,” You start to sneer and he throws his hands up, his face paling. “Not for Felix, I swear. I just– we need to talk, how about we switch off– I stay with Anna and you go find the guys–”
“No. She's fucking drunk I'm not leaving her with you–”
“Oliver!”
Annabel appears from down the hall behind you, smiling as if she didn't spend the past few minutes puking up her stomach. She slides up next to you, bleary eyes peering at the both of you, “What are you doing here, Ollie?”
Your eyes narrow on him. The girl beside you is looking to make some mistakes tonight— trying to make someone jealous and while she didn't like girls, she loved boys and Oliver happened to be pretty and a close friend of Felix. You roll your lips together, eyes flickering to her when she prowls closer to him, and Oliver's hands clench and unclench at his side. She'd be picking the wrong friend to do this with, Oliver obviously had a thing going for Felix and Felix wanted something from Oliver, Farleigh had told you as much. Felix was still experimenting with his sexuality and didn't want to be kept in the straight category when he liked boys too, he had liked Eddie before he slept with Venetia and gave him head allegedly so bad, that he was gone from Saltburn by sunrise.
But that's neither here nor there, not when Oliver smiles at Annabel and you can see traces of Felix in it. It looks too practiced and painted and when he speaks to be heard over the music, it's like his accent changed to match the tallest Catton. “I just wanted to talk to you. Alone, if you don't mind–”
“Annabel–”
The girl cuts you off with a big, lipstick-smudged smile. “Of course, we can talk. I think I was just about to go back to campus, walk with me?” Then she looks back to you as if to say; ‘Relax, it's only Oliver.’
A little annoyed she's ditching you so quickly for a chance at fucking Oliver, you snap your mouth shut. It's only Oliver and that's what worries you, maybe you're being paranoid or maybe, Farleigh stuffed your head full of nonsensical claims but there's something weird about Oliver, like he's pretending to be something he's not. “Fine– just, just call me when you get back okay? If you don't I'm calling S.W.A.T on the place.”
Annabel smiles and presses a kiss on your cheek, “Thank you for being my very American guard dog tonight.” Then, to Oliver, “Let’s go, yeah?”
Oliver clasps hands with her, letting her pull him from the club but not before he turns to you and looks past the moving dance floor, “They’re all the way in the back, got a private room. You should go.”
You scowl at him, “Fuck off, Ollie.”
He smiles at you and it's like he knows you're gonna cave and go before you even decide to do so. And once you lose sight of Oliver and Annabel, you count to ten before you turn and push your way through the crowd trying to get to the private section behind them. Once you breach the crowd again, the security guards posted outside the private section only glance at you and then away, stepping out of your path as you pass them. You swallow at the feeling that evokes— that power that came with being seen with a Catton, a cousin or otherwise, was nauseating. You could ask those guards to do whatever you wanted and they would in hopes of a good tip, you could murder someone back here and they'd turn a blind eye because at the end of the day, if you weren't a friend of the Cattons’, you were against them and no one who stood against them survived very long.
You stop outside the door and you realize it's quieter back here. You can still hear the music from the club, yes, but if you pressed your ear against the door, you could hear crying. You could hear Felix talking, shuffling, and then more crying, choked and muffled and you think he's trying to silence himself and you ignore the way your heart aches. You should have ‘died’ a while ago. Should've been cast aside the moment you broke up with Farleigh and cursed Felix out, but they kept you close. Their gold-coated talons had dug too deep, you saw too much blood and bone, you saw too much of the real them and knew, in a way they'd never let you go. No matter what you did or said.
You take a breath and open the door.
Felix is crouching in front of Farleigh, his hands cupping his face as the man before him cries so hard, he heaves. He's cooing, using his thumbs to rub soothing circles on his cheeks, “It's okay, mate. It's okay, you just got to breathe– yeah, that's it, Far, just breathe with me.”
Your hand clenches around the knob and you clear your throat, praying your voice sounds uncaring.“Is he high?”
Both men look up, Felix faster than Farleigh but that doesn't stop the other man from staggering to his feet at the sight of you. “Baby,” He hiccups, he walks to you— stumbling and nearly tripping in the process and you enter the room, closing the door before any passersby can see. Farleigh reaches you and his eyes flutter, tears freely falling from his eyes as he sinks to the floor before you, his arm winding around your waist and his face placed firmly against your stomach. He's still crying, you note but he's mumbling too, “You came. You came back.”
Your hands clench at your sides to hide their shaking, you won't touch him. Even as he unbalances you and presses you flush against the door, you don't touch him as he cries which means, you won't push him away either, so you settle on ignoring him instead, your eyes on Felix who's still crouching. “Felix, is he high?”
The man sighs, running a hand through his hair before he stands, rolling his shoulders. You can't decide if he looks pissed that you actually showed or happy to see you after weeks of no communication. He looks like he's forcing himself to frown, “You’d want that, wouldn't you? Give you another reason to run away from him.”
You flinch as if he hit you and Farleigh holds you tighter, pulling you closer to him, “You don't get to say that, Felix. You don't even know what fucking happened.”
“Exactly!” He bursts. Its loud enough he throws a glance at the door, he takes a breath and you hear him struggle to keep his voice level. “I don't know what fucking happened between the two of you and he won't tell me. You won't tell me. Then, I try to call you– try to make it right and you– you fucking blocked me?”
“There’s no making this right, Felix. You can't fix everything–”
“Yes, I can!” He insists, his voice raising. “I did so before when you two fought, I did it when your scholarship fell through and you were going to get kicked from Oxford, I fixed it when Farleigh and you went streaking through the bloody campus, I can fix this but you have to tell me what happened– you just– you're family now and we just don't drop each other, we don't block each other and don't answer when the other comes knocking for answers. Just let me fix this because all I know– all I know is Farleigh fucking flushed it, okay? Flushed it all down the loo and hasn't been high in weeks and it's been fucking hell, he's been such a prick about it always snapping and blowing up over the littlest things. I can't even mention you without him trying to bite my head off.
“Please. Just tell me what happened. That's all I ask, that's all I want to know, we used to tell each other everything. We used to be friends.” He pleads.
Annoyed you snap, “He cheated on me.”
Felix draws back, surprised. “What?”
You lick your lips, trying to force the memory from your mind and Farleigh starts to cry again, he tries to curl into you, trying to bury his face and cover his ears. If he's not high, he's drunk out of his mind and you're not sure what's better, he's always been a bit of a baby when drunk, clingy, and emotional. You used to have patience for it, you used to be able to stare at him without wanting to cry, “He cheated on me with Alicia. He and her got super fucking high after I begged him to just stay in my dorm with me instead of going out and I don't know– they fucked, I guess.” You look down at Farleigh and try to force that image out of your head, how he came to you already crying and begging for forgiveness, he said he didn't even know what happened, how he even ended up alone with Alicia but the damage was done. You broke up with him then and there.
Felix makes a face like he sucked on a lemon. “Farleigh wouldn't do that. Not to you, there has to be a misunderstanding– there– Farleigh, mate, tell me it's not true.”
Farleigh doesn't answer and you didn't really expect him to, not with the desperation coating his cousin's voice. For a moment, Felix looks more hurt than you and you understand it— he had been the one to get you both together, two Americans in Oxford why not stick together, he had invited you to Saltburn last year where Farleigh worked up the nerve to kiss you whilst Felix and Venetia cheered from a balcony above. Felix in the course of it all, became your friend because you never asked for his wealth, never asked for gifts or privileges, and the only thing you ever asked for was notes in a class you shared. Notes that he had never taken before then but started taking almost instantly after and the rest was history.
“Fucking Christ, mate.” Felix curses, he's shaking his head at his cousin. He looks at you, then past you frowning, “Where is Oliver?”
“He left with Anna.”
Felix freezes, “What?”
“He took Annabel home, you remember Anna, don't you? Your ex-girlfriend?”
“We weren't dating.” Felix snaps then shakes his head, “Look I gotta go find Oliver–”
“What? No, you have to stay with Farleigh–”
“I don't even want to be in the same room as him right now. Leave him with the security guards, he'll be fine come morning.”
He kisses your cheek, ignoring your protest as he storms from the room, slamming the door behind him. You think he has no right being this angry when he did something worse but Felix sees himself differently from everyone else, and sometimes it took someone copying his actions to see how fucked up he treated someone.
With a sigh, you look down at Farleigh who somehow managed to doze off in all the bickering, slumped heavily against your smaller figure. You hesitate for a second before attempting to push a hand through his hair and get annoyed when it doesn't go through as it usually would— he wasn't taking care of himself but you can't say you were doing so either. You frown, debating.
“Fuck it, Farleigh wake up, we're going back to my room.”
He only groans against you and you know the hangover he gets tomorrow will hurt.
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A part of you missed sleeping next to Farleigh.
You always ran cold and he ran hot, he'd tangle himself around you and pull you flush against his body and the warmth that bloomed made you feel like you were a bear waking from hibernation each morning. You'd shake the sleep from your bones while he'd grumble and try to pull you closer to him, trying to coax you back to bed.
A part of you missed it and you'd probably always miss it but you knew where you stood with Farleigh, you couldn't– you wouldn't go back.
He shifts next to you, his head falling off the pillow and resting in the crook of your neck, his lips ghosting over your pulse that steadily picks up the closer he draws. You've been awake for an hour now, passively texting Annabel as she updates you on her almost sleeping with Oliver, how she managed to give him a handjob (— she took several minutes to describe the size, shape, and feel of his dick to you.) before Felix burst in and dragged him out. You turn away from Farleigh, arm tucking under your pillow as you debate telling Annabel that Felix only showed up to drag Oliver out because he wanted to be the first one to fuck Oliver.
But you remember how eagerly she ditched you for Oliver. You remember how the two of you were just friends, barely acquaintances if you took away all the conversations about Felix or Farleigh so instead, you huff, turning off your phone and chucking it away from you. Farleigh follows your movement, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you back against him, his leg slotting between your legs and you freeze.
“Farleigh?”
The man hums, pushing his leg higher in an attempt to pull you closer and a startled breath leaves you. That shouldn't feel good, you won't let it show that it does. You shift, subtly trying to lift your weight from him, “If you can hear me, you should leave. Classes start soon and–” His leg presses higher, directly against your clothed cunt and you jerk, fingernails digging into the arm around your waists. “Farleigh–”
“I missed you.” He whispers against the skin of your neck and you shiver but trying to twist away only makes you grind against his leg or back against him if the breathy groan he lets out is anything to go by. “Can we– can we talk?”
“This isn't talking, this is–” He begins to kiss your neck, tongue swiping across your pulse before he nips at your skin and you nearly choke on your words. “You can't fuck this better, Farleigh. You– I don't even know if you're clean anymore.”
He stills against you and it allows you to pull yourself from his arms, to twist and sit up over him as your heart pounds. You should get out of bed, you think when he stares up at you with wide brown eyes, You should kick him out. You do neither, at least, not yet. Not when he's this close and staring at you like that. “I am,” He finally says and his voice breaks, he blinks quickly, shifting. “I got tested. Twice. I can show you–”
“No.” You say quickly, “No, it's fine. It's not like it matters anymore.”
Farleigh frowns up at you. “It does matter, baby. I shouldn't have– I shouldn't have fucked Alicia, okay? And I know you don't want to hear it but I was high.”
You instantly look away, hands clenching and unclenching. He wants to talk, fine, you could talk. “So that makes it okay?” You ask, “What if I got high and fucked Oliver, huh? Would you be okay with that?”
Farleigh scowls. “It’s not the same thing and you know it. Oliver is a fucking freak and I've told you that–”
“And I told you to stay.” You snap, “Stay in my dorm with me, spend time with me, fuck me. But you went out and fucked Alicia– so excuse me if I don't give a fuck about what you said about Oliver.”
The both of you sit in silence for a minute and you are the first to break it with a sigh, “Just leave, Farleigh. This isn't good for–”
“Do you want to get even with me?” He asks, sitting up. His eyes search your face, looking for…something. “Do you want to fuck Oliver?”
You gape at him, “Are you fuckin’ insane? No!”
“Felix, then. Do you want to fuck him?” He asks, his voice shaking. “‘Cause I'd let you. I'd let you fuck whoever you wanted if it meant you'd come back to me once you were finished.”
You try to get out of bed but he stops you, grabbing your hand and pulling you back in. A gasp rips out of you as you tug your arm away from him, anger pooling in your gut, “Do you hear how fucking pathetic you sound?!” He reaches for you again and you smack his hand away, “Don't fucking touch me!”
“Baby–”
“No!” You shout and when you stand, this time he doesn't stop you, only rushing to follow. “You can't do this shit, Farleigh. I didn't do this to us– I didn't fucking cheat on you!”
“I know–” He tries but you can't hear him, your heart is beating too fast, and your head is pounding. You're sure you're sweating in your effort to keep steady on your feet, to meet his eyes.
“You need to leave, Farleigh. We're done.”
“We’re not.” He insists, stepping closer to you. “Baby, I love you–”
You slap him before you can even stop yourself and you regret it as soon as you do. His head snaps to the side and his jaw flexes as he processes what you've done. He shakes his head, his hand coming to ghost across the reddening skin of his cheek before it drops, his eyes blown wide as he stares at you and you stare back, your hand falling to your side.
You have two seconds to brace yourself. To lock your knees and not bend against his body crashing against yours, his lips on yours as he backs you against the door. He kisses you like he misses you— like he's sorry for everything, for hurting you, for existing. His teeth bite into your bottom lip and when you feel the skin break, you turn your head with a sigh, allowing the man to kiss down your neck. “I’m so fucking sorry,” He mumbles against your skin, “So, so, sorry–”
He sucks a hickey into your skin and your hands clench at the fabric of his shirt, “Farleigh?” He hums, “That’s not how you're supposed to apologize.”
He drops to his knees before you without so much as a blink. He's nosing against your pajama shorts, his hands sliding up your thighs to pull at your waistband. “Take it off.” He orders, tugging at the material and the tone of his voice makes you frown and when he sees this, his tongue swipes across lips as he looks up to you. “Take it off, please.”
And you do so easily, giggling when Farleigh kisses your hands as you do. You push Farleigh back to kick off your shorts and the man leans forward between your legs, placing an open mouth kiss on your pussy– his tongue finding home almost immediately to flick against your clothed clit. “Oh– fuck, wait, wait–” You bend, trying to push him away once more but he shakes your hand off and pushes his face closer, mouth suctioning over your cunt. You thread your fingers through what hair you can, a choked moan leaving you before y anking him away from you, ignoring his choked groan. “Farleigh, what the fuck–?”
“I missed you,” He says, his lips parting as he pants, trying to shift closer to you. “Missed your pretty pussy too.”
Your fingers curl against his scalp, nails ghosting flesh and he moans. It's a filthy sound that makes something hot and warm pool in your gut— makes a breath punch out of your lungs. You missed him but you realize it's deeper than that, that this feeling— this want is something primal and it mixes with the anger that still lingers within you, it mixes and it makes you want to hurt him as much as you want to fuck him. “You’re so fuckin’ greedy,” You mumble, your whole body warm. “You’d eat me whole if I'd let you.”
One hand still in his hair, you use it to pull him further away from your pussy and he goes easily, watching wide-eyed as you use your other hand to pull your panties to the side. You can't bring yourself to be embarrassed about how wet you are, Farleigh has seen you naked dozens of times and you're sure half the wetness is his saliva that leaked through the thin fabric but this time it's different. He stares at you and your pussy like it made the stars, the sun, and the moon and he waits— panting, sweating, his dick straining against his jeans, looking up at you with big brown eyes. It's a good look on him, you decide, this obedience. You move your hand, fingers parting your soaked folds, “Apologize.”
And god, he does so eagerly. He jerks forward, his hands finding purchase with the meat of your thighs as he drags you forward, closer to his mouth. His tongue licks, circling your clit. You bow away from his mouth out of instinct, moans tumbling from your lips and he follows, riding the waves your hips roll to— you back away from the pleasure and he drags you forward, making you ride his tongue with each twitch. “Oh my god,” You whisper, whimpering as you roll your hips. You feel Farleigh smile against you before he slips, his nose replacing his tongue against your clit as he uses both tongue and fingers to fuck you open. “Oh my– O-oh fuck–” You clench around him, your muscles tightening and he parts them as if you're made out of wet tissue, slurping and drinking up the mess you leak onto his hand.
Your body curls away from him and he twists with you, hooking a leg over his shoulder and pressing you flush against the door, his tongue shoved up your pussy and nose against your clit and shakes his head and you nearly scream. You're so wet you can hear yourself, hear flesh sliding against flesh, hear his near-silent moans. His fingers curl into you, snagging against something that makes your legs weak and makes you babble out his name and he finds it again with a little prodding and bullies it with his fingers, rubbing and twisting till you're gasping, grinding down, and chasing the pleasure instead of running from it, “Oh sh-sh-it!” You cry, trying to pull him closer as you hump against his face, “You’re gonna m– I'm gonna–” Your lashes flutter as Farleigh shifts to kneel, hiking you further up the door and forcing you to grind down harder against his tongue and nose.
With a sharp cry, you cum. Your chord snapping as the warmth inside of you boils over. Farleigh makes you ride it out, keeping you closing and still working his tongue through your folds as you come down, he hums— drinking what you give him as your legs shall, and disbelieving giggles leave you. He's slow to stand, kissing his way up your shaky body, slowly coaxing the rest of your clothes off before he meets your lips and you taste yourself on his tongue. “You forgive me?” He asks, once he pulls away and he's still somewhat crouching to be able to look in your eyes, a smug smile pulling at his lips.
You force yourself to frown, to look annoyed despite your shaking legs and racing heart. “Did you make her cum, too?”
Farleigh has the audacity to groan. He hooks his arms around your waist and stands to his full height, lifting you easily and it sends a thrill down your spine. He wraps your legs around his waist as he carries you back to your bed, his teeth ghosting against your collarbone. “Does it fucking matter?”
“Yeah.” You say with a pout as he drops you on your mattress. You watch as he begins to strip, his shirt goes first, then his belt, and he slowly unbuttons his jeans clearly deep in thought so he doesn't notice your impatient looks. You watch eagerly as they drop and his hand slips into his boxers, clearly fisting himself. “Farleigh, did you make her cum?”
“I don't fucking know.” He admits with a frown, “I don't think so. Doesn't matter either. She didn't make me cum,” He lets out a little near-silent moan and you watch the fabric move over his fist, “Haven’t cummed since you left, not even when I touched myself. Closest I got was when I was thinking of you but it's not– fuck, it's not the same, baby. Missed you so bad I nearly fucked a hole into my mattress thinking of you.”
You bite your lip at his words. You bite it harder when he finally pulls down his boxers and his dick springs free and it is weeping, red at its tip and leaking. He rolls his thumb over the head of it before jerking his hand away when his hips try to buck against the feeling. “You’re sick.”
He fucking moans. “Say it again when my dick is in you.” He asks and despite the teasing smile on his face, you have a feeling he's deadly serious. He drops down to the bed, his lips once again connecting with yours. Farleigh rolls his hips against yours, his dick sliding against your pussy and the friction is not enough— you're too wet for it to be grinding at this point and you mumble this against his lips. Farleigh snickers, “There’s no such thing as being too wet.”
You roll your eyes. “Let me on top.”
Farleigh considers you with an odd look in his eyes before he bites his lip and grabs your waist. Your world spins as he settles back against your pillows, pulling you on top of him and he sighs, as his dick catches your entrance in all the movement. “Mm, sit on it, baby.”
You scowl, “Shut up.”
He doesn't, he smiles, his hips humping up towards you. “Know you missed my dick too, I know you missed me fucking you–”
You take him in your hand and he's hot, heavy and it throbs in your grip as you stroke him. Farleigh moans, his little rant getting cut off as he humps into your hand. “You gotta be patient.”
“But I missed you.” He gasps when you grip him harder, his voice cracking as you slowly, slowly sink down on him. “Missed you so fucking bad, missed your laugh, your smile, your beautiful fucking tits–” He gasps as you roll your hips against him. “Oh, fuck, go faster.”
You ignore him, rolling your hips at the same slow pace. Your bed creaks when you move too fast and you're suddenly uncomfortable, aware of the sunlight shining through your blinds, the possible students in the room next to you or below you— you try not to cringe about who heard you cum when you were pressed against the door. You roll your hips again, bracing yourself against his chest, grinding firmly against him, a soft moan leaving you. Farleigh only curses, his feet planted firmly on the bed and he bucks up into you, forcing you into the galloping pace that he wants. Your hands scramble, nails scraping across his chest as he momentarily brutal pace— he's panting in your ear, small and desperate, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck-’s leave his lips like a prayer as he forces your hips down to meet him, the slap of skin nearly sounds like a song and it's nearly enough to make you cum all over again.
You gasp his name in disbelief, one hand rushing to push at his thigh because it's too much. You've just come and you're sensitive and gushy and he's making another mess out of you. Your other hand flies to his neck and you grip hard, pushing yourself up and then down in an attempt to stop his thrust and you're shocked when Farleigh almost completely goes still. He's still panting and his fingers are digging into your hips but he's staring at you with a glazed-over look in his eyes, his parting in a silent moan as your fingers flex against his throat. “I love you.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“‘m not.” He whimpers as you begin to ride him again, bed creaking be damned— he's never not fought you like this. He gasps as you pick up your pace, “I love you so fucking much, wanted to– want to marry you–”
You clench around him and he chokes out a moan. He continues, babbling. “‘nd I'm so fucking sorry baby– fuck– I-I am, I'm so sorry–” Your fingers tighten around his throat and his hips roll to meet your pace, chasing the pleasure. “I love you, fuck– I fucking love you and– and–” His breath catches as you lift your hips and drop back down, he bites his lip, his eyes rolling back. “Please?”
You let out a confused hum and he swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing under your hand. “I'm so close, baby. Haven't cummed in weeks– just please, a little faster, a little harder.” When he asks like that, you don't have in you to deny him, you shift and he answers with a moan as you bounce on his dick. One hand still on his neck, and you bring the other one up to rub messy circles against your clit. The both of you are a mess, moaning and chasing pleasure and when he cums it's with a shuddering gasp— he doesn't warn you as he spills inside of you and you continue to ride him fixated on your pleasure. You cum only a few short minutes after him, collapsing against his chest and he wraps his arms around you.
“Come to Saltburn.”
You're too tired to pull away but you tense in his arms, a sigh leaving you, “Far–”
“Please.” He begs, his voice a near whisper. “Only Felix knew we–” He pauses, a choked breath and starts over. “I didn't tell anyone else we broke up and he's bringing Oliver. Don't let me go back outnumbered.”
“I don't know, Farleigh.” You mumble against his chest.
“It’s only for the summer.” He says. “It’s one summer. Then– then if you mean it, if we're done you can leave. I'll never speak to you again.”
You draw a soft pattern against his chest, a shaky breath leaving you. It's one summer, he's right. Nothing could go wrong in only one summer, you have nothing to lose. Still, “Promise?”
He hugs you tighter, almost as if he's afraid you'd disappear at that very moment. “Promise.”
2K notes · View notes
lovebugism · 3 months
Note
how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy
a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch. 
Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar. 
Speaking of sweet…
His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.
Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.
He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.
“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.
Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”
“Did you sleep good?” 
“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”
“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”
“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”
Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”
Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”
“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”
He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”
“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”
“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.
“Get out of the kitchen!”
“What’d I do?”
“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”
“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”
You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.
The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”
Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”
Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”
“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”
“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”
“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.
“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”
Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.
“You’re welcome…”
Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.
“It’s different!”
The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.
“That’s not true!”
“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”
“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.
“Eddie,” you scold quietly.
The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.
“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”
Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now. 
“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”
“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”
“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”
You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.
The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.
“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.
You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”
“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”
“Eddie.”
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kiss-inthekitchen · 23 days
Text
no vacancy | spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x reader
set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)
word count: 4.7k
notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)
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You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 
You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 
So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.
You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 
You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 
That is, until you opened the door. 
“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  
"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 
“Sure looks that way.” 
"At least it's a queen?" 
There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 
"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 
"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 
"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 
"–mind as long as you–" 
You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 
"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  
It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 
"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.
"Right."
The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.
"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 
"No, you're not doing that."
"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.
"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 
Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 
God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 
Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 
Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 
Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 
“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."
You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 
The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 
“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.
"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  
You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 
Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 
From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 
He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 
Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 
Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 
Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 
“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  
You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 
Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 
“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 
You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 
He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 
“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 
“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 
“Sorry,” you managed. 
“For what?” 
“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 
“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 
Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 
“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 
“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 
“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 
“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 
“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 
“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 
“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 
“You just said ass.” 
“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 
“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 
“I knew you’d agree.” 
“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 
Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 
Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 
You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 
But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 
Eventually, exhaustion won out. 
You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 
You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 
Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 
“Hey, you okay?” 
“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 
“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 
“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 
You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 
He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 
“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 
“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 
“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 
“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 
“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 
“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 
“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 
It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 
“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 
“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 
“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 
“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 
He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 
“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  
“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 
“Don’t profile me.” 
“I’m not. I just know you.” 
You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 
“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 
“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 
“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 
You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 
“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 
“I told you to stop profiling me.” 
This time, he just hummed in response. 
“And so what if I stuttered?” 
“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 
Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings for him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 
“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 
“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 
“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 
“That all makes total sense.” 
“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 
“Now tell me the rest of it.” 
“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 
You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 
“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 
“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 
It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 
“Yes.” 
You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 
Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 
“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  
You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 
He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 
“It is.” 
“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 
“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 
Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 
Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 
“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 
“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 
“I was not–”
“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  
“Oh, this was such a mistake.”
He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  
“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 
He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 
“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 
You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 
“Are you certain of that?” 
“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 
“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 
Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 
He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 
You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips.“It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 
“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 
After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 
For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 
You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 
“Okay, was it just me, or–” 
“That was crazy,” you breathed.
“Crazy,” he agreed. 
“Spence?” 
“Yeah?” 
“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 
Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 
“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 
“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 
“Well, you kissed me.” 
“I did.”  
“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 
“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 
You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 
“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 
“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 
He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 
“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 
“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 
“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 
“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 
You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 
“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 
“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 
“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 
“You’re such an ass.” 
A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 
You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 
Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 
You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 
You text back: okay? 
Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 
You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 
You: what did u say? 
Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 
You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 
Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.
You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 
You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt
You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 
Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night
You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 
Spencer: Oh
Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here
You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much
Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 
You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 
You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 
You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 
“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 
Shit. 
“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 
Unbelievable.
You: you’re unhinged :*
Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 
You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 
Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 
You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 
Spencer: Stop flirting with me
You: bc you’re too delicate?? 
Spencer: Yes 
You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 
You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that
You heard a page turn. 
You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 
This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 
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jpitha · 4 months
Text
Vocal Mimicry and Ear Worms
Every time the drink machine finished, it played a little song.
It was pretty simple, less than 10 notes, but it was the same song, every time.
It wasn't even that it played the same song every time. It wasn't even that everyone on the ship - except the humans - got a drink from the machine.
The song was catchy.
Peg started it. She just found her self whistling the "drink finished" song one day. "beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep." She couldn't help it.
Then, Kelly picked it up. The song worked its way into her head too. She'd be working at her station and suddenly she'd be struck by an intense need to sing the song.
After about three cycles, every single human on the ship was singing it. Normally, this would be chalked up by the rest of the crew as "just another strange Human thing" but the problem was that it was the 'drink finished' song. Everyone onboard was conditioned to want to go get their drink when the song was done.
The humans could mimic is perfectly.
"beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep."
Captain Flowing River Rapid's feathers fluffed in irritation. Two people on the Command Deck got three quarters of the way out of their seats before they realized what they were doing and sat back down, sheepish. "Desmond! What have I said about mimicing the drink finished melody?"
Desmond ducked his head at the reproach. "Sorry Captain River, I couldn't help it. It's just so catchy."
Captain River clacked his beak. "It wouldn't be so bad if not for the fact that you can all mimic the sound so well."
Desmond turned and looked at the Captain. "What? We are? We're singing it, but it doesn't sound exactly like the drink machine."
The Captain pointed at Desmond accusingly. "Don't deny it! You're all singing the song at all times of the cycle! You know that everyone thinks a drink is ready when you do it. You sound exactly like the machine!"
One of the Sefigans who got partially up from their station nods quickly, their antenna bobbing. "Captain River is correct, Des. You all really sound a lot like the drink machine. How are you doing it?"
Desmond shrugged. "I mean, we heard the song, and it gets like, stuck in our heads. Singing it feels like one way to get it out. Plus, it's fun to sing Kel. Fun to make sounds."
Kel's wing covers clack. "Can you mimic other things?"
"I don't know Kel, I don't really think of myself as a mimic. There are others who can do it much better than me. Some humans made a whole career out of it."
"That sounds like a thing I human would do, yes. But what about your Des? Let's see...." Kel looks down at their station. "What about this?"
Kes runs a test for the collision alarm. It's a warbling rising and falling tone."
Des thinks for a second and sings - for him - a pretty close approximation.
Captain River gasps and leans back in his chair. "How do you do that?"
Desmond wails. "It wasn't even that good! I just heard the tones and repeated them."
Kelly entered the Command Deck just then. She was carrying a pad and her overalls looked stained. "Captain River, I've just come to report tha-"
"Kelly! Mimic the collision alarm"
"What? Um.." Kelly makes the same noise."
Now, everyone on the Command Desk gasps. Kelly is taken aback and looks at Desmond. "What's going on Des?"
Desmond sighs. "They say we're all mimics. It started with the drink machine."
"Oh that. I still can't get it out of my head! 'beep beepita beep beep beep beepita beeeeeeep.'"
Kes starts to rise from his seat again and catches himself, and sits back down swearing.
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shadowtriovibes · 10 months
Text
it's a sign of the times
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Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3.2K
Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."
the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.
You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.
Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.
You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.
You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).
It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.
“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”
“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.
“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.
You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”
“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”
“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.
“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”
You scoff. Unbelievable.
“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.
You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.
“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.
“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.
Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.
“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”
“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.
“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”
“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”
The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.
Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.
Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.
“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”
“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”
You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.
One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910
We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.
Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.
Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.
Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.
“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.
“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”
Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.
“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”
“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.
“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”
“What is it?” you breathe.
“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”
The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.
“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”
“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.
Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”
“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”
Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.
“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”
“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”
“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”
But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.
That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.
Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.
“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”
“Who?” Ominis asks.
“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”
“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”
You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”
“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.
Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.
“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”
At once, the three of you freeze.
“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”
“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”
“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”
Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.
Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.
Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.
“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”
“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.
“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.
“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”
“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”
You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.
“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”
“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”
“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.
“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”
You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.
“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.
“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”
Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”
“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”
Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”
“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”
Well, that certainly clears things up.
Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.
You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.
“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”
You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.
“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”
“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”
“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”
“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”
“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”
Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.
“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”
Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”
“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”
Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.
“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”
“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”
“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”
You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.
“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”
“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.
“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”
“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”
“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”
Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”
You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.
The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.
You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.
You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.
“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.
“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”
“What’s that?” you ask.
He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”
You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”
He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.
“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”
“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”
He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.
Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.
“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”
“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”
You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.
“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”
You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”
Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.
“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”
---
[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]
4K notes · View notes
yeonzzzn · 3 months
Text
🧊just come over, would ya?: sim jaeyun
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pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 2.2k
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synopsis: snow storm causes the whole apartment complex power to go out, in which your hot neighbor offers to help keep you warm…
genre: neighbors au!, neighbors to lovers, smut
warnings: swearing, jerking off, fingering, finger riding, unprotective sex, cuddly + funny jake ♡
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Your whole body shook, pulling yet another blanket over your body. 
Your sweatpants, sweatshirt, fuzzy socks, and beanie were not enough to keep you warm through this power outage. 
This was one of the moments you wished you had a fireplace in your small apartment, yet here you are. 
What was supposed to be a small snowfall turned into a snowstorm and the whole apartment complex’s power went out with no word on how long it would take for the power to come back on. 
Your teeth grinded together as you pulled the blankets over your head, pulling your legs to your chest in hopes of getting warmer. 
You tried to sleep, hoping it would pass the time, but due to your freezing, sleep was not going to come. 
You decided to check your phone in hopes of seeing a message from the apartment complex's owner about when the power would be back but instead saw a text from your neighbor. 
Jake: How are you holding up? Heard you sneezed earlier. The building is way too quiet.  You: Obviously I’m freezing.  Jake: Oh, you don’t have a fireplace, right?
You rolled your eyes at your text from him. He was clearly teasing you for not having one. 
Jake was always teasing you any moment he could get. You both attend the same college and have many classes together, so once he moved next door the amount of “good neighbor” jokes he would say was more annoying than his shit-eating grin when he’d say them. 
You: Jake, you obviously know I don’t have a fireplace, don’t be a dick :) Jake: Want to come over and use mine? The fireplace obviously, not my dick. 
You bit your bottom lip in debate. It would be nice to finally be warm, but the thought of being stuck with Jake for god knows how long made you irritated. Mostly after his joke just now.
You: No thanks. I’m good.  Jake: Y/N, I can clearly hear your teeth chattering through these walls.  Jake: I am trying to be nice here.  Jake: Just come over, would ya? Jake: The door is unlocked. 
You knew the best option would be to rush next door and sit in front of the fireplace with him.
Fuck it. 
You jumped from your bed, slipped your feet into your slippers, and rushed out of your room. 
The hallway was way colder than inside your apartment. The darkness of the hall reminds you of something from a horror film, the moonlight outside being the only source of light. 
You quickly jumped in front of Jake’s door, knocking frantically. 
After a soft “come in” was heard from the other side, you opened the door and quickly stepped in shutting the door behind you. 
You quickly took in Jake’s living room, his couch being pushed up closer to the fireplace. 
Jake raised a hand from his couch, “Over here.”
You kicked your slippers off, ready to sit close to the fire, only for your smile to turn upside down seeing Jake sprawled out, lying down. 
The only thing you could see was his eyes, the rest of him being completely covered by his blanket. 
You stared back at him? raising a brow, “Move over?” 
Jake furrows his brows, “No, Hi? Hello? How are you? Nice weather we are having?” 
You rolled your eyes, “Hi Jake, the weather sucks, move over, ya?” 
Jake lifted the blanket off his body, patting his hand to his stomach. 
You blankly stared at him, confused. Until it clicked in your head. 
Jake could read you like a book, your facial expression telling exactly how you were feeling, “Y/N, just come lay down.”
You shook your head, “No, I will sit on the floor.” 
Jake rolled his eyes this time. This was further than ideal for him too. All he was trying to do was be nice. Even with the fireplace he was still freezing and can only imagine how cold you were. 
“Y/N, we would warm up faster, it’s basic science and survival tactics.” 
You tucked your lip between your teeth. You knew he was right, plus he has his couch so close to the fireplace that you wouldn’t be able to fully sit in front of it anyway. 
You rolled your eyes and dropped your arms at your side, “Fine!” 
Jake smiled at you as you laid down on top of him, your head nuzzling in his neck. He threw the blanket back over your body, his arms wrapping around you. 
You hated to admit it, but this was nice. Your body slowly warms up, but obviously not fast enough. 
“If we strip down, we'll warm up faster.” Jake teased. 
You weren’t looking at him but you could feel his smirk that was slapped across his face. 
“Shut up, Sim.” you scoffed at him and a little chuckle left his lips. 
“Hey, I am just saying.” he shrugged his shoulders and you barely looked up at him, glaring at him. 
Jake absolutely loved teasing you. He loved how easy it was. You looked way too cute to him when he got you all mad. 
The way you’d look at him and the smiles you would try to hide when you thought he was being funny. It pulled at his heart more than he’d like to admit. 
Jake closed his eyes and wrapped his arms a bit tighter around you, his main focus to help keep you warm. 
Unfortunately laying in the same position was making you uncomfortable. You slowly started to wiggle around, trying to lay more comfortably. 
The friction of you moving against him was sending Jake’s thoughts into other places, biting down on his lip and steadying his breathing to keep calm. 
But you noticed all the well the bulge growing in his sweatpants against your stomach. 
“Sim Jaeyun,” you warned, shifting your leg up a bit, accidentally rubbing your knee against his hard length. 
“Stop moving then, jeez.” Jake spat out, his heart racing against his chest. 
You could hear how fast his heart was going, how it threatened to beat out of his chest. 
You just wanted to be comfortable, “Let me get comfortable and I’ll stop moving, I promise.” 
You slowly lifted your leg a bit more, Jake’s hand flying to your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze.
“Y/N,” he softly breathed out. You looked up at him, seeing the lust that filled his eyes, “If you keep moving on top of me, I can’t promise I’ll stay on my best behavior.” 
The way his voice spoke those words sent chills down your spine. You’ve never seen Jake look so serious and so…hot. 
You’ve always been attracted to Jake, he was such a good-looking man. But the Jake in front of you with lust and want written all over his face was enough to dampen your panties. With the way your name rolled off his tongue in warning made something in you click. 
Jake slowly laid his head back down on the armrest, his grip on your thigh not leaving. 
With the way Jake looked at this moment, made you want to test his limits. The way his eyes searched for something on the ceiling to focus on while his heart pounded and his dick twitched against your tummy. 
The hand that rested on his chest, you slowly slid down, your fingers brushing his soft skin where his shirt slid up from your leg. 
Jake hissed at your touch, his eyes closing, “Y/N, this is your last warning.” 
But you kept going, reaching your thumb to slide against his tip over his sweatpants, a soft “fuck” leaving his lips. 
You moved your hand down more, all your fingers grazing his clothed hard-on. His hand leaves your thigh to grip your hand. 
“If you keep up-“
“Kiss me.” you interrupted him. And that’s all it took. 
Jake’s lips found yours, one hand was placed at the side of your neck and jaw, and the other went back to your thigh. 
Jake kissed you with such hunger, his hand squeezing your thigh tightly. 
His tongue found its way into your mouth and rubbed against your own as he moaned on your lips. 
You snaked your hand down his sweatpants and underwear, wrapping your hand around his length, your thumb rubbing the precum around his tip. 
Jake released his lips from yours, resting his forehead on yours panting with each stroke your hand made. 
Strings of “Fuck fuck fuck fuck”, rolled off his tongue as you pumped him. 
You released him, sliding both hands up his torso and pulling his shirt along with them. 
Jake helped you remove his shirt and right after removing your own. Your shirts and beanie being thrown off somewhere else in the room. 
Jake kissed you again, his hands sliding from the sides of your face down to your shoulders, his fingers looping at your bra straps pulling them down. 
With just two fingers, Jake unclasped your bra and removed it from your body. 
The skin-to-skin contact drove you insane with how warm his body felt against your own. 
Jake squeezed your ass, a soft moan leaving your mouth and oh god it was music to his ears. 
Jake wanted to feel every inch of you. To worship your body the way it deserves to be. 
“Take your pants off,” he whispered, his thumbs looping into your sweatpants. 
You sat up getting rid of your pants and panties, your hands reaching for Jake helping him slide his off. 
His cock slapped against his abdomen, the precum glistening from the light of the fireplace. 
Jake’s hand snaked between your folds, groaning, “You’re so wet for me baby.” 
His long fingers pumped in and out of you. You flip your head back and dig your fingers into his chest. 
You rolled your hips against his fingers. Jake bit his lip at the site of you riding his fingers, your juices coating them.
God you were a sight to see, your facial expressions sending Jake over the deep in. 
He loved the way your hips rolled against his fingers, he needed to see how they’d work with his dick deep inside you. 
“Baby,” the Aussie man pled, “I need you on my cock, please.” 
You nodded, lifting yourself and lining the tip with your entrance. 
Jake threw his head back onto the couch’s arm as you slid down into him, “Oh fuck baby.” 
You started rolling your hips, placing your hands on his chest for support.
His hands went to your breasts, cupping both of them. Squeezing them with every roll of your hips against his. 
“Fuck baby, you look so beautiful riding my cock. Such a good girl for me.” 
“Hmmm, Jake, you f-feel so good.” you moaned out, sitting yourself up even more to bounce on his dick. 
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, Y/N. Oh, fuck me.” Jake groaned, his hands flying to your hips, slamming you down onto him. 
He helped you pick up speed, the knot in your stomach ready to burst. 
Jake knew you were getting close with the way your breath became unsteady and how you clenched around him. 
He felt like he was in heaven being fucked by an angel. 
Jake has dreamed of this moment since the day he met you in class and knew it was fate when he moved in next door. 
The moment he heard your soft moans coming from the other side of his bedroom wall he dreamt of being the one making you moan. 
He tried so hard to cover his ears, knowing it wasn’t something he needed to be listening to, but found his hand wrapped around his cock as he pumped himself to your moans. 
Now that he could hear your moans clear as day in his ears drove him wild. 
“Jake, I-I’m cumming.” you pant, your movements becoming sloppy. 
Jake pulled your body back down onto his, lifting his legs and wrapping his arms around your waist holding you down into place fucking into you. 
Your hands went into Jake’s hair as you chanted his name. 
“Cum for me baby girl,” he said between breaths, “Make a mess on my cock for me, ya?” 
You let go, the ecstasy washing over you. 
“That’s my good girl, so fucking good for me.” 
Jake fucked you into overstimulation, his cock twitching inside you, ready for release. 
“Jake,” you whispered into his cheek, placing small kisses. 
“I’m cumming baby, fuck, I’m cumming.” 
Jake connected his lips back to yours as he pumped his load into you, moaning against your lips. 
Jake loosened his grip on your body, slowly moving his hands up and down your bare back as the kisses went from lustful to soft and sweet, filled with passion. 
The only sound heard was your lips moving against each other and the crackling of the fireplace. 
As if on cue, all the lights in his apartment came on. The sound of the heating system starting up. 
“Guess the power is back.” You whispered against his mouth, slowly laying your head down on his chest. 
“I don’t know about you, but I was plenty warm.” Jake teased, earning him yet another glare from you. 
“And we are back to teasing, I’m going home.” 
“No no, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Jake said, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “I am not ready for you to go yet.” 
You giggled, “You know we are neighbors, right?” 
“Mmhm,” Jake hummed, “Make sure you always treat your neighbor well, never know when another snowstorm will hit.” 
You couldn’t be mad at him for that joke. He did keep you warm and won your heart over. 
“Y/N?” 
“Yes, Jake?” 
“Let’s do this more often.
a/n: this was a bit rushed and I apologize, but I still hope you all enjoyed it!
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loveronlineee · 2 years
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The Metalhead and the Material Girl (Eddie Munson x Reader)
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Masterlist   All Parts
Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)
Warnings: none
Synopsis: When a super fem new girl joins Eddie’s class he thinks he’s got her all figured out, but he soon finds out that the popular kids aren’t the only ones who judge people’s first appearances 
Y/N notes: none
Okay I don’t usually do writers notes but I gotta say thanks to these four: @carolinaflicker​ @iamsiriuss​ @hauntingtherosebush​ @lindsey3300​ for helping me out on the lil bit of D&D stuff I mentioned. Some of you guys had slightly different answers for me so if I’m still wrong let me know! (And other D&D playing peeps)
Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!
Wanna request something? Look here!
“I’m Y/N L/N. I transferred here from California for my senior year. I like pop music, fashion and hanging out with my friends. And I hope I can become friends with all of you!”
Pretty. Bubbly. Probably a bit of an airhead. The popular kids will scoop her up in a heartbeat. Eddie thought to himself looking up at the new girl. I wonder how long it’ll take for her to be just like everyone else.
The teacher pointed at the empty seat on the metal head’s right, giving the boy a stern look.
“Y/N I’m gonna seat you next to Eddie here at the front so you can help me keep an eye on him.” Eddie grinned and gave the teacher a wink.
Okaaaay here we go. Eddie thought to himself, leaning back in his chair. What kind of popular girl is this one gonna be? Disgusted by me? Weirded out? Just plain old pretend I don’t exist?
“Hi, Eddie was it?” The new girl asked with the biggest most genuine smile Eddie had ever seen. Her face was enough to melt away any built up hate he had accumulated from every harsh comment thrown at him throughout the years.
“Uh yeah Eddie. Eddie Munson.” He couldn’t help the smile appearing on his own face. This girl was a ball of sunshine.
“Nice to meet you Eddie.” He watched as she took out her things from her bag and set them out on the table. Everything was either pink, glittery or had a cute little character on it. She wrote the date on a new page in her notebook, doodling little stars around the numbers.
The teacher came over and placed a piece of paper on Y/N’s desk.
“This is your time table with your classes. Don’t be afraid to ask someone for help.”
“Oh thank you!” Y/N chirped before beginning to read through it. “Hey Eddie, what classes do we have together?” She tilted the paper towards him. Eddie leaned over and skimmed the page.
“Oh wow most of them. We got all the same ones today in fact.”
“Do you mind if I just stuck with you then?”
“Y-Yeah. Yeah that’s cool.” Eddie wasn’t in fact planning on going to all his classes today, like most days, but he couldn’t pass up the chance to get to know this girl more. He spent the morning walking Y/N to all her classes, pointing out other parts of the school she’ll need to know. He revelled in the looks the other students were giving him when they saw them together. The resident freak with a mystery bombshell.
Lunch came around and Y/N followed Eddie to the lunch hall.
“Hey I’ve been meaning to ask you… what’s on your shirt? Is it a band?” Y/N asked.
“It’s my club.”
“Oh cool! You run a club? What’s it about?” Eddie smiled at her as they reached his table of friends.
“A little game called D&D.” He turned to them and gestured to the new girl. “Gentlemen, this is Y/N.”
The boys all looked at her slack jawed, unable to think of anything to say. Luckily, Y/N had enough social skills for the whole table.
“It’s nice to meet you all! I started here today, Eddie’s been showing me around.” She explained as Eddie pulled out the chair in between his and Dustin’s and letting her sit down. He sat in his own chair at the head of the table just observing his friends trying to process this girl being here.
“You’ve been with Eddie…” Mike started asking very slowly, like he was waiting for the pin to drop. “…since this morning?”
“Yeah he’s been really helpful.” Y/N smiled at the younger student. “So are you two freshmen?”
Y/N continued chatting with Mike and Dustin. Eddie looked behind them at the popular kids who were eyeing him suspiciously. The cheerleaders all glaring and whispering to each other. “Eddie!” The metal head looked back at Y/N.
“Yeah?”
“So all these guys are in your club?” She gestured at the group. “You were gonna tell me about D&D earlier, what’s the game about?” Y/N asked, genuinely interested. Eddie grinned. He stood up like he was presenting to a class. Everyone sat up, hands neatly rested on the table, going along with the joke.
“D&D, or Dungeons and Dragons, is a fantasy table-top roleplaying game that only a select few at this school truly appreciate.” Eddie used theatrical hand motions as he described the game, putting one foot on his chair to add to the dramatic effect. “It is a game of teamwork, decision making, and the luck of the dice.”
He gave Dustin a small nod which prompted the boy to take a heavy book out of his bag and put it in front of Y/N. The Dungeons and Dragons Handbook. She began flicking through it, taking in as much as she could. She gasped.
“Can I be a fairy???” Eddie chuckled at her enthusiasm. He sat back down and shuffled his chair closer to hers.
“I’m sure I could homebrew something for you. Either that or you could be an elfen princess? If you just want that pretty ethereal girl look.” Eddie paused. “That… you’ve already got.” He looked back down at his hands, a little hesitant of his last line, before looking back up. Y/N was smiling at the compliment, easing Eddie’s nerves.
“Hey!” Two cheerleaders had approached the table, one calling out to Eddie with annoyance in her voice. “Why don’t you just stick with the freaks?” Eddie leaned away from Y/N and looked to the popular girls.
They turned to Y/N, who seemed a little confused. “You can come and sit with us instead.” One of them said, like she was doing the new girl a favour. Y/N looked over at Eddie. He kept his face the same, not wanting to influence her decision.
Of course he wanted her to stay, but he just couldn’t deal with the guilt of depriving Y/N of having an actual enjoyable high school experience. It didn’t matter how pretty she was, if she was hanging out with the freaks then she was gonna get bullied.
“Oh uh okay then.” Y/N replied apprehensively, slowly getting up. “I-I’ll be back in a minute.” She said as she was dragged away by the cheerleaders. Eddie pursed his lips together in a saddening smile.
“Suuuuuuuure you will.” He said just as Y/N got out of earshot. He looked around at the guys. “And that my friends, concludes the story of the time we almost got a hot chick to play D&D.” The group mumbled and chuckled, going back to their lunch, clearly no where nearly as affected as Eddie.
He knew this was inevitable. With who Y/N was and who he was. But a part of him, a small part of him wanted to believe that she’d stay. For him. That she wouldn’t get poisoned by the ideologies of the social hierarchy. But that was just wishful thinking. He looked back down at the table.
At least it was nice while it lasted.
“Sorry bout that.” Eddie looked back up to see Y/N again. “So I can be an elf princess?”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“…why are you here?”
“I did say I’d only be gone a minute.” She smiled. Eddie stared at her, unable to speak. His head slowly turned to the popular kids. They looked even more surprised than him.
“W-What about them?” He gestured.
“What about them?” Y/N asked, confused.
“Aren’t you gonna hang out with them?”
“They don’t seem like people I’d want to hang out with.”
“They don’t?”
“Do I look like a bully to you?” She joked. “So, elf princess? Yes?” Eddie’s smile retuned to his face.
“Yeah. Yeah definitely a princess.”
Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries​ @ruhro7​ @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski​
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lorarri · 4 months
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꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐄𝐗'𝐒 𝐍 𝐎𝐇'𝐒 ─ 𝐅𝟏 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃 ˚₊· ꒱꒱
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─ summary . . . ❨ the sister of sergio perez is beloved figure in the paddock who has a passion for music so her new cover song causes quite the stir ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ f1 grid x fem! perez! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . ❨ ngl had so much fun with this request since i love the tiktok trend so enjoy! ❩
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❨ taglist | masterlist ❩
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yourisntagram
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liked by schecoperez lewishamilton 43,761,201 others
yourisntagram something coming soon
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user SLAYEDDDDD 😩
user the grip u will always have on me is ???
user you’re glowing fr 😩
user mothering.
user madam we need a new cover song ASAP ⤷ user or even better an original ⤷ yourisntagram 🤭
user i’m but a spec on your shoes 🧎🏽‍♀️
user ate. devoured. broke the plate.
user new music when
user 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
user one chance miss Y/N
user even in little make up she is still a goddess
user one chance miss y/l/n
user the shirt is spitting facts
user not looking respectfully 😮‍💨
user i folded like a pretzel
user she’s an icon, she a legend and she is the moment 😩
user the way the whole f1 grid is in Y/N's likes ⤷ user that weird ⤷ user they like us fr
user how perez shares the same dna with this women is the biggest mystery of all time
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yourisntagram
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liked by charles_leclerc maxverstappen1 67,871,045 others
yourisntagram one, two, three, they gonna run back to me
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ANNOYING ASS BITCH please tell me you haven't been fucking my colleges behind my back... read
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─ requested by . . .
@raizelchrysanderoctavius ─ Request please 🥺🙏https://youtu.be/0uLI6BnVh6w?si=YS5m2hkJujripg94This song has been stuck in my head for months 🙂So I just have an idea 😭What if y/n (can be female or male) is the siblings of one of the drivers, they are pretty infolded in their siblings f1 career, so people familiar with their presence in the paddock.They're not a singer, but sometimes like to cover songs that fit their lives.They're close to a lot of other drivers. But never confirmed to be dating any of them.Suddenly out of nowhere they cover the "Ex's & Oh's by Elle King" the fans and people are in uproar. Because y/n always sing a song that telling their life story.
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