#best cat harness

[the-adventures-of-dave]

Rain or shine, Dave’s outside!

[woodsy-hoe]

the way her eyes match the leaves bro

[tellmegoodbye]

So this is where Wags will be riding out the hurricane

[zaidepersonal]

btw look at my lock & home screens. my cats are so stupid i love them

[theblehthatbloos]

"Toby Maguire... you don't have to try to trip me every time I flirt a little bit with someone like im an At-At. I still love you dawg, but please."

[celistail]

Get the Favorite Dog Harness, Collar, Leash and Bowls – CÉLISTAIL

Shop for items that make your dog happy, including beautiful dog collar, unique dog collar, fancy dog collar, bulldog harness, frenchie harness, leather dog harness, leather dog leash, best dog leash for pulling, ceramic dog bowls, and ceramic cat bowl. Order now and get the Gift!

[shaggy-dawg]

Elevate your pet's style with designer pet accessories that combine elegance and functionality. From chic collars and leashes to plush beds and personalized outfits, luxury pet accessories offer a touch of sophistication for your furry friend. Perfect for pampered pets and fashion-forward owners, these high-quality items ensure comfort while making a statement. Upgrade your pet's look today and let them strut in style!

[insipid-drivel]

Horses: Since There Seems To Be A Knowledge Gap

I'm going to go ahead and preface this with: I comment pretty regularly on clips and photos featuring horses and horseback riding, often answering questions or providing explanations for how or why certain things are done. I was a stable hand and barrel racer growing up, and during my 11 year tenure on tumblr, Professional Horse Commentary is a very niche, yet very necessary, subject that needs filling. Here are some of the literary and creative gaps I've noticed in well meaning (and very good!) creators trying to portray horses and riding realistically that... well, most of you don't seem to even be aware of, because you wouldn't know unless you worked with horses directly!

Some Of The Most Common Horse + Riding Mistakes I See:

-Anybody can ride any horse if you hold on tight enough/have ridden once before.

Nope. No, no, no, no, aaaaaaaand, no. Horseback riding has, historically, been treated as a life skill taught from surprisingly young ages. It wasn't unusual in the pre-vehicular eras to start teaching children as young as 4 to begin to ride, because horses don't come with airbags, and every horse is different. For most adults, it can take months or years of regular lessons to learn to ride well in the saddle, and that's just riding; not working or practicing a sport.

Furthermore, horses often reject riders they don't know. Unless a horse has been trained like a teaching horse, which is taught to tolerate riders of all skill and experience levels, it will take extreme issue with having some random person try to climb on their back. Royalty, nobility, and the knighted classes are commonly associated with the "having a favorite special horse" trope, because it's true! Just like you can have a particularly special bond with a pet or service animal that verges on parental, the same can apply with horses. Happy horses love their owners/riders, and will straight-up do their best to murder anyone that tries to ride them without permission.

-Horses are stupid/have no personality.

There isn't a more dangerous assumption to make than assuming a horse is stupid. Every horse has a unique personality, with traits that can be consistent between breeds (again, like cat and dog breeds often have distinct behavior traits associated with them), but those traits manifest differently from animal to animal.

My mother had an Arabian horse, Zipper, that hated being kicked as a signal to gallop. One day, her mom and stepdad had a particularly unpleasant visitor; an older gentleman that insisted on riding Zipper, but refused to listen to my mother's warnings never to kick him. "Kicking" constitutes hitting the horse's side(s) with your heels, whether you have spurs on or not. Most horses only need a gentle squeeze to know what you want them to do.

Anyway, Zipper made eye-contact with my mom, asking for permission. He understood what she meant when she nodded at him. He proceeded to give this asshole of a rider road rash on the side of the paddock fence and sent him to the emergency room. He wouldn't have done it if he didn't have the permission from the rider he respected, and was intelligent enough to ask, "mind if I teach this guy a lesson?" with his eyes, and understand, "Go for it, buddy," from my mom in return.

-Riding bareback is possible to do if you hold onto the horse's mane really tight.

Riding a horse bareback (with no saddle, stirrups, or traditional harness around the horse's head) is unbelievably difficult to learn, particularly have testicles and value keeping them. Even professional riders and equestrians find ourselves relying on tack (the stuff you put on a horse to ride it) to stay stable on our horses, even if we've been riding that particular horse for years and have a very positive, trusting relationship.

Horses sweat like people do. The more they run, the more their hair saturates with sweat and makes staying seated on them slippery. Hell, an overworked horse can sweat so heavily that the saddle slips off its back. It's also essential to brush and bathe a horse before it's ridden in order to keep it healthier, so their hair is often quite slick from either being very clean or very damp. In order to ride like that, you have to develop the ability to synchronize your entire body's rhythm's with the rhythm of the horse's body beneath you, and quite literally move as one. Without stirrups, most people can't do it, and some people can never master bareback riding no matter how many years they spend trying to learn.

-You can be distracted and make casual conversation while a horse is standing untethered in the middle of a barn or field.

At every barn I've ever worked at, it's been standard practice with every single horse, regardless of age or temperament, to secure their heads while they're being tacked up or tacked down. The secures for doing this are simple ropes with clips that are designed to attach to the horse's halter (the headwear for a horse that isn't being ridden; they have no bit that goes in the horse's mouth, and no reins for a rider to hold) on metal O rings on either side of the horse's head. This is not distressing to the horse, because we give them plenty of slack to turn their heads and look around comfortably.

The problem with trying to tack up an unrestrained horse while chatting with fellow stable hands or riders is that horses know when you're distracted! And they often try to get away with stuff when they know you're not looking! In a barn, a horse often knows where the food is stored, and will often try to tiptoe off to sneak into the feed room.

Horses that get into the feed room are often at a high risk of dying. While extremely intelligent, they don't have the ability to throw up, and they don't have the ability to tell that their stomach is full and should stop eating. Allowing a horse into a feed/grain room WILL allow it to eat itself to death.

Other common woes stable hands and riders deal with when trying to handle a horse with an unrestrained head is getting bitten! Horses express affection between members of their own herd, and those they consider friends and family, through nibbling and surprisingly rough biting. It's not called "horseplay" for nothing, because during my years working with horses out in the pasture, it wasn't uncommon at all for me to find individuals with bloody bite marks on their withers (that high part on the middle of the back of their shoulders most people instinctively reach for when they try to get up), and on their backsides. I've been love-bitten by horses before, and while flattering, they hurt like hell on fleshy human skin.

So, for the safety of the horse, and everybody else, always make a show of somehow controlling the animal's head when hands-on and on the ground with them.

-Big Horse = War Horse

Startlingly, the opposite is usually the case! Draft and carriage horses, like Percherons and Friesians, were never meant to be used in warfare. Draft horses are usually bred to be extremely even-tempered, hard to spook, and trustworthy around small children and animals. Historically, they're the tractors of the farm if you could afford to upgrade from oxen, and were never built to be fast or agile in a battlefield situation.

More importantly, just because a horse is imposing and huge doesn't make it a good candidate for carrying heavy weights. A real thing that I had to be part of enforcing when I worked at a teaching ranch was a weight limit. Yeah, it felt shitty to tell people they couldn't ride because we didn't have any horses strong enough to carry them due to their weight, but it's a matter of the animal's safety. A big/tall/chonky horse is more likely to be built to pull heavy loads, but not carry them flat on their spines. Horses' muscular power is predominantly in their ability to run and pull things, and too heavy a rider can literally break a horse's spine and force us to euthanize it.

Some of the best war horses out there are from the "hot blood" family. Hot blooded horses are often from dry, hot, arid climates, are very small and slight (such as Arabian horses), and are notoriously fickle and flighty. They're also a lot more likely to paw/bite/kick when spooked, and have even sometimes been historically trained to fight alongside their rider if their rider is dismounted in combat; kicking and rearing to keep other soldiers at a distance.

-Any horse can be ridden if it likes you enough.

Just like it can take a lifetime to learn to ride easily, it can take a lifetime of training for a horse to comfortably take to being ridden or taking part in a job, like pulling a carriage. Much like service animals, horses are typically trained from extremely young ages to be reared into the job that's given to them, and an adult horse with no experience carrying a rider is going to be just as scared as a rider who's never actually ridden a horse.

Just as well, the process of tacking up a horse isn't always the most comfortable experience for the horse. To keep the saddle centered on the horse's back when moving at rough or fast paces, it's essential to tighten the belly strap (cinch) of the saddle as tightly as possible around the horse's belly. For the horse, it's like wearing a tight corset, chafes, and even leaves indents in their skin afterward that they love having rinsed with water and scratched. Some horses will learn to inflate their bellies while you're tightening the cinch so you can't get it as tight as it needs to be, and then exhale when they think you're done tightening it.

When you're working with a horse wearing a bridle, especially one with a bit, it can be a shocking sensory experience to a horse that's never used a bit before. While they lack a set of teeth naturally, so the bit doesn't actually hurt them, imagine having a metal rod shoved in your mouth horizontally! Unless you understand why it's important for the person you care about not dying, you'd be pretty pissed about having to keep it in there!

-Horseback riding isn't exercise.

If you're not using every muscle in your body to ride with, you're not doing it right.

Riding requires every ounce of muscle control you have in your entire body - although this doesn't mean it wasn't realistic for people with fat bodies to stay their weight while also being avid riders; it doesn't mean the muscles aren't there. To stay on the horse, you need to learn how it feels when it moves at different gaits (walk, trot, canter, gallop), how to instruct it to switch leads (dominant legs; essential for precise turning and ease of communication between you and the horse), and not falling off. While good riders look like they're barely moving at all, that's only because they're good riders. They know how to move so seamlessly with the horse, feeling their movements like their own, that they can compensate with their legs and waists to not bounce out of the saddle altogether or slide off to one side. I guarantee if you ride a horse longer than 30 minutes for the first time, your legs alone will barely work and feel like rubber.

-Horses aren't affectionate.

Horses are extraordinarily affectionate toward the right people. As prey animals, they're usually wary of people they don't know, or have only recently met. They also - again, like service animals - have a "work mode" and a "casual mode" depending upon what they're doing at the time. Horses will give kisses like puppies, wiggle their upper lips on your hair/arms to groom you, lean into neck-hugs, and even cuddle in their pasture or stall if it's time to nap and you join them by leaning against their sides. If they see you coming up from afar and are excited to see you, they'll whinny and squeal while galloping to meet you at the gate. They'll deliberately swat you with their tails to tease you, and will often follow you around the pasture if they're allowed to regardless of what you're up to.

-Riding crops are cruel.

Only cruel people use riding crops to hurt their horses. Spurs? I personally object to, because any horse that knows you well doesn't need something sharp jabbing them in the side for emphasis when you're trying to tell them where you want them to go. Crops? Are genuinely harmless tools used for signalling a horse.

I mean, think about it. Why would crops be inherently cruel instruments if you need to trust a horse not to be afraid of you and throw you off when you're riding it?

Crops are best used just to lightly tap on the left or right flank of the horse, and aren't universally used with all forms of riding. You'll mainly see crops used with English riding, and they're just tools for communicating with the horse without needing to speak.

-There's only one way to ride a horse.

Not. At. All. At most teaching ranches, you'll get two options: Western, or English, because they tend to be the most popular for shows and also the most common to find equipment for. English riding uses a thinner, smaller saddle, narrower stirrups, and much thinner bridles. I, personally, didn't like English style riding because I never felt very stable in such a thin saddle with such small stirrups, and didn't start learning until my mid teens. English style riding tends to focus more on your posture and deportment in the saddle, and your ability to show off your stability and apparent immovability on the horse. It was generally just a bit too stiff and formal for me.

Western style riding utilizes heavier bridles, bigger saddles (with the iconic horn on the front), and broader stirrups. Like its name may suggest, Western riding is more about figuring out how to be steady in the saddle while going fast and being mobile with your upper body. Western style riding is generally the style preferred for working-type shows, such as horseback archery, gunning, barrel racing, and even rodeo riding.

-Wealthy horse owners have no relationship with their horses.

This is loosely untrue, but I've seen cases where it is. Basically, horses need to feel like they're working for someone that matters to them in order to behave well with a rider and not get impatient or bored. While it's common for people to board horses at off-property ranches (boarding ranches) for cost and space purposes, it's been historically the truth that having help is usually necessary with horses at some point. What matters is who spends the most time with the animal treating it like a living being, rather than a mode of transport or a tool. There's no harm in stable hands handling the daily upkeep; hay bales and water buckets are heavy, and we're there to profit off the labor you don't want or have the time to do. You get up early to go to work; we get up early to look after your horses. Good owners/boarders visit often and spend as much of their spare time as they can with spending quality work and playtime with their horses. Otherwise, the horses look to the stable hands for emotional support and care.

So, maybe you're writing a knight that doesn't really care much for looking after his horse, but his squire is really dedicated to keeping up with it? There's a better chance of the horse having a more affectionate relationship with the squire thanks to the time the squire spends on looking after it, while the horse is more likely to tolerate the knight that owns it as being a source of discipline if it misbehaves. That doesn't mean the knight is its favorite person. When it comes to horses, their love must be earned, and you can only earn it by spending time with them hands-on.

-Horses can graze anywhere without concern.

This is a mistake that results in a lot of premature deaths! A big part of the cost of owning a horse - even before you buy one - is having the property that will be its pasture assessed for poisonous plants, and having those plants removed from being within the animal's reach. This is an essential part of farm upkeep every year, because horses really can't tell what's toxic and what isn't. One of the reasons it's essential to secure a horse when you aren't riding it is to ensure it only has a very limited range to graze on, and it's your responsibility as the owner/rider to know how to identify dangerous plants and keep your horses away from them.

There's probably more. AMA in my askbox if you have any questions, but that's all for now. Happy writing.

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤDUMB PUPPYㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : When you give them a collar.

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Terry McGinnis, Male Barbara Gordon, Male Cassandra Cain, Male Stephanie Brown.

☆⁠ NOTES : Kinda spicy. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

You present it in a little velvet box. All black leather. Expensive. Sleek.

“It’d look so good on you, baby.”

He raises a brow like you’ve lost your mind.

“You expect me to wear that?”

“I expect you to kneel too.”

He glares. Refuses. Walks away.

But next night you find him in the dark, shirtless, wearing it. Doesn’t say a word.

He won’t bark or crawl. But he’ll let you hold the leash while he eats you out on his knees.

“I’m still in control,” he growls.

“Keep telling yourself that, pup.”

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

You don’t even have to explain. You show him the collar and leash combo and he’s already wagging his metaphorical tail.

“Oh my god, is this for me? You want me to be your puppy???”

“Down, boy.”

He wears it proudly. In the apartment. On video calls. At brunch. He’s your golden retriever boyfriend and he’s LIVING for it.

“Can I get a tag with your name on it? Maybe like a bell?? Ooh! A harness???”

He lets you walk him on all fours, panting, tongue out. When he misbehaves, you tug the leash and he whines.

He even sends you selfies in it, after jerking off, with cum on his chest. Caption:

“Bad boy waiting for your punishment.”

— JASON TODD ⋆

You toss the collar on the bed like a challenge.

“Put it on.”

“You think I’m a dog, princess?”

“I think you bark a lot.”

He fights it. Glares. Snarls.

But five minutes later he’s shirtless. Leather collar snug around his throat. Chain leash in your hand.

“You gonna make me sit too?”

“No. I’m gonna make you beg.”

He growls when you tug him. Tries to act feral. But the flushed ears? The panting? The trembling thighs? You’ve turned the Red Hood into your whimpering pit bull.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

You present it like a gift. He looks offended.

“I am not some mutt to be paraded.”

He resists. Until one night, in private, he kneels at your feet and presents his neck.

The collar clicks. The leash dangles. His breath is shaky.

“This is… humiliating.”

“And yet your cock is hard.”

You walk him around the room like royalty leading her chained beast. He never breaks eye contact. You slap his thigh—he growls. You make him crawl—he obeys.

And afterward? He stays in the collar. Lays his head in your lap like a cat.

“I belong to you. Don’t ever remove it.”

— TERRY MCGINNIS ⋆

You pull out the collar, sleek black with red accents to match his suit, and flash him a grin.

“You wanna be my pup tonight?”

“...I mean… only if you call me ‘good boy.’”

Terry is SO down bad for you it’s ridiculous. One little pout and he’s on his knees with the leash between his teeth, wagging his ass.

You tug the leash and he yelps. You make him crawl to you and bark? He does it. And he looks hot as hell doing it.

“Is this degrading or kinda hot?”

“It’s both, baby.”

He loves the attention, the control, the way you stroke his hair and say,

“Such a pretty little pet.”

He will wear it under his Batsuit. Just a little secret between you two.

— BARRY GORDON ⋆

You show him the collar and he snorts.

“Oh? You finally decided to leash your man, huh?”

“I’ve always owned you, Barry. This is just proof.”

He acts like it’s a joke. Makes snarky comments the whole time.

“Ooooh nooo I’m your pretty little pet now, what ever shall I do?”

But when you buckle it around his neck and yank the leash? His eyes flutter shut.

And when you murmur,

“Mine,”

he goes silent.

It breaks something in him—in the best way.

After? You find him wearing it while working at his computer, casually.

“Don’t mind me. Just a man in love.”

— CASSIAN CAIN ⋆

You don’t even ask. You just hold the collar out. Cassian looks at it… then slowly gets on his knees and bows his head forward.

No words.

You buckle it around his throat and hook your finger in the ring. He follows you without resistance. Crawls behind you silently. His body lean, powerful—but tamed.

You speak gently:

“My good boy…”

His breath catches. His fingers twitch. He nuzzles into your thigh like a trained dog.

Cassian doesn’t speak during it. He just moans. Whines. Purrs.

And afterward, he sleeps at your feet like a contented panther.

— STEPHEN BROWN ⋆

You show him the collar and leash and this man practically jumps into your arms.

“OH MY GOD is this real? Do I get to be your pet??? Please tell me you bought the matching ears too???”

He’s running around shirtless with the collar jingling like a bell.

“Bark bark! Ruff! Ruff! I’m such a good boy, aren’t I??”

“Stephen, sit.”

immediately drops to his knees wagging his ass.

He is the definition of “enthusiastic consent.” You walk him around the house. You make him beg. He even licks your hand.

“You gonna feed me treats next? Or am I the treat?”

The leash is practically glued to him. He even wears it during movie night and cuddles in your lap like your oversized lapdog.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[semi-sketchy]

Cats outside are okay, actually.

This DOES NOT MEAN there are no dangers and you should let yours out. The best life will be indoors, but some cats were born or lived outside for so long and simply can't adjust to being inside, making outdoor life the kindest thing for them.

I speak as someone who has a cat that was born wild. He's great, warmed up to people very quickly and now comes indoors. However, he actually panics to the point of panting if he's in too long.

The best quality of life for him is outdoors and this applies to TNR cats like him.

A large majority of cats are born outside and while some can find homes indoors, that's not always an option and why spaying/neutering your animal is so important. There's simply not enough homes or resources for already socialized cats, let alone wild ones.

Some shelters have programs where they adopt out barn cats because some are not able to be placed inside a home. The only other alternative for these animals is euthanasia.

So yeah, I feel pretty strongly about this. Don't let a indoor cat/kitten outside without a leash, though.

[celistail]

Get the Favorite Dog Harness, Collar, Leash and Bowls – CÉLISTAIL

Shop for items that make your dog happy, including beautiful dog collar, unique dog collar, fancy dog collar, bulldog harness, frenchie harness, leather dog harness, leather dog leash, best dog leash for pulling, ceramic dog bowls, and ceramic cat bowl. Order now and get the Gift!

[darkmatilda]

𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after prentiss leaves, someone has to take care of her cat. you decide to share the responsibility between the two of you, leading the people around you to some strange conclusions.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, mini absurd arguments, spencer texting her at 3 a.m. just to infodump about cats (theyre too sweet i cant), theyre completely in their parents era, proof that my sense of humor is silly, diva pov in the final scene!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.3k

𝐚/𝐧: this idea was suggested to me in a comment when i asked for fic ideas for the marathon—basically i think two people mentioned something about the return of that little kitten 🫶����

marathon masterlist

“Are you sure you’ve got everything?” she asked, turning her head toward him.

Reid, sitting in the passenger seat of her car (her wonderful car…), sighed and closed his eyes.

“You should’ve asked me that when we were still at my apartment,” he muttered. “Then I could have checked. But I’m pretty sure I’ve got everything—like the litter box, the food…”

“A silk pillow?”

“Since when do cats need silk pillows?”

“Well, maybe other cats don’t, but mine does. The delicate fabric is the best for her fur.”

“And she’s still going to sleep on the shelf in the bathroom. Or the fridge. Anywhere but there. It’s a cat.”

She hesitated for a moment, but decided not to push. A brief explanation of what it was actually about—a while ago, they had both saved a kitten they found on the street. Neither of them had the time or the means to care for it, so it ended up in good hands with Emily. But when Prentiss accepted the job at Interpol and moved to London, it became necessary for someone else to take care of the kitten. Her second cat, Sergio, was taken in by Penelope, but she couldn’t adopt both, so they came up with the idea of sharing the responsibility.

This meant the cat would spend a few days with Reid and a few days with her, depending on their plans, schedules, and simply the time they had. It was a fairly new arrangement, so Spencer was about to take the cat in for the first time, and he felt as though it was much more serious than it really was.

After the first night, she literally came over in the morning to check if all her precious one's needs had been met and if she was well cared for. As it turned out, of course, everything was fine, and since she was already there, they went to work together.

“By the way,” she began, just as Reid reached for the car door (her wonderful car…!), which made him turn back toward her, hand paused midair. “I’m not convinced about that food Prentiss was giving her.”

Spencer barely held back an eye roll. Most of her concerns (and there were a lot of them) were entirely unfounded.

“It was fine. The vet recommended it himself.”

“But it didn’t look very good.”

“That’s because it’s cat food. It’d be weird if you thought it looked appetizing.”

“We’ll come back to that. Last thing—I had a few things delivered to your place…”

“To my place?”

“Yep. A harness, a leash, a bowl…”

“She already has a harness and leash. And I have bowls at my apartment…”

“Yeah, but these are nicer. Red with gold accents. They’ll match her black fur.”

“I’m genuinely starting to worry about you.”

“Why? Is it so wrong that I don’t want my baby getting laughed at by the other kids for wearing outdated clothes?”

“She’s a cat. Cats don’t laugh at each other for wearing outdated clothes. That kind of mean behavior is strictly human.”

“Say what you want, but I saw those judgmental looks last time I took her out for a walk.”

“You should be teaching your child that her worth isn’t tied to clothes or material things.”

“She knows that. And soon she’ll also learn that her father’s a cheapskate who doesn’t want her to have cool accessories.”

Spencer ended the conversation with a wave of his hand, deciding the level of absurdity had officially gone too far.

“We’re about to be late,” he pointed out, glancing at his watch.

She gave him a wounded look, as if time were a concept he’d personally invented just to get rid of her. Still, the fact remained—they really were about to be late.

They stepped out of her car (her wonderful... ha! Not this time) (...her wonderful car...) and almost immediately ran into Morgan’s surprised stare.

His takeaway coffee cup froze halfway to his lips.

“Since when do you two show up to work together?”

They exchanged a glance. Spencer’s was mildly awkward; hers was completely unfazed.

“Good morning, Morgan. Nice to see you too. That’s usually how these things start,” she replied in a lecturing tone, to which their friend only rolled his eyes.

“Good morning and all that. So?”

Spencer decided to step in, offering his own explanation—he wanted everything to be clear, no misunderstandings, and most importantly, no two weeks of Morgan shooting him those suggestive looks from beneath raised eyebrows.

“She was already leaving my apartment this morning, so we figured we’d just come in together,” he said plainly.

Morgan did exactly what Spencer had hoped to avoid—he shot him a suggestive look from beneath raised eyebrows.

She, too, fixed her gaze on him, the corner of her mouth curling with mild pity.

“Leaving each other’s apartments in the morning…I’ve gotta say, you two surprise me, but I can’t say it’s unexpected,” Derek commented, completely ignoring Reid’s emphatic head-shaking.

Before he could get another word out, he was silenced with a wave of her hand.

“Better not make it worse,” she told him, then sighed and turned to Morgan. “We just have a baby together.”

Spencer stared at her, wide-eyed.

 “And I’m the one making it worse?”

Morgan shook his head at them with a small smile and simply walked off, calmly sipping his coffee.

Naturally, Spencer hurried after him.

 “A cat! We have a cat together…!”

*

Spencer barely noticed Hotch’s arrival or the fact that the whole team had gathered—he was far too absorbed in the book he was reading.

Alex had been a little surprised by his choice of subject, but he’d explained that lately, he’d been reading a lot about cats. That was just the way he was. He felt a constant need to expand his knowledge, especially in areas that directly affected his daily life.

It had been two weeks since they’d taken the cat in together, and while he had grown used to the added presence in his apartment on certain days, he was still learning fascinating things about these creatures—either from personal experience or through books and articles.

Whenever he came across something particularly interesting, he made a mental note of it to share with her later. That is, with his colleague in shared cat ownership. In shared responsibility for Marie. Since they were doing this together, they needed to be equally educated.

And since there was quite a lot to learn, he eventually started texting her things like:

The claws on a cat’s back paws aren’t as sharp as the claws on the front paws because the back ones don’t retract and, as a result, get worn down.

To which he would receive replies like (which gave him a strange internal delight he would never admit out loud):

really?? going to check wait

Only for five minutes to pass in silence—until a new message popped up:

can’t check, she’s sleeping. you should be too, it’s 3 a.m

Spencer mentally bookmarked the exact page and line where he’d left off so he could return to it later.

In the meantime, Penelope stood before the team, remote in hand, ready to brief them on their next case. But before she could say a word, someone else walked into the room—despite the fact that the whole team was already there.

Funny. He’d just been thinking about her.

“I looked into what you asked me about,” she said, her eyes focused solely on Garcia, not sparing even a passing glance in his direction.

Not that it was particularly strange. Even though they hadn’t seen each other yet that day. It’s not like he always looked for her face first, in every room he happened to walk into.

In any case, she handed Penelope a few papers.

“I adore you, I swear,” Penelope gushed, accepting the papers with heartfelt gratitude.

“I know you do. Oh—and I know you didn’t ask for this, but I figured it was worth looking into, and I actually found something interesting. Take a look…”

She launched into something connected to their new case. Reid reached for the case files, flipping through them quickly to catch up with what she was referencing.

His gaze moved in a steady rhythm—from her face, to the page he was reading, and back again—following the cadence of her voice.

At one point, she caught the look he gave her and tilted her head slightly, a thoughtful expression forming on her face. She didn’t say anything, just kept talking about the case, and their eyes didn’t meet again until she was already at the door.

With one finger raised, she spun on her heel, as if something had just occurred to her. That finger landed squarely on him.

Curious about what she was about to say, Reid straightened in his seat. And then…

“I hope you remember the castration appointment. Six o’clock. You better be there early,” she said briskly before walking out of the room.

Every gaze in the room—unified like a single entity—turned toward his now unnecessarily upright figure.

Spencer’s fingers fidgeted with the papers in his hands, one drifting to his mouth as he cleared his throat.

“We…have a cat now…”

*

You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, eyes never leaving the test results spread out in front of you. Someone appeared at your side, and you knew exactly who it was—even without turning your head.

Over time, you had learned to recognize the people who regularly stepped into your lab—their footsteps, the way they moved, even the sound of their breathing.

This one was new. Quiet, almost shy. He’d only just joined your team, and he was young, with those perpetually shadowed eyes that always seemed to drift around the room in a distant sort of way. Judging by those eyes alone, one could assume he was constantly contemplating the essence of human suffering—and quietly mourning all eight billion souls, one by one.

But truthfully, he had the makings of a brilliant chemist. All he needed was a little more confidence.

“Um, you wanted to see me,” he reported, hands clasped behind his back. Or at least, that’s what you assumed he was saying—he usually stood like that until your stare reminded him he looked like a lost calf, and then he’d shift his posture in embarrassment.

“Indeed. Take these to Dr. Reid.”

You handed him the analyzed results, and he gave a simple nod. He returned ten minutes later, once again taking his place silently by your side, waiting to be noticed.

By then, you were already done with your coffee, fully immersed in your work, and you gave him only a brief nod—enough of a signal that he, too, should get back to it.

“Dr. Reid asked me to tell you…” Winchester began, looking even more awkward than usual. “That unfortunately, he won’t be able to take Marie this weekend.”

You sighed in frustration, and he nearly jumped, thinking it was directed at him.

“We agreed to take turns looking after her every weekend. Does he really have to change it at the last minute?” you muttered under your breath, mentally noting to call him and yell — just on principle. Because honestly, nothing was stopping you from taking the cat for the weekend.

But doing it this way was just more fun.

Winchester nodded and started assisting you with your work, occasionally swallowing nervously, as if trying to find a topic of conversation.

He seemed to live under the impression that whenever you were silent, you were probably planning to destroy the galaxy you all lived in — so he always tried to make awkward small talk, which, truth be told, he had no real desire for as a self-declared introvert.

“So…” he began hesitantly. “Her name is Marie? Is that after…?”

“Marie Skłodowska Curie? That’s right, point for you,” you replied, pausing for a moment as something crossed your mind, making the corners of your lips curl up unintentionally. “Although, at first, it was Albert. We thought she was a male. Blame Spencer and his bad vision,” you snorted.

Winchester looked genuinely shocked.

“How...how could you...what about the doctors?” he stammered, still trying to process the situation.

“What's wrong with them?”

“Didn't they tell you that you...have a beautiful little girl?”

“They did. But we thought it was a boy at first.”

“O-okay,” he muttered, suddenly opening his mouth like he had just realized something. “Oh, okay, now I get it. And, well, I admire you. A home birth must’ve been…tough.”

Only then did you look up at him, raising an eyebrow. He looked like he deeply regretted not keeping his mouth shut, but at the same time, had no idea where he had gone wrong. He scratched his head.

“Sorry if that's a sensitive topic.”

“Our cat would be a sensitive topic?” you asked, trying to hide your amusement because the sheer panic on his face was almost comical. It was reminiscent of Reid’s mortified expression when he tried desperately to conceal that something you did or showed him embarrassed him—though his cheeks gave him away.

“Your…your...I thought...I thought Marie was your and Doctor Reid’s child,” he stuttered, panicking. “And that...I don’t know, you’re divorced or something...should I just shut up now?”

You stared at him for a moment, as if he were battling with himself to close his eyes, as if that would make him disappear.

“Yeah, that’d be probably the best best”

Lmaoo Winchester = Whitaker from the pitt this is exactly what I had in mind while writing

[pearlprincess02]

lucky girl syndrome (jupiter going direct)

jupiter went direct in gemini feb 4th. & will be in gemini until jun 9th.

transit jupiter in your 1st house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 1st house of self, identity, and personal expression, this is a time of major growth, expansion, and reinvention. you may feel more confident, outgoing, and eager to embrace new opportunities. gemini’s influence makes this transit mentally stimulating—you might find yourself more curious, communicative, and eager to learn or share ideas. it’s a period where your personality shines, and you could attract luck simply by being open to new experiences. however, Gemini’s duality may also bring scattered energy, making it important to stay focused amidst all the excitement. this transit encourages you to take up space, redefine your personal goals, and step into a version of yourself that is more dynamic and expressive.

main character energy – you’re stepping into the spotlight with a renewed sense of confidence & presence.

the fool’s journey – a fresh start full of curiosity, learning, & new paths opening.

charming trickster – witty, adaptable, & quick-thinking, you might find yourself talking your way into (or out of) situations.

restless wanderer – a deep urge to explore new ideas, places, & social circles.

the butterfly effect – small shifts in your self-expression could lead to major personal transformations.

transit jupiter in your 2nd house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 2nd house of money, values, and self-worth, you’re entering a phase of financial growth, new income opportunities, and an expanded sense of personal confidence. gemini’s influence makes this a mentally agile and fast-moving transit—you might find success through networking, freelancing, or juggling multiple income streams. your ideas could become profitable, and your ability to adapt will be key in maximizing abundance. however, gemini’s restless nature may also lead to impulsive spending or financial distractions, so staying mindful of long-term stability is important. beyond money, this transit can shift your mindset around self-worth, encouraging you to see your talents as valuable and deserving of reward.

bag secured – money moves & financial glow-ups are in motion.

the hustle era – juggling multiple opportunities, side gigs, income streams.

manifestation, but make it logical – aligning mindset + strategy for success.

the merchant of ideas – using intelligence & communication to build wealth.

fast cash, fast talk – opportunities come quick, but so does spending—stay grounded!

what’s your rate? – recognizing your worth & charging accordingly.

transit jupiter in your 3rd house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 3rd house of communication, learning, and connections, your mind is on fire—in the best way. this transit brings an explosion of ideas, conversations, and opportunities to expand your knowledge. you might find yourself networking more, diving into new studies, or even considering travel related to learning or business. gemini’s influence makes this a social, witty, and fast-paced period where your words carry power, and your curiosity leads to unexpected growth. however, the challenge is staying focused—gemini thrives on variety, and with jupiter amplifying that energy, you may feel pulled in too many directions. harness this transit by embracing new perspectives while staying intentional about what truly excites you.

walking wikipedia – absorbing & sharing knowledge at lightning speed.

main character in a coming-of-age film – a season of exploration, learning, & new social circles.

talk your way into anything – networking, persuasion, & quick thinking pay off.

curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back – diving deep into new interests & ideas.

big brain energy – a mental glow-up through reading, writing, studying.

social butterfly era – more texts, calls, & connections than ever before.

transit jupiter in your 4th house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 4th house of home, family, and inner security, you’re entering a phase of expansion in your personal life. this could manifest as a literal move, renovations, or simply a mindset shift that makes home feel bigger and better. gemini’s influence brings variety—maybe you’re juggling multiple living situations, reconnecting with relatives, or finding new ways to express yourself in your private space. conversations with family may become more important, and you might gain wisdom from your roots or create your own version of home. the challenge? gemini thrives on movement, so you may feel restless or torn between different living situations or family dynamics. embrace the flexibility while also grounding yourself in what truly feels like home.

nomad energy – moving, traveling, feeling restless in your living situation.

dinner table debates – more conversations, reconnections, even drama in family dynamics.

home is where the wifi connects – redefining what home means to you.

marie kondo moment – decluttering, redecorating, making space for growth.

roots & wings – balancing family ties with personal freedom.

dual life, dual homes – splitting time between places/juggling family responsibilities.

transit jupiter in your 5th house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 5th house of creativity, romance, pleasure, and self-expression, life is turning into a playground of excitement and inspiration. this transit amplifies your desire for fun, love, and creative exploration, making it an ideal time to dive into artistic projects, romantic adventures, or simply enjoy life’s pleasures more fully. gemini’s influence adds a flirtatious, curious, and dynamic energy—you might find yourself drawn to multiple creative pursuits or juggling romantic interests. the challenge? gemini’s restlessness could make it hard to commit to one thing, so staying focused on what truly brings you joy will be key. whether it’s dating, art, or personal projects, this is a time to experiment, express yourself, and embrace spontaneity.

hopeless romantic, but make it chaotic – flirty, fast-moving love connections.

the muse & the masterpiece – a surge of creative inspiration.

living like a teen movie protagonist – drama, fun, & main character energy.

heartbreaker or heartbroken? – romantic highs & playful love games.

passion projects era – exploring new artistic/creative outlets.

butterflies, both literal & metaphorical – exciting connections & fresh sparks of inspiration.

transit jupiter in your 6th house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 6th house of work, health, and daily routines, life is picking up speed, and your to-do list might be growing—but so are your opportunities. this transit brings expansion in your work life, possibly through new job offers, side hustles, or projects that keep your mind engaged. gemini’s influence makes this a fast-paced period where multitasking becomes second nature, but beware of spreading yourself too thin. your approach to health and wellness may also shift—you might experiment with new habits, workouts, or mental health practices. the key to thriving during this transit? balance structure with variety, and use this energy to make daily life more stimulating, not overwhelming.

the productive procrastinator – juggling multiple tasks but somehow making it work.

hot girl walks & podcast era – learning while staying active & improving wellness.

work hard, scroll harder– balancing efficiency with distractions.

side quest overload – taking on too many projects/odd jobs.

new routine, who dis? – changing up daily habits for something fresh.

the office chatterbox – networking, teamwork, & making work more social.

transit jupiter in your 7th house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 7th house of relationships, partnerships, and one-on-one connections, your social life is expanding in exciting ways. this transit can bring new romantic prospects, business collaborations, or deeper growth in existing relationships. gemini’s influence makes interactions lively, intellectual, and full of possibilities—expect witty banter, intriguing conversations, and connections that keep you on your toes. you might attract people who challenge your perspective or find yourself balancing multiple relationship dynamics. the challenge? gemini’s dual nature can bring indecisiveness or scattered energy, so be mindful of where you invest your time and emotions. overall, this is a period of learning through relationships, where communication is key to creating lasting bonds.

power couple energy – expanding through strong partnerships, romantic/business.

situationship city – navigating multiple connections & fast-moving romances.

witty banter, stronger bonds – communication-driven relationships thrive.

networking is the new superpower – meeting the right people at the right time.

love letters or left on read? – exciting but sometimes inconsistent connections.

opposites attract, or do they? – learning from different perspectives in relationships.

transit jupiter in your 8th house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 8th house of transformation, intimacy, shared resources, and deep psychological growth, you’re entering a period of profound expansion—but in ways that aren’t always immediately visible. this transit encourages you to explore the hidden layers of life, whether through financial growth (investments, inheritances, or shared money), deeper emotional bonds, or even spiritual exploration. gemini’s influence makes this a time of intellectual curiosity about taboo topics, psychology, or metaphysics, and conversations could lead to major breakthroughs. relationships may take on a more intense but mentally stimulating dynamic, with trust and vulnerability becoming key themes. the challenge? gemini’s light, chatty energy may clash with the 8th house’s depth, leading to either emotional detachment or analysis paralysis. finding a balance between logic and intuition will help you navigate this transformative phase.

detective of the soul – a deep dive into psychology, mystery, hidden truths.

talk deep to me – intellectual intimacy becomes just as important as emotional/physical.

financial power moves – expanding wealth through investments, shared resources, passive income.

rebirth era – a transformation of mindset, identity, personal power.

secrets & synchronicities – uncovering hidden knowledge, patterns, deeper meanings in life.

magnetic, mysterious, unpredictable – drawing people in with an aura of intrigue & change.

transit jupiter in your 9th house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 9th house of travel, higher learning, and personal philosophy, you’re stepping into a period of mental and physical expansion. this transit sparks curiosity, making you eager to explore new ideas, cultures, or even places. you might feel drawn to studying, teaching, publishing, or simply engaging in thought-provoking conversations that reshape your worldview. gemini’s influence adds a restless, fast-moving energy, so instead of sticking to one path, you may find yourself juggling multiple interests or planning spontaneous trips. the challenge? avoid skimming the surface—while gemini loves variety, jupiter wants depth, so finding a balance between curiosity and commitment will help you make the most of this adventurous time.

catch flights, not feelings – travel, adventure, & new cultural experiences.

walking encyclopedia – learning, teaching, & expanding your knowledge.

philosopher in a coffee shop – deep convos, big ideas, & intellectual debates.

spontaneous road-trip energy – saying yes to adventure without overthinking.

jack of all trades, master of fun – dabbling in multiple subjects, skills, hobbies.

change your mind, change your life – a shift in beliefs/personal philosophy.

transit jupiter in your 10th house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 10th house of career, reputation, and public life, you’re entering a period of professional growth and opportunity. this transit brings a burst of expansion in your career, potentially through new job prospects, promotions, or increased visibility in your field. gemini’s influence encourages versatility and adaptability, making you more communicative, social, and creative in your approach to work. you may find that networking, public speaking, or writing brings you closer to your goals, and ideas flow easily. however, gemini’s restless nature could lead to a desire to juggle multiple career paths or projects, so staying focused will be key to harnessing this expansive energy. overall, this transit supports climbing the ladder and showcasing your talents on a larger scale.

ceo energy – big career moves, promotions, increased public recognition.

talk your way to the top – using your communication skills to network & advance professionally.

social climber, but make it fun – building your reputation through lively connections & fresh ideas.

multi-hyphenate boss – juggling multiple roles, jobs, entrepreneurial ventures.

public figure vibes – your visibility/influence in your field is on the rise.

work hard, play hard – finding a balance between professional ambition & personal freedom.

transit jupiter in your 11th house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 11th house of friendships, social networks, and long-term goals, this transit expands your social circle and supports your dreams for the future. you may find new, exciting opportunities through friends or group activities, and your ideals and vision for your future could undergo a major expansion. gemini’s influence brings intellectual stimulation, encouraging lively, diverse conversations and a mix of interests within your community. this is a great time to collaborate on projects, join new groups, or align with people who share your passions and goals. however, gemini’s love for variety could mean you’re pulled in many directions, so staying focused on the connections that truly align with your values is key. this transit can bring a sense of community and support that fuels your ambitions.

squad goals – expanding your social network & connecting with like-minded individuals.

future ceo of my friend group – using friendships to propel your long-term goals & ambitions.

the connector – linking people, ideas, opportunities together with ease.

the visionary – shaping your future through collaborations & shared dreams.

group chat energy – lots of conversations, brainstorming, & collective energy.

dreams are made of social circles – aligning with the right people to manifest your big goals.

transit jupiter in your 12th house:

with jupiter moving direct in your 12th house of the subconscious, spirituality, and hidden matters, this is a deeply transformative and expansive transit, though not always outwardly visible. the 12th house rules what is hidden, and with jupiter here, you may experience a surge of inner growth, clarity, and connection to your higher self. this transit invites you to explore hidden truths, unlock spiritual insights, and confront unresolved issues from your past. gemini’s influence makes this an intellectual and communicative time, where ideas flow, and you may feel inspired to write, meditate, or engage in deep inner reflection. you might also be more attuned to your dreams, intuition, or collective energy. the challenge? the 12th house’s hidden nature can bring a sense of isolation or confusion, so staying grounded and aware of your inner world will be key to making the most of this spiritual growth phase.

the quiet awakening – spiritual/subconscious growth that feels subtle but profound.

secret genius – intellectual insights/creative ideas that come from within, often in solitude.

ego dissolution – letting go of limiting beliefs & embracing a higher perspective.

the dreamer’s journal – messages from dreams, intuition, meditation that guide your path.

healing through words – writing, journaling, deep reflection helping you process inner healing.

solitude is the new social – spending time in solitude to process & expand your inner world.

all observations are done by me !!! @pearlprincess02

main masterlist

[covenha]

Synopsis: seonghwa harnesses the power of manifestation to get himself a girlfriend. Pairings: Simp!seonghwa x fem! reader Genre: crack, fluff, just seonghwa being a silly goofy guy Warnings: witchcraft technically? astrology is also mentioned WC: 1577 a/n: another self-indulgent fic is done! wrote this after i finished an exam so read at your own risk. i might right more bonus blurbs for this but who knows. this is a piece of fiction so it does not reflect who the characters are irl. please read the warnings carefully! and as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated 🫶

Simp!hwa had been content with silently pining over you. That is until one day he asked for a sign from the universe if he should confess. He was walking down the streets of his neighborhood while on his way to school with a little skip in his step, excited to see you. He was nearing Mrs. Nesbit’s house, an old lady with a splotchy memory but a kind heart. He stops to wave at her as she sways back and forth on the rocking chair on her porch. Then, as if she read his mind she goes, “Hurry up or you’ll miss it!”

Was this it? Was this the universe finally telling him to shoot his shot with you and confess his profound love for you? 

Well, the answer was no. Mrs. Nesbit was referring to the bus two blocks away ready to leave Seonghwa’s delusional ass behind. But it’s fine. He didn’t really care. All he really cared about was figuring out how to get you to fall in love with him so that you guys grow old together and live out your best lives with your two cats and moss ball babies. 

Now, Seonghwa knew that he had to approach this from a proactive standpoint. Sure, you and him have been friends since both of your awkward emo teen phases but he really wanted to cement in his chances with you. So he turned to the one place he knew he could get somewhat decent love advice from; Reddit. And with the wise words of Wefishyfishy98 he knew what he had to do. If he really wanted this he needed to use the power of manifestation. 

Simp!hwa wore your hair tie on his hand with pride. He read somewhere on twitter that girls liked to “mark their territory” with things like this and he grew weak at the knees thinking about you staking your claim on him. (Of course, in a completely normal and non-a/b/o kind of way.) I mean isn’t this such a boyfriend thing to do? He was clearly using the power of manifestation or whatever that fish guy said on Reddit. 

And this is why, when summer grew closer and the weather grew warmer, Seonghwa absolutely did not want to return it to you. 

“Hwa, C’mon it’s hot and I don’t want my hair sticking to my neck.” 

“Look, I can get you a new set of hair ties! Here, look at these cute ones I found on Etsy.” He tried to distract you with some cute kuromi hair ties he just found. Jongho is just silently observing the interaction between the both of you. 

You found it weird that he refused to give it to you even after you pestered him to but you decided to just give up and tough it out. And those ties on Etsy were kinda cute. 

“Fine. I guess the weather isn’t so bad today. What are you even doing on Etsy anyway?” you try to take a peak at whatever Seonghwa is looking up on his phone to which he quickly turns it off and puts it screen down on the table. 

“Nothing!” You seem a little taken aback by this. “Just… looking for plants for my… aquarium.”

“You mean your aquarium filled with moss balls… a plant. You want to get plants for your plants?” you blink at him. 

“Technically they’re algae.” Jongho butts in. 

“Right…. Well, at least you’re passionate about your moss balls?” you trail off. 

Seonghwa breathes a sigh of relief as Jongho nods on to you changing the topic to something about your mother’s extensive cacti collection. He opens up his phone again and clicks the order on his Etsy cart. 

“I hope this works.” He thinks to himself. 

That same night, Seonghwa started wracking his brain trying to think of something else that he could do that was “boyfriend coded”. And after much deliberation while staring at the ceiling, it finally hits him. She should be my lock screen! I mean nothing screams boyfriend like a cute candid picture as my lock screen. 

So, with this in mind, he scrounges through his gallery looking for a good photo of you to put as his lock screen. Then he spots the perfect candid of you in his living room sitting on the floor with lego pieces scattered all around the floor trying to assemble his lego death star with him. You aren’t looking at the camera, instead you look completely locked in on building the superweapon of the Empire with him. He stares at the image with a warm feeling spreading throughout his body. Without even realizing it he’s smiling like an idiot at his screen and he buries his head on his pillow and screams into it while kicking his feet on his mattress. 

That night he dreams of a distant future with you. One where he can call you his. Oh, and of course you can’t forget your two cats Lily and Bongo, and his ever growing collection of marimo balls.  

A week and a half later, he’s checking his phone every few minutes and then looking at the front door waiting to see if the delivery truck has arrived. Today was your birthday and the gift that he had bought you was running dangerously late. Which is why when he hears a truck nearing the property he all but zooms off the living room couch and to the front door. He accepts the package from the delivery man and quickly unboxes it. 

“It’s perfect.” he thought, smiling to himself as he delicately put it in a bag.

Later that day, as he walks you home just in time for you to have dinner with your family he surprises you with the gift. 

“Wha- Hwa? I thought we weren’t doing gifts this year?” you say as you accept the small paper bag from him. 

“Well, I saw this and I just couldn’t not get it for you.” he just smiles at you shyly as you look at him, surprised at the gesture. 

“Now, I have to get you a gift worth two birthdays next year.” you joke. 

“You’re the best gift life has to offer.” he thinks. But he shakes his head, a dumb smile on his face. “Open it.” he motions to the gift. 

You open and find a couple kuromi hair ties, just as promised. But also, a jewelry box with a bracelet inside. It had a dainty gold chain and a baby pink stone in the middle. 

“Hwa, I love it.” you smile at him. “It’s so pretty.” you inspect the bracelet. 

“Here, let me put it on you.” he gets the bracelet from the box and clamps it around your wrist. He smiles at the sight of you wearing the bracelet. 

He unfortunately had to leave because it was getting dark and he had to feed his cat at home. But, he swears he feels something in the air that night. 

“Please work.” He mumbles to himself. 

In hindsight, what Seonghwa felt that fateful night was probably just pollen, because the very next day Seonghwa finds Jongho coming down with a bad case of allergy sniffles. The cafeteria is filled with the sounds of chattering from hungry sleep-deprived college students and Jongho’s sneezes. 

“So, did you finally give her that rose quartz bracelet you bought from that Etsy witch?” Seonghwa’s cheeks burn at his words. 

“Yea. It was a good time too. Venus was in mercury gatorade or something.” he mumbles while picking at the skin on his thumb. 

“Ahem.” You startle both boys with your presence. You raise your eyebrows at both of them and decide to end their misery of staring at you with their mouths open in shock. “What’s this about an Etsy witch?” 

“I do not recall saying Etsy witch.” Jongho mumbles quickly then packs up his things, muttering some excuse about buying a gatorade from the vending machine. Seonghwa just sits there, mouth agape, trying to stutter out some excuse but nothing coherent falls from his mouth. 

“Hwa, you know you didn’t have to summon the forces of magic and astrology to make me fall in love with you right? I kinda already am.” You blush as you admit your feelings for your best friend. 

Simp!hwa’s brain malfunctions hearing this. Heart pounding, mind racing. Did she just... Did she just say that? She likes me? Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh! I can’t believe this is happening. I’ve been waiting for this moment for what feels like forever. What now?! I didn’t actually think I would get this far. Shit what happens next. Do I shake her hand? No, that would be weird. Just say something, Seonghwa! Say something!

“Will you be my manifested girlfriend?” he asks in a dazed voice. This makes you giggle before you shake your head then decide to kiss him on the nose. “It’s about time.” 

Seonghwa wastes no time in going in for a kiss. It felt like fireworks were going off in the background (it was just Jongho having a massive sneezing fit). The moment was perfect. It was magical. You guys stare into each other’s eyes and it felt like all was right with the world. As the both of you pull away from the kiss, Jongho sits down at the table with a purple gatorade. 

“You know it's actually mercury retrograde, right?” 

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Sin City !NSFW!

Maya Mason x fem!Reader

Word count: 8,912

Content warning(s): MDNI; Las Vegas, extensive drug and alcohol use (old school Hollywood party!!!!), exhibitionism and voyeurism (nothing public), drunk/high sex, Maya and reader smoke a joint while fucking on top of a bed of money, eye contact, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

Summary: Maya "I'm a dog person" Mason finally gets the cat she's always wanted. They're inseparable, and she even insists on taking him to Las Vegas for CinemaCon.

A/N: I'd like to thank the baddies of the Keeping Up with the Lesbihahns server for helping out with this oneshot! I love you guys sm!!! And also, spread the word. Maya's middle name is Magdalene. It's canon now. No other name will be accepted per @sweetmidnights decision. Also I just hit 700 followers?? So thank you so much for all of your love and support!!

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Masterlist

“Are you serious?”

Maya stands in front of you with a proud look on her face. “Yeah.”

“Gucci?” you ask, arms crossed. In Maya’s arms is a kitten. He’s fluffy and orange, and his ears end in sharp points and tufts of fur. And, even more obvious, he’s the size of a chihuahua. “He’s a maine coon, Maya. Do you know how big he’s gonna get? How old is he?”

“Um–Four months, I think.”

You open your mouth and pause. “Wait–Gucci? You named him…Gucci…Maine? Like Gucci Mane?” You can’t help but try not to laugh as she cracks a grin. It’s exactly something she would do.

“Pretty great, huh?” she smirks, hand running across his fluffy belly.

You scoff, giggling as you kiss her on the cheek. “It’s pretty stupid.”

As you go into the kitchen to start on dinner, she calls after you, “Stupidly awesome!”

Maya dotes on the cat–what feels like–more than you. A few days later, when you wake up Saturday morning to Maya’s side of the bed cold, you know exactly why. And when you get downstairs, she’s at the kitchen table with the cat in front of her. He sits politely on top as she adjusts a collar around his neck.

“There we go!” she chirps, sounding like she’s talking to a baby. “You look so handsome!”

You come up behind her and place a kiss on her head. “Good mor–Is that a Gucci collar?”

You stand beside her, looking at the cat as he flicks his tail innocently. Maya runs her hands through his fur and he starts purring. “Yeah,” she says. “It was almost five hundred dollars.”

Your head whips toward her. “Five hundred dollars?” you repeat, jaw dropping. “Maya Magdalene Mason!”

“What?” she cries. “Gucci Mason deserves the best!”

Your hands are now on your hips as you look down at her. “You have spent over three thousand dollars this week alone! And a three hundred dollar,  monthly cat food subscription?” When your eyes glance to the side they land on the diamond-studded leash and harness. “Is that–are those diamonds?”

“I’m leash training him,” Maya shrugs, and you huff, rolling your eyes. She stands up slowly, wearing that smirk she always does when you’re annoyed at her. As you purse your lips and avoid eye contact, her hands run up and down your arms.

“You left me by myself in bed this morning,” you huff. You finally make eye contact and your voice is whiny. “I woke up very horny, and you weren’t even there.”

 “I’m sorry, baby,” she says, voice lowering to the tone that always gets you going. 

“You’ve never gotten me a Gucci necklace,” you mutter, looking off to the side and pouting.

Maya scrunches her brows. “Sweetheart, the last time we were at a Gucci store, you said all of their necklaces were ugly. Besides,” she shrugs, pulling you in closer, “you’re not Gucci. You’re Prada. You’re Chanel. You’re Dolce & Gabbana. You’re classy and romantic, and your side of the closet is filled with a whole rainbow of colors.” 

She looks at you pointedly, her voice soft. “And I know you. And if I got you a Gucci necklace, you wouldn’t wear it.”

You scoff. “I would wear it, because I'd be grateful.”

“Maybe,” Maya says, “but you wouldn’t like it. And that’s why all of the jewelry I get you is Swarovski and Tiffany and Van Cleef–because I know those are the ones that always have exactly what you want.” 

Still pouting, you look over at the cat who’s now laying down on the table. “It is a cute collar on him,” you mumble, not making eye contact. “Fine. You’re right. I wouldn’t wear a Gucci necklace.”

Maya’s hand goes under your chin and forces you to look at her. Her face is free of makeup–something that only you’re privy to. You can see the lines under her eyes and the crows feet in the corner, all of the subtle marks that would be covered by layers of makeup are exposed–and beautiful. 

“That’s right,” she mumbles. “Now, go upstairs, take off your clothes, and get back into bed.” She places a soft kiss on your lips. “I’ll be up shortly.”

__________

“Is that a fucking cat?” 

Heads turn, and Sal’s voice is loud above you in the hall as you and Maya climb the stairs–with Gucci in front of you in his diamond-studded harness and leash. You hold a tote bag of a duplicate of cat supplies for Maya’s office.

Maya, pleases her sunglasses on her head and grins up at him.”Damn right it is!”

“You can’t have a fucking cat here, Maya!” Sal shouts as the two of you finally get to the landing that overlooks the whole lobby.

 “Is that a cat?” Quinn comes out of her office with a bright smile on her face. She leans down and scratches him on his head as he purrs. “Oh my gosh, you are the cutest thing ever!”

Maya looks at Sal smugly, and then, behind Sal, comes Matt. “Is that a cat?” His eyes are bright with childlike wonder as he sips his coffee. “That is the cutest thing ever! I love Maine coons.”

Sal looks at him in outrage. “You’re seriously gonna fuckin’ let her have a cat in the office?”

“Why not?” Matt shrugs. “I mean, Tyler sometimes brings his dog in.”

“Um, allergies?” Sal points out. “And their piss stinks up the whole place! They scratch everything!”

“If you hate cats, you can just say it, Sal,” you grin, taking a drink of your latte.

When he looks at you, his eyes drop to the tote bag in your hand. “Are those fucking cat supplies?” 

“Yeah,” Maya shrugs. “Gucci needs his home-away-from-home. He gets lonely when we’re away.”

“His name is Gucci?” Sal says, a disgusted look on his face. “That is the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard.”

“Hey! Don’t insult my son!” Maya snaps, then turns to you, completely calm. “Come on, babe, let’s go set this shit up in my office.”

“Oh, Maya,” Matt calls, “there’s a huge package waiting for you in your office!”

Maya turns her head, “Thank you! That’s the cat tree I ordered.”

The bathroom in Maya’s office is now home to Gucci’s litter box. A drawer in her desk is solely for his food and toys now. In front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window behind her desk, you both are sitting on the floor setting up the cat tree.

While Gucci runs around the office with his toys, Maya huffs, reading the directions.”What the fuck is this shit?”

She keeps trying to fit pieces together that clearly don’t fit. “Sweetheart,” you say, “those don’t go together.”

“Yes, they do!” she snaps. 

You take the pieces of the cat tree from her hands carefully. “No, they don’t,” you say softly. “Go over to the espresso machine and make yourself a latte. Calm down and then you can help again.”

By the time the cat tree is done it’s almost 11am. Gucci is already climbing it, ears going back as he chirps at the birds flying by. 

And you–you’re pressed against Maya’s desk as she places soft kisses on your lips and neck. The blinds are drawn over the door and windows and she groans. “I can’t lie, it was really hot watching you build that cat tree.”

As her lips skim over your neck as you giggle. “I–”

There’s a knock on the door, and before either of you can answer the door opens.

“Oh, Jesus fuck!” Sal groans, and she pulls away quickly. “Again?”

“Maybe you should wait after knocking!” Maya snaps. “What the fuck do you want?”

Sal opens his mouth to speak but stops suddenly. When he looks down, Gucci is purring and pawing at his leg. “Ew! Ew! Ew!” He redirects to maya and says quickly, “I’m just reminding you that there’s ten minutes until the meeting about CinemaCon.”

__________

In the conference room, Gucci sits in his bed on the table. No one seems to mind–except Sal, who glares at him. 

Maya sits beside you, her arm draped over the back of your chair. Matt walks over, to you both, leaning against the table. “I thought you were a dog person,” he says to Maya. 

Maya takes a sip from her water bottle. “It is a dog,” she says. “It’s just weirdly shaped.”

“Right…” Matt reaches his hand out for Gucci to sniff, and when he does, he immediately hisses at him. 

When Matt jumps back, Maya starts laughing. Patty sits beside Maya at the head of the table, sipping at her coffee as she grins. “Aw, Matty’s sad that the cat doesn’t like him.”

“I don’t need a cat to like me,” Matt scoffs, but there’s a hint of hurt in his voice. He clears his throat and closes the doors. “Alright! CinemaCon! This weekend we’ll be flying out to vegas.” Everyone cheers as he looks through the itinerary. “Maya, you’re the organizer, so you two will be flying out Friday night instead of Sunday afternoon with us.”

“Wait, why does she get to go earlier?” Sal asks, pointing at you.

“Because she’s better than you,” Maya says mockingly. She then shrugs, “I also can’t go a day without my hands on her.”

“Figures,” Patty mutters into her mug.

Matt looks at the itinerary, confused and looks up at Maya. “Um…Maya, it says there’s a third passenger with the two of you.”

“Yeah, it’s Gucci,” she says. “I knew Continental wouldn’t pay for a cat on the plane, so I paid for him myself.”

The room is quiet as Gucci stretches on the table.

“You paid a thousand dollars for an extra spot on the private jet…for a fucking cat?” Sal spits. “We’re going to vegas.”

“He gets lonely,” Maya snaps back.

“Oh, is he gonna drink with us? Snort some coke?” Sal asks, his voice starting to rise. “Is he gonna play roulette and blackjack? Maybe try out a couple of slot machines?”

Maya stands up, leaning forward on the table. “Oh, don’t be fucking ridiculous!”

As the two of them argue, Gucci hops out of his bed and trots over to Sal. And when he hops into his lap, Sal freaks out. “Get him off! Get him the fuck off of me, now!”

As Patty stands up to retrieve the cat, Maya shouts at him. “Oh, don’t be such a fuckin’ pussy! Accept his affection! He’s probably the only living thing that’ll show you it!”

Patty walks over with Gucci and hands him to Maya. “Alright, let’s calm down–both of you. Sal, it’s final. The cat’s…” She closes her eyes and sighs, like she’s contemplating even saying the words. “...Coming to Vegas with us.”

__________

“Is Gucci wearing a sweater?” you ask, setting your stuff down in the seat beside yours. You look through the mesh of his carrier and settle yourself into the private jet.

“Yeah,” Maya says. “It gets cold on planes.”

While the marketing team ruled over by Maya is getting their bearings together, she takes Gucci out of his carrier. He sits in the seat beside her, purring as she runs her fingers through his fur and feeds him a treat. When she looks up, Tyler is clearly trying to take a seat with you.

“Can I help you?” Maya asks.

Tyler gestures to the seat. “Can I sit here?”

Maya looks at the cat and then back at Tyler. “It’s occupied.”

“Here, Tyler,” you sigh, smiling as you take your personal items and set them under the table in front of you. “You can sit here.”

The hour and a half flight to Las Vegas is uneventful. Maya and Tyler mostly over the schedule for CinemaCon, while the other marketing staff drink and celebrate Maya letting them go this year. As the plane is landing and Maya packs up her work, she gets the attention of her staff.

“Alright, bitches!” she calls out. “The only reason you’re here is because you slayed on those Kool-Aid ads.” She’s met with cheering and she continues. 

“I don’t usually do this, but I want to call out some people who exceeded my expectations this past year–Micha, that poster for The Silver Lake was fire. Alisha, you have been cooking with those Blackwing trailers. And Danielle and Sarah, thank you for making that shitty–” Maya chuckles to herself and looks over at you  “–diarrhea apocalypse movie somewhat marketable.”

The door to the tarmac is opening and she stands up, looking at them sternly. “Now, I know we’re in Vegas. We’re all excited. But do not embarrass me. And more importantly, do not embarrass Continental Studios.” 

The marketing team looks at Maya like school children in a lesson. She stares at them all, her eyes narrowing and her lips pursed. “What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Do not post any pictures to your social media that show you doing drugs–and I know damn well you’re all gonna do at least one kind–and, yes, alcohol counts.”

“I know, I know,” she says. “You wanna show your old high school bullies that you’re cooler than them. You wanna post a cute little selfie backstage with your cute little headset on? Sure, fine, go ahead. But if you are at a party, if you are in a casino, if you are drinking, doing drugs, don’t post any of it.”

Maya claps in between each word, “Do-not-post-any-vegas-pictures-online! Period?” When she only receives nods and ‘mhm’s, she huffs. “Period?” When she gets a somewhat enthusiastic response, she rolls her eyes. “We’re meeting tomorrow morning at eleven, in the auditorium. I don’t care how hungover you are. Do not be late…Alright, get the fuck outa here.”

__________

Saturday morning and afternoon are filled with run-throughs of the CinemaCon presentation. You sit in the auditorium with your latte while Gucci sits in your lap and you scroll on your phone. Every now and then, you’ll get a bit of Maya’s shouting.

“Are you high right now?”

“If I wanted it to look like that, I’d get my cat to do it!”

“Fuck! The one time I let interns and junior marketing come to CinemaCon! The one time!”

By the time evening rolls around, Maya is done with everything. She stands in front of the rest of marketing, Gucci in her arms as she pets him with a scowl. “We have one last run-through tomorrow,” she says, her voice low and deadly. “The rest of the Continental executives will be here tomorrow night for the presentation on Monday morning. Do not embarrass me.”

Maya joins you without another word to them and as you’re leaving, you can hear Tyler say, “Y'all can go now.”

The interns and junior marketing staff scramble off in their own directions and you can see Maya smirking. She sets the cat down when you’re outside of the auditorium, holding on tight to the leash as her arm goes around your waist.

Gucci is a hit with the hotel staff. He’s friendly and social, and he’s been passed around the concierge desk multiple times. And the entire time, Maya always wears a smug and proud smile. 

__________

“Oh, yeah! Come to Mama!” 

Maya’s hit her third win in roulette tonight–and you’ve been in her lap this whole time.

“You’re sitting in a chair?” she had asked as you were pulling a chair out at the roulette table.

You paused, “Um…yeah?”

“Is my lap not good enough for you?” 

And how could you say no?

You couldn’t. Not when you see those gold hoops hanging from her ears. Not when you see her hair straightened, tucked behind her ear. Not when her eyes are dark and smokey. And not when she wears that smirk and raises her eyebrows at you.

So, now, you’re in her lap as she collects the thousands of dollars worth of chips she just won. Her hands snake around your waist as you lean into her hold, and you can feel her lips press to your bare shoulder.

“You’re my little good luck charm tonight,” she murmurs against you.

 You lean back slightly, your voice quiet in her ear. “Play your cards right, and you might win a little something extra when we get back to our room.”

Your head is clouded by lust and the numerous drinks you’ve consumed tonight. Maya, who’s just as drunk as you, unlocks the door to your suite and stumbles in as you both laugh.

Both of your makeup is smudged from the elevator ride up. Maya immediately stumbles over to the cat and puts him in the suite attached to yours. When the door is shut she opens her tote filled with the cash she won in roulette…and then dumps it on the Alaskan King bed.

Bills fly in all different directions and Maya opens the bedside drawer. When she closes it, in between her fingers is a joint. She lights it, tosses the lighter onto the stand, and walks slowly toward you.

Her hips sway and Maya backs you against the wall. She presses a kiss to your lips and then puts the joint to your mouth. As you take a drag from it, she looks at your lips and then back up to your eyes. “I wanna fuck you on my pile of money,” she breathes.

You blow the puff of smoke into her face and grin as you hand the joint back to her. “Is that why you asked for mostly smaller bills?”

Maya shrugs. “Partially.” She takes another puff of the joint and smirks at you. “I was also thinking we could go to a strip club while we’re here.”

“A strip club?” You laugh as she holds the joint in her mouth and drags you toward the bed. She pushes you down on the bed, the pile of cash crinkling under your weight,

“We’re here until the 12th, hon,” Maya smirks lazily, joint in between her fingers as she blows smoke into your face. She kisses you before handing it over, and straddles your hips. “Our presentation is the first one. And then we have the rest of the time to ourselves. So why not try something new? What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?”

After handing the joint back to her, you scoot back until you’re on the pillows, money still crumpling and wrinkling beneath you both. Your hands grab at her thighs as she puts herself right back on top of you. “You really wanna go to a strip club?” you giggle.

Maya braces her left hand above you, joint sticking out between her pointer and middle finger. She leans in close and her other hand runs over your cheeks and down your throat. “Why not? We’d be the hottest couple there and we’d tip better than anyone in the establishment. ”

“Okay, my Maya Magdalene,” you chuckle, reaching up to take the joint from her hand as she smiles. “We’ll go to a strip club if it makes you happy. But we have to wash the money first. I’m not giving those girls money we’ve fucked on.”

You both can’t help but laugh as you pass the joint back and forth while trying to remove your clothes. That, tied with being cross-faded, and it feels almost impossible. In the end, you’re both half naked on a pile of cash.

Your dresses are halfway off, shimmied down your torsos but no further.

Bras are flipped upside down after trying to pull them off instead of unclasping them.

Your pantyhose are ripped open.

And Maya still has one stiletto on.

But having one shoe on doesn’t stop her–in fact, she probably doesn’t even notice. Because right now, she’s laying on top of her casino winnings and her head is in between your legs.

Smoke fills your mouth and lungs as you take a drag from the joint. When you let it out, a loud moan follows. When you look down, her eyes bear into yours, heavy and bloodshot.

Your skin prickles as Maya’s hands run over your thighs, chest heaving as the pleasure builds and builds. You’re trembling, shaking beneath her. She moans into your pussy and your back arches. 

Maya’s fingers remain inside you, curling as she sits up and hovers over you. She takes the joint from your fingers and has the final puff of it before it’s burnt out. After tossing it onto the night stand, she leans down and kisses you hard.

Your hands tangle in her hair through the mess of tongue and teeth and spit. Whimpers and moans spill from your lips uncontrollably as her lips brush over your cheek and down to your ear.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” she whispers, breath warm and sending a chill through you.

“Yes!” you whine, hips grinding into her hand. “Please–fuck–I wanna cum!” Your voice is strained as you plead into her mouth. “I wanna cum, I wanna cum–please, Maya!”

Maya’s thoroughly enjoying your whining and begging. She smiles as her tongue grazes yours and her hand pins yours above your head. “I fucking love it when you beg for me…do it again.”

Your head drops back in frustration. “God fucking dammit!” you seeth. “Fuck, Maya! Please!” You’re almost screaming at her now, and tears have started trickling down your temples. “Fuck, I wanna cum! I wanna cum–please, please, please!”

Her lips slam into yours. “Cum for me, baby,” she breathes, barely pulling away as you sob into her mouth. “That’s my good girl!”

Your chest heaves and you feel dizzy as you come down. Maya holds you and presses soft kisses all over your face. “So good for me.” She kisses your lips lightly. “I’m so proud of you.”

__________

You wake up in Maya’s arms, completely naked after somehow managing to remove your clothes. When you roll onto your back your eyes crack open against the morning sun and you stretch.

There’s a crinkling sound of paper.

You sit up on your elbows as Maya stirs, groaning loudly through her hangover. When your eyes adjust, still heavy with sleep, you realize what you’re lying in.

“Maya?”

“What?” she groans, laying on her stomach with her face buried in her pillow.

“Did we sleep on a pile of money?”

Maya pushes herself up slightly. There’s leftover makeup and dark shadows under her eyes. She squints as she looks around at the money, “What the fuck?”

The both of you just barely make it on time to the final day of run-throughs for CinemaCon. All of Maya’s staff is waiting, some in sunglasses clinging to their water bottles religiously, and some barely able to keep their eyes open. 

You walk beside Maya, Gucci walking in front of you on the leash you hold tightly. She groans when she sees her staff, “I can’t believe I have another fuckin’ day of this shit.”

“One more day, honey,” you say, hand running over her back. “One more day.”

__________

Later that night, the rest of the executives arrive. By now, your hangovers are more or less gone, and Maya’s almost completely lost her patience with her staff.

A final run-through of the presentation finishes by ten and soon the six of you (seven with Gucci) are filing into the lobby of the hotel. As you pile into the elevator, Sal backs himself into the far left corner in an attempt to get as far from Gucci as possible.

When the doors open to the floor with all of your suites, Matt leads. “Alright, everyone, old school Hollywood party starts at midnight! Dave Franco will be there, and that motherfucker knows how to party.”

__________

70’s and 80’s pop plays from a bluetooth speaker.

“That’s a lot of hair clips,” you gawk.

Maya gives you a turn, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I know, it’s fire right? Look at this Kool-Aid one. I had it custom made.”

You sit on the edge of the bed with Gucci asleep beside you as Maya shows off her outfit. When she walks over, she leans in close, bracing her hands on your knees. “By the way, I’m quite enjoying what you’re wearing tonight.”

She bites her lip and her eyes drift down to your chest where the low cut neckline of your dress exposes your cleavage. “If we didn’t have a party to go to, I’d probably take you right here, right now.”

__________

“Oh, good, she didn’t bring the cat!��

Maya glares at Sal, lit joint in one hand, drink in the other. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Sal.”

The party is in full swing by 12:30am. Loud music blares from the speakers, the sound of martini shakers cut through at the bar, and Dave Franco is high on everything available to him in the room.

Patty, who’s the only sober one there, looks disgusted–or that’s just her face. Either way she’s the designated trip-sitter and she’s just barely tolerating it. 

Over at the snack table, there’s a vast array of choices. Fruity candies, finger foods, and a platter of chocolates. You and Maya stand there with drinks–and Maya with a burn out joint still in between her fingers.

“I mean, it all looks so good,” Maya breathes.

You pick up one of the chocolates and inspect it. There’s a light dusting of what looks like raspberry powder, another chocolate that looks like caramel in the middle, and another that looks like it has a peppermint swirl. 

You take a decent sized bite of it, chewing it carefully. It melts in your mouth just like any chocolate would, but there’s something weird about it. You hand it over to Maya. “Does this chocolate taste weird to you?”

She takes a bite and thinks hard “I don’t think so…It has kind of an earthy flavor.”

“Maybe, that’s just like…the aftertaste of the weed,” you shrug.

“That might be it,” Maya says, and puts the rest of the chocolate in her mouth. “But this tastes more like…dirt.” And despite the chocolate tasting faintly of dirt, she puts the rest of it in her mouth.

“You just ate my fucking chocolate! What the hell?”

“Just get another one,” Maya scoffs.”There’s plenty to go around, babe.”

She takes another one and eats it in one bite. And when she hands you one of the mint-chocolate ones, you pop it in your mouth. “This one tastes better than that one.”

By 1am, you feel completely relaxed. And by 2am, sounds have color and colors have tastes. You stand with Quinn in the hallway after she pulled you aside and started talking randomly.

“I mean, I just don’t get it,” she shrugs, and shoves a piece of chocolate in her mouth. “Why would they willingly do that? The cave could be called ‘The Devil’s Asscrack’ with a zero percent survival rate and they’ll still dive in, no hesitation.”

“We could totally make a movie about this,” you nod.

“We could!” Quinn’s eyes light up. “We could get Christopher Nolan to direct it! Or Kathryn Bigelow!”

And through your laughter you can feel Maya’s eyes on you. She’s across the room at the bar, teeth chewing on the straw in her drink as she stares at you with that seductive look that always makes you fold.

Maya sets her drink down and makes her way over to you. She says nothing and instead takes your hand and drags you behind her and into the bathroom.

“Maya, what are you doing, I was just tal–!” You can’t finish your sentence, because soon, you’re pushed against the wall and her lips are on yours.

“You’re so fucking hot in this tiny dress of yours,” she huffs. Her hands run over every inch of your body. “I wanna fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”

“In this bathroom?” you ask, smirking into her mouth and grabbing at her ass. 

Maya grimaces. “Fuck no, this bathroom hasn’t been cleaned in days, and every inch of this room is probably covered in cocaine dust. Let’s go back to our suite.”

She takes your hand before you can protest and as soon as you leave the bathroom, you’re stopped.

“Oh, thank god!”

Matt is out of breath with Sal and Quinn following behind them.

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

He’s rushing past you both, “I’m fine!”

“You look like you’re gonna throw up!” Maya calls, following him with you. “Are you gonna throw up?”

“No!” Matt cries, and there’s sweat spilling down his face. “I’m fine! I just haven’t taken shrooms in a long time! I’m just high, I think!”

All five of you pile through the door of a bedroom.

“Aw, is baby having a bad trip?” Maya pouts, mocking him endlessly. 

She falls onto the bed and you follow, laying beside her giggling. “The poor thing.”

Sal and Quinn stand there watching, both of them out of breath too.

“Honey, we’re all high as fuck,” Maya says. “You just gotta…you just gotta roll with it, bitch.”

Your head is on Maya’s stomach now as her hands rest over your face. Her fingers mindlessly trace over all of your features as you laugh at the feeling.

“You’re hiding something!” Sal says, pointing at him.

“No, I’m not!” Matt cries.

“Yes, you are! I can see it,” Sal insists, aggressively pointing now.” Right there! I can see it in your eyes! What are you hiding?”

Matt clutches his hair and groans, looking like he’s about to vomit. “I’m not hiding anything!”

Quinn stands next to him, hand on his back as she comforts him. “You gotta release the wave, you’ll feel so much better! Just release! Let it go!”

“Don’t do it on the carpet!” Maya shouts. “It’s beige!”

She sits up slightly and takes her coat off. And when she lays back down, she repositions your head in her lap. 

“Okay,” Matt says, panting as he speaks, “the reason Griffin is getting so fucked up is…they’re trying to sell Continental to Amazon.”

Maya cackles as she holds your face. “Wait, are you fucking kidding me?”

“I just got my job back a month ago!” you laugh.

“I know!” Matt cries.

“I went to the fuckin’ airport to get you back,” Maya cackles, out of breath from how hard the both of you are laughing. 

“How could you not tell me?” Sal shouts. “Bro, bro bro!”

“I’m sorry!” Matt whimpers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Quinn starts sobbing.”I finally get a fucking movie green-lit and they scrap the fucking studio! Come on!”

“Don’t worry, hon!” Maya laughs. “You’ll have more time for your fanfiction now!”

Matt turns in circles, looking at all of you and trying to calm down the storm he just made–you and Maya are laughing like idiots, Sal’s enraged, and now Quinn is sobbing as she shoves more chocolate in her mouth.

“They’re not scrapping the studio!” Matt shouts. “Look, everything is gonna be fine, because tomorrow at CinemaCon, we are gonna give the presentation of our lives. That’s why I didn’t tell you guys anything!” He starts to talk rapidly, panting through each word. “If this presentation goes off without a hitch, they can’t sell us! Don’t you see? They can’t!”

Maya groans loudly and you giggle as you feel the vibrations in her. “No! Our presentation is not gonna go off well! Our CEO is fucked up, dude!”

“The presentation is in, what, like seven hours?” you huff.

Sal grabs Matt by the shoulders. “You need to go tell Griffin that he needs to go to bed for a few hours!”

Matt turns to Quinn in a panic. “Will you do it for me?”

“Suck it the fuck up, boss boy!” Quinn shouts, and you and Maya howl with laughter. Quinn gasps, “I am so sorry! Tha came out so mean! I had a really strong microdose!”

Matt turns to the two of you and doesn’t say anything. You look up at him and giggle. “Don’t ask us to do your dirty work for you! Maya Magdalene and I aren’t gonna do shit!”

Maya’s hand clasps over your mouth and you laugh. “I told you not to tell them!”

“Your middle name is Magdalene?” Sal laughs.

“No!” Maya shouts. “It’s not!”

You giggle and take her hand away from your mouth, placing a tiny kiss on her palm. “Isn’t it cute?”

Maya groans loudly. “Fuck!”

“Okay!” Matt huffs. “I’ll handle this! But not a word to anybody! This stays in our cone of silence!”

“The five of us and Patty,” Sal nods.

“No!” Matt says quickly. “Do not tell Patty! She’s doing so well. She’s flying high, she’s back on her feet, and I don’t wanna bring her down.” His demeanor changes quickly, puffing out his chest and acting tough. “We got this. We can fix this!”

You and Maya sit up and stagger off the bed as Matt leaves the room.

“Should we follow him?” Sal asks.

Matt pokes his head back in. “Follow me!”

You and Maya trail behind Sal and Quinn and when they’re further down the hall and out of sight, you push Maya in the wall.

“I’m so fucking horny right now,” you huff into her mouth, tongue brushing hers.

“Fuck,” she sighs, kissing you hard. When she pulls away she looks down the corridor to make sure the coast is clear. “Alright, let’s go back to our room. They’ll be preoccupied for a couple hours.”

You drag her behind you as you both laugh, leaving the penthouse suite to find your own. When you’re in the room, the freezing air conditioning sends a chill through you and she grins..

“I’m gonna go put the cat in the bathroom,” she huffs. “Take off your clothes.”

When Maya returns from the bathroom, her ponytail extension and hair accessories are gone. On top of the unmade bed, you sit against the headboard in the lingerie she specifically requested you wear tonight. As she walks over, now only in her underwear and bra, you watch her eyes grow dark.

The kiss she presses to your lips feels a thousand times better than any other kiss she’s given you, and you feel like you could cum just from the feeling. You grab her shoulders tightly, pulling her in closer and locking your legs behind hers.

“Fuck,” you breathe against her, refusing to break away from her lips. “I am so fucking turned on right now.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” Maya seethes. Her hand travels up to your throat and then to your jaw. And when she finally–painfully–breaks away, her eyes are dark with lust. “Do you wanna try something?”

You smile as you nod, completely out of breath. “Yeah.”

Maya sits back on her knees, hand still holding your jaw as she speaks softly. “I want to watch you touch yourself as you spell my name.”

“Your name?” you repeat.

She nods. “Mhm. My full name. Out loud.”

“Even your middle name?” you whine.

Maya leans in close and kisses you lightly. When she pulls away, some of the lust in her gaze has been replaced with adoration. “Especially my middle name.”

She lets go of your chin and reaches down to take off your underwear, and when she tosses them aside she opens your legs slowly. “Every time you mess up, you have to start over again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you grin.

“Good girl,” she says, and sits back just enough so that she can watch you. “Now, touch yourself.”

Maintaining eye contact with her, you snake your hand down and start running your fingers through your folds. 

“Look how wet you are already,” she breathes, leaning back on her hands. Your eyes shut when your fingers start circling your clit and she taps your ankle. “Ah, ah. Eyes open, baby. Start spelling.”

You look into her eyes, chest rising and falling quickly as you continue touching yourself. You take a deep breath before starting to spell out her name. “M-A-Y-A-M-A-G-D-A-L-E-N-E-M-A-S-O-N.”

“Good,” Maya says softly. “Again.”

You spell out her name again, just barely managing to get through it. But the combination of the alcohol and whatever drugs are in your system, quickly cloud your head. You let out a breathy moan as your fingers slip inside yourself. “M-A-Y-A-M-G–Fuck!”

Maya grins wickedly and sighs. “Start over.”

You take a deep breath, and as you start spelling out her name you notice her own hand slinking down to her panties. “...D-E-L–Uh–”

Your eyes drop to her hand as she starts touching herself. “Eyes up, honey,” she commands softly. “Look straight at me. Continue.”

In your current condition, the sensation of your fingers fucking yourself is like no other you’ve experienced. As you continue, messing up the spelling of Maya’s name repeatedly, it’s becoming harder and harder to focus.

“M-A-Y-A–oh my god–!”

“Focus. Restart.”

And then there’s Maya herself, who sits in front of you, hand in her underwear as the other holds on to your ankle for support. She doesn’t close her eyes–instead, they bear right into yours, unwavering as she moans with you.

“...M-A-G-D-A-L-E-N-E-M-A-S–um–oh fuck!”

Maya pouts condescendingly. “Poor baby…start over…”

“I wanna cum,” you breathe. “Please, I wanna cum.”

Maya lets out a quiet moan and you can see the outline of her hand as she curls her fingers. “No,” she says, and you whine. “Spell my name with no mistakes and I’ll let you cum.”

You start spelling her name, but you speed up each letter until she stops you. “Slower!” she says sternly, her own breath catching in her throat. 

You start over, eyes locked on with Maya’s and the letters coming out slower through whines. “...M-A-S-O-N.”

Your legs are trembling as you whimper. “Please, please, please…”

“Wait for me, baby,” she breathes.

You’re almost sobbing now as you grind on your own fingers, jaw tense as you hold back your impending orgasm. “Maya, please,” you cry. “I need to cum!”

“Almost there,” she says, swallowing hard and moaning. “Be a good girl. Hold it.”

“Maya! I can’t–!”

“Yes you can!”

It feels like an eternity, but when she finally utters those words it’s worth the wait.

“Cum with me, baby,” she huffs. “You can do it, be a good girl.”

Now you’re glad you got a separate room from the penthouse suite. Not once had you screamed this loud, shaking uncontrollably through your moans and tears. You curse loudly and cry out Maya’s name as her nails dig into your leg. All of your senses–the sounds of Maya moaning in front of you, the smell of sex in the air, the dim light from the lamps, the aftertaste of the joint you shared with Maya, the feel of her nails piercing your skin–throws you into a feeling of euphoria.

Maya leans forward and pulls you into a heated, filthy kiss. Her fingers dig into the base of your hairline, tugging at your hair and moaning. “I think that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

You giggle into the kiss, completely out of breath. “We’ll have to have more spelling bees then.”

You don’t know how much time has passed. You lie in bed with Maya, head fuzzy and shapes dancing in your vision. There’s a loud knock on the door of your suite. Maya groans and pulls you in closer. There’s another knock and then a shout with familiar muffled voices following.

“Let us in!”

“I’m going in.”

“Sal, don’t go in!”

“Shut up, Quinn!”

“They’re probably fucking! Sal, no–!”

The door opens abruptly and Sal storms in. “Oh, Jesus Christ!”

“What the fuck?” Maya shouts.

“See?” Quinn says, walking in. “I told you!”

Maya glares at Sal. “What the fuck do you want?”

Before he responds Patty trapses in behind them. “Alright, Matt’s–Oh, for god’s sake!”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, hands over your face. “Get out.”

“No, we have an emergency!” Sal panics. “Put your fuckin’ clothes back on! Griffin’s missing!”

“Where the fuck did he go?” Maya cries. “The presentation is in–what time is it?”

“Almost five,” Quinn says.

“Oh, fuck me!” Maya shouts, groaning in frustration. “Okay, get out, let us get dressed.”

Through the commotion, the sound of meowing in the bathroom goes unnoticed. Patty opens the door and Gucci meows up at her. She sighs and leans down, picking him up. 

“Alright…” she says, her voice babying him. “I’m gonna put you in my room for the night because your mamas are not suitable enough to take care of you right now. Isn’t that right? Yes, it is. You are such a good kitty.”

Breathless, you and Maya run down the corridor to meet everyone at the elevator. When you get there, Matt looks confused.

“Why are you two in different clothes?” he asks.

Without hesitation, Maya says, “She threw up.”

“I threw up…” you agree. “On…both of us…”

“It doesn’t matter! They were fucking, Matt!” Sal shouts. “Now, let’s go!”

Maya holds her hand out. “Wait! No, no! What the fuck is happening?”

It’s quiet now, and everyone looks at Matt. 

“Um…” He hesitates. “The chocolates that I put out were not…microdoses.”

You and Maya look at each other. “Excuse me?”

“The shroom chocolates,” Matt clarifies, looking at you awkwardly. “They’re seven grams each.”

Maya’s jaw drops. “Is that why I’m so fucking high?” she screams. “You drugged us? I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Zoë Kravitz had three,” Matt mutters.

Your jaw drops.

“Griffin had seven,” Matt says.

“Oh my god, Matt!” you shout. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“A man in his sixties should not have that much in his system!” Maya cries out.

“He’s eighty-two!” Sal and Quinn say simultaneously.

It just keeps getting worse.

“Are you trying to kill him, Matt?” Maya asks, stepping closer so she’s now in his face. “His heart’s gonna explode.”

“It’s not gonna explode,” Matt trembles.

“Yes it is,” Maya insists. “His heart’s gonna explode, and you’re gonna be a murderer. Murder! You’re gonna be a murderer–!”

You pull her back quickly. “Okay, none of this is making progress!” You look around.”Where’s Patty?”

Quinn pipes up, “She took Gucci to her room.”

“Okay, I guess I give her permission to do that,” Maya shrugs.

Patty rounds the corner then and sighs. “Oh good, you two are here. Did they catch you up?”

The six of you pile into the elevator. It’s cramped and hot, and when Quinn sees a trail of the queso Griffin left on the wall, she drags her finger through it and puts it in her mouth. She grimaces at the taste and Maya looks at her in awe.

“Why would you put that in your mouth?” she asks.

Quinn whimpers. “I don’t know.”

By the time you find Griffin, the sun has already risen. Quinn, Sal, and Matt carry his almost lifeless upright through the hotel lobby. 

“Okay,” Maya huffs. “We’re gonna go to his room and we’re gonna get his bag—”

“No!” Sal snaps. “You two are just gonna end up fucking again!”

“No we’re not!” you cry, and then your voice evens out. “We’re gonna wait until tonight. Come on, Maya.”

At the height of your high now, the colors of the casino are practically throwing themselves at you. Both of you are out of breath from simply walking, and the second those elevator doors close, Maya’s launching herself at you

“I wanna take you back to our suite again so fucking badly,” she says, lips skimming down your neck and sucking bruises into the skin.

“No,” you breathe, back arching at the feeling of her teeth on your neck. “I do not want to prove him right!”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Maya groans. “That insufferable fucking asshole.”

Maya grimaces as you look through Griffin’s room. “Ew! Nobody should ever have to see their boss’s girdle. Oh, thank god. I found the bag.”

The both of you run through the penthouse suite to get to the rest of the group. When you find them, they’re hauling a limp Griffin into the bathroom. 

“I’ve got his bag!” Maya pants. 

Matt takes it from her quickly and unzips it. “We got his clothes!”

Sal peaks out of the bathroom. “Is there a turtleneck?”

“Uh—Maybe—?” Matt digs through the bag and pulls out a piece of tan clothing. “What the fuck is this? A dickey, or—here just take it!”Sal grabs it from Matt and he continues looking through the bag. “Let’s see, what else do we need…”

“Underwear!” Sal shouts desperately. 

“Yeah, I’m not sure about that,” Maya scowls. 

Matt takes out what looks like a speedo and Wuinn takes it to give to Sal. But before she hands them over, she sniffs them and gags. “Oh, god!”

“Why would you smell them?” Maya asks in an outrage. 

“It’s habit!” Quinn cries. 

The four of you dig through the bag more until Patty knocks on the door. “Sal? Are you okay in there?”

The door opens and Sal pokes his head out, sneering. “No! I’m not okay! I’m stuffing my boss’s balls into a speedo and it’s taking fucking forever because his dick is fucking huge!”

You all stop what you’re doing. 

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

“I knew he was hung.”

“He walks like he is.”

When Sal brings Griffin out of the bathroom, everyone cheers. You help him into the bedroom and lay him down on the couch, but nobody has a clue what to do with him. He’s half naked in a speedo and garters, and he’s wearing what looks like a waist trainer. 

“Okay, well what the fuck do we do with him now?” you ask.

Maya leans forward, trying to cover up his chest with the thin undershirt he’s wearing. “Here, let’s cover up his nipples. Cover them up.”

You watch as Matt leaves with Patty, and with no hesitation you follow them. “Where the fuck are you going?” 

“Checking on Zoë!” Matt calls back. 

When you enter, Zoë is standing on top of her nightstand. “It’s so high up!” she whines. When she sees Matt, she gasps. “Matt, is this high?”

“What is going on in here?” Matt sighs. 

The makeup artists around her look exasperated. 

“She won’t come down!” one of them complains. “She says it’s too high.”

“It’s so high up!” Zoë cries. “It’s so far away!”

By now, Matt is entirely fed up. “I don’t know what to tell you, Zoë! It’s not that high up!”

“Can you show me?” she asks. “Because this is crazy!”

Patty bends down and takes a heel off the floor, holding it up to Zoë. “Zo-Zo! Do you see this shoe?”

“Yeah…?”

“Well,” Patty chirps, “this nightstand is only four shoes high!”

Zoë looks at her and laughs. “Four shoes high? What are you even saying?”

You turn to Matt. “Yeah, alright, you can deal with this.”

You leave without letting him or Patty protest. And when you get half way down the hall, you smile as Maya rushes towards you. “What’s ha—?”

And for the hundredth time tonight, she has you pinned against the wall, mouth devouring yours.

“Maya, we need—” She kisses you again. “—to stop doing this.”

But, god, you don’t want to. 

“You’re just so fucking hot,” she breathes. “I know I’ve said it multiple times tonight, but Jesus fucking Christ, you drive me fucking crazy.”

“What the fuck!” Sal shouts, stomping down the hallway. “You two are like fucking rabbits! Stop it!”

“Stop watching!” You shout back, still pressed against the wall.

“Yeah!” Maya yells. “Perv!”

When you’re back in the bedroom, Quinn is brushing Griffin’s teeth and talking to him calmly. Panic ensues as you contemplate what to do with him. Sal perks up, gasping as he reaches into his pocket. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Cocaine!! Let’s give him cocaine! Up his nose!”

Matt scrunches his eyebrows. “Will that really work?”

“Yes!” Quinn says quickly. “It worked in the movie Flight!”

“That’s right!” Matt says. “Denzel Washington did all that cocaine and then testified in front of the FAA!”

“Are we gonna Flight his ass right into the presentation?” Maya says, hyping them up. You gather around him, Maya insisting to Quinn that she cover up his nipple. “Alright, you hold his head still, honey,” she says to you.

“Close his mouth, Matt!” Sal demands. “I need his mouth closed, otherwise he’ll blow!” And when everything is in place, he dumps the tiny vial of cocaine onto his hand and presses it to Griffin’s nose. 

“Yeah, shove it in there!” Maya cheers. 

Matt whoops. “Get it in there, baby!” 

It happens almost immediately. Griffin launches himself off of the couch in a frenzy as everyone celebrates. 

“Let’s do this!!” Griffin screams. “Yeah!!!”

There’s a flicker of hope for the first time in twelve hours, but it diminishes just as quickly. It’s pandemonium when Patty brings Zoë out. An identity crisis of mythical proportions takes over her as she screams and cries on the floor, and then Griffin drops like a fly. 

“Look alive people!” Tyler marches in, wearing a pristine designer suit and looking much cleaner than all of you. “We have a—what the fuck is going on here?”

__________

You and Maya almost didn’t make it down to the backstage. You both felt absolutely disgusting after the night you had, and Maya had the brilliant plan to shower—together. 

“To save water,” she had said. 

“If we shower together, we’ll be wasting more water than if we had showered separately,” you scoffed. 

“So is that a no?”

“Absolutely not. Take off your clothes. I’m showering with you.”

And, as always, a shower with Maya is never just a shower with Maya. 

This time, you ended up on your knees as Maya—dripping wet in more ways than one—moaned and shook above you. And then there was after the shower, where your highs were slowly tapering off while your towel was being ripped off.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” she mumbled into your mouth, lifting you up and placing you on the bathroom counter. 

As her lips returned to your neck you gasped into the feeling, “Maya, it’s almost nine. We need—fuck—we need to get ready.”

And you did get ready—after cumming once and receiving two new bruises at the base of your neck and shoulder. 

You step out of the backstage elevators Through the dark black lights, the both of you rush over to your dysfunctional team of colleagues. 

“Nice hickie,” Sal mumbles. 

You elbow him hard in his ribs. “Mind your own fucking business for once.”

Maya grins, wrapping her arm around your waist. “You’re just jealous she gets more action than you.” 

__________

It’s a miracle that you managed to pull this off. It’s a miracle that Zoë did the presentation flawlessly. It’s a miracle that Griffin is somehow still alive. 

Perhaps, after this CinemaCon, Continental Studios might just be saved. 

You’ve never seen Maya so relaxed in your life. The next four days of Las Vegas are filled with spa appointments, drinking, gambling, and sex—morning, noon, and night. Your last day is far more relaxed though, spent with the cat in the suite while pestering room service. 

You lay in bed with Maya at noon. Both of you are wrapped in plush hotel robes with nothing underneath. You flick through the TV channels lazily as Maya talks on the phone with room service, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. 

“Yeah…and can I get…oh, they come with that? Fire. Yeah, and let’s get two mimosas and can you bring a whole bottle of champagne too? Thanks. Alright, thank you.”

An hour later there’s a knock on the door from room service. Maya forces you to stay in bed, insisting that she answers the door. The cart of food and beverages are rolled in and the man at the door receives his tip. Maya hands you the mimosa she ordered you, clinking your glass and giving you a wink. 

You’re at the height of contentment like this–laying amidst a pile of pillows, legs crossed, one hand occupied with a mimosa and the other behind your head. Maya crawls back into bed beside you and you notice one of the many plates in her hand.

“What’s that you got there?” you ask, setting your glass down on the nightstand. When she opens it your eyebrows raise. “Chocolate covered strawberries? Oh, how romantic.”

There’s a glint in Maya’s eyes as she gives you a sly smile. “I know.”

She leans over you on her elbow, strawberry in between her fingers as she puts it to your lips. You take a small bit and let her have the rest , and as she chews you giggle to yourself. 

“You know, as painful of a start this trip had, it turned out pretty damn great,” you say.

Maya sets the strawberry stem aside and drapes her arm over your waist. “It got even better when Matt and Sal left.”

“It did,” you giggle. “Gambling is much more fun with Patty.”

“Because she let us bring Gucci,” Maya says. “Everyone loved seeing a cat in the casino. Sal’s just boring.”

“I bet he’d be really good at poker,” you muse.

Maya looks behind at her at Gucci, who’s fast asleep on the bed. “I dunno. I think he’d be more of a roulette guy.”

You smile and pull her in for a quick kiss. “Like mother, like son.”

[p0orbaby]

Tropicana with the Bits

summary: honeymoon sex on a boat? yes fucking please

warnings: SMUT 18+, public sex (boat), strap-on use, use of a camera, spit, spanking, dom!ale vibes

a/n: this has been sat half cooked in my draft for a while. a certain blonde’s performances in the olympics have spurred me to finish it…

word count: 1.4k

-

This is the fucking life.

The sun. The sea. And a ‘24 quadruple under your belt.

Oh, and a shiny new ring and a brand new wife to tie everything up nicely.

Like a lazy, spoiled cat, you stretch out on the deck of the yacht, the gentle rocking of the boat a sleep-inducing background rhythm. The Mediterranean sun kisses your skin, leaving a warm, tingling sensation that pairs well with the salt of the sea air. A soft breeze rustles the pages of a magazine you’ve abandoned, and the distant squawk of gulls mingles with the sound of waves lapping against the hull. You close your eyes, letting the tranquility wash over you.

Alexia commands the helm, her presence undeniable even in stillness. Dressed in a white linen shirt, unbuttoned to reveal her abs and the curves of her breasts, and a harness snug against her hips, she looks like a wild, untamed champion. The breeze teases her hair, and her eyes meet yours with a predatory gaze.

You think back to the first time you met her on the pitch. Mature for her age, dominating the midfield with grace and power, even back then. And you hated it. You hated how she skipped past you like you were nothing. Discarding you like you were dirt on the bottom of her boots.

She was so effortlessly good, it drove you mad.

Mad to the point that there wasn’t a second that went by that your thoughts weren’t filled with one Alexia putellas. Her smirk emblazoned on the inside of you eyeless every time you tried to sleep. Her intensity clouding your head enough to make you miss simple passes, your concentration shattered by the mere thought of her. She haunted your dreams and invaded your waking moments, a constant, maddening presence.

And things haven’t really changed.

She looks at you with that same intensity, but you know it’s because she’s thinking about what position she likes you in best, not the fastest way in which she can embarrass you on the grass. Your brain is still plagued by the thought of her, but now you know what she’s hiding underneath those jerseys, so your brain fog is warranted.

You are certain your wife is made by the gods themselves.

Leaving the wheel, she approaches with a slow, deliberate stride. Her shirt billows open, exposing more of her tanned skin and the black strap-on jutting proudly from her hips. The sight sends a rush of heat through you, your body aching for her touch.

Or aching from how much she has touched thus far into your honeymoon. You can’t tell, and you don’t care to. This is your time to celebrate, to relax and enjoy your freedom. Her touch, her voice, her presence—everything about Alexia drives you wild with desire. You remember the late-night whispers and her mischievous grin when she suggested bringing a camera on this trip. The memories of your wedding night flood back, the way she took you on the balcony of your suite, moonlight caressing your intertwined bodies.

This time, there’s a camera set up in the corner, its lens catching the light like a voyeur. A wedding gift from you to her, both the camera and its purpose. The idea of being filmed, of capturing these intimate moments forever, had always excited her, and after years of her playful begging, you finally relented.

So here you are, as naked as the day you were born, squirming slightly as anticipation coils in your belly.

Alexia kneels beside you, her hands cool against your heated skin as she traces patterns on your stomach. The strap brushes against your thigh, a teasing promise of what she has in store for you. She leans down, her lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. Her tongue explores your mouth, her teeth grazing your lower lip, and you melt into her. Her other hand grips your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck, where she leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses.

She pulls back, her eyes dark with desire. “¿Estás preparada?” she murmurs, her voice a low growl. You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. She smirks, her fingers trailing down your body to part your thighs. Her touch is confident, experienced, each stroke designed to drive you wild. She pauses, glancing at the camera, her eyes gleaming with excitement before returning her focus to you.

The first thrust is slow, deliberate, the strap filling you inch by inch. You gasp, your hands clutching at her shoulders, your nails digging into her skin through her shirt. She moves with a rhythm that’s almost hypnotic, each stroke driving you higher, closer to the edge. The feeling of the silicone inside you, combined with the solid deck beneath you and the gentle rocking of the yacht, is almost too much to bear.

Alexia leans down, her breath hot against your ear. “Te ves tan jodidamente bien,” she whispers, her voice rough with arousal. The words send a thrill through you, your body tightening around the strap. She grins, a feral expression, and picks up the pace, her hips snapping against yours with increasing intensity. She’s putting on a show, not just for you but for the camera, her movements precise and deliberate.

She pauses for a moment, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting back in hard, eliciting a sharp cry from you. “You like that, don’t you?” she taunts, her voice dripping with dominance. “You love being fucked like this, being watched.” Her words make you moan louder, pleasure and embarrassment making your skin flush.

Alexia’s hand slides between your legs, her fingers finding your clit and rubbing in slow, torturous circles. “Beg for it,” she demands, her voice firm. When you hesitate, she smacks your thigh, the sting sharp and thrilling. “I said beg for it”

“Please, Ale,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “Please, fuck me harder”

She smirks, clearly pleased with your response. “Buena chica,” she purrs, increasing the pressure on your clit as she resumes thrusting, harder and faster this time. Your moans grow louder and you’re certain you have just disturbed a flock of Caspian Tern.

Alexia grabs your hips, lifting them slightly to change the angle, each thrust hitting deeper, making you see stars, galaxies, andromeda. Her free hand moves to your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath catch, causing you to suck in breaths when she’s too distracted to press at your windpipe.

“Such a pretty sight,” she murmurs, glancing at the camera again. “All spread out and desperate for me”

She leans down, spitting on your chest and rubbing it into your skin with rough, possessive strokes. “Mine,” she growls, her eyes burning with intensity.

You can barely form a coherent thought, your entire world narrowed down to the relentless rhythm of her hips, the firm grip on your throat, and the fiery trail her spit leaves on your skin. Each thrust pushes you closer to the infinity, the pressure building inside you like a ticking time bomb.

Alexia’s hand moves from your throat to your ass, delivering a sharp slap that makes you cry out. “Take it,” she commands, her voice scratchy with arousal and sharp with authority. “Take everything I give you”

You nod frantically, your body on fire with need. She slaps you again, harder this time, the pain mingling with the pleasure in a deliciously heady mix. Her movements become almost brutal, each thrust sending shockwaves through you, your orgasm building to an almost unbearable intensity.

“Look at me,” she commands, her voice a growl that sends another wave of pleasure through you. You force your eyes open, meeting her gaze. The intensity there is almost too much to bear, a conflagration of desire and possessiveness that leaves you breathless. She smirks, pleased with your obedience, and redoubles her efforts, her hips driving into you with unrelenting force.

When you finally come, it’s with a force that leaves you shaking, your entire body tensing and then releasing like spring that’s snapped under the weight of pleasure. Alexia doesn’t stop, drawing out your orgasm, riding it out until you’re a quivering, boneless mess beneath her.

Only then does she slow, her movements gentle, soothing, as she helps you come down from the high. She leans in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, a stark contrast to the fire behind her movements just seconds ago.

Finally spent, she collapses beside you, pulling you into her arms. You nestle against her, your head resting on her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. Her hand strokes your back, a comforting rhythm that lulls you into a state of blissful contentment. The gentle rocking of the yacht, the warmth of her body against yours, it’s all perfect, a cocoon of love and satisfaction. Alexia glances over at the camera, a satisfied smile playing on her lips, before she whispers, “This is just the beginning”