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#don’t ask me why they’re not consistent
arsillanola · 9 months
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Look I’m posting art for the first time in *checks notes*…uhhh a while.
I’ve been pretty obsessed with good omens after season 2, and the finale drove me insane. But I’m not going to complain when it made me create art for the first time in literal years. So, thanks @neil-gaiman, I love these silly celestials
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henreyettah · 1 year
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First tlt comic pls be kind to me
Edit: made a very minuscule change. Might take a trained eye to see it (hint)
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nope-body · 8 months
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#I fucking hate how my dad has essentially told me that it’s my fault I’m in so much pain#not that he’d ever acknowledge how much pain I’m actually in#but I just keep getting told that my general physical condition is my fault and I’m a burden for needing more support than others#and that I don’t know what I need or how to take care of myself and just generally that I’m bad for being disabled#not that anyone would ever say that I’m disabled#and I just hate it! I’m so tired of it#I’m tired of my dad treating exercise like a cure and my mom supporting me only when my dad isn’t around and never in any meaningful way#and I’m tired of feeling like an unlovable burden when I’m in so much pain that I can’t stand#because it’s really getting to my head! I almost texted my friend asking them if they were sure they wanted to be roommates with me because#I might be in pain sometimes and that might impact them#like. what the fuck!? they already know I’m disabled and they’re disabled too! and we support each other and we are more than aware of what#being roommates consists of. my parents are just getting into my head to the extent that I feel like I shouldn’t be around people because#I’m a burden and unlovable due to my pain and I would tell anybody else that that’s wrong#so why am I letting myself believe it?#also I keep saying that my parents are getting better but I don’t think they’ve changed. They can communicate a bit better but#their feelings are the same and that’s the problem. they don’t understand and they don’t care until they’ve had time to think about it#about it and normally I’d be fine with that but when you’re stuck on the floor crying in pain you just want someone to care#you don’t want to wait until your health comes up weeks later in a conversation#you just want compassion and someone to be there with you and tell you it’ll be okay#they have never done that
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cetoddle · 1 year
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having a crush is literally like. everyone injured no survivors
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talkingattumble · 7 months
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Hi guys! Here’s some advice from a cane user on how to spot a fake cane user/disability faker!
YOU CANT
You can not spot a “fake disabled” cane user. You can not know if someone’s “really disabled”, much less by just looking at them. Here are some common misconceptions.
“Cane users always need their canes. If they walk without it or put it away when it’s inconvenient, they’re faking”: WRONG! Many cane users are what we call “ambulatory” cane users. This means they don’t always need their canes to walk. I’m an ambulatory cane user, and I experience really horrible leg pain on the daily. However, I don’t always use my cane, and when I don’t need to walk or stand a lot in a certain place I don’t use it. And when I do use it, I may lift it off the ground or carry it in places that are sandy, gravelly, or otherwise hinder my cane.
“Cane users walk abnormally without their canes, someone who walks normally without their cane is faking”: WRONG! Many ambulatory cane users can walk in a way that seems “normal”. This doesn’t mean they’re not in pain, or not “really disabled”. This just means that their condition doesn’t cause a noticeable difference in walking, and likely manifests in a different way.
“Cane users always need their cane, someone who doesn’t use their cane at home is faking”: WRONG! Cane users may not use their canes at home, because at home they may be able to do things like sit down wherever and whenever, regain more spoons, and use other mobility aids. Additionally, some ambulatory cane users only need or use their canes when they are doing something physically taxing, like going on a hike or standing in a long line.
“My cane user friend told me this person looks like they’re faking, so it must be true”: WRONG! Being a cane user doesn’t immediately make you an expert on all different conditions and experiences. Your friend does not know the random cane user walking down the street, they are going off looks and stereotypes. Disabled people are not immune to being ableist.
“They enjoy their cane too much/they’re too happy/they decorate their cane, so they can’t actually be in enough pain to need a cane” WRONG! We’re people like everyone else, and we experience positive emotions too, even if we go through a lot of pain. To me, customizing my cane is like getting a tattoo or putting streaks in my hair, it’s a way of self expression. And we deserve to be able to talk openly about our full experience, which include the parts we’re neutral or happy about.
“They’re one of those cringey teenagers who name themselves arson and like dsmp, so they’re probably faking” WRONG! Do I even have to explain why saying someone isn’t disabled because of their name and interests is messed up and also stupid? Or did you already know that and just wanted to make fun of a disabled teenager?
“They’re too young to be using a cane, so they must be faking” WRONG! there are lots of disabilities or injuries that can cause young people to need a mobility aid. For example, I use a cane for my fibromyalgia.
“They only use it in private places, and never in places where people recognize them, so they must be faking” WRONG! In a world where anyone can just randomly take out their phone, take a picture of a cane user, and post them online to be made fun of, it can be stressful to use a cane in public areas. Also, they may not want people to ask questions, or they may feel embarrassed about it.
“I saw them switch hands, so they must be faking” WRONG! There are different reasons a cane used might do this, but I’m going to use my experience as an example. My fibromyalgia is not consistent. Sometimes one leg hurts more then the other. But as I said, fibromyalgia is inconsistent, and sometimes my other leg will start to hurt more or need more support, which is when I switch hands. And when both my legs hurt equally, I may switch my hand if it’s getting too sore.
“They told me they feel like they’re faking when they use their cane, doesn’t that mean they don’t really need it?” WRONG! Imposter syndrome is strong in a lot of disabled people, especially when for a lot of our lives we were told by doctors that we were fine and just being dramatic. Anxiety is also comorbid with a lot of physically disabilities, which only strengthens this. To add to this, something that I’ve felt and seen other disabled people talk about it, when their disability aid lessens the pain, they start thinking “well I’m not in that much pain so I don’t really need it” even though the reason they’re not in that much pain is because of the aid. I know it seems dumb, but imposter syndrome can be that strong and affects disabled people a lot.
“They don’t have a diagnosis, so they must be faking” WRONG! First of all, diagnoses are expensive. On their own they’re often already expensive, but counting the tons of tests you have to take to confirm the diagnosis? Absolutely ludicrous. Some may also choose not to get a diagnosis, so that they don’t have to deal with the prejudice and setbacks of being diagnosed. Also, some people use a cane for injuries, and for stress or fatigue related pains.
These are only a few of the things I commonly hear from fakeclaimers, and I wanted to just put out a reminder that fakeclaiming hurts the disabled community much, much more than it does ableists. Next time you see someone with a cane switch hands, or someone with a wheelchair stand up, or someone with crutches put them down, before you immediately call them out to a friend, take a picture, or write a post: does your fakeclaim rely on stereotypes? Are your reasons things that apply to ambulatory aid users?
If so, just stop. Be mindful. Please.
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tkingfisher · 1 year
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Right! Apropos another post, let’s talk about lawn crayfish aka The Lobsters Beneath Our Feet!
This is Craw-Bob. He’s about three and a half inches long.
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Long ago, when I had only gardened in the Southeast for a year or two, I saw an interesting hole in a flowerbed. It was rather deep and had a muddy front porch. I gazed into this hole, thinking “Ooh! Is it a rodent? A snake? A toad?”
And then I saw…the Claw.
It was unmistakably a crustacean claw. And it was in a hole in my yard. My terrestrial yard! Why was there a crustacean in my flowerbed?!
I could not have been more astounded if an octopus tentacle had come flopping out. I ran screaming for my husband and the internet, both of whom said “Yeah, that’s a lawn crayfish, they do that.”
And yes. There are about 400 species of crayfish* in North America, and a not inconsiderable number of them are burrowing species. The devil crayfish, which builds little mud towers, ranges from the Rockies to the Atlantic and as far north as Ontario. There are a number of other species as well. Some are limited to stream banks, but many burrow in lawns, flowerbeds, and other places with consistently damp soil, which means that there is a non-zero chance that when you wander around the grass, a tiny lobster is lurking somewhere beneath your feet.
You would think that more people would know this, but at no point in my life had anyone ever mentioned it to me.
Being me, I immediately set out to determine if other people knew about lawn crayfish and I had just somehow missed it. I took an informal poll—by which I mean I accosted random strangers at the farmer’s market, the coffee shop, and my doctor’s office—and discovered a stark divide. Half the people looked at me like I was telling them I’d seen a lawn chupacabra and the other half looked at me like I’d asked if they’d ever heard of squirrels.
It was not divided by social class or education. The farmer with the heirloom breed hogs knew about them, his wife did not. My nurse practitioner first thought I was hallucinating, then went out into the clinic, and began demanding to know if her co-workers had heard of this. My barista was like “Yeah, mudbugs,” but he’s from Florida, so may not count.
My theory is that if you know they’re there, it’s just a fact of life so obvious that you don’t bother to comment on it, and if you don’t—well, why would you ever assume that any given hole in the ground comes from a goddamn MINI LOBSTER? And since they mostly just hang out underground during the day and don’t really hurt anything, it just doesn’t come up very often, until one day you’re at the farmer’s market, just trying to sell some organic tomatoes, and a wild-eyed woman with a Studio Ghibli T-shirt descends on you yelling “Are you aware of lawn crayfish?!”
(Yes, they’re edible, but it’s a lot of work popping them individually out of their burrows.)
During torrential rains, they will often leave their burrows and wander around, which is how I got the photos of Craw-Bob. My hound spotted him in the garden and poked him with her nose, whereupon Craw-Bob poked back. Hound, not sure what was happening but that it was probably bad, began doing her “release the humans!” alarm bark, and I came out to find her toe to toe with a crustacean who was waving its claws and presumably screaming “Come on if you think you’re hard enough!” in Lobster.
Despite their willingness to fight everything, they’re pretty harmless. The most they do is move soil from underground to a little pile above. I’m sure golf courses hate them. Our local county extension office suggests “These nonprolific creatures should be appreciated like an interesting bird or turtle living on the property.” Some, like the Greensboro burrowing crayfish, are so rare they were thought to be extinct until somebody found one in the backyard.
So. Lawn crayfish. They exist! And could be lurking underfoot as we speak!
*or crawfish, depending on where you’re from.
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stayinlimbo · 1 month
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cat walk
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pairing: lee minho x reader ft. soondoongdori requested?: yes; 100 followers celebration genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, i am only using my own cat experience, lowercase intended, slightly unedited word count: 935 note: thank you @infinity-tiny for the request. i definitely took some creative liberties with it but i hope you still like it ♡
if anyone had asked minho what he thought he’d arrive home to on a seemingly normal friday evening, he probably would’ve described his typical welcoming committee consisting of you shouting out a “hey min!” from somewhere in the living room or kitchen, and, if he was lucky, his cats poking out from their usual hiding spots to greet him. 
it most certainly wouldn’t have been this, yet here we are. 
minho’s hand hasn’t even released the front door handle before soonie’s pleading eyes bore holes into his soul. the cat’s large body is draped comfortably over your shoulder, but minho can tell that soonie would rather be literally anywhere else than where he currently is.  
the sound of rustling diverts minho’s attention towards the ground next to your feet. doongie’s sprawled out form rubs against a pair of shoes strewn to the side of the entryway as he noisily meows at the sight of his owner’s (father’s) figure barely stepping past the threshold. 
minho flicks his eyes back up as soft clicking noises reverberate around the narrow hallway, watching the final child hesitantly making his way towards your free, outstretched hand holding his favorite treat. 
“what are you doing?”
dori’s cautious steps halt at minho’s voice, making you quietly groan out in frustration.
“hey min, happy to see you, now shhh for a minute please,” you hastily whisper, gaze focused on the brown tabby. the soft clicking resumes and dori finally comes close enough for you to scoop him up in your arms alongside his older brother. 
you whirl around to face your boyfriend, who at long last has properly entered the house and closed the door. a radiant grin illuminates your face at the sight of him. if minho’s being honest, it tugs at his heartstrings a bit. you missed him and you’re so happy to see–
“hold soonie and dori for me, will you? i need to grab this bag real quick,” you rush out, not giving him much of a choice as you’re already transferring the two cats into his arms. 
okay, so maybe not. 
minho watches you jog over to a bag he didn’t see at the end of the hall, laughing at the tiny slip in your footing when you turn around to come back towards him. you plop down next to doongie, giving him a quick pet before fishing in the bag and pulling out a leash and a cat-sized reflective vest.
hold up. 
“you didn’t,” minho blanches, watching you put doongie’s head and paws through the green vest’s openings, hooking the leash to the rings that are now attached to the cat’s back.
“i did. soonie,” you reply, reaching up for your next (unwilling) participant. minho crouches down next to you, reluctantly complying with your demands. 
“you’re going out now?” he questions. poor soonie is not as cooperative as his younger brother, and it takes everything within minho to not save him out of pity for what is to come. 
“yes, they’re more frisky in the evening—dori—so i thought ‘why not?’”
“but it’s dark outside,” minho tries to reason, passing you the final feline. it’s of no use, you are too far gone. 
“that’s what the reflective vests are for. duh,” you counter, rolling your eyes with a fond smile as you let dori leap out of your hold. “there, don’t they look ready for the outdoors?”
the cats are all sprawled in different positions on the floor. soonie still looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doongie is preoccupied with swatting the bag now, and if dori could make himself any smaller, he would turn into a perfectly shaped ball. 
no, ready isn’t the word minho would use. 
you must see the hesitance still lingering behind his eyes because  this time you sift through the bag to retrieve a human-sized reflective vest and pull it over your sweatshirt. 
“if it makes you feel any better, i’ll be wearing this the entire time with them to be extra safe. please, please, please let me try this,” you beg, looking at him with your best imploring eyes. 
minho has to give it to you, you’ve gotten better at this. you must’ve been practicing after the last time he told you “no” to something he can’t even remember at this point. 
he lets out a sigh at your unwavering gaze, finally giving in to your pleas. “...did you at least get me one?”
“of course i did, who do you think i am?” you scoff lightly, digging through the bag and extending your hand towards him with his very own green reflective vest. 
as minho slips on what, in his opinion, is the ugliest vest he’s ever seen in his life, he can’t help the smile blooming on his face growing wider. although this may be one of the weirdest methods (and he means it) you’ve used to get the family all together, he can see the commitment and energy you put into making sure everyone would be safe. 
you don’t need to know right now that he tried this years before he met you and that the cats will give up entirely about ten steps away from the walkway. he’ll let you discover that on your own. 
and as you call “hurry up, let’s go!” to him halfway out the door with soonie and dori in your arms, doongie trailing slowly by your feet trying to bite the loose leash dangling in front of his face, minho knows he wouldn’t trade this for the world. not when he has the ones he loves most all in one place.
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liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡
taglist: @linospuddin @linocz
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A fluffy/ mild angsty valentines fic with Bucky where reader gets HIM flowers ( because of the whole guys don’t get flowers thing :((( ) maybe there’s some mutual pining and sweet confession? Like she gets the flowers for him because he makes some joke about not having had a valentine for nearly a century and she’s just like “absolutely not will not allow that >:(“ but he thinks it’s just a joke at first :(
Anyway thanks! Love you!
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Bloom.
bucky barnes x female reader
warnings - none
valentines masterlist. inbox. masterlist.
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“Are we almost done?”
Bucky looks so miserable, you can’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, we are. We just need flowers, and then we have everything on the list.”
He grabs the shopping cart and pushes it across the grocery store, determinedly marching in the right direction. You’re practically running to keep up with him.
“Which ones?”
You look at all the flowers, touching some of the petals gently as you decide.
“I’m not sure. What’s your favourite kind of flower, Buck?”
He looks at you with a blank expression.
“I don’t have one.”
“What?”
Now it’s your turn to look blankly at him.
“I’ve never been bought flowers. Why would I have a favourite type?”
You frown at him. The idea of Bucky never receiving flowers makes you much sadder than it should, but you’re trying to play it cool.
“Oh. Well… which of these do you like the look of the most? They’re going to go in the middle of the table in the kitchen, so they need to be bright. Give the room some colour.”
He circles the flower display a few times, looking around carefully. Eventually, he picks up a bouquet of tulips, all pinks and oranges and yellows.
“I like these.”
You smile softly, nodding your head.
“Good choice.”
You’re somewhat distracted as the two of you check out. You put the tulips in the bag carefully, glancing at Bucky every so often. He catches you looking, and can’t help but wonder what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.
✵  ✵    ·  ✵    *  · ✵
You’ve been standing outside Bucky’s door for the better part of fifteen minutes.
He knows.
He heard your footsteps, can hear your chest heaving, lungs working overtime. He’s just waiting for you to make your own decision.
Eventually, you do. After thirty minutes, you decide to just do it. You’ve got nothing to lose.
You knock.
Bucky swings open the door as if he’s been waiting for you, standing patiently on the other side.
“Breathe, honey.”
You didn’t even realise you’d been holding your breath. You exhale, never breaking eye contact with the man in front of you.
“Hi, Buck.”
“Hi, you.”
“I got you something.”
“You did?”
You grab the bouquet from where you’ve leant it against the wall, holding it out to him.
He stops in his tracks, brows furrowed in confusion.
“They’re… for me?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
You inhale deeply, willing yourself to find some temporary courage.
“Because tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. And no one has ever bought you flowers.”
He’s smiling now, soft and knowing.
“You’re the kindest person I’ve ever met.”
He says it so sincerely, so genuinely, that it makes you want to cry. You hand the flowers to him, grinning as he admires them up close.
“They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
That takes you by surprise.
You and Bucky have always had a careful, consistent friendship. Ever since he first barrelled into your life, you’ve thrown tender smiles his way, nodding your head in acknowledgement every time he passed you in the hallways. He warmed to you, slowly but surely. Your kindness, your generosity, your genuineness - you’ve charmed him delicately, somewhat accidentally.
You’ve also been in love with him since day one.
You never thought to mention it - he’s healing, learning, growing as he goes, and you don’t want to halt his progress. So, you’ve pined from a distance, gently and quietly.
“Buck… will you be my valentine?”
He beams at you, the most luminescent smile you’ve ever seen from him.
“Oh, sweetheart. I’ve been working up the courage to ask you that every year since I met you. Knew you’d beat me to it.”
You laugh, stepping in closer to him. He puts the flowers down carefully, reaching out to cup your face in his hands.
“Can I kiss you, my valentine?”
You nod, already leaning in. He presses his lips to yours, and he swears he feels flowers bloom in his ribcage, bright and alive.
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scuderiahoney · 3 months
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Blackbird
Daniel Ricciardo x reader
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Masterlist
Summary: You’re a bartender at a mountain lodge. When Danny shows up, you’re determined to keep your distance. It doesn’t really go to plan.
a/n: definitely inspired by this moodboard I made for the lovely @shootingstar-scuderia for my 1k celebration!
Word Count: 10.1k
Warnings: alcohol, mild sexual content
People come and go at the lodge, but they don’t stay for long. That is, except for you and your coworkers. They’re the only consistent people in your life. The customers, the guests- they pass through like ships in the night. They tell their stories, share their adventures, and then move on. It’s half the fun, really.
You should’ve known he’d be different from the very start. Most of them come in, sit down at the bar, and are eager to tell you all about themselves. They want to impress you, want to prove that they’re the biggest adventurer in the whole place. And sure, the road to the lodge is rough and steep and half the time it’s washed out. But most of them arrive in vehicles driven by guides, and they tote their expensive luggage through the lobby, decked out in brand new hiking gear bought special for this trip. When he shows up at the bar, he’s in a threadbare t-shirt, a pair of loose shorts, and a worn down pair of hiking boots.
He’s flanked by friends, ones who have genuine smiles on their faces and are dressed much the same. He seems to be the ringleader. The first thing you really notice about him are the tattoos scattered up and down his arms. He rests his elbows on the bar, looks utterly at home there. You wander down to take their order.
“I’ll have whatever beer you’d recommend,” he says, Australian accent shining through.
You get a lot of people with accents in the bar. They come from all over. You’re not surprised at the accent, though you might’ve guessed he was American from looking at him. You nod and pour him a glass of your current favorite before taking his friend’s orders and doing the same. He takes a sip and sends you a wide grin, one that seems genuine. People smile at you a lot, trying to get a discount on their drinks or look good in front of their friends or sometimes, more than that. But this just seems… real. Like he always smiles that brightly.
“That’s good,” he says, nodding eagerly. “A woman after my own tastes.”
You laugh and nod. “You’ve got good taste, then.”
He preens over that, runs his hand through his hair. Then he sticks the other one out to you, over the bar. “I’m Danny.”
You shake his hand, the way you do each time someone introduces themself to you. You try and commit his name to memory, because he’ll likely be back a few times before he leaves the lodge and they always tip better if you remember their names. He repeats your name back to you, like it’s not written plain as day in your nametag, like he actually cares.
He tilts his head towards you. “So. How’d you end up here?” He asks.
You raise a brow at him. “Normally I’m the one asking that question.”
He laughs. He folds his hands on each other and rests his chin on them.
“Exactly. You must hear about a billion of the same stories, rich people on their vacations, roughing it in the woods,” he laments. “So come on. What’s your story?”
You’re not sure why you tell him. Looking back, in the interest of self preservation, you probably should’ve lied. But at this angle, he’s staring up at you through thick, dark eyelashes. He has the prettiest smile you’ve seen in months, maybe years, maybe ever. So you look down the bar, make sure nobody’s waiting on you. Danny and his friends are early, so you don’t have much to worry about.
You shrug. “Graduated high school. Decided college wasn’t for me.” You pick up a rag, rub at a spot on the bar just to look busy, just to avoid looking right into his eyes. “I’ve been on the move ever since. I landed here about a year ago- cheap room and board, good tips, and,” you jerk your thumb towards the large picture windows looking out over the valley and mountains. “The view’s not so bad.”
Danny laughs at that, and his gaze flickers to the windows. The sun is just barely beginning to set. Soon the tourists will pour into the bar and restaurant, hungry and thirsty from their days full of adventures. But right now it’s quiet. The calm before the storm.
“Nice,” he says. “Bet you’ve got a lot of cool stories.”
You shrug, though you smile a bit at the thought. “Yeah. Hasn’t been a bad life, you know?”
He nods. Someone sits down at the bar, and you head down to take their order. Soon enough, you’re too busy to stop and chat with Danny, having to limit it to quick drink requests and offhanded remarks. You swear you feel his eyes on your the whole night. He closes out the tab a little before 9:00, pays for everyone and leaves a big tip. For a second, you remember that he’s probably just some big wig exec from some tech company, cosplaying as an outdoorsy man for the weekend. And that’s fine, you’ll support it as long as he’s nice to you.
He tosses a grin over his shoulder as he leaves, and sends a little wave your way. You swear he winks. And really, it was that moment that you should’ve known that Danny was going to be a problem for you.
…..
The employee cabins are in a secluded spot on the property, but you prefer to have your morning coffee on the back porch of the main lodge. It’s got the best view, the coffee is free, and at this hour, there’s nobody else up. Nobody, that is, except the man from the bar the night before. Danny, you remember. Huh. Usually it takes longer for the name to stick.
You watch over the edge of your book as he comes jogging up the path. He’s shirtless, skin glistening with sweat. It’s early morning, the sun barely poking up over the horizon, and it’s not that warm yet. Either he’s been working hard or he’s out of shape. From the glimpse you catch, you decide he’s definitely not out of shape. You force your eyes back to the book as he makes his way towards you. You won’t be caught staring at the shirtless guest. That would be a bad idea.
Said shirtless guest walks right up to you, though, and sticks his finger into the spine of the book, tugging it downward. You quirk a brow and look up at him. The audacity to interrupt your reading- you’re not sure how to even react. Your face betrays you as a smile crosses your lips.
“Good book?” He asks, nudging the cover.
You shrug. “It’s okay. I’ve read almost everything good in the library here.”
Danny wrinkles his nose. “You said you didn’t like… you know. Academic stuff.”
“I said college wasn’t for me,” you clarify. “I like reading.”
He nods in understanding, that signature smile on his lips. “So what’s this one about?”
You blink up at him. “Dragons.”
“Sounds fun.” He looks to your cup of coffee, sitting on the table in front of you. “S’the coffee any good?”
You nod. He takes a couple steps towards the building. “Can I sit with you? None of my friends are up yet.”
“Well it is 6am, and you’re on vacation. Can’t say I blame them.” You say, dancing around the question.
It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him. In fact, you have a strong urge to lean close and learn everything about this man. But he’s a guest and you’re an employee. They encourage you to be friendly with the guests- it helps them feel at home, your manager says- but not too friendly. Besides, Danny will be gone in a few days, and he’ll forget all about you the week after. It’s how it goes.
But he turns and raises his brows at you, and you sigh and nod. “Yeah, you can join me. But I want to read, so…”
“I’ll be so quiet,” Danny promises.
He scurries off to get coffee. You let out a long breath and pick the book back up. You’re definitely going to regret this decision. Danny doesn’t seem like the quiet type.
In his defense, he manages to stay quiet for about ten minutes. He sits down in one of the chairs next to yours, leaning back and sipping his coffee. From the angle, you can peek up over the edge of your book and sneak glances at him. He has his eyes closed, or at least close to it. He’s still shirtless, though you can see the t-shirt he must’ve been wearing hanging from the waistband of his shorts. You’re not looking at him, really- just trying to tell if he’s looking at you.
Then he starts to fidget. First he crosses his legs, then uncrosses them. He stretches his arms above his head, fingertips spread wide. Then he slouches in his chair and lets out a heavy sigh. You meet his eyes over the top of your book.
He raises his eyebrows. “What are you doing up so early, anyways?”
You should be irritated. This is your quiet morning- he’s interrupting your personal time. You come out here to drink coffee and read and listen to the birds, not some rich man trying to talk your ear off. But. He’s so genuine about it. Like he actually wants to know. Be friendly to the guests, you think.
“I’m a morning person,” you tell him, resting your book on your lap. “And I love it here before everyone wakes up for the day, you know? Like it’s just me and the world.”
He nods in understanding. He props one foot up on the chair, bends his knee close to his chest. His shorts slide up to reveal a whole mess of tattoos on his thigh. You tell yourself not to stare.
“That’s how coming here feels for me,” he says, softly. “Nice to be away from people for a bit.”
You’re starting to wonder if maybe he’s different.
“Like a breath of fresh air,” you suggest. “But for your mind and heart, too.” You pause and roll your eyes at yourself. “Sorry, that’s a bit hippy of me to say, but-“
“No, I agree,” he says, softly.
Someone opens the door to the lodge and calls out his name. You swear his face drops. He turns over his shoulder and nods, and then pushes himself to stand up.
“Well. See ya ‘round,” he says, voice soft.
You nod and pick up your book again. “See ya.”
…..
You get to know him, bit by dangerously intriguing bit. He works for Red Bull, apparently. Doesn’t give many details past that, so you assume it’s boring. He does know Scotty James-
“There was a guy who came here last winter, a snowboarder, he had a Red Bull helmet-“ you say, snapping your fingers. “Scotty something, wasn’t it, Will?”
Will, your coworker, is cleaning glasses at the bar. He raises his brows at you, and his gaze flickers to Danny, and then he says “Scotty James.”
You nod and turn back to Danny. “You know him?”
Danny laughs. “I was in his wedding.”
Danny also has a ranch in Australia where he rides dirt bikes in what he refers to as the ‘off season’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. He shows you a video, and honestly, you’re not one for adrenaline but it looks pretty fun. You suggest they talk to your boss about taking the ATVs out on the trails, and he perks up at the sound of that.
Danny tells you about his family, too. About his parents, his sister, his nephew and niece.
“M’trying to teach them good music,” he tells you on the back porch one morning. “None of that little kid shit.”
You laugh. “None of the educational shit, you mean.”
“Music’s not for your brain,” he scoffs. “It’s for your soul.”
“There’s at least 100 scientists who would definitely disagree,” you tease.
You agree with him more than you’ll ever let on.
When he walks into the bar one evening and you have his drink already waiting for him, you start to wonder if you’ve grown a bit too attached.
…..
Your boss, Michael, calls you up to the main lodge early the next day. He’s bent over the front desk, crossing off names and writing new ones down. He looks up at you with wide eyes, brows furrowed.
“Hey. I know you’re not up on the rotation yet, but d’you think you could cover an overnight camping trip?” He asks. “Sadie’s out sick, and Billy’s got a family emergency.”
Though your main job is in the bar, all of the staff take turns taking guests on overnight trips in the mountains near the lodge. You hike out with them, help set up all the gear, start the fire, and then help pack up the next morning and hike back. Depending on the group, it can be fun. When they’re not too high maintenance, you can sit around the fire and tell fun stories and get paid to do it. Other trips, you end up setting up all the tents and doing all the work and then you get ignored for most of the night.
“It’d be you and Will,” your boss adds.
Will’s one of your favorite coworkers. The two of you get along great. Michael knows this, and you wonder for a moment if he’s already talked to Will, or if you’ll be a bribe to get him to agree, too. You lean over the counter and sigh.
“Are they gonna be annoying?” You ask. “Like. Are they the type who’re wearing the brand new gear, or no gear at all, or are they somewhat okay?”
He juts his chin towards the back porch, and you follow his gaze. Danny’s out there, throwing a football back and forth with one of his buddies. You quirk a brow and turn back to Michael.
“He didn’t ask for me, did he?” You ask quietly.
Michael’s brows furrow. “No. Is he making you uncomfortable? You know you can tell me-“
“No,” you insist, shaking your head. “He’s nice. Just, you know, checking.”
Michael nods. “So? What d’you say? You’d leave tomorrow, come back the next morning. Quick out and back.”
You shrug and nod. “Got nothing better to do.”
The guys are missing from the bar that night. You see them come in later, arms around each other, probably just back from some sort of expedition. One of them- Blake, you think his name is- is trying to corral all of them, reminding them of their big hike the next day. They disappear into the elevator. Just before the door closes, Danny looks straight at you and gives you a wide grin.
When you meet them in the lobby the next morning, his grin stretches even wider.
“No way,” he says, eyeing your hiking backpack and the boots on your feet. “Not only are you the best bartender, you also do guided hikes?”
You nod and smile. “Only one at a time, though. Unfortunately I’m not very good at making drinks in the backcountry.”
Danny shrugs. “We’ll survive.”
You clap your hands and look around at the group. “Alright, campers, you ready to hike?”
They all nod and chime in with various agreements, so you pick up your bags and head for the doors. Danny falls into step next to you near the front, while Will takes up the back of the pack. You run through your usual spiel that you do when you lead a hike, and then you’re off.
It’s peaceful for a few minutes. Like the guys are all trying to act like good naturalists, like they’re trying to soak it all in. And then Danny trips over a rock, and someone teases him for it, and it’s all downhill from there. It’s entertaining, really- the way they pick on each other. You can tell they’re genuinely friends.
You take a break for lunch at a perfect spot overlooking a valley. Danny whistles lowly when he sees the view, and he elbows you lightly.
“You take all the guys to this spot?” He jokes, wiggling his brows at you.
You roll your eyes and elbow him back. “Just the ones who are stupid enough to follow me deep into the woods.”
That earns you a full bellied laugh, one that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. You’re struck again by how genuine he is, how his walls are down or maybe even nonexistent. It makes your chest ache.
You eat lunch together, and you point out the mountains by name from the little overlook. They’re all great at playing along. They ask how the peaks got their names, which one is your favorite, if you’ve ever made it to the top of any of them.
“That one,” you say, pointing at one of the smaller peaks. “Mount Mirlo.”
“Mirlo?” Danny asks, testing out the word.
You nod. “I think it means… blackbird? Yeah. In Spanish.” You nod your head towards the mountain. “Anyways. They drag everyone up there the week they first get hired. It’s a hazing thing.”
“It’s not hazing if it’s fun,” Will chimes in, and Danny laughs. “Admit it. You had a good time.”
“I got bit by so many mosquitos and very sunburned,” you deadpan. Then you grin. “But yeah, it was sick.”
You set back off on the hike after lunch. Eventually, you come to a log bridge over a river. Danny peers over the edge as you wait on the other side, brows raised. There’s a little spot where the water pools there.
“Looks like a good spot to jump in.”
You laugh and wrinkle your nose. “That river is absolutely frigid. It’d be like an ice bath.”
He shrugs and grins at you. “Just saying.”
The camping spot isn’t far from the bridge. Once you arrive, you begin to unpack the tents to get them set up, while Will starts getting things ready for the fire. You unroll the tents, lay out the poles, and then-
Danny’s next to you, hands on his hips. “How can we help?”
You blink up at him from where you’re crouched near the ground. “Oh, you don’t have to… usually we do the set up.”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “We came here to go camping,” he says. “Tell me what to do.”
They all get started setting up the tents, and you’re amazed at how much quicker things go when there are more people actually doing work. The camp is set up in record time, and someone helps Will gather firewood. Danny insists on helping to make dinner, too, and soon everyone’s sitting around the warm fire and eating happily.
“No food in the tents,” you warn, looking around the group at all of them. “It goes in the bear box. You don’t want a bear to come looking for breakfast in your tent.”
Danny nods in agreement with wide eyes. As everyone finishes dinner, they start chatting. You sit down on the dirt and stretch out backwards, staring up at the purple hues sky. The sun is setting, and when you lay down fully on the ground, your back aches. Danny, who’s sitting next to you, lays down too and lets out a long groan. You laugh.
There’s something about the proximity that has your heart racing. His hand is next to your on the ground. If you reached out just a little you could touch his warm skin. Nobody would even notice.
A bird lands in the tree. You pull your hand away to point at it instead.
“Blackbird,” you say, and Danny nods.
“Mirlo, right?” He says. You nod in response.
The bird starts singing. You mimic the sound by whistling, albeit not very well. You drop your hand back to the ground next to you as you do, and Danny laughs affectionately, attempting to whistle too. You swear you feel his pinky touch yours, and your whistling falters.
Will pulls out the marshmallows soon after. Everyone gets excited over that. You all wander around to find good sticks to roast them with, and then meet back at the fire. You watch in absolute horror as Danny takes his marshmallow and sticks it directly into the flames. It lights on fire mere seconds later, and by the time he pulls it out with a panicked noise and blows on it frantically, it’s charred and black. He gives you a sheepish look. You sigh.
“You’re so bad at this,” you say, shaking your head.
He nods in agreement. “Always have been.”
His friends try to give him instructions, but it’s no use. By the time he’s on his third burnt marshmallow, everyone else is on their second s’more. You take pity on him- before he can char another one, you take the stick from him and roast it for him. You stare in concentration, finding just the right spot and turning it carefully until it’s roasted perfectly golden brown. Will helps you assemble the s’more, and you hand it to Danny with a soft smile.
“Here,” you say, quietly.
He takes a bite, then lets out a soft moan that has you heating up in a way you shouldn’t be. “That’s amazing,” he says. There’s melted chocolate stuck to the corner of his mouth, and your fingers itch to wipe it away for him. “I crown you queen of s’mores.”
You curtsy, nodding your head at him. He laughs and nearly drops the treat. You spot the issue before he does, and your fingers bump clumsily against his as you try to assist him. His hands are warm, and probably sticky from the marshmallows. You don’t let your touch linger long enough to find out.
Eventually, everyone heads off to bed one by one. Will gives you a questioning look when it’s just the two of you and Danny left up. One of the guides always stays up until all the guests go to bed- it’s a safety thing. You nod to Will, and he stands and stretches and heads for bed. The two of you are sitting on a sideways log next to the fire, and once Will goes into his tent, it’s just the two of you, the flames, and the dark expanse of night.
“Spooky,” Danny says quietly.
You nod. “You get used to it, after a while. The dark gets a little less scary. The quiet, too. When I first got here, the quiet was so…”
“Loud?” He says.
You laugh, but he’s right. “Yeah. Loud.”
He nods in understanding. “It still feels like that for me. My day to day life is so noisy, you know? The quiet is a little overwhelming.”
You nod and nudge his shoulder. “That’s gotta be good for you, though. Healthy, I think, to take a break from the noise.”
His shoulders drop, and he leans against you, just barely. “You’ve got no idea, little mirlo.”
You laugh and lean into him, too. He’s warm and firm against you. You could reach out, could touch him, could tuck yourself right into his side. He’d probably wrap his arm around you, probably pull you close. You bet he smells good, like sweat and smoke and laundry detergent, and maybe vanilla, or something spiced and warm, or…
His pinky bumps against yours on the log. You suck in a breath and look up at him. There’s a question in his gaze, one that has you nearly choking on thin air before he even asks it out loud.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, nearly a whisper.
And you want to say yes. God, you want to say yes. But-
“Look, Danny,” you say, keeping your voice low. “You’re a sweetheart, really. And you’re cute-“
“Perfect, so-“
“But I don’t date guests,” you say, leveling your eyes at him. “Or, like- I don’t do hookups, or get close with guests. It’s against the workplace rules, and it’s a recipe for disaster.”
He smiles softly- you think somewhere deep in your heart, you knew he’d react like this. With kindness, understanding. He tilts his head, and he squeezes your knee gently.
“Okay,” he says, softly. “I’m not going to push you on this, because I don’t want to be a creep. But if you change your mind-“
“I won’t,” you say. You’re not sure if you’re trying to tell him or yourself.
“I know,” he agrees. You think he’s lying, too. “But if you do, promise you’ll let me know?”
You snort out a laugh and stick out your pinky. “Promise.”
He goes to bed soon after that. You stay up until the fire goes out, staring at the coals, wondering if you’ve made the right choice.
….
When you wake up the next morning to a shuffling noise outside your tent, your first thought is that the bears have finally come for you.
Your second thought, when you hear Danny’s laughter, bright and loud, is: why the hell is he awake? You can tell from the light outside that it’s barely morning. You hadn’t been planning on waking up for a few more hours, really. You hear him whisper your name loudly, and you groan, reaching to unzip the door to your tent just slightly.
He’s crouching in front of your tent, wearing a wide smile. “Wanna come jump in the river?”
You wonder for a second if this is some insane, weird dream. You blink and rub your eyes, but no, he’s still there.
“What?” You ask, voice scratchy with sleep.
“We’re gonna do a cold plunge,” he says. “Wanna join?”
“I thought you were a bear, you know.” You say, and he grins impossibly wider.
He makes a low growling noise. Behind him, near the fire ring, you hear one of his friends laugh. He rolls his eyes and reaches his hand out, tapping on the door of the tent.
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he says.
“I didn’t bring my swimsuit,” you say. “And I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone call a cold plunge fun.”
Somehow, though, you find yourself following him, and his friends down to the river. You’re not surprised to find they haven’t talked Will into joining- he promises to have hot coffee waiting for all of you. You’re in a pair of spandex shorts and a baggy shirt- the same clothes you’d worn to sleep. Danny’s reassured you that none of them have real swimsuits either, and you figure you can let the clothes dry by the fire while you make breakfast when you get back. The morning is quiet as you all hike to the bank of the river, other than the sound of water getting louder and louder. There’s the bridge you crossed over on the way, and the little pool that Danny had said looked like the perfect spot to jump in.
“You know, when you mentioned jumping in yesterday, I thought you were joking,” you tell him. “Remind me why we’re doing this again?”
“Health,” he deadpans.
You stare at him, wide eyed, waiting for him to expand on the statement. When he doesn’t, you roll your eyes and kick off your shoes anyways. He picks his way down the riverbank, peering over the edge into the pool of water. You follow along, wanting to get it over with.
He turns over his shoulder, grins at you, and then jumps in feet first.
He emerges from the crystal clear water with that same stupid smile on his lips. He wipes droplets of water from his face as he treads water, letting out a loud whoop. You want to scold him for scaring off any potential wildlife, but then he’s waving you in, calling your name. You sigh and brace yourself, consider chickening out for a moment, and then jump in after him.
The icy water shocks your senses so badly that you have to remind yourself to not breathe in underwater. It feels like needles all over your skin for a few moments, then uncomfortable numbness. When you emerge above the surface, you do so with a sharp scream, and to the sound of Danny’s laughter. You shake your head wildly and try to brush the cold water off your face with shaking hands. Then you swim for the bank.
“Gotta stay in,” Danny calls out, and you turn to look at him. “No health benefits if you just jump right back out. Give it a few seconds.”
You glare at him, teeth already chattering. “I think you’re full of shit.”
Even if he is, you stay in the water. You find a spot where your feet can at least touch the bottom. The rest of his friends jump in, too, splashing each other and Danny. You laugh as you watch them, watch the pure joy of a bunch of men turning back into children again. Finally, Danny swims for the bank and reaches for your hand to help pull you out. Your whole body shakes and shivers, and there are no towels to dry off with, because this wasn’t in the plans. There are wool blankets, however, and Danny picks one up and holds it out wide. In a moment of weakness and extreme cold, you let him wrap you up in it. There’s water glistening on his skin- you try not to stare. Nobody’s around to see other than his friends, anyways.
The whole group trudges back up to the campsite, where Will has a fire roaring and water for coffee heating up. You duck into your tent to change into dry clothes, and you take everything other than your underwear back out with you to dry. You’re not ready for the guys to see that this early in the morning.
You sit down on one of the logs, bundled up in a hoodie and sweatpants. Your wet hair drops cold water onto the back of your neck, and you shiver. The guys are still in their tent, and you can hear them chattering with each other. Will is eyeing you warily.
“I really didn’t think they’d talk you into it,” he says, quietly.
You shrug and muffle a yawn into your elbow. “He’s persuasive.”
Will quirks a brow. “Yeah?”
You close your eyes and drag a hand down your face. “Not like that.”
He hums. “The dude obviously has a crush on you.”
You pull your knee up to your chest. “I know. We talked about it. I told him… you know. It’s against the company policy-“
“You do remember how I met my wife, right?” He asks, quietly.
You keep your eyes closed, mostly because you don’t want to see the look on his face. “Yeah. Shut up.”
“Just saying,” he says, softly.
Before you can respond, there’s a commotion from the tent. You open your eyes to Danny stumbling his way towards the two of you, now dressed in a fuzzy sweatshirt and a pair of shorts. He saunters over to you and stops short, warming his hands on the fire.
“Well? Feeling the health effects?” He asks.
“I feel like a drowned rat,” you state, glaring up at him.
“You look like a drowned rat,” Will chimes in. You elbow him harshly.
“Mm, no, cuter than a drowned rat. Maybe a drowned koala. A drowned puppy?” Danny suggests, then frowns. “Alright, never mind, that felt morbid.”
The three of you laugh. One by one, his friends make appearances. Will hands out coffee and asks about the river, and you smile at the retelling of events. Eventually, you pack up all the gear- with help from everyone, a happy change from most groups, and head down the trail once again.
You know Danny will forget about you after he leaves, but you wonder if you’ll ever be able to lead another camping trip to this spot without thinking of him.
…..
Danny sticks to his word- he doesn’t make a move again. He does continue to spend time with you. You’re not exactly complaining, but it doesn’t make your decision any easier. He finds you on the back porch the next morning after the camping trip and resumes your morning coffee tradition. You put the book down fully this time- slip the bookmark into your page and close the cover. Your time may be limited with him, but you’re going to soak up every second.
You’re trying desperately not to get attached. It’s not working. He’s telling you a story about Australia, about his ranch there, about the dirt bikes and his parents and everything in between. And you sit there and regret ever telling him he couldn’t kiss you.
You know it was the right choice. Know it’ll only cause you heartbreak. But he’s so attractive, and sweet, and he loves his mother- his mum, even the way he says it is cute. You want to tell him you changed your mind. You sip your coffee instead.
You’ll be able to survive the rest of the week. Danny and his friends leave on Saturday. It’s Thursday now. That’s only a few more interactions, if you’re lucky. Only a couple more back porch morning coffee meetings, a few more drinks at the bar. You’ll survive, he’ll leave, and you’ll both move on. He probably already has.
Then you’re in the break room and you hear someone mention the Friday bonfire and Danny’s name in the same sentence, and your heart drops.
You and your coworkers have bonfires down by the employee housing every Friday. People who are working join after their shifts, and you all rotate the early Saturdays to make sure everyone can have a good time at least once a month. It’s your way to unwind. It’s supposed to be employees only, and sometimes a couple people’s friends. The only guests who’ve ever attended a bonfire since you started working at the lodge were a girl named Britt and her friends, and now Britt is married to your coworker Will.
“So Danny actually said they’d be at the bonfire?” Will asks, and you turn to stare at them.
Maybe he’s not talking about your Danny. You shake your head, knowing that calling him yours, even in your head, is stupid.
“Danny?” You ask. “Like- Danny?”
Will nods.
“What happened to no guests at bonfires?” You ask, turning towards the coffee maker to start another pot.
Tony, one of the kitchen staff, laughs. “Yeah, sure, but it’s a bit different when it’s Danny Ric, isn’t it?”
You shake your head in confusion and turn back to your two coworkers. “Have you even met him, Tony? Why are you out here calling him nicknames?”
Tony blinks widely at you. “That’s what everyone calls him.”
“Everyone.”
Tony nods and shovels a forkful of pasta into his mouth. You grimace. Will watches the two of you, an amused smile on his face. Someone calls Tony’s name, and he goes racing towards the kitchen, leaving his pasta abandoned on the table. You turn your stare to Will. Suddenly, you realize something.
“He’s like…” you sigh and sink down into a nearby chair. “He doesn’t just work for Red Bull, does he?”
Will laughs. “He told you he was in Scotty James’ wedding and you really thought he was just some company exec?”
“Will, I barely know who Scotty is!” You snap. “You should’ve told me.”
Will shrugs and pats your shoulder when he walks past you. “It was more fun this way. Besides, if he didn’t tell you, bet he didn’t want you to know.”
“What does he-“ you cut yourself off. “I mean, is he an athlete, then?”
Will is scraping food from his plate into the compost bin. “You ever heard of Formula One?”
You pick at your salad. “It’s like NASCAR, isn’t it?”
He makes a coughing noise. “Okay, maybe don’t start with that. I’ll give you a basic rundown.”
When you do see Danny the next morning, bright and early, you choose to start with, “good morning, Danny Ric,” instead.
He pauses halfway across the porch, hands at his sides. His skin is glistening with sweat. You’re wearing sunglasses- the perfect chance to let your eyes wander, just a little bit. He wipes at his brow and cocks his head.
“You don’t just work for Red Bull,” you say, and he chews on his lower lip. “I mean, understatement of the century.”
He laughs at that and takes a few steps towards you. “Yeah. Sorry.”
You shrug. “You could’ve told me, you know. I wouldn’t have treated you any differently.”
Instead of going for his normal spot in the chair next to yours, he stands in front of you. If he moved just an inch farther, his knee would touch yours. He sighs.
“I know. It wasn’t that. Honestly, I just figured you wouldn’t care,” he says with a shrug. “Like. You must get so many people here trying to convince you they’re not boring. It’s gotta get exhausting.”
You laugh at that. “Yeah, but your job is actually interesting,” you say. “You know, it does explain all the running. And all the adrenaline chasing.”
He finally sits down- you breath a sigh of relief. You weren’t really sure how he’d feel if you brought it up, but you hated the idea of knowing something about him without him knowing. You stick to your word- you don’t treat him differently. You pick your book back up and read for a bit until he gets fidgety, until he decides he wants to tell you another story. And then you listen with a smile, because it’s Danny. The joy is infectious.
…..
“You ever been to Yosemite?” He asks you later that afternoon.
You’re working the lunch shift at the bar. Danny had been wandering through the lobby, spotted you, and sat down for a drink. He’s having a mocktail, something you came up with just for him. You wonder how long it’ll be before one of his entourage comes looking for him. His phone has been buzzing repeatedly on the bar, and he’s been ignoring it.
You shake your head. “Not yet. It’s on my bucket list,” you say.
He nods. “That’s where we’re headed next. Spending a week there, and then it’s back to work.”
You blow out a long breath through pursed lips. “Your life is so difficult,” you say, teasingly.
He grins and shakes his head. “Wanna come with?”
You laugh as you scrub at a spot on the bar. You wait for him to echo the sound. He doesn’t. You look up at him, wide eyed. He should be laughing, he always laughs at his own jokes- it should be annoying, but it’s sort of endearing, the way he can’t finish a sentence sometimes, how he doesn’t make it to the punchline.
But he’s not laughing. “I’m being serious,” he says.
“Danny,” you say with a soft sigh. “We have a policy-“
“As friends,” he interrupts. “I promised I wouldn’t pressure you. That’s not what this is. You’re just… really cool, and we’ve got room in the car, and… I could really use your s’mores skills. Blake is shit at it.”
You cock your head at him. “I have to work. Not all of us get week long vacations in the middle of tourist season.”
He lets out a long sigh. “Right. Yeah.”
“Sorry,” you say, realizing you’re being a little harsh. “And thank you. The invite is really sweet. I just…”
I just can’t look at you without wanting to kiss you. The words are there, at the forefront of your mind and on the top of your tongue. It’s becoming a real problem, because he’s about to leave and you’re going to be stuck here, waiting and hoping he comes back. And he’s sitting here, asking you to go to a national park with him, and you want to say yes so badly because you think that maybe kissing him would be the best thing you’ve ever done. That maybe letting him in might be the right choice.
But he’s a guest, it’s against the rules, and he’s leaving. He sighs and nods, downs the last of his mocktail. He finally picks up his phone and raises his brows, then gives you a sheepish look.
“Gotta go,” he says, softly. “But I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”
You nod. “See you tonight.”
…..
You take your time getting ready for the bonfire. It’s difficult- usually you wouldn’t think twice about what you’re going to wear, or what you look like. But Danny’s going to be there, and suddenly everything’s different. You have a thin line to walk- go all out, and your coworkers will notice and tease you. Don’t put in enough effort, and maybe Danny won’t even look your way tonight.
You eventually settle on a pair of jeans and a crew neck sweatshirt. The sun has just gone down, and there’s already a chill in the air. You make your way down to the bonfire area, following the well worn trail and the smell of smoke.
Danny’s already there, standing around near the firepit. His friends are all scattered with the rest of your coworkers, eating hot dogs that were cooked over the fire and chatting. Someone’s set up lawn games, far enough from the firepit to keep anyone from getting injured. You grab a drink from the cooler and make your way towards the group, trying not to stare at Danny.
He calls out your name, though, in front of everyone, which gives you a valid excuse to make your way towards him. You weave through throngs of people and end up right by his side. He’s been chatting with Will and Britt, which you think is probably a dangerous combination for your sake.
“Bout time you showed up,” Danny says brightly. “I’m in s’mores withdrawal, and once I’ve had one of yours, I can’t go back.”
You laugh and kick your toe at the ground. “I told you, I did absolutely nothing different.”
“Nah, he’s right,” Britt chimes in, and you throw a glare in her direction. “You’re a s’mores magician.”
You sigh and roll your eyes, and then you turn to Danny. “You get me the supplies and I’ll make you a s’more.”
He bounces away eagerly. Both Will and Britt are watching you with knowing looks. Feeling childish, you stick your tongue out at them. Will manages to look vaguely offended, while Britt just laughs.
Danny returns with a roasting stick and all the s’mores ingredients. You take them without complaint, watching his hands as he gets the crackers and chocolate set up. He follows you closer to the fire as you search for just the right spot.
“He kept burning his to a crisp on the camping trip,” you tell Britt, a teasing lilt to your voice. “That’s why I made him one. He was helpless.”
Britt laughs. Danny jabs at your side, and you let out a yelp. Your drink is hanging from your other hand, and you take a sip before you stick the marshmallows over the fire. Across the fire, Tony, the guy who called Danny Danny Ric, is watching you with wide eyes and whispering to one of your other coworkers. This is what you were worried about- get close to Danny, and people will start talking. But he’s leaving tomorrow, and you can’t bring yourself to care.
“See, it’s not about the flames,” you tell Danny, who leans closer to listen. You gesture with your beer. “It’s the coals. You find the right spot, and then you gotta have patience. It’s a slow process.”
He lets out a hiss. “M’not good at patience. Or slow.”
You roll your eyes and smirk. “I’m sure you’re very fast.”
He gasps in mock hurt and digs his fingers into your ribs again. You squeak and bat his hand away.
“You’re gonna ruin the marshmallows!” You warn as he reaches for you again.
He pulls his hand back and smiles innocently. You take a sip of your drink and stare up at him through your lashes, the same way he does to you when he’s sitting at the bar. You wonder if it has the same effect on him as it does on you. From the way he swallows, you think it might.
…..
You’ve only had a couple drinks, because as much as you’ve said you’re going to forget about him, you really do want to remember every last moment. It gets late far too quickly. The stars are out, and the moon too, casting everything in a silvery glow. The moonlight paints one side of Danny’s face- the fire, the other. Warm and cold at the same time.
More than half the people who started the night there have wandered back to their rooms and cabins. Danny’s friends all went to bed a while ago, gave him stern instructions to join them soon. They’re leaving early tomorrow, getting up with the sun and heading out. He needs sleep.
Instead, he’s sitting next to you on a log next to the fire. Your knees are touching, shoulders brushing with every movement. He’s nursing his second beer of the night. You stare at the rose tattoo on his hand and fight the urge to trace the inked lines.
He nudges your shoulder lightly. You stare up at him, face warm, not from the fire.
“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” He asks, voice low.
You shrug. You can’t tell him. I want to kiss you. I want to feel your hands on me. I want to read the tattoo on your chest, trace the lines of all of them. I want you. I changed my mind. Except, really, you’ve wanted this the whole time.
“Just tired,” you say instead, rubbing your thumb against the can in your hand. “I know it’s your last night here and all, but I might head to bed.”
It hits you like a sucker punch as you say it- if you go now, you’re saying goodbye. You could get up early and see him off, but you think that’d be a bit much. He seems to realize it too- his face drops.
“I’ll walk you back,” he offers.
“You don’t have to,” you answer.
You want him to. But you know what you’ll do if you make it to the door of your cabin and he’s standing next to you. You know the choice you’ll make. You’ll regret it in the morning when he’s gone and already forgetting about you, when you’re just the girl he hooked up with at the lodge on his vacation, when he goes back to his life of luxury and supermodels and-
“I want to,” he says, softly. “There’s bears here, you know.”
He growls lowly, right near your ear. You giggle to cover up the way it makes you feel like you’re on fire. When he stands and holds out his hand to help you up, you let him. He says goodbye to a couple people. You avoid Will and Britt’s gazes. Then the two of you set off down the path.
He keeps his distance. I’m not going to push you on this, because I don’t want to be a creep. But if you change your mind… You reach out, bump your hand against his. Knuckle to knuckle. He echoes the touch. Then you wiggle your fingers against his, desperately hoping he gets the message. When he tangles his fingers with yours, something slips into place.
There’s this energy thrumming in your body when you make it to the cabin area. You’re sure you’re shaking with it, even more sure that he’s noticed. You head for your cabin and squeeze his fingers. It’s dark here, nothing but the light of the moon to see by. You walk up to the door, his hand still in yours.
“D’you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, trying desperately to sound nonchalant.
He squeezes your fingers. You turn over your shoulder and meet his eyes. They’re half lidded and dark. Like he knows where this is going.
“I don’t want to pressure you,” he says. “That’s not what this was about. I don’t-“
“I know,” you say with a nod. “I know.”
He nods, ducks his head. You push open the cabin door and step inside, hand still linked with his. He takes a deep breath.
“I won’t be offended if you don’t want to,” you say, softly. “You can change your mind, too.”
His eyes slip closed, and he shakes his head. Then he follows you in through the open door.
He’s the one to shut it. And then his hand slips from yours and falls to your hip, pulling you close. You wrap your arms around his neck. Your heart is racing in your chest. You wonder if his is too. You blink up at him, watching the way his jaw clenches.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks again, for the second time in a week.
“Please?” You ask, softly.
It’s like all his resolve disappears with that one single word. The night fades around you- it's just you and him. Nothing else matters.
His lips are hot and insistent against yours. When his hands fall to your hips, they’re even hotter and more insistent. He walks you back towards the bed, shoving at your sweatshirt and the t-shirt underneath it. You do the same with his hoodie, hands scrambling underneath, searching for skin. The skin you’ve been looking at all week, wishing you could touch- you can, now.
He’s in your room, in your space, and he backs you up to the bed. Your knees hit the mattress, and you fall back, away from his kissing, with a soft laugh. You stare up at him through your lashes, your whole body on fire. His hand falls to your knee and draws a slow line up your thigh. You reach up and tug on the hem of his sweatshirt, chest already rising and falling rapidly.
He leans over you, and you know your hand in the neck of the fabric, trying to pull him closer. He has himself propped up over you with one hand, eyes lit up like firelight, lips parted.
“Kiss me,” you whine, as his palm falls to your hip and squeezes. “Danny-“
His lips meet yours again, and it’s frantic after that. You shove his shirt over his head- yours follows it to the pile on the floor. He steps out of his jeans after you undo the button and the zipper, and then he’s tugging your pants down your legs, breath catching in his chest as he gazes down at you. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, biting down, and you trace fingers up the ridges of his abdomen. He traces a line from your navel up the center of your chest, presses his thumb to your lips, and you whine.
“Please, Danny,” you breathe.
His eyes slip shut. “M’trying to prove I can be slow and patient.”
You gasp as his hand cups your jaw. “Yeah- well- I can’t, so-“
He laughs lowly, and with his other hand, he hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties. “C’mon, little blackbird,” he says, and you writhe on the bed underneath him as he runs a thumb over your core, pressing into the wetness there. “Sure you can.”
When he sinks to his knees and buries his face between your legs, you thank the stars you didn’t let him leave without getting a taste of this, of him.
…..
After, the two of you lay spent in your bed. You’re tracing lines on his bare skin, both still naked. There are marks all over your bodies- hickies and fingerprints and bite marks. You’ll be feeling him inside of you for days, you’re sure. You run your finger under the words on his chest. Of Love And Life.
You know the song, so you start to whistle it. His laughter rumbles under your ear, deep in his chest, and then he starts to sing along with your whistling. It’s silly. If you told any of your friends about it, they’d cringe. But you feel the vibration of the words under his ribs and wish you could stay like this forever.
Eventually he stops singing, and you stop whistling. His hand sweeps up your bare back, fingers drawing shapes on your spine.
“Your cabin is cute,” he says.
You pick your head up and rest your chin on your hand that lays flat on his chest. “Thanks.”
He nods towards the poster on the wall. Yosemite is written in big letters, and you sigh.
“Offer’s still open,” he says, quietly. “No pressure. But.”
You let your eyes fall closed. “Danny.”
He cranes his neck up to press a kiss to your cheek. “I know. Sorry. I just don’t want to say goodbye yet.”
“We won’t say goodbye then. We’ll say see you later,” you suggest. It’s cheesy, but it feels right. “And you can stay the night, if you want.”
You expect him to say no. You’re sure his friends are going to panic when they realize he’s not in the room. But he just nods and pulls you close, and you rest your head on his chest again, and soon enough, you’re falling asleep, just like that.
You wake up the next morning before the sun is even up. The alarm on his phone is going off, and he’s doing a very bad job of muffling his swearing as scrambles out of bed to search for it. You tug the blankets over your head and groan until he shuts the noise off. You hear his footsteps, heading back to the bed. He tugs the blanket down so he can see your eyes and leans close.
“I gotta go, baby,” he says, quietly. It’s like it pains him.
“Yeah, I know,” you say, feeling like it pains you just as much.
He kisses your forehead and pulls the blanket down farther. He sits down on the edge of your bed and plants on hand right next to your head. You turn your face, press your lips to the inside of his wrist. Then you wrap your hand around his bicep and sigh.
“Thank you,” he says. “I had an amazing time this week. Wouldn’t have been the same without you.”
You laugh and squeeze his arm. “You just liked the s’mores.”
“No, I-“
“I know. Me too. Thank you,” you say.
He kisses your lips one more time. You press your hand to his cheek and try to burn this into your brain. Then he kisses your forehead again and stands up with a long stretch.
“See you later, mirlo,” he says, sounding more unsure than you’ve ever heard him.
“See you later,” you echo.
You watch him leave. Watch him walk to the door, watch the slope of his shoulders under his sweatshirt. Something awful twists in your chest.
“Hey, Danny, do me a favor?” You call out. He turns, brows raised.. “Try not to forget me, yeah?”
The corner of his lips tugs up into a half smile. “I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”
You close your eyes so you don’t have to watch him leave. You hear the latch of the door and bury your face in your pillow, resisting the urge to scream. You’d have at least three of your coworkers at the door if you did. The last thing you need is to alert anyone of Danny’s presence in your cabin, though they probably already know. You don’t want to give them any sort of confirmation, though. You roll over in bed and open your eyes, and you’re met with bright blue fabric, folded neatly on top of the other pillow. Danny’s t-shirt, left behind. Deliberately, it seems, from the way it’s folded. It’s some souvenir shirt from a ski chalet you’ve never heard of. He’d been wearing it the night before- you took it off of him. He left it on purpose for you to find. For you to have. In your moment of weakness, you grab it and press it to your nose and breathe in. That’s when you realize you’re absolutely never getting over him.
And then, you think. He left his shirt. He wanted you to have something to remember him by. In all of this, maybe you’re not the only one afraid of being forgotten. He’s larger than life, he’s a damn celebrity, but he’s leaving a little piece of him behind so you have a reminder. Like he knows you’ll put the shirt in your drawer and feel that feeling in your chest every time you reach for a different one. The bright blue is permanently burned into your brain.
Feeling especially self pitying, you reach for your phone, knowing that your camera roll from the past week is filled with pictures of him. May as well wallow in it, right?
…..
Danny throws the last bag into the trunk of the car and sighs. Blake slaps his shoulder, heavy handed, so hard it almost hurts. Maybe he needs that.
He’s been looking all over for you. He’d thought maybe you’d come to see them off, or that he’d at least see you once more before he left. But you’re not on the back porch reading, and you’re not in the restaurant, and you’re not in the employee break room, either. He thinks about going to your cabin and then realizes that would be crazy, and probably a little creepy. You’ve already said goodbye- or see you later, but still.
Someone starts the car. He drags a hand down his face. “I need coffee,” he says, and Blake nods.
Danny jerks his thumb towards the lodge and then walks in to grab a cup to go. He’s only delaying the inevitable, really. If you were going to show up to say goodbye, you’d already be there. He should just be happy with what he’s had. Happy that you let him in the way you did. He should’ve known it would only leave him wanting more, but it’s a bit late for that now.
He walks back outside, cup of coffee in hand, a frown on his face. His friends are packing the last bags and climbing into the car, and Blake is-
He nearly trips over his own feet, nearly spills his coffee down his chest. Because Blake is talking to you. You’re standing there, a book in one hand, his blue t-shirt in the other. His gut twists. Blake sees Danny and backs away to give the two of you space. Danny’s heart is racing as he walks up to you.
You hold the shirt out to him. “You left this.”
He left it on purpose, and he thought that was pretty obvious. Maybe that was unfair. Maybe it was selfish of his to want to leave a reminder of himself for you. He frowns and reaches for the shirt, tries to take it from your hand. You don’t let go when he pulls on it, and he looks at you in confusion.
“You left it on purpose,” you say, quietly.
He nods and swallows. “I didn’t want you to forget me, either.”
You nod back. You’re staring up at him, this knowing look in your eyes that has him frozen right in place. His heart skips a beat in his chest. You tilt your head towards the trunk of the car- there’s another bag sitting there, on top of all the rest of them.
“Blake says that seat’s still open,” you say, and he holds his breath. “And Will texted me this morning and said they’ve covered all my shifts for the week, for some reason.” He shrinks under your gaze, knowing that’s probably because he mentioned the Yosemite trip, and his inviting you, to Will. “So.”
“So,” he echoes, a little bit scared to believe that what he thinks is happening actually is.
You shrug and shoot him a bright, sunny smile. “I’ve always wanted to see Yosemite. And you need a s’mores girl. Still want me to come along?”
When he sweeps you into a big, dramatic kiss, right there on the front lawn of the lodge, you don’t complain. You just wrap your arms around him and kiss him back. In the trees above your heads, a blackbird sings.
for posterity’s sake please let it be known that i mostly finished this on January 31st, 2024, and then woke up to the news that Lewis Hamilton is going to ferrari in 2025. I feel like that is an important detail to be known. I decided to post it anyways. Thanks for reading the longest fic i have ever written i hope you enjoyed 💛
taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully
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steddiealltheway · 10 months
Text
By some twist in fate, Eddie and Nancy become friends.
It starts when Eddie sees her at The Hideout standing out very much in the sea of dark clothes wearing a lavender sweater and jeans. Eddie tells his band mates he’ll be right back when he rushes off to Nancy, noticing how people are starting to stare at her a bit.
“Nance?” Eddie asks, hands in the pockets of his black jeans trying not to make it obvious that he’s fidgety. He knows that she can defend herself, but it looks like some of the guys in the bar are going to test it, and he hopes his presence will make them back off a bit.
Nancy turns and her eyebrows furrow before she gives him a tight smile. “Eddie? What are you doing here?”
“Just finished up a gig. What are you doing here?” Eddie asks.
Nancy looks around and loudly says, “I was just here to see you play. I can’t believe I missed it.” She throws her arms around Eddie and whispers in his ear, “I’m looking into something.”
As she pulls away, Eddie smiles and puts his arm around her. “How about we talk outside?”
Nancy nods and walks toward the exit. Eddie turns and waves Gareth off as he stares at him with his jaw dropped.
As soon as they’re outside, Nancy lets out a deep breath and Eddie rushes off to his van, not trusting the few people outside staring. He opens the passenger door for Nancy and goes quickly to the driver side. When the door closes, Nancy immediately says, “I know this probably sounds crazy, but I think there’s a dog fighting ring below The Hideout.”
Eddie sits back and takes in the information. He shrugs. “Okay. I can believe that.”
Nancy rambles on, “And I know there’s not great evidence and it’s a shot in the dark but-” She stops and looks at Eddie. “You believe me?”
“Yeah. You’re one of the smartest people I know, and the Creel stuff checked out, so why wouldn’t I believe you?”
“I gave you no evidence,” Nancy says as if she’s trying to talk herself out of her own theory.
Eddie shrugs again. “Then, give it to me.”
And she does. Telling him about a dog she saw chained in the backyard of someone’s house with marks consistent with an attack. How the only time the owner brings the dog inside is when he leaves his garage to drive to The Hideout, although he usually parks in the driveway which means he probably doesn't want people to see him putting the dog in his car. How he parks at the back of the bar in a fenced-off section that only a few other cars can go in. How she’s seen dogs in the other cars and even barking in the back that fades almost as if the noise starts traveling down. But this is the first time she’s gone inside.
“Well, that all sounds pretty damning, but you’re going to have to stop your investigation style.”
Nancy crosses her arms. “What does that mean?”
“I mean, you stick out like a reporter, and your notebook was sticking out of your pocket in there. No one is going to talk to you, and if they think something is up, then you risk them relocating. So, I suggest we give you a metal makeover and you let me drive you here in my van because your shiny little car is just as suspicious.”
Nancy looks a bit pissed as she states, “I don’t need your help or protection.”
Eddie smiles. “I know you don’t, but I would be a great undercover buddy and excuse for your presence at The Hideout.”
Nancy narrows her eyes at him. “Why are you helping me?”
“One, you saved my life. Two, this sounds like an adventure,” Eddie says throwing his arms out with glee.
Nancy tries to suppress a smile before she sighs, “Fine, but if you blow the case…”
“I’m dead, and I never go on anymore adventures with you. Got it.” Eddie holds out his hand with a wide smile, and Nancy takes it, shaking it one time.
It feels like the start of a wonderful friendship.
-:-:-:-:-:-
“Wow,” Eddie says staring in awe at his work.
“I feel ridiculous, Eddie,” Nancy says, dark eyeliner smudged around her eyes, chains dangling over her tight black pants, and one of Eddie’s band t-shirts tucked into them.
“Well, you look absolutely metal,” Eddie says with a bright smile.
Nancy rolls her eyes but smiles.
Eddie thinks for a second before announcing, “We should stop by Family Video to show off your new look.”
Nancy scoffs.
“I always stop by on Wednesday! Please,” Eddie practically begs. He can’t wait to see the look on Steve’s face when he sees her. He wonders if Robin will be there too.
Nancy gets a little investigative twinkle in her eye. “You stop by every Wednesday, huh?”
Eddie eyes her. There’s no way she knows about his crush or the fact that he stops by every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and sometimes Saturday and Sunday depending on if Steve's working the weekend shift. He tries to brush it off. “Yes, so I must stop by today. Right now actually, so you’re coming with, Wheeler. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
Nancy narrows her eyes at him.
“Alright, we’re doing this the easy way. Got it,” Eddie says, voice cracking a bit with fear that only Nancy can evoke. Luckily, she follows him to his van and gets in willingly.
A quick trip over and a surprisingly pleasant conversation later, and Eddie is dramatically entering Family Video. His heart skips a beat when he spots Steve at the counter looking at him, and he nearly forgets the reason for his dramatics. Then, Nancy clears her throat, still hiding behind him, and Eddie makes eye contact with Robin who is raising her eyebrows expectantly.
Luckily, the store is empty when he dramatically announces, “Lady and gentleman, I present to you-”
“Ruth,” Nancy whispers behind him.
Eddie moves to the side and dramatically presents, “Ruth!”
Robin looks like she’s about to die on the spot, and Steve well… he looks a bit shocked.
Eddie hooks his arm around Nancy and walks her up to the counter. “What do you think Steve?" His heart tugs a bit as he notices the way Steve doesn't look at Nancy but instead focuses in on Eddie's arm draped around her shoulders. His jaw flexes and his nostrils flare as he looks at Eddie and nods. "She looks great like a female version of you." He tries to smile at him, but it comes off forced and almost scary.
Eddie's arm guiltily slides off Nancy and a blush settles over his cheeks. He feels weirdly embarrassed as he passes Nancy off to Robin who stutters while complimenting her.
Eddie takes the break to look at Steve who stares at a stack of tapes, fiddling with them as if to make it perfectly stacked. "Didn't realize you two were so close."
"We're working undercover on a case," Eddie says with a big smile, feeling almost giddy with excitement.
Nancy laughs, overhearing him. "We're investigating something," she corrects, but adds on, "An adventure." Her eyes light up and her eyebrows raise, and Eddie feels an intense platonic love for the woman.
He glances back at Steve who continues staring at his tapes. "Sounds fun," he says flatly.
Eddie feels another shoot of pain in his heart, almost stricken by guilt. He and Steve have been talking and relatively close for the past few weeks, but suddenly he gets weird when he becomes friends with Nancy?
It strikes Eddie suddenly. He's jealous.
Of course Steve would be jealous of Eddie parading around with his ex-girlfriend! It makes so much sense. He probably thinks he's corrupting her or something.
When Robin asks Nancy more about her investigation, Eddie can't help but lean over the counter and mumble, "You know that there's nothing happening between me and Nancy, right? She doesn't like me like that at all. Trust me. Don't have to worry about her being taken or whatever especially by me," Eddie rambles out, laughing at the end to add to how ridiculous the thought even is.
Steve looks at him confused. "That's not- that isn't..." He shakes his head and goes back to his stack. "I don't have feelings for Nance."
Eddie almost scoffs at that because hello. All signs point to jealousy. "So, you're not jealous?"
"No of you," Steve mutters still fidgeting with the tapes.
Eddie nods. Maybe he's just having a bad day or something. "Great, glad we cleared that up. But uh- are you okay?"
Steve nods and gives him that same tight smile. "Yup."
Yeah, he's definitely not fine, but he's not gonna push it. He glances over at Nancy to ask if she's ready to go, but then he sees the way she's leaning over the counter toward Robin, chatting animatedly about her evidence while Robin listens with heart eyes, practically drooling as she asks Nancy more questions. And what's even more interesting is the way Nancy gets flustered as Robin asks questions she hadn't thought of before and a blush slowly appears on Nancy's cheeks.
Eddie watches in awe as the two form more theories with their ideas bouncing off of each other as they slowly lean closer and closer until Nancy's arms are pressing against Robin's. Eddie softly smiles. If Nancy can tease him about his crush, he's going to certainly tease her about hers.
"Watch it there. You might start drooling if you stare too hard," Steve mutters to Eddie, hurt evident in his tone.
"Why would I be drooling?"
Steve rolls his eyes and loudly announces, "I'm going on my break." The two girls jump apart as he storms off to the back and slams the door behind him. Christ. What has him in such a bad mood?
"Damn, what did you say to him?" Robin asks with her arms crossed.
Eddie raises his hands. "I have no idea."
Nancy raises her eyebrows. "Oh, I have an idea, but come on. I think that was our cue to leave." She turns back to Robin and very regretfully says goodbye before Eddie follows her outside.
"Really, I have no idea-"
"He's jealous, Eddie," Nancy states with a small smile.
Eddie fidgets and says, "Well, he told me he wasn't after I explained you don't have feelings for me."
Nancy laughs, and Eddie stares at her. "What am I missing?"
"He's not jealous of you! He's jealous of me. He likes you, Eddie, and don't tell me I'm wrong because I know what he's like when he likes someone."
Eddie stops to think about the way Steve had hardly paid attention to Nancy and gave all his attitude to Eddie. But that can't be true, and he knows he can't say that to Nancy, so instead he stirs the pot. "And you like Robin, and she likes you back!"
Nancy's jaw drops and she splutters, "She doesn't- I don't- She... That is not what we're discussing right now!"
"Here's what I think," Eddie says, ignoring Nancy's attempt at changing the topic, "I think that you should go to The Hideout with Robin because you two clearly work well together, and she's a better investigator than I am. Plus, you two have the experience after the whole library and asylum thing."
Nancy takes a second to consider it and asks, "But what about you? I know you wanted the adventure."
Eddie's stomach flips a bit at how caring Nancy Wheeler is. "I think I've had enough adventure in the Upside Down to last a lifetime. Plus, I have a weak stomach, and I might throw up if I saw a dog fighting ring."
Nancy smiles and huffs a laugh. She looks down at her feet a moment before looking at Eddie with a determined look that scares him. "If I go with Robin, you'll take her work vest and cover the rest of her shift. Plus, I get your van so we have a ride."
"Deal," Eddie says handing her his keys without thinking.
"Have fun with Steve," Nancy says with a big smile running back into Family Video.
Shit, he had forgotten about that part.
Eddie races inside, but it's too late, Nancy is already talking to Robin about the plan. She hands over her vest to Eddie and squeals, "Tell Steve I'm not sorry at all."
The bell on the door rings as they both race out. Eddie sighs and makes his way to the back, hoping that Steve won't entirely lose his shit at the news.
He knocks on the door and gets a, "Leave me alone, Robin," in response.
"It's Eddie. Robin left with Nancy," Eddie says loudly through the door.
It quickly opens with Steve looking a bit frantic and confused. "She what?"
"She left to investigate with Nancy. I'm covering the rest of the shift."
Steve stares at him for a few seconds and sighs running a hand over his face. "I didn't mean to make you lose your chances with Nance. That was a dick move, man. I can cover the rest of the shift on my own, and you can go with them."
Eddie crosses his arms. "I told you she doesn't have feelings for me."
"Yeah, but you have feelings for her clearly. You couldn't take your eyes off of her after that whole makeover of yours. Turned her into your perfect girl or whatever," Steve says angrily, and Eddie sees that same jealousy returning.
"Why are you getting so jealous?" Eddie asks outright, refusing to fully rely on Nancy's explanation.
Steve runs a hand through his hair and rests it on his hip. He looks at Eddie for a few seconds, eyes wandering all over his face before blurting out, "Because I like you! Okay! And I thought maybe you did too because of how often you come in and talk to me, but clearly, I was wrong." He brushes past Eddie and goes back to that damn stack of tapes, fidgeting with them again.
Eddie takes a deep breath and says, "Steve?"
Steve tenses up, and Eddie continues, "You realize that I don't have feelings for Nancy because I have this huge overwhelming crush on you that I never thought would go anywhere, right?"
Steve turns around quickly. "Huh?"
Eddie slowly walks up to him. "Nancy tried to tell me that you were jealous of her, and I thought it wasn't possible. That there was no way that you could like me like that. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm dreaming right now."
"Me too," Steve says with his eyes wide.
Eddie stops in front of him and cautiously smiles. "So, what now?"
Steve smiles back. "You know, I once heard that if you want to wake up from a dream, you just grab someone in the dream and kiss them."
"Really?"
"No," Steve says stepping closer. "But I think it's worth a try."
"Me too," Eddie replies as he leans in and does what he's been dreaming of doing for weeks now. Steve's lips are soft and warm and Eddie feels like he could get lost in the way they move against his.
Sadly, Steve breaks the kiss and says, "Huh, not dreaming, which also means that I need to temporarily put the closed sign on the door."
Eddie's eyebrows furrow, still confused as to why the kiss ended early. "Why?"
Steve jumps over the counter and flips the sign. "So we can properly kiss in the back without the fear of people coming in. I'm still on my break, you know, and I know exactly how I want to spend every minute of it," Steve says all matter-of-fact as he makes his way back to Eddie and tugs him into the breakroom.
God bless, Nancy Wheeler.
(Oh, and Nancy's investigation pans out exactly as she expected. She busts the ring pretty fast, and in her article, she thanks ((her, now, girlfriend)) Robin and even Eddie for their help. And trust me, the fruity four go on plenty of adventures together. Plus, Eddie and Nancy are very willing to give their partners their platonic soulmate time, so they can also hang out.)
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boldlyvoid · 4 months
Text
Dear Santa
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Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader
Summary: Jack's wishlist this year only consists of one thing. He wants Y/N to be his step-mom.
A/N: Continuation of Waiting Rooms, set a year later
Warnings: slight angst trying to get Jack to share what he wants for Christmas, Haley and reader are friends, getting engaged
Word Count: 2.8K
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Rosie is about to turn 1. 
JJ and Will are having a big birthday bash at their place, 2 weeks before her actual birthday because being a Christmas baby is hard. Gift-giving becomes a chore, they feel overlooked as they get older, and holiday fatigue makes people not really want to add another thing to their plate. But the BAU loved any excuse to party and to spoil their godchildren— even if it wasn’t on paper like Aaron was, every single member on the team loved JJ’s children as if they were their own. 
 And Aaron’s girlfriend is invited to the party, too. 
Everyone knows her, she’s been around a lot and Aaron loves her dearly. Even Haley likes her, invited her to the wedding back in September and everything, which came in handy when they had to take Jack home for the night to give the happy couple some alone time. Aaron had him for 2 weeks during the honeymoon, and while he was at work, Y/N basically moved into his place to take care of Jack in his absence, which Haley was only okay with because Y/N had a degree in education and was trusted with 20 plus kids every day for years. They got on well, Jack loved talking to her and playing with her, he asked to call her at night when he had weekends with Aaron and she wasn’t over… and then she moved in. Jack was over the moon. 
It’s been a month now, playing family is so much easier when Y/N doesn’t have to leave ever. His house is her house and his son is her favourite little guy in the world… but he’s acting different. 
There are 2 weeks until Christmas and even Haley can’t get him to make a wish list. Well, he’s made one. He’s sent it to Santa, but he wouldn’t let her see it. So, you know, she can’t buy him anything in the name of Santa. It’s stressing them out, they have no idea why he’s being so secretive this year. 
They pick him up from Haley’s for the birthday party, he loves any excuse to spend time with Henry and Haley begs Aaron to try and get him to talk. To anyone. Someone on the team has to be able to crack what’s going on and get him to share what he wants. In exact specifics because if he doesn’t get what he wants on Christmas morning, there’s going to be hell to pay. 
He runs off to see Henry the second they’re inside, Aaron and Y/N put the gifts in the pile and head into the kitchen to give hugs and handshakes to all their friends. Y/N hugs Penelope and JJ and she takes little Rosie into her arms for a hug and kisses the side of her head, making Aaron swoon. “I can’t believe you’re so big!” She teases, brushing her nose against Rosie’s hair. 
“I know,” JJ sighs, shaking her head. “I wish I could keep them this tiny forever…” 
“Me too,” Aaron agrees. Looking off into the other room where the kids are all playing and making noise. “Things are easier when they’re 1.” 
“I don’t know,” Will shrugs. “I think 4 is treating Henry well.” 
“Has he told you what he wants for Christmas?” Y/N asks right away. 
They both nod, “why?” JJ asks. 
“Jack won’t tell us,” Aaron complains. “He made his letter, didn’t let me or Haley look and then mailed it away when he met Santa at the mall… we have no idea what he wants and he won’t tell us.” 
“Well, last year his Christmas was a lot to take,” Derek reminds them. “His mom getting engaged so soon after your divorce is going to stick out to him… his whole world changed last Christmas.” 
“Do you think maybe he asked Santa to bring you two together again?” Penelope asks, hesitant but onto something.
Aaron shakes his head, “no, he loves Scott. Talks very highly about him and their time together on weekdays.” 
“Hm,” Emily hums. “You want one of us to talk to him?” 
“I’m not sure,” Aaron’s honest. “Maybe Spencer, or Y/N even… I don’t want him to think he’s in trouble for not talking to us about his Wishlist.”
“I’ll do it,” Y/N volunteers, handing Rosie over to Aaron so he can have a snuggle with his god-daughter. “I’ll ask Henry too, just to cover my bases. Get them talking, see what’s up.” 
“Thank you,” Aaron leans in and presses a kiss to her lips while Rosie clings to him. 
They watch her leave and as soon as the coast is clear everyone's vibe switches. “So…” Derek is the first to tease him.
“When are you going to have another one?” Emily continues. 
Aaron shakes his head with a blush. Rosie is snuggled into his chest, head on his shoulder, he leans his cheek against her head and holds her close. She’s always loved him, she finds him calming and it’s probably because he’s so stern and has his emotions under control… also because he’s family. He was the 4th person to hold her in her entire life and he loved her because he loved her mother so much. 
“When she asks,” he’s honest.
“Oooo,” JJ teases with a smirk. “I’m surprised she hasn’t asked with how often she sees you with babies now.” 
“I know,” he sighs. “I think she wants to be married before she has kids. She’s traditional, I can’t blame her…” 
“So when are you going to ask?” Penelope asks, desperate to know. 
He shrugs, “We haven’t talked about it. It’s only been a year, we just moved in together, and we’d have to plan it all around her teaching schedule. There’s a lot to consider. I want to make sure she’s okay with my schedule, the long hours and the not being around— I mean, she’s good with Jack, she spends time with him when we get called out and she hasn’t said she has a problem with it but—
“but it’s happened to you once before,” JJ understands. 
He nods, “I love her too much to lose her too.” 
They all understand that. 
“She’s had time to run,” Emily adds. “If she didn’t like your job or the hours or missing you as much as I’m sure she does— she would’ve left already. She’s not the kind of woman to push her feelings down and just coast. She says what she feels and gets what she wants and what she wants is you and the life you’re building and the family you’ve welcomed her into.” 
His heart swells, “I hope so.” 
She plays with them for a bit, driving cars around a town printed on a carpet and making all the automobile noises with a smile. She loved this little boy so much, he was the best thing to come into her life since his dad. 
“Did you guys ask for more cars for Christmas?” She pries. 
Henry nods, but jack doesn’t say anything. He keeps driving, avoiding the question. 
“What else did you ask for Henry?” 
“a—
“Don’t tell her!” Jack cuts him off. “If you say it out loud it doesn’t come true.” 
“What?” She asks, almost laughing but she holds back. “Who told you that?” 
“No one…” he shakes his head, looking like he’s thinking hard.
“Then why do you think it works like that?”
“It’s like birthday wishes,” he explains. 
“What did you wish for on your birthday last year?” She asks, trying to figure out if he got it or not, to see if that’s why he thinks this. 
“The Spider-Man Hot Wheels track,” he explains. 
“And did you tell anyone?” She asks, he shakes his head. “And you got it?” 
“I did…” 
“What about Christmas last year? Did you tell anyone what you wanted?” 
“I made a list but… what I wanted most I told Santa and then it happened,” he whispers. “For mommy to get married to Scott.” 
“Oh,” her heart swells. “Oh, Jack. You know, that’s just because you told Santa and he can make things come true, but sometimes Santa can’t get all your gifts and he’ll reach out to your mommy and daddy and say hey, the 3rd thing on Jack's list I couldn’t make at my factory so you can get that for him. But Santa can’t talk to your mom or dad about presents unless you do too… he can’t tell your secrets.” 
“Oh,” he thinks hard about it. “I didn’t think about that.” 
“Yeah, when I was little we didn’t have a chimney so my dad actually had to wait up for Santa and let him into the house,” she explains the old lie her parents used to tell her. “They became good friends and Santa was always so happy to hear they got me the things he couldn’t make.” 
“I only put one thing on my list,” he frowns, scared now that he won’t get anything if it doesn’t come true. 
He starts to cry and she pulls him right into her lap, cradling him, “Oh, buddy it's okay. We can make a second list, explain everything to Santa and send it tonight, he’ll get it in time.” 
“You think?” He asks, looking up at her with those big hotchner brown eyes. 
She nods, “Come on, let’s go ask Aunty JJ if she has some paper.” 
They get up off the carpet and she carries him into the kitchen again, they get paper and a pencil and they sit down at the kitchen table together with Aaron standing over his shoulder. He puts down a couple things he’s seen on commercials between TV shows and things he’s seen in the store with his mom and she looks up at Aaron who smiles. He can get these things, there’s still lots of time to make sure his Christmas is good. 
But she wanted to know what his big present was… she needed to tell Aaron everything and they needed to work it out. They can’t ruin the magic of Christmas for him because this year his big wish doesn’t come true.
At home that night, they sit in bed and she tells him everything and his heart breaks a bit. “He has 1 wish and we have no idea what it is.” 
“I know,” she leans back against the pillows, just as panicked as he is. “Is there any way you can contact the mall and find out what Santa was working on that day and maybe, just maybe he remembers what Jack said?” 
“I can try… but I might just have Haley and Scott sit him down and have him watch Here Comes Santa Clause, make sure he has the real story and knows that it’s not like a birthday wish. Saying it doesn’t stop it from coming true,” Aaron explains. “I need him to have a good Christmas with us this year.” 
“He will,” she assures, cuddling into his side. She places her hand on his chest and he wraps his arm around her so she can get closer. “We all will.”
Aaron goes off on another case just before Christmas, Y/N spends the night before Jack’s arrival for his week at their house, wrapping presents. They’ve managed to get him everything he asked for. They split the list in half, Haley got him a bunch, they got him the rest and then they all threw in some practice things from themselves. 
Haley had dropped off her Santa gifts early, they’re hidden up in the attic so he can’t find them before Christmas morning. He’s going to be one spoiled boy… 
Aarons is still not back when Jack gets there. He’s so close to finishing the case, he should be home in a day. Till then, she’s more than happy to spend some one-on-one time with Jack. 
He runs upstairs to his room to put his bag away and Y/N gets a few minutes alone with Haley, “has he said anything?” 
She smirks, nodding, “he did…” 
She lights right up, “what? Can we get it in time?” 
“He wants you to be his step-mommy,” Haley whispers, stepping into her space and rubbing her arm. “So unless you want Aaron to be the one to propose, you should get a ring.” 
She’s in a state of shock for a while, Jack goes to bed after dinner and she just sits in the living room with her drink and the TV on low and she stares off. She has no idea what to do. Does she tell Aaron? Do they talk about it? Should they get rings together and make a plan? She could just get a ring and ask him? But does she get a ring for herself or for him? Would he even want a ring or would he maybe like a watch?” 
There’s a million things buzzing around her head and then the lock clicks over. The door opens and Aaron’s briefcase hits the floor before it closes. 
“Hey,” he smiles as he sees her. “You’re still up?” 
“What time is it?” She asks, having genuinely no idea. 
“Close to midnight… are you okay?” 
“Hm? Oh yeah,” she shakes her thoughts away and gets up to give him his big home-coming hug. 
She wraps herself around him, breathes him in and settles against his body. His big hands on her back, the warmth of his chest, the feeling of his lips on her forehead… it all feels like home. He’s her home. 
“I love you,” she whispers against his chest. 
He cups her face and pulls her attention up to his eyes. “I love you, sweetheart.” 
“Haley cracked the code,” she breaks down, it all falls out as she looks at him. He’s so soft, he’s so good to her… she wants to spend the rest of her life with him. “Jack wants us to get married too. He wants a stepmom and a stepdad. He wants two complete families at both his houses and I don’t blame him.” 
Aaron’s face lights right up, “he said that? Really?” 
She nods, “Last year he got a stepdad, this year he wants me to join the family…” 
“Do you want to?” He asks, making sure they’re on the same page. 
She nods, letting it all out, “I love you so much Aaron, there is nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you and that beautiful boy upstairs.” 
“What kind of ring do you want?” 
When Christmas morning rolled around, Jack was surprised to see the mountain of presents under the tree. They let him go crazy, opening everything with his name on the tag while Aaron picked up the wrapping paper and put it in a plastic garbage bag. 
Y/N sat back, enjoying the show and taking photos to share with Haley later. 
Everything he wanted is there in front of him, already assembled and batteries put in them. He gets an apple and some candy in his stalking as well as a toothbrush that has the spider-man theme song built in for 2 minutes of optimal brushing. He gets some fun bath soaps and new crayons and a bunch of socks and underwear. It’s a perfect Christmas. 
But there is still 1 more gift. 
“Hey Jack, what’s that?” Aaron points to the tree. A small, little box is wrapped up and placed on a branch. “Did you miss one?” 
He wanders up to the tree and takes the box in his hands. “There’s no name?” 
“Huh,” Y/N pretends to be shocked. “You can open it, maybe you can figure out who it’s for?” 
He carefully peels the wrapping off and notices it's a velvet box. He opens it up like a book and then gasps when he notices it’s a ring. “Dad?” 
“That’s not for me,” he smiles. “Santa must've known I wanted to ask her... can you help me?” 
His face lights right up and he brings it over to Y/N. She hadn’t seen the ring yet, it was a surprise but in the style she explained. He sits down next to her and watches her take it out of the box. “Is this for me?” 
“Will you marry my dad?” he asks, eyes gleaming with the reflection of the Christmas tree lights. 
She tears up, she knew this would be emotional but hearing him say that… makes her heart grow 10 times its size. She nods, “Of course I will, I love him so much.” 
Aaron joins them, kneeling in front of her. He takes the ring from her hand, “I love you,” he reminds her as he slips it onto her ring finger. “I always will.” 
She pulls him up for a kiss and holds him close and Jack takes the initiative to join, getting between them, he snuggles in close. Happier than ever that his Christmas wish came true for a second year in a row. 
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thenerdykneazle · 5 months
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Amorous Tension
Summary: Poppy is quite sure her best friend has feelings for our favourite heir of Slytherin. MC is quite sure she doesn't, despite abundant evidence to the contrary. When Ominis asks MC to help him study for an upcoming potions exam, she jumps at the chance. TL;DR: Two idiots in love brew amortentia together.
A collab with the lovely @darch7995, who created the audio version of this story. Listen to the first part here and the second here.
Ominis Gaunt x F!MC
Warnings: the mildest of hand kinks, kissing, a surprising amount of schoolwork, stressing about exams, failure to communicate
Word count: 4185
You tapped your quill anxiously on the edge of your parchment, forming an ever-growing blot of ink in the margin. You were re-reading a paragraph in Flesh-Eating Trees of the World on a South American anteater-eating shrub. The words made as little of an impression in your mind as they had the first time.
A hand settled on top of yours, startling you.
“You’re going to put a hole in the table if you keep that up. And I doubt Madam Scribner would be pleased,” Poppy said teasingly.
You sighed, setting down the quill before dropping your head onto the table. “I’m going to fail. I know nothing. Less than nothing, even. Garlick is going to laugh me out of the greenhouse,” you said hopelessly.
Poppy rubbed your back comfortingly. “No, she’s not,” she assured you.
You let out a frustrated groan. “I’m never learning the difference between Jacaranda muscipula and Delonix geogalinivorae. They’re both just bloodthirsty ferns.”
A smooth voice came from behind you. “Jacaranda muscipula is native to South America, and its diet consists largely of deer mice. Delonix geogalinivorae is found in Madagascar and feeds exclusively on tenrecs.”
Your head shot up off the table. “Ominis,” you said in a higher pitch than you’d intended. You twisted in your chair to see your aristocratic classmate standing there looking effortlessly flawless.
“Hello, MC, Poppy,” he said with a pleasant smile. “I take it you’re dreading Garlick’s exam as much as Sebastian is.”
You scrunched your nose. “More, probably,” you said dismally.
“Well, I had come to see if you might be able to help me study for Sharp’s exam on Monday,” he said. “I could help you with herbology after. Of course, I’d be happy to help even if you don’t have time for potions practice.”
You gaped at him. He was asking you for help? Amit and Sebastian both had top grades in potions. You’d taken to it quite well, but the two boys had several more years of experience than you did. Garreth knew every ingredient and recipe inside and out, though he almost never stuck to the instructions – you could see why Ominis wouldn’t have asked him for help.
Your stomach leapt at the idea of spending time at the bench – just you and Ominis, brushing elbows at the cosy workspace. It was always dizzying being in such close proximity – the effect of his expensive cologne, surely.
Poppy would probably argue differently. She’d just been pestering you just that morning about your alleged feelings for the sarcastic Slytherin.
“You’re the biggest flirt I’ve ever met, MC,” Poppy said, rolling her eyes as you walked to the Great Hall.
Garreth had just been talking to you out in the courtyard about needing to acquire Thornback Matriarch venom for a new potion he was working on. You had told him he’d probably be better equipped than you were at charming the ladies into giving him what he wanted.
“I think you’re jealous and just need to ask the Gryffindor out, already,” you argued, shooting her a quelling look. “I was just being funny.”
“Mhmm,” she replied sceptically. “Well, I think it’s funny how I’ve seen you flirt with Garreth, Leander, Sebastian, Amit, and even Imelda, but when a certain serpent with stormy eyes and chiselled cheekbones comes around, you turn into a frightened little puffskein. You go all ruddy-faced and start stammering.”
She was poorly suppressing a smirk as she looked at you.
You scoffed. “I do not stammer!”
“Yeah, and I don’t fancy Garreth,” she replied sarcastically. “Admit it, you’ve got a crush on Ominis.”
“That’s ridiculous,” you asserted, glaring at her.
She raised a hand to her lips to stifle a giggle. “Then why’s your face match Garreth’s luscious locks right now?”
“Oh, shut it!” you said, increasing your pace so that Poppy fell behind.
She just laughed at you. “You’re only proving my point, you know!” she called after you.
Poppy elbowed you sharply between your ribs. You’d gone far too long without replying. “Ow!” you hissed at her.
Ominis had a nervous look on his face. “Sorry?” he asked.
“Oh, no, that wasn’t at you,” you said quickly. “I mean, I’d love to study with you.”
His expression immediately brightened. “Wonderful! When are you free?” he said.
“How about now?” you suggested as you began to pack up your things.
“Oh, I don’t want to interrupt,” Ominis said.
“No, it’s fine,” you insisted. You shot Poppy a reproachful look. “I’m suddenly feeling unsafe here in the library.”
Poppy stuck her tongue out at you. “Yes, I need to go help Professor Howin feed the thestrals, anyway. You two have fun,” she said much too giddily.
You sent her one more glare as you slung your bag over your shoulder. “So, shall we use the Room of Requirement?” you asked Ominis.
“That sounds perfect!” he replied brightly.
You led Ominis out of the library and started the long climb up to the 7th floor of the astronomy tower. You were glad to stretch your legs after sitting in the library for so long.
“I don’t know how you can keep those carnivorous trees straight in your head,” you commented as you strode down a long corridor. “They look exactly the same to me when they’re not in bloom.”
“Do they?” he replied, sounding intrigued.
For a moment, you wanted to sink through the floor. Obviously, the fact that the two trees looked alike was of little consequence to him. “Sorry, I wasn’t even thinking.”
Ominis chuckled. “It’s all right,” he said, clearly amused. “It’s strange to think that they seem so similar to you. They feel quite different. The jacaranda tree has very rough bark, and the geogalinivore has waxy leaves. Plus, it has a sweet smell – sort of like oranges.”
“That’s actually very helpful. Thank you,” you said.
He smiled softly at you. You couldn’t help but notice how one of the beauty marks on his left cheek disappeared into his dimple when he smiled. “I’m glad to be of service,” he replied.
You could feel your face flush, though you had no reason to be blushing. You were relieved when you reached the 7th floor and the door to the Room of Requirement appeared. You cleared your throat. “Right, well, we’re h-here,” you said, cringing at yourself for tripping over the words.
Ominis held the door open for you as you entered the Room of Requirement. “I appreciate you helping me practice. Sharp’s class was hard enough when I knew what I’d be expected to brew. Having to prepare to make any one of four potions has been quite stressful.”
“It is a bit ridiculous,” you agreed as you started pulling ingredients out of your cabinet.
“Honestly! It’s hard enough keeping the ingredients for one potion straight – let alone for the Elixir to Induce Euphoria, Draught of Living Death, Veritaserum, and Amortentia,” he said.
“It is a lot,” you said. “Where should we start?”
“Hm…Well, I don’t think I would be very productive after testing potions for sleep or euphoria. We’d best leave those for later,” he replied. “What do you think? Amortentia or Veritaserum?”
“Amortentia’s easy enough to test. We can tell if it’s right just by how it looks and smells. Let’s start with that,” you suggested.
Ominis smirked. “You just don’t want me getting you to spill all your secrets,” he teased.
You chuckled. “You’re right; I don’t,” you agreed honestly. You weren’t exactly a secretive person ever since you didn’t have to hide your ancient magic anymore. However, the thought of not being ableto hide anything if you wanted to was terrifying.
“Amortentia it is, then!” Ominis said. “It’s the one I’m best at, anyway.”
He lit the flame to heat the cauldron before beginning to grind the moonstone with a mortar and pestle.
“So, what does Amortentia smell like to you?” he asked, chatting as he worked.
“I’m not sure,” you admitted as you leaned a hip against the bench.
“What do you mean you’re not sure? Were you holding your breath when we brewed it last week?” he teased. He cracked two ashwinder eggs into the cauldron before adding the powdered moonstone and stirring it together.
“No! I just…Well, I guess it’s that it doesn’t smell like anything to me,” you admitted.
“You must be joking. Surely you smelled something,” he replied incredulously.
“Just the usual musky dungeon,” you joked. “I thought I’d just brewed it wrong at first, but yours didn’t smell like anything to me, either.”
His brows drew together. “That is curious. I know I made mine right, because it…Well, it worked for me,” he said, his cheeks colouring a bit. “Do you just not find anyone attractive, then?” he added casually as he began cutting the thorns off of some rose stems.
“I don’t know. I mean, I used to think I did, but…now I’m not so sure,” you replied. “I don’t know what could be wrong with me to not smell anything if I did like someone.”
“I’m certain there’s nothing wrong with you, MC,” Ominis replied.
You sighed. “I hope not,” you replied before biting your bottom lip anxiously. “I thought maybe everyone was lying about smelling different things, and it’s really just an odourless potion. But I checked three different texts in the library, and they all said the same thing Professor Sharp did about the smell being unique to what each person finds attractive.”
“It’s definitely not odourless,” Ominis replied with a smirk. He shook his head as if to snap himself out of something before clearing his throat. He turned his attention back to the potion.
He added the thorns to the cauldron before beginning on the petals. You watched his hands as he plucked the petals off the stems, stacked them neatly, and rolled them together before slicing them into thin, even strips. He was quite skilled in his technique. Despite sharing a bench in potions all year, you’d never really noticed how fluidly he worked. There was an almost entrancing nature to the graceful movements.
“So, what does it smell like to you?” you inquired as you forced yourself to stop staring at the veins winding over his wrists and across the backs of his hands out to his slender fingers. You had always thought there was something nice about his hands.
“Oh, there is no way I’m admitting that,” he replied.
“But I told you when you asked,” you argued.
He rolled his eyes at you. “Nothing doesn’t count as an answer.”
“But it’s the truth! I can’t help that I didn’t smell anything,” you argued.
“I’m still not telling,” he insisted. He added the rose petals to the potion. His brow furrowed as his fingers skimmed over the fronts of several bottles. “Which is the pearl dust?”
“Third from the right,” you said before letting out a laugh as a realisation struck you.
“What?” he asked a bit defensively. “Did I grab the wrong one?” He shook the sealed bottle by his ear to listen to its contents shift within.
“No, that’s the pearl dust. I just…” You giggled again, and his scowl deepened. “I just realised that’s the last ingredient and the first thing I’ve helped you with. Seems like you barely need me here.”
He relaxed almost instantly, even laughing a bit himself. “Well, it’s much easier to brew here,” he explained. “I know which ingredients are which when they’re in my own containers – and even most of yours at this point – but almost all of Sharp’s bottles are identical. I have to figure out what’s in each one every time I pick it up. Sometimes it takes four or five tries to find what I’m looking for. It wastes so much time.”
“That sounds extremely frustrating,” you said sympathetically.
“It is,” he lamented as he added a spoonful of pearl dust to the cauldron. He stirred it clockwise three times before lowering the flame. “There! It should just need to simmer for a bit, and then we’ll see how it turned out.”
“I’m sure it’s perfect,” you said as you settled into a high-backed chair, kicking your feet up on the ottoman in front of it.
“I appreciate your confidence in me,” he said. “You know, I was even worse at potions when I was younger. I tried summoning the ingredients to myself in the early years, and it was usually a disaster. In first year, we had to brew a burn salve during our exams, and I simply could not find the dittany, even after sifting through all the ingredients on my bench three times. I gave up and summoned it, and it knocked over all the bottles in front of it on its way to me. They rolled all over the bench, and I had nearly plunged my hand straight into my cauldron trying to put them back in order. During another exam, I tried to summon flobberworm mucus, and all the bottles of the stuff came flying towards me at the same time.” He laughed. “It was all over me, my bench, the floor. Amit nearly slipped in it trying to come over and help. Professor Sharp was livid, but I think he felt too badly for me to give me detention.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, as well. “Oh, I’d have died on the spot!” you said.
“I nearly did. It was utterly horrifying,” he said. “I pretended to be sick for three days after that because I couldn’t stand the thought of facing everyone. I even had Sebastian bring me food so that I didn’t have to go out to the Great Hall. But I’ve learned to bounce back from my Blind Boy Moments quite quickly since.”
“Could Sharp not just label the ingredients for you?” you asked.
Ominis scoffed. “No, he insists that every good potions student should be able to identify the ingredients on their own,” he said, exasperated. “He wouldn’t even let me come in beforehand to label them myself because other students might see them. He also won’t let me use my own containers because it’s all got to be ‘standardised’ so it’s fair.”
“Well, that’s quite the opposite of fair! He’s putting you at a disadvantage,” you said. You could feel yourself getting angry on Ominis’s behalf.
“I am perfectly capable of identifying the ingredients. Just because I can’t see them doesn’t mean I’m incompetent,” he said bitterly.
You were taken aback as his ire turned toward you. “I wasn’t trying to imply that you are, Ominis, I swear!” you said earnestly. “It just seems unreasonable that he won’t accommodate you at all. It’s so frustrating. I have an uncle who’s blind. He wasn’t born that way – he had an accident. And he’s a Muggle. So…it’s a bit different, obviously. But he’s worked in kitchens all his life. When he first went blind, he couldn’t cook anymore. But his boss’s wife, Marjorie, was blind, too. She taught him how to navigate the kitchen again without being able to see. They made adjustments to things so he could keep working there.”
“You have a blind uncle?” he asked, seeming shocked.
“Almost all my life. He married my aunt when I was just a baby,” you explained. “He cooks even better than a house-elf, too! Don’t tell Feenky I said that, though. Or Deek, for that matter.”
“I can’t believe you have a blind uncle,” Ominis said, still stunned.
“Really?” you asked. “Why not?”
He shrugged. “I’ve never met another blind person,” he said.
“Never?” you said, surprised.
“Not once,” he confirmed. “My parents weren’t exactly looking to find me a support group. It’s exceptionally rare in the wizarding world, anyway. So, they sort of just kept me hidden away until school. They hadn’t even expected I’d get a letter even though I clearly had magic. It wasn’t until I figured out how to navigate by wand that they stopped treating me like a doll instead of a child. Even my Aunt Noctua was rather overbearing. No one ever believed I could do something myself until I showed them I could.”
“I can’t imagine how difficult it was going through all of that on your own,” you said.
Ominis gave a haughty huff. “Yes, well, I think I’ve done all right for myself,” he said firmly, crossing his arms protectively over his chest.
“You’ve done more than all right, I’d say,” you argued. “Which reminds me, you still have to tutor me in herbology after this.”
He chuckled. “Don’t worry; I haven’t forgotten,” he said.
“You’d better not have,” you said sternly. Your severe expression didn’t last, though. You couldn’t help but smile around him. “Wait, so, if you didn’t have anyone to help you figure things out, did you invent the spell that lets you read books?”
“Ah, well, I suppose I wasn’t entirely on my own. Sebastian found that spell in an old tome in the library. Some languorous 17th-century scholar grew weary of having to keep his eyes open whilst reading,” he replied. “It worked quite well in my favour.”
“If there’s one thing Sebastian excels at, it’s research,” you replied.
“Yes, and it’s been both a blessing and a curse in my life,” he said irritably.
“I feel the same,” you said wearily.
Ominis spun back toward the potions station. “It smells like the potion’s ready,” he announced.
You got up and walked over to inspect it. “Mother-of-pearl sheen. Perfect spirals of steam. Excellent work, indeed, Ominis.”
He blushed at your praise. “Any essence of musky dungeon emanating from it?” he joked.
You laughed. You leaned over the cauldron and breathed in deeply to play along. “Oh,” you said, caught off guard by the smell. “Yeah, actually. It…” You took in another breath. It was masked beneath the cologne Ominis was wearing, but you could distinctly smell the cool, earthy scent that permeated the lower levels of the castle. “It does.”
“Merlin, MC! You don’t have a crush on Professor Sharp, do you?” he asked, aghast.
“Gods, no!” you replied immediately. “It’s not the dungeons, anyway. It’s different. But…familiar.”
You tried to smell it again, but it was still too hard to tell. You hadn’t realised earlier just how strong Ominis’s cologne was that day. Usually, you found the scent rather pleasant, but, currently, it was making it extremely difficult to smell anything else. You grabbed a phial and poured some of the potion into it. “I can’t tell what it is. I need to smell it in fresh air.”
“Are you trying to tell me that I smell foul?” Ominis demanded as you walked away from him.
“No, not at all,” you said before taking another sniff of the potion. “It’s just that your–”
Your voice died in your throat as two realisations struck you simultaneously. The first was that the earthy scent you had identified was the exact smell of the Undercroft. The second was that you still smelled Ominis’s cologne just as strongly even though you were on the opposite side of the room from him. The phial slipped from your hand and shattered on the wood floor.
“Are you all right?” Ominis asked, rushing over to you in a panic. “Did the potion burn you? I heard glass break. Did you get cut?”
He took both of your hands in his to feel for any injuries. The tips of his fingers brushed gently over your skin, and it sent a shiver up your spine.
“Sorry, no, I’m fine. I just–I hadn’t realised…something,” you said. You heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Poppy had been right. You did fancy Ominis.
Ominis released one of your hands to raise his to your cheek. “Are you certain that you’re okay, MC?” he asked.
Your skin burned hot under his touch. “Y-yes, of course. I was just surprised when I placed the smell,” you said.
He tilted his head in interest. “Oh? What is it?” he asked.
You bit into your lower lip, keeping yourself silent as you wavered on whether to confess. He did seem to be rather doting at the moment. You wondered if he might return your affections.
“Perhaps I should’ve brewed the Veritaserum first, after all,” Ominis joked. “Maybe then I could finally get you to tell me what you smell.”
You laughed. “That’s not necessary. I just…Well, I’m pretty sure it’s, um…the Undercroft,” you said. Your nerves increased with every word, but you felt a flood of relief after getting them all out.
“Oh,” Ominis said uncomfortably. His whole body went rigid before his hands dropped away from you. “I…I see.”
“Ominis, I…” you started, trying and failing to figure out how to take the words back. You imagined the mortification you were experiencing was similar to how he had felt standing covered in flobberworm mucus in front of his peers.
“Well, I suppose I should still tell you what I smell, since you told me what you do,” he said sombrely. “Though, I can’t imagine it will be all that surprising.” He took a steadying breath. “It smells like old parchment, like those dusty pages Professor Weasley had you collecting last year. And I smell the mallowsweet you always carry around with you. And your shampoo. I always smell it when you hug me or fall asleep with your head on my shoulder.” He cleared his throat. “So…there you have it.”
“Are you upset about this?” you asked, bewildered by his tense reaction.
He forced a laugh. “What? No, of course not!” he insisted, but it wasn’t quite convincing. “I’m happy for you.”
“Happy for me?” you repeated, even more confused.
“Both of you, I mean,” he clarified, giving you a pained smile. “Although I’ve never asked Sebastian about his feelings toward you, with the way he flirts with you, I’m sure he reciprocates.”
“You think I fancy Sebastian?” you asked.
“Well, he’s the one who showed you the Undercroft,” he replied simply.
“Ominis, you’re the one he learned about it from. You’re the one I hang out with there. It’s rosewood and jasmine from your cologne that I smell in that bloody potion!” you said.
His brows knit together in confusion. “I thought you just smelled the Undercroft?” he said.
“Well, that’s what I thought when I was standing next to you – and in class last week,” you said. “You were right there, so I didn’t realise the smell of you was coming from the cauldron instead of…you know…you.”
His features went slack. “Oh…” he said awkwardly.
“Yeah…” you replied similarly.
“I’m a massive idiot,” he said, shaking his head at himself.
You smiled. “Yeah,” you said. “We kind of both are, aren’t we?”
“It would appear so,” he agreed. He laughed as he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Well, this has certainly been an illuminating study session.”
You melted into him instantly. “Indeed, it has.”
“You smell wonderful, you know,” he said as he nuzzled his nose against yours.
You giggled in response. “You smell quite nice, as well,” you replied.
“I taste even better,” he said cheekily.
Your gaze immediately dropped to his lips. “Is that so?” you asked, your voice coming out husky.
“I can prove it if you’d like,” he said. His breath fanned over your lips as he spoke.
“Yes, I think you should,” you replied. “For…educational purposes.”
Ominis’s lips brushed against yours almost tentatively before he leaned in to interlock them. His heat sank into your body as he held you firmly against his chest. You snaked your arms up behind his neck as you kissed him back. Being held by Ominis – and kissed by him – felt right. You wanted to stay wrapped in his arms forever. If you could’ve, you would have fused into him so you never had to be apart again.
You didn’t know how long it was before Ominis broke the kiss, but you knew it was too soon. “I still have to return the favour for you helping me with potions,” he said.
“Yes, right. The herbology,” you replied, still breathless from the kiss. You had forgotten about those bloody shrubs altogether.
“Actually, I was thinking we should work on divination, instead,” he said innocently, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips.
You arched a brow at him. “Oh?” you asked. “Are you even taking divination?”
“No. I can’t exactly read tea leaves or look in a crystal ball,” he stated. The smirk spread on his lips. “But if I could, I’d see me in your future.”
You laughed. “You’ve been spending too much time with Sebastian,” you chided. “His terrible jokes are rubbing off on you.”
“You’re absolutely right, darling!” he said with a false gravity to the words. “I’d like to fix that as soon as possible by spending more time with you, instead.”
“I’d like that,” you said, unable to stop beaming at him.
“Me, too. Especially if it involves kissing you again,” he said.
You blushed. “I think that could be arranged,” you replied.
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moonstruckme · 5 months
Note
would u maybe be willing to write remus with a reader who also has scars? not from anything in particular just more than the average joe (i personally have quite a few scars from years of sports and having acne and a skin condition, so really the cause can be anything u want) and they take care of eachother? they have a routine they do together and they put lotion and bio oil on for eachother <3
Thanks for requesting!
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 831 words
“Remus?” He looks past himself in the mirror to find you standing in the doorway to the bathroom, hair wet from the shower you’d taken before his. You’re holding your hands the way you do when you’re feeling tentative. 
He turns around and makes his voice extra soothing to assuage it. “Yeah, dovey?” 
“What do you…what are you doing, when you rub that stuff on your face?” 
He blinks, looking down at the small container in his hand. “This? It’s oil. It’s for my scars.” 
You take a hesitant step forward. Your brow wrinkles. “Like, to make them go away?” 
He smiles wistfully. “No. I don’t think anything can make them go away, honey. This just makes them less…obvious.” 
You smile, walking up to him with a bit more confidence. “Oh, good. Can I try some?” 
Remus raises his brows. “What for?” 
“I have scars,” you say, almost defensively. “They’re not as cool as yours, but I have them.” 
A little laugh escapes him. Cool. “You mean like the ones on your knees?” 
You nod, taking the oil from him and reading the bottle. “Yeah, like those.” 
“Sure, hop up here.” He pats the counter, and you follow his instructions readily, twisting around to jump up and setting your back against the mirror. You’re wearing your pajama shorts, your bare knees brushing the material of the towel around his waist. 
“This better not be an excuse to get me alone half-naked,” he says quietly as he gets his lotion back out from inside the cabinet. You go bright red at the suggestion, and Remus huffs a laugh. “I knew it.” 
“Stop,” you plead, nudging him reprimandingly with your foot. “I’ll go, if that’s what you want.” 
“Only teasing,” he reaffirms what you already know. He crouches in front of you. “It’s lucky you just showered, because that’s usually when your scars need it most. Your skin is all dried out from the water.”
“Gee, thanks,” you say sardonically, but there’s a bit of real self-consciousness to your voice. Remus strokes his thumb over your knee placatingly. 
“It’s okay. That’s why we start with lotion, to moisturize it first.” He places a dollop of the lotion onto your knee, rubbing it in with his fingers. You hum in understanding, and he does the other knee too. “And then the oil, which should make the marks a bit less angry if you use it consistently.”
“Thanks,” you say quietly as he smooths the oil into the scars on your knees. Remus looks up to find you giving him a soft, open look, and he smiles, squeezing your calf lightly. 
“Of course, honey. Any other scars that need attending to?” 
“There’s some on my hands.” You’re looking at him the way you look at the moon, with a tender sort of reverence. He suspects that you don’t actually care so much about the appearance of scars on your hands so much as you want him to keep touching you, but that’s more than alright with him. 
“Yeah?” he prompts, and you hold them out in front of him. “Mm. I’ve never noticed these before.” 
“They’re not huge,” you say with a shrug. 
Remus sets to work, massaging lotion into the skin of your hands and wrists. He takes the oil again and begins applying it to the marks he can see. “Where’d this come from?” he asks, rubbing it into a cruel line down the bottom of your palm. 
“Oh, I cut myself cutting something in the kitchen one time,” you explain, somewhat embarrassedly. 
He hums sympathetically, moving to another scar just shy of your knuckle. “What about this one?” 
“I’d forgotten that a pan I’d set in the sink was still hot.” Your voice gets softer as his fingers soothe over your hands bit by bit. “I brushed the back of my hand against it without thinking.” 
A small sound escapes him, equal parts fondness and exasperation. “And these?” He thumbs over two nearly identical white lines, one just above the other on your wrist. 
 “Burned myself on the oven rack.” You look at them sheepishly. “Twice.” 
Remus huffs a laugh, finishing with the oil and bringing your arm to his chest. “So what I’m getting from this is, you’re never going into a kitchen again.”
“Hey,” you say with a smile, “a girl’s got to eat.” 
“I’ll cook for you,” he bargains. 
“Every meal?” 
“If it means keeping you from injuring yourself, yes.” 
“I might be amenable to that,” you say, looking at him consideringly, “if…you let me put this stuff on your scars for you sometimes.” 
Remus’ lips curve slightly as he leans forward, stamping them on your forehead. “It’s a deal, lovely girl. We can do it for each other, yeah?” 
“Sounds good.” You peck his cheek in return, hopping down from the counter. “So, what’s for dinner? I was going to make myself a grilled cheese, but if you’re cooking I’m thinking more along the lines of lobster bisque.”
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costinblazetwice · 6 months
Text
Anniversary With Tzuyu (Male reader x Tzuyu) (smut)
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“It’s really good Y/N.” Your girlfriend Tzuyu says with a smile after taking a bite of the eggtart that you had picked up on your stroll in the mall.
It was your guys’s one year anniversary and you had booked a trip to Paris, France to celebrate. Since morning the two of you have been out and about enjoying the scenery of the romantic city after having spent the previous day resting up from the flight.
“Let me try.” You said as leaned forward and bit part of the piece that was hanging out of Tzuyu’s mouth causing her eyes to go wide as she looked around in embarrassment.
“Why would you do that? We’re in public you know?”
You don’t answer as you’re too busy savoring the taste of the egg tart that was once on her lips. Besides this is Paris and seeing couples acting romantically wasn’t anything new.
You two continued to spend the day enjoying each others company including spending the sunset by the Eiffel Tower. As night time came the two of you headed back to your hotel, heart thumping knowing that you two would get the chance to do what you didn’t do due to tiredness last night.
As you two arrived at the hotel Tzuyu excused herself to the bathroom as you took the chance to scroll through your phone as you hadn’t had time throughout the day. You hear the door open and as you look up you drop your mouth and your phone at the same time.
Tzuyu walks out wearing a white lingerie kimono mix which is see through showing the white bra and panties she has underneath. She has a sheepish smile on her face which shows a mixture of embarrassment and flusterdness. But you loved it.
You quickly got up from the bed and put your hands to Tzuyu’s side watching her squirm under the touch on her bare skin. You turn her around and take in every second of the beauty right in front of you.
“When’d you get this?” You ask puzzled, not recalling Tzuyu ever having this set before.
“Remember when that package came and I said it was some hoodies I brought and quickly put it in my room? It was this.”
She puts her head against your chest and continues.
“I was so embarrassed buying this, but I thought you might like it…” she lifts her head to look you in the eyes.
“Do you?”
You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Those puppy eyes she looked at you with made you want to ravage her right there.
You pick her up princess style and lay her on the bed as she lets out a slight yelp at the sudden movement. You immediately crash lips with her, going for the tongue rather than taking your time.
“So beautiful.” You breathe through the kiss as you begin to remove the garments. “But they’re in the way.”
You remove the material covering her until you’ve reached her panties which she covers with her hands to prevent you from removing them.
“Wait honey, I didn’t get to shower yet.”
You laugh at how cute she seemed but if that was the case she should’ve taken one before coming out. Maybe she just wanted to give you a sneak peek? Either way you don’t mind as the pheromones that belong to Tzuyu drive you crazy, her personal scent which consists of Diptyque Do Son perfume which smells of gardenia, her sweat, and her musk that is completely unique to her
You press your mouth against Tzuyu’s dripping cunt, letting the musky scent that belongs only to her fill your nose as you begin to flicker her clit with your tongue. Your mouth filled with the salty wetness of her excitement and her whimpers filling the air only made you want to keep going at it, enjoying the sensation of her gently tugging at your hair.
“You like that?” You whisper pulling away for a second before diving in tongue first once more.
“It’s so good Y/N.” She breathlessly moans as her back arches and her hands go from tugging at your hair to pulling on the back of your head, wanting to push you as deep as your tongue can go into her most pleasurable area. She begins to rock her hips as well and with the sticky witness from her pussy only increasing in quantity and your raging hard boner now at its peak vitality, you decide it’s time for the next part.
You lift your head up as Tzuyu lets out a groan. She begins to protest with “I was so close” but you cut her off with a kiss, letting her taste her own juices. The two of you stay in the embrace for several seconds before pulling pull away.
“I can’t wait any longer.” You state as she catches a glimpse of your cock that’s pointing straight to the air in excitement. She nods as she adjusts the pillow beneath her head and adds a second one under her lower back lifting her lower half up to give you further access, just the way she likes it.
Tzuyu doesn’t need to tell you every little thing she wants or expects. She’s a shy girl and when the two of you first had sex there wasn’t much confirmation on what was good and what wasn’t. Over time as your relationship continued to build you began to find what works for her, what gets her hips moving a particular way, her breathing to speed up, and her whimpers to begin to loosen from her mouth. It’s pretty crazy that now we’re here at our 1 year anniversary and you’re able read her mind so easily in bed when that was something you struggled with.
You align your cock with Tzuyu’s entrance, teasing her as you rub against her dripping wet cunt causing the pleasurable friction to make her moan and also make the nerve endings at the head of your penis to go into a tingling fit, feeling as though you have fluttering butterflies kept within that are now moving uncontrollably.
“Stop teasing…” Tzuyu whimper out as she rocked her hips trying to get all the pleasure she can get. Her eyes were still closed and her head turned to the side. Begging for my cock being something that even all our time is something she’s rather shy about.
But you wanted to hear the words from her mouth on your guys’s anniversary.
“Tell me what you want. I want to hear it from that pretty little mouth of yours, Princess.” You say hovering over her, using one hand to keep you propped up over her and the other to gently take her chin and force eye contact between you two.
She whines in response lightly tapping at your abs, but you don’t budge.
You lean down enough to where you’re laying on her but not with your entire weight on top of her. Your bare cock touches her stomach and the leaking precum drips on her belly as the cold touch makes her shiver.
“I want my Princess to tell me exactly what she wants on our anniversary.” You nibble on her ear as you whisper this causing her to groan as she shifts her body.
To some this may seem overly cheesy, but you know just how Tzuyu likes it. For her the romantic connection has to be there and there’s nothing that gets her heart racing like hearing you calling her Princess inches from her ear. You know exactly what she likes.
“I want your cock.” She mumbles to the point where you think you imagined it.
“Say that again love.” You nuzzle your head into her shoulder with your ear directly by her mouth, craving oh so desperately to hear those words, knowing she’s just as desperate from her cunt juices that have soaked the bed sheets near her crotch area.
“I want you to put your cock inside of me.” Hearing your cute innocent girlfriend say the word “cock” almost made you cum right there, but you composed yourself.
“That’s my Princess.” You lift yourself up to give her a quick peck on her cheeks as you notice her unable to make eye contact with you as her cheeks ever subtly turn a rosy color.
You laugh silently to yourself. She really is the best girlfriend in the world.
With the amount of precum you have dripping out and the natural fluid dripping from her heat there’s need of minimal lube as you align with her center once more, and the plunge ever so slowly in, savoring the long drawn out moans of Tzuyu who takes the pillow her head was resting on and now uses it to cover her mouth, but the moans are still heard throughout the room.
Tzuyu’s not really a moaner but more so a whimper. When she’s enjoying herself the room is filled with soft yet quick whines rather than loud or exciting screams. And you liked it like that. Sex was something between you two, from the smell, taste, and sounds. No need to share it with the neighbors.
You rock your hips in a slow and controlled manner, just as Tzuyu likes. She wants to favor every feeling, loving the bliss she’s in when she can feel every inch of your cock entering and exiting, but you also include several hard thrusts as well to break the rhythm which make her whimpers start to resemble full blown moans. She bites harder on the pillow to prevent from being heard but there’s nothing more you’d like to see than your princes making such an erotic face and sounds for you.
You take the pillow and remove it, observing your innocent girlfriend who just a few hours ago was cheerfully eating an egg tart while walking with you in a shopping mall, and is now a smutty mess with tears welling, saliva ever slightly drooling near her mouth, hair a disheveled mess with parts caught up in her mouth, and her cheeks a rosy tinted color matching that of her lips.
It’s enough to make you cum right there.
Despite being in the steady rhythm that Tzuyu enjoys, the sheer eroticism of all that was taking place was putting you near your edge as you began to frantically increase the pace at which you were thrusting into Tzuyu. The squeaking of the bed increases as does the frequency of her little moans as the two of you are nearly at your tipping point.
“I’m gonna cum.” You smack into her one last time and let your cum release inside, seconds later flopping next to Tzuyu on the bed who’s attempting to catch her breath.
“That was amazing…” She speaks before you get the chance. You reach your arm out to the cupboard next to the bed and grab a few sheets of napkins which you hand to Tzuyu who slowly wipes at the liquid dripping from her cunt.
You place your hand on her stomach and rub at it, thankful for having such a wonderful human in your life. She attempts to get up to throw the dirty napkins away but you take your hand that was on her stomach and wrap your arm around her and pull her down into your embrace.
“Do it later please.” You groan against your girlfriend who attempts to wiggle out while complaining about it being dirty, but eventually she gives in by tossing the dirty napkins filled with mixture of your cum and her juices onto the cupboard as she melts into your embrace.
“Made you cum pretty hard there.” You say with a cheeky smile as she playfully slaps at your chest. She runs her hands through your hair with a slight smile on her face.
“Best anniversary ever.” She says with a laugh.
“But this is our first anniversary.”
“I know. But it’ll be hard to top this one. I mean it’s been perfect, but the best part?..” she trails off with a smirk on her face as you can feel energy beginning to return to your member down there.
“…was the eggtart.” She says taking the small remaining leftover from the cupboard and eating it with a sheepish smile.
“That was mine.” You groan lifting yourself up and smashing your mouth to hers, attempting to use your tongue to retrieve what bits of flavor you can savor from her mouth as Tzuyu giggles in your embrace, wrapping her arms around your neck as you two sink back into the bed with your tongues still tied in a clash.
Looks like the anniversary night isn’t over yet.
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anzulvr · 6 months
Note
Karma x Goosip!reader? Like I'd love to imagine they're in the middle of class and reader just whispers to Karma "I heard Koro-Sensei was keeping a favorite student list in his desk" or smth. The two would be gossip buddies with Rio but a bit better bc they're in E-class
Karma X Reader <3 || Gossiping with Karma and Rio — fluff!
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Karma has no censor, he’ll say anything for a laugh (like in the episode where he calls the REAPER kinky?? Gtfo 💀)
The class will be completely silent and he’ll be talking to you so loudly because he has issues whispering, he doesn’t care if people hear but you do, so gossip sessions consists of you constantly shushing him and him talking louder to mess with you.
“And then that’s when I beat the crap out of the Koyama infront of Seo. Asano hasn’t said anything yet so I thi-”
“Karma shh..”
“Its fine no one cares.”
Karma then proceeds to finish his story louder than before (put ur hand over his mouth to get him to shut up.)
He acts like he doesn’t care about the things you and Rio gossip about, but he’s listening INTENTLY 😭
You’re Karma and Rios biggest secret weapon.
They love to make fun of everyone and you have all the info, they know exactly how to get things out of you.
“[Name] Cmon we’re friends just tell us what you saw..!” Rio is practically begging for you to spill.
“I can’t! I promised Takebayashi I’d stay quiet for a cookie.”
“[Name] a cookie?? Over me?”
“Sorry Rio it was chocolate chip.”
Karma says “please..?” one time and it’s over, you literally tell them everything. (Rios very salty you gave into him so easily and not her😭)
“I saw him at a maid café and he and the worker were baby talking eachother, I got a video and everything.”
“NO WAY- LET ME SEE.” Rio is the first to react
“Wait why were you at a maid café?", Karma asks.
“I saw him through the window and I was feeling nosy.”
— They keep tabs on everything to stir drama.
About the scenario in your ask they do pull stunts like that.
“I heard Korosensei keeps a list of his favorite students on his desk.” They spread this rumor knowing well they planted that list themselves 😭
The class believes it and gives Korosensei the cold shoulder for a hot minute.
“Does anyone want to answer the problem on the board?”
“Why don’t you answer it Sugino? Since you’re one of his favorites.” Maehara calls out.
Korosensei frantically tries to assure everyone he doesn’t play favorites and believes in everyone equally.
“I SWEAR I DONT KNOW WHAT LIST YOU ALL ARE REFERRING TO IWOULDNTEVERDOSUCHATHINPLEASE.”
“Woah slow down teach, we don’t understand a single thing you’re saying… all we hear is sounds of a traitor.”
Everyone gives him a hard time until Karma and Rio admit they’re messing with everyone.
They do things like that all the time but they have such a knack for debating and convincing, your class falls for it every time!
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wesstars · 6 months
Text
can't rely on my heart
wednesday addams x fem!reader (no pronouns)
summary: are people more likely to tell the truth while they’re drunk? wc: 800 tags: all characters involved are 18+. AU, they’re in some big city. wednesday and reader are childhood ‘friends.’ unresolved tension!!! a/n: i miss y’all 😭hope everyone is doing well!! welcome to another wednesday wednesday with the most amazing @evilwednesday. special good morning to @mindyswhore. @melrodrigo told me to hurry up haha. (let’s just ignore how I missed last week okay)
masterlist
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1:28 am
come get your bitch.
Wednesday frowned at Yoko’s text. She wondered, briefly, who “your bitch” could ever be—unbidden, your grinning face came to mind, shining bright as a dying star. Wednesday hated it. It was stuff like this, knowing that your friends would ask Wednesday, of all people, to come pick you up, that was intolerable. Always popular yet with a genuine charm, you commanded attention wherever you were, so warm and dazzling that you eclipsed everything around you. You consistently crossed the line with Wednesday, since you really never knew when to stop. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed her car keys.
***
You were giggling. It was insufferable: it had already been enough to go to the bar—a place with sticky floors that Wednesday turned her nose up at—and it was excruciating to have dragged you out, catching you from rolling your ankle on the pavement, so your glittering laugh really was the worst torture Wednesday was willing to endure. Yoko had pushed you unceremoniously into Wednesday, while Enid sent her a sympathetic glance and a promise to text. Wednesday was torn between keeping her distance, so you wouldn’t throw up on her shoes, and holding you upright so you wouldn’t cause a scene, but you made her decision for her.
“You’re so—sloppy,” Wednesday hissed, grabbing your elbow to stop you from careening into a pedestrian. You’d always been a lightweight, since your university days, where you’d always show up, drunk as a dog, knocking at Wednesday and Enid’s place. You would claim that you lost your address. It wasn’t uncommon for you to be over there at all, every little quirk you had being memorized by the apartment: your mug, your spare key, your book on how the biggest planets are made of the very same things that humans are. 
“Wednesday,” you said, leaning on her shoulder. She wrinkled her nose. “Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday… 
She scoffed. “Just be quiet.”
“I don’t want to,” you whined, being the absolute child that Wednesday thought you were. She let go of your arm, stalking towards her car without you. While she definitely thought of you as someone she could do without babysitting, she still looked back to make sure you were following. You were tracing your crooked path on the sidewalk, scuffing your shoes as you trailed your fingers on every streetlight and sign pole that you passed. Something licked its way through Wednesday’s veins, destructive like fire.
“You…” Wednesday ignored you. Why had she parked so far? The sooner you crashed on her couch, the sooner you’d leave her alone. 
“You, with that beautiful smile—” gods, just how many drinks did you have?—“Hold on.” 
“I don’t smile.” Wednesday waited, for some reason, as you stumbled forward, catching up to her while the drinks caught up to you.
Ignoring her, you whispered, “I have something to say to you,” showing all your teeth in a dopey smile. When you leaned in, Wednesday saw how the shine of the streetlights caught on your rosy cheeks, glowing.
“You’re even prettier when you’re all the way here, with me, not just in my head.”
Wednesday felt her dead, still heart jolt with an artificial electricity, as if you’d pressed both hands to her chest and yelled clear! It was a startlingly alive experience, being touched by such a startlingly alive person. Every breath was hard to take, as you looked down. The streetlight cast a warm glow, lighting up your outline. You smelled too much like alcohol for such an admission, one where she could feel the cold metal of your arrow, Apollo ablaze, press up against her ribs.
It was weird, how one never really does know the answer to an unspoken question until it was right in front of them, burning. 
“You’re not going to remember this,” Wednesday said quietly. “I’m telling you now, so you can understand why.” She looked into your eyes; they were surprisingly clear for someone so inebriated. 
Your voice was a whisper, nearly drowned out by a car rushing past. “Why what?”
Wednesday looked up at you. You’d stopped right in front of her car, an accuracy unbecoming of how drunk you seemed to be. She placed a hand on you, your shoulder this time, and yanked you down to her height. You were so close, now, your nose brushing hers, and she felt you take a breath. “Why I don’t mind you being this close.” She hoped you could smell the jasmine perfume she wore. “Why I don’t mind when you cross the line.” Your hair fell into your eyes. “Why I’m driving you home.”
She stepped back, opening the car door and shoving you in. You leaned your temple on the seat, head tilted back to meet her eyes.
“I know, Wednesday.”
--
a/n cont'd: something something yearning something something
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