#anyway expect some absolute rambles coming up in the next 10 years

[eggmeralda]

it's weird bc for the next decade I'm gonna be going through so many 10th anniversaries of insignificant (to everyone else) memories

happy 10th anniversary to when I started remembering everything forever

[bunposting]

House Rabbit Society Bullshit - 5 Years Later

I considered just reblogging the OG post (check it out if you haven't seen it - the Masterpost of House Rabbit Society Bullshit) and adding this to the reblogs, but then it got long enough to be its own post. So! Without further ado...

Thank you to @/threefeline for mentioning this in the tags of the original post! Man, has it really been a whole entire 5 years?!

Well, I got curious and decided to check it out so that you, dear readers, don't have to! (or like. you could go do it yourself anyways. but why give them the clicks?)

Man. On the surface, has a lot changed. In fact, it changed so much that I almost fell into the trap of believing that maybe the organization itself has changed. But let's talk about what I found...

Time for one of my famous rambles! Oh boy! (there will be a TL;DR at the very end lmao)

The organization hasn't changed in any way that really matters. They are still essentially PETA for rabbits specifically, but the website has changed an awful lot (I barely recognized it). And, I have to admit, they made a teeny tiny bit of progress on at least one of their stances.

That tiny bit of progress pertains to diet. On their diet section, they are no longer strictly advocating for a diet of 80% hay, 10% veggies, 5% pellets, and 5% fruit/treats. Thank goodness!!!!! What they have isn't too much better but.... it's progress. Here's the update:

This is the first graphic on the diet page. There's. A lot to unpack here.

First is unlimited hay. That's standard of HRS, we've come to expect that from them. Offering unlimited hay to your rabbits won't kill them (though it might screw up their teeth in the long run, according to some studies), but if you're giving your rabbits a complete feed pellet, you'll probably just end up wasting hay because they won't end up eating a ton of it.

Next is "minimum 2 cups chopped vegetables." UM. THAT'S. DANGEROUSLY VAGUE MY GUYS. At least before they specified it should be leafy greens?????? If I was just the standard civilian looking to adopt a rabbit and I saw this, I might think this includes things like cucumbers, carrots, peppers, etc. Feeding a rabbit 2 cups of vegetables like those per 6 lbs of body weight per day would KILL a rabbit. Holy shit.

After that is 1/4 cup pellets. First of all - 1/4 cup is much more than what they used to advocate for, so I guess that's progress. But uh. Fun fact. The average serving size of a good quality complete feed pellet for a 6 lb rabbit when on a maintenance diet is... get this... just a bit over 1/4 cup (roughly 1/3 cup, but it also depends on breed/activity level/management style/etc.). Mind you - that's for a good quality complete feed pellet. Meaning technically the rabbit doesn't need to eat literally anything else. But HRS in this graphic is saying that a rabbit should be getting almost a full serving of pellets on top of 2 cups of unspecified vegetables on top of unlimited hay per day??????? Again, what a fantastic way to kill a rabbit. If the GI issues don't kill it, the obesity certainly will.

But hey, at least they are now specifying that treats should be given sparingly rather than making up a whole 5% of a rabbit's diet.

What an absolutely insane graphic to start this page with. It gets better, though.

After this graphic, they go into a bit more detail. Of course, they still believe hay helps to file down a rabbit's teeth better than pellets or chew blocks. Lol.

But then we get to the thing about the vegetables and here's where things get really interesting (and also extremely contradictory).

Quote: "Rabbits should get a minimum of three different types of leafy green vegetables daily to help them obtain the vitamins and nutrients they need." Ok, glad to see we're specifying leafy green vegetables now at least. That's cool I guess.

Quote immediately after that: "Eliminate any vegetables that cause your rabbit to have soft stool or diarrhea. Every rabbit is different, and you’ll need to find what foods work best for your rabbit, based on their health and sensitivity to certain foods." Sooooo what you're saying is that fresh vegetables can be risky to feed, considering diarrhea can be a death sentence for a rabbit. Interesting. But I'm supposed to be feeding 2 whole entire cups of this stuff per day, right????

Quote immediately after that: "Take this list along with you the next time you’re out shopping for vegetables to try feeding your rabbit" (list of safe vegetables for rabbits was after this.) Oh! Try feeding vegetables! So it's not a requirement! Thank goodness.

Next sentence: "Leafy vegetables should make up about 75% of the fresh portion of your rabbit’s diet. Non-leafy vegetables should make up no more than about 15% of your rabbit’s diet, or about 1 tablespoon per 2 pounds of body weight per day." 75% of the fresh portion of my rabbit's diet should be leafy greens... ok... so I'm guessing the fresh portion they're talking about is those 2 whole entire cups they mentioned before... which supposedly aren't super required I guess??? I have no idea. But now they're saying that 15% of my rabbit's diet - not 15% of the fresh portion, but 15% of my rabbit's entire diet - should be non-leafy vegetables. That's a lot. And also another really great way to kill your rabbits via GI problems.

The next sentence after that: "Due to the emergence of Rabbit Hemorrhagic Disease Virus Type-2 (RHDV2), House Rabbit Society recommends washing all vegetables for at least two minutes, in a bowl, changing the water several times." MY RABBIT CAN GET RVHD2 FROM EATING VEGETABLES?!?!!?!?!?!??!?!?!? WHY TF WOULD I FEED IT VEGETABLES THEN?!!?!?!??!?!?!?!?

Wow. That was a whole lot of contradictions. I'm all worn out. But let's see what they have to say about pellets. This should be good.

HRS' official current stance on pellets is (*drumroll*): "A good quality pellet should be relatively high in fiber (18% minimum fiber). While nursing mothers and young rabbits need to eat a lot of pellets, it should make up less of their diet as they grow older. Alfalfa-based pellets are fine for young rabbits, but timothy-based ones are preferred for adults."

YIPPEE WAHOOOOOO THEY ACKNOWLEDGE THAT PELLETS ARE GOOD ACTUALLY!!!!!!!!! (*the crowd goes wild*) There's that progress I was talking about!!!! I mean, 18% is low for a pellet feed but I guess if you're feeding mostly hay and giving less in terms of pellets that's fine for maintenance. But like. Why not just take the guesswork out and feed a higher fiber complete feed pellet to begin with. Anyways, nitpicking aside, I actually really like that they aren't vilifying pellets anymore, are acknowledging the importance of pellets for young rabbits and nursing does, and aren't saying that alfalfa-based pellets are going to kill your adult rabbits like they used to. Timothy-based pellets can absolutely be preferred for adult maintenance, that's totally fine, but preferred doesn't mean required. That's a huge win imho.

The next section goes on about treats and fresh fruits. They for some reason still say that fruit can be up to 10% of your rabbit's diet (yikes?????? that's actually even more than what they used to say??? at least they're not requiring it now I guess) but they do specify that it shouldn't be much more than a teaspoon per day, and they acknowledge that hay-based treats are healthier.

OK. Diet section aside, not much else has changed. They still say rabbits should have a ton of room and that wire is "dangerous for rabbits' feet" (lol), they still advocate for spaying and neutering, etc. etc. I will say I'm not seeing anything about needing to have rabbits in bonded pairs anymore, so that's a bit of progress too, I guess.

Initially, I was really impressed that it seemed like they weren't continuing to spout anti-breeder and anti-meat rabbit rhetoric anymore........ until I scrolled down on their "about" section. I'll say, they're hiding it better than they used to, because when you look at the about page at face value, it doesn't look like there's much else to see other than their "how we got here" statement. Then we get to their mission/value statements:

Mission statement, save and improve domesticated rabbit lives, eh. If I was an average person I'd be like yeah ok, typical rescue behavior. Then we get to the vision statement: Improving their legal status certainly raises alarm bells for me. As soon as we get legal status involved, that's when we start venturing out of animal welfare and moving more towards animal rights. But again, average citizen would still be like yeah ok. Cool I guess.

But further down, we get their actual list of values... waaaay past their whole board of directors that no one will want to read and will probably click away from the page immediately after seeing rather than reading further.

Again, all of this is hidden AFTER their board of directors list. Which is interesting.

Their policies, their beliefs, and what they are striving for has not changed whatsoever. A quick glance at their website might have you believing that it has, but no. This proves it has not.

Further down, we finally get to their position statements, which you can only find by clicking a hyperlink at the very bottom of this page - there is no easy way to get to it.

Their statement on meat rabbits is... exactly what you would expect: They are against raising rabbits for consumption by anyone for any reason.

Their statement on fur remains that they are 100% against fur, though they have amended their statement on angora wool to specify that, if someone is spinning wool gained from grooming their pet angora, that is perfectly ok to use in their opinion. That seems like it should be a no-brainer, but I saw someone keeping an angora 100% to HRS standards who posted something they made with the rabbit's wool get absolutely torn to shreds in the comments by HRS supporters for using the wool at all, saying that the wool should have been thrown out because the angora owner was "exploiting" their rabbit. So. Having this be specified hopefully at the very least prevents that from happening again. They are still against angora wool from literally any other circumstance, though. Because of course they are.

Then comes their statement on breeding. They specify multiple times on multiple occasions that they believe all rabbits should be spayed and neutered (again, if that happens, no rabbits would be able to breed, and we would no longer have domestic rabbits), but in their statement on breeding they simply say that they believe breeding rabbits should not happen whatsoever until the "overpopulation crisis" has been solved. I shouldn't have to say what a flawed stance on breeding that is. If there aren't rabbits being bred, if all rabbits are spayed and neutered, then there will be no rabbits left to breed once the "overpopulation crisis" is solved the way they want it to be solved (i.e. by all unhoused rabbits being adopted as pets). They can say all they want that their real goal is to make sure no more rabbits end up in shelters, abandoned outside, or (in their words) as "snake food" (poor snakes), but unless the ultimate end goal is to eliminate all domestic rabbits, the way they are advocating for solving this problem will always hurt more than it helps.

WHOOF. What a journey. Thanks for taking this journey with me, folks. Remember: a reputable breeder who gets their information from experience, from other reputable breeders, and from well-conducted scientific studies will always be one of the best places to learn about rabbits from, NOT a group that can't even create an agenda that won't ultimately harm, kill, or even eliminate domestic rabbits entirely.

TL;DR: No, House Rabbit Society really hasn't changed. They have updated some of their statements for the better, such as changing their stance on pellets from "pellets are trash" to pellets are actually a good feed option, but their positions on rabbits, rabbit meat, and rabbit breeding remain the same albeit even more hidden than they were before.

[golden-flute]

TDP S7 Spoilers

I lack the capacity and the energy to articulate all my thoughts about the final season of The Dragon Prince in any meaningful way, but here are some highlights of my thoughts, in no particular order:

SPOILERS AND RAMBLINGS BELOW.

Runaan is officially back in business, baby! This was the slowest burn to get one of my favorite characters back, but I ate up every scene with him in it, particularly his reunion with Ethari, and how much of a dad he was in his other scenes. 11/10, no notes.

Allen picked Runaan up like he was a doll, lol. I snorted at that part.

Ethari is so gorgeous, I kept staring at him every time he was on screen. Love the new hairstyle. And his and Runaan's reunion, have I mentioned that?

I'm actually kind of surprised that nothing happened with Soren and Corvus. I thought at least Corvus might confess his feelings, even if Soren didn't reciprocate. I don't know if I wasn't reading into it right, but I got some major pining vibes in S6 from Corvus.

I KNEW HARROW WAS THE FUCKING BIRD. Omg, they waited until the end of the show to reveal that?!?

Which leads me to my next point. I know Aaron Ehasz has teased that he wants to make another show based in Xadia, and absolutely none of the characters felt like their entire stories had been satisfactorily closed by the end. Are we actually getting more, or is Aaron Ehasz just setting things up, just in case Netflix agrees to greenlight more?

Claudia's story didn't conclude at all. Neither did Aaravos'. He kept saying "If you kill me, I'll be back in seven years," and they didly-done killed him. So...??? Seven-year time-skip??? I would enjoy seeing these characters aged up again.

UM HELLO DANTE BASCO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? Playing another dragon, I see. <3

LET AMAYA CURSE IN THE TIME SKIP. JUSTICE FOR AMAYA'S POTTY MOUTH.

BYE KARIM. I hated him, and it wasn't just that he was an irredeemable POS, it was that he was so fucking annoying as a character. He was like a cockroach. Every time he came back for another season, I just sighed. I wish they would have gotten rid of him sooner. He didn't DO anything different, or anything worth coming back over and over again. There was nothing to add to his story, and it was super boring. I wish they would have killed him in a season or two, because then part of Janai's arc could have been how to mourn someone whom you had a complicated relationship with. Anyway, thank you for your service, Aaravos, you glorious bastard. And with such... flair, lol.

Rayllum was super adorable, as per usual. Loved it, no notes.

Stella using her portals to straight up decapitate that one dark beast??? Um???? I was legitimately like O_O

I'll be honest, I was kind of taken off guard by Ezran's reaction to Runaan's presence in ep 1. I did appreciate that he sort of failed to walk his own talk about forgiveness, and how it can be hard when you're facing the actual person who killed your family, but boy, I was not expecting the sudden 180 from him! I am glad, though, that in the end, he didn't give an outright, tearful forgiveness or anything. I genuinely think he offered his tentative forgiveness only because his love for Rayla was stronger than his hatred for Runaan. And that's so real. It doesn't have to be all or nothing. There are complicated feelings there, and they did a good job of showing that you can forgive without forgetting. And Ezran has always been this voice of calm and peace--it was interesting to explore some darker themes from him.

I was so glad to see Terry play a larger role this season! He's always been Claudia's yes-man, but in this one, he was actually calling the shots himself, and it was fabulous. His and Soren's bro moments were wholesome goodness I didn't know I needed.

Goodbye, Arch Dragons. :(

I wonder what happened to Amaya's elf interpreter friend. I can't remember their name, but I didn't even see them in the crowd at Everkind. Hope they're well!

Phoe-Phoe's back!! And Lujanne's up!

Oh, we never saw Ellis and Ava again. Huh.

That whole thing with Soren and Claudia's mom (Lyssa)... I do wish there had been more there. It was interesting to hear Soren's decision that he didn't want to see her, but still carried her picture on his person. And I'm glad they didn't force him to reconnect with her--not every estranged parent-child relationship has to be something salvageable, and TDP has always been a show I trust to represent realistic relationships, be they objectively positive, negative, or in between. But I do wish we'd had time to linger with him on that decision, maybe have a conversation between him and Corvus about it. Lyssa's presence, or lack thereof, was such a big part of season 6, it just felt like there wasn't much closure there, even if it was a conversation. Perhaps they're leaving that exploration open for a second show?

Avizandum returning was pretty cool. RIP Zubeia, though, she was awesome.

The Novum Blade was cool, but... they didn't really do much with it. Is that another "tuck away for the future" thing, mayhaps? Anyway, that's enough for now. All-in-all, I think S6 was my favorite season, followed by S3, but I think it was mostly because I felt like more questions were asked than answered by the end of S7. But hopefully, that means we might get more Dragon Prince content in the future! I wouldn't be opposed to that!

[spenciegoob]

Dethroned (Requested)

A/N: I know the request said the relationship between Reader and Luke is platonic, but I kinda dropped subtle hints that Luke is slightly pining for Reader... oop.

Request: smutty post-prison Reid being jealous. Like him just being absolutely in love with reader, like he had been since she joined the BAU but was too nervous to say anything so settled for being mega close best friends. Then when he returns from prison he finds out that her and Luke have become close friends whilst he’s been gone (its simply platonic though) and he ends up snapping and just absolutely annihilating the reader over her desk in the office after everyone else has left

Pairing: Post Prison!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: jealous!spencer, exhibition, hair pulling, degradation/praise, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.9K

______

It was a gradual realization on his part. Spencer was so overwhelmed with coming home, his mom and Cat to even really take notice in the shift of your attention from him to Luke Alvez.

It wasn’t like you completely ignored him since his return. You were Spencer’s best friend, the title he settled on all those years ago when you all but skipped into the BAU and into his life.

And it wasn’t like you didn’t have other male friends. Before his leave, Derek and you had gotten along pretty well right off the bat, and Spencer never thought about it twice. If anything, he was ecstatic that two people that were so important in his life were also important to each other.

But when Spencer was stuck behind physical bars that represented every feeling for you he’s tried to keep at bay, you found comfort in Luke. He couldn’t blame you for that either, especially when the first time you visited him all he could see was hurt in your eyes, and all he could do was stare back with the same expression.

The first time he noticed the shift was after everything had settled, and the groove of life, for the team at least, was back in motion. You all had decided to go out and grab a drink, and the second you agreed, Spencer was also on board. He would follow you just about anywhere if it meant the smile on your face when he said yes stayed forever.

Luke had whispered something in your ear, the music in the bar too loud for Spencer to catch what it was. It had to be hilarious by the way you threw your head back in laughter, Luke’s eyes immediately dropping to the newly exposed skin, before nudging his shoulder with yours. 

Spencer couldn't keep his eyes off the conversation in front of him. He should have when the grip on his glass was so hard it could’ve shattered. 

“You know, kid, if you talked to her, she’d know how you feel,” Rossi had told him that night.

“That’s exactly why I can’t,” Spencer thought in his head, but merely gave Rossi a whatever, and walked away to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror that night, hoping the disgust he felt for how angry he got whenever he saw you with Luke was enough to make it disappear.

It never did.

Like right now, Spencer sat at his desk, a rubber band ball being suffocated in his hand as he watched you perch yourself on top of Luke’s desk. It was an innocent act on you part, but the way Luke leaned back in his chair, opening himself up to you, and allowed his eyes to flicker to your bare legs that were swinging back and forth softly was definitely not innocent... not in Spencer’s book anyway.

It came as no surprise to Spencer that Luke would at the very least find you attractive. You were, in every aspect. Spencer could stare at your for hours, and sometimes, he did.

He would look at the way your skirt hugged your curves in the best possible way, or he would stare at your neck when you leaned back to stretch out. He would watch the way you crossed and uncrossed your legs, a nervous habit you’ve always had. Spencer would think about how soft they probably were, like silk rubbing against each other.

But now Luke was also looking at you like that while you talked about what you were going to do this weekend. 

“If you’re not busy, you should totally come,” you told him, obviously excited with the idea of Luke tagging along to wherever you planned on going.

“Yeah, I think I can make that work,” he agreed, and when he did, you jumped up off his desk, enthusiasm practically dripping from you.

“Yes! It’ll be so much fun, I promise!” And then you did the one thing Spencer silently begged you would never. You kissed Luke on the cheek before scurrying back to your desk.

Of course you would kiss him on the cheek. To you, that was a seemingly innocent and friendly action, one that Spencer had been on the receiving end of for the past 10 years. 

But now, Luke stole his crown and was flaunting it in front of Spencer’s face like an older brother who just got an XBOX for Christmas. Okay, maybe Spencer was a tad on the dramatic side, but how could he not be when Luke all but physically railed you over his desk when his eyes unashamedly did?

There were many things Spencer could take and get back up like nothing had happened. He’s been shot, punched, kicked, framed for murder and hell, he even stabbed himself, but none of that compared to the deep rooted anger that blossomed in his chest like a flame to gasoline when the thought of Luke touching you swarmed his brain.

Enough was enough.

“Alright, you’ve all worked enough today. Please, go home and get some rest,” Emily’s voice traveled from outside her office door to the agents that still inhabited the bullpen like a second home. Most, including Emily in its rarity, gathered their stuff to finally call it a night.

“So, you’ll text me the information?” Luke asked you as he was putting his jacket on. You had yet to move from your slouched position over whatever paperwork you insisted on finishing before leaving. 

“Yeah, definitely!” You beamed up at him before returning back to your case file immediately. Luke walked away with a little more pep in his step than usual per Spencer’s analysis. 

“Hey, Spence. Do you think you can hang back a second and look over this for me?” You asked him, catching the attention of the stumbling genius as he tried to get back to his apartment as fast as possible and deal with his... issues with you and SSA Luke Alvez.

He was going to say no, really he tried, but when he looked up to your puppy dog eyes and slight pout, how could he? Spencer knew you were giving him that face on purpose, he had told you in the past that if you were to ever give him your best puppy dog eyes, he could never refuse.

Now it was coming back to bite him in the...

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Spencer made his way over to your desk that was piled high in paperwork more than anyone else’s.

“I took a bunch of work home, and I accidentally dropped all my files and they scattered every where. So now, all the paperwork is mixed up and Emily needs these by tonight. Basically I’m screwed, but I just wanted to make sure the arsonist in Kentu-”

“I’ll help you,” Spencer interrupted your rambling once he got a grip on himself after adjusting to being so close to you. The smell of your perfume wafted into Spencer’s nose and got him drunk faster than any alcohol could ever. 

“Oh no, Spence. Don’t worry I can handle this,” you immediately shut him down, but Spencer was not easy to convince, and once his mind is set to something, there’s no changing it.

“I want to, trust me.” Spencer had started to roll his desk chair over to you. You sat there momentarily stunned for two reasons:

1. He had dropped everything to help you.

2. He wasn’t affected by the close proximity of you two the same way you were, or at least knew how to hide it really well.

The buzzing of your phone on your desk pulled you from your trance as Spencer settled next to you and went to pull a new file from your overgrowing pile. 

You picked it up to find a text from Luke, opening your phone to a picture of Roxy enjoying the toy you got her last week.

Spencer turned to you to find you smiling and letting out a breathy laugh at your phone.

“What?” He asked, more sarcasm dripping from his tone than expected. If you noticed, you didn’t say anything.

“Just Luke and Roxy. I love that dog so much,” you said while putting your phone on silent and setting it face down. You didn’t look up at Spencer, but if you did you’d find him beet red with anger, and holding the armrests of his chair a little tighter than necessary. 

“Hm,” was all he mumbled in response. This, you didn’t ignore.

“Is something wrong? You really don't have to do this with me,” you fumbled over your words, worried that your clumsiness and disorganization was what was annoying Spencer.

“No no, it’s not this. I like paperwork, actually.” You finally looked over at Spencer to find him already staring at you. His gaze bore into you like a blade to the gut, his intensity something you had never been on the receiving end of. It would be a lie if you were to say it wasn’t making you nervous.

“Then what is it.” Your words were not meant to come out as a whisper, but with Spencer’s intimidation and the way it made your stomach flip, you were overwhelmed already.

“Nothing, just, uh,” his confident persona was gone just as quickly as it came. “You and Luke, huh?”

Now it makes sense. You couldn’t help the small smile that etched across your features at his unknowing admission. Spencer Reid was jealous, actually jealous.

“Yeah, he’s a great friend.” Your emphasis on the word friend did not go unnoticed by Spencer, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting the words crawling up his throat out.

“I’m sure he thinks the same about you. The profile in this case fi-”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Two can play at this game, and if it was going to end the way the two of you were unknowingly both hoping, you would have to succumb to the rules.

“Hm? Oh! So you’re oblivious to the way he looks at you?” Spencer spat back, jealous intimidation turning to full anger now.

“Jesus, Spencer. Of course I’m not oblivious, but that doesn’t mean I look at him like that.” At this point, you stood up from your chair, Spencer’s approach throwing you off and getting you more worked up than you cared to admit.

“Besides, I have eyes for someone else,” you mumbled quietly under your breath, but Spencer caught it. “I’m calling the night. I suggest you do the same.”

You picked up as many files you could, not wanting to reach over Spencer before turning around to make you descent home.

Before you could get far, though, Spencer grabbed your elbow and spun you back to crash into his hard chest. You gasped, not making eye contact and instead opting for staring at his lips.

“Who?” Spencer asked, also not looking up from your lips. Both of your minds swarmed with the desperation to feel each other’s against your own.

“You.” And that was all he needed to finally succumb to his mind’s wishes. Your lips moved together like a violin bow to a string, creating a perfectly conducted symphony of files falling from your arms and deep inhales of each other.

Spencer reached out behind you, never taking his lips off yours and pushed anything that was on your desk with a deafening crash. Pens, papers and tape now littered the bullpen floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when all you could feel were Spencer’s hands gripping your waist as he hoisted you up to sit you on your now clear desk.

His lips finally detached from yours, the need for oxygen getting in the way of a kiss you wish could last for eternity. They didn’t go very far, Spencer attacking your neck with little nips, surely to leave incriminating bruises. Your hips started to involuntarily roll forward, searching for friction from his hardening member still constrained by his work slacks.

“Spencer, please,” you begged, needing to feel him, all of him at this moment. His lips abandoned your neck to slowly pull back and scan your body like a predator indulging in his final prey one last time before he answered.

“Please what, Princess,” Spencer whispered, his hands moving down to grip your thighs that were attempting to squeeze together at your new pet name.

“Please, fuck me,” you whimpered back. His deep chuckle resonated through you as he leaned closer until he was directly next to your ear, his hot breath fanning down your neck causing you to arch your back slightly.

“Right here on your desk like a little whore,” he whispered against you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. Spencer shook his head slightly as he pulled back to grab your chin lightly with two fingers, forcing your head back.

He leaned in as close as possible to whisper against your lips one last time. “Only for you.”

Time stopped as hands sped up in a frenzy to rip each other’s clothes off, lips molding together like a lock and key never wanting to separate, and hips involuntarily grinding against each other in search for some friction in an overwhelming search for release.

Only when Spencer gave up on your shirt buttons and ripped the fabric apart, adding drums in the form of buttons hitting the desk and floor to the song you two collectively decided to dance to tonight, did he allow his lips to leave yours. Slowly, he nipped his way back down your neck, pushing you back softly until your body fully rolled down on the cool wood underneath you. 

Spencer’s eyes found yours again as his hands inched behind you, silently asking for permission to break down yet another barrier between your two bodies. After a pleading whimper from you, he unclasped your bra and slowly pulled it down your arms. 

Spencer maintained eye contact as he wrapped his mouth around your nipple, swirling his tongue around the peak before sinking his teeth in teasingly. Your back arched into him, a strangled whimper leaving your body as the heat between your thighs increased significantly.

“Spencer please hurry. I need you,” you whimpered softly, pulling his hair back from the top of his head in hopes of getting him in an area far more dire in need of attention. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Spencer mumbles in between kisses inching back up your body. His hands make their way under your skirt as he continues. “I want to take my time with you, but given our circumstances,” he paused to take a look at the deserted bullpen. “I’ll give you what you want, and fuck you like a whore.”

There was no other way to explain the way Spencer ripped your panties off so hard the lace snapped under his force than animalistic. He wasted no time stuffing them into his back pocket, and fully separating from you to stand straight and unbuckle his belt. Spencer’s eyes stared down at you, taking in every part of your body to file away in his brain in case he ever needs it. His once honey brown orbs were now absorbed with black, his pupils full and his eyes displaying a kind of fire only lust can fuel.

Once his belt was fully off, he smirked and folded it in his hands. Staring at the new object of his desire, he tantalizingly shook it back and forth slowly, watching the way it bounced with his movements.

“Should I gag you with this so you don't alert the whole goddamn building of how desperate you are?” Spencer looked back at you to find your cheeks a deep shade of red, partially at his degrading tone, but mostly at the idea of being gagged.

“No, sir. I wanna feel you.” The title slipped past your lips with no control or hesitation. Your cheeks burned further as Spencer’s movements stopped, his eyes widening slightly. 

“Fuck it,” he whispered before throwing the belt on the floor and unzipping his pants with more speed than you've ever seen him move. 

Spencer gave you zero time to even register his size before he was stepping in between your legs, lining himself up and slamming into you to the hilt with one hand, the other grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling back hard, all while never taking his eyes off you.

You couldn’t stop the loud gasp leaving your body as Spencer groaned at the feeling of you around him.

“God, you’re so fucking tight, Princess,” he grounded out, the soft growl in his tone causing you to whimper and clench around him.

When he felt you start to squirm underneath him after adjusting to his size, Spencer started to move, setting a brutal pace immediately. Your entire body felt like it became engulfed in flames, the feeling of Spencer repeatedly hitting the sweetest spot inside you over and over with a force unmatched was too much to handle.

Tears started to well in your eyes as the soft whimpers and pleads left your lips. Spencer pulled himself from his position tucked neatly into your neck to stare down at you, never relenting on his pace.

“What’s wrong, Princess,” he teased, a smirk growing across his features at your tears. “Is it too much for your little cunt? What happened to the girl that begged to be fucked like a whore?”

Spencer let go of his grip on your hair to wipe the tears blackened with mascara that were running down your face. 

“So good, sir. Please don’t stop,” you mumbled, only half coherent. The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Spencer filling you completely. His dark eyes flickered down from your face only for a second, but when he looked back up at you, excitement joined the lust in them, a swirl of emotions destined to destroy you in the end.

Spencer grabbed one of your hands that was gripping his shoulder, nails digging into the skin and leaving marks he wished would last forever. He placed in on your stomach, and confusion filled your mind for a moment until you felt the tip of his cock hit your hand.

“You feel that, Princess? You feel how deep I am? I’m gonna fill you up.” Your back arched, and you finally released a loud, wanton moan at his words. Spencer didn’t miss the way you clenched around him tighter at the thought. “God, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, make you - fuck- carry my child. Make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”

You felt the knot in your stomach growing tighter with each word, and when Spencer lifted one of your legs into the crook of his elbow, hitting you impossibly deeper, you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

“Oh G-god, Spence. I- I’m gonna....”

“It’s okay, Princess. I’ve got you,” he groaned back, lifting two fingers to your lips before forcing them into your mouth. Instinctively, you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked on his digits. “Let go, Princess.”

All you needed was his permission before letting your orgasm rock through you, the muscles in your body seemingly losing and gaining all the tension in the world at once, your vision going white, and your mind blank except for one thought; Spencer.

Your loud moans were blocked by his fingers pushing deeper down your throat, catching them before any unwanted guests could hear. 

Your moans started to turn to whimpers around his fingers as the overstimulation kicked in. Spencer could sense it by the way you still clung to him as tightly as possible.

“Fuck that’s it. You’re doing so well, Princess, taking all of me,” he growled out, his hips losing their rhythm, signaling his own impending orgasm. Spencer leaned down further, pushing your leg farther up in the process, and again, hitting you deeper than imaginable.

Two more sloppy thrusts in that position, and Spencer was coming deep in you with your name and different praises being groaned in your ear. He bottomed out once more, coming to a stop buried deep, both of you trying your hardest to catch your breath.

When he started to pull out, you whimpered immediately at the feeling.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m almost done,” Spencer whispered, caressing your cheek as he fully unsheathed himself. The abandoned weight of him on top of you, and the loss of his cock filling you up left you cold as he went to rummage through your drawers for tissues, but all you could do was stare up at the lights hanging from the ceiling, your body still slightly twitching.

When Spencer returned to you, he sat you up and kissed your forehead before reaching in between your legs to clean you up. The second the tissue hit your sensitive cunt, you winced.

Spencer looked back up at you but before he could say anything, you cut him off.

“It’s okay. I’m okay,” you reassured him, smiling softly as you reached up to caress his cheek. Upon your approval, he went back to cleaning you up. “Actually, I’m more than okay. That was.. That was-”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. “I know, right?”

“Maybe we should thank Luke,” you teased him. Immediately, his smile faded and he looked up at you with an expression that can only read “Seriously?”

You let out a full laugh now, obviously still entertained with the idea that the Dr. Spencer Reid was jealous of Luke Alvez.

“I’m joking,” you said, your smile turning from one of hilarity to adoration as Spencer straightened back up to stand between your legs and wrap his arms around your waist. “And Spence, it’s always been you. Not Luke, not anyone else. You.” You emphasized your point by jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Good, because that would make this really awkward,” he said back. You tilted your head in confusion to which he laughed at before continuing. “Do you want to go grab dinner?”

Your cheeks blushed profusely as he asked you out as if you didn’t just let him take you over your own desk at work. 

“I would love to say yes, but I still have to finis-” When you turned around to look at the pile of paperwork you had yet to complete, it was no longer on your desk, but scattered around it. During the rush of trying to feel each other completely, the two of you failed to notice the stack of files that started this whole thing had fallen all over the bullpen floor.

“Emily is going to kill me,” you said, turning back to Spencer who was still staring at the now empty spot on your desk.

“Actually, she has two reasons to kill us now.” You threw you head back in laughter, Spencer joining you at the thought of Emily finding out about the last 30 minutes. “But seriously, you go deal with the security footage, and I’ll deal with the paperwork.”

“Hmmmm...” You pretended to ponder the thought of not having to do all of that paperwork by yourself anymore. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Spencer repeated back, smiling softly before kissing you one more time.

__

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[nialltlynch]

kk 2022 reading roundup

total books read this year: 41!! (which is a lot. to me)

my goal, as it has been the past couple years, is at least two books per month. and. dear reader, in the interest of being truthful and fair, I did not meet my goal. july wasnt a great month for both for interpersonal reasons and also because I was coming down the high of having read the gideon the ninth and harrow the ninth. so like. everything kinda tasted like dirt yknow what I mean? I read ZERO books that month. other than that, I did read a bit more than I did last year so it's a win all around

overall I do feel like this was a bit weaker. the majority of the books were fine. interesting enough to finish but not really memorable once closed. not as many of them hit quite very hard BUT the ones that did were INSANEEEEEEEE which! fine! okay! not all books are going to be mind blowers but I think it made reading this year feel a little bit more like a slog than previous. blah. you win some you lose some.

that being said, im only counting books that ive finished but I did start far more books that I ended up not finishing. I mayyyyy come back to some because I might not have been in the right place but idk. im still a very picky reader I think.

random observations:

i overwhelmingly read women writers. this is not by design. kinda neat i guess

i purposely try to read a variety of authors instead of delving into one author's bibliography (except shirley jackson, who has my heart). maybe next year I'll try to read more deeply into author's I enjoy??? we shall see

im surprised that apparently my top genre for the year is horror? i think the bulk of that is because shirley jackson is labeled horror which i suppose i have to agree with though i never considered myself a horror enjoyer. I think id like to delve more into the genre next year but ummmm im squeamish and I get scared and start shaking all over very easy ((:

i should read longer books. ill admit seeing an ebook with 300+ pages and preemptively mentally checking out....... this habit will probably follow me into the new year unfortunately )):

anyway. here are my rambling nothing thoughts on my top 10 reads this year!

top 10:

Harrow the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir | easily one of the most succulent, juicy, mind searingly delicious things I've consumed in..... I don't even know how long. possibly ever. all my thoughts can be summed up as: ooga booga

Hangsaman - Shirley Jackson | ive read a lot of shirley jackson this year and I think ive read all her novels excepts one (the road through the wall). anyway. this fucking book. no one understands the tragedy of being a young woman quite like shirley jackson.

Our Wives Under the Sea - Julia Armfield | this is one of those rare books where a confluence of things I love all come together AND it actually works out. just off the top of my head this book has (and executes WELL): floaty yet vivid prose. sea monsters. a healthy fear of the ocean. lesbians. mundane yet sublime body horror. unanswered mysteries. it's just!!! one of those things you hear about and you're like. there's no way this is actually that good right??? and true it has issues but I personally find the blemishes forgivable. I think my biggest problem is that it feels a bit drawn out but the vibes were so pitch perfect i can barely fault it for that. anyway. absolutely had a wonderful time reading this book. I went into it with relatively high expectations (especially for me) and left delighted and fed.

The Bird's Nest - Shirley Jackson | i went back and forth a lot about which jackson book was my favorite this year and it was really difficult because 1) they're all insanely good and exactly to my tastes and 2) this was the year i read the locked tomb so...... dsjkdsjkfd decisions man. ANYWAY the vibes in this book are off the charts

The Sundial - Shirley Jackson | ms jackson does it again!!! you would think that a book about a house that becomes a prison that symbolizes some form of control inhabited by a collection of delusional rich assholes would rank a lot higher since its so so so painfully quintessentially made for kk. it's also funny! I laughed out loud a few times and it was all in good fun. let me tell you. the only times I was laughing during her other books - say, idk, hill house - was at the absurdity of it all. the sundial was legitimately good fun.

Gideon the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir | DO NOT get it twisted. just because this is number 5 does NOT mean this book didnt make me absolutely insane feral. the difference between gtn and htn as far as my love is thin. razor silk spider web fucking thin. but theyre also completely different books so ughfdhfdjh okay. im not going to get into comparisons because who knows how we'll be at it. tamsyn muir is insane (affectionate with a twinge of awe.) i, a guy who sidestepped getting into A Certain Webcomic, have had a tab open for months now with fanfic for previously mentioned Webcomic (that i know next to nothing about) because im just so hungry for more tamsyn. gimme hands waaaarabslkdsb

Salt Slow - Julia Armfield | i read this before our wives under the sea and let me tell you... it set such high expectations. i obviously like her better when she's exploring subdued terror that slowly grows and grows and grows over time but she's very good at the fanciful and the deranged. she's contemplatively imaginative and the fact that she seems to also have a love for the ocean is just gravy for me. she wrote a fun little piece called the ocean is a lesbian. it was nice.

The Last House on Needless Street - Catriona Ward | this book is like one of those old timey anatomy diagrams to me in that i feel that really sums up the overall mood of the book AND also my feelings AND also conveniently describes how i read this book. this is an S-class concept with A-class writing which is delicious and delightful because it's both wonderful as a reader AND a writer. i was unnerved from the very first page and it was equally fun to luxuriate in that slow panic as a reader and to also unravel it through scrutiny as a writer. do you get what im trying to say? (i do feel presumptious referring to myself as a writer but this book really did make me remember why i love writing. so fuck it. I am a guy who writes aka writer)

Calling a Wolf a Wolf - Kaveh Akbar | im still very wet behind the ears insofar as my poetry knowledge goes and ill admit to not really. hmm. well, "getting it" sometimes. im learning! however. that being said. this collection. ooooof. i didn't feel like i had to stretch to grasp the concept. it ate my brain though thats for sure.

Devil House - John Darnielle | this book came to me at a very opportune time because I've been putting a lot of thought into the whole. true crime thing. still chewing tbh (got caught up in other stuff) but it definitely had a lasting effect

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Three / Cappucino

Summary: Javier shows up to your coffee shop again, at an ungodly hour.

W/C: 3K

Warnings: food/eating, coffee, implied age gap (reader is about 25)

A/N: I don’t have anything to say I just hope you guys enjoy :)) OH JK YES I DO: I’ve decided that Caffeine Rush will come out on mondays or tuesdays, alternating every week!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Cappuccino: two-thirds frothed milk, one-third espresso. Light and airy, full of fluff. Has a stronger coffee flavor than a latte.

As you drive him back to the hotel, you smile over at him. He looks so gorgeous, his dark hair dampened from the snow, his lips soft and extra pink from being pressed to yours. “How long did you say you’re in town for?” You ask him.

“A month,” the man tells you with a nod. “There’s a whole policy with vacation time. Use it or lose it, basically. They told me I had to use it now, so I told them to give me a month. I really have about… three months saved up now,” he chuckles.

The thought makes you grin. Javier will be here for Christmas. He’ll be here for New Year’s- that is, if he’s staying.  “And what are your plans for it?” You ask softly. You hope whatever they are, they won’t take him away from you.

Javier is eating the second red velvet cake in the passenger’s seat, and you giggle at the sight before turning back to the road. Crumbs gather on the top of his shirt and in his mustache, flecks of red in the warm brown.

He smiles at your laughter. “I have none. I have no work to do. I can’t go back to Colombia early- well, I could, but I won’t be working so it wouldn’t be worth much,” he sighs, thinking aloud. “I could go home and visit my father, but I couldn’t stay there for very long. My hometown is a place you only want to stay for two or three days, at most.”

Your eyes watch his face, that surprisingly soft skin and how it moves with his expressions. Your eyes are holding a question, even if you don’t ask it aloud. Javier can read it without your words as he turns to look at you. “I’ve heard D.C. is nice over the holidays,” you offer softly. It’s less of an offer and more of a silent question: please stay. I want you to stay.

Turning back to you, there’s cream cheese frosting in his mustache and an adorable smirk on his face. Just when you thought it was impossible for this man to be any more beautiful. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Then, like I said earlier, I have time to properly romance you.”

You grin and stare at the road. “I don’t normally kiss on the first date. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you to romance me,” you tease. “I can be your personal tour guide to the city. I only work mornings, so we can do whatever we want all day and night. Which is good, because the Smithsonians are only open during the day, and I want to take you to all of them.”

You ramble when you’re excited. Javier can already tell, can see you slowly leaving that shell you’ve hidden yourself in through all of your time in D.C. Your eyes glimmer in excitement as you consider the things you can do, the places you can take him.

Javier smiles back. “You’ll have to show me everything. I’ve never been here for anything other than work.”

“Oh, trust me,” you laugh. “I know all the best parts of the city. You’ll never be bored with me around.”

Javier’s immediately certain that’s true.

-

You told Javier last night that you work from 5:00  to 10:30, and he told you he’d swing by for a coffee. What else did he have to do without you?

What you didn’t expect was for the door chime to jingle at precisely 5:34, and for the customer that enters to be none other than the newest head of the DEA’s investigations into the Cali Cartel.

Rushing around the counter, you laugh and throw your arms around him. “Hi, Javi,” you chuckle and bury your face into his neck. He wears a warm red flannel and dark blue jeans, boots beneath them and a thick black coat over it all. He smells like soap and aftershave.

“I’m starting to like the fact that you’re a hugger,” he laughs as he hugs you back, resting his head on top of yours.

You break away and brush off your apron. “When I said you should come visit me, I meant, like, at normal human functioning hours. Like, maybe 9 or something.”

Javier frowns a little as he looks at you. “This is when I normally get up. Later than normal, actually,” he shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “You got a dark roast this morning?” He asks as he nods his head to the side, gesturing to the big vats of brewing coffee.

You smile at the question, chuckling a little. Of course he’s observant and remembers little details- it’s his literal job. “We do. Large redeye?” You ask, already heading behind the counter and back to the ceramic mugs.

The man tilts his head. “Actually… I think I changed my mind. Can I do another peppermint mocha?” he asks, a shy look on his face.

Looking up at him, you bite your lip at his expression. He’s so goddamn cute, really, even when he’s being ashamed for something stupid. “You don’t have to be shy about it,” you tease and nod. “There’s nothing less manly about you for ordering something sweet. In fact, most of the sweet drinks we make here are ordered by the business guys or Congressmen.”

Javier chuckles and leans forward on the counter on his elbows. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod and laugh at the memory of other customers. “Matthew, he works at the senators’ offices downtown, he’s a regular. He orders a caramel frappe with marshmallow and vanilla. Full shots of both.” As always, you happily chat as you make the recipe you know by heart.

Javier’s brow furrows. You’ve known the man maybe 24 hours, but you’re starting to get a good read on him. You can tell when he’s confused or worried or happy or stressed by the way his eyebrows position themselves. This one is a lighthearted confusion. “What’s a frappe?”

Your eyes glimmer with uncharacteristic excitement for so early in the morning. “Wait. So you’re telling me you’ve never had one?”

He shakes his head, pulling his leather jacket tighter around him. The shop is cold this early in the morning, before the body heat of customers and the steaming espresso machines warm the building. “No. What is it?” He asks again.

“It’s delicious, oh my god,” you grin. “It’s kind of like a coffee milkshake. It’s frozen and creamy, blended with ice and coffee. It’s my favorite in the summer, when hot drinks just feel too much.”

“So it’s light?” He asks, gratefully accepting his ceramic mug when you hand it over. It’s peaked with foamy white cream and pieces of candy canes. Javier thinks it reminds him of you. Soft, warm, sweet and indulgent. Energizing. Not like anything he’s ever had before, but he’s already addicted.

“Not really. Like I said, it’s really creamy. It’s like a milkshake, really. That’s the best way to describe it. Do you want me to make one and you can try some?” You offer as you stir the spare espresso shot with a little cream and sugar in a to-go cup for yourself. The warm sugary scent rises and you smile to yourself.

Javier shakes his head. “Not if it’s a cold drink. It’s too cold outside anyway. And in here. You do have heating in here, right?” He asks dryly as he sips the hot drink. You can see his broad shoulders soften, the tension rising into the air with the steam from his mocha.

You roll your eyes but shrug. “It’ll get hot in here later. I just appreciate that it’s cold now,” you chuckle and chug the espresso shot, tossing the paper cup into the garbage. “What can I get you for breakfast?” You ask as you nod to the pastry case further down the bar.

He shakes his head. “Don’t eat breakfast.”

You frown. “That’s going to have to change. You seem like the type who doesn’t take care of yourself, thinks he’s too good for it,” you tease and fold your arms on the countertop, leaning into it.

Javier scoffs. “I am not too good for breakfast,” he says, amused.

“Then eat.”

The mustached man rolls his eyes. “Fine. Maybe I don’t take very good care of myself, but I don’t need you to take care of me.”

That makes you frown. “Well, that’s too bad, because if you want to kiss me like we did last night, you’re going to have to let me take care of you, Javi.”

Javi. No one ever calls him that. He’s always Agent or Agente Peña, usually just Peña for the sake of convenience. Those who know him better call him Javier, people like Steve or Trujillo. True, he asked you to call him Javi, but the name is like a song from your lips, as soft as calling him baby. He absolutely fucking loves it. Can’t get enough of it.

You begin to babble on about the baker here and his skills, talking about the various treats beneath the glass case. There are muffins and scones, donuts and sweet breads, croissants and various puff-pastry delicacies. Javier is overwhelmed. He normally doesn’t eat many sweets, even though he loves them.

A cinnamon-sugar sprinkled pastry twist calls to him. He asks for one of those and insists that he pay for it, even as you wander away from the cash register to prove he can’t pay.

Javier stands at the bar as you make yourself your own hot drink, chatting as you stir the syrup with the espresso. God, you love that mustache, you think as you smile to yourself and look down. “So. How did the mustache come to be?” You ask him, smiling and tilting your head to the side in question.

Javier raises an eyebrow. “This?” He laughs, smoothing it down with his forefinger and thumb. It brushes out some sprinkles of cinnamon and sugar from his pastry and you bite your lip to hold back a laugh.

You both have to talk a bit louder as you begin steaming the milk for your cappuccino, but it hides your giggle as you say your next words: “Yes, the porn stache.”

“Hey,” he frowns and sips his drink, setting it back down and smiling again. “It was a thing with my father. When I turned 30, he told me I was a real man now, and real men wear mustaches. He always had one, so I said okay. He shaved it for me and taught me the right way to do it and everything. I liked the way it looked, and it stuck, I guess,” he shrugs and chuckles.

“Really? Because that thing looks straight out of 1975, but I don’t think you’re old enough for it to be that old.” You giggle. The mustache is very retro, certainly behind the times and the fashion of ‘93. “You can’t possibly be… what would that make you from ‘75… 45?”

Javier shrugs. “Well, you’re not far off. I’m 40.”

Your brow furrows. You certainly hadn’t expected that. He looks so young, really. 40 wasn’t even a thought in your mind- maybe a stressed-out 30. “Really?” You ask, though you doubt he’d lie and make himself seem older. He should probably know that you’re around the proper age you are, seeing as you’ve told him about just finishing grad school.

He frowns too. “Is that a problem?” He asks hurriedly, standing up straight from his hunched position, where he leaned over the counter to be closer to you.

“No, no,” you shake your head, and his body relaxes. “Of course not,” you smile and put your hand over his. “You just look really young for 40.”

Javier shakes his head, smiling a little at the compliment. He doesn’t get many of those, the ones where people tell him he looks young or he’s cute or any non-sexual compliments in general. “No I don’t. You’re just being cute.”

“No!” You laugh happily. “You saw my face. You’re a special agent of the D-E-A,” you say, drawing out the letters. “Head of the Calí Cartel investigations. You can read me like a damn book, Javi,” you smile at him. “Tell me, do I look like I’m lying?”

Javier shakes his head, the smile growing wider and his cheeks turning a slightly warmer shade. These kind of honest, pure and uncomplicated compliments make him almost embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, brushing it off.

You’re absolutely beaming by now. “You’re not used to this, are you?” You tease as you scoop the foam from the milk pitcher into your ceramic mug, with chocolate and almond syrup in the bottom already. Mandy’s in the back stocking something, and no one else is in the shop yet. With this privacy, you lean across the counter, and Javier matches your position.

His face is painfully close to yours. You can feel his coffee breath, and you giggle softly. “Hey. Javi.”

“Yeah?” He asks teasingly.

“I like you a lot.”

Javier laughs genuinely, kissing you softly for a moment before breaking away and standing up straight again. “I like you too, abejita,” he says and finishes off his peppermint mocha.

“What does that mean?” You ask him. You’re nearly fluent in Spanish, from having studied it for years, but the word is unfamiliar.

“Little bee,” he chuckles. “You’re fluttering around this coffee shop like you’re on an adrenaline rush and it’s 5:30 in the goddamn morning.”

Little bee. It makes your heart race in your chest like a bee’s wings, a million beats per second. Goddamnit, this Javier knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He must be doing this for the sole purpose of stealing your heart; why else would he be this fucking sweet and sexy and flirtatious?

“It’s the caffeine rush,” you shake your head and wave a hand dismissively. You’ve already chugged a few shots of espresso, and your chocolate-almond cappuccino is about halfway gone now. Either way, Javier makes your resting heart rate double just from looking your way.

“Sure,” he teases and raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna hit the bathroom. Be right back.” He sticks his hands in the pockets of his heavy wool coat as he heads to the restrooms, near the front of the store.

You take his mug back and Mandy wanders out from the back. “Wow. Who’s got you so chatty?” She asks out of genuine curiosity. She didn’t see Javier come in or go to the bathroom.

You’d talked with Mandy while you prepared the store, filling her in on all of the details of last night’s date with Javier. “It’s, uh, Javi, actually,” you laugh softly as you pull more espresso shots to make him another peppermint mocha.

“You’re kidding,” the woman squeals, her curls flipping over her shoulder as she tosses them back. “Why is he here so early?” She asks in confusion, making herself a drink on the machine next to you.

Your foot taps out a quick rhythm against the tile floor beneath you, the energy already flowing through your body. “Beats me. He says he wakes up this early normally. I don’t know if I believe it, but…” you shrug and stir the shots into the peppermint syrup, scooping chocolate chips into a steaming pitcher with milk and putting it under the steaming wand.

“He’s in the DEA, isn’t he?” She asks. “Maybe they start work really early in the morning. I’ve heard they work really long hours.”

“Well, he did say he works a lot,” you nod. “I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. He’s here now and he’ll get to see me cry my way through the morning rush,” you say sarcastically.

Mandy nudges your shoulder. “Says the most competent barista who works here,” she scoffs. “You have everyone out the door in under three minutes. That’s no easy feat.”

“Okay,” you roll your eyes and pour the chocolate milk into the syrup and espresso, stirring it with a long, twisted spoon. “I doubt that, but thank you.” You swirl a perfect peak of whipped cream on the top, then sprinkle the candy cane pieces on.

“I think she’s right,” you hear Javier’s voice from the other side of the counter.

“Stalker,” you tease and put his mug in front of him.

“Am not. Just think you’re good at what you do.”

“I made you a refill,” you say, ignoring his compliment. “Oh, Javier, this is Mandy. You might remember her from yesterday. Mandy, this is Javier.”

She nods and shakes the hand that Javier offers. “Nice to meet you- well, again,” she says with a bright smile. “You got the prettiest girl here.”

“Mandy,” you roll your eyes. She just laughs as she makes her way to the back of the store again.

Javier watches her then turns back to you with a smile. “I think she was right on both of those,” he comments with a smile on his face.

“Go sit down, stop flirting with me, and drink your damn coffee, Javi,” you teasingly scold him with a smile, turning away to go wash the steaming pitcher and spoon you used to make his drink.

Another customer walks in the shop. You can tell from the jingle of the bells on the door. With that, Javier finds a table in the lobby and sits at it, reading the daily newspaper and sipping his peppermint mocha. He’s starting to see why you’re so addicted to these. To him, they taste like you. -

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[mostlymovieswithmax]

Movies I watched in July

Once again I’m doing my monthly round-up of movies I’ve watched. This was a good month for the cinema getting back on track and seeing new releases including the new M. Night movie, Old and James Gunn’s The Suicide Squad. Pretty sure Marvel put out a new movie also. I’m hoping that this list can help in guiding a decision about what to watch (or what to avoid) and introduce people to movies they may otherwise not have heard of or bothered to see. These short reviews are my own subjective opinions on each individual movie and maybe a more informal approach to movie criticism can help include others who are just passing through. Here is every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of July.

Bridesmaids (2011) - 4/10

Off to a good start. I won’t say Bridesmaids is a terrible movie but I don’t think I’m exactly the target audience. As far as I know, this is a beloved comedy but I just can’t get on board with all the boring, juvenile humour; with Maya Rudolph shitting in the street, with Rose Byrne and Kristen Wiig trying to one-up each other at a toast that went on forever, with Melissa McCarthy shitting in a sink… the conflict is so done to death and makes the movie feel unspecial. I do understand the appeal of the film, especially for women in that before this movie the likelihood of seeing something like this, where women play up the more crass and gross side of comedy, was probably few and far between. But the story is very tired and while I did appreciate some moments, namely a couple of decent jokes and some of the more intimate scenes, for the most part it felt like they wanted to corner a more quiet type of line delivery in a way that was supposed to be understated but very funny so as to not rely on over the top body language or musical cues, and it ended up being super dull.

Spectre (2015) - 7/10

As far as I can tell, a lot of people don’t like this instalment of the James Bond franchise… but I really enjoyed it! I’ve really taken a shine to these Daniel Craig-era Bond movies and while I can’t say any of them are the most amazing thing, I have a lot of fun with them. The biggest problem I have with Spectre is the villain being utterly pointless and uninteresting in basically every way. The idea of every villain Bond has fought before being tied to this one organisation controlled by this one guy is ridiculous, and what makes it worse is that the villain is barely in it! There’s so much that doesn’t come together in this but as it goes, I still had a really good time. Daniel Craig holds the whole thing together; he is excellent as 007 and the main reason I’m up for each of these movies is because of him. Sam Mendes directs again after the previous instalment and for what it’s worth I do think he does a good job with some of the action set pieces and the locations. I’m so ready for No Time To Die.

Shazam (2019) - 7/10

Shazam is a genuinely fun superhero movie that doesn’t take itself seriously at all. I was having a great time throughout and while it could conform to some of the same tropes we’re used to with these kinds of movies, it still remained playful and used the character of Shazam to his fullest potential in a way that showed an understanding of just how silly the idea of a kid who can turn into an adult and shoot lightning out of his hands is.

High School Musical (2006) - 6/10

So as you may or may not know, I co-host a podcast: The Sunday Movie Marathon. It’s a film podcast and every week I get together with my other co-hosts and watch movies. For episode 38, we watched the High School Musical trilogy. This first movie blew me away. I was really surprised with just how much fun I had, and if you want to hear more of my thoughts on the film, please listen to episode 38 of the podcast.

High School Musical 2 (2007) - 4/10

We then jumped into the second and while it’s certainly not as good as its predecessor, there are still some brilliant songs that manage to top the last movie. Again, more of what I have to say can be heard on episode 38 of the podcast.

High School Musical 3: Senior Year (2008) - 3/10

Senior Year was pretty hard to get through. I don’t remember it being as bad as it was, but then I didn’t really remember it anyway. It did however have one redeeming quality, which you can discover on episode 38 of the podcast.

The Piano Teacher (2001) - 9/10

What the fuuuckkkk. The Piano Teacher is horrendously affecting and I was so upset when it ended, maybe not because it’s not what I wanted but because it’s just so fucking dour and unrelenting. This is the second Haneke movie I’ve seen (after the original Funny Games) and I’m so impressed with how well executed it is. Following a woman who teaches piano, we get a glimpse into the life she lives, how sheltered she is from living with her mother at an age where you’d reasonably expect a person to be living alone or with a partner or friends (even going so far as to be sleeping in the same bed as her), and how repressed she is sexually. It’s clear she’s never experienced any kind of sexual interaction or romantic love with another person, so she goes out of her way to take control and make that happen. The upsetting nature of it comes from just what she does in pursuit of it or as a result of her repression, and what is done to her. It is by no means a movie to recommend to your parents but The Piano Teacher offers so much in terms of the ideas it presents (and I’ll admit there seems to be a lot more going on than I think I picked up on a first go round) about women in modern society, and about the portrayal of sex and expectations of people when it comes to how that is represented in a person’s character depending on their gender. I really enjoyed this movie but it is not for the faint of heart.

Sharpay’s Fabulous Adventure (2011) - 1/10

My podcast co-hosts decided it’d be a right laugh to add Sharpay’s Fabulous Adventure to this episode and that might have been a fun idea for them because they got to watch it together, but I was just watching it alone. Just a 24-year-old man watching Sharpay’s Fabulous Adventure alone and having a miserable time, I might add. But for a short and sweet ramble on what we all thought, please listen to episode 38 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

Dr. No (1962) - 6/10

A lot of very iffy parts of this movie. A lot of discomfort arising from how black people are portrayed that really didn’t sit right with me. As far as a Bond movie goes, this first instalment in the series is one I’ve seen before and it’s not wholly engaging but it plants the seeds for the rest, with Sean Connery breathing life into the role and making an otherwise lacklustre plot bearable.

Black Widow (2021) - 6/10

I think probably the best part about Black Widow is the experience I had while watching it. It was great being back in the cinema with a couple of friends in a packed theatre. The energy was high and I’m sure for a lot of people, this is the first time they’d been to the cinema since Endgame. For what it’s worth, I did have a lot of fun with Black Widow and I’ve explained more of what I thought about the movie in episode 39 of the podcast.

The Climb (2020) - 10/10

The Climb was added to Now TV recently and I already knew I loved it, having seen it in an empty cinema theatre last year, which I had an absolute blast with. The Climb details the years of a rocky friendship told over scenes filmed as one-shots. Not only is the presentation something to gawk at, but the performances by the two leads playing these friends with a terrifically dysfunctional dynamic is truly captivating. They’re both trying to figure out their own lives and where one can come across as being rather selfish, the opposite is true in his counterpart, whom everyone loves. This is a truly funny and heartwarming movie with a lot to say about how we choose to live our lives and who we choose to be with. It’s a shame the distributors of The Climb didn’t do a very good job because if not for it being available on Now TV, it would be near impossible to watch without forking out more money than is necessary to purchase a film.

From Russia With Love (1963) - 5/10

The second Bond movie. I thought perhaps I’d change my mind on it with another watch, having seen it for the first time maybe a year ago. But no, it’s still largely boring and it treats women like absolute garbage. From Russia With Love is one of those movies I forget as I watch it, and I was trying very hard (in the middle of the day!) not to fall asleep.

The Good, The Bart, and The Loki (2021) - 1/10

I don't usually talk about the short films I watch but for this I'll make an exception. As we all should know, Disney owns The Simpsons now, through their acquisition of Fox, so, coupled with another of their properties, that being Marvel, they decided to make a six-minute animated film wherein Marvel’s Loki is stranded in Springfield. This felt as though it was a minute long due to the horrendously jarring pacing; it is a movie that feels adamant that it needs to exist, while trying as hard as it can to be over as soon as possible. It serves only to stare the audience directly in the face and say “look, characters from The Simpsons are dressed as Avengers”, shit out three credit scenes, then end before you’ve even processed the atrocity you just bore witness to.

Russian Ark (2002) - 8/10

For this next episode of the podcast, we watched a few Russian movies, starting with Russian Ark, a film shot completely in one take as the camera moves about a luxurious museum in a first-person perspective as this main character watches what is happening around him, seeing people moving about the place but unable to interact with them, guided only by another man who seems to be just slightly out of his own perception of reality. This is a tremendous feat in filmmaking and more can be heard about what I have to say in episode 39 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

Ivan’s Childhood (1962) - 7/10

For my own pick of Russian movies to discuss on the podcast, I chose the debut feature from one of my favourite directors, Andrei Tarkovsky. It’s amazing that while this is not his best film by far, Ivan’s Childhood is still such a stellar debut, jumping around in its timeline as it details a child’s experience in the second world war. Again, I do go into more depth in episode 39 of the podcast, so be sure to check that out.

Outlaw (2019) - 1/10

The third movie chosen for this marathon is apparently the fourth Russian LGBTQ+ movie ever made. I’m unsure of the ultimate goal of this movie but what seems to be clear is that it hates the LGBTQ+ community. This is perhaps the worst film we’ve discussed on the podcast to date, so listen to episode 39 to understand exactly why it’s such trash.

Almost Famous (2000) - 7/10

I too love heavy music and also studied journalism so it stands to reason that a movie about a teenager who makes his way onto a band tour, following them through America and interviewing them as they hang out and play shows is going to be a premise that resonates with me. This certainly did. I enjoyed Almost Famous a lot; this kid is living the dream and I was so along for the ride, seeing a lot of myself in what was being portrayed. That said, the story itself is at times a bit by the numbers and I really would’ve been more on board if the visual component was more interesting. For what it is, technically it’s fine enough but nothing in that department ever jumped out at me.

Minari (2021) - 8/10

It’s crazy that this didn’t get a theatrical run where I live in the UK. It feels as though I complain about film distribution all the time but I really don’t understand the process by which a movie gets no cinematic release and yet, months later will pop up on the front shelf of hmv, taking pride of place. But of course I got the blu-ray straight away. Minari has a lot to say about the immigrant experience, specifically in America as a family comes over from Korea and tries to start a business and make something of themselves. You get to see a lot of what you might not think twice about when you think about immigration: the hardship of coming from a place where you know everyone to somewhere rural and sparsely populated, having to make friends with locals and integrate within the community; the strain it can put on a family and on a marriage where this idea is presented about the importance of making it on your own in order to live and not just survive, while also taking into account why you’re doing it in the first place and the value you place on being part of a family that you decided to make because that was more important than money, than economy, than proving you were good enough to make it in a place that gave you very little advantage from the offset. This concept of the promised land, of the American dream is a construct. There are times when it’s not pretty, when you have no running water, or you’re in debt, or a family member is dying and it just feels like you’ve been dealt as bad a hand as you can get. But it is better to know you’re not facing all that alone.

Roma (2018) - 10/10

This was my recommendation for the podcast episode on Alfonso Cuarón movies. Roma is as beautiful as it is heart-wrenching and I would recommend listening to episode 40 of the podcast to find out more about my thoughts.

An American Werewolf In London (1981) - 8/10

In all fairness, London is enough to make anyone a little crazy at the best of times. An American Werewolf in London showcases some fantastically grotesque effects, akin to something like Carpenter’s The Thing, in showing the dead brought back to life and a horrifically gory transformation scene. Although the film is from the perspective of an American protagonist, directed also by an American, the depiction of British culture and climate is something I’ve not seen many films pull off quite so well, and I was pleasantly surprised at the more comedic tone the film has overall, which is something that works more in its favour than straight horror would.

The Party’s Just Beginning (2018) - 6/10

Karen Gillan’s directorial debut is… pretty good! There are a lot of ideas I like in this movie: a woman living life and through convenient circumstances, is confronted with death in many ways. Gillan obviously knows her homeland as well as she can, imbuing the whole thing with an intensely Scottish vibe (though maybe not in the same vein as something like Trainspotting) that makes it a bit more unique than a more run of the mill movie of this ilk, backed up in no small part by her own main performance. The plot itself is no great diversion from the kind of story I’m used to with these smaller movies and for something that’s trying to include messaging about transgender issues and suicide, it probably could have been handled better or done in a different way.

Solaris (1972) - 9/10

Another Tarkovsky joint, one I thought I’d revisit to see if there was indeed more to get out of it a second time. Well, it’s no surprise that yes, there was certainly more to get out of it. Solaris is a crazy trip of a movie and I would liken it to Kubrick’s 2001 in terms of how grand the scale of it feels. Yet this is a film that comes across as deeply personal, choosing to focus on a specific character as he goes to a space station to help those on board who are experiencing some kind of emotional crises, only to feel the effects of the planet, Solaris invading his own mind as it has the crew. To many, I can see this lengthy Russian sci-fi being a tad slow but my personal experience is one of deep engagement. Solaris pulls its viewer in a lot of different directions and it is always doing something unexpected in terms of where its narrative goes. There’s a lot to think about with the movie and thankfully it’s no chore to watch again.

Y Tu Mamá También (2001) - 9/10

Another recommendation for the podcast episode on Alfonso Cuarón movies. This is a very relaxed experience, following three young people as they go on a road trip, visit different places and have sex. Listen to episode 40 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast for more of my thoughts.

Children of Men (2006) - 10/10

My favourite Cuarón movie, one that never stops being tense as its characters are constantly moving towards the end goal. Set in a future where humans are infertile, the oldest living person is 18, and London is the last city in the world that’s still keeping it together, somewhat. This is masterclass filmmaking. Listen to episode 40 of the podcast for more insights.

Minority Report (2002) - 5/10

I’m really not the biggest fan of Spielberg… Minority Report is an interesting movie in terms of its concept of stopping crimes before they happen by way of prediction, but I just didn’t connect with the heart of it. The colouring is way too overexposed in a way that’s supposed to be eliciting a futuristic vibe but instead feels so early-2000’s in the worst way. My biggest problem with Minority Report is just how long it is, clocking in at two hours and twenty-five minutes which allows for a lot of meandering, all while never quite developing characters enough for you to care about.

Caché (2005) - 9/10

Oh god! Another Michael Haneke movie! Here we see a couple periodically sent video tapes featuring hours of footage of the outside of their house. The anxiety ratchets up and the mystery gets deeper with every minute. There’s always at least one moment in any of his films that have so far made me realise just how out of my depth I am. Caché is no exception, and I won’t spoil anything here because I think it’s better just to watch the movie and see for yourself. He is a director that wants the audience to know something and that something is never what is explicitly shown at face value; it is pressed into the fabric of the film - plainly evident, yet hidden. Caché is so stupidly clever in displaying its themes and messaging - making reference to the Siene Massacre of 1961 as well as a deeper study of colonialism - and there’s no way to change a single detail of it without risking the Jenga tower crumbling to the ground. It all works in tandem. It is passion and fury and haunting.

Coco (2017) - 7/10

Pixar had a string of around seven forgettable movies before this point so thankfully Coco emerged to show the company still had something good in them. Coco deals a lot with themes of death and legacy, remembering those who are gone in order to preserve them and while its plotting is quite basic and there are certainly moments that either drag or cannot escape the same Pixar formula, most of what the movie has to offer is a lot of fun, with creative, colourful animation and emotional beats that resonate the way they’re supposed to.

Incredibles 2 (2018) - 5/10

Oh, they almost had it! There's a lot here that could have been explored in far more interesting ways. Setting Incredibles 2 directly after the events of the first movie was not a good idea. If it had taken place five or ten years after, the characters could have been in different places in life and it would feel as though they'd actually changed and developed. But instead of trying to be a film that actually cares about its characters and the journeys they go on, a lot of the film is wrestling with the idea that Bob isn't supportive of his wife and Jack-Jack has to fight a raccoon… They have to shoehorn in a villain that in no way compares to the genius of the original. The ending of the original introduces another antagonist that gets wrapped up within this film's first ten minutes, except they don't catch him and he's never mentioned again. It's a real shame because the animation is fantastic and the acting is superb and there are great ideas sprinkled throughout. It just doesn't come together.

Toy Story 4 (2019) - 6/10

I was rather reluctant to watch Toy Story 4 because from the get-go I’m not really here for sequels being made just for the sake of it. Everyone loves Toy Story and making another one is a sure fire way to make money. This is the first time I’ve seen Toy Story 4 and for what it’s worth, I did enjoy it. The animation is immaculate and that alone feels like a huge flex from Pixar who tend to step up the game when it comes to animation in film, despite not having the best track record for films generally at this point. While it was nice to see these characters again, I found a lot of them to be side-lined (namely Buzz) in favour of a story that focuses mainly or entirely on Woody, who I just don’t like as much as in the previous movies. Generally the movie is good and decent enough but there’s no real antagonist and the plot is quite loose… it doesn’t feel as though it needed to be made from a story point of view.

Onward (2020) - 6/10

And with that I have seen every Pixar movie. And Onward is a fine one to go out on. While I don’t think it compares to the likes of earlier Pixar it’s still pretty fun. Or maybe I’m just a sucker for a medieval setting filled with bright colours and magic! Speaking of which, the animation was super and the medieval quest element is something that hooked me with the film. Again, plot-wise it does feel very familiar and I don’t know, maybe I’m past the point now of expecting Pixar to mix it up where their formula for story-telling is concerned but the movie is quite predictable. Nonetheless, while I’m not rushing back to see Onward I would hardly turn it off or refuse if someone wanted to watch it.

Old (2021) - 3/10

Oh boy! New M. Night movie dropped and my word, was it fun! For more of my thoughts on this… masterpiece (?) of a movie, please direct your attention to episode 41 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.

T2 Trainspotting (2017) - 5/10

Trainspotting is perhaps one of my favourite movies and I had never bothered with the sequel, 20 years on, because the ending of that first movie is so conclusive. T2 felt more an excuse for these guys to get together again and in that, I probably would have preferred a couple of pictures on Twitter of the main cast and director, Danny Boyle having dinner or something. This is a fine movie - very arty in its presentation but meandering and dull in its story that doesn’t offer much in the way of proof that it had to exist.

Taste of Cherry (1997) - 9/10

What makes life worth living? This is a central question and theme of Taste of Cherry, and one that leaves such interpretation not only up to its central character but to the viewer as well. This film got me thinking about times in my life when I truly have had no answer to hard questions. Because it’s hard to convince people of things they are so adamantly against and harder still to rationalise what you believe if you’re not even entirely sure why you believe it in the first place. We are all of us alive and in recognising that, does that make it precious? And if indeed living is not a happy thing, why then should we fight so hard to preserve it? I felt upset as I watched this movie because I’ve been asked these kinds of questions before and it makes me feel stupid when I’m unable to answer. But the only real answer I can give is, everything. And if you can’t see the point then you’re not looking hard enough. Taste of Cherry is beautiful in its exploration of these topics and in its overall presentation, offering some of the best visuals in any movie I’ve seen - fitting for a feature with so much to say about the beauty of life - and an ending that as much pulls the rug out from under you as it does pull you out of the dark and make you realise just how lonely you’ve felt.

Bones (2001) - 2/10

Snoop Dogg is Jimmy Bones! This film is super funny but I’m not sure it’s trying to be and I really didn’t love it overall. But I do talk more in depth about it in episode 41 of the podcast.

The Duchess (2008) - 5/10

Another recommendation for the podcast. The Duchess was pretty much exactly what I thought it was going to be and there’s a lot to like about it but generally it’s a bit sparse. For more chat on the movie, listen to episode 41 of the podcast.

The Man With One Red Shoe (1985) - 1/10

This was another one for the podcast and man, was it awful. We had to watch it at 1.5x speed towards the end because it just wasn’t getting finished otherwise. To find out more, make sure to listen to episode 41 of the podcast.

The Emperor’s New Groove (2000) - 7/10

Pull the lever, Kronk! Haha! Slays me. I do quite miss this era of Disney, where the animation was hand-drawn and the stories were actually compelling and funny. The Emperor’s New Groove is vibrant, it’s got great characters and memorable moments that will forever be ingrained in the memory of culture. All in all, it’s just a solid flick that doesn’t waste time, developing the standard fall from glory type of arc but smoothly and in an entertaining way.

The Suicide Squad (2021) - 8/10

Oh, bloody hell! They actually made a good one! The Suicide Squad is not only better than the ‘Suicide Squad’ of 2016 in every way, it’s a genuinely great film! This time, James Gunn (director of Marvel’s Guardians of the Galaxy movies) is at the helm and it seems clear that Warner Bros. basically let him do what he wanted with the movie, as it doesn’t seem to bog itself down with the restrictions of a more family-friendly rating. The result of this is a far cleaner, colourful film with a clearer vision that takes from early Vietnam movies and uses that style to craft a superhero/villain movie that differentiates itself among the copious amount of existing films of the genre.      The Suicide Squad wastes very little time, introducing fun, crazy characters we’ve not seen on the big screen before and isn’t worried about killing a whole bunch of them, with standouts being Elba’s Bloodsport, Melchior’s Ratcatcher 2, Stallone’s King Shark (expertly rendered with fantastic visual effects), and Robbie’s returning interpretation of Harley Quinn.      A lot of Gunn’s trademark sense of humour is laced throughout and more often than not, it hits. The audience at the cinema were truly loving this movie and I’ll admit, I was right there with them. This mix of the gritty, gory and absurd is not something that should work as well as it does but the basic premise of the film is already so silly (and boy, do they know it) that it just works! Certainly one of the best DC movies since The Dark Knight and one I’d be more than happy to watch again. This is what the modern comic book movie should be: just balls to the wall fun!

[leahseclipse]

Daily surprises

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Summary: Everyday, Spencer finds a new book in his bag, as he begins to look forward to it when the event has been occurring for a while.

Requested by @writing-in-april​

A/N: I really liked writing this request!!! it really was cute asF!! Thanks for proposing that April, the fic u wrote for me last time was amazing (as ALWAYS), so I hope that you’ll like this one.

And uhh sorry about the books parts, I don’t know any of the books- I literally googled the summaries-

Word count: 3.8k

Books have always been a passion of mine; I have always been fascinated by how words can make the reader feel, how each reader can have a different opinion about them, different feelings, every reader is different when it comes to the fact of the opinion they have about the work.

They had always been a sort of shelter to me. I usually had the habit (and still have it) to comfort myself in them, they’d be able to express feelings like no one could, allow me to learn about various things, subject, build an opinion on a subject I had never thought of having an opinion, debate or even mention before.

I had been collecting more and more of them through the years, to the point of having an apartment that could be mistaken as a sort of tiny library. 

My books are literally everywhere, in my shelves, on my couch, on the low table, under and on chairs, even at my desk, and in my bag.

I always carry around one or two in my bag (of course, if they both don’t contain a lot of pages to the point of weighing a ton when combined together), in case I happen to have free time (which happened to become rare when I had begun working at the FBI), and have nothing else to do but read. 

It also happened to be a passion I've been sharing with another person, more known as y/n.

She had first mentioned that she didn't happen to read a lot, but eventually appreciated reading, which I was more than happy to hear, considering all the books I knew and how much it meant to me.

Clearly, she didn't expect me to know a whole library in my brain when she happened to ask if I could recommend a few; but she always liked to hear me rambling about them. 

She had eventually begun taking a liking to reading again; often asking me about books I've read, talking about her opinion on the book she had read, which would often be followed by an endless rambling from me, being much longer than what she had previously explained, or even expected when I had begun sharing my opinion as well.

It was nice to have someone else to talk about books with, without feeling I could possibly be disturbing them. 

Most of my colleagues would either stay there until I'd be done, they knew how much I appreciated talking about these to them; even if the majority of the team wasn't much interested, they were just being polite and respectful by staying.

Now that I talk about it, I probably should have apologized for all of the times I had rambled for a large amount of time when talking about the four books I've read in a day.

They're pretty much the main subjects I talk the most about, if, of course, I exclude Star Trek, Doctor Who, and the many subjects I throw facts about all day long from the long list that includes all of the things I'm interested in;

...which would take quite a while to detail its entirety, since I probably would take the time to explain each of them as detailed as possible, without letting any word behind, as my brain would constantly send me as much information as it contains...which again, means, a lot.

But, even if my passion about them is often difficult to keep for myself without having the need to ramble an essay worth long about them, I try not to begin to talk about it, or mention it, except if someone else does. 

That became rare…as I often end up talking more than intended each time.

Reading can sometimes lead me to fall asleep quite later than I planned before even taking the book itself. 

Having the ability to read fast has often led to many nights with little sleep, considering how many books I can read in a short amount of time.

The aftermath of it isn't pleasant, as it results in more fatigue on top of the one I already have because of how late I'd stay up when working at the bureau.

The feeling I had this morning when I had woken up happened to be one of the side effects of a long and endless reading session I had done the previous night.

Little did I find out after thinking about it for a bit that I'd probably be regretting it at the end of the day, if not earlier.

Even if my body was telling me to stay in my bed considering how tired I was, work couldn't allow me to do it, unfortunately.

It only took a quarter of an hour in order for me to get ready, as I already had been crossing the door to leave my apartment without having the time to think about doing it.

The rest of the morning wasn't as busy as it usually would be; only paperwork for the previous days, nothing too complicated. 

But because of the short night I had, the coffee trips have been quite numerous after a while. 

A short conversation had occurred later in the day between y/n and me when she had gone to peek over my desk, curious to why I had been going in and out of consciousness; and leaving a lot to take refills. 

I didn't mind her asking at all, on the contrary, I had been waiting for an opportunity to talk with her; but as I didn't want to disturb her, I just kept glancing discreetly at her from time to time, hoping something to talk about would awaken a future conversation.

After a while, I noticed that she had left the room, just as I had the thought of something situated in my bag.

I had soon taken it in search of what I've been looking for, as I suddenly happened to be quite surprised as I found a book that I didn't remember putting the night before, any other day, or even this morning before leaving my apartment for work at all.

‘The Collector, John Fowles’

It was a surprisingly good choice, and the person who had put it there either had good taste or personally knew my preferences; or even both. 

Who knows. 

Even I would be explaining it to myself, and not to anyone; I’d prefer not to engage myself in that; as it could last up to an hour considering the length, and all that is to explain in order to understand the moral, and the motives of whatever is in the character’s mind in the book; so...a lot. 

“Withdrawn, uneducated and unloved, Frederick collects butterflies and takes photographs. He is obsessed with a beautiful stranger, the art student Miranda. When he wins the pools, he buys a remote Sussex house and calmly abducts Miranda, believing she will grow to love him in time. Alone and desperate, Miranda must struggle to overcome her own prejudices and contempt if she is to understand her captor, and so gain her freedom.” 

The resume of the book had simply begun automatically playing itself before I could even lay my eyes on the back cover; as I had read this book more times than my two hands could ever count, and you know; because of the eidetic memory thing, even if I had read it only once, I would have remembered it anyway.

I remember reading it for the umpteenth time around last week, precisely on a saturday, at 11PM. As long as I can remember, I apparently had nothing else to do but read, and absolutely not any other book to pull out of the shelf, except that one.

Even if I had strictly- no idea -of who could have truly placed it there, except y/n-, I still had appreciated having this work as a possible distraction, or a way to pass the time if I eventually happened to have no idea of what I could do next, in case I didn’t have any work left to do. 

As I raised my eyes to the desk in front of me, I happened to meet with y/n’s eyes just when she had  happened to stare at me as well. 

“What’s that book genius?”

“Oh, that? It’s the collector, from John Fowles. I like this one, but- is that you who put it there?”

“Yeah...why?”

“I uh- no particular reason! I just uh...wonder why it’s there…?”

“Well, read it, and you’ll see.” She said, as she stood to go god knows where.

“Read it? But I’ve already read-” I hurried out, but she had already gone out of the room, shooting me a smile before disappearing in the corner of the door. I stood there for a good minute, as I decided to open the book and read a bit of it as she previously told me to before leaving without even giving me an answer. She always liked to be mysterious, that’s kinda the reason I fell in love with her for. 

It really took a while so I would get a number.

She had slid it in one of my file just when she had left the building to go home, I swore I didn’t even have any breath when I had attempted at catching her before she has gone to her car, and if I hadn’t decided to go, one minute later, she would have been on the road, and I doubt that calling people on the road would have been safe and clever for me to do it.

It might have been a bit “mean” to do that as some would say, but we always had the habit of doing that, way before we started dating. We’d always let the other try to guess what the other meant, what he wanted to say, it all was a game, a sequel to the story that would occur later, all of these discussions, secrets, have been a preparation, and kept for what happened right now. 

It all was thanks to her, because if she wouldn’t have given it, I doubt that I would have gathered the courage too soon. Probably in 10 years or so, if not.

As I still was in my lecture, a bright blue paper with an inscription written in black ink had brought my attention, which led me to read it. 

“I know you’re surprised, yes, it’s in a book, and yes I could have told it to you in person, but I find it better in a note, you can keep it and carry wherever you want. It's also better as a note, and, in a book, because you had always liked books, which became the passion that has made us grow closer. This book was the first one that started a conversation between us, I don’t remember the day, but you probably do. This note might be confusing, but I wanted to do that, because at least, you have a reason to finish the book, because you might have another surprise soon. -yours truly, y/n”

The note had even ended with a heart; she’d always write one at the end of her texts, even a small word sometimes, it probably was an habit of hers, I don’t really know, we never mentioned it once, as I didn’t mind at all, I really liked the attention. 

Well, I pretty much like everything she does, whether she’s talking to me, talking to someone else, or doing whatever thing. I always like to see her around; I tend to get more relaxed when she’s with me; she always talks with me, and tries to know about what I do, even if I often noticed she probably didn’t understand a single word of whatever I rambled about. 

Among all of the subject she was at ease with, books happened to be one of them, she’d always participate actively, as most of the subjects included in the books would often inspirate her, push her to talk more than she usually would with other subject, or even in general, I’d help her find her words, participate in the conversation by argumenting, agreeing with her opinion, sharing my opinion so that we could compare them and argument once more about the differences, I’d also initiate the conversation by switching to another book when we’d have nothing else to talk about the book, or if one of the details in the book would make me think of another one.

Our discussions would often last hours, we wouldn’t even realize the amount of hours we’ve spent talking until one of us would think to look at the time.

Even if I liked every single moment we’d spend together, if I had to choose one (a temporary, as I always change my mind on which moment I prefer as I again like every single one), It’d be our numerous discussions about books, I had and would never grow tired of it.

As much as I like to hear her talking, I often let myself get distracted by her, to the point of having to be “woken up” from my thoughts by her when I happened to not pay attention. 

Because in these moments, all that matters is that I get to hear her voice, her smile as she passionately talks about what she likes, she way she always talks while moving her hands around, when she looks at me while I talk, when she touches my hand with the tip of her fingers to take the book situated in my hands.

She made me get more and more excited about the moments when I’d reach for a book in my bag, or somewhere in the drawer of my desk.

Especially when she had begun picking my interest by telling me she might propose another book the next day...or so? 

I don’t think I’ve been more excited about reading a book again before now.

Who would have thought someone would have such an effect on me on a subject I admire before y/n arrived in my life? I’ve never been so passionate about something other than books before her. 

*

My waiting (that had seemed like an eternity) had only lasted till the next day, not long after my arrival at the bureau. 

I hadn’t expected it, but the book had happened to be situated close to my keyboard, which after thinking, was obvious, if I’d take account of the numerous trips we both had done throughout the morning due to various reasons concerning either paperwork or matters of previous cases.

I had taken a seat on the desk, quite empty for a while due to, again, the trips, as I had glanced at the surroundings, only to see a few members of the team, busy doing whatever task that was in front of them. 

‘Great Expectations, Charles Dickens’

Again; fairly surprising, but quite a good surprise to discover, as I hadn’t seen it for a while before today.

The edition of the book present on my desk was one of the original versions of it, The cover had a black color, along with the title and the author written in large letters under the title of the book, both just on top of an illustration representing a woman holding a bouquet of various types of flowers, behind it, the outfit she wore was visible; a white embroidery, with a grey-ish and black necklace on top of it, which was situated around her neck. The illustration was displayed in the shape of a large square, almost taking the rest of the bottom of the cover, as a space was present after the closure of the white border around the illustration. 

My eyes wandered around the cover, as I switched sides, ending up on the back of it.

“Considered by many to be Dickens’s finest novel, Great Expectations traces the growth of the book’s narrator, the orphan Philip Pirrip (Pip), from a boy of shallow dreams to a man with depth of character. From its famous dramatic opening on the bleak Kentish marshes, the story abounds, with some of Dickens’s most memorable characters; Among them are-” 

I wasn’t able to finish the rest of the summary, as a familiar scent had caught my attention, two arms embraced my shoulders. 

“You didn’t say hi today. I’m gonna begin to think you don’t love me anymore.” She had said, in an obvious playful tone that had taken some time for me to understand as it was, only a joke.

“Sorry, I’m married to someone, my work.” I had said, before the feel of her lips on my left cheek interrupted me; as, before she could go, I turned my face, stealing a kiss from her.

“Is that your apology?” She asked. 

“If you see it that way, yeah.”

“Then I accept your apologies;”

“I’m glad, I couldn’t bear to see you in such a state that would make you sad, all because of me.” I talked in a dramatic tone, which seemed as if I was doing a play, but she had laughed at it, so, turns out that my ‘play’ had been worth it after all. 

“Have you opened it yet?”

“No, I only read the summary. Why, is there something there again?”

“See by yourself.” She said, gesturing her hand in the direction of the book, as I opened it per request. 

When my eyes fell on the first page, I had expected to see the page on which the title and the author are written in black, but instead of it, a picture that had apparently been printed in a matte paper was taped on the page.

The picture had contained a picture of me, reading a book while I was sitting on the floor, against the wall, of what seemed to be my apartment, the book I was holding seemed to be the same ones I was holding in my hands.

“When did you take that? I never saw you taking your phone when we were together.”

“That’s because you never pay attention to your surroundings when you read. A fire could happen in the apartment and you wouldn’t even notice it until you’d smell the smoke.”

“No, you’re lying, I do pay attention…sometimes.” 

“See? You admitted it yourself. The tone of your voice when you reached the end of the sentence even said it for you.”

“Yeah but, did I...do something wrong or…?”

“No, nothing wrong. On the contrary, your focus was so strong that I was able to take the picture. So, that’s a good thing, do that more.”

“Now that you told me that, I’m gonna pay more attention, you might attempt to kill me behind my back.”

“Yeah, I might kill you if you keep saying that. I’ll kill you with a bad book, I’d be a shame to kill you with a good book, I might damage it.”

“You care more about a book instead of possibly committing a murder on the one and only love of your life?”

“My one and only love is tea, you know it.” She said, as I faked being offended. “Come on, I’m kidding. But, if you keep insinuating that, I’ll care more about the book. So, if you don’t want me to kill my one and only love, behave on your best.”  

“Okay, behave on my best.” I said, tracing the outline of the picture with my index. “Even if the thought of seeing myself in that picture is kinda weird, I’ll keep it. Thanks for it, I’ll read it, well, if...I get to finish the work on my desk.” I said, as we both glanced at the paperwork on the desk.

“Yeah...I, uh. Yeah. I don’t want to...sadden you even more, but you should check your mails, there...might be more.” She said, as she tapped my shoulder before leaving, the smile on my face dropping as I came to the realization. 

“I guess the reading session is getting postponed then.” 

*

The week had really been full of a lot of surprises (if I don’t count the case we had, of course), she had pulled out books I haven’t read for years; books that I had wanted to read, but never got the time for; or even books I’ve never read, but she had surprisingly matched my taste well, as I ended up liking them more than I thought I would before even starting the book. 

To my surprise, we had gotten to have rest for once after the busy week that cancelled all of our plans in a snap. 

I haven’t even realized that it already was October 31st today, the work had completely gone over everything else that made up my thoughts, to the point that I haven’t thought of the book y/n had chosen today.

She’d always put it either on the top of my desk where I could see it, or in my bag, but after a minute or so of searching, I didn’t see it.

The only book that I could see was in my bag, a copy of ‘The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle’,  I had always left it there, it was one of my favorite books, I had never gotten anywhere without it.

‘Maybe she forgot about it today. It happens.’

We had a small party like we usually do (when a case doesn’t interrupt us, of course), and various small events had been organized.

As I had been looking around, my attention had been snatched away by a hand slightly tapping my right shoulder, as I turned around to see y/n.

“Missed me?” 

“Yeah, I did.” I said, as I brought her closer, and brought my lips to hers, as we exchanged a brief kiss. “Where have you been?”

“I was with Penelope, just for a bit, because if you didn’t see it, she wasn’t around either.”

“Wasn’t she? Oh, apparently not.” I said, as I saw her coming in, walking in the direction of Emily who had called her.

“What were you thinking about?”

“You, and books.”

“Oh, talking about books, did you notice something?”

“Something? Uh, no. I haven’t seen one, except the book I always carry.”

“And what is it?”

“The Narrative of John Smith, why?”

“Well, you just noticed something. The book you just saw is the one you were looking for.”

“But, I had it yesterday, and all of the days before. I-I don’t get it.”

"In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s October 31st today; the date the book was published by the edition you own, it even was the first book I laid my eyes on when we met.” She pointed out.

“...you just reduced my IQ to 60 in a minute.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yeah, I knew it was our anniversary, but never had I thought that this book was involved.”

“Now you did, and you better remember it, and never forget to carry it.”

“I would never.” I said, as I gently put my hand on her cheek, as she suddenly raised herself on the tip of her toes, kissing me before I even got the time to think of it. 

“Happy anniversary Spence.”

“Happy anniversary y/n.”

*

[mermaidssonshipss]

ruin the friendship

another request! yeehaw! so i didn’t know if you wanted like an established relationship or not and i tend to not write established relationships (the pining and angst and hidden touches are always the best part once ur in a relationship it’s boring lmao) so i’m taking this and running with it but also putting my own twist on it but i really hope you enjoy it. it took me forever to write and i don’t know why i just. wanted it to... work? idk ANYWAYS! i hope you enjoy it yeehaw.

warnings: smut, obviously

pairings: rudy pankow x reader

word count: 3,082

At the age of 21, you were still a virgin, and the thought irritated you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had the chance, or that you’d never had a boyfriend, the truth was you were just scared. When you were 16, your older sister had come into your bedroom right after she lost her virginity, whining about how bad it hurt and how uncomfortable it was. She couldn’t even sit down. She’d went into detail and to be quite frank, you were traumatized. So, whenever the opportunity to have sex presented itself, you’d always back out, which lead to many of your breakups. You knew you were being silly about it, but you just never felt like the guys you were with would care enough to take your feelings into consideration and make sure you were comfortable. You’d dated nothing but assholes who only wanted you for your body, and finding out you were a virgin never turned them off, it only made you a challenge, and when they realized they weren’t going to concur you, they dropped you. 

Currently you were sat on Rudy’s couch, the both of you arguing over whether he should shave his mustache or not. You were highly against the hideous thing, arguing that it looked like he had a caterpillar above his lip, and he argued that the caterpillar was his friend. 

“Question. Have you kissed a girl since you’ve had that thing on your face? Honest answers only,” you pressed, though you knew the answer already. He opened his mouth to reply, but fell short, his back falling into the couch as he glared at you.

“Is it really that bad?”

“Yes.”

He huffed out at that, crossing his arms and turning his face back towards the TV. You got up, making your way into his bathroom and coming back out holding shaving cream and his razor.

“Shave it. Now.”

“You shave it if you want it gone so bad,” he replied, raising his eyebrows, challenging you.

“I literally will, Rudy. I’ve been shaving since I was like.. 13. I’m not afraid to use a razor,” you quipped back, and he threw his head back, letting out a groan before he pushed himself off the couch and snatched the items from you, making his way to the bathroom as he shot a glare at you over his shoulder.

You settled back down on the couch, grabbing your phone. A couple of texts from your best friend, Han, popped up, and your cheeks turned red as you read the contents.

Han: dude... did you see Jake’s tweets?

Han: he’s literally subtweeting the fuck out of you.

You quickly opened the twitter app on your phone and went to his account, your heart dropping. The past several tweets were about how he was tired of being led on by “prudes,” how his last ex (you) thought she was too good for anyone, and finally, he ended it with “never date a virgin, dudes. they’re the worst.” You were hurt, but you weren’t really surprised. He’d broken up with you two days ago after he’d tried to pressure you into having sex with him again, and you’d held your ground, saying you weren’t ready. He’d stormed out of your apartment, screaming that you were over.

A tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away as Rudy entered the room, now sporting a clean-shaven face. You tossed your phone to the side as you looked up at him, throwing a smile on your face at the sight, but it was clear to him you were upset.

“What happened?” He asked, sitting down next to you and you shook your head, giving him a shrug.

“Nothing. Jake being a dick. It’s whatever.” You’d never really discussed your sex-life with Rudy. It wasn’t that you weren’t comfortable with him, to be honest you were more comfortable with him than you’d ever been with anyone, it just never came up. He’d assumed you weren’t a virgin due to your boyfriends, and you never told him why things actually ended.

“What’d he do?” He looked angry, and you smiled at him softy; it was cute how much he cared.

“Just some stupid tweets,” you replied, not expecting him to grab his phone and go onto Jake’s profile.

“What’s his fucking problem? Why is he calling you a prude? You’re not a virgin?” His tone was questioning, realizing that you two had never really talked about the topic.

“I am a virgin,” you responded simply, scrunching your nose up slightly as you looked at him. He was silent for a moment, his mouth opening into a silent O.

“Close your mouth, Pankow. You’ll eat a fly,” you laughed and he quickly snapped his mouth shut before placing his phone next to yours.

“If you don’t mind me asking... why?” he was genuinely curious, his eyes watching you closely. At this question, your cheeks heated up. You weren’t ashamed that you were a virgin, but you were definitely embarrassed about the why. Without letting yourself overthink it, you launched into the story about your sister and how scared it had left you.

“I know it’s stupid,” you groaned, your hands covering your heated cheeks, “but seriously... the way she talked about it... like I’m fully expecting it to feel like I’m being ripped in half and I’m not okay with that! If I could find the right guy maybe I’d think about it but everyone I date is a fucking asshole that only cares about getting themselves off, and not my precious vagina. Like I don’t need to be in love with the dude I just need to know he’s gonna take his time and not hurt me!” your cheeks were absolutely flaming at this point, your fingers running through your hair as you tugged on it. Rudy was laughing next to you as you rambled, his eyes closing as tears leaked down his cheeks from how hard he was laughing. “Stop laughing!” You shouted, but you yourself were also laughing.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, trying to calm down, “Like it’s not funny I get it but the way you talked about it is hilarious,” his laughing had calmed down now, and he sent you a sincere smile, “I’ve definitely heard it hurts for a girl though, but like you said, you just need to find someone who’s gonna be careful with you. Someone you trust and are comfortable with.”

“Rudy. Men suck. You’re the only man I trust with my life,” you dead panned, and he raised an eyebrow at you. He was quiet for a moment, and you could see the wheels turning in his head before he finally spoke up.

“Let me take your virginity.” He was confident as he spoke the words and you sucked in a breath, not expecting that to come out of his mouth.

“Rudy...”

“Hear me out,” he sat up straighter now, his entire body facing you, “We’ve been friends for how long? Like 10 years now, right? I know you better than anyone else, and vice-versa. You also just said you trust me, and are comfortable with me. I’ll admit I’ve never been with a virgin before and I don’t want you to think this is me trying to check something off a checklist or whatever, but I care about you and your feelings in general, so of course I’d care about that in bed. I’ll be gentle. I’ll listen to you and what you want and make sure you’re as comfortable as you possibly can be.”

You thought about it for a moment, weighing his words around the corners of your brain, before deciding that he had a point.

“Okay. But it absolutely cannot ruin our friendship.” He nodded his head in agreement, running his fingers through his hair as it flopped into his eyes.

“Absolutely. I don’t think anything can ruin our friendship at this point, anyway,” he was smiling softly at you as he spoke, and you knew you should feel nervous under his gaze, but you were comfortable. This was Rudy, your best friend, and you trusted him with the world.

The two of you were silent for a moment, letting the reality of the situation sink in, before Rudy stood up and held his hand out for you.

“If you’re sure you want this, I’m gonna wager losing your virginity in my comfy bed is much better than on my couch,” he smirked at you, and you rolled your eyes, but slipped your hand in his anyway. He tugged you up gently and lead the both of you to his bedroom, shutting the door gently after you had fully entered.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” his voice was a whisper as he stepped closer to you, his hand resting on your cheek softly as his other hand landed on your waist, giving it a gentle squeeze. You simply nodded, not trusting your voice at the moment.

His lips were on yours moments later, all of the nerves in your body melting away as the two of you moved in-sync. For the first time in a very long time, you felt butterflies exploding in your stomach from a simple kiss, and you wound your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. Your shirt was currently being bunched up under your ribs, his hands moving it up slowly as his fingertips trailed against your warm skin. He broke the kiss for only a moment, pulling your shirt off and tossing it onto the floor before his lips were attaching to yours once again, this time the kiss much more passionate. The two of you were stumbling slightly as he pushed you over to his bed, a few soft laughs being exchanged as he almost tripped over a pair of his sneakers.

“Remind me to clean up this mess,” he mumbled against your lips, and you could feel a smile on them as he hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he crawled onto the bed and gently placed you down, your head resting on his pillow.

His eyes were drinking you in as he hovered above you, and you silently thanked yourself for putting on your favorite red lace bra that morning as his pupils widened at the sight.

“Beautiful,” he mumbled, and you weren’t sure if you were supposed to hear him, so you just smiled up at him before your fingers began fiddling with his shirt, tugging at it to signal you wanted it off. He was quick to pull it off and toss it across the room.

“Don’t forget to clean that up later,” you smirked, and he glared at you, but you could see he was holding in a smile.

“Can I?” his hand had slipped underneath you, his fingers resting on the clasp of your bra, waiting for your answer.

“Rudy, we’re about to have sex. Which I already agreed to. You’re allowed to undress me.” You could see his cheeks turn red as you spoke, but he rolled his eyes at you and quickly unclasped the bra before sliding the straps down your arms slowly, removing it fully. For a moment, you were tempted to cover yourself, but something about the way Rudy was looking down at you, his eyes scanning from your chest to your eyes, stopped you. 

Soon his lips were back on yours, both of you fighting for dominance as he tugged at your shorts, pulling them down your legs and kicking them off the bed. His hand wrapped around your thigh, pushing your legs apart as he trailed feather light touches up the soft skin, goosebumps erupting across your body. His lips were moving down your neck and to your chest now, softly sucking the skin as your fingers flew to his hair, tangling them into his blonde locks. 

Without warning, he slipped his large hand under the fabric of your panties and cupped your mound roughly, causing you to let out a sinful moan. You could feel him smirk against your chest as his thumb rubbed against your clit, drawing figure eights on the already throbbing bud. If you weren’t wet before, you definitely were now.

“Just gotta get you ready.” he whispered against your skin, his lips wrapping around your nipple as he let his teeth graze the sensitive peak, causing you to gasp and tug at his hair, which awarded you a groan from Rudy. You would gladly let him get you ready at any moment if it felt like this.

His finger teased your entrance, gathering up the wetness that pooled around the hole before slipping in easily, reaching places your own had never reached before. He was quick to slip a second finger in when he realized how wet you were, and he bit down on your nipple a bit too hard as he heard you moan out his name. It sounded sinful, and he wanted to hear you chant it for hours. As you writhed underneath him with each pump of his fingers, he was tempted to make you cum like this, intrigued to see you coming undone just from his fingers, but he didn’t want to overwhelm you, not this time, at least. When he could feel you clenching around his fingers, your whimpers growing louder, he pulled away, causing you to gasp out in displeasure.

“M’not done, princess,” he assured you, rolling next to you on the bed as he quickly pulled his pants and boxers down in one go. He was painfully hard, his cock slapping up against his abdomen the second it was free, and he let out a hiss as the cold air hit it. Quickly he threw his bedside table drawer open, feeling around it for a moment before his fingers finally latched onto a condom and he let out a sigh of relief. It’d been a while since he’d sex, to be honest, and he wasn’t sure if he had any condoms around. 

“Hurry up,” you breathed impatiently, your hand slipping down as you began to rub your own clit, and Rudy thought he was going to explode at the sight.

“Jesus christ,” Escaped from his clenched teeth, and he was quick to move himself back on top of you, ripping the condom package open with his teeth before rolling it down his length, a painful moan escaping at the friction. He slapped your hand away, positioning the head of his cock against your entrance for a moment before dragging it between your folds, collecting your wetness on the condom.

“Please,” you whimpered quietly, causing Rudy to bite his lip. He had pictured you underneath him many times, but he had never pictured you begging him to take your virginity. 

Slowly, he pushed inside of you, watching as your head pushed back into the pillow, your mouth falling open silently. It stung, but he was so gentle and so slow, giving you time to adjust as he very slowly pushed his entirety into you, finally bottoming out, you barely felt the discomfort. 

Your hands wrapped around his back, your fingernails digging into his tan skin, and you whispered quietly into his ear, giving him permission to move. His body was resting down on yours gently, his own arms between your body and the bed, clutching onto you as he began to move his hips, dragging his cock against your tight walls as slow as he could force himself to go. His continuous moans mixed with yours, both of your names rolling off one another's tongues in ecstasy. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his ass slightly as you pushed him deeper into you, your body consumed with pleasure. His lips found yours again, but this kiss felt different. His lips were rough against yours, but there was a passion behind it that he had been holding back, feelings that had been hidden for years pouring between the two of you as he finally decided to give in to them. 

He could tell you were close, your walls clenching around his cock, causing his hips to stutter at the feeling. His hand slipped between the two of you, finding the button that would let you release around him, and he began to circle his fingers around it quickly, the pressure of his fingers varying.

“Let go, pretty girl,” he whispered into your ear as he finally pulled his lips away from yours, soon resting them on your shoulder, his teeth sinking into the skin as you exploded around him, yelling his name out as your fingernails dug even deeper into his skin, leaving scratches behind. You’d gotten yourself off many times before, but it had never felt like this. You’d never felt this full, his cock deliciously scraping against your walls. He continued to pound into you, relishing in your whimpers before he too was coming undone into the condom, riding out his high until there was nothing left. 

His body collapsed onto the bed next to you, sweaty and sticking to the sheets as he pulled the condom off and tied it up, tossing it into the bin next to his bed. You were absolutely blissed out, a soft smile on your lips, and Rudy pushed himself onto his side, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him, his fingertips trailing up and down your side.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” his words were genuine as he looked down at you, his eyes full of adoration and what you think looked like love.

“I’m... wonderful,” you decided on, your own hand reaching up and tracing along his jawline, “It stung a bit in the beginning but after that it was... jesus I can’t believe I haven’t done that before,” you laughed, and Rudy laughed with you quietly, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on your lips for a moment before pulling away and resting his forehead on yours, his eyes staring into yours, “think it only felt that way because it was with you though,” you admitted, your voice small as you spoke, and Rudy once again pecked your lips. He had decided kissing you was one of his favorite activities. 

“I think... we just ruined the friendship,” he admitted, but he was smiling against your lips, and you knew what he meant.

“I think I agree.”

[asupernaturalgirl]

Engaged to Be Wed - Part 2

Daryl x Reader

Summary: The reader is now engaged to Daryl Dixon and couldn’t be more excited. It’s always been her dream to get married and she’s always had the perfect idea about what she wanted with her wedding, however, the apocalypse raging around her makes things a little more difficult. 

A/N: I know some of you all are going to be excited about this one. I’m continuing the series and I hope you all like it! Each part with feature one part of the wedding process. Enjoy!

Warnings: none! Just a good amount of fluff

                                                           ...

Who knew it would be so difficult to plan a wedding during the zombie apocalypse?

You definitely didn’t. 

There were some no-brainers. Father Gabriel would marry the two of you. He immediately agreed as soon as the words came out of your mouth. Maggie agreed to be your maid of honor almost before you could even mention the words to her. As soon as she had heard you and Daryl had been engaged, she was knocking down your door offering herself to you. 

The harder parts were the ones where you had to selectively choose what was and wasn’t important. Some traditions were impossible due to the fact that the majority of the world was currently dead and society had collapsed, but others were just impractical. There wouldn’t be music or dancing, no large cake, no honeymoon, no registry. 

The hardest part was choosing whether or not to get a dress. You would wear something no matter what, even if it was just a simple dress, but the child in you wanted something bigger, something that made you actually feel like a bride. The danger of going out to find that dress was what was keeping you away. Was a wedding dress worth putting lives at risk? No. At least not in your mind. 

There was also other work to do as usual. Alexandria relied on everyone making an equal effort into continuing work for the better of the group. You couldn’t just drop all of your work in order to plan a wedding that didn’t mean anything to anyone except you and Daryl. 

You sat at the breakfast table, writing in your notebook. Daryl walked in, pouring himself a glass of water before shoveling some powdered eggs into a plate of his own. 

“What are ya doing today?” He asked, taking a sip of the water. 

You placed down your pen and began to eat your eggs now that Daryl had sat down with you. This was one way you were able to stay so close to him while you were so busy. The two of you had designated specific times throughout the day that were for you to connect unless there was some sort of emergency. “I don’t know yet. Someone told me yesterday they needed some help in the pantry. You had a pretty big run yesterday, didn’t you?” 

He nodded quickly. “Brought a small car and could barely fit everything in there.”

You raised your brows. It was rare they would find a place with that much food left these days, but you thanked god for the times when they actually did. Watching Daryl leave those gates always left you feeling so helpless and anxious, knowing fully well what could go wrong out there. The fact that they had been so successful made you feel a bit better. 

“Are you going on another one today?” 

He shook his head. “No, Glenn and Maggie wanted to go. I think they just want to get away from everyone for a little bit. Don’t blame them.”

While runs were dangerous, the feeling of freedom sometimes outweighed the risk. It gave you a chance to actually do some of the things you wanted to do, rather than what everyone else needed you to do. 

“Did you ask Rick about….” Daryl started. 

“Not yet. I’m going to do it right after breakfast,” You stood up, bringing your plate with you to clean. “Wish me luck.” 

“Good luck,” He chuckled slightly and gave you a kiss before leaving the room himself to get ready for the work he would do today. 

…

Rick was always happy to see you. Judith sat on your lap as Daryl poured you a cup of herbal tea that had been freshly dried. He purposefully made it weak to save the leaves, but it was always better than just plain water.

You played peekaboo with the toddler in your arms as you waited for Rick to sit down next to you. She giggled loudly every time you would scare her. Her laughs filling the room ended up making you laugh as well. Her father smiled as he walked in the room, loving the fact that his daughter had so much support in the group. 

“What did you want to talk to me about, Y/N?” He questioned, finally taking a seat beside you. 

You nervously set Judith down, motioning for her to go off and play with her toys. You clasped your hands in front of you, trying to build up the courage to finally ask him the question that had been on your mind since Daryl had asked you to marry him. “Will you walk me down the aisle?”

Rick’s eyes softened immediately, a joyful expression crossing his face. He smiled widely. You were surprised to see the small tears beginning to pool in his eyes. “Of course I will, Y/N. I would want nothing more than to walk you down that aisle. I see you as one of my daughters anyway.” 

Your heart warmed at his confession. Rick meant everything to you. He gave you advice, he offered you comfort, he protected you when needed. He was the definition of a father figure and you wouldn’t give him up for the world. “It probably won’t be the typical sense of an aisle...and I’m not actually sure how large-”

He immediately cut you off from your rambling, shaking his hand to stop you. “I’m honored to do it. No matter what. I don’t care if there’s no aisle or if it’s just you, Daryl, and Father Gabriel. I will hand you off to Daryl.” 

You brought your hands to your heart first and then pulled him in for a tight hug. He patted your back. “I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You’ve grown so much through the years. You deserve to be happy with Daryl.” 

“Thank you.”

…

You tiredly walked back from the pantry. Daryl really did get a bunch on the run yesterday. There were buckets filled to the brim with canned good and everything had to be stacked on the right shelf, in the right order. It took you over 10 hours to actually get everything done. 

You passed Daryl on the way back home. He was assisting some of the other Alexandrians in repairing a few solar panels. He was nifty, although this wasn’t his expertise. It took him longer than expected, but he told you he’d be home as soon as he could. 

As the house the two of you shared came into view, you were surprised to see Glenn and Maggie sitting on the porch swing, a large box at their feet. When they saw you coming, they jumped up, greeting you happily. 

“We wanted to go on a run today to try to find you a dress,” Maggie explained, pointing to the box. “After we got the necessary stuff, we found an old bridal shop and picked out a few things. We didn’t want you to have to wear just any old dress on your wedding day.” 

This was more than you could have ever expected. Never in your life would you think your friends would risk their lives to find you something for your wedding. You brought your hand on your mouth in shock, looking down at the box. “Thank you.” 

“Let’s go try them on,” Maggie said excitedly, pulling your arm inside. 

Glenn had left Maggie behind, deciding this was probably an activity best suited for two best friends. Maggie clapped her hands as you walked out in the first dress. It was a tea party style. If it had been a day ago, this would have been your dream dress, but since you had more options now, you were more willing to say no. 

As you placed the next one on, you gasped while looking in the mirror. Tears sprung to your eyes. This was the one. It was long, but still practical. This is the one you’d dreamed about as a kid. When you told Daryl about what you had imagined, this was exactly it. 

Maggie’s eyes lit up as soon as you exited the room. “That looks absolutely beautiful on you, Y/N.” 

You looked back at the mirror, moving around slightly so you could see it from every angle. “This is the one. I love it.” 

…

Daryl walked in the bedroom, letting out a loud sigh. He was tired, you could immediately tell. You placed the book you were reading down beside you and waited for him to join you. “How was work?”

He gave a signature Daryl grunt, obviously not wanting to talk about the difficulties of fixing solar panels. He stripped off his shirt and pants, leaving him in boxers and climbed in next to you while you scooted over to give him more room. You gently ran your fingers along his scalp, playing with his hair just slightly. He would never admit to you that he loved it, but you knew he did. Usually if he didn’t like something, he would squirm away or tell you to stop, but when you messed with his hair, he leaned closer and closed his eyes. 

Eventually he laid back and brought you close into his arms. “Glenn and Maggie brought me back some wedding dresses.”

He seemed to already know as a smile crossed his face. Of course he knew. They probably told him that was where they were planning on going during the run. “Did you find something you liked?”

“I found something I loved,” The picture of the dress in your mind made you feel giddy once again. It was rare that you got that feeling these days. “I cried when I put it on.” 

“When do I get ta see it?” 

“On the wedding day, you dummy.”

Daryl let out a knowing chuckle and ran his hand along your face, gently caressing your nose, cheeks, and lips. He leaned in closer and kissed you softly, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. “You’re gonna look so damn beautiful, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do with myself.”

You kissed him back, deepening it. His arms wrapped around your back, pulling you almost on top of him. You pushed the hair out of his eyes as you pulled back. “I can’t wait to marry you.” 

[magicforjournals]

The Green Dress (A Story About Loki) Chapter 3 : What a mess

Warning : Not really any. In the next chapters, we'll have more Loki and reader interactions.

Three days had gone by since Maria’s birthday party… since you shared a passionate moment with Loki in a dark hallway. It was all you could think about throughout your weekend, at the grocery store, grading history tests, having dinner and drinks with Nat - you just could not stop thinking about him. You also were not certain if you should tell Natasha about the kiss, knowing how she viewed him. Quite honestly, you were unsure about your feelings regarding that night, or him. All you knew was that every night since, you couldn’t help but touch yourself as you thought about his lips on yours, his tongue wrestling in your mouth, his hands gripping your waist tightly. You could still hear his voice, moaning and whispering your name. And to think that this God had shifted your entire world that night with a single look. How could that be? You had been in relationships before, had been attracted to other men before, but none of them had ever completely and utterly fucked up your universe as this man had. You needed to see Loki again, not only because you desperately craved his touch, but you undeniably had to figure out what your next move was going to be, and how he felt about you. Oh, what a mess you had gotten yourself into.

It was snowing when you walked outside that night, after a long day at work. Not that the phenomenon was uncommon for April, but you didn’t especially like the cold and desperately wished for summer to come. You were surprised to notice that it was already dusk out, how long had you been working tonight? You started to make your way towards your car, when you noticed a tall figure, leaning against the front of it. Steve.

“What are you doing here Rogers?” You sigh, as you approach him.

“Natasha said I’d find you here. Why do you work so late on Mondays?” He asks.

You knew that you did work late on Mondays, always wanting to get all your prep done for the week, early on, and that meant staying late. You didn’t know, however, that it had become a habit of yours, and certainly not something you thought your friends would’ve noticed.

“I just have a lot of work to do I guess,” You shrug, putting your bags in the trunk of the car, and walking to the driver’s door. “You didn’t answer my question though, what are you doing here Steve?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Steve says, standing in front of you.

“All ears,” you groan. You hated how he was tiptoeing around the subject.

“I changed my mind.” He announces bluntly. “I want you.” HE WHAT?!, you think, your body reacting to the shock.

“Y-you what?” You manage to stutter out.

“I want you, I want to be with you.” He repeats, holding your hands. You gasp and yank your hands away. “I know it’s a little late, but I can’t stop thinking about you. When I saw you Thursday night, it only made everything that much clearer for me. I want you to be mine, only mine.” He adds, getting closer to you, pinning you against your car.

You can’t breathe. This is all so sudden. In the past, you would’ve given anything to hear Steve utter those words to you, but now, with everything that had happened between the two of you, was it too late? Where was all this two years ago?

“Steve, why are you doing this now?” You whisper, thinking back to all the innocent flirting he had done with you before Natasha had intervened. “I thought you didn’t want any kind of commitment.”

“I know, I know.” He sighs. “I’m sorry, really. I was wrong. And when I saw you at the party, exchanging looks with Loki, the way he looked at you… it drove me absolutely mad.” He growls. “I can’t bear thinking of another man having their hands on you. I want you,” he says again before lifting your chin up and kissing you aggressively.

OH HELL NO. In what world does he think he has the right to do this? To just take what he wants? No. You put a firm hand on his chest and push him away, rage bubbling up.

“No Steve. You can’t do this.” You almost scream. “You can’t just come waltzing in my life after shooting me down and expect me to let you have me?! No. You just can’t do that. I don’t care what the excuse is, that you’re jealous because Loki and I LOOKED at each other or not. I look at a lot of people every day, you know? It’s unacceptable for you to think of me as something to own.” You’re absolutely furious now. All you want to do is get as far away from him as humanly possible before you punch him in the face, and you know you’ll break your hand if you tried. “I have to go.” You spit out as you open your car door.

“Wait,” Steve says, grabbing your hand again. “I made a mistake last time. I don’t want to let you go again.”

“You already did it once, shouldn’t be too hard.” You hiss at him, and get in your car, slamming the door in his face. Your blood is boiling as you pull out of the school’s parking lot, dialing Nat’s number.

“Hi, what’s up?” She asks, picking up almost immediately.

“He kissed me,” you say through your teeth.

“Holy shit!” Nat screams.

“Not now Nat, I’m absolutely fucking pissed. Where are you, I need a drink.” You say, hoping she’s at the compound.

“Home, I’ll get the wine out of the fridge.” She answers.

“Be there in 5,” you add before hanging up and speeding to her place.

You pull up to the gate, notifying F.R.I.D.A.Y you were here to visit Natasha. As you park your car, you take a moment to try and calm yourself down, quite unsuccessfully. You decide to get out anyways, grabbing your purse and making your way to Nat’s apartment. You don’t even waste time knocking, you just burst through the door, dropping your things in the entrance and making your way to the couch where you collapse, whining into a pillow you cover your face with. You feel Nat tap you on the foot for you to make some room on the couch, and you bring your legs up before setting them back in her lap once she sits down.

“Loki kissed me,” you announce, your voice muffled by the pillow still on your face.

In a fraction of a second, the glasses are on the coffee table, the pillow is gone and you’re being sat up on the couch.

“What?!” Natasha cries out.

“Loki kissed me at Maria’s party.” You repeat. “And well... I kissed him back.”

“Y-you… Loki… Ok, hold on” She says, trying to make sense of what you just told her. “How did this happen? You should’ve stayed away from him like I told you to. Did he force you? No, you said you kissed him back. How was it? Wait, it’s Loki!! ” She adds, all in one breath.

You’re blushing, you know it. You were never embarrassed to tell Nat these kinds of things, but for some reason, you were as embarrassed as a student that got caught cheating on a test.

“It happened by the washrooms, I was getting out, he was going in. We started talking, he asked if he could be honest with me, I said yes. He told me he couldn’t stop looking at me, that he liked how I looked in my dress. He asked if I was afraid of him, I told him I wasn’t, that I felt like he was probably cast aside as a child and was acting up now, and then he kissed me. And I kissed him back.” You’re talking so fast, giving Nat a rundown of those 10 minutes with Loki that you have yet to forget.

“Wow.” Is all that comes out of your best friend’s mouth as she leans back on the couch, absorbing all the information you literally just threw at her.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask, after a very long moment of silence.

“Oh no, I’m not mad. I’m … shocked.” Nat answers. “I didn’t expect that. You made out with a God! Oh my God, you made out with Loki!” She starts giggling.

You start laughing with her, grabbing your glass of wine and sipping on it. As you laugh together and get over the shock of the confession, she asks you for all the details of the kiss. As you’re rambling on about that night, she stops you suddenly.

“Wait, Steve kissed you tonight. What happened with that? How are you feeling?”

“He came to see me at school, I guess you told him I was there. He said, and I quote, ‘I want you. I can’t bear thinking of another man having their hands on you’. And then he kissed me. It was really rough, I pushed him away and yelled at him.” You reply, feeling the anger rise again.

“I can’t believe that! I see why you were pissed. You almost threw yourself at him two years ago and now he what… wants to claim you or something? What the hell is wrong with Rogers?” She exclaims. “I know I said I wanted you and Steve to date, but he can’t turn you down and expect you to wait around until he’s ready to date. That’s just insane!”

“Tell me about it. I don’t want to see him for a while,” you tell her.

“Understandable. I’ll try to keep you two apart the best I can. You hungry?” She asks as she grabs her phone.

You guys end up ordering dinner and talking about Loki and Steve for a while longer. She agrees that you are clearly infatuated with Loki and need to make sense of the situation. Although she might not revel in the fact it was Loki, she trusts you to be safe and smart, Natasha knows you wouldn’t do anything stupid. She also understands that sometimes, following your heart is what is best.

You get home a while later, having been dropped off by Maria who had been working late at the office. Nat promised you that your car and teaching material would be in the parking lot at school before you even got there. As you’re getting ready for your shower, your phone pings on the bathroom counter. Probably Nat just double-checking you got home safe. With half your body already in the shower, you grab your phone to check and your mouth falls open.

An email. How ridiculous was that? Did you really just send her an email? Loki can’t stop beating himself up, debating whether jumping off the Bifröst is a good option. You were the only thing on his mind lately, and he wanted to see you again. He didn’t know how to reach out to you. Thanks to Thor, he had learned which school you worked at and he had gotten your contact information. There were so many ways for him to talk to you, but he was afraid. Afraid of rejection. Never before, in his many years, had he been so taken by a mortal. He spent two days after meeting you - kissing you - trying to get you out of his head. He drank, lashed out, picked a fight in a bar too, everything he could think of to stop thinking about you. But the taste of your lips, your smell, the way you moaned under his touch, as soon as he was alone, all those memories came rushing back to him. He had to see you again.

He knew it was late, and that there was a very high probability you were already in bed, seeing as it was a school day, but he typed up an email regardless. After spending over 3 hours debating whether to email, text or call you, Loki settled on an email, thinking it would be more appropriate to reach out that way. He had been overthinking everything way too much, you drove him absolutely insane.

Good evening, I hope you are doing well, my darling. I, on the other hand, have been suffering. I must admit that I can not stop thinking about you. You are the only thing on my mind during my every waking moment, and at night, when I close my eyes, I can still feel you in my arms. I know this all may seem very forward of me, and I do apologize. Nonetheless, I need to see you again. Would you do me the honor of sharing dinner tomorrow night? Lovingly yours, Loki

[bluejayblueskies]

philautia

n. a love based on deep connection to one’s well-being and built upon a love for one’s self; a centered wholeness

Words: 2.3k

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Relationship: Sasha James & Tim Stoker & Martin Blackwood & Jonathan Sims, Past Tim Stoker/Sasha James, Minor Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood

Characters: Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims, Sasha James

Additional Tags: AU - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Humor, Statement Fic (but not in the way you expect!), Aromantic and Asexual Characters, Implied/Referenced Homophobia (very minor), Implied/Referenced Arophobia (also very minor)

Summary:

SASHA

So, according to Tim, I’m supposed to be recording a statement on, quote, my “most swashbucklingest experience as an esteemed member of the LGBT community.” He left this recorder on my desk and stole my scone. Timothy Stoker, I will not forget that.

---

Statements of members of the archival staff at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding certain facets of their aspec identities. Statements compiled by Timothy Stoker on 10th June, 2016. For personal use only.

Ao3 link in reblogs

Or read below:

[CLICK]

 MARTIN

 —really don’t think this is necessary—

 TIM

 Aaaaand we’re recording!

 MARTIN

 (exasperated) Tim.

 TIM

 Oh, come on Martin, it’s more fun this way!

 [MARTIN MAKES A NOISE OF DISAGREEMENT]

 TIM

 You cannot look me in the eye and tell me that this doesn’t appeal to your, and I quote, “retro aesthetic.”

 MARTIN

 (reluctantly) It… might.

 TIM

 See! So it’s perfect!

 …

 [HE SIGHS]

 Obviously you don’t have to if you don’t want to, Martin. I just thought it might be nice—to have something to look back on when we’re all old and sick of each other, you know? Here, I can go first.

 MARTIN

 Tim, you don’t have to—

 TIM

 (overlapping, adopting the ‘Archivist’ voice) Statement of Timothy Stoker, regarding the first time he went to Pride with his brother, Danny. June 10th, 2016.

 (cheekily) Statement begins.

 TIM (STATEMENT)

 (in his normal voice) I realized I was into blokes too when I was 15, you know. Think it took me a while because of the whole ace thing, though that took me until I was in uni to really figure out. I was still fine with sex, you know, always enjoyed it when it came up, just… never really wanted it with anyone in particular. So I suppose I’d assumed for a while that the things I was feeling toward other guys weren’t romantic because I never had the sexual parts to go along with them. (with wry humor) Almost ruined a few relationships that way, actually.

 But I’m getting a bit off-topic. Can’t be one of those rambling statement givers Jon hates. God, I can see his face now, that thing he does with his nose—Martin, you know the one, the- the way it looks like he’s just smelled something really, really rank.

 MARTIN

 I thought you said you weren’t going to ramble.

 TIM

 Cheeky, cheeky. Okay, where was I. Right.

 TIM (STATEMENT)

 Mom and Dad weren’t real big on the whole bi thing, so the first time I got the chance to go to Pride was in uni. The first time I got the chance to go with Danny was after he turned 18 and got his first modeling gig. At least, I think he was already modeling back then. Point is, we were both out of the house, and Danny had been dying to go to Pride with me ever since I sent him pictures of me and Sasha eating an entire box of rainbow-colored donuts that first year. I’d figured out I was ace by then, but it had been pretty recent, so when we got there, I found one of the vendors selling those big flags you drape over your shoulders and got an ace one. Felt a bit weird having the ace flag instead of the bi one like the other years, but I had worn that pink, blue, and purple button-down Sasha got me for Christmas once, so overall, it felt all right.

 And Danny—god, he loved it. Pretty sure he ate his weight in fried food that day.

 [HE LAUGHS]

 Almost got the aro flag he’d borrowed from Sasha dirty, actually, when he—

 (quickly changes course) Ah, nothing! Sasha, if you’re listening to this, absolutely nothing happened to your flag, and I definitely did not have it laundered before I returned it to you.

 TIM

 Aaaaand that’s it! Statement ends, I guess.

 See—easy! (a bit more seriously) But really—you don’t have to record one if you don’t want to, Martin.

 MARTIN

 …

 No, I- I want to.

 TIM

 Are you sure? I don’t want you to do that thing where you just do something because you think someone else wants you to.

 MARTIN

 I do not—!

 …

 Okay, okay, fine. Point taken. But yeah, I- I’m sure.

 [RUSTLING AS THE TAPE RECORDER IS PASSED FROM TIM TO MARTIN]

 MARTIN

 (with an audible smile) Statement of, er, Martin Blackwood. Regarding… a crush. No, no, wait—god, that sounds so juvenile. Regarding himself, and a person who- er, someone whom he—

 [HE SIGHS]

 Fine. Regarding a crush. Statement given June 10th, 2016.

 Statement begins.

 MARTIN (STATEMENT)

 I’m always a little embarrassed to tell people that I’ve never dated anyone before? Okay, a- a lot embarrassed, actually. I try not to bring it up, but people will say things like, oh, you know how it is to shop for a partner or meeting her parents is definitely nerve-wracking—which is wrong on, er, two accounts, actually—and then I feel more awkward not telling them that I don’t know, actually, because I’ve never been in a relationship longer than a week or so. Then, they’ll get all sympathetic, like it’s some- some tragedy that I’m not involved with someone, and that’s worse, because then they’ll offer to set me up with people, or say that they don’t understand why I’m single because I’m a catch or whatever, and I have to give them some excuse about not interested at the moment.

 It’s not that, not really. Dates with strangers, they- they just never work out for me.

 I think I fall somewhere on the aromantic spectrum? I didn’t think about it much until Sasha mentioned it once over drinks—I think you were there, Tim, although you were (laughs) very drunk by that point. I told her I hadn’t had a crush on anyone since sixth form, and she threw around a bunch of terms. I- I honestly don’t really remember, it was kind of overwhelming and (laughs) I was also pretty drunk as well. But yeah, it… it sounds about right.

 (hesitantly, as if bracing himself for impact) So… this person. Who I, er. Recently, that is, who I…

 [HE CLEARS HIS THROAT]

 It’s really strange, that’s all. And a- a lot. I—heh—I don’t really know what to do about it.

 MARTIN

…

 Uh, statement ends? I guess? I, uh, don’t really have anything else to say. (jokingly) It’s not like there’s any, er, follow-up or whatever. (to Tim) Was- was that okay?

 TIM

 (audibly smiling) Yup! Most excellent, Marto. (more seriously) You felt okay, right?

 MARTIN

 (huh) Yeah. Yeah, I- I did. A bit nice, actually. (quickly) As- as long as this stays in the archives, though. It… it is staying in the archives, right?

 TIM

 Oh, definitely. Right next to the section on love potions, I think.

 MARTIN

 Tim!

 TIM

 (laughs) Yes, Martin, it’s staying in the archives. Pinkie promise. Just you, me, Sasha, and Jon. (in the tone of a man who knows a great secret and wants nothing more than to share it) Speaking of Jon—

 MARTIN

 (quickly) Uh, recording ends!

 TIM

 (undeterred) —is he the—?

 [CLICK]

.

 [CLICK]

 SASHA

 Right. So, according to Tim, I’m supposed to be recording a statement on, quote, my “most swashbucklingest experience as an esteemed member of the LGBT community.” He left this recorder on my desk and stole my scone. Timothy Stoker, I will not forget that. It was white chocolate raspberry, and I’m stealing the money it cost out of your wallet.

 …

 Anyway.

[SHE CLEARS HER THROAT]

 Statement of Sasha James, given 10th June 2016. Subject of statement is… hmm. Let’s say… (laughs) A brief relationship with one Timothy Stoker.

 Statement begins.

 SASHA (STATEMENT)

 Tim, I know you’re listening to this, and I just want to preface this by saying that yes, it was Italian that we had for dinner that night, not Greek. You’re thinking of a different friendship-turned-hookup-turned-awkward-aftermath-turned-friendship.

 [SHE LAUGHS QUIETLY]

 Anyway, I guess the best place to begin with this whole thing is by saying that I’ve known I was aro since I was 16 and that I’ve never been very good at talking about it. I’ve ended plenty of tried and failed relationships with the it’s-not-you-it’s-me talk because I didn’t know how to explain that I just… wasn’t interested in romance.

 I wanted to explain it to you beforehand, Tim, I really, really did. We’ve had this conversation, I know I know—I won’t rehash it over tape.

 [SHE SIGHS]

 But the important thing is that I like you so, so much, and—god, this is stupid—I guess maybe I thought that it wouldn’t matter with you? That you could like me romantically and I could like you platonically and it would be fine. Like I said, stupid, but you asked me out to that Italian place—yes, Italian, for god’s sake, I had the chicken parm and you had some sort of lasagna abomination—and I just… couldn’t say no. And it was nice, really. I had a lot of fun.

 And then we slept together. And… that was really nice. But then, the next morning, the… the guilt set in. Because I felt the same as I always had about you—which is to say that I loved you, just not in the same way you loved me—and I became convinced that I’d gone and ruined the whole thing.

 Ignoring you for a week was probably not the correct response. (quieter) Yeah, definitely not my finest moment. But I’d gotten it in my head that the moment I told you that I didn’t feel that way about you and that I would never feel that way about you—or about anyone—you’d hate me. And you don’t have to say that you’d never hate me—I know you wouldn’t. I think I knew it then, too. But fear is a powerful thing.

 …

 Anyway, you know how it all turned out. You finally dragged me out to coffee and I finally told you why I’d been avoiding you and it was really, really awkward for about a month after that and then it just… wasn’t anymore. (audibly smiling) And you’re still my best friend, Tim. Even if you did steal my scone.

 [THE SOUND OF PAPERS RUSTLING AND A CHAIR ROLLING BACKWARD]

 Recording ends.

 [CLICK]

 .

 [CLICK]

 ARCHIVIST

 Statement of Kyle Henning, regarding a strange mushroom he found growing in his garden. Original statement given April 15th, 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

 Statement begi—

 [DOOR OPENS]

 TIM

 Hey boss! Got a moment?

 ARCHIVIST

 (irritated) Tim, please at least knock when the door to my office is closed. I was just about to record a statement.

 TIM

 (unbothered) So if you were about to, that means you’re not recording one right now, which means you do have a moment.

 ARCHIVIST

 (flatly) Shut the door on your way out, Tim.

 TIM

 (brightly) Right you are, boss! Juuuust going to leave this here on your desk. Bring it back whenever you’re done!

 [PAPERS RUSTLE AS SOMETHING IS PLACED ON THE DESK]

 ARCHIVIST

 (dryly) I’m fairly certain that I’m the one who assigns you tasks to complete, Tim.

 TIM

 That you do! I guess I better get back to them then. Have fun!

 ARCHIVIST

 (firmly) Tim—

 [DOOR CLOSES]

 [HE SIGHS]

 ARCHIVIST

 Right. Well, given that this recording is essentially useless now and I hadn’t even gotten to the statement, I may as well start over. (mutters under his breath) Bloody waste of tape and my time—

 [CLICK]

 .

 [CLICK]

 [PAPERS RUSTLE. FOR A MOMENT, THERE IS ONLY THE SOUND OF BREATHING. THEN, JON SIGHS.]

 ARCHIVIST

 Before I begin, I would like to make it very clear that this is not an appropriate use of working hours or the tape recorders, which should be used for statements that won’t record digitally as per Elias’s request.

 …

 That being said, I am… not entirely opposed to this project. So, I suppose…

 [HE CLEARS HIS THROAT]

 Statement of Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London, regarding… regarding a black ring worn on the middle finger of his right hand. Statement recorded by subject, June 10th, 2016.

 Statement begins.

 ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

 I’ve often been told that I am not a very open person. I don’t necessarily intend to be closed-off, but I’ve also never found the need to disclose every aspect of my personal life to everyone I come into contact with. And yes, Tim—because I trust that you and you alone will be listening to this tape—that is a perfectly respectable way to live one’s life. Not everyone needs to know what I ate for breakfast that morning or who my favorite primary school teacher was.

 …

 I… will admit, though, that in certain circumstances, I… could probably stand to be more transparent regarding aspects of my personal life. Perhaps that’s why Georgie bought me the ring.

 It wasn’t a special occasion. She just brought it back from the shop one day, a few weeks after a… particularly illuminating conversation about certain sexual identities, and dropped it atop my copy of Wuthering Heights. Honestly, I had no idea what it was at first. I- (heh) I tried to make a joke about unorthodox proposals, but I- I don’t really think it landed. Georgie just looked at me and said that she’d seen it on one of the online forums, that it was called an ace ring, and that she thought I might like it. I think I was more surprised about the fact that the ring fit perfectly than at the fact that she’d bought me the ring in the first place.

 So I wore it. And it felt… nice. Understand, I don’t keep quiet about my romantic and sexual identities out of shame or embarrassment or indecision; I simply don’t feel the need to announce them at any given moment. So I’ve always been fond of small things—pins and stickers and such—that I can incorporate into my life, insignificant enough that they aren’t readily apparent to anyone but me, as they’re for me more than for anyone else. My ring is one such thing.

 [THERE IS A MOMENT OF SILENCE. MORE WORDS SIT IN THE AIR, WAITING. EVENTUALLY, HOWEVER, HE SIGHS, AND THE WORDS REMAIN UNSAID.]

 ARCHIVIST

 Statement ends.

 …

 Right.

 (with something that might be a smile) As for your other request, I do have a prior engagement with Georgie and Melanie this weekend. Though if you’re willing to accommodate two more, I’m sure they wouldn’t be opposed to coming along. Georgie’s always telling me that Pride is more fun when you’re with a group, after all.

 End recording.

 [CLICK]

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Sleepless in the Tower

Title: Sleepless in the Tower

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rodgers!Reader

Requested?: Yes! : Hi can I request a peter parker x reader please where I'm in a relationship with peter and I'm bucky and Steve's daughter and me and MJ go to a night club that we told not to go to and I end up getting really drunk and she ends up having to call peter and he takes me back to the tower trying to wake everyone up but ik being so loud and everyone goes mad that snuck out and got drunk and my dads try to take care of me but I just want peter thanks xx

Warnings: Teenage alcohol use, wild mood swings, Peter being scared shitless of your dads

Word count: hahahahahahahahahahaha...7K

Summary: Y/N’s drunk, Bucky’s angry, and Peter just wants to get some sleep.

    Peter Parker was not one to usually get the of 8 hours of sleep that was recommended for guys his age. Between homework, studying for decathlon, spending time with May, going on patrol, and trying to squeeze in more than just a few spare minutes with Y/N a day outside of school, sleep just didn’t fit into his schedule. Peter didn't dare complain. He loved doing all of those other things, and if sacrificing a few hours of sleep here or there was the price he’d have to pay for them, he’d willingly pay it. 

    Even so, he wasn’t completely tone-deaf to his body’s needs. Peter could tell he’d been running more than a few hours short for the past few days, but he had yet to find a way to get some sleep without letting one of his other responsibilities fall by the wayside. It was getting to the point where he was thinking very seriously about just taking a quick nap right on the roof where he was currently perched. If he was being completely honest, only the mental image of May and Y/N absolutely losing it if they found out about his little rooftop snooze was keeping him awake. Frowning, he yawned for what felt like the millionth time that night as he scanned the mostly empty streets. He was more than used to the constant urge to sleep, and was sure he could make it the next few hours without passing out.

Still, everyone had a breaking point, and Peter was relatively sure that he was nearing his. 

Miraculously, it seemed luck was on his side tonight. His patrol had practically flown by without much of a hitch -- save a few random muggings, Queens seemed pretty quiet. Peter felt a small bit of hope begin to bubble and build in his chest as he realized that he was going to get to go home early for once. Even more exciting was the fact that tomorrow was Saturday, and he had the opportunity to actually sleep in for once. He grinned beneath his signature mask, exhausted body beginning to tingle with anticipation at the prospect as he swung his way home. 

Peter had barely made it in his bedroom window before he flopped face-first into his mattress -- suit, mask, and all. He groaned loudly at the way his soft bed felt against his exhausted and aching muscles, thoroughly pleased and delighted at the welcome comfort. As he grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and snuggled his mask-clad face into it, it suddenly occurred to him that he was falling asleep at an alarming pace and that he was still wearing his full suit. Peter groaned internally as he pictured all the jabs and jokes Mr. Stark would surely come up with once he found out Peter had fallen asleep in the suit.

Again. 

Peter idly contemplated the effort it would take to remove it before eventually deciding in favor of not moving. Mr. Stark could tease all he wanted -- and he surely would -- but there was nothing on Earth that was going to make Peter move from his bed for the next 12 hours or so. 

Just as he was beginning to drift off, the dull buzzing of his cellphone registered somewhere in the back of his mind. Still too tired to properly function, Peter ignored the annoying sound and stubbornly attempted to fall asleep even faster now, before something could get in his way. Eventually the noise mercifully stopped and Peter smiled a little, feeling slightly smug that he'd successfully ignored the distraction.

“Peter?” KAREN chirped. 

Though the AI’s voice was as smooth and gentle as ever, the sudden sound in his ear breaking through the silence of the room startled Peter. He jolted upwards and yelped in surprise before scanning his bedroom urgently. Realizing that there was nothing visibly amiss, he flopped back down onto his pillows and groaned loudly. Thoroughly annoyed at whatever, or whoever, could be the cause of the interruption, Peter merely grunted in response as he screwed his eyes shut once more. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, but per the protocols you set I’m alerting you that Y/N has called you more than twice and you haven’t responded,” the AI calmly reported. 

Peter muttered incoherently in acknowledgement as he drifted in and out of consciousness, and KAREN fell silent. For a beat or two it seemed the tired superhuman had finally succumbed to the sleep that’d been threatening to claim him all evening -- his body still and breaths slowing steadily. 

Until KAREN’s words sunk into his mind and his eyes shot open. 

Peter gasped -- the hairs on the back of his arms suddenly standing upright and his skin prickling with alarm as he bolted up once more-- this time fully awake. 

“Y/N’s been calling?” he questioned KAREN, heart beating wildly and thoughts racing with the possibilities of what could be causing his girlfriend to call him at… “Also what time is it?”

“It’s 3 am Peter”, came KAREN’s calm reply. “She’s called you three times so far, and it appears she’s calling again right now.”

Peter lunged for his backpack -- it was propped up against the wall where he’d tossed it carelessly earlier tonight as he’d scrambled through the window. Fingers practically vibrating with anxious energy, he dug through the mess in his bag frantically in search of his phone. Finally finding it, he quickly swiped across the picture of the two of you that was flashing on his screen. 

"Y/N?" he questioned breathlessly. "What's going on, what's wrong?"

"PETEYY," you sang through the phone. "Oh my gosh I misssssed you!"

Peter felt his brows crinkle in confusion. You never called this late, knowing that he was usually on patrol at this time. Plus, he could sense that something was off just by the sound of your voice. Your words were just slightly slurred together, and the pitch was a little higher than it normally was. It reminded him of the way you sounded right before you fell asleep, when you were really, really tired. Peter briefly considered that you might actually be calling him in your sleep, but the constant buzz of voices and noises in the background that weren't yours told him otherwise.

"Y/N babe what's going on? Where are you?" he asked nervously. 

" 'm out with MJ and we saw this totally awesome band and OH. Petey you should've seen them they were so awesome! You would've loved it. The guitar player was...," you chattered excitedly through the phone, completely oblivious to your boyfriend's obvious concern. Peter's brows furrowed deeper, and he felt his face contort into a look of pure confusion. 

"That's great babe, but I'm confused," Peter cut off your rambling abruptly. "Where are you?"

"Mmmm I'm not really sure!" came your thoroughly unbothered reply. "Somewhere in the city maybe? Yep. Definitely in the city."

Peter sighed, a gloved hand coming to rest on his covered head in exasperation. 

"What? Sorry -- no MJ, it's Peter!" he heard you mumble to someone else. "Petey? MJ wants to talk to you, 'kay?"

There was some shuffling on the other end of the phone before Peter heard MJ's voice. 

"Hey."

"MJ? What the heck is happening?" he questioned for what felt like the hundredth time in just a few minutes. 

"Y/N just showed up at my door tonight and dragged me out to see this show," she explained casually. "It was actually pretty cool, but anyways people have been buying her drinks left and right the entire time. So now she is wasted and, don't get me wrong, it's hilarious, but I have absolutely no idea how I'm going to get her home."

"Wait, Y/N is drunk?" Peter exclaimed, shocked. Never in all the years that he'd known you would he have ever thought that you'd be calling him at 3 in the morning, drunk. You were only 17! You were incredibly smart and goal-driven -- underaged drinking was just not something Peter would've expected from you. 

"As a skunk," MJ replied in her deadpan voice. The knot of concern twisted deeper in Peter's belly as he realized the potential danger of your situation. 

"PETEY! Is that Peter? Tell him I love him!" Peter could hear you yelling from somewhere around your phone's speaker. Ignoring the light blush that always seemed to creep up his face whenever you said things like that, he asked again where the two of them were. MJ calmly gave him the address, and he instantly grabbed his backpack, scrambling onto his fire escape and out into the night. 

"Okay, just stay there, I'm coming," he grunted as he swung from building to building. 

"I'll do my best, but you might want to hurry," MJ agreed cautiously. "Your girl is about 10 seconds away from throwing a punch."

"She's what -- why?!"

"No, I told you I don't want another one! You are being so pushy right now!" Peter heard your irritated voice, slightly muffled in the background. 

Anger and panic started to burn in his chest like acid as he realized that someone, probably some dude, was making you feel uncomfortable. The anger churned and mixed with the concern in his belly, creating a fire the likes of which he'd never felt before. He'd been angry before, sure, but this feeling was entirely new. The protective feelings only intensified as he pictured you, alone and vulnerable as some creep was pushing his way into your space. 

"I'm coming," Peter growled as he increased his speed. 

MJ ended the call, and Peter started throwing himself through the skyline as fast as his muscles would physically allow. He wasn't sure who you'd been arguing with or why, but the pit of anxiety in the bottom of his stomach was only growing bigger the longer he wasn't with you. 

All he knew was he needed to find you and find you fast. 

------------

Even though Peter's mind was screaming for him to get to you as soon as possible, he realized that him trying to find you while still wearing his suit was problematic at best. So he changed as fast as he could, throwing his regular clothes over his suit, just in case. 

Nearly tripping over his own feet in his attempt to get out of the alley quickly, Peter's eyes scanned the busy street. His eyes washed over the crowd, desperately searching, before they finally landed on your face. You were swaying your hips to an imaginary beat and singing quietly to yourself near the street. MJ was sitting on the curb near you, watching your performance with amusement written all over her features. Relief surged through him at the sight of your cheerful expression, and he swiftly jogged to your side. 

"Hey, you finally made it," MJ remarked sarcastically as he reached the two of you. Peter rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the small grin that was rapidly taking over his face at the sight of you. You looked so happy, so free, that the feelings radiating from you combined with the lingering relief Peter still felt made the poor boy let out a breath for the first time since he'd taken your call.  

You, however, still hadn't noticed that your much beloved boyfriend had arrived. Though you'd been whining to MJ about wanting to see him for the past few hours, you were extremely distracted at the moment. Save the few sips of scotch you'd snuck from your dads every now and again you'd never really drank before, and now that you were decidedly tipsy you were feeling great. You weren't really sure what the source was, but your body felt like it almost couldn't help but move. It could be the leftover adrenaline from the concert, the thrill of sneaking out late, the five (or ten) drinks you'd had, or some combination therein, but you felt incredible. 

Your body felt like it was practically buzzing with energy. Humming along to your favorite song, you hopped one foot onto the curb gracefully-- or more likely clumsily -- and began taking slow, wobbling steps down the narrow path. You idly wondered when Peter would arrive, the sudden thought causing the butterflies in your stomach to kick up in excited anticipation. As you walked the curb like a tightrope your brain was filled with images of his handsome features, and you felt your face break out into an even wider grin. Surely he must be getting close by now? It felt like years since you'd talked with him on the phone, and -- 

Your thought abruptly cut-off as you felt the foot closest to the street slide suddenly out from underneath you. Reflexes all but non-existent at this point, you only managed to let out the briefest gasp before you tumbled off the curb completely.

“Whoa,” a voice sounded in your ear. Someone was gripping your body tightly, arms supporting your entire weight to prevent you from toppling face-first into the street. The voice sounded familiar in a way your alcohol-infused brain couldn’t place right away. Scrunching your face in confusion, you quickly scrambled your way out of the stranger’s arms and put some distance between the two of you. Turning suddenly, you spared a glance at your savior, internally hoping it was someone you at least knew. A brief look was all you needed, confusion giving way to pure excitement as a jolt of recognition ran through you. 

"PETEY," you squealed, happiness bubbling up in your hazed mind as Peter's face came into your line of vision. You threw your arms open expectantly, and Peter chuckled lightly before pulling you into his embrace once more.

"Getting into all kinds of trouble, huh babe?" Peter whispered fondly into your hair, the gentle feeling of his breath tickling your scalp and making you smile. You let out a girly (and very out of character) giggle, snuggling deeper into your boyfriend's arms. 

"Mmm nope, no trouble here," you hummed playfully, grin widening as you felt Peter's chest gently vibrate as he chuckled. Unbeknownst to either of you MJ rolled her eyes incredulously. 

"Yeah right," she snorted. "Tell it to that guy."

Peter followed her jutted out thumb to see an older guy, standing near the bouncers of the nightclub with a surly expression and a prominent welt forming under one of his eyes. Peter pulled himself out of your death grip just far enough to send you a curious glance.

"Y/N...?" he questioned, clearly hoping for an explanation. Your eyes traveled to the man in question, irritation blossoming in your chest as you recognized him. 

"I don't like him," you huffed. MJ chuckled. 

"You don't say" she drawled sarcastically. "I would never have guessed, ya know, by the way you punched him in the face."

"You did what," Peter exclaimed.

"Punched him!", you piped up from his chest, smiling proudly at yourself. 

Peter took a slight step back and stared at you, wide-eyed and slack jawed. He couldn't picture you, his intelligent and sweet girlfriend punching anyone, much less a grown man, in the face. He sputtered incoherently, unable to formulate a response. 

You giggled at the look of pure confusion on his face for a moment before deciding you should probably explain. 

"Mhm, he was being really obnoxious! He kept, like, insisting -- no demanding-- to buy me a drink, and I obviously told him no way cause I didn't want one. And also I told him that my boyfriend was coming, but he didn't believe me! Fucking jerk, right? So I went to walk away, 'cause I was getting really annoyed, and he grabbed my arm really hard and wouldn't let go! So I punched him," you babbled, annoyance and pride lingering on your face as you recalled the encounter. 

Peter just stared for a moment, the adorable dumbfounded look still overtaking his sweet face as you told the story. An all too familiar feeling of complete adoration for him washed over your intoxicated brain like a wave as you watched him try to process things. How you came to deserve someone like Peter was still beyond you. 

"Yeah it was pretty awesome," MJ agreed, a sly smile taking over her features. "Guy was a total creep."

You huffed again, childishly shoving your face back into Peter's firm chest. 

"He was mean."

Peter’s protective hold over your body tightened as soon as the words tumbled from your lips. It seemed he'd finally broken past his complete shock and was now in full defensive mode. You looked up to find his normally peaceful, chocolate-brown eyes turned suddenly dark with anger, and you could feel the way his muscles tensed as he shot the man a glare. Guilt wormed its way into your chest as you realized how things probably sounded to your over-protective, chivalrous-to-a-fault boyfriend. 

Trying to think quickly, before Peter did something he was sure to regret later, you grabbed his face with both of your hands. He hesitated for only a moment before willingly allowing you to turn his face back towards yours. Smiling deviously, you peppered kisses all over his quickly reddening face in an outward show of affection. 

The effect was almost instantaneous. Peter's eyes softened and his cheeks heated with a light blush that made your tummy erupt into butterflies. Best of all, his lips quirked up into your favorite sweet, crooked smile. 

You gripped his body a little tighter, suddenly wobbly on your feet. The sight of Peter in all his lovely, shy glory never failed to make your knees weak, and this moment was no exception. Even though you admittedly probably wouldn't have been able to stand upright without Peter's support regardless. 

"Hey, s'okay Petey, I took care of it," you reassured him in between kisses. He sighed, pulling you closer into the fold of his arms and burying his face into your hair. 

"I know, I just got nervous when you called," he murmured against your head. "And then I heard you arguing with that guy and I couldn't stop picturing all the terrible things that could be happening. And I was just so scared because I wasn't there, and if anything ever happened to you I just… I couldn't…"

Your heart swelled with an overwhelming feeling of pure guilt as Peter trailed off. How could you be so stupid. Of course he was worried, it was Peter. The things he'd been through, the things he still saw on a daily basis. You sniffled, tears stinging your eyes as you realized just how upset you'd made him. You gripped Peter even more tightly, and a small sob ripped through your throat as you spiralled instantly into a pit of self-loathing.

"I-- 'm so s-sorry Peter," you blubbered, your voice muffled by his chest as big, sloppy tears rolled uncontrollably down your cheeks. "I didn't mean to make you worry, I just was having so much fun and I re-really wanted to see you!"

"Hey, hey," his smooth voice cooed in your ear as his hands began rubbing across your back lovingly. "It's okay, you're safe now and that's all that really matters. Please don't cry Y/N/N, it's okay angel."

His sweet words of reassurance did little to quell the tsunami of tears now flowing freely from your eyes. In fact, the idea that he was now comforting you when you were the one who'd caused this problem in the first place was only making things worse. You openly sobbed against his chest, too drunk on alcohol and self-loathing to really care that every person who walked past was eyeing you both with a mixture of pity and annoyance. 

It went on like this for several minutes (or maybe hours? You couldn't really be sure at this point), until Michelle cleared her throat loudly. 

"Not to break up this cute little love-fest--" she ground out, discomfort breaking through her disinterested facade. "-but I'd really like to get home now."

Peter's face flushed instantly, the adorable pink flooding from his neck to the tips of his ears. He backed from you a little but kept your bodies linked by threading his fingers through yours. You couldn't help but giggle at his obvious embarrassment, your tears drying as you were suddenly flooded with feelings of adoration for your sweet boy. Peter cleared his throat and nodded at MJ. 

---------------------

Peter considered himself pretty brave. He fought off thieves, muggers, and would-be bank robbers on a near nightly basis. He faced the most sinister parts of his city with absolutely no fear at all, but at the moment he couldn't have felt more like a scared child. Because if he was being really honest, the thought of facing either one of your dads made him feel scared absolutely shitless even during the best of times. 

And clearly this was not the best of times. 

The mere thought of trying to explain why he was not only helping you sneak back into the tower in the middle of the night, but sneaking you back in while you were completely wasted, made Peter feel like he could vomit on the spot. He knew your dads were only begrudgingly okay with the idea of the two of you dating, and the fact that he was now bringing their sweet, innocent baby girl home -- drunk-- in the ungodly hours of the morning would surely do little to endear him to them. But nevertheless, you clearly needed the help, and Peter's instinctual need to protect you outweighed the pure terror he felt when thinking of your dads. 

And boy did you need help. 

If he hadn't been by your side the entire time he would've sworn you'd snuck a couple more drinks on the way home. If he thought you'd been loud beforehand, it was nothing compared to now. The entire cab ride home had consisted mainly of you alternating between singing loudly as you described the concert for the millionth time, sobbing because you 'just love you so much Petey!', or you sloppily planting as many kisses all over Peter's face as you could. If he was being honest with himself, Peter would have to admit that he found your alcohol and sleep drunk state extremely cute; if he wasn't so terrified at the prospect of your dads seeing you like this, that is. 

Getting you through the tower was simultaneously easier and much more difficult than Peter anticipated. Easier because you'd hacked into FRIDAY's system before you'd left and somehow deactivated the security alarm for the two of you. And so much more difficult because getting you to your room quietly was seeming virtually impossible. Outside of the fact that you practically screamed every time a new thought popped into your head (which was frequently), you also continually tripped over nothing at all and landed in a heap on the floor. Even clinging to Peter’s arm with a kind of death grip that was making his fingers feel slightly numb you still managed to find a way to fall over every few steps. 

“Whoopsies!” you ‘whispered’ giggling as you looked up at him from the floor once more . Peter sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes in frustration. While he was glad you’d taken his note about talking more quietly, the stage-whisper you’d taken to speaking in wasn’t exactly an improvement. As he helped you back on to your feet for the millionth time, he glanced down the hallway to see how far the two of you still had to go. He groaned and cursed under his breath -- you were moving at a near glacial pace, and the pair of you had only made it as far as the common room. Deciding a different approach was necessary, Peter motioned with a finger to his lips for you to remain silent before swiftly picking you up. One of his arms wrapped under your knees and the other around your shoulders as he scooped you up, cradling you like a child against his chest. Ignoring the way you squealed at the sudden movement he started walking towards your room, determination written all over his face. 

“How can you be so cute?” you questioned playfully. Peter’s eyes widened at the sound of your loud voice, internally begging you to quiet down. Evidently you did not get the subtle message -- instead, you attacked his face with kisses, cooing and fawning over him loudly as you did. Fear burned through Peter at the sheer amount of noise you were making and he jerked his head away from you in a futile attempt to quiet you down. 

Peter looked down at you with wide, pleading eyes. He shook his head silently, motioning once more for you to remain quiet. Your face scrunched in confusion as you looked up at him, bottom lip trembling. 

“Y-you don’t want my kisses?”

Peter stopped, eyes widening even more as he caught sight of your distress. Peter's heart broke as he saw the hot, fresh tears springing up in your eyes and the look of utter rejection plastered all over your features. Had you been even slightly more sober you would’ve seen the guilty look in his eyes as he realized just how his small action came across to you, but you were too wrapped up in your own feelings to notice. Those few tears had turned almost instantly to full-blown sobs, and you were now louder than ever. 

“No no no no, that’s not true. You know I love your kisses sweetheart,” Peter whispered urgently. He glanced nervously down the hallway, praying silently that you hadn’t woken anyone and that you wouldn’t get any louder. You scoffed, oblivious to his fear and overwhelmed with that kind of indignation that only drunk people could seem to muster up. 

“You don’t!” you exclaimed loudly, shoving yourself out of Peter’s arms in protest. “You don’t, otherwise you wouldn’t pull away!”

“I’m sorry, so sorry, Y/N/N,” Peter murmured desperately, hands reaching out to try and connect with yours. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, I just don’t want to wake anyone up or get you in trouble.”

You slapped his hands away, thoroughly enraged and too stubborn to listen to his reasoning. 

“That's not even true, you just hate me! Go ahead and just say it!” you shouted. Peter’s eyebrows shot up practically to the ceiling, complete shock written across his face. 

“What?! No no no no, Y/N/N that’s absolutely not true, you have to know that's not t--”

Peter’s pleading was abruptly cut off as the lights above the two of you flicked on and the entire common room flooded with light. Peter froze, hands still held upwards in defense as he faced you, too scared to turn and face the source of the light. 

    “Underoos?” he heard Mr. Stark’s confused voice from behind him. “Y/N? What the hells going on?”

    Peter swallowed thickly before turning to see the entirety of the team gathered in the doorway, all clearly having woken up to the commotion you were causing. If he wasn’t so completely petrified he might have found their various choices of sleepwear interesting. But he didn’t exactly have time to think about how Thor was wearing large fluffy pajama bottoms embroidered with storm clouds right now. Especially as he caught sight of your dads’ expressions. Arms crossed and clearly fuming with anger, Bucky was sending Peter a glare that could only be described as murderous as he appraised the scene in front of him, and Steve looked to be thoroughly confused. Clearly the slower of the two to wake, he was standing near his husband with sleep-ruffled hair and an expression like he was struggling to process the fact that he was even out of bed, much less the scene in front of him.

    “Yes Parker, please do explain why my daughter is crying in the middle of the night and what you’re even doing here at all,” Bucky barked. 

    “Hey-- uh -- Y/N she was...I-I was just trying to--” Peter stuttered, unable to really muster much of a response. He always thought that people were exaggerating when they said they were paralyzed by fear, but he knew that in this moment that they were right. It felt like he was trapped under the terrifying weight of your dad’s menacing look -- sheer panic swirled and clouded his thoughts, and he felt his mind go completely blank. 

    You, even though you’d been livid with him mere moments ago, seemed to sense his discomfort and threaded your fingers through Peter’s in a show of support. Peter felt his breath hitch just the slightest bit at your affectionate response, the crushing weight on his chest lifting just a little. He glanced at you quickly, sending you a look of appreciation as he squeezed your hand gently. You grinned upwards, all resentment clearly forgotten. 

    “Ahem,” Tony cleared his throat amusedly. Peter felt his cheeks heat up, embarrassment filling his chest and mixing with the fear that lingered there. You, however, seemed completely oblivious to the severity of the situation.

    “Hi guys. Nice jammies Thor,” you grinned sweetly at the team, waving your free hand in greeting. Several people chuckled, evidently amused at your behavior, and Thor yawned widely before shooting you a thumbs up. Your dads seemed to be the only ones still angry, Steve having to seemingly caught on to what was happening. 

    “Y/N Barnes-Rodgers, what on earth is going on here?” he asked harshly, arms coming to rest across his chest. Rather inappropriately and to Peter's extreme discomfort, you giggled loudly instead of an appropriate response. 

"You look so funny with your hair like that," you giggled uncontrollably, the hand not currently entwined with Peter's resting on your stomach as you laughed. Peter closed his eyes, unable to physically stand the awkward tension surrounding the two of you any longer. 

"Kid, level with me. Is she shit-faced?" Sam's amused and slightly shocked voice broke through the silence. Peter's eyes shot open, mouth agape as Bucky's glare deepend and his face turned a concerning shade of red. Steve, much like Peter, simply looked appalled at the accusation. His expression shifted from one of denial, to rage, profound sadness, and finally back to angry as he came to terms with what was going on. Peter opened and closed his mouth several times, wishing for nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow him whole, when his attention was suddenly pulled back to you. 

"I think I'm gonna be sick," you mumbled, face rapidly paling and both hands flying towards your mouth. Peter's hands were instantly on you, resting over the small of your back and rubbing gently as concern washed over him. You spared him a single wide-eyed glance before darting down the hall. 

"Oh my little дорогая," Wanda hummed sympathetically as she breezed past Peter to follow you. Nat wasn't far behind her, patting Peter fondly on the back as she too disappeared into your room. 

"Parker." 

Peter gulped audibly before slowly turning to face the rest of the team. Sam and Clint were laughing uncontrollably while Thor simply chuckled beside them, Tony had a gleam in his eye that betrayed his utter amusement at the situation, and now both of your dads were glaring at Peter with so much sheer force he was honestly surprised he wasn't already dead. 

"If I were you I'd start explaining. Now." Steve addressed him firmly, leaving no room for discussion. Peter sighed again and started to tell the entire story of how he'd gotten to this point. His hands were shaking the entire time and he was honestly pretty proud that he didn't physically pass out under Bucky's rage-filled stare. 

By the end, Sam and Clint had all but fallen to the floor they were laughing so hard. Thor was nowhere to be seen, having left the room after he lost interest in the topic at hand. Bruce had sent Peter a compassionate look before he too left, presumably heading back to bed now that he knew there was no immediate threat. 

Well, to anyone except Peter that is. 

Though Steve had left mid-way through Peter's recounting, Bucky hadn't moved an inch. He was still standing stoically in front of Peter, eyes dark with anger and distrust, arms crossed tightly against his chest. Peter couldn't take his eyes off your dad's metal arm, fretting silently about the many possibilities the lethal appendage held. 

"So let me get this straight," Tony interrupted Peter's mental musings. "You're saying Y/N snuck out to see some concert and didn't ask you to go with her, but then called you because she was too drunk to get home on her own?"

Peter nodded fervently. 

"That...makes perfect sense to me," Tony shrugged, looking over at Bucky. Turning his icy stare towards Tony for a moment, Bucky's arms finally fell to his sides, fists clenched in anger. 

"No it doesn't." he growled. He jammed his finger accusingly towards Peter. "He's lying."

Tony rolled his eyes, but before he could reply he was cut off by Steve popping his head out of your room.

"Buck. We've got a problem." 

"Yeah, I know," Bucky scoffed, eyes never leaving Peter's face as he replied. 

"Bucky." Steve snapped. "I mean an actual problem."

Brows raised in surprise, Bucky paused only momentarily before rushing over to his husband. Peter shared a quick glance with Tony, worry coating his features as he followed Bucky into your room. 

"Come on doll, open up," Bucky was pleading through your bathroom door. Steve was standing just to the side of him, fingers threading tiredly through his blonde locks. Peter felt his brows furrow in confusion. 

"No!" 

"Nat, what's going on?" he asked quietly as you continued to argue with your dads through the door. Nat smiled knowingly.

"She's locked us all out. Says she won't talk to anyone except you wonderkid."

Peter felt his face flush bright red at the implication, and the butterflies that'd been laid dormant for so long fluttered hopefully in his stomach. They were quickly squashed as he caught your dad staring daggers at him, and he gulped once more. 

"Peter, would you mind?" Steve asked tiredly. Peter's eyes widened and he physically turned to see if there was another Peter he could possibly be talking to. 

"M-me?" he squeaked. Steve nodded, and Peter cautiously approached your bathroom door before knocking lightly with shaky hands. "Y/N/N? It's me, can you open the door please?"

"Petey?" you mumbled through the door. Peter's heart felt heavy at the way you sounded so small. It was clear you'd been crying more, and his hands twitched with the desire to comfort you. 

"Yeah it's me angel," he murmured. "Can you come out? Please?"

You hesitated for a moment, and Peter would've sworn the everyone in the room was holding their breath waiting for your response. 

"No."

Peter sighed, deflating like a balloon and leaning his forehead against the door.  

"Come on sweetheart, Peter's here now like you wanted. Can you please unlock the door?" Steve pleaded. 

"No! You guys are just gonna make him leave as soon as I'm out, and I don't want him to go!" you protested stubbornly. Bucky clapped his hands over his face in exasperation.

"Doll you know the rules, your...friend isn't allowed to stay overnight," Bucky retaliated firmly, glaring at Peter once more. 

"Then I'm not coming out!". 

Peter groaned in disbelief, head banging lightly against the door. This was not how he thought his night would be going. Or rather morning? He realized suddenly that he didn't even know what time it was at this point. All he did know was that you and your dad were two of the most stubborn people on the planet, and he might be stuck outside your bathroom door for the next few days if one of you didn't relent soon. His eyelids grew heavy at the mere thought, entire face pressing against the door in total exhaustion. 

"Okay," Steve interjected, hands raised in surrender. "Okay fine. Y/N, Peter can stay."

"What?!"

Both Peter's confused squeak and Bucky's roar immediately echoed one another, the two of them flabbergasted by Steve's concession.

"Steve. Absolutely not. No way," Bucky growled, eyes wide as he shot his husband a look of pure shock. Steve frowned at him, crossing his arms defiently across his broad chest. 

"Buck. It's late, I'm too tired to deal with this now. They can stay on the couch, in the living room that way we can keep an eye on them," Steve replied. Bucky gaped at him, eyes travelling between him and Peter as his mouth opened and closed wordlessly. "I mean for God's sake look at Peter! The poor kid's about to fall asleep standing up!"

"Hmm?" Peter hummed, too tired to lift his head much from the door. Natasha clicked her tongue, pity written all over her face. Bucky crossed his arms too, face dark as he contemplated things. After a period of tense silence, he finally sighed, arms falling to his sides. 

“Fine,” he growled. “But I’m not happy about it.”

“Okay,” Tony chirped, clapping his hands together and startling the half-asleep Peter. “So it's settled! You hear that Y/N? Spiderling can stay, so you can open up now.”

Peter glanced hopefully towards the door, praying silently for you to finally see reason and come out. The entire team stared for a few moments, everyone wordlessly waiting for you to respond. Slowly the sound of the lock clicking open broke the silence of the room, and Peter outwardly sighed in appreciation. You cautiously opened the door, innocent wide eyes scanning the room before you stepped out fully to sheepishly face the group. 

Your face was still paler than usual, though it was worlds better than the white-and-green color you’d been as you ran away. There were stains from your tears marring the soft skin of your cheeks, and your eyes sparkled with a look of such exhaustion and guilt that it took Peter’s breath away a little. Instinctually, he opened his arms for you and you gratefully stepped into the fold of his embrace. Burying your face into Peter’s chest like a little kid, you rubbed your nose against the soft fabric of his shirt and hummed lowly in comfort. Peter’s face rested lightly atop your head, eyes closing once more as a synchronized wave of exhaustion overcame you both. 

“Barf. Alright, seeing as this little show seems to be over with now, I’m going back to sleep,” Tony’s loud chuckle broke the silence of the room once more. The rest of the team muttered their agreement, everyone filtering out as they said their goodbyes. You detangled yourself from Peter, sleepily murmuring something about changing into your pajamas. Peter took it upon himself to leave your room then, not wanting to push your dads’ patience any further than you already had for the evening. Steve too left the room, clapping Peter on the back as he set out in the direction of his room and quietly thanking him. 

It wasn’t long before Peter found himself lying on the common room’s couch, covered in a mountain of blankets with you wrapped around his body and sleeping soundly. You were sprawled out on practically top of him, arms and legs tangled around him in such a way that he wasn’t entirely sure where your limbs started and his ended. You were lying facing one another with your arms and legs clung around his middle, fingers wound tightly into the small hairs on the back of his head, and face pressed into his chest. His own arms were wrapped securely around your body, still slightly afraid that you would fall off the side of the plush sofa even though you’d clearly locked onto him on your own. Despite the somewhat strange positioning of your bodies, Peter felt immense comfort from your presence; the butterflies in his stomach were dancing around joyfully as he sleepily appraised your features and tried his best to commit them to memory. Your face was adorably squashed a little due to the way you pressed it into his chest, and Peter couldn’t help but find you incredibly cute in this moment. Even with the clear line of drool running from your mouth pooling on his chest. 

Yawning quietly, Peter snuggled a little deeper into your hold and hummed happily when he felt your sleeping limbs pull him in closer. Finally ready to put this day to rest, he closed his eyes contentedly. He was nearly asleep, breaths slowing to an even pace when suddenly all the hairs on his body stood upright. Heart racing, he scanned the darkened room worriedly, wondering what could cause his senses to go haywire all of the sudden. When he could find no immediate sources of danger he almost chalked his body’s response up to a state of pure sleep-deprivation, and he was just about to settle in once more when he saw it. 

A figure, dark and hidden in the shadows of the room that had only the nearly rising sun as a source of light, sitting near the windows and watching the two of you. Peter’s heart rate immediately picked up speed as he willed his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Slowly, the figure came into focus. 

It was your dad. 

Bucky was sitting stoically in a chair, arms crossed as he sullenly watched the two of you. He caught Peter’s frantic gaze on him and smiled darkly at his daughter’s boyfriend. Motioning for him to continue, Bucky settled back into his chair with a threatening and somewhat gleeful expression on his face. Peter swallowed thickly, snapping his eyes away from the super-soldier and scrunching them closed as his heart thudded against his ribacge. You stretched out a little in your sleep -- completely oblivious to your dad’s presence as you happily cuddled into Peter’s embrace. Peter laid like that for an immeasurable amount of time, heart still pounding wildly and body frozen against yours. He felt paralyzed under the weight of your dad’s stare and wondered internally what he’d ever done to deserve the position he was in now. 

At least he was used to going without sleep, because it didn’t seem like he’d be getting any anytime soon. 

Taglist: @rororo06​

[metalbvcky]

2020 Fic Year in Review

I’m waiting for my Sims game to finish updating, so I thought I’d do this since I saw @kalee60‘s post about it :) 

Total number of completed stories: 

14 (15 if you include a short 1am-oneshot I orphaned haha) 

Total number of words: 

111,575 (and that’s not including stuff I scrapped/haven’t posted omg) 

Fandoms written in:

Marvel/Stucky but also Supernatural (on my main) just a tad because haven’t posted anything yet but I’m including it anyway haha 

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

Oh, absolutely! Heck, I never thought I’d write anything when it comes to fic because I’ve always kept quiet about my writing. (And I’ve been doing it since I was like 12 and it all started with my Club Penguin phase pffft)  But my interest turned into an obsession rather quickly and I honestly can say, without a doubt, that @buckybees​ is the whole reason why I even got the courage to post my first fic! I’m so glad I did because writing fic has given me a new perspective on fandom in general. And it makes me appreciate fandom/fanon even more. 

What’s your own favourite story of the year?

Pretty much all of them but Bucky's Got a Bun in the Oven? holds a special place in my heart. Not only was it my first published fic, but I never thought I’d write something like that. I go back and re-read it frequently since it’s so short. 

No lie: Sometimes I look back at that fic and it makes me wanna write a series of short oneshots with Pregnant!Bucky. Like, just Domestic Steve/Bucky living in the modern day with a baby on the way. Bucky shopping for baby clothes, decorating the nursery, having snack parties with Natasha, taking care of the baby after the birth, those sort of things. Oh, I think I just talked myself into another idea. 😂 

Did you take any writing risks this year?

Ehh, not really? However, I did write a series of crack oneshots lol. Some are crazier than others. 

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year?

Apple Pie Crumble Cake - This is my #1 goal. It’s a Bakery!AU Kid Fic that I’ve been planning for months. It’s gonna be multi-chaptered, and at least 50k. I have 10 chapters outlined and there are still more I need to get to, but probably won’t until I start writing the darn thing lol. 

I wanna start posting some smut oneshots on my secondary pseud, I have some done but I don’t think those will ever see the light of day since they’re just for practice- most of them were thought of on the spot without any outlining. I’d like to keep anything (totally) nsfw separate from my default pseud, just to be organized lol. And yes, this asexual read/writes smut. 😏 (my personal rule is as long as it doesn’t involve me, I’m good!) 

I thought long and hard on this in the past week or so, and originally I thought I’d join the Shrunkyclunks ‘21 Bang but the more I thought about it, the less I wanted to do it. It’d be my first bang, and while I have an idea, it’s just a little intimating to me lol. Soo, I’ll pass this year. Instead, I’m gonna look out for a Bingo whenever a new one starts up, since I’ll prob be more comfortable with that :) 

(Does this short lil Beach!AU count even though it’ll be done in 2020 but will be posted next year?? lolol) 

On my main, I’m writing a Supernatural + Spongebob crossover fic. Sort of like the episode, Scoobynatural. And I have a feeling that it’s gonna be turned into a series because I’m latched onto this idea- that started as a joke. 

Most popular story of the year.

Are we talking hits or kudos?? Hits, Buchanan Medical. Kudos, The Case of Bucky’s Wisdom Teeth. Eitherway, I’m so happy those two made it as my most popular stories. Buchanan Med is close to me on a personal level, and Bucky’s wisdom teeth fic is something I’ve always wanted to read but never existed :3 

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

I think @kalee60​ explained it perfectly when it comes to fics ‘flopping’ (I see this a lot on r/fanfiction) People will see it, they might like it, or won’t like it. And that’s okay! Not everything is for everyone, neither are tropes/genres. I know myself, I’m not a fan of A/B/O and the same could go for someone else who likes my personal favorite genre, hurt/comfort. And sometimes it’s kinda like an age old Tumblr saying: A post that took time and effort can get little as 10 notes but a spur of the moment post can get thousands. (Okay so, I made that up on the spot pffft) 

Most fun story to write.

Buchanan Medical, but Mercury In Retrograde was super fun since I added the whole ‘space puns/pickup lines’ aspect to it. They basically share the same AU, but they’re totally different and that’s why I love them.  

Most unintentionally telling story:

The entire Buchanan Med series. I wanted to explore Steve having asthma in a modern universe (because I too suffer from it- my whole life) and I really, truly, bled a little bit of my personal experience with the disease into the series. Having Bucky there, taking care of/treating Steve? It felt really comforting to me. And hey, write those self comfort fics!!! 

Biggest disappointment.

I hoped to finish the last oneshot of Buchanan Med this year but sadly, my motivation for it just tanked. I write hurt/comfort best when I’m in the right mood for it, and I’m still waiting for it to come back to me, whenever that may be XD. 

Biggest surprise.

The amount of reception I’ve gotten overall, the people I’ve met, the friends I’ve made, and new fandom experiences I’ve gotten to experience myself! Seriously, never in a million years did I think I’ve ever call myself a fanfic writer. But here I am, and I couldn’t be happier <3

~~~

My Sims game finished updating on the fifth question but I kept on rambling because I love taking about my writing!!! It made me realize that wow, I really did do a lot this year when it comes to fanon- especially since it was my first time delving into the world that is fanfiction writing <3 I have many hobbies, video games being the longest one, but I think I’ve spent more time writing/reading than playing games this year. My teenager-self WOULD NEVER believe that! But as the legendary Reggie Fils-Aimesays once said, "If it’s not fun, why bother?” 

I’m gonna tag you guys if you wanna do this! @buckybees​ @justice-for-plums​ @hbalbat​ @its-tortle​ @captainjanegay​ @greyhavensking​ @snarky-drabbles​ @joharvele​ @musette22​ @mysterious-marvel​ 

[farfromharry]

always (part two) | harry holland series

summary: you finally find out why you were feeling so sick and tell Harry everything

word count - 2.5k

warnings - language, mentions of pregnancy

“i missed you so much, where have you been all week, are you okay?” he rambled, overwhelming you with questions. It’d been a week since your breakup with Nate, and a week since you had broken down to Harry on your bathroom floor. You had gone slightly MIA, but Harry has given you your space like he knew you needed.

So when you texted him, asking him to come over out of nowhere, he happily complied, walking into your flat with a loud ‘honey, i’m home.’ The cheesy phrase made you giggle, which you greatly appreciated after a hard week.

You practically threw yourself in his arms when you saw him, leading you to where you were currently.

Harry clinged to you, his arms around your neck and his cheek mushed against yours. This is how he was trying to convince you to come to the pub with him and his friends. His methods didn’t seem to work on you at all, much to his dismay, and yours, because he didn’t tell you he already had plans.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” You nodded your head, turning around to face him with a small smile. You hugged his waist tightly, hiding your face in his chest.

“We can wait for you to get ready.” His eyes were pleading with you, just wanting to spend time with his favourite girl, but you knew he’d understand.

“I still don’t feel good, ‘m sorry.” He nodded, placing a friendly kiss to your forehead.

“s’okay, i understand.”

“maybe another time.” He nodded.

“Am I okay to come here after?” You nodded, flashing him a smile. He thanked you, saying one last goodbye before leaving your flat to go and meet his friends. You sighed loudly when he was out of the door, grabbing your phone off the sofa and pulling up one of your contacts that you knew you could trust with your life.

“hello?” She asked.

“hi um, do you think you could come over, i really need you right now.” You received an ‘of course’ and a promise of her being no longer than 10 minutes. In that short amount of time you did your best to tidy up your living room as best as you could, giving up halfway after realising she wouldn’t care after you told her what was wrong.

A knock on your door startled you, even though you were expecting it, opening it to see Nikki standing there concerned.

“what’s happened hun?” You collapsed into her arms with a cry, her hands coming up to stroke your hair as she tried to calm you down.

Nikki had been like a mum to you ever since you met Harry many years ago. Always helping you with things and secretly rooting for you and Harry to get together; not that she’d tell you both that though.

Nikki instructed you to breathe deeply, the flow of your tears slowly coming to a halt.

“what’s wrong?” You took a deep breath, looking into her eyes as more tears built up.

“i think i’m pregnant.” Even if Nikki was shocked, she tried to hide it for your sake, knowing being calm in this situation would be more comforting.

“you stay here darling, i’ll go buy some tests and we’ll figure this out together.” You thanked her, offering some money that she straight up refused before she left.

Being alone meant you were thinking deeply about your current situation, absolutely scared to death. You were only 21, recently single and had no idea how you mother a child, especially alone. It’s safe to say you were panicking massively.

Thankfully Nikki was back in no time, handing you a bag and tightly clasping your hands in hers.

“so just, go into the bathroom, take a few of these and i’ll wait with you for the results, okay?” You nodded slowly, trying to process all the information at once. You did as she said, taking a few of the tests and setting them on your bathroom counter, letting her in afterwards to sit with you.

You sat on the edge of your bathtub, Nikki’s arm around you while your head rested on her shoulder.

“there’s lots of options if you are pregnant, we can sort this sweetheart.” You nodded, tearing up again.

“i’m so scared.” She placed a kiss on your head, just like Harry had done earlier, stroking your arm to comfort you.

“i know, but it’s all going to be okay.” Those 2 minutes were the scariest minutes of your life. they seemed to last an eternity. When the timer on your phone finally went off you took a deep breath, pushing yourself up and moving over to the counter.

“you got this.” You encouraged yourself. you looked at the test, seeing the two pink lines that made you let out a sob. Nikki came up behind you and pulled you into her arms, glancing at the tests to see what you were crying at, even though she could’ve taken a guess for herself.

She stayed to comfort you for a while, promising she’d leave before Harry arrived so you could tell him in private. She got you a hot drink and a warm blanket, helping you relax on the sofa, wiping any remnants of any tears away.

After Nikki left, you couldn’t force yourself to even get up from the couch, not even to go to the bathroom or put your mug down, sitting and just thinking about everything.

Finally, your door unlocking caught your attention, Harry entering with a smile, walking in a near straight line, which meant he was mostly sober.

“hey.” You hummed in response, watching as he made himself at home, collapsing on the couch next to you.

“how was your night?” He asked, unknowingly. you thought about how to answer, knowing this wasn’t the right way to tell him the news. You’d get there soon enough.

“strange, how was yours?” Harry’s eyes lit up as he threw his arm around you. For the next half an hour he ranted and laughed about the multiple things that had happened with his friends on this ‘crazy’ night out. He reiterated some of the jokes, managing to make you quietly laugh at times, but you nodded along anyway, only partly listening.

“Harry.” he didn’t even notice you had mumbled his name.

“it was hilarious, i wish you’d have come, you wo-“

“i’m pregnant.” The words died off on his tongue. His eyes widened and he looked at you in a mix of confusion and fear.

“what?” He asked, hoping he’d heard you wrong.

“i’m pregnant.” You didn’t even try to hold back this wave of tears, Harry taking the empty mug from you and placing it on the table before letting you bury your face in his hoodie, letting all of your emotions out. He wrapped his arms around you, stroking your back as your heart wrenching sobs filled his ears.

“how?” He asked.

“i-i don’t know, we always used protection.” He grimaced, hating picturing the idea of you having sex with Nate. However, he pushed that to the back of his mind to focus on you in the moment.

“I need to tell him, don’t i?” He shook his head.

“no, if you think it’s best he doesn’t know, then don’t feel like you have to say anything.” He brushed some loose hair behind your ears, wiping your tears with his thumb.

“i know you probably don’t want to, especially not with the way things ended but-“

“he has a right to know.” As much as it pained him, he nodded. You picked up your phone from the coffee table, pulling up the contact you thought you’d never have to dial again.

“should i call him?”

“It's whatever you think is best, I'll give you some privacy.” You thanked him, although you weren’t sure you even wanted him to leave.

“hey.” Harry couldn’t help but feel protective over you after what had happened with Nate, not even a week and a half ago. So even though he knew he probably shouldn’t have, he stood in the doorway of the kitchen, listening just to make sure you were okay.

When Harry re-entered the room a while later, he noticed you sitting in the same position you were in when he left.

“what happened?” You looked up at him and sighed.

“said he’s not ready to be a dad, blamed it all on me pretty much.” Harry scoffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“do i need to beat the shit out of him, cause I will.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“you couldn’t hurt a fly.” He gasped in offense.

“that is not true.” He let you lay your head on his shoulder, throwing some of the fluffy blanket over his lap so the two of you could cuddle together.

“I think you’d be a great mum, you know.” He said, out of nowhere.

“really?” You asked insecurely, receiving a confirming nod. You smiled and nuzzled your cheek deeper into his chest, fighting off sleep so you could finish your conversation.

“how come?” His fingers in your hair paused their movements, a whine of protest coming from you.

“I've seen how you are with Theo, how protective you get over Paddy, it comes naturally to you.”

“that really means a lot, thank you Harry.” Your eyes had teared up at some point in the conversation, your heart warming knowing your favourite person thought you’d succeed in this.

“always.”

—

For the next few days, Harry had been spending time at his family home, wanting to bond with his twin for a little bit after not seeing him for a while. You didn’t mind in the slightest, except you were starting to get lonely, missing your curly headed friend, more than you’d be willing to admit to his face.

So when you received a text Friday night telling you Sam was going out, you instantly took that as an invitation to come over. Although you probably shouldn’t have been so quick to assume, you just missed his freckled face.

So that’s where you ended up, knocking on Harry’s door after 3 or 4 days of not seeing him, as well as the week after your breakup too, knocking on his door.

“i feel like all we’ve said to each other these past few days is i miss you.” He rambled as he opened the door. you thought about it before nodding your head.

“you’re right, but I did miss you though.” You confirmed.

“missed you too.” He kissed your head, letting you follow him to the kitchen where he already had your food for the night set out.

“got you your favourite.”

“you’re an angel, sir.” You sat down across from him.

“with the way you’re eating, you look like the pregnant one.” You joked, taking note of his cramped plate. Harry ended up cracking another joke on top of yours that had you both bursting into laughter.

After the laughter died down there was an uncomfortable silence lingering in the air, one that neither you or Harry were used to when it came to each other. Of course you didn’t want to say anything, worried it was all in your head and you’d offend the male if you said anything.

However, you didn’t have time to ponder that thought for long, Harry practically reading your mind for you.

“this is weird right?” He asked. You nodded.

“why does this feel so awkward?” you asked, Harry's head snapping up and a blush coating his cheeks.

“i-i don’t know how to act around you now you’re pregnant.” He admitted.

“seriously?” You asked with a laugh. Harry’s embarrassment getting worse.

“I'm still me, Harry, just can’t drink alcohol anymore.” Harry took a deep breath and nodded, rising from his chair and heading to his fridge.

“Guess I'll have to drink for both of us then.” He winked and you rolled your eyes, watching him pop open a beer and instantly taking a gulp.

“you’re so mean.”

“What did i do?” He teased, a smirk on his lips.

“rubbing it in that i can’t drink.” You pouted, Harry laughing when glancing at your sad eyes.

“I mean, you came to see me, can’t really complain now.” You rolled your eyes.

“i’m actually only here for paddy.” Harry gasped, feigning offense.

“you don’t mean that.” You heard the front door open, Nikki and Paddy’s voices echoing through the hallway. Paddy practically ran to you when he saw you, wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

“oh, but i do.”

After Paddy had left the kitchen, claiming he was going to play some game with his friends, Nikki made her way over to you, surveying the mess Harry had made while eating and scoffing at her son.

“how have you made such a mess Harry?” Ye looked at his mum sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, being let off with an eye roll.

“and how’s the mother to be?” You smiled at Nikki, accepting her side hug.

“hungry.” You whined, eyeing part of Harry’s food that you’d been dying to try.

“you’ve got enough food to feed four of you Harry, you’re never gonna eat all that, let her have some.” She hit him up the side of the head, making you giggle as he looked almost offended at his mum’s betrayal. He glared at you playfully, ignoring your innocent smile as you stole some of his food off his plate.

“thank you Harry.” You teased. He mimicked you, a snort leaving your mouth that then made Harry laugh loudly. The two of you ate with minimal conversation,a few jokes thrown in here and there. Both of you seeming almost equally as hungry, despite only one of you being pregnant, which you definitely kept teasing your best friend about.

“d’you wanna watch a film?” You shook your head.

“I should be getting home, I have work tomorrow.” Harry pouted, stating that he just wasn’t going to let you leave him.

“i have to go, ‘m sorry.” You kissed his cheek, grabbing your jacket off of the back of your chair.

“just promise we can hang out again soon.”

“we will.”

“I mean really soon, miss.” You nodded.

“of course.” You slipped on your shoes and placed your hand over your belly, out of a new habit you’d developed rather quickly. Harry noticed, smiling at you as you already began proving his point of how good of a mum you’d be.

“thank you for tonight, i really appreciated the distraction.” You said, hugging his waist tightly.

“it’s my pleasure, but at least let me drive you home.” You shook your head, denying his offer.

“I'm fine Harry, I'm pregnant, not dead.” He rolled his eyes.

“I just worry about you.” He whined.

“i know, but i’m a big girl.”

“whatever.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, finally agreeing to let you go.

“goodbye Harry, i love you.” You sang. He shook his head in amusement.

“i love you too, and i’ll see you soon.” You waved before heading to your car, a content feeling in your stomach as you thought about tonight’s events.

“the things you do to me Harry Holland.”

harry holland + always taglist - @euphorichxlland @theliterarymess @drie-the-derp @sunkisseddreamer @call-me-baby-gir1 @fallinfortom @hollandbroz-n-haz @hopelessly-harry @icyhollands @iwearheadphones @thevelvetseries @minejungwoo

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Ten

Summary: you finally get to visit the boys at the embassy. You and Javier finally get to consummate the relationship.

W/C: 6k+ (I’m sorry it’s the FINALE I had to)

Warnings: language as always, mentions of injury, SMUT! (18+ only), oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation if you squint, p in v sex, Javier Peña is his own warning when it comes to sex

A/N: YOU GUYS. this is it! I’m so honored that you guys love it as much as you do. This series was originally only supposed to be a oneshot but I just fell in love. I’m so glad I get to share it with you all! BIGGEST thanks to @remmysbounty for being my Colombian culture expert in this and helping me with my spanish phrases, listening to my ramblings, and generally being my editor and idea helper.

previous chapter | epilogue

“Ana, phone for you,” Lorena calls as you walk past the nurses’ station.

You nod, but you’re carrying a tray of medicine for a patient. “Can it wait?” You ask.

Lorena asks the person and then looks back up at you. “He says it’s quick.”

Sighing, you walk behind the desk. “Will you take this tray for me? Room 429,” you ask, and she nods dutifully, walking off with it after handing the phone to you. You answer the phone with your name, sitting in the chair Lorena was just in.

“Hey, it’s Steve,” a familiar southern voice says from the other end. You panic for a moment, wondering why he called you, but his voice seems relaxed. It can’t be anything too bad.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask, twirling the phone cord around your finger, leaning forward with your elbows on the desk.

Steve chuckles. “Not much. Just Javi bein’ a dumb fuck.”

“What’s new?” You sigh, but you both know that both of you have affection behind your teasing.

“Exactly,” Steve says in agreement. “Anyway, Javi’s back at work, as you know. The bandage he has is falling off, and he says it’s fine but I know enough from Connie to know that’s not good. She said you get off work soon, would you bring some stuff to the embassy?”

You look at the watch at your wrist. He’s right. You get off at noon, and it’s about 10 right now. “Yeah, of course. Could I bring you guys lunch too? Eat with you?”

There’s a small snort from the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah, that sounds great. Listen, though, there’s some real shitty guys around here. You’re gonna get hit on and Peña isn’t gonna be happy about it.”

“I’ll be wearing scrubs, Steve. What is there to talk about?” You ask dryly, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Lonely and horny men desperate for an American woman aren’t above much. Just… lettin’ you know now.”

“I think I can handle it,” you roll your eyes, knowing he can hear it in your tone. “I’ll be there at 12:30 with lunch and supplies for Javi, alright?”

“Sounds good to me. Thank you, kid.”

“I’m, like, a few years younger than you. You act like you’re my dad.”

“Whatever,” he laughs and hangs up the phone.

-

After your shift, you enter Valeria’s diner. Her eyes light up as she sees you, rushing your way. “¡Ay, mi hermosita! ¿Quiubo, chiquita?” She asks, grabbing your arms.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell her genuinely with a smile. “I didn’t know if… the bombing, if it affected you. I’m so glad it didn’t.”

“And me with you! Especially that Javier, dios mio,” she shakes her head.

“Actually...” you chuckle a little. It’s a nervous laugh, afraid to tell her what happened. “Javi was injured. He and his partner were very near the bomb. He’s okay now, but he lost a lot of blood and had to have emergency surgery. He’s got a big scar here,” you tell her and trace along your abdomen where his injury was. “He’s back at work already, but he spent a few days in the hospital and about a week or two at home.”

Valeria frowns. “Oh no. I’m glad he‘s alright now. I worried so much about him, but I figured he lived since there were no American casualties.”

You nod. “Exactly. I’m actually on my way to the embassy now, bringing him some bandages, and I wanted to pick up lunch for him and his partner.”

The woman claps her hands together excitedly. “And here I am, blabbering on! I’ll go get an order in for you. What would you like, dear?”

You put in an order that you figure Javi and Steve would both like, waiting contently at a booth Valeria seats you at and sipping a coffee she brought to you.

The little restaurant makes you smile as you think about the memories. Laughing with Javier for hours in the early morning, sharing life stories and experiences. You realize now that you think you loved Javier even then, on the night when you sat a few booths over, wrapped in his leather jacket while his mustache collected little grains of sugar and cinnamon.

Not long after, Valeria comes to your table with two large bags of food. “I couldn’t help myself- I threw a few extra desserts and snacks in. Javier needs to eat more, tell him that I said that and that’s why there’s so much.”

You laugh happily and stand. “Well, thank you. I’ll make sure to pass the message along.”

She takes your payment and hands you a large to-go cup of coffee- you deserve it after such a long shift, she tells you- before sending you on your way. The embassy is a distance away, and you hail a taxi to make your way there. The car fills with the scent of the fresh food, making your stomach rumble. When you arrive, you pay the driver and head inside.

A receptionist sits just inside. “May I help you?” She asks politely and without much interest.

“Uh….” you hadn’t expected this step. “Yes. I’m here for Agents Murphy and Peña?”

She nods, grabbing the phone. She dials a number and talks, making a face of annoyance as she switches to speaking English. She must’ve dialed Steve. She hangs up not long after. “Murphy will be here in a moment,” she tells you with a nod, and you back away to allow the next person to talk with her.

Steve finds you about a minute later. “Hey. That’s a lot of food,” he chuckles as he looks at the large bags you’re carrying.

“I went to Javier’s favorite place. This one waitress there absolutely adores him, so she gave me extra because he doesn’t eat enough,” you inform him with a smile. “She even threw in some free desserts.”

“Jesus. We could feed the whole embassy with those,” he shakes his head, taking one from you to lighten your load.

You walk through hallways and several sets of stairs, before entering the office area and finally reaching the two desks, one messy and one neat. Javier sits at the cluttered one, looking up and eyes lighting as he sees you. “Hey,” he laughs and even dares to smile: a rare sight when he’s at work. “What are you doing here?” He asks, rolling his chair back from his desk and taking your hand.

“Steve said you needed bandages,” you shrug and hold up one of the bags.

He gives him a dirty look and the blonde man simply shrugs, sitting at his own desk.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. What’s all this then?” He asks, referring to the bags you and Steve carry.

You set one on a free space in his desk and untie the top of the bag, setting a takeout container in front of him. “Lunch,” you say simply, opening the styrofoam to release a drift of a delicious smell.

Javier sighs at the scent. “Did you see Valeria then? Is that why there’s so much food?” He asks with a little laugh.

You nod. “Exactly.”

Javier sighs and grabs a fork from the bag. “Here,” he says, pulling you to sit on one of his thighs. You squeal at the movement, laughing and grabbing the desk once you’re seated.

“At least warn me, huh?” You laugh and he steals a quick kiss from you, earning a whistle from a man who walks past.

“Wow, Peña has moved on from fucking the informants,” the man chuckles. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

You both glare at him, though he finds yours more intimidating than Javier’s. “Mm, we’re projecting our sexual frustration, are we?” You ask, taking a bite of food in your mouth with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry about us, run on home to the wife who doesn’t want your dick anywhere near her,” you say with a sweet smile, turning back to Javier’s desk and sipping your coffee.

The man walks away with wide eyes and Murphy laughs genuinely. “Holy shit,” he shakes his head and smiles.

“What? It’s clearly true,” you chuckle, looking back at Javier and taking another bite of the food in front of you. He’s got his heart in his eyes, barely managing to hold back a grin.

“I fucking love you,” Javi laughs contently, waiting you to finish chewing. When you do, he kisses you passionately for a moment, releasing you a few seconds later.

“You got some observational skills, kid,” Steve snorts and shoves a bite of food in his face. “We should get you working here.”

You roll your eyes. “What is your thing with calling everyone kid, Murphy?” Javier laughs, and you nod enthusiastically. You were just about to ask the same thing.

Steve opens his mouth to answer but the phone on Javier’s desk rings. “Peña.” He makes several noises of agreement before hanging up a few moments later. “Trujillo needs something. Be right back,” he tells the both of you and presses a kiss to your head. You stand to allow him to, and he kisses your lips quickly before speed-walking up the steps from the bullpen area and out to somewhere else.

You sit back down and both you and Steve continue eating your food. A minute or so later, a woman walks past but stops as she sees you. “Oh my God, Steve, is this Connie?” she asks, leaning against his desk.

“No, this is Peña’s girlfriend. She and Connie work together,” he informs her. Her face sours at the word girlfriend.

You tell the woman your name and shake her hand with a smile. “Peña has a girlfriend? My god,” she laughs lightly. Javier walks back down to his desk and the woman’s eyes light up. You stand so he can sit again. “Javier Peña, all settled down.”

“I don’t know about that,” he chuckles and sits, pulling you back onto his lap. You squeal again at the sudden movement, more so for the amusement of the woman in front of you. Laughing, you steady yourself on his desk. “Javi, warm a girl!” You chuckle, turning around to kiss him quickly. You’d discovered recently that you couldn’t get enough of it now that you were allowed to do it.

The woman shakes her head and chuckles as she walks away, heels clacking on the tile floor of the embassy.

Steve rolls her eyes. “Ah, Carolina. Last woman at the embassy Javi hasn’t fucked, and she’s been going after him for months.”

“Bullshit,” you and Javier say at the same time, laughing and turning around to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Bullshit to the fact that she’s the last woman here I haven’t fucked. Yeah, she’s been all over me,” he admits and nods.

“Well that’s too damn bad for her, isn’t it?” You laugh and offer Javier your cup of coffee.

He takes a swig and sighs. “Goddamn, this stuff tastes good. The coffee here is shit. We really need to do something about that,” he says to Steve, earning a shrug in response as he forks more food into his mouth.

The three of you eat in content silence, Javier keeping one arm wrapped around you as he eats. Steve flips through a file as he munches on his food too.

A couple of minutes later, a stone-faced bald man in army green fatigues walks. He raises an eyebrow as he sees you sitting on Javier’s lap.

You bite the bullet and introduce yourself first, telling him your name and offering a hand to shake. “Javier’s girlfriend.”

Javier chuckles at the man’s confused expression. “Yeah. Ángel, this is Trujillo. We work closely with him and his men. What else do you need?” He asks the man, turning the chair toward him.

“It can wait, I suppose, until after lunch. Wonderful to meet you, ma’am,” Trujillo says before walking off.

Javier shakes his head. “Now I see why the two of you can’t get shit done around here,” you tease and kiss the side of Javi’s head with a smile before taking the last bite of your food.

Not long after, the two men finish eating too. You stand from Javi’s desk. “Walk me out?” You ask him softly, and he nods. “I’ll see you later, Steve. Thanks for the invite,” you chuckle, taking Javier’s hand once you’re both standing.

As you walk through the halls, Javier is smiling. It’s a rare occurrence around the embassy, enough to draw stares. You smile proudly, lacing your fingers together as you walk. “So, Superman. I have a proposal,” you offer, looking up at him with big eyes.

“Shoot.”

“You get off work around six?”

“Sure do.”

“And I don’t work tonight.”

Javier chuckles as he looks down at you. “Where is this going, hm?”

You shrug a little. “All I hear about is how good you are in bed. How good of a lover you are,” you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. “Why don’t you prove it to me tonight, hm?” You ask, fingers tracing the seam where his buttons hold his tight shirt together- just barely.

“Oh god, cariño,” he murmurs. “I don’t know if my body is up to it yet, with the incision and-“

“I’m a nurse, Javi. Your nurse. I know medically that you’re stable by now. As long as it isn’t painful for you, we’re safe,” you tell him with a growing smile. “It’s been a while for you, hasn’t it?” You ask in a low voice, your hand sliding across the bare ‘v’ of his chest, exposed by his low-cut shirt.

“Yeah, it has.” Javier licks his lips as he looks down at you, a growing smile. “Your place. Sound good?”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” you admit with an excited grin, placing a kiss to his cheek as you reach the door. “You bring the protection,” you murmur next to his ear before kissing him softly on the lips. You break away and smile at his dazed face. “I’ll see you tonight. I love you,” You tell him and squeeze his hand.

“Fuck, I love you too, ángel,” Javi smiles and kisses your forehead, opening the door for you. “See you then.”

-

Six o’clock rolls around. You know Javier won’t come right from work, but you wait excitedly anyway. You treated yourself to a long hot shower, cleaning up and waiting. You’re dressed in a wrap dress and nothing else, waiting on the couch and trying to distract yourself with reruns of a telenovela. A bottle of whiskey and two glasses sit on your counter.

Surprisingly, a knock comes at your door around 6:15. You shout for them to enter and it’s Javier. “I thought you didn’t get off until 6:00,” you smirk a little as you look at him, closing the door behind himself.

“Steve covered for me. I left at 5, went home and showered, changed bandages and everything,” he chuckles, locking the door.

You smile and stand, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “How kind of him,” you chuckle softly, an arm around his waist. “Listen, I thought about it. If you’re still in pain, this can totally wait,” you offer, looking up at him with big and concerned eyes.

“I’ve wanted this from the moment I met you, ángel,” he murmurs, putting both hands on your waist. “Nothing could hold me back now.”

You throw your arms around his neck as Javier’s lips crash against yours, in a deep kiss that wastes no time. You make a soft noise of content against his lips and that spurs him on, his hands roaming all across your body. He breaks away, eyes wild and lips swollen already. “How many times have you cum in one night?” He asks, smirking.

You can’t help but moan in response, kissing him again deeply, your mouth exploring his. He breaks away again. “Answer.”

“Uh… three. On my own. Only once with someone else,” you tell him breathlessly, your brain so wrapped up in him that it’s difficult to think about anything other than him.

“Alright, then four’s the goal,” he chuckles, kissing you deeply and pulling your hips against his. His hands grope your ass and you moan softly.

It’s already the best you’ve ever had and he hasn’t even touched you. The passion and love you have for each other is evident in how deep and intense every little movement is, from the way you drag your nails down the back of his neck to the way he smooths his hands over the curve of your ass, feeling no panties beneath the dress. “Fuck,” he murmurs into your lips.

“My bedroom, please,” you whine, breaking away from him.

He nods, glancing in the direction of the hallway that leads to your room. He catches sight of the bottle of whiskey. “What was that for?” He asks, breathlessly chuckling.

“Confidence,” you admit with a laugh. “Don’t know why I thought I needed it. Not with you.”

“Well, it’ll go perfectly with cuddling in your bed after, hm?” He murmurs, kissing behind your ear. You sigh softly at the feeling and he walks you along to your bedroom, backwards, until you feel the backs of your legs pressed against your bed. “Let’s see what’s under here,” he mumbles breathlessly, kissing at your neck as he frantically fumbles to untie the knot around your waist that holds the wrap dress in place. He’s clearly experienced at removing all kinds of clothing, and you can feel your arousal starting to slide down to your upper thighs.

“Javi,” you whimper, and he swears he’s never heard anything sweeter.

“Oh fuck, dulzura,” he shudders at the way you sound, lifting his head and catching your lips in another intense kiss as he slips the dress off of your shoulders and it falls to the floor. “No bra, no panties,” he chuckles as he looks down, finding your exposed body. “Let’s begin, shall we?” He mumbles, his lips trailing from behind your ear to your neck to your collarbone to between your breasts.

“Please,” you whimper and Javier pushes you to lie down on the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees and spreading your legs. “Javi,” you mumble, gripping your breasts.

He looks up at you and swears he could cum in his pants right now, just from the way you look spread out for him. You’re already dripping and he bites his lip as he takes a long look at you. “Fuck, ángel,” he says with a shudder, unbuttoning his shirt quickly. “Play with your tits for me,” he commands as he slips the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his toned chest and the large gauze bandage covering part of his equally muscular abdomen.

You nod, though it doesn’t do much at this angle, and he finally gives in. His last bit of self control leaves his body as he licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, moaning into you at the way you taste. You whimper and your hips squirm softly before Javier brings a large hand up, pinning you down. “Javi… go slow, please,” you murmur. “It’s… been a while.”

He nods. “I’ll do anything you tell me to,” he breathes out, dark eyes even darker with his widened pupils. He’s just as entranced by you as he was by those heavy drugs in the hospital, his mind foggy from the way you taste. His nose nudges at your clit, causing you to make a soft noise. Javier slips a thick finger inside of you, shuddering at the way your walls flutter around it. “God, that’s gonna feel so good around my dick,” he mumbles, slipping in a second finger and lapping at your clit.

“Fuck,” you whimper as he curves his fingers inside of you, one hand sliding into that dark hair, gripping it. “I lied. You don’t have to go slow, do whatever you want to me,” you shiver and whine out, bucking your hips up only for Javier’s hand to push them back down.

“Patience,” he mumbles, latching onto your most sensitive spot and sucking on it softly. His fingers push in a little deeper and curve against a spot you’ve never been able to reach yourself, wishing you had him to do it. You knew he would, with his reputation. Of course he would. He already feels like he knows every inch of your body, every sensitive little spot he can stroke to drive you wild. You squeal softly at the movement, your back arching. He smirks but continues, not bothering to stop and comment.

You’re already close, and it’s driving you wild, the other hand clutching at the comforter beneath you. “Not gonna last. Feels so good,” you murmur to him, almost ashamed at how quickly he’s going to make you reach your peak.

“Yeah? Tell me about it,” he mumbles into you, his eyes closing in concentration as his tongue works hard against your clit.

“Thought about this all the time. My fingers couldn’t get anywhere near as deep as yours, Javi,” you coo, brow furrowing. “Just wanted you inside of me, doing this to me. I thought about it every night since I met you,” you whimper. “Nowhere near as good- fuck, I’m about to-” you groan but it’s cut off as your orgasm washes over you, making your legs shake and your thighs clench around his head.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the word tumbles from your mouth over and over again as it washes over you. After you come down, there’s a delicious oversensitivity inside of you. Javier doesn’t let up. “Javi,” you murmur softly.

“Gonna get another out of you, ángel,” he murmurs for a moment before going back with renewed intensity. You thought it was perfect before, but the way he continues now allows you to feel every bud on his tongue, every line in his fingerprints inside of you, the way his fingers move at slightly different speeds as they drag against that spot deep inside of you.

Only a few moments pass before you’re there again, whining out his name as you feel something warm gush from deep within you. It’s all too good, all too much, feels like an electric wire threaded through your limbs and core. “Javi,” you shudder as you finally come to your senses. “I- uh, did I just-” you say, eyes widening as you see the damp spot beneath you.

“You sure fucking did,” he smirks, removing his fingers from inside of you and sucking on the two slick digits.

“I’ve never done that,” you admit, biting your lip.

“It means I’m doing something right,” he chuckles a little, sitting up to kiss you softly, slowly. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes you moan as his tongue probes your mouth ever so gently. “It’s all good, baby. Wanna see if I can make you do that again?” He asks, a cocky grin on his face. “You were promised four.”

You shudder softly, hands on his shoulders. “I was,” you chuckle with the little oxygen left in your lungs. “What do you say…” you trail off, reaching between the two of you and palming at his denim-covered erection, “I take care of you, you get one more out of me, and then we finally fuck, hm?” you ask, recovering your senses.

“How could I say no to that?” he murmurs, kissing you deeply again. You squeeze softly at the bulge, and he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. “How- I, what do-”

“Lie down up there,” you tell him and nod toward the pillows. When you stand, you tear the comforter off of your bed and toss it aside. “We’ll just have to sleep without that tonight.” He raises an eyebrow. “You are staying the night, right?” You ask, suddenly taken aback.

He nods quickly. “Yeah, yeah.” He pushes down his jeans and boxers and his dick springs free. He’s huge, not overly long but very thick, and you bite down on your lip to hold back a smirk. “Oh, you like this?” he chuckles a little, lying down with his arms above his head.

“Fuck,” you laugh softly, already imagining how he’ll feel inside. “Yeah, I do,” you nod and crawl onto the bed, lying down on your stomach between his spread legs.

You slowly trace a stripe along the underside of him, paying special attention to the frenulum and noticing the way his leg jerks beneath you. Adjusting yourself, you make big eyes up at him as you suck on the head, tracing the tip of your tongue against the little spot. “Fuck, you’re gonna have me cumming in seconds,” he laughs breathlessly. “You’re fucking amazing, baby,” he mumbles, his eyes slipping shut at the feeling. “Wait, stop, stop.”

You do exactly that, looking up at him with wide questioning eyes. “Yeah?”

Javier takes a deep breath and smirks. “You can make me cum with your mouth another time. I want this to be about you. Get up here and sit on my face.”

The boldness of his words makes your mouth fall open into a soft o-shape. You’ve certainly never done that before, but the idea is interesting. “It’ll be good, I promise. I already made you cum twice with my mouth, you know that,” he chuckles, stroking the side of your face.

“But…” Javier is much more experienced than you, you know that, so it must be fine, but there’s a little nagging insecurity inside of you. “What if I squirt again and, like, drown you?” you ask shyly.

Javier looks at you for a second before laughing softly. “No, it won’t. Come here, I can prove it to you if you’d like,” he offers, pushing a wisp of your hair back. The fact that you’re less experienced makes him even harder, if that’s physically possible, and you can feel it in your hand. He wants to do this, and that reassures you. You gulp and nod. “That’s my good girl,” Javi mumbles darkly.

You shudder at his words, your skin prickling. He can feel it. “Oh, you like that,” he murmurs. He scoots to lie flat on his back on the bed. “Come on up here, baby,” he says softly, and you agree.

You straddle his legs and gradually make your way over his body, careful to lift your hips as you pass over the incision. You’re hovering above his chest, looking down at him with the question in your eyes. “What if I like, crush your head?” You murmur and bite your lip.

“If you don’t want to, we won’t,” he mumbles, stroking your thigh. “Do you want to?” he asks.

“Yes,” you nod shyly. You’re not used to being this open about your wants.

“Then let me take care of you,” he murmurs, hands on your hips and pulling you gently. Inviting you onto his waiting lips.

You slide your hips the rest of the way and moan as his tongue finds your clit almost immediately. He moans back, entranced by you already. He puts on a bit more of a show, making loud noises and digging his fingers into your ass. He murmurs something into you but it’s lost in your folds as he lavishes your clit with his attention.

“Okay, I like this,” you admit with a breathless chuckle, moaning at the way his tongue works against you, his mustache tickles you, his nose nudges your clit when his tongue is elsewhere. You’re still hyper-sensitive from earlier, and you can tell. Your orgasm approaches rapidly, faster than it has ever before. You fall slightly forward, bracing yourself against the headboard as the tingling sensation builds.

“Gonna cum,” you warn him, panting heavily, your hands gripping the headboard tight. He makes a noise of approval and the vibrations from it cause you to let go, practically wailing his name. Your toes curl in pleasure, whimpering as it pulses through your body. It leaks from you before you can notice it, squirting into Javier’s mouth. He swallows every last bit of it, moaning at the way you taste.

Javier’s been so patient with you, putting everything about you first. He continues to eat you out as you come down from it. Eventually, you lift your hips, kneeling with your still-dripping pussy over his face. “You gonna fuck me now?” you ask, barely any air in your voice.

“Oh God yeah,” he chuckles, pressing one last kiss to your clit before pushing you over to lie next to him.

“Javi!” You squeal out with a laugh, falling next to him, his face by your legs. You’re giggling as you look over at him, hands on your bare stomach. “What if I would’ve landed on you and hit the incision?” you chide, though you both know it’s joking.

“It’d be worth it,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee. He stands with a groan, cracking his neck and grabbing the condom from the pocket of his jeans. He opens it and rolls it over his leaking dick, and you smirk as you look at it, adjusting yourself back where he was lying.

“You sure this’ll be okay with the abs?” you ask him as he walks back to your side, your fingers ghosting over the gauze-covered incision.

He nods. “Yeah. You ready?” He asks, a hand cupping your face to look up at him.

“I’m waiting on the fourth,” you tease, giving his dick a gentle tug and earning a groan. “Now get on top of me and fuck me, Superman,” you say with a seductive smile, licking your lips.

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbles softly, propping his arms up on either side of you and nestling his hips between your legs. You can feel his dick pressing against your folds, and you grind your hips up into his. He moans, shivering hard. “Oh fuck. You better know it’s not gonna take long,” he tells you. “Fuckin’ dreamed about this for so long. First time I saw those tits bouncing on the treadmill, your ass when you were doing those squats,” he admits, hand running up your side and pinching a nipple as he finally admires your bare body beneath him.

“Get poetic later, get inside me now,” you beg of him, leaning up and kissing him deeply. He paws at a tit and you whine into his lips, harder when he rolls a nipple between two fingers. “Don’t tease,” you plead, spreading your legs wider.

He finally slides in and swears he’s seeing stars from the second the head is past your entrance. He groans out before he can stop himself, and you involuntarily make a matching sound. “Javier,” you cry, the way he stretches you making your already dripping pussy even wetter.

He nods. “Yeah baby,” he mumbles next to your ear.

“Start moving, I’m ready, come on,” you urge, nipping at his earlobe that dangles just above your lips. He shivers at the feeling and nods, pulling out and pushing back in. The first thrust and he’s already holding back.

He moans your name quietly, starting a slow but steady rhythm, pounding in and out of you. He looks down and bites his lip as he sees the way your tits jiggle with his thrusts. “Oh, ángel,” he groans. You bend up and kiss at his neck, daring to work a mark into the skin. “Yeah, that’s my girl, marking me up. Want that girl at the embassy to see it when I’m at work tomorrow, don’t you?” he grunts, breathing heavily already.

“All mine, no one else’s.”

“All yours, baby,” he nods, thrusting harder. “Give ‘em something to talk about, mark me up,” he groans, his eyes almost rolling back in his head from the feeling. You nod, leaving love bites and hickeys all over the smooth skin of his neck, the skin that smells like aftershave and soap and cigarettes and his sweat.

He reaches a hand between the two of you and rubs circles into your clit in time with the thrusts. “Oh, fuck do I love you, baby,” he groans. “You gonna come again?”

You’re embarrassingly close already, and the fact that he can tell is even hotter. “Yeah,” you whine into the thick column of his neck.

“Good girl, gonna squirt around me?”

“Yeah,” you whimper again, hips grinding against his hand. “Love you so much, Javi.”

“Love you too. Go for it, baby. Do it,” he asks of you, and who are you to deny him of the sensation in the moment? You stop holding back, your walls fluttering around him and your pussy leaking as your whole body tenses.

“Javi,” you cry into his ear, clinging to the back of his head and pulling him down to where you’re now lying flat, limp as a rag doll from his ministrations.

“That’s my girl,” he coos in his gravelly voice, biting down on his lip. “So good, fuck, love you baby,” he grunts in time with sporadic thrusts as he finally spills into the condom, an animalistic cry coming from his throat.

His thrusts slow and he gradually pulls out of you, lying down and pulling you into his side. “Would you believe me if I said that’s the best I’ve ever had?” He pants out, kissing the side of your head.

You drape an arm across him. “It’d be an honor,” you chuckle softly.

“It was,” he tells you honestly, this time kissing your lips. “God, I fucking love you,” he tells you with a dazed smile, eyes slipping shut.

He’s so sexy like this, sweat beaded on his forehead and dark hair stuck to it. He’s fucking beautiful is what he is, like a work of art with those swollen lips and the developing bruises on his neck. He’s your personal masterpiece. You’ve done all of those things to him, made him fill that condom, hell, you put those stitches in yourself before he left the hospital. He’s fully and truly yours. “I love you too, Javi,” you tell him, pressing your lips together in a smile as your eyes water.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks quickly as his eyes open.

“I just love you so much,” you admit with a watery voice. “That was the best I’ve ever felt, and you let me ask stupid questions, and you did this all even though I thought you were gonna bleed out in my arms a couple of weeks ago.” You bury your face where his chest meets his arm, the tears freely running.

“Ángel,” he coos and kisses your head. “You are the entire world, you know that? You saved my fucking life, not just from the shrapnel. I would’ve drank and smoked and worked myself to death if you didn’t come in.”

“And I would’ve died from that cold,” you add with a weak giggle.

“And you would’ve died from that cold,” he chuckles and lifts your head. “I love you so much. No solo como te quiero, como te amo.”

There’s a difference in the way Spanish speakers say “I love you” that native English speakers cannot understand. We say I love you to our dogs, to our partners, to our sisters and parents and to our lovers and spouses. It’s all the same way to say it: I love you. In Spanish, there is te quiero and te amo. Javier might say te quiero to his father, to Connie when she brings him food during a rough hangover. Never in his life has the man said te amo and meant it. Not to Lorraine, not to any girl he ever held in his arms as he pounded her senseless. Never, except to you.

And you can feel it in the way he presses a tender kiss to your face, in the way a tear drips from his eye and onto your forehead. He loves you in the way that inspired the greatest artists to write sonnets and plays and make beautiful art, the way that Escobar would do anything, would kill for his beloved Tata, the way Romeo and Juliet loved and fell hard and didn’t care about the repercussions and died for love of each other.

“Javi,” you coo, looking into his big brown eyes that are brimming with tears. “Te amo también, te amo, y nunca lo olvides.”

thanks for reading!

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translations:

quiubo- what’s happening, what’s up

Chiquita- girl, girlfriend

dulzura- sweetheart

Y nunca lo olvides- and don’t you ever forget it.

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