#Chili's Chat: Asks

[baby-yongbok]

sub x sub smut is all i can think ab tbh!

like subby you and chan omg 😵‍💫

Good For You - Bang Chan x afab!Reader

✧ Content warning - Unprotected sex, creampie, anal toys, established relationship [MDNI] ✧ WC - 1.1k ✧ a/n: I think that sub x sub is interesting and that Chan fit this really well. My second choice would've probably been Han or Felix. Maybe even Hyunjin. Even thought Chan fit it well this was a bit of a challenge. I hope I did it justice! Thanks for the request! (*^_^*) ✧ Masterlist ✧

Most couples wear matching hoodies or sneakers. They’d buy bracelets with similar color schemes but you and Chan had a different idea. 

 “Baby..” He whimpers while the butt plug you bought vibrates inside of him. You found a cute couples set, pretty and pink with a cute heart shaped jewel on the flared end. 

“Channie..” You whine, fighting with his jeans to free him. “Hol’ still please.. Need..”  

He squirms against the mattress beneath him, the plug working wonders against his prostate and making his cock leak sticky strings that you lick up hastily. Your own plug is going at full speed, pushing you closer to the release that Chan has been trying to tease all night. 

Your boyfriend pulls you up from your spot between his knees with a huff, “No.. no no wanna suck your cock..” You protest and Chan cuts you off with a sloppy kiss on the corner of your lips. 

“Please just let me fuck you, need to fuck you, baby. I’ll be your good boy if you’ll be my good girl, please.” He pulls you into his lap and your hips buck at the contact. Your heads fall back, your breathing stutters as you paw at each other's bodies greedily. 

“I’m your good girl.” You moan, bucking your hips over him. Your pants found their way to the floor as soon as you two got home and your panties went somewhere with them. 

“Fuck, I can’t … you’re gonna make me cum..” His sentence breaks somewhere in the middle. His voice falters like his self control while you rub your slick bare cunt over his pulsing length. You grind over the head, rolling your hips in circles that makes you clench around the buzzing plug with a pathetic curse. 

“I’ll be so good, Channie, please..” His grip on your hips tightens, his eyes shut tight and his hurried breathing betrays him, getting caught in his chest when the head of his cock catches on your entrance. 

“Baby, let me fuck you, please please please.” Chan’s glassy eyes struggle to focus when he opens them to plead with you. “Ride me or - or I’ll ride you, please, anything..” 

His pleas mix with yours while you beg for the same exact thing. “Yes, yes, please..” You grind up and his cock slips inside. You share a fucked out keen and Chan’s fingers dig into your hips while yours press into his shoulders. 

“Fuck, move.. I need you to move or I’m gonna bust just like this, please..” Chan looks and sounds like he could cry. The plug pressing against his sweet spot is nearly painful with pleasure and when you move, bouncing over him just how he likes it, the plug fucks into him and his eyes roll back.

You’re no better, filled in both holes and seconds away from bursting at the seams. You can feel Chan’s thick cock rub up against the plug, you can feel the way he twitches with each wave of vibration that surges through you and you can feel your clit throb with pleasure from your impending climax. 

“Don’t stop, Don’t stop, you’re such a good - good girl f’ me..” His words are choked and the air is crowded with whimpers but his are significantly louder, overpowering your breathy whines with heady grunts and pathetic groans that only fuel the fire burning hot in your core. 

He meets you with a thrust each time you bounce over him, his rhythm falters and he bucks up. You swear that you can feel him in your stomach. You fall forward and he holds you tight, squeezing you and fucking up into you faster to chase his own high. 

“Channie, baby, feels so.. good. Please don’t cum yet, please don’t stop yet..” He whines, his hips stuttering again. 

“Need to cum, baby, need to..” His words are nearly incoherent when he speaks through clenched teeth. “Wanna make you feel good, wanna be your good boy but.. But..”

You clench around him and the both of you fall apart. Your orgasm dangles in front of your face, your clit pulses from the traveling vibrations of the plug and your boyfriend's intense climax only makes it worse. 

Chan melts beneath you, squeezing you to his chest and panting like he’s been underwater for ages. His cock twitches and pulses while he fucks you through his high. His movements are fast and choppy while he’s rambling in your ear.

“M’ sorry, sorry - fuck, s-so tight… so good, please cum.. I’ll make you cum, I’ll be your good boy.” His arm wraps around your waist and his hand cradles the back of your head while he moves you over him like a doll. A glorified flesh light designed just for him. 

“Yes, yes, yes, thank you. Look at me, please.. Wanna see you, baby.” He tries to pull back, tries to look you in the eye but the overstimulation of this messy cocktail has his glassy eyes hiding behind his lids. 

“Too much..” He bucks up harder and you’re seeing white. Everything seems to vanish as the pleasure seeps in and takes over. You scream, tears rolling down your cheeks as you chant a chorus of “thank you’s” to him. While you’re falling apart on top of him, Chan is being milked dry. 

He groans, it falls into a pathetic whine like he’s crying for you while his sensitive cock twitches inside of your swollen walls yet again. Your full cunt makes room for the new load by pushing your limits, making you leak around the base of his cock. 

“F-fuck, too much.” He whimpers while you ride out your high with fat tears streaming down your cheeks. You feel the overstimulation too. You feel the vibrating and pulsing and leaking. “Senstive, my dick is fucking… shit… baby, baby, get off..”

He lifts you and you whimper. His cock falls forward, his cum leaks from your stretched hole. His dick is red, swollen and pulsing and pretty. You straddle his thighs, watching his cock jump while leaking over the toned and taut muscle of his stomach. 

Your plugs are still going at high speed and he clenches around it. “I’m gonna k-keep fucking cumming if you don’t turn that off…” He doesn’t sound as opposed to it as he tries to seem. You look up at him with big eyes, blinking at him with an insatiable urge to empty him.

“I’ll be your good girl if you’ll be my good boy..” Your voice is soft yet strained from the earlier screaming and Chan curses. He squirms, looking down at you with eyes just as shiny as yours. Just as needy as yours. 

“I’m your good boy.”

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@wealwayskeepfighting

[jiyoos]

perhaps i am really approachable? recently when i go out, random people always come up and talk to me. today a walmart employee told me that she liked my snoopy bag and started telling me about her father who loves snoopy :D

[void-my-warranty]

Fem reader x Kyle Garrick

If you think third-wheeling is bad, you should try third wheeling for your sister.

Yep, your younger sister, currently outpacing you in margaritas at a booth in Chili’s, while her big scary husband smiles at her over the rim of his glass. He knows how to pace himself — he’s your designated driver, after all — but he seems to be enjoying the freedom of your parents watching their little one for a night out.

Well, aside from habitually making your sister check her phone every five minutes, in case something goes wrong.

“Just give it to him,” you finally suggest with a laugh, eyeing the way he keeps one fingertip on the bedazzled edge of the phone case. “Bad case of the first time parent.”

Simon makes an annoyed grumble, but sure enough the sparkly phone gets pushed to his side of the table.

You do like him. Was he easy to get used to? No. Does his job allow for a lot of support for his family? Also no. But he has a safeness about him that you understand. And damn is he tall.

Your sister appears to be hitting that sweet spot of lowered inhibitions and horniness, because she thinks she’s being way more subtle than she is while flirting with her husband. You pretend you don’t notice, staring absently at the rafters when the conversation lags, burying yourself in another sip of alcohol when eyes get too bedroomy.

It makes you miserable, if you’re being honest.

Not that your sister can’t have herself a very nice, reliable, tree of a man to call her own, it’s just… She made it look so easy. Bat her eyelashes a few times at the scariest guy in the room, and bam, married with kids. Meanwhile you’re lonely enough to be third wheeling on a Friday night, with only your empty bed to look forward to, and the daily choice of situationship or isolation.

“We’ll be right back, need to pee.”

You focus your gaze back on your two companions, their sleep deprived faces unusually glowing with… aww, fuck. They’re gonna go fuck in the bathroom.

Of course they are.

So now, not only are you third wheeling, but you’re getting stood up while third wheeling. Fucking great.

As soon as you’ve lost their backs in the crowd, someone’s phone starts to ring on the other side of the booth divider. You ignore it, glowering into the dregs of your margarita and wishing you’d gotten a lot more drunk a lot faster. You may as well chug the rest of your sister’s while she’s gone, and maybe you’ll make it to the numb phase faster.

As you reach across the table for it, you finally realize what you should have all along, that it’s actually Simon’s phone that’s ringing, because he apparently left it at the table.

You didn’t notice it before because it blended in with the appetizers scattered around, but you curiously pick it up, wondering if it’s something important for his job.

The screen displays a plain, bold: Knobhead #2

That makes you laugh, watching the call die when it goes to voicemail. You go to put it back, but it’s already ringing again, because apparently somebody needs him.

You really shouldn’t.

But you can’t help it. It would be fun, and you really need something to cheer you up.

With a grin, you answer the call and smoothly purr, “Hello, knobhead.��

There’s a beat of silence on the other side of the line, and then a muffled, “What?”

“You heard me. What do you need, Simon’s busy. And before you ask, this is not Mrs. Riley, this is someone who has no business answering his phone.”

There’s a long enough pause this time that you’re able to gulp down some of your sister’s drink. You stretch your legs out under the booth and stare up at the rafters, thinking idly about situationships and isolation.

The male voice on the other end of the line makes a soft, “Mmm, I see,” and it throws you off a little bit because you were expecting someone impatient to reach Simon. “Got any idea where he is?”

“Well Knobhead, he’s currently having a chat with Mrs. Riley in the bathroom stall, I imagine. If you’d like to come down to Chilis, you’ll find me very alone, and very pissed that the two people I came out with tonight have abandoned me to bump uglies for the thousandth time. Can I take a message?”

The man has a pandering note to his voice now that pisses you off. “I… don’t think that would be wise. But fancy calling me Knobhead one more time before I go?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

You go to end the call, but unfortunately fumble around the screen a little, just long enough to hear a warm chuckle on the other side of the line before you punch the red button.

Knobhead is right.

[julietsf1]

Ramentic Gestures - Franco Colapinto x Reader

summary: Franco thinks switching bowls is the chivalrous thing to do—until he takes a bite and realizes he’s made a terrible mistake (2k words)

content: fluff, established relationship, tough guy soft moment

AN: Inspired by my uber eats order a couple of minutes ago! really do love spicy food I always carry my habanero pepper w me in my purse, just can't risk it yk

............................................................................

Kyoto at night had a certain glow to it. The kind that reflected off rain-slicked streets, neon signs flickering against glass windows, and the steady hum of life moving through the city. It was the kind of place that made everything feel a little more exciting, like anything could happen.

Franco and I had ducked into a small ramen shop tucked between two buildings, its red lanterns swaying gently outside. The place was warm, slightly crowded, the air thick with the scent of slow-simmered broth, fresh scallions and a hint of chili oil. It smelled incredible.

The restaurant was packed, mostly with locals slurping noodles and chatting over steaming bowls. The kind of place that didn’t rely on fancy decor or gimmicks—just good food.

Franco leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “See? I told you I’d find the best spot.”

I scoffed. “I found it. You just agreed.”

He winked, tilting his head slightly. “Agreeing is part of the process.”

Before I could argue, our bowls arrived, and the conversation immediately paused. The food looked incredible—deep, rich broth shimmering with chili oil, tender slices of duck resting on top, and a generous heap of scallions and sesame seeds. The noodles were thick and slightly curled, the kind that soaked up the broth perfectly.

I picked up my chopsticks, eager to dig in. “This looks amazing.”

Franco hummed in agreement, already reaching for his spoon. “Authentic Japanese ramen. Can’t get better than this.”

I took my first bite, letting the warm, flavorful broth coat my tongue. The spice hit immediately—not too bad, but definitely strong. A pleasant warmth bloomed in my mouth, tingling at the edges of my lips. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was the kind of heat that lingered. Heat that gets more intense with each bite you take.

Franco, however, didn’t seem to notice my reaction. He was too busy tasting his own food, completely unaware of what was about to happen.

“Spicy?” he asked casually, watching me from across the table.

I shook my head, swallowing. “A little, but it’s good.”

Satisfied, he twirled his chopsticks around the noodles and took a bite of his own, nodding approvingly. “Yeah, the broth is insane. Proper depth of flavor.”

I reached for my water, taking a small sip just to ease the heat. When I looked up again, Franco was watching me, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“You sure you’re good?” he teased.

I raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You always do this thing when something’s spicy—you try to act normal, but you reach for water every few seconds.”

“I do not,” I argued.

“You do,” he insisted, leaning forward slightly. “You did it in Monaco with the hotpot, and in Austin with the—”

“Oh my god, enough,” I laughed, rolling my eyes. “It’s really not that bad.”

He smirked like he didn’t believe me, then glanced at my bowl. “Do you want to switch?”

I hesitated. “You don’t have to.”

Franco scoffed, already reaching for my bowl. “Please cariño, I can handle it.”

I bit my lip, watching as he confidently pulled my bowl towards him, his expression still entirely too smug. “Alright,” I muttered, trading him for his much milder-looking ramen.

He barely hesitated before taking a bite.

And then—

His jaw tightened.

His grip on his chopsticks stiffened ever so slightly.

His chewing slowed.

For a second, I thought he might actually handle it. But then, the first real sign of distress—his ears turned red.

I bit back a smile, watching him carefully. “Good? Not too spicy?”

Franco exhaled through his nose, setting his chopsticks down with a careful precision. “Yeah.”

I squinted. “You sure? We can switch back.”

He licked his lips, blinking a little too much. “Mhm.”

I tilted my head. “You’re blinking a lot, honey.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You totally are.”

He sniffed. Subtly. As if testing the damage.

I gasped. “Your nose is running.”

He immediately swiped the back of his hand across his face, shaking his head. “It’s just warm in here.”

I could barely contain my laughter. “Franco, you are sweating.”

“I am not sweating.”

“There is literal moisture on your forehead.”

He exhaled sharply, reaching for his drink in a way that was almost casual, except for the fact that he drank half of it in one go.

I leaned my elbows on the table, smirking. “Are you gonna admit it’s spicy now?”

Franco cleared his throat, still determined to keep his composure. “It’s… a little spicy.”

I burst out laughing. “A little?”

He shook his head, sighing dramatically. “Dale, me rindo.” He glanced at my bowl, then back at me. “How are you just sitting there, totally fine?”

I shrugged, taking another bite of his much milder ramen. “I told you—it’s not that bad.”

Franco leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “No. This is actually lava.”

I grinned. “Too bad. You tried to show off and the spice humbled you.”

“I didn’t try to show off.”

“You absolutely did.”

He exhaled dramatically, reaching for a napkin and dabbing at his forehead. “I was saving you.”

“You should've saved yourself.”

Franco groaned, running a hand through his hair. “At least tell me I looked cool before it hit me.”

I tilted my head, pretending to consider. “Mmm. I don’t know. You went from confident to crisis pretty fast.”

He groaned again, dropping his head onto the table for a second before sitting back up. “Okay. Fine. What do I get in return for my suffering?”

I raised an eyebrow. “For your self-inflicted suffering?”

“Yes.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “What do you want?”

Franco smirked. “A kiss.”

I rolled my eyes, but he was already leaning forward, resting his chin on his hand like he was waiting.

I sighed dramatically before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “There. Happy?”

He grinned. “I don’t know. I think I need another one to really recover.”

I shoved his shoulder playfully, laughing as he reached for his drink again. Franco Colapinto, world class athlete—completely defeated by a bowl of spicy ramen.

[eternalsunrise]

when in france

nfl! joe burrow x fem! reader

wc: 3.1k

tags! established relationship, college sweethearts (because i said so), 💍 hint hint, no smut!

notes! abby try not to write sickening fluff challenge failed horribly. i keep going back and forth about whether i like or not but i hope you guys do! mwah 💋

when joe told you he’d be attending and modeling for fashion week, you were ecstatic. you’ve been encouraging him to step out of his comfort zone, and it seemed like he was finally listening during this offseason.

when he told you the event was in france, you were even more stunned. you were so excited for him. there was no one more deserving of these opportunities than your joe.

and when he asked you to accompany him, you were absolutely floored. sure you knew he loved you. you’ve felt it every day for years. but an experience like this, you were so grateful he’d even consider sharing this with you.

“are you sure? really babe it’s okay, i won’t be upset.” you had reassured him the day he found out about the opportunity.

joe just looked at you like you had three heads over his dinner, his fork clattering as he dropped it onto the plate. he reaches his arm across the table and clasps your hand with his, “hey. don’t be silly. you’re my girl. there’s no one, and i mean no one, i’d rather do this with.”

there’s something about joe’s soft, steady voice that always reassures you in the way he knows you need. he places a delicate kiss to the back of your knuckles. you don’t worry about it again.

your time in france is an absolute whirlwind. joe had warned you that his schedule was pretty packed, but you didn’t mind. after all, you’ve grown used to the hustle bustle of football season. nothing like the fast life. dinners, meetings, panels, runways, and parties. you’re supporting joe through it all, and he notices. hell, everyone notices.

the first dinner you all have together is after a runway show in cannes.

you’re chatting with a woman sitting next to you, laughing and sipping a glass of white wine. joe is on the other side of you, catching up with JJ and some of the other guys. of course the topic has reverted back to football, hard to avoid with those two at the table together. JJ and another friend are in a heated discussion about the rules surrounding taunting when the food arrives.

when the plates hit the table, joe watches your actions from the corner of his eye. you pick at your side choice, before putting the smallest bite into your mouth. reaction almost immediate, you turn to joe with a grimace that he knows all too well.

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head back and forth as he begins to eat his own meal, “i told you. i knew you wouldn’t like them cooked that way.”

you did this every time the two of you had dinner somewhere new. you like to order something you’d usually never try on the menu, in hopes of enjoying it. and joe, who knows you better than anyone, always warns you against it. then every single time, you flash him an adorable smile and say the same thing, “well, when in___”

this started when he brought you to ohio for the first time. the two of you were having lunch in cincy before heading to athens to meet his parents. you inquired about ‘cincinnati chili’, to which joe explained and confessed that even he didn’t enjoy chili served over spaghetti. but you had said “well, when in cincinnati!” with such excitement, that he didn’t have the heart to argue further.

the hometown specialty almost made you puke all over his childhood bedroom hours later. flash forward some years and the song and dance was still the same.

you shake your head, trying to lie. you’re stubborn. the last thing you want to do is admit he was right about this…again.

you attempt another bite, poking the food around your white, porcelain plate. “it’s not that bad joey…i kinda like it…”

you’re lying through your teeth. joe knows. he always does. the man has been reading you like a playbook since college.

so with a sigh he picks up both of your plates, making easy work of switching them. this is also a reoccurring affair. joe always orders something he knows you’ll enjoy, pretty much expecting you not to like your exotic choices. he never tells you this of course. but he’s not picky, so no harm no foul.

you frown down at your new dinner, as much as it looks delicious, you feel bad taking your boyfriend’s food. “no joey you don’t have to do that. i’ll eat it i swear!”

joe just gives you an affectionate eye roll, tapping your thigh a few times under the table, “eat baby.” he gently commands, picking up a fork and beginning to eat your rejected meal. his hand lingers, and you intertwine it with yours, leaning over and placing a sweet kiss on his cheek. you murmur a thank you against his skin, joe hums in response.

unbeknownst to you both, the people across from you were tuned in to the entire exhange. sharing amused glances with JJ, who just shrugs, “they’ve always been like this.”

the two of you resume eating, when the man across from joe speaks up in an amused tone, “so how long?”

joe looks up, confusion written on his face, “excuse me?” he swallows a bite and decides you’re right. this isn’t good at all, but he’s gonna eat every bite.

the man chuckles, sipping his drink. “sorry i didn’t mean to pry. it’s just, you two remind me of me and my wife early on in our marriage. i just assumed you must be newlyweds.”

the words catch your attention and your eyes turn into saucers. newlyweds? did the two of you really act married? the idea of being joe’s for life, officially; your stomach twists in lovesick knots. sure you’ve definitely thought about it. after all, you’ve been by his side for almost 5 years now. but you didn’t know where joe stood when it came to life long commitment. the idea that he might not want that with you, is sorta frightening. you don’t have time to overthink it though, a couple of ladies pulling you back into busy conversation.

justin gives joe a knowing smirk. he holds a hand up and wiggles his fingers, pretending he’s wearing a ring. an action he used to do back when joe would ditch them to hang out with you after lsu practices.

you’re so preoccupied you don’t notice joe’s hand playing with yours a little later into the meal. he takes one of your daily rings off of your index finger, slipping it onto the special one next to your pinky. he twirls it around a couple times, smiling fondly.

the rest of your days abroad pass in pictures of time. you and joe eating croissants early in the morning. sneaking kisses in your hotels elevator. joe asking if he had anything in his teeth before walking in a backless suit.

“were you planning on smiling on the runway babe?” you teased.

joe just shrugs, “maybe. it’s hard not to when i know you’re watching me.”

before you know it, it’s the vogue world after party, marking your last night before returning to the states. the night is lots of fun, full of mingling and laughter. although…there’s something up with your boyfriend. you’re not sure what, but he seems almost anxious. it’s usually out of joe’s character to be antsy, they call him joe cool for a reason. he’s been fidgety, bouncing his knee up and down every time the two of you were sitting. he’s quiet, but still sweet to you in a way that’s reassuring you that he’s okay. you blame his odd behavior on exhaustion, or maybe his social battery draining. maybe even the strobe lights are giving him a headache, which is bittersweet because they make his blues shine so well.

it’s well past midnight, and you’re sitting on joe’s lap wearing a black dress that compliments his outfit. you’re chatting with some people while

your boyfriend sits silently. you have no idea, but his mind is running a mile a second. one of his hands is wrapped around your waist, the other twirling stands of your hair that sit against the back of your dress. his heart thumps against his chest as he uses his leverage against you to raise himself up. he takes a deep breath, and leans his body forward to reach your ear. “you wanna get out of here?” deep voice rumbles from his chest and tickles your ear. it makes a shiver run up your spine.

you turn your head to look behind you, your noses are almost touching this way. the loose curl sitting against his forehead is begging you to brush it away. you resist the urge.

“sure babe, if you’re ready?”

joe looks at you with a look so full of adoration you think you might melt. he presses a quick kiss to your lips, “i’m ready. i already called the car.”

paris is stunning late at night, lights twinkling across the city. joe watches you stare out the cab window. he looks at you the way he has all night, full of love and an indescribable devotion. you’re so mesmerized by the landscape you don’t even notice you’ve passed your hotel until joe clears his throat.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion when joe turns your head to face him. “do you trust me?” the question is serious, but his voice is kind of rocky. like he’s nervous. but what for?

you nod your head with a laugh, “of course joey. why?”

joe smiles and deflects from the question. “alright. close your eyes for me then.”

now you’re really confused. you tilt your head at him, watching as the smile remains on his face. he’s really waiting on you to close your eyes. well, you choose to honor you words, closing your eyes tightly. you’re guessing a surprise is in store.

you feel the car slow to a stop. your hands drum on your lap, anticipation building in your gut.

joe places a hand on your thigh. “don’t get out yet, i’ll come around and get you.”

you nod your head, eyes still clenched to prove your honesty. you hear a car door shut and footsteps coming closer.

joe takes a deep breath, crisp night air filling his lungs. a shaky hand grips your car door, pulling it open.

you hear joe thank the driver, before he gently takes hold of your hands. he guides you to stand and step out of the car. you hear the cab drive away and your heart thumping in your ears.

the warmth of joe’s hands covers your eyes, making you laugh. whatever this surprise is, joe’s pretty adamant in not wanting you to spoil it.

you begin walking forward at joes command. “we almost there?”

you feel your body turn to the right, and suddenly the presence of his hands disappears.

“alright. open em’” he backs away from you, hands shoved into black pants.

you open your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the lights blinking all over the place. you gasp at what’s in front of you, your eyes trailing upwards. “joe…you…”

he grants you a chuckle, eyes crinkling in the way you adored. “you didn’t think we’d leave before i let you see the eiffel tower did you?”

you just stare at the beautiful structure in front of you, trying to convince yourself it was real. there’s something so breathtaking about being in front of something you’ve only seen in photos.

joe is staring at you with the same fascination that you’re giving a wonder of the world. 5 years and you still make the confidence flee from him. you take his breath away simply by being well, you. he’s been a nervous wreck all day. but staring at you right now, in the middle of paris. he’s never been so sure of anything.

you’re rubbing your bare arms, but the cold isn’t even bothering you.

that doesn’t matter to joe. he slips his charcoal jacket off, draping it over your shoulders. you feel strong arms around you, a comfortable warmth covering you. joe rests his chin on your shoulder, turning and placing a few kisses on your cheek. his nose cold against your skin, but you still welcome the contact.

a content sigh escapes you, “it’s so stunning, isn’t it? there’s something so romantic about it.”

joe nods, but to be honest he’s barely even glanced at the tower. he calls your name, his voice cracking is like a bullet shooting through his ego.

you turn to face him, a grin on your face. “i know i keep saying it but thank you. thank you so much for bringing me here.”

joe’s response doesn’t miss a beat, “i’d take you anywhere. i want to take you everywhere, show you the world. that’s what you deserve.”

the sincerity of his words coupled with the setting make your heart soar. suddenly he unravels himself from you. you turn around to face him confused. you open your mouth to question him but he interrupts you by grabbing your hands, squeezing them with his own.

“i love you. i’ve loved you for 5 years and somehow i still love you more each day. you’re the best part of me. you make me a better man, and i wanna be that man for you, always.” joe’s voice is strained as if he’s getting emotional. it’s so rare to see from him. the fact that he’s getting choked up over you. his love for you nonetheless, you feel your own throat tighten. you feel your eyes well up with tears. joe brings your intertwined hands to rest against his chest, his heart pounding in a way he’s sure you feel. the night air sweeps his hair around, that single curl waving at you.

“the first time i thought you to ohio, i saw howmuch my family loved you…and i realized something.”

that was only 6 months into your relationship. a spring break in march that joe wanted to spend with his family. he asked you to tag along and although you were petrified, you agreed. you’ve never felt nervous around his family after that, quite the opposite actually.

suddenly joe steps back from you, a hand reaching into his pocket. the implication of what’s happening makes your mouth dry up. it’s like you’re frozen, just staring at him with wide eyes.

“i–i went out and got this as soon as we got back to baton rouge. i’ve held on to it all this time….and i brought it with me because i thought well, when in france. right?” joe tries his best to keep his voice steady, a nervous chuckle escaping him. and sure enough, a little black, velvet box appears in his hand.

a hand flies to your mouth, and you look around as if a camera crew is going to appear and tell you you’re being pranked. but alas, it’s just you, joe, and the eiffel tower.

“joe….” the tears are definitely flowing now, silently down your face. you couldn’t believe your eyes. this was really happening. right now. in paris at almost 2 in the morning.

you watch as joe gets down on one knee. he tries to tame his trembling hands as he opens the little box, but to no avail. the quarterback that is usually so collected, has crumbled down to mush that you hold in the palm of your hand.

joe perches the box in between his hands, early morning moonlight dances across the diamond ring.

he breathes your name like a prayer, “i meant what i said. i would want to do this. or anything, with anyone else. i want to be yours forever if you’ll have me. so angel, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

joe flashes you that boyish smile that you fell in love with all those years ago. it’s then that you realize it isn’t just joe kneeling before you.

it’s the handsome transfer student from ohio that asks you where bronson hall is. it’s the boy that invites you to watch him play football, and forgets to mention he’s the new star quarterback. it’s the guy your friends ask about when you’re blushing at brunch. it’s the teary eyed heisman trophy winner who thanks you in his speech. it’s the cincinnati bengal who trusts you decorate the new apartment you share together. it’s the guy that plays catch with your younger family members at thanksgiving. it’s your boyfriend that invited you to france. it’s your joe.

this is the easiest question you’ve ever been asked.

“yes. oh my fucking god! a million times yes!” you exclaim, heels clicking the pavement as you jump up and down a couple of times. you’re confused when you look down and see joe still kneeling below you, his grin rivaling the city lights. then you realize, you don’t have the ring on yet. “oh fuck which hand is it?!” your brain is so frazzled, you just stick both hands out toward him.

joe gently grabs your left hand, ring perfectly slipping onto your ring finger. he admires it for a moment and places a kiss on your knuckles.

he’s standing up straight for less than a second before you’re pouncing on him, throwing your arms around him. you pull his neck down toward you, crashing your lips together in a bruising kiss.

joe returns your affection quickly. hands find home holding your face, thumbs dusting away tears. this kiss is different than any you’ve had in the past. it’s a seal. a promise. a sign of your devotion to one another deepening after tonight.

the two of you stay like that for a moment. so caught up in one another. the anticipation of a lifetime together makes you feel as light as a feather.

the two of you break away with sharp inhales, crisp air filling your lungs. you remove your hands from his neck, instead grabbing his in your own and giving a laugh at their state, “babe. you’re shaking.”

joe nods, tongue darting out to lick his lips. he gives your hands a squeeze. “yeah well. good thing i got you to keep me steady.”

the ride back to the hotel is full of giggles and light touches. the ring on your finger is like a magnet to your eyes. you can’t look away, even as joe is extra affectionate; kissing all over your cheek and the side of your neck. you’re so full of love it feels hard to breathe.

“hey joey?”

your boyfriend fiancée pulls his head back to look you in the eyes, “yeah, pretty?”

you put your now ring clad hand on joe’s chest. he looks down at it with a smirk, before meeting your eyes once again.

“what do you think about that backless suit for the wedding?”

[toiletclown]

numb, but i still feel it. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

spencer agnew x f!reader

angst/miscommuncation with a happy ending :3

summary: when your feelings start to be too much, you pull back. but is the pain of being away from spencer any better than the pain of telling him how you feel?

word count: 5.5k

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Hey, Y/N, did you want to get food after work? I’ve been craving a triple dipper from Chili’s,” Spencer asked his best friend. 

“Oh, sorry, Spen. I have plans tonight. Maybe some time next week?” She replied, face stoic. She started messing around on her phone, and the space between them grew just a bit wider. Spencer had to force himself not to focus on it.

“Oh. Sure, no problem.” He walked back to his pod, dejected.

That was how it started. She stopped seeing him as much outside of work, then suddenly wasn’t scheduled for games shoots for a week or two. And when she was on a games shoot, their usual bouncy, spitfire interactions just weren’t the same. They had been on a livestream together earlier in the week, with Shayne and Amanda. He didn’t check the chat or comments on that one. Spencer already knew what they said.

Week after week, texts went unanswered, or answered days later. She wasn’t present around the office. Spencer was hurting, but he didn’t know who he could talk to about it. For two months now, their dynamic had become entirely different. And he didn’t know what the fuck he did. If he even did do anything.

He was tired of being tossed to the side, feeling discarded. Y/N had been his best friend for more than five years now, and he hadn’t seen her outside of work in months. He knew he had to talk to someone about it.

After some internal struggle, Spencer decided Courtney was his best bet. Angela was closer with Y/N, but Angela would also be biased. Not that he could blame her, he was biased in Y/N’s favor more often than not, too. It was hard not to be. She was magnetic, her energy addicting. He missed her. Courtney would be more pragmatic, and give some better advice. No shade to Ang, she was a great friend, but he couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t say something to Y/N that would derail their friendship further, unfortunately.

Once Y/N had left for the day, Spencer creeped around the office, trying to catch Court before they left.

“Court! Can I steal you for a second?” He yelled, running after Courtney. They were clearly on their way out, and he needed to talk to them today. She turned around, seemingly surprised to see Spencer. 

“Oh! Hey, Spence. Yeah, can I meet you in your pod in like five minutes?” They were fiddling with their necklace, a nervous habit, and Spencer pretended not to notice. He nodded and made his way to the kitchen to grab a Kickstart. Y/N had already left for the day, and Spencer knew he wouldn’t be able to talk to Courtney if she were still in the building. She’d sense it somehow and find him spilling the metaphorical beans and ruin whatever chance he had at salvaging this.

After standing around in the kitchen for a moment, slightly procrastinating the conversation, he went back to his pod to find Courtney already there. “Oh, hey, I must’ve lost track of time, my bad.”

Courtney stood and walked over to Spencer, putting a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Spence, I love you, but if you’re going to ask me anything related to Y/N, I would really prefer not to get in the middle.”

Spencer deflated, confused. “Uh, can I ask what you mean by that?” His eyes shifted around, ensuring no one was in the hallway or near the door. He didn’t want whatever was happening to be overheard.

“Well, I know you two are, like, going through it right now, I guess. I don’t want to get involved… I don’t want to… take sides or whatever.”

Now he was even more confused. “I wasn’t aware that we were going through it… or that sides were needed?”

Courtney led Spencer to sit down so they could be a little more clear. They didn’t want to hurt Spencer’s feelings, but she might have to be a little mean if it meant getting her point across.

“Spencer. We’ve all noticed something going on with you two. If you two are going to break up we just want it to be amicable, we all love you both so much that–”

“Break up?” Spencer cut them off, his confusion surpassing a new level. “What the fuck do you mean, break up?”

“Well, we don’t want you to! But if that’s where it’s heading–”

“Courtney! Me and Y/N aren’t even dating?” Spencer’s face flushed without his consent.

“But you told us all months ago that you wanted to ask her out… and then you both were so different after a week or two that we all kind of thought you were just toning it down to be, you know, professional.” Courtney looked embarrassed, but so did Spencer.

“Oh, my god.” Spencer was horrified. “No, we are not dating, I still haven’t asked her out or, or even told her how I feel.”

“Well, I guess I can tell Shayne to stop worrying now. He thought you were, like, keeping the relationship and hot goss from him. You know how much he loves love.” Courtney smiled fondly.

Spencer felt extremely nauseous. “No, of course I would be telling him everything. But there’s nothing to tell. And I wanted to talk to you because I’m starting to get worried that there never will be anything to tell. She’s pulled back a lot and I don’t know what I did wrong or what happened. I was hoping you’d be able to give me some insight.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm brewing in his head and his stomach. “It’s like, everything was fine. And then randomly, out of nowhere, it wasn’t. But as far as I can remember, we didn’t have a fight. I can’t think of anything I could have done to upset her like this, and I’m willing to apologize for whatever it is but…” He let out a sigh, “It’s like she’s a different person now. She won’t text me back, or she’ll respond days and days later with some shitty excuse. She’s not on that many games shoots anymore and when she is, she doesn’t seem to want to interact with me. I just want to fix this. My feelings for her aside, I miss my best friend, dude.”

Courtney wrapped Spencer in a hug, knowing that physical touch in moments like this always helped. Something she had actually learned from Y/N. After a soft pat on the back, they pulled apart. “Honey, I’m so sorry. We all misread the situation. I hope you don’t think we were uncaring, or that we didn’t want to help. We all knew something was up, honestly, you both wear your hearts on your sleeves. But we thought that it was more of a personal, relationship issue than… this. I’m so sorry, babe. Tell ya what, me, Ang, and Amanda will have a bestie’s night with her and see what we can figure out. Sound good?” 

Spencer nodded, wiping a small tear that threatened to escape his eye. 

“I can’t promise I’ll be the best double agent, depending on what I find out. But I’ll see what I can do. I know you love her, Spencer. We’ll get this sorted, okay?” Courtney gave Spencer a little pat on the head, and he left the conversation feeling a bit better. 

//

“Y/NNNNNNNN!” Angela called down the hall, searching for her friend. “Yo, Shayne. Have you seen Y/N?” 

Shayne shrugged his shoulders, “Haven’t seen her all day. Did she call off?”

“You’re no help!” She replied, letting him walk away.

Alex Tran then turned the corner into the little lunch area, and Angela decided to accost them next. “Alex! Where’s Y/N?”

“Uh, I don’t know? I thought she called out today.” 

“What the fuck.” Angela took her phone out, immediately texting her.

yo where tf are u??? did u call out alex said u called out??

Angela then took a seat, a little out of breath from running around the Smoffice looking for her bestie. Luckily her phone vibrated nearly immediately.

yea sorry i got a lil stomach bug :/ hoping it’s a 24 hr thing bc i feel like ASS!!

“Okay she has a stomach bug everyone! Calm down!” Angela yelled, as though the lunch room was, a) populated and b) interested. She was interested.

stomach bug, eh? what’d you eat? spencer’s ass?

ANGELA???

what i’m curious sue me

i did not eat spencer’s ass. i had some leftover chinese food that might have been a little too left over. iykwim. be nice to me it’s coming out both ends!!

ok that’s tmi i fear

you just asked me if i ate my best friend’s ass

i asked if u ate spencer’s ass not mine <3

i fear after this convo u have been demoted to second best friend sorry queen </3

i’ll be over with some meds n soup after this shoot. u will forgive me then.

maybe.

After Angela finished her conversation with Y/N, she hopped over to the games set to do a quick livestream. It was slated to be an hour, but she silently hoped it ended a little earlier. After Courtney told her and Amanda that something weird was going on between Y/N and Spencer, she knew she had to sneak attack before the real attack. They had scheduled a bestie’s night out on Friday, and it was Wednesday. All three of them accosting Y/N at once wasn’t ideal, and she knew Y/N would clam up if she wasn’t eased into it, so she told Courtney and Amanda she would try and get some intel one-on-one first.

As Angela walked onto set, Alex informed her that he was swapping out for her in the stream, so she could head out whenever she wanted. They had winked when they told her this, so Ang could only assume this was a joint effort that he was in on. Good to hear.

She made her rounds to say goodbye and make sure she didn’t have any other tasks to finish that day, and confirmed with Ian and Anthony that she could head out. Once she was all good to go, Angela texted Y/N to let her know she was picking up food and then would be on her way.

//

You were laying in bed, curled up under the covers trying to come up with an excuse. Why did you have to say it was a stomach bug? You should be able to be open and honest with your friends. After a nice deep sigh, you got up and put on some sweats and a t-shirt, knowing Angela would arrive in mere minutes.

You grabbed a Red Bull from your fridge, needing a kick of energy. You should text Spencer. He had messaged you about an hour before, just to say he hopes you feel better. Damn your lie. You opened the text thread with him, looking at your frankly embarrassing lack of responses or late replies. He deserved better than that. That was the problem, though, wasn’t it? He deserved a better friend. And a fantastic partner. And you knew that he didn’t want that, despite how badly you did.

The feelings you had been harboring for Spencer were getting to a point you couldn’t deny them anymore. You’d been pushing them down since that very first day, and your heart was hurting. A lot.

– Five years ago –

You walked into the office, head held high despite your anxiety. You wanted to make a good impression, and you weren’t letting your brain get in the way of that. You couldn’t. Greeted by a man a few inches taller than you, though not by much, you felt oddly at peace right away. He had glasses and little tattoos decorating his forearms, and his curly brown hair was wisping to and fro under a hat with the Smosh logo across it. 

“Hey, are you Y/N?” He asked, and you nodded silently, finding yourself at a loss for words. “I’m Spencer. I’ll be sitting in on your interview. I help out on the games channel and edit here and there.” His smile was bright, and you felt yourself returning it.

“Oh, cool. Uh, I think I’m supposed to be meeting with Ian?” You said, despite him clearly already knowing this information.

He smiled again, and your stomach fluttered without your permission. The calm feeling that came over you was certainly reassuring, but if your body kept reacting to this random man like this, you were expecting a few problems in your future.

“Yeah, we’re meeting right down the hall here. I’ll take you over but then I’m going to run to the kitchen to grab a Kickstart. Ian should already be in there anyway, and he’s definitely going to appreciate your timeliness.” Spencer glanced at the watch on his wrist, seeming to mentally note that you were around five minutes early. Truthfully, you had arrived twenty minutes before your actual interview, but you didn’t want to be that early. After sitting in your car and listening to some music to relax, you had made your way in with eight minutes to spare. You got a little caught up at the door and the very kind and conversational woman at the desk, but still managed to be early.

You nodded again, and followed Spencer down the hall to a meeting room that was spacious but cozy. The man sitting at the head of the table – Ian, you assumed – smiled and stood as you entered.

“Hey, Spencer.” He walked to meet you both at the entrance, and he held his hand out to shake. “And you must be Y/N! I’m Ian Hecox, we spoke over email.” 

You shook his hand, introducing yourself and thanking him for the opportunity. 

Spencer told Ian he’d be right back, and you and Ian grabbed seats at the table. “I see you’ve met Spencer! He works on the games channel, but he’s lined up for a promotion to director of games so I asked him to sit in on the interview just so he’d be comfortable when he actually had to start interviewing people himself.”

“He’s very nice! He made me feel welcome right away.” You were lightly fidgeting under the table, anxiety coming back now that Spencer had left. 

You and Ian got to talking about your past experiences – improv with Groundlings, two one-woman plays at Dynasty Typewriter, and some script work here and there at small entertainment companies. You had applied for cast but told Ian you’d be fine behind the scenes as well, hoping to have a shot at one or the other and emphasizing your willingness to wear multiple hats.

Soon, Spencer returned and shut the door behind him, sitting across from you at the table with Kickstart in hand.

After the interview, Ian had called you personally a mere hour afterwards to tell you he was impressed with your resume and interview and wanted to bring you on. You’d start doing some script work, and then would transition to cast full-time if you liked it. You were ecstatic, but couldn’t help but be even more excited at the concept of getting to know Spencer better.

Unfortunately, by the end of the interview you could already tell you were developing a work crush on Spencer. You’d had them before, and you’d kept yourself in check. You could do it again, right?

Five years later, you weren’t so sure.

//

You were pulled out of your reverie by your Ring doorbell going off. You knew it was Angela because she also knocked afterwards, the same catchy little knock she always did. You took another sip of your Red Bull and ventured to your door, pulling it open and giving Ang a hug.

“Well, you don’t look all that shitty, considering you’re apparently shitting your brains out and puking them up as well. Spill, bitch,” was her only form greeting as she came into your apartment and sat the little soup containers on the counter. She turned around and glared at you, but there was no real venom in it. Angela could see through you like nobody else, even Spencer. He understood you in a way that was different, for sure, but you could never lie or even lightly fib to Ang without her immediately calling you on it.

Another sigh escaped you, and you sat on your couch to get into it. “Where should I start? Actually, tell me your hypothesis and I’ll go from there.”

Angela scooted up close to you, leaning her head on your shoulder. You were big on physical touch, and she somehow always knew what you needed. “You’re in love with Spencer and having trouble coming to terms with it because you think he doesn’t return your feelings so you’ve been silently freaking out for probably two months because you hate talking about your feelings even though I’m your best friend and know exactly what you’re feeling at all times even when you try to hide it from me.”

“You didn’t take a breath for that whole sentence, you know,” was your only response.

She poked your thigh, “Don’t deflect.”

You rolled your eyes, affectionate in every way, because you couldn’t be mad when she was fucking right. Because of course she was. “Is it deflection if you already know you’re correct, you demon? Yes, you’re spot the fuck on, as always. Jesus.” You laid your head on the back of the couch, trying to remain calm. “I don’t know what the fuck to do. I can’t hide this shit anymore, and it’s getting to a point where it’s interfering with my work, clearly. I know he doesn’t feel the same – I can’t even give myself hope that he does because, like, I feel like he would have told me at this point, you know? We’re always honest with each other, occasionally too honest, and I find it hard to believe he’d be able to keep that from me. He’s an open book, and I can read him like you can read me. I don’t know. I’ve been feeling lost about it, I guess.”

Angela let you get your feelings out, awkward pauses and teary eyes given grace because she’s always good to you. But then she laughed. A deep, rumbling laugh from the depths of her soul. Which hurt a little bit.

“Why the fuck are you laughing at me? I’m emotional, be nice, you freak!” You laughed beside yourself, because even though it did hurt a little bit, you know her intentions were golden.

“Y/N, you idiot. Walk me through your thought process here. Why do you think he doesn’t return your feelings, seriously. I want an explanation.”

“Like I said! He hasn’t said anything! I’ve just been pushing him away because that’s easier than being near him, Angela, it hurts to be next to him knowing I can never kiss him or tell him what I’m really feeling. I want to do everything with him. I want to carpool to work with him, I want to go to dinner with him and cook food for him, I want to go on Kickstart runs with him and try to understand why the fuck he drinks that shit when Red Bull exists. I want to understand him, inside and out. I want him, in every sense. And if he wanted all that too, he would have told me by now!” You were tired of keeping everything inside, and you knew Angela wouldn’t sugarcoat anything or lead you astray. 

Ang grabbed your hands, rubbing her thumbs against the backs of them – your favorite form of physical comfort from her. “Babe, I’m quite literally going to hold your hand when I tell you this. You’re way too in your head about this. Step back, take a deep breath, and try to see his perspective. You haven’t told him anything either, and now you’re ignoring him and doing your best to not be anywhere near him. How is he supposed to interpret that? How could he be honest with you about his feelings when you won’t even text the poor man back? What if he was gearing himself up for it, finally ready to be open, and then you pull back so far he doesn’t feel like it’s a good idea to tell you?”

After a few deep breaths on your part, and a nice inhale on Angela’s, you started calming down. “Well, yeah, I guess. But what makes you think he returns my feelings? What gave you that inclination?”

“I’ve been in an office with you five days a week for two years. And my eyes work. With or without my glasses. Y/N, I’m not trying to push you or stress you out, and I’m also not trying to tell you how Spencer feels. Only he knows what he’s feeling, but I know what I see. The way he looks at you, the way his smile fades just the slightest bit when you leave the room, the way he tailors his jokes to make you laugh the hardest, not even trying to make jokes that would land for anyone else. I can’t tell you that Spencer returns your feelings, but I can tell you that I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest if he did. You need to let him in, and even though you don’t have to tell him how you’re feeling right away, you need to be more honest with him. He’s your best friend, and even if he somehow, in some extremely strange turn of events, doesn’t feel the same, I don’t think that he’s going to cut you off for loving him.” She punctuated her sentence with a hug and a kiss to your forehead.

“Can I have some soup?” You whispered, tears threatening to spill.

“Do you deserve soup? You are a liar. I don’t think liars deserve soup,” Angela replied, despite standing to grab the containers. You laughed, grateful for her lack of seriousness, and grabbed a tissue from your end table to dab at your eyes. 

She brought over the containers, setting them on the coffee table and handing you some napkins and a spoon. “Everything will be okay, honey. But you have to talk to Spencer, and soon. Can you promise me you’ll text him today? Even just to say hi. Like I said, you don’t have to tell him everything right away. But you can’t keep pushing him away, okay?” 

“Okay.”

After some soup and an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine, Angela headed out after nudging your phone closer to you. You nodded, and gave her a hug once you thanked her for her time and the soup. 

You put a record on, some random piano and instrumental album Spencer had gifted you after he found it at the thrift shop. Sinking into the couch once more, you muscled up the nerve to pick up your phone.

Angela had sent you a text encouraging you once more, and you sent some hearts in return. Opening the text thread with Spencer, your single pinned conversation in the messaging app, you took a deep breath and started typing.

hey bug. are u free?

His response was immediate, almost alarmingly so. You knew his phone was on do not disturb, but you also knew that you came through all his different DND modes. 

yeah what’s up?

can you come over? i miss you

omw love

The fast responses were a bit anxiety-inducing, and you realized you should probably make yourself a little more presentable. Making your way to the bathroom, Find My Friends app open and live-updating, you brushed your hair out and changed into one of Spencer’s shirts you stole however many years ago. You tossed on some pants, not wanting to be in sweats when you knew you were probably going to spill your guts as soon as he knocked on your door. Some mascara also probably wouldn’t hurt, but the Find My Friends app informed you that he wasn’t far away. Plus, you didn’t expect to make it out of this conversation without tears.

Spencer had to have been speeding with how quickly he got to your apartment. LA traffic was no joke, but it didn’t seem like he had encountered any somehow. When you first checked his location after texting him, you saw he was at the office, so you wondered what he told Ian and Anthony to be able to leave so quickly. 

You had finally managed to calm yourself down, and then he was in your apartment’s little entry alcove. You had given him a key as soon as you got the place. He hadn’t asked, but you were given two keys and knew if you needed him for anything he’d be over quicker than anyone else.

“Hey,” you whispered, taken aback by his natural beauty. He was wearing his glasses, which you secretly preferred. They suited him so well, and they made his eyes just a bit brighter. 

Spencer walked over to you, wrapping you in a hug with absolutely no hesitance. You appreciated that about him – no matter what was going on in either of your heads, you could always count on him to give you a hug when he saw you for the first time in a while.

“Hi, love.” He placed a small and quiet kiss on the top of your head, something he had been doing for years at this point, but it almost hurt a little bit this time. You were beginning to worry again. How could you deal with not having that physical affection if this went badly? “Get out of your head, Y/N. What’s going on, just talk to me, please.”

You both relaxed onto the couch, mere centimeters apart, as always. The strongest gods to exist couldn’t pull him away from you.

“I’m really sorry, bug. I’ve been shitty.” You looked down at your hands, decades-old habit of fidgeting with your thumbnail returning with a quickness. Spencer put his hand on yours, knowing you’d pick at your skin if he didn’t intervene. God, you really loved this man. “I’ve been pushing you away because I’ve been having my own internal issues, and that’s unfair to you, and I’m sorry. I’ve been a bad friend, but I want you to know it’s not your fault in the slightest. You know I tend to bottle stuff up, and I’m sorry I haven’t been honest.”

Spencer put his arm around you, pulling you ever-closer to him. You rested your head on his shoulder, a mirror of you and Angela a mere thirty minutes prior. Tears started falling, and you didn’t try to stop them. You had to let it out, holding it in wouldn’t do any good. Yeah, Angela tried to reinforce that you didn’t need to tell Spencer everything right away, but talking about it with her helped enough that you were confident now. It was time.

“Spence,” you started, looking up at him through your lashes. “I love you, you know that, right?”

He smiled, brighter than the sun, “Of course. I love you, too, Y/N.” 

“Yeah, but I’m not entirely sure you love me the way I love you.” You looked away at this point, unable to hold eye contact when you knew you were about to let far too many words fall out of your mouth. “Five years ago when I walked into that office and you greeted me, I was so, so anxious. Your presence immediately calmed me down, and I honestly knew then and there that I was fucked. You were just so kind, and in the interview you asked questions that made me feel like I’d known you my whole life. We fit together like two strange little puzzle pieces, and I’ve felt this way since that day. I’m so fucking in love with you, Spencer. It’s killing me. I don’t expect you to return my feelings and I promise, although it might hurt a little bit at first, I really, really don’t want us to go our separate ways. But I can’t keep this inside anymore.”

You took a breath, steeling your nerves. “I want to do everything with you, and I want to be everything to you. I’m head over heels over ass over dick in love with you, and it’s driving me crazy. I tried pulling away, I thought it might help the feelings fade. But I just feel like a dick, since that’s what I’ve been for months at this point. I’m really sorry, I was trying to preserve my own sanity but I didn’t take your feelings into account and that’s unfair and shitty. I can’t say that I love you and then treat you how I’ve been treating you. I hope you can forgive me for how I’ve been acting. And above all, I hope you can forgive me for loving you. I can’t make it stop, but I promise I won’t hold anything against you. And I promise I’ll be a better friend.”

You finally separated from his side, grabbing yet another tissue to dry your face before daring to look at him. When you did finally turn your attention to Spencer, he was silently crying too.

“Y/N, you wouldn’t believe how happy I am to hear that. I’ve not been fair to you either, and I promise I’m not upset and I don’t hold anything against you. I’d be extremely hypocritical if I did.”

You were quiet, hoping he’d continue to elaborate. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, you needed to hear it from him. You needed him to say it.

When Spencer realized you weren’t going to respond, he gave you what you silently asked for. Always a mindreader, him. “I love you too, Y/N, and I have loved you just as long. When I saw you all those years ago, my heart started racing, and I thought I was having a stroke.” A quiet laugh escaped him, reminiscing on that fateful day. “You were effortlessly gorgeous, and you held yourself so confidently. I’ve been gone for you since that day, so no, I’m not upset. I’ve been meaning to tell you, too, but right when I finally decided to nut up, you started pushing me away. I got super paranoid that you had somehow realized how I felt and were, like, grossed out and decided to distance yourself. But I love you too, I have for years, and I will continue to do so for the rest of my life. It’s been you for five years, and it’s always going to be you. I can promise you that.” 

He had been holding your gaze the whole time he spoke, and you could tell he was being a hundred percent genuine. All your anxiety dissipated and was replaced with a burning happiness deep in your veins.

Feeling all too bold, you quickly asked, “Can I kiss you?” 

His response came in the form of soft lips on yours, no pressure, no rush. Just… bliss.

You started to lay back on the couch, bringing him down with you, until you were both wrapped up in each other, lazily kissing like you had all the time in the world. And it felt like you did – time had stopped entirely and the only real, tangible thing in this universe was Spencer. 

It was easy, falling into this. But it had been easy all along, you had just made it hard because you were scared. And Spencer didn’t hold that against you, he understood better than anyone. When he did finally pull back, your smiles were both so wide you knew your cheekbones would be hurting come morning. All you could do was thank him. For the kiss, for his compassion, for his forgiveness. For returning your feelings, and not judging you for being a shithead for two months. For giving you the time and space you needed to pull your head out of your ass. Spencer wasn’t having any of it, of course.

You knew there was a conversation that needed to be had, about what this friendship or relationship was now, and how you were going to navigate this change. But that could wait. You had forever, hopefully, and you knew Spencer would give you any time you needed. 

That’s why you love him, after all – he understands you better than anyone, and he had more patience than anyone else you’d met. 

You weren’t exactly looking forward to getting off this couch and moving forward, to be honest. You just wanted to stay in this moment and in Spencer’s arms, his lips on yours and his hands on your waist. But life waits for no one, and after all, Spencer was in your life, for good. You weren’t worried about the future, per se, but you had been waiting more than 1800 days for this, and you were planning on savoring it for as long as you possibly could.

You had a feeling Spencer did, too.

//

told you!!!!!! send me all the deets when he finally leaves xoxo gossip ang

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

another fic in the books who fuckin cheered!! i hope u enjoyed pls leave feedback if u feel so inclined... i love u!

[inf3ct3dd]

loser!ellie headcanons pt.6

summary: ellieeee my chiquitita my baby my love

warnings: none :3

authors note: ik yall missed herrrr

masterlist. help palestine.🇵🇸

- ellie tries to be soooo cool and wear her cool people jackets (leather jackets, canvas, those carhartt hoodie jackets etc) but they’re very not helpful against the cold and you’ll be out with her and shes just SHIVERING the whole time…

- she’s obsessed w those “general knowledge quizzes” on tiktok. that girl is a hoe for trivia she’s sitting on her bed at three in the morning saying her answers OUT LOUD while she watches them. she gets so upset when she gets literally any wrong… “man…im not a quiz master 🙁”

- ik in the games she walks around with her little journal and shit but i feel like shes definitely jus constantly typing shit in her notes app… random thoughts and jokes and shit that she most definitely shows you at the end of the day

- she barely ever baby talks to babies… she’ll go up to a baby and just be like “wassup dude” and have a full blown conversation with him while the babies just sitting there babbling and giggling at her

- thinks those “im nothing like yall” slideshows r so hilarious…. like you’ll be on the couch and she’s just giggling at her phone at paracetamol 😞

- references the most niche memes ever constantly and literally googles them to explain herself. you guys went camping and she said “boy you want hot dog” and you were like ????

- so strangely particular about how her stuff is arranged 😭 her desk looks like an absolute hot mess 90% of the time but SHE UNDERSTANDS IT and if u try and organize it for her she just puts it back how it was

- always says “guys” and “yall” when she’s talking to literally one person. and CHAT. she just constantly adds it into conversation like “chat how are you today”

- loves asking if things are “fire.” she’ll cook you something and you take a bite and shes like “is that shit fire???” she has to know

- obsessed with “i barely know her” jokes. the second someone says something ending in er shes like “rider??? i barely know her!!” and she’s laughing her ass off

- that girl will go HAM on some mac and cheese. but it can only be really good baked mac or the shitty kraft mac and cheese. she puts like- hella pepper and red chili flakes in it and eats it straight out of the pot 🔥 its always at like three in the morning and you just walk in the kitchen to her with a pot in her lap watching glee or some shit

- SPEAKING. OF. glee is most definitely one of her guilty pleasure shows…like shes rewatched it a million times and glee cast was one of her top artists on apple music wrapped

- shes an apple music user. send tweet.

- got yelled at by an old lady once cuz she picked her flowers out of her front yard and gave them to you

- when i tell you that girl goes ham on those tiny clementines… she’ll eat like 10 in one day and theres just PEELS. EVERYWHERE.

- also she fw grapes heavy. especially green grapes (shes a weird little freak red grapes are so much better)

- OBSESSED WITH THOSE BLIND BAG SHITS. especially mini brands oh my god she definitely has the whole lil grocery store set and she’s so obsessed with it.

- her house slippers are definitely just a pair of crocs with the fur inside and a bunch of stupid ass jibbits. she buys the mega packs off amazon and changes them whenever shes bored

- has SO MANY drafts on tiktok and they’re all her trying filters staring at the screen like 😯

- most annoying person to sleep next to ever . snoring, sleep talking, moving around CONSTANTLY and hitting you accidentally, the only way she sleeps peacefully is if you’re holding her or she’s holding you, otherwise shes insane

- weirdly into linguistics…that girl is using humongous words for no good reason just for fun and half the time she has no idea what they mean and when she googles them and shes right about the definition she does that little fist pump and “fuck yes”

- speaking of. that girl is SPEEDRUNNING DUOLINGO . she’s fluent in (bad spaniard) spanish from it, and just learns random languages for fun. you speak a different language? she’s learning it immediately. definitely leaves notes for you in random languages she learned and you have to pull out a translator to understand wtf shes talking about… she also sleep talks in spanish sometimes and its so funny

- loves trying out different recipes…like i said my girl is a CHEF she will be at home fucking up a salmon bake she made and making you homemade pho for dinner

- had a phase when she was younger when she was really into the la bamba movie and dressed like richie valens for two years

- also cried so hard when she watched selena with you…that girl was devastated 💔 every time she hears “dreaming of you” she almost sheds a tear

“when that yolanda bitch gets out of prison….im shooting someone . its obvious who its gonna be.”

- she definitely begged joel to buy her a gun for christmas and he would take her to the range all the time so she can SHOOT. that girl is goated at lazer tag she gets down…does not play

- thought that candy cigarettes were the coolest thing ever when she was little… everywhere she went she had one hanging out of the side of her mouth and shed hold them between her fingers like they do in movies. if you two go to a candy shop shes for sure buying a pack

[werwersbb]

I know the puppy is actually lost😢, but I still want to play this meme.

Bernese Mountain Dog! Carlos

Some unimportant follow-up, after Carlos turning back into a human.

Carlos: So, dog or cat?

Charles: Is that a question you need to ask?Everyone knows the answer.

Carlos: Just answer the question.

Charles: ......

Charles:...You know you could just ask me to say I like you, instead of using this roundabout way.

Carlos: I like roundabout way.

Charles: And I like you.

Never forget what 55 said to 16: Have you tried the chili crab? ...I am the chili crab.

Do you want 16 to try you so much?

I love chatting, please ask me questions 🥺

[studyblr-perhaps]

Updated Intro Post!

It's been over a year and a half (I think) since my previous intro post, and now that I am in my 4th (and final) year of undergrad, I wanted to make a new intro post because there are a lot of changes?

Name: Misa Pronouns: she/they Age: 21 Major: Physics

🖤After undergrad, I plan to go into experimental physics, probably towards condensed matter and hopefully somewhere along superconductivity? Idk whichever is feasible. But experimental.

🖤For now I'm letting my life take it's course, hopefully I can get into colleges abroad, so fingers crossed.

🖤I like science, humanities and definitely literature. I like culture and studying about my own and different cultures, languages and customs. I also really like sweets!

🖤Unlike the usual known Indian tastes, I come from a region with more chilies than spices, so I despise dishes with excessive spices (y'all our broth is mostly clear, wtf even is a curry-). I also dislike studying for and giving tests.

🖤My hobbies include drawing, dancing, writing, reading, journalling, crocheting, learning languages, flexing

🖤Few unrelated facts about me: I am left handed, I can fluently speak three languages- English, Hindi and Nepali and understand spoken Bengali, my aunts' houses and my own are filled with framed art pieces by me (this is a flex, yes)

I am always down to chat! So if you want to ask about physics, stem, advice on the education system, RANT about the education system (esp Indian), or just gossip, my dms are always open!

[baby-yongbok]

chili.. tell me you have seen it… as a fellow seungbias how are we feeling about the wkorea shoot? because im crashing out. i’m acting up. i’m ready to risk it all just for hands and a lil bit of skin smh! down bad, down horrendous really.

~ clover

When I tell you I screamed. I scrumpt. Loud enough to concern my family. The gasp that came from me should be studied by science. Just that little "guess who" trailer W korea posted had me GAGGED and now this?? Unfair. I pray for our sanity.

[supernova41st]

Detention

(Pico x Reader)

Warnings: School fight, blood, bruising, bullying, swearing, EVERYONE gets their ass beat

A/n: This is based off a ao3 fic that I liked but also hated cuz it had 🍇.. I didn’t read the tags pls. Anyways I’m rlly proud of this fic ha so enjoy

You felt so stupid, you never thought that you’d get into such dumb fights for such dumb reasons. Now you’re stuck in an empty classroom, with two idiots you just finished fighting with. All covered in either blood or bruises, the fuck happened?

Third pov:

Another average morning at school. The hallways were full of teens either walking to class or having a quick chat with their friends.

However, Pico and Darnell had other plans. The two boys were in the middle of a brawl, one in one side of the hallway, and the other in-well the other. All of the students stopped whatever they were doing to watch the two, cheering ‘fight!fight!fight!’, Y/n had been in the middle of the two, trying to grab some books from their locker. They were completely unaware of the fight that they were basically in the middle of since they had their earbuds plugged in on max volume

As y/n went in to grab on of their books, Pico reaches in to grab it from their hands and throw it at Darnell. “Dude!” Y/n yells, raising their hands a bit. Pico ignores them, realizing that he missed the first throw. In a panic, he grabs y/n’s iPod from their hands and pelts it at Darnell’s face.

Y/n gasps and runs towards their dear iPod to try saving it from the fight, but before they can even get near it, Darnell accidentally steps on the screen while getting up. Y/n stops in their tracks, jaw open and eyes widened. They were too late. They quickly look back at Pico, who was getting his ass absolutely handed to him by Darnell, and decides that he’s gonna have to pay for that thing, and not with money.

Once Pico knocks Darnell out on the floor for a bit, y/n tackles him. “What the fuck??” The confused ginger yells while y/n grabs him by his hair and stuffs his head in their open locker. ‘Oh fuck’ and ‘holy shit’s are heard from the audience of students watching as they prepare for what’s about to happen. Suddenly, a bang comes from the locker door and Pico’s head, as y/n slams the door shut with his head stuffed inside. They then do it again, and again, until her arms eventually get tired, and they notice Darnell getting up.

Darnell seems confused at first, until he realizes that he stepped on their iPod. Shit, now he has another opponent. Before he knows it, him and y/n are both giving each other bruises and bloody noses, fists flying everywhere. At least until a few teacher make their way out of the crowd, and quickly separate the three.

Now, y/n is sitting in the third row of some desks in a classroom, while both Pico and Darnell sit behind her. The room is filled with nothing but silence, Pico laying his head on the desk, seemingly asleep. Y/n on the other hand, wasn’t doing much. They didn’t have any homework, nor were they feeling sleepy, so they just had their elbows on the table, holding their head from falling. I mean, what else was there to do? Use their iPod? ..wait

Darnell, sitting behind her, puts his feet up on the top of y/n’s chair, getting dirt in their hair. Now, normally y/n would ask them to stop, or even tell the teacher, but at this point, they didn’t feel like getting anymore trouble for anything else. So they just tried their best to ignore him. Darnell chuckles at their ‘reaction’, then going back to playing with his lighter.

“Darnell!” Mr Roger’s yells, “Do I need to put you in another classroom?” He asks rhetorically. Darnell groans in annoyance, “no sir..” he mumbles. Mr Roger’s sighs, “Darnell, why don’t you just, go get me some papers from the printing room.” Mr Roger’s says waving his hands in a shooing motion, Darnell clicks his tongue, clearly pissed. But he still gets up to go do as he says.

Y/n feels a wave of relief, that Darnell’s dirty shoes aren’t stuffed in their hair anymore. But as soon as they finally find peace, it’s quickly interrupted a paper ball being thrown at them. Out of curiosity, they pick up the paper ball and unwrap it, because of course they did.

“Whats ur name?”

Was written in some shitty Sharpie that Pico found on the floor. He couldn’t find a pencil or even a paper since his backpack was a mess, so he just wrote on his homework that was past due a week ago. Y/n looks back at Pico, who’s head was down as if nothing had happen, they rolled their eyes at the freckled boy. They then look down at the paper, wondering if they should write back or not. Eh, why not.

“Y/n”

Y/n waits until the teacher at the front of the class averts his gaze to something else, throwing the ball back to the ginger. Pico tucks it under his elbow, his head still down. Suddenly, y/n’s heart drops when she hears Mr Roger’s chair creak as he gets up. “I’m gonna go check on Darnell. You two, stay silent.”

As soon as Mr Roger’s steps out of the classroom, a voice is heard from behind y/n. “Sorry that I threw your thing, y/n..” Pico mutters shamefully, y/n looks back at the injured boy. His lip looked busted, and he had bruises around his cheek. Y/n cringes at the sight of his injuries, injuries that they did. “It’s fine.. sorry about the locker.” Pico chuckles at y/n’s apology, shaking his head.

“I uhh, got you something, Yknow, for your lip.” Y/n grabs a cold can of monster from under their desk. Then handing it to pico. “You can drink it too if you want it” Pico grabs the cold drink from their hands, and places it on his bruised cheek. “What song were you listening to anyways? Must’ve been somethin’ pretty loud” He laughs. Y/n blushes a bit in embarrassment of what her answer is, “oh just.. break stuff by limp bizkit”

Pico’s eyes lighten up at her answer, “no fuckin’ way! I love bizkit!!” He smiles, “Lemme guess, your favorite album is significant other?” Y/n laughs, “no, it’s chocolate starfish..”

Pico cracks the can of Monster open, taking a couple of painful sips since his lip was busted. “Your nose still has blood on it by the way” Pico points out, y/n tapping blood that was on their upper lip, seeing dried blood. “Shit.. I don’t have anything to wipe it with” They mutter staring at the dry blood on their finger. “I got some water, gimme a sec” Pico grabs his backpack, and pulls out his water bottle and a crinkle napkin from some fast food place. He begins to pour a little water on the napkin, and makes the ‘come here’ motion with his hand to y/n.

Once y/n scoots closer, bringing their chair with them, he grabs the side of their jaw lightly, moving them closer. Pico wipes the dry blood from y/n’s upper lip. Y/n looks around the room, trying to not stare into picos green eyes, but they eventually fail. The two make eye contact, their faces only an inch or two away from each other. Not knowing what to say about the awkward interaction, she decides to compliment him, because of course they did. “Your hairs really.. pretty” Y/n whispers, “what?” Pico responds, quite confused at the feminine compliment.

“Hey!”

The two heads snap at the door, where Mr Roger’s, along with Darnell, stood. “What did I say about talking?” Darnell chuckles at the state the two were in, “oh shit! Were you two about to kiss?” Darnell laughs, pointing at the two. Pico and y/n both look back at each other, realizing that their current position wasn’t the most.. platonic. Pico and y/n quickly move back to their desks, red faced, rambling about how gross it’d be to even be near each other

“Pfft, whatever you say, lovebirds.” Pico scoffs “fuck you Darnell.” “Okay you two, that’s enough. Pico, Y/n,” He starts, “you two are going to get detention for the whole week. Darnell, you’ll be getting two weeks for sneaking out.” Darnell groans in annoyance.

The group exits the classroom onto the front of the now empty school. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow..” Pico shrugs, his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, you too, Pico.” Y/n says before walking away, Pico weakly raising a hand to wave her goodbye.

“Ew, fucking weirdos.”

[dyns33]

Communication issues

A little Shane x female reader, without any zombies

Y/N quickly told Lori about it, because she didn't know how to talk to Shane about it without him taking it the wrong way.

Shane often took things the wrong way. Oh, he wasn't yelling at her, he wasn't hitting her, but he was reacting like a stupid child, not listening, not trying to understand, just feeling criticized and attacked, and preferring to run away to the bar for hours, before coming back to finally hear what she wanted to say to him.

It would have been the same for this subject, if not worse. Because sex was obviously a very important subject to Shane.

So important that they had been fucking at least three times a day since they met, which was almost a year ago.

Y/N wasn’t complaining. Not complaining at all. Shane was a very gifted, very considerate lover. But this limitless libido was starting to tire her a little, and above all to intrigue her.

Completely honest, he had told her about all his previous relationships, even the one that had only lasted one night. There had been many. He started very young.

It might have seemed stupid, but Y/N wondered if it meant something, if Shane didn't have a problem. Maybe he was repressing things, maybe he was looking for some form of affection, maybe there was a hormonal problem.

It wasn't mean, she was just worried about him. And as she knew he wouldn't understand, she spoke about it to Lori, who looked at her with wide eyes.

"… Three times per day ?"

“Is that the only thing you remember from what I just said? ”

"Three times per day."

"Yes. And I'm not complaining ! If I tell him no, Shane doesn't force me either, but he goes into the bathroom and stays there for a very long time, if you know what I mean. You think that he has a problem ? Maybe he should see a doctor ? To talk, or get some medicine."

“You want him to stop ?”

"No ! I just want to understand why he behaves like a rabbit in heat absolutely all the time, if it's normal or if it's something else. It's for his own good, you can't hear his heart beat super fast when he falls asleep."

Lori found her fears a little absurd, but adorable. She couldn't really help her, though, because her husband wasn't as productive, so she had no other point of comparison.

Her advice was to talk to Shane about it, or watch if he seemed to be having a heart attack mid-coitus.

Not finding the words to explain her apparently imaginary fears, Y/N opted for the second option and everything went well.

Until one evening when Shane returned from patrol, tired, visibly disturbed, and remaining in the hall while she was cooking.

"Shane ? Are you okay ?"

"… Yes."

"I'm doing some chili. I hope you're hungry. How was your day ? Did you catch any bad guys ?"

"No, calm day. I'm going to take a shower, baby."

This was normal. Shane always took a long shower after his work. This time it was a little long, but that wasn't the problem.

The problem was that he hadn't kissed her when he arrived, he hadn't asked her to come with him, and he hadn't kissed her before leaving the room.

But Y/N didn’t say anything. He must have been tired.

They chatted for the rest of the evening, watched a movie together, and then it was time for bed, and normalcy was completely shattered, when Shane quickly kissed her on the forehead and wished her good night, before to lie down with your back to her.

He kissed her on the forehead, before turning his back ?

There were some nights where he didn't even wait for them to arrive in the room before throwing himself on her, his hands roaming her body, his lips never leaving her mouth. It could last for hours, and when they fell asleep, it was always in each other's arms.

Shane must have been really tired.

However, the night passed, and things did not return to complete normal. He still kissed her on the forehead the next day, wishing her a good day. He didn't hesitate when she told him he loved her, responding that he loved her too with a strange little smile.

He responded to her messages. He called her during his lunch break. In fact, he was doing absolutely everything as usual, except touching her.

Y/N decided that maybe he was sick. He had a fever, he was afraid of infecting her, and instead of talking to her, he kept his distance.

On the third day, she woke up alone in bed and found him asleep on the couch. Gently, she touched his forehead, perfectly normal, and she had to accept the truth.

Physically, Shane was fine. There was another problem.

They could have talked about it. At least try. But he was rarely there because of his work, and he hated communicating. Y/N had figured that out a long time ago. His actions always had to be deciphered, and his actions were clear.

He didn't love her anymore. He didn't know how to tell her, so he gradually moved away, until he wouldn't come home at all.

Like with a bandage, she could have forced him to tell her, so that he would end her suffering, but Y/N wanted him to stay as long as possible, so she said nothing, staying alone in their big cold bed, and accepting his quick kisses on her head.

The tears flowed on Sunday, during girls' night at Michonne. Her friends asked her if everything was okay, and she broke down.

"He's going to leave me…"

"What ?! No ! Shane adores you, I've never seen him so happy with anyone !"

"He doesn't touch me anymore. He sleeps in the living room."

"What a bastard ! Do you think he's cheating on you ?"

“Andrea, you’re not helping.” Carol sighed, stroking Y/N’s back. "He may have personal issues. Lori, does Rick know something about it ?"

"He didn't tell me anything. You know how men are, they don't talk or they talk too much. My husband is the first type of jerk."

Y/N continued to cry, leaving the others to debate about the men and the reasons that could push Shane to act like this.

Then she felt very tired, apologizing and saying she wanted to be alone. Leaving the girls in the kitchen, she went into the living room, sitting down in an armchair to think about all this.

Bangs against glass startled her. Looking up, she found Shane pressed against the window, staring at her with panicked eyes.

“Shane ?” she whispered, getting up to open it for him. "What are you doing here ?"

"Lori called Rick to tell him I'm a huge asshole."

"What ?"

He didn't give her time to continue, pressing himself against her as before, taking her to the bathroom without stopping kissing her. He looked like a hungry, desperate animal, unable to stop himself from touching her.

"Baby. My love… Do you know that I love you like crazy ?"

“It’s been pretty confusing for a week.”

"I know. Rick told me on Monday that I was stupid. I wanted to stop on Tuesday, but it started to feel like a gamble, so I continued."

"… What are you talking about ?"

So Shane explained to her. He explained to her that Lori had told her husband about her fears, and his best friend had told him about it.

Of course, as Y/N predicted, Shane took it a little badly. He didn't understand what she criticized about their pace of copulation, while he made a lot of effort not to stay in bed all day with her.

So he had an idea, a stupid idea. It couldn't have lasted more than a day, but he was going to go home and he wasn't going to do anything. He wasn’t going to touch her, and if Y/N wasn’t happy, then she would have to do the work.

But Y/N hadn’t done anything, because she had thought he was tired, and because she didn’t need sex all the time. This had frustrated him greatly. Disappointed. He had spent a lot of time alone with himself, even in the bathroom, in other rooms of the house, at work, in the street, wandering like a lost dog without his owner.

"Rick made fun of me, saying that I looked like a zombie the next day. That it was proof that you were right, that I was like an addict in withdrawal. So I kept going, to prove it wasn't true… Except it was kind of true. I couldn't stay in bed with you right next to me anymore. It was too hard."

“Because you love sex.”

"No. Because I love you. It's you, darling. As soon as I see you, as soon as I hear your laugh, when you say my name, when you touch me… I'm addicted to you. Before, I would find a girl every now and then, I liked to fuck, but it wasn't the same. With you… It's like breathing, you know ? Rick also made fun of me when I tried to explain it to him, saying that I was a romantic fool. I love it when we become one, and when I know I'm making you feel good. That's my way to.. You know."

“Oh, Shane.”

Since he wasn't good with words, Shane continued his grand declaration of love using his tongue differently, his hands sliding over her body like a poet writing verses, and he chanted her name over and over until what saw stars.

Andrea entered the bathroom after they had just finished. She looked at them before quickly closing the door.

"… Oops." Shane chuckled nervously as he put his pants back on.

"You're kidding me…"

"Maybe she didn't see us well. I can try to jump out the window and you return to the living room with your dignity."

“Andrea clearly saw us, and she probably already told the others everything.”

"Sorry baby, I was so focused on you, I didn't think to lock the door. I know you're modest."

He held her hand for her walk of shame into the hall. The girls were waiting for them there with slightly embarrassed smiles.

"Hey everyone. Michonne, nice bathroom." said Shane as if everything was normal.

“I’ll clean it up after the party.”

“You better, yes.”

“Shane…” Y/N muttered as she closed her eyes, her cheeks almost as warm as when they were in the bathroom.

"Okay, it's late. I'm working early tomorrow, so I'll leave you. Y/N, see you at home ? Have a nice evening."

He kissed her before leaving, as he always kissed her before leaving a room, without caring about their audience.

Y/N stayed in the middle of the room, biting her lips while stroking her hickey-covered neck, and avoiding the mischievous looks of her friends.

"It seems… It seems he doesn't want to break up with me."

"I knew it. He's just an idiot."

"A very gifted idiot, from what I've seen and heard."

"Andrea. Try to think before you speak."

She wasn't wrong, he was very talented, and he used his talents to communicate all his love with everything other than words, which wasn't always a good thing, but Y/N wasn't complaining.

Next time she would speak to him directly, even if he might sulk a little, because he would always come back to listen at the end.

[collegetennisoriginstory]

Allie!!! You have outdone yourself with this update once more (as per usual <3)! This update was beefy and there were so many cute scenes!! I've been playing and replaying the game on and off for the past few days because it's just so gosh darn cute!!! Spoilers for some scenes below, so reader beware! I especially really enjoyed the fall festival with the Haynes squad. As much as I love tension and drama, I think I also just really enjoy scenes where the characters get to goof off and have fun together; it's just so wholesome and sweet! I also have to shout-out the little running/impromptu swim date with Rayyan. When I tell you that scene got me kicking my feet and giggling like a teenager with a crush again!!! The dialogue option where MC only acquiesces because it's Rayyan asking is especially endearing. It feels like a nice callback to that one off-hand comment Felix makes if MC wins the unofficial Devil's Dozen with Rayyan, about how they can't believe Rayyan would be willing to participate at all, let alone actually win. I like the theme being set up that MC and Rayyan push each other to do things they wouldn't otherwise do without the other person encouraging/egging them on!

Also speaking of Felix, I was not expecting to like them so much, and yet here we are!! My MC (her name's Rosa!) has been pretty neutral about Felix thus far - she's nice to them bcs she's nice to everyone, but she's a bit wary around them bcs she and Tobin are close, plus the rest of the team doesn't seem to like them very much and she's pretty easily persuaded. I really only tried the Felix doubles route out of curiosity (I really can't see Rosa making this decision herself without divine intervention on my part) and now I'm a little upset because it's actually kind of wholesome?? The free coffee and world-weary quips got to me, I won't lie. I also think these two honestly make for a rather comical sight as partners. Picture Batman and Elle Woods playing tennis and hanging out together - that's essentially the vibe I'm getting from Felix and Rosa. They're getting along, but everyone is baffled. I can't help but wonder how Felix is feeling about this whole thing. This whole experience has solidified the idea in Rosa's head that Felix is friend-shaped, so I hope they're ready to deal with the consequences of their actions! You have unintentionally acquired a friend now Felix - and she will ask if she can paint your nails, try to foist off her baking experiments onto you ("...You do remember that I work at a café, right?" "Okay, but does your café sell cookies with chili paste in it? Didn't think so! Hey, don't give me that look, they're good, I swear!!"), and will insist on chatting for like at least 10 minutes everytime she visits the café unless you tell her you're busy. Your fate is sealed now, frowny-man (gender neutral)!!! 😠

Excuse me this comment gave me life!!!

Obviously a lot of spoilers so please look away guys, but THIS MADE ME SQUEAL AND GIGGLE SO MANY TIMES especially imagining your MC and Felix getting along. The cafe baking and the little "I am determined to chat at you every time we bump into each other" is truly the most adorable headcanon ever. As is your MC slowly warming to Felix.

I'm also soo glad you liked the little icy dip scene, I've been meaning to write it ever since they went on that run together and it was raised as a possibility...

Sending ya lots of love, thank you for the lovely lovely ask!

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 11/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

                “A fishing boat?” Bradley asks, pulling a face. “Really?”

                “You said you wanted to be in the Navy. Are you scared of a little seasickness?”

                “No. I just…”

                “Understanding and appreciating our food, from where we harvest it, or take it, is all important. Learning what fresh really looks like is also very important when it come to fish and seafood hmm?”

                “Oh yeah, I guess that’s true,” Bradley says, thinking of Johan’s ability to look at fish and simply pick the best pieces.

                “Also a week in Greece is not the end of the world hmm?”

                “Okay, you deliberately made it sound like I was going on a fishing boat in the North Sea, not a… charter boat for a week in Greece.”

                “Hmm. You will earn your stay. But I think you will enjoy the change of scenery.”

                Bradley had no idea how Leandro knows him so well, but he finds himself the sole chef on a charter yacht for a group of six tourists. They’re American, and once they realize he’s also American they stop speaking slowly and loudly, chat happily to him while he cooks. He fishes and dives with them during the day, makes breakfasts and lunches and then cooks what they’ve caught that day. He doesn’t recognize any of them, but when the week ends a couple of them tip him heavily, even though he tries to insist there isn’t any need. Then one of them passes him a business card.

                “If you ever consider setting up shop back home, look me up. I’d be interested in supporting you. And eating more of your food.”

…            …            …

                “Holy shit. Bradley Bradshaw.”

                “Yeah. Hello again…”

                “You’ve met already?” Jake asks, looking between Bradley and who must be his sister. She’s maybe a few years older, hair the same color but longer, tied back in a plait. Bradley finds himself automatically nodding, although he’s also hoping that her surprise is that he’s at her front door, and not because she’s starstruck. She hadn’t seemed at all perturbed when he’d met her on Saturday with the film crew trailing him. Turning up with her brother shouldn’t be any more alarming, surely?

                “Yeah, at the Farmers Market in the weekend,” Bradley starts. “I tried the chili jam, it was really good. Bought a few jars.”

                “Oh cool. Well, then I don’t need to introduce you. Well, her name is Maria if you need a reminder. I call him Leo because Bradley Bradshaw sounds made up.”

                He’s glad Jake has provided a name, and he notes Maria’s eyebrows shoot up and god, he’s been enjoying Jake’s complete disregard for Bradley’s fame, whether it’s real or contrived he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think Jake would care, if he did know, but it’s also really nice not having any expectations put on him from the person he’s with. The last few days have been great, reminding him of his younger years in Europe.

                “Leo is the name my Italian family call me. Short for Leonardo.”

                “I definitely prefer Leo,” Jake says, grinning at him and he follows his lead in taking his shoes off, putting the bags of ingredients and previous iterations of sauce down. “Keep forgetting your name is actually Bradley Bradshaw…”

                Maria makes a high-pitched sound Bradley can only guess is a choked off laugh and he grimaces and shrugs his shoulders, tries to convey that he’s doing the best he can and Maria is just looking at him and shaking her head, her eyes wide as she looks between him and her brother.

                “Um, yeah, okay, hi again. Jake said you were after some help with… tasting things. Right. You’ve been… trying to feed him,” Maria says, now looking at Jake. “Wow…”

                “Yeah. He’s pretty decent. Not as good as grandma, or even you or Olivia, but he hasn’t killed me yet.”

                Bradley clenches his jaw to stop himself from laughing outright, his eyes not leaving Maria’s face, and she looks equal parts mortified but also like she’s also trying not to laugh again. She makes a little high-pitched sound and Bradley has to pretend to cough as a burst of laughter makes its way out. She definitely knows who he is, had known on Saturday when he’d been walking around with the film crew but she’d been very chilled and laid back, hadn’t even asked for a selfie.

                “What chores need doing? I can go and do whatever it was you were planning on doing and instead you can help Leo with his new recipe… I like your cooking, but I am kind of over tasting the same thing over and over and you expecting me to be able to taste the difference,” he says to Bradley. Bradley looks back at Maria who has covered her mouth with both her hands and closed her eyes, had her head tilted back like she’s hoping the ceiling has answers.

                “Thank you, I’ll try my best not to poison your sister…”

                “Oh god…” Maria says from behind her hands.

                “Thanks. Appreciate it. Maria, you okay?”

                Maria wipes at her eyes, waves away Jake’s concerns saying it’s the pollen making them itch and hands Jake a piece of paper with writing on it and he tucks it into his pocket.

                “I’ll be back.”

                Then he’s kissing him, his thigh slotting between Bradley’s and he finds himself almost being dipped and he knows he’s flushing bright red, wonders if that was Jake’s whole aim, trying to embarrass him. It’s over quickly, although he’s not sure if that is a good thing or not.

                “Don’t be mean,” Jake says to Maria, and then he’s tugging boots on, grabbing the same cowboy hat Bradley remembers him wearing on Saturday.

                “When am I ever mean?”

                “Only every day of my life,” Jake says with a grin, but then he’s tipping the hat and Bradley bites his lip as he watches him stride back outside. Hmm.

                “So, you’re Leo. I had no idea he was bringing you around.”

                A little reluctantly he stops watching Jake stride off, and he turns to find Maris watching him, eyes amused and he smiles.

                “Yeah. I gathered he hadn’t told you when you said holy shit first thing when you opened the door. He and I met years ago, in Italy. He said he told his sister?”

                At that Maria’s lips twitch and Bradley starts feeling a little uneasy.

                “Did he say which one?”

                “Uh. No?”

                “Has he mentioned exactly how many sisters he has?” Maria asks, and she’s folding her arms and leaning back, watching him and Bradley feels like he’s being tested. That’s fine. If he can survive the Gallo family he can survive Jake’s sisters. Why he feels like he needs to survive or befriend Jake’s sister isn’t something he’s going to examine too closely but… he likes to think he’s a nice guy when he isn’t stressed out.

                “Not exactly? But… three? I mean, I know he’s the youngest. And there’s a sister with kids because he babysat them on Monday night.”

                “Sandra.”

                “And then his sister who he told about meeting me in Italy? And that isn’t you?”

                “Hmm. He only told me about meeting you in Italy on Sunday, so… it was probably Nicola when it happened originally.”

                “Okay. So. Jake just mentioned an Olivia, so… four? That’s my best guess. Four.”

                He can’t even imagine having four older sisters, having Violet is bad enough, although he calls her cousin he sometimes wonders how much closer they’d be if they were actually siblings. She’s his best friend.

                “Nope. Five. You’re missing Amanda. She’s Nicola’s twin.”

                “Five sisters. Holy shit.”

                “What about you? Big family?”

                “No. All the stuff about me losing both my parents is true. I’ve got a big Italian family that informally adopted me though…”

                “So he met you, and you bumped into each other on Saturday and now you’re…”

                She doesn’t finish the sentence and he’s grateful, although the look she gives him clearly spells out exactly what she’s thinking. She grabs some of the bags at his feet and jerks her head for him to follow her.

                “So you’ve told him your name, he’s just…Oh my god… he has no idea who you are.”

                “You think so? I kind of like it,” Bradley admits and Maria’s shaking her head.

                “Oh, he’ll have no idea. He’s smart, but he’s also fucking oblivious. Also I’m judging you. He adds sauce to nearly everything…”

                “Yeah. I’ve noticed.”

                “Well, he had really bad reflux as a baby. Like… he needed an operation to fix it type bad. He was such a picky eater as a kid, drove us mad. We got around it by pretty much putting sauce on everything.”

                “Oh…” Bradley murmurs, and he’d wondered. He sets out the ingredients and the little containers of sauce saved from his previous attempts.

                “Yeah. Obviously he’s an adult now, he doesn’t have to add sauce, but if he has the choice?”

                “On it goes. Right. Okay…”

                “Yeah. You okay with that?”

                “Of course. He’s not making me eat it. I’m not…” he shrugs helplessly, wants to try and say he’s not the uptight and angry chef that that TV producers like to portray him as. Sure he has a temper, but it’s definitely not as bad or as frequent as they make it seem. He also knows he's got something of a resting bitch-face. At least that's what Vi calls it.

                “Hmm. Thought so. Anyway, Jake doesn’t cook for enjoyment. He’d never watch a cooking show. Doesn’t like reality TV at all… If you wanted to keep it on the downlow you could. I don’t think he’d accidentally stumble across you. And I can keep my mouth shut.”

                “I don’t want to keep it a secret from him or anything. He knows it’s my job. And he knows my name…”

                “Okay. So… not to be super crude but you’re just, uh, hooking up right?”

                “I mean… yeah.”

                “Well. If you decide you want something more than hooking up with him, you’re going to have to spell it out, be really obvious. More obvious than you think you need to be. And I have an idea for showing just how oblivious he can potentially be…”

TWELVE

[archangeldyke-all]

(I honestly don’t know if my asks are getting in atp but im just gonna keep resending them if they get removed because I’m not a fucking wimp 🗣️‼️‼️)

______

Wait no because what if Sevika had a group chat with her coworkers and shit (Smeech, Ran, Renni, Silco, Finn, Signed, Dustin and ofc her lovely gf <3)

And at least once every two weeks there is ALWAYSSS chaos

Like; Sev and Finn could be arguing and then Ran pulls up with the fucking Curse of Ra 💀or Renni just uses the gc as a shopping list since she forgot to open notes and everyone is just like “Ren, wrong app 💀” or someone points out shit from her list HSHJERJD

PLEASE i'm gonna do the roach 'verse gang, because i think it would be insane.

men and minors dni

silco: if any of u have spare cash on u, bring it to my office and leave it on my desk. i'll pay u back tomorrow.

you: jinx, get off of silco's phone.

lock: fuck, that was jinx? i put ten on his desk!

sevika: idiot.

ran: LMAOOOO IDIOT

thieriam: shit, i put twenty bucks on his desk too.

you: jinx! how much fucking money did you steal?!

deckard: she got me too, that fucker.

ran: you are all so fucking stupid.

singed: just checked the office, the cash and jinx are nowhere to be found.

deckard: fuck!

lock: fuck

thieriam: oh fuck, silco's never gonna pay us back.

silco: no, i'm not. you should all know better by now. i would never use 'u' to type 'you'

ran: this is fucking hilarious

sevika: babe, what's for dinner?

you: you, if i'm lucky ;)

deckard: HELLO?? this is the gc??

sevika: stfu deckard.

ran: no but fr, what's for dinner, roach?

you: idk, i'm thinking chicken chili?

lock: ooooh, with cornbread?

you: sure, if you guys want.

lock: yes please!

ran: yes!!!

deckard: oh, yum.

singed: fuck, roach are you free?

you: yeah?

singed: i just sliced my hand open. can you come stitch me up?

you: lmao, i'm on the way.

ran: roach to the rescue!

sevika: put a heart in the chat if i'm the stupidest one in the gang.

deckard: <3

thieriam: <3

ran: LMAOO <3333333

you: <3

you: jinx, give sevika her phone back.

sevika: i'm gonna kill her someday.

sevika: babe, you put a fucking heart in the chat????

you: cant talk, stitching singed up.

silco: i'm sorry for jinx's behavior today. she's upset that she doesn't have her own phone yet.

lock: it's no fuckin fair! u guys get to talk all the time and i have to steal a phone to be in on the chat!

silco: jinx!

you: lmaoo jinx you can come play on my phone.

lock: fine.

lock: shit, i didn't even notice she took it until she gave it back.

sevika: she's a fuckin' weasel.

you: whats up assholes?

ran: hey jinx. what'd you buy with your stolen money?

you: more flamers. a few candy bars. a new jumbo plushy.

lock: you wanna share your candy?

you: no.

silco: jinx, at least share with the man you stole from.

you: ugh fine. they're in the kitchen lock.

lock: sweet!

thieriam: some of us are trying to work, can we please not abuse the work groupchat for not-work purposes

you: put a heart in the chat if thieriam sucks ass!

sevika: <3

ran: <3

deckard: <3

silco: jinx, what did i tell you about that kind of language?

you: i'm not jinx i'm roach.

thieriam: fuck off jinx, roach would never be so mean to me.

lock: <3

you: effective. Power. لُلُصّبُلُلصّبُررً h  ॣ ॣ ॣ

across from where you're finishing up singed's stitches, deckard gasps down at his phone.

"you fuck!" he exclaims, looking up at jinx where she's sitting beside you. she giggles.

"what'd you do this time?" you ask. she laughs and hands you back your phone, before running out of the lab.

"she shut all our phones down!" he says. "how the fuck did she do that?" he cries.

upstairs, you hear ran and lock's shared groan.

you chuckle and shake your head. "jinx you stupid fuck!" sevika roars from the second floor. you giggle.

"i better go handle that." you say, finishing your final stitch. singed chuckles.

"you better." he says as jinx's squeal floats down to the lab.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

[hannahbarberra162]

Can't Fix Fix A Broken Heart, Chapter 25

18+ MDNI

On Ao3

All other chapters

Tate has devised a plan to get a Girls Trip™ for the two of you, you just need to execute it to perfection.

I definitely don’t dream about having Ace snuggling me when I’m on my period. Like a living weighted blanket who would say sweet things into my ear. That is definitely not a wish of mine and complete self-indulgence.

~

This is the set up for the divergent endings. The good ending will be first, the bad ending will be last.

The next morning, you knocked on the door to the women’s quarters, holding your sketches under your arm. You knew you didn’t need to knock, it had been your living space too at some point. But it didn’t feel right to barge in unannounced. A very hungover looking Heidi cracked open the door and smiled weakly at you.

“What’s up?” she rasped at you. Evidently, more nurses than just Tate had a wild night. 

“Is Tate up? I was hoping to get a few minutes with her before work.” You had all your ideas with you, you were ready to show her some and see which ones she liked.

“Yeah, gimme a sec,” Heidi replied, opening the door all the way. “Tate!” she yelled. There was a chorus of ‘shhhhh’ that rang out among the darkened room. Tate shuffled up to the door, looking worse for the wear. You smirked at her.

“How’re you feeling?” you asked with a bright smile. She glared at you, but without malice. “C’mon, I’ll make you my hangover cure. Chug it and we’ll chat after that.” Tate blinked slowly, but shuffled out the door and put her arm in yours. The two of you walked silently down the halls together, ending in the kitchen. Just like with Ace, you sat her down while you made your drink of lemon, honey, vinegar, chili peppers, seltzer, and a little dash of secret ingredient. Tate emphatically frowned when you handed it to her, but shrugged. 

“Can’t be worse than whatever I drank last night,” she lamented. “Bottoms up,” she said, chugging the drink. You handed her the water right after, which she sipped. “So, I remember some of what we talked about last night. Did you say that you finished the sketches?” 

You grinned at her, putting the drawings in front of her. “I did, we can go over them together and see what you like and what we need to change.” You spread them out, showing her your ideas. “Basically, these are mix and match pieces in a few colors. You can pair any of the tops with any of the bottoms for a good outfit. I even included skirts of various lengths in case you…miss…the mini skirts,” you finished with a wink. “I thought darker fabrics would be better in the case of bodily fluids. Teal and periwinkle tend to be universally flattering, no matter your skin tone, but black or gray are also good choices. In terms of fabric, cotton would be a good choice but we’ll have to go to a fabric store and find some samples…” You went on about dye lots, fabric blends, and clothing cuts, explaining everything in detail to Tate. She nodded along, looking through the sketches. 

“So, what do you think? What can we change to suit your needs better?” you asked the now revived nurse. 

“Absolutely nothing. These are incredible! I love the long pants, it’s so annoying to wash other people’s blood off the tops of your thighs.” She was looking over the drafts intensely, making notes with a pencil she had. “I have nothing to add other than you’re a genius. Let’s get off the boat at the next large island and get some samples. Make a whole day of it,” she said, putting her hand over yours and smiling kindly. You smiled back, but were unsure. You had a feeling it would take a lot of convincing for Marco to let you off the ship. “I’ll work on Marco,” Tate said as if reading your mind, “I have a plan.”

You felt lighter after your brief meeting with Tate. She had to go back to the infirmary for work and you had to go to breakfast. While you ate, Thatch was pretending to be upset with you because he found out that Ace had joined you and Marco for the night. You could tell he wasn’t actually upset but you still felt like you had to walk on eggshells.

“But we did that too, remember?” you reminded Thatch. “Ace came in once when you were brushing my hair for me?” You were seated on Thatch’s lap, like always, eating whatever he was serving you. And, like always, it was delicious. 

“ Mija, of course I remember, Ace snores like a train and burns hotter than the sun when he’s dreaming of you,” Thatch scoffed. He speared another forkful of eggs and brought it to your mouth. You opened without thinking and chewed the gooey, cheesy dish. “Look mami , you ate it all, I’m so proud of you!” Thatch kissed the top of your head. Recently you noticed you gained some weight, your clothes were fitting differently. You felt physically well, better than you had in a long time. You couldn’t say the same for your emotional well being, but at least some part of you was healing. 

“Thanks to you,” you said, giving Thatch a kiss on the cheek. He really was a good chef, and you were in a good mood from your conversation with Tate that morning. 

“Someone’s feeling well,” Thatch commented. You hummed, you didn’t want to reveal your plans with Tate yet. It would take a lot of convincing but you thought she figured out a way to get off the ship together for a day. Thatch kissed you again, this time on your mouth, and set you down. You went off to work, feeling energized and ready to take on the day. 

Until later that morning. 

You felt a long gone but familiar sensation of cramping in your lower stomach. One of the only upsides to being starved half to death was that you lost your period for a long time. Obviously, it was a sign of incredibly poor health, but you liked to look on the bright side of things. You always had terrible cramps when you had your period, and it looked like this time would be no exception. You put your hand on your lower stomach, you needed to talk to the nurses quickly. You apologized to Blenheim, promising to fix his scabbard later in the day. You scurried off to the infirmary, hoping to avoid Marco.

Logically, you knew Marco was a doctor and had studied the female reproductive system. But you still felt much more comfortable talking to other women about menstruation than men. You slunk into the clinic, quickly ducking into one of the unoccupied examination rooms. Peeking through the cracked door, you waited until you saw a lurid pink miniskirt pass by the door. You darted out, scaring Bethany, who dropped her clipboard.

“You can’t just pop out at people like that!” she scolded you. 

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly. “I need pads and tampons, can I use the ones in the women’s bathroom here?” you whispered. There weren’t many women’s restrooms on the ship, you only knew of the ones in the infirmary and connected to the women’s quarters.

“Sure, they’re communal. You don’t need to ask,” Bethany replied at full volume. You hoped Marco wasn’t listening in.

“Thanks, see you later.” You sped off to the women’s bathroom in the infirmary, grabbing what you needed. You were still wearing a stupid dress, but you swiped some underwear from the clean patient laundry. They were too big, but it was better than nothing. If Marco was mad, well, he could solve the problem himself. Leaving the bathroom, you jumped as you saw the very man you were trying to avoid leaning against the opposing wall. Served you right for surprising Bethany, you supposed.

“Everything alright?” Marco asked, assessing you with his eyes. He was in doctor mode, which made you feel more comfortable. You knew what to expect when he was like this, he was professional, detached, and had good bedside manner.

“Oh, um, yeah. I just got um, my…period.” Marco smiled kindly at you.

“Congratulations yoi. It’s a sign of recovery. However, the first menstruation after extensive amenorrhea is often quite painful. I recommend you go lay down, rest and relax.” Even though it was phrased as a clinical recommendation, you knew it was an order. 

“Ok Marco. Where should I go? I don’t want to ruin any-” Marco waved off your concerns.

“We’re all adults here, no one is upset by the human body. Ace cleaned his room, would you like to go there?” You tried to hide your disgust when you thought about Ace’s room and the last time you’d seen it. Marco laughed.

“I understand your hesitation yoi, but I checked it myself. It’s clean and always the perfect temperature. Go there. I’ll give you some medicine to take with you.” Marco left to rummage in a nearby cart, grabbing a bottle of low grade pain killers. “Take two, and drink some water. I’ll have Ace check on you in an hour or two.” Marco kissed you on your head, turned you around by your shoulders and sent you off with a little push. You didn’t feel that bad, you’d been having your period for many years. Going to lay down preemptively was overkill, you thought, but you weren’t going to disagree with Marco.

An hour later and you were glad Marco had sent you to lay down. You remembered having cramps, of course, but nothing like this. You were curled up on Ace’s freshly made bed, writhing in pain. After the first wave of cramps, you’d taken the pain killers, but they weren’t getting close to helping with the pain. Marco had stopped by briefly, bringing you tea, a hot water bottle, and tucking you under the covers. You asked him to heal you but he said there wasn’t anything wrong with you, that it was excess uterine lining being shed normally. There was nothing to heal, so his flames wouldn’t do anything. He had a busy day and couldn’t stay long but promised to send Ace up. 

In between pains so intense you thought your stomach was being sliced in half, you took a look around Ace’s room. It was so much better than the first time you’d been in the room. He had cleaned out all the food, all the old papers, and done his laundry. Marco was right, it was warm and cozy. You weren’t sure if it was the room itself or if it was somehow the residual effects of his Mera Mera, but you didn’t care. You tried closing your eyes and falling asleep but the closest you could get was dozing in and out of consciousness. 

Creaking, the door opened, and you heard Ace ending a conversation. You kept your back turned to the door and pretended to be asleep in case he could see you.

“ - don’t think she likes it, not like I do…” Ace sounded doubtful about whatever it was. 

“Remember how you were when you joined yoi? All anger and fury? And now look at us,” you could tell he was speaking with Marco. “Give it some time, it will be everything you ever wanted. Family and love, happiness and a place where you belong, all here with us. Here, give her these,” Ace hummed, and it sounded like they kissed. Footsteps told you Marco left, and Ace opened the door, holding a few bottles of pills. He spotted you on his bed and kicked off his shoes, putting the bottles on his desk. You really wanted to ask him about what they were talking about but didn’t have the courage to admit you were listening in to their private conversation. 

“Poor baby,” he said, as you heard him taking off his pants and knife.

“S’ok,” you replied, stretching a little. Ace got into the bed with you, crawling behind you. You whined, you didn’t want to be manhandled right now. You saw Marco had given Ace a bottle of vitamins and another of anti-nausea medication for you. You'd take them later, you couldn't move right now.

“Shhhh. S’gonna be alright.” Ace curled up behind you, spooning you. He moved your hands away from your lower stomach and replaced them with his own. You felt the gentle warmth of his Mera Mera heating you. You mewled and scooted backwards, snuggling into him. Ace buried his face in your neck and held you closer. He let you relax and drift to sleep, holding you tightly in his arms. 

It was a challenging few days for you. Your period was lighter than it normally was, but extremely painful. You didn’t leave Ace’s room much, spending your time reading and thinking about your reply letter to Vista’s brothers. Thatch, Ace, and Marco all visited as they could, with Ace staying with you at night. They were actually…sweet. You wished they were always this way, then you’d have no doubts about staying on the ship with them. Thatch brought you desserts and savory food in equal measure and gave you massages when your muscles were tight. He didn’t make you sit on his lap but let you eat by yourself in Ace’s bed. He tried to hand feed you, but sulkily accepted when you declined. Marco brought you medicine, tea, pads, and more books from his collection. He made sure you were physically comfortable, bringing loose pants, extra blankets and pillows. Ace, of course, warmed you up and snuggled with you until you thought you would merge together on an atomic level. You were thankful he let you hole up in his room.

“Sorry, I know it can’t be easy having me in here all the time,” you said to Ace on the third day. You were laying in bed together, limbs entangled, facing each other. Ace was still dozing after the night you’d spent in each other’s arms. You were brushing his freckles lightly with your fingertips. You were feeling better, you’d be out of his room by the afternoon, you thought.

“S’great. Wish’is all the time,” Ace mumbled. “Would lock you in here’f I could,” he continued, putting his chin on the top of your head. You sighed because you knew that when you got up, you would be back to your previous life of rules and punishments from the three Commanders. You nuzzled deeper into Ace’s arms, keeping the real world at bay for just a few hours longer.

~~~

A few days later, you needed to find Ace once more. You and Tate thought you had figured out a way to finagle a girl’s day out of the Commanders. The two of you wanted to stop at the next big island, coming up in about a week. It was close to the calm belt, but you’d actually been to the island years prior. It was known for its large textile factory and incredible fabric inventory. You’d done a few fashion shows there, maybe you could use some of your previous fame to get a discount on fabrics, or at least try to. It also had a day spa that was known for its wet saunas and hot tubs. You really wanted to go with Tate and enjoy a relaxing girls trip. Tate’s plan would require you to be crafty and a little conniving, but it would be worth it if it worked out. 

Ace was going to go on a mission later that morning, you needed to find him quickly. He was still inhaling food in the mess hall after you’d eaten breakfast. You waited for him outside the mess hall, wanting to speak to him in private. When he left, you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him aside. You looked up at him with hope in your eyes.

“Ace, can I get off the ship with Tate at the next island? They have a fabric store I want to go to. Please?” You weren’t sure this would work, but you really wanted to go to the fabric store in person. 

“Ah, I don’t think so. You’ll have to ask -” you stopped Ace from talking by pulling him down by his hat string to kiss him. You kissed him deeply, holding him at the back of his neck. All that time you’d spent with him in bed had you feeling connected to him, and you hoped the reverse was true as well.

“Please?” you asked again in a pleading tone. Ace smiled at you, disarmed by the forward display of affection.

“I know you’re trying to manipulate me, but I have to say, it’s working. OK, as long as someone’s with you. Ask Thatch or Marco, though, just to be sure. I’ll be gone by the time the Moby’s docking at the next island, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” 

“Thank you Ace! Thank you, thank you” you kissed his cheeks every time you thanked him, making Ace smile even wider.

“You should ask me for favors more often, I like the way this is going.” Ace husked. He pulled you against him, you could feel his growing erection through his shorts. You rubbed up against him a little bit, teasing him.

“Let’s finish this in a bit, I need to go eat breakfast and Thatch doesn’t like when I’m late,” you replied. One last kiss to Ace and you were on your way. The first part of your plan had been a success.

Next, you waited until it was lunchtime. You were extra good for Thatch, complimenting his cooking and allowing him to feed you without complaint. You finished about two thirds of your food before you started talking to him about the island.

“Thatch, I have a favor I want to ask you,” you began, eyes wide.

“If I can grant it, I will mami. What do you need?” Thatch rubbed your palm with his thumb.

“Can I get off the ship with Tate at the next island? There’s a fabric store I want to go to for the new nurses’ uniforms.” You looked at Thatch hopefully.

“Ah. No, I don’t think so. I don’t want -”

“But Ace already said yes, I was so excited,” you said while making yourself cry. Tears fell down your face and you twisted the knife in Thatch’s heart. “I t-told Tate we could g-go, and I was going to invite y-you -” Thatch frowned and rubbed away the tears from your cheeks.

“ Querida, if it’s that important to you, I’ll talk to Marco. We can try to make it work. I’m not sure it will happen, but we’ll try.” You smiled, stopping the tears.

“Thank you Thatch! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Just like with Ace, you kissed him with every thank you. 

“ Mija it’s not a guarantee, you understand that, right? I don’t want you to be upset if it doesn’t work out in the end,” Thatch said, still stroking your cheek. You gave him a genuine smile - you knew he would try his hardest to let you off the ship. He would go and talk to Marco on your behalf and try to convince the Phoenix into letting you off the ship. Marco would be the toughest of the three, but you thought between you, Thatch, and Tate it would be possible to convince him. You exchanged a few more kisses, thanking him, until he had to leave to prepare lunch for the crew. Part two of Tate’s plan had worked. 

Marco found you in the afternoon as you were on the deck leaning against the main mast, relaxing. You were still taking it easy but the little work you’d been doing had tired you out. How did the crew break so many toilets?

“So I hear you want to have an excursion on the next island,” Marco began, standing over you. He seemed to be in a good mood, or at least hadn’t outright denied you. His half open eyes showed some amusement, which was a good start.

“There’s a textile store that I want to go to with Tate. To get samples for the nurses’s uniforms. I haven’t been off the ship yet.” You tried to keep yourself from rambling but it was always hard for you to keep your cool around Marco.

Marco hummed. “And it has nothing to do with the spa on the island yoi?” You looked up at Marco with wide eyes. He still seemed amused, he wasn’t mad with you yet. He squished your cheeks gently between his thumb and index finger, the corners of his lips quirked up into a cold smile.

“Tate asked me about the store and the spa. And Thatch also came to talk to me about it. You’ve been working everyone to get off the ship yoi.” You swallowed dryly, you felt caught. “You’ve been a good Doveling lately yoi. Had a hard time this week. I’ll allow it with the understanding that one of us will be with you at all times.” He squished your face with a little more force. “We wouldn’t want you to get lost or hurt. We’re always looking out for you, you know that, don’t you Doveling?” 

You nodded. “Yes, Marco. Thank you Marco.” you replied. Even though Marco had said he allowed it, you felt the lingering threat behind his words. He’d be watching your every move and if anything went wrong on this trip, you didn’t think you’d ever be let off the ship again. 

“You can show your appreciation to me later tonight yoi,” Marco said, moving his hand from your face to your hair, pulling it gently. You were forced to tip your face up even higher. “It’s quite lenient of me, don’t you think?” 

“Yes, Marco. Thank you, Marco.” You shivered thinking about what Marco would want in exchange for allowing you off the ship for a day. He kissed your mouth briefly and released his hand from your hair. 

“Stay here and relax a little longer. You look like you need it yoi.” You agreed. It felt like you’d have to pay for your time off the ship with a pound of flesh. And you knew they would be collecting.