#but chris having the juiciest ass?

[stinkfacestories]

A message from the top two...

Big show and Pratt are still trading off who's in first place. Here is their final message to you on this last day of voting Pratt: Whats up guys, Chris Pratt here. First I want to thank everyone who voted for me. each time I would see that number go up I would order a big plate of greens and some five guys. I may not do it often in the shows, and blockbuster movies im in, but you guys know that I am the ass busting king. I am a legend behind the scenes. I have gassed more sound guys, and camera operators that you know. On the set of Jurassic World the animal handler had me stand next to the animals because he said 'now people wont blame THEM for the smell'. So come on guys, keep those votes coming, I really want to answer your questions and tell you some of my behind the scenes gas stories Big Show: Hey guys, the one, the only, THE BIG SHOW here. I saw that Pratt keeps over taking me, but let me spell out why you should pick me. One, I am a legend, not just in WWE and AEW, but in the wrestling world as a whole. I was farting in jobbers faces ever since my first am-pro days, and I didnt stop there. I could list the dozens of times you've seen me give the stinkface, or the times ive ripped ass on WWE behind the scenes. But Ive been saving the juiciest for this AMA. If you pick me, maybe ill give one of you lucky guys an interview-- though it might be hard to hear the questions with my farting ass in your face the whole time. Peace and Love guys.

[sparkie96]

From the prompt list taking off jacket to reveal side wound with chreon? Pretty please?

If he hadn’t been bleeding out or hurt this badly, Leon would never have come here, to the European BSAA HQ of all places. He would normally have shaken it off, sucked it up and then went to the nearest bar or restaurant to celebrate a “Job Well Done”before passing out in his hotel room. But, considering this mission had gone South and now there were bad men chasing him, and Leon’s hotel had been trashed and thoroughly compromised, he didn’t have very many options. 

Mainly, because he would most likely die before he even made it to the extraction point, whether that be due to him bleeding out...or slowing down and getting caught by the assholes chasing him. 

He hadn’t meant to run face first into Chris as soon as he stepped foot in the building. Honest, he hadn’t. 

“What the...Leon?!” Chris asked, eyes wide in shock as strong hands gripped Leon’s shoulders to steady the agent, “What the hell are you doing here?” 

Leon looked from Chris to the door behind him, “N-not safe out there…” Leon grunted in pain, “I...I fucked up. Need help…” 

Chris didn’t need to hear any more than that, scooping Leon up into his arms before hollering for a medic. 

Leon hissed and grunted loudly, smacking the man’s shoulder repeatedly as he carried him inside, “Watch my side, you ass!” 

“Shit...I’m sorry.” Chris apologized, setting Leon down on a gurney outside of the Infirmary, “Let me see.” 

Leon winced as he slowly and carefully shrugged off his jacket, the leather jacket falling off of his shoulders. Chris’s eyes widened in horror at the blood blossoming through the thin material of Leon’s blue dress shirt. Where the blood had originated from, the material of the shirt had been ripped and shredded. 

“Leon,” Chris began, “Where did you get this? How did you get this?” 

Leon felt like his whole world was spinning, teeter-tottering on the brink of passing out. He swayed before the man, struggling to get the words out but having a bit of trouble. Chris seemed to pick up on it, asking Leon first about BOWs, Leon shaking his head and barely getting out that it wasn’t a BOW that did this to him. Chris helped him out of his shirt, ripping the front open, the buttons popping off and bouncing around on the floor. He all but tore the shirt off, ripping it with ease as though it were made of paper. 

“Jesus Christ…” Chris whispered as a medic finally came over, both Chris and the medic rolling Leon into an empty room, “Just hold on, alright? Stay with me.” 

Leon swam in and out of consciousness, the lights becoming too bright for his eyes. He tried to focus on Chris, the man talking to keep him awake. When Leon wasn’t lucid, Chris would shake him awake, gently patting his cheek until Leon’s dazed eyes opened and focused on him to the best of their ability. Leon felt a pinprick in his arm, people conversing all around him as they managed to change him out of his clothes and into a hospital gown. 

He managed to stay focused on Chris the whole time, the man holding his hand as Leon was rolled onto his uninjured side so they could work on his injured side. Chris talked to him about random things, sometimes serious things like how Claire and Sherry were doing to sillier things like restaurants and food. 

“If you stay conscious until it’s safe, I’ll buy you the juiciest Beef Wellington. You want that?” Chris asked, Leon blinking slowly and giving a lazy smile in response. Chris smiled fondly back before ruffling Leon’s hair, “Good, now stay with me Kennedy.” 

Leon nodded once more, “You’re so...pretty.” He said, weakly reaching out and touching Chris’s cheek with nimble fingers. 

Chris chuckled, “Really?” 

Leon nodded, “Uh huh.” He said, holding his hands up to show Chris the man’s size, “And huge!” He continued in a ditzy tone, “Big!” 

“I think you’re getting loopy.” Chris observed, chuckling as Leon’s finger booped his nose with a little “Boop!” 

“Alright, alright.” Chris said, gently catching Leon’s wrist in his hand before laying it down next to the younger, “You’re pretty too, y’know?” 

Leon pouted, “I’m not pretty...I’m beautiful.” 

“That too.” 

“Kiss me?” Leon asked, his lips puckering as he leaned toward Chris. 

Chris raised a brow, blushing slightly, “Uh...maybe we should have this conversation when you’re a bit more lucid.” 

“...Jerk.”

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans II- Chris Evans AU Chapter Three

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, heartbreak, angst, MILD SMUT, a little bit of infidelity (it doesn’t get that far but if this triggering to you, kindly don’t read.)

Disclaimers: I don’t condone relationships of this kind, this is for entertainment purposes only.

Word Count:  4, 122 words

Read Chapter Two Here!!

***

(Gif isn’t mine! Ugh who told him he could be so BEAUTIFUL?)

You tiptoe your way to the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible. Something stops you in your tracks as you near the kitchen, though. Two voices, hushed but clearly arguing bounce out of the kitchen walls. 

One is male and one is female and against your better judgment, you conceal your body behind the wall, eavesdropping on their argument.

Alright, so maybe not your proudest moment, but you couldn’t help yourself because you recognize one of the voices. The male one is Mr. Evans and the female one, well you can only assume it’s his girlfriend (if you could even call her that).

As you listen in, you wonder what they’re still doing here this late.

“Chris, I’m sick of you doing this shit to me,” she hisses.

“Doing what, Cassidy? Huh? Doing what!?” his voice increases in volume only a little bit but you can tell he’s utterly exasperated.

You flinch a bit at his tone, unable to help how much you hate when he’s upset.

She growls, gripping at her hair. “Ignoring me, dammit. Do you even care about me, Chris? I mean genuinely care for what I’m feeling? At all! God, all I really need to stay is for you to tell me you care about me, Chris,” her voice cracks. “I don’t even need you to tell me you love me,” she rasps.

Your heart races as you too await his response. Utter silence ensues and the tension rises.

He lets out a meek “I-”

Your breath catches and you lean in anxiety and curiosity peaking.

More silence, hard breathing. You lean closer. Closer. Closer. Close-

“Ah!” You yelp when you lose your footing and trip forward. You land on your knees and hands with a loud grunt as pain shoots through you.

“Shit!” you curse loudly, pushing yourself back so that your ass was pressing against your heels.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds confused as your head snaps up to them.

The brunette looks at you with a frown, but Mr. Evans looks on the brink of bursting out in laughter, his lips curled in a bemused smirk.

You at least have the decency to blush, smiling sheepishly as you begin to hoist yourself up.

“You okay?” Mr. Evans wordlessly and quickly runs over to your side, gripping your elbow to help you up. His other hand wraps around your waist, fingers brushing against your ribs. He whispers the question into your hair.

His hands are big and warm, familiar in the most exciting way. Can’t help it when your body gives the smallest shift to take in more of those hands of his.

You look up at him, hating how good his touch felt against your skin and how incredible his warmth felt as well.

Then your gazes lock and you almost forget what to say.

“I’m fine,” you finally mumble, snapping out of it as you tenderly shake his touch off and clear your throat, looking down at your bare feet.

God, could this situation get more awkward?

The woman, seemingly sensing the tension in the air, sighs, offering you a tiny smile.

“Well, I’m off to bed. Goodnight.” She gives Mr. Evans one last stare- conveying that this was not over, before walking out.

A beat of silence passes before he finally speaks, addressing the elephant in the room.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop you know, sweetheart...” he jests bemusedly.

You look up at him, smiling sheepishly as a blush rages madly on your face. “I’m sorry, I was just coming to get something to eat. I didn’t think there would be anyone here.” You bite your lip, shrugging meekly.

He watches you closely, licking his own lips before looking away with a smile and shake of his head.

“Anyway, thanks for saving me.”

You sigh, moving around him to reach the fridge. “Don’t even mention it...”

You lean down to scavenge for any leftovers, feeling a surge of pride when you find some pizza that looked relatively good.

You put it up to your nose, spinning around. “Hm, this smells pretty- Jesus fuck!” You yelp lightly, heart racing once more when you bump into Chris’s strong chest lightly.

You crane your neck to glare up at him. “What the hell is it with you sneaking up on me and invading my personal space?” you snarl.

He smirks that insufferable smirk he seemed to reserve just for you and a chill travels through you as his face tilts and nears yours, his eyes piercing right through you. “What is it with you listening in on private conversations?”

You scoff, stepping away from him truly because it was too damn much to have him this close, but you make it seem like it’s because you’re headed for the microwave to heat up your food.

“I already told you, I was just trying to get food when I heard you two speaking,” you lean up on your tiptoes to get two plates out.

You put two cold pizza slices on the plates and stick one into the microwave.  “And anyway, what are you still doing here?” you can’t help but snark, spinning around to face him with a brow raised.

He’s sitting on a stool by the counter and his eyes have clearly been trained on your ass. The thing is, unlike before when he would’ve blushed and looked away and acted like he hadn’t just been eye-fucking you, now he does nothing to hide it.

“Your father offered me the guest room for the night,” he answers simply, gaze unwavering.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap.

“Looking at you like what?” He feigns innocence and almost with deliberate laziness, he moves up your body with his eyes— letting you know that he’s not in the least ashamed of having been staring at you in the first place, much less of getting caught.

“Like that,” you grumble.

“Alright.” But he doesn’t stop, only looks at you more intensely and with more want than before.

This, for some reason, ignites a fire deep in your belly and you raise your brows at him, pointing to the pizza because you can’t let him know how turned on that fucking gaze makes you.

“You want a slice?”

He grins ominously. “How’d you know?”

You shrug, crossing your arms over your chest, deciding to bait him. “Arguing tends to make one hungry.”

He doesn’t take the bait, shoving a hand into his sweatpants’ pocket. “Oh? And you would know?”

Seeing that your strategy isn’t working, you decide honesty is the way to go. 

You blow a raspberry. “Are you kidding? It’s like, my dad and I’s thing.”

He chuckles, his eyes sharpening with interest. “Is that you and uh, Daniel’s thing too?”

You think he says the name with a just a little too much force. It could just be your ears playing a trick on you though.

You instantly look up at him, jaw dropped. “W-what?”

He doesn’t even spare you a glance, just stares down at his hands like they’re the most interesting things ever. “You really should keep your voice down when you talk on the phone.”

“How much of that conversation did you hear?” you murmur.

He shrugs. “Meh. Only all the juiciest bits.”

You regain your composure, determined not to give in to his attempts at making you feel out of control. Not that you needed much help with that when he was around, though.

“So we’ve got a case of the pot calling the kettle black on our hands. It’s rude to eavesdrop you know, Mr. Evans.” You use his words against him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but the loud beeping of the microwave cuts him off. You hold a finger up to signal him to hold that thought before you pull the plate out and put the other in. You bring the plate over to the table, sliding it over to him as you sat on the stool in front of him.

“So. You were giving me an excuse for why you were listening in on my private conversation?” You lean forward, feigning interest.

“I wasn’t. There is no excuse other than you were loudly talking about me so it’d be kinda hard not to listen in,” he responds honestly before his eyes flicker to yours, pinning you to place. “She’s right, you know?”

“Who?”

“Margo.” He responds curtly, taking a bite of his pizza slice.

“About what?” You push.

He swallows, putting the rest of the slice down as he looks at you. “About us,” he says matter-of-factly.

You immediately look away, unable to bear looking at him while he talked about an “us” like there even was one to begin with. And the worst part? You wanted so badly to ask him what he meant.

No, Y/n. The past remains in the past-- where it belongs.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

You expect him to agree. To take the chance to move away from the past and leave you there slightly disappointed but majorly relieved. But what he does instead shocks you.

“Well, I do,” he says firmly. Not an ounce of anger in him or even desperation. Just...solidity.

Your gaze snaps to his, fierce but clearly hurt. “But I don’t. So drop it.”

He stares at you for a minute too long before he finally relents in a shrug. He instead leans forward onto his elbows, clasping his fingers in front of him-- the picture of interested coolness.

“Fine, I will. But...‘just a schoolgirl crush’, really?”

“You sound offended,” you observe the ghost of a grin tugging at your lips.

He tries to shrug it off, but you can see his discomfort from miles away. “I’m not.” He takes a bite of the pizza, signaling the end of that conversation.

You sigh, crossing tucking one of your legs underneath you and motioning to the doorway with your head. “So. Pretty brunette-”

“Cassidy.”

“Cool.” You smile with sickly sweetness before snapping back to a serious expression. “What’s you guys’ deal, then?”

He takes another bite of pizza, eyes searching yours. “You heard, didn’t you? She thinks I don’t care about her.”

“You don’t seem all too broken up about that,” you mumble. “Do you care about her?”

He pauses his chewing, pondering for a few seconds, before slowly nodding. “I do.”

“So why couldn’t you tell her that?” you instantly ask, unable to hold back.

He looks at you with a smug grin. “Why can’t you have sex with this Daniel guy? Is he ugly or something?”

If his goal was to stump you, he’s achieved it.

Now, unable to express your embarrassment any other way, you grow angry.

“That’s none of your damn business, Chris.”

He doesn’t seem affected in the least by your rough tone. “Then mine isn’t yours either.”

You look at him for another second, trying to look out for any cracks in that wall only to come up empty once again. His face is perfectly composed- smugly calm.

There’s something so much more unabashedly raw and real and unadulterated about him now. He isn’t mild-mannered or outwardly sweet anymore- he’s raw and witty and smug.

He knows what he wants and how to get it; much like he did before, except now it was outwardly apparent and thought you could see glimpses of his sweet nature, it wasn’t the same as before. 

And my god, if that doesn’t just make him so much more fucking hot.

“Fair enough,” you finally relent, getting up to retrieve your pizza.

You bend down to get it from the microwave. “Do you want anything to wash that down with? There’s soda in the fridge and I’m pretty sure there’s some leftover beer somewhere in there.”

His eyes aren’t trained on your face though. Instead, they’re once more blatantly staring at your body. Your tits, to be specific.

You freeze, shocked. So shocked at his brazen actions, in fact, that you must even trace his gaze from his eyes to your boobs, just to make sure you’re not imagining this. When you realize this was really happening, your body immediately warms- both with excitement and irritation.

“Hey, are you listening to anything I’m saying?” you hiss, snapping your fingers in his face.

He looks up at you with a blank expression. “Not really, no.”

His gaze, in sharp contrast to his expression, was lighted with that fire you remembered oh-so-well, slick with lust and feral want- somehow so much more intense than it had ever been before.

Something in your shifts, like you know exactly what would ensue from this very moment. The look in his eyes. The emotions in your body....they were all too familiar.  

The air tenses with crackling energy in the air and even though you knew anyone could walk in at this moment, you couldn’t give less of a shit right now.

“It’s not fair for you to come here after two years and do this to me, sweetheart,” he rasps from deep in his throat as if he’s struggling to control himself.

Your breath catches at the intensity of his eyes as they make you feel like he can easily see right through your flimsy clothing. 

“I’m not doing anything,” you utter pathetically.

His gaze never leaves your body as he gradually stalks up to you. You can’t move, can’t speak, can’t think, can’t breathe- eyes locked in an infinite battle with his now dark blue ones. “Oh, trust me on this; you’re doing all sorts of things to me right now, sweetheart.”

And then his arms are caging you against the kitchen counter within a matter of seconds, what with the advantage of his long legs.

Your breath instantly catches at the sudden proximity and your heart clenches with something. This was the first time you’d had him close in over two years and fuck if it didn’t make your insides shift in all kinds of ways.

His scent is overwhelming, instantly hitting you in the face like a sucker punch, all warm and inviting and delicious and him. Gosh, you’d missed him.

You bite your lip in order to contain all the tiny sounds threatening to spill out of your mouth.

His nose brushes against yours softly and your stomach clenches.

“This isn’t right,” he rasps huskily and you instantly know what he’s referring to.

You should stop. You should remind him that his girlfriend was here just a few minutes ago and that your boyfriend was waiting for you at home. You should tell him how dangerous it was to play with fire like this and yet you don’t.

Because you wanted to get burnt. God, you wanted to get so deliciously hurt by him it’d ruin every other emotion for you.

You barely gasp, eyes fluttering half-way shut.

“When has it ever been right?” you breathe before you can even process what you’re saying, practically gasping for air.

He presses himself against you in the sweetest of tortures and you can feel just how much you’ve affected him, his dick- all hard and ready pressing against you. 

It drives you crazy how close he is and how unable you are to have him. You’re teasing the invisible line, but you’re not sure you’re brave enough to cross it.

“Stop fucking with my head like this,” he responds instantly, voice almost a growl. As if he was angry. “You’re not supposed to still have this hold over me, dammit.”

Was he angry at you? At himself? Both maybe?

In a risky move which you don’t entirely think through, you push back against him, pressing your body against his, crushing your stomach to his manhood, softly brushing your lips against the tiny space between you two just to tease him.

“Is that why you’re angry?” you whisper into the mostly non-existent space between you, peering into his eyes with a challenging kind of feigned innocence.

His knuckles turn white as his hold tightens on the counter. Heh. Barely restrained, you muse mentally, feeling your cunt pulse with arousal at the mere sight of him trying so hard to hold back from fucking you right here right now.

Because you could see in his eyes that he wanted to as much as you did. 

It was intense, similar to how it’d been two years ago. But it wasn’t the same, not even by a bit. It was as if two years apart had done the opposite of what you’d wanted and only made your ache for him three thousand times stronger.

And when you least expect it, he grips your jaw in his hands, looking at your face with those fucking eyes of his. Not inspecting, rather debating. With himself, most likely.

You hold your breath, deep down wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you and then bury himself so deep inside you, you wouldn’t even be able to remember your own goddamn name.

His touch felt like heaven after having been deprived of it for so long. You can’t help but lean into it, practically begging him to touch you more.

More, please.

“Chris,” his name tumbles from your lips unexpectedly- a breathy beseech, almost a moan.

He mutters a husky almost desperate “fuck” under his breath as his thumb softly brushes against your cheekbone like he’s used to do back then. Then he abruptly steps away from you, leaving you there- cold and unsuspectingly vulnerable.

...just like he used to do back then.

“It doesn't matter why I’m angry.” He answers roughly, lips pursing. “Won’t change anything, will it? We’re both still going to be two different people who are now on two very different paths.”

Despite how much that single statement hurts you, it also clears the desire-fog of the moment. You briskly come down from your high and find yourself suddenly remembering that you have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend and that nothing about what just happened was right. Even if it did feel like drinking water after days of walking a seemingly endless desert.

“You’re right,” you respond tightly, swallowing. “We’re both two people in committed relationships who have no business doing...” You left the rest unsaid because if you can avoid saying it out loud but still get your point across, it was worth it.

He smiles. He just smiles, but you know exactly what that means.

He agrees.

“We need to-“ he motions to his manhood, which was still so...excited. “I can’t-“

You cut him off, blushing madly because you were embarrassed beyond belief. “I- yeah. I-I don’t know what happened but it won’t happen again. We’re two adults now who know what their places are.” Your voice lowers. “We know with who those places are.”

He flinches slightly, nodding just the tiniest bit stiffly, “Yeah. Yeah...”

*

The next day you practically tumble out of bed, mind initially too foggy with tiredness to even focus on anything other than your sudden and entirely overwhelming need for coffee.

So in a zombie-like state, you pad your way to the kitchen, eyes squinting against the morning light filtering in from the open curtains. 

It takes you a second to realize it, but Kennedy, Chris, and Cassidy are already seated on the stools in the kitchen counter.

Chris and Kennedy are already stuffing their faces with bacon, eggs, and toast while Cassidy casually sips on her mug.

You mumble a croaky “Morning” on your way to the box of granola bars, ignoring the shiver that traveled down your spine when you felt his presence so near yours after what happened yesterday.

It was wrong. On so many levels.

And still, just thinking about his touch, his eyes, his practically tangible want, and your own, it makes you want to forget just how much.

It was all just so...intense. The very air particles were charged with energy that you couldn’t see but could feel in your very bones.

Your first day back and you’d already barely kept yourself together again. And the mortification of that after the high of the moment has dwindled down, hits you like a bucket of ice-cold water. 

It wouldn’t happen again though. Once more, not wanting to believe reality was real didn’t make it any less of a fact.

And just as it had been so intense yesterday; today all that you could feel was intense awkwardness being in the same room as him and his girlfriend knowing you’d shared a moment in this very room yesterday.

Not to mention what the hell were they doing here? Did he and Cassidy live in your damn house now?

After last night and how abruptly he’d left you in the kitchen when your conversation got a little bit too close to hitting a nerve, you expected him to be long gone by now.

Plucking a bar up, you make your way to the coffee machine, planning to make yourself a mug and then dip the fuck outta there as quickly as you could.

Kennedy’s voice interrupts you. “If you’re looking for coffee, there’s a mug for you at the table already, hun.”

You turn to look at her, brows furrowed. “Huh?”

She chuckles lightly, pointing at a steaming mug beside her and you hate her for being so sweet. “Chris was nice enough to make it for you; he guessed you’d probably want some first thing in the morning. I guess he was right.” She laughs, glancing at Chris. “Come sit. I’ll have a plate out for you in just a sec.”

You only hesitate for a second before nodding and walking over to the table nervously. Your eyes are plastered on him the entire time, the small yet sweet gesture making your heart flutter in ways you hadn’t felt for a while. 

He didn’t need to say it out loud for you to know he remembered how crazy you were about coffee. Especially first thing in the morning. 

As you sit in the stool positioned directly in front of him, you take the mug in your hands. “Thanks,” you murmur at him, taking a sip of the warm beverage and letting it travel down your esophagus. 

Your eyes widen when you realize he’d added exactly the amount of sugar you liked and even more shocking; he’d added the tiniest bit of cinnamon and nutmeg, a detail you remember telling him the grand amount of once. 

Chris focuses on his food just a little too much, ignoring your gaze at all costs as he nods in response. “Sure thing.”

Cassidy, on the other hand, smiles brightly at you and you can’t help but hate her too, for being so gorgeous this early in the fucking morning. 

They’re both already showered and dressed and you can’t help but blush when you realize you’re still in your pj's and your hair more than likely looks like a bird’s nest. 

“Morning,” she chirps perkily and you swear your eye twitches.

You return a polite smile nonetheless. “Morning Cassidy.”

She looks at you with an awkward and slightly sweet smile, murmuring under her breath. “I’m sorry about yesterday by the way. You didn’t need to witness that.”

You shrug lightly, fiddling with your granola bar. “It’s fine. I’m sorry for ya’ know-” you wave a hand, referring to your eavesdropping. “It wasn’t my place,” you whisper the last part. 

She shrugs, grinning crookedly. “It’s cool. I wouldn’t be able to help myself if I were you either.”

You glance at Chris only to find him already looking at you. His gorgeous blue pools of intensity shock you to your core. He discreetly grins, mouthing “nice PJs” to you before smugly taking a bite of his toast.

You want to retort something like “you saw them yesterday asshole”, but you bite your tongue and look down instead. 

Scoffing before taking a small bite of your granola bar, you shift uncomfortably in your stool as an uneasy silence once more falls upon you three. It only lightens when Kennedy comes back with a plate for you.

You take it gratefully, offering her the smallest of smiles as to not make her think she’s off the hook with you just yet. “Thanks.”

As you start to chew your food, you realize something. “Where’s Dad?”

Kennedy responds. “He went out to buy some things for the wedding.”

You hum in acknowledgment and another uncomfortable falls over the table. Surprisingly, Cassidy is the first one to break it.

“So,” she starts, smile and all. “Y/f/n tells me you’re in college now. What’re you majoring in?”

You immediately perk up at this, grateful for a conversational topic as well as just happy to talk about your studies. “Right now I’m majoring in psychology. I just love it,” you gush. 

You hear Chris snort bemusedly under his breath and all your heads simultaneously swivel to him. He’s smirking to himself, only confusing you further. 

“Baby?” Cassidy asks him and you have to physically fight back the urge to gag. 

He looks up and is bewildered to find you all staring at him. His brows furrow. “What?”

Kennedy smiles. “What’s so funny?”

He smirks, gaze flickering over to you. “Nothing. I just always figured that’s what you’d go for. Either that or journalism.”

You can’t help but smile, a bit taken aback by the accuracy of his statement. “How’d you-”

“You were always an open book, sweetheart,” is all he says, eyes twinkling.

You hold each other's gazes almost on instinct, stupid, goofy smiles spread wide on both your faces, a hidden understanding passing through you both. One nobody but you two was in on.

It didn’t worry you how well he knew you because you knew him just as well. There was no other way around it, you just did.

Cassidy clears her throat, snapping you both out of your little moment. You clear your own throat lightly, cheeks reddening as Chris looks away instantly. 

“Anyway,” Cassidy mumbles, visibly weirded out. “Chris and I are going out shopping.” She instantly perks up again, gripping his arm lovingly.

You really can’t help it when a pang of pain hits you in the chest and you grip your mug tighter, eyes unable to leave her long, slender, perfectly-manicured hands that grip onto his muscular bicep like it was the most natural position in the world. 

Like they were meant to be together. 

You can’t help but look down at your own nails. A pang of insecurity hits you when you’re met not with nicely manicured nails, but bitten down, uneven ones instead; courtesy of being a college student.   

You look at Cassidy closely, unable to help yourself when you begin to compare yourself to her. Her chest was bustier than yours, her build more slender and delicate, her skin tanned in a sun-kissed kind of way. She was tall and gorgeous. With glossy, healthy-looking dark hair and striking dark eyes.

You instantly feel yourself deflate when you find none of those attributes within yourself. Nothing about you was striking.

Maybe that’s why he preferred her. She was more beautiful and mature than you, after all.

What in the hell are you thinking Y/n? You mentally smack yourself. He is not yours. You have no claim over him and never forget, you have a boyfriend who loves you for who you are.

You make a mental note to call Daniel later. 

“What’re you shopping for?” Kennedy inquires, breaking you from your self-deprecating thoughts.

“Dresses. I have nothing to wear to the wedding,” Cassidy responds, practically beaming.

At the reminder, you choke on your drink. Crap. A dress. Right. 

Kennedy gently pats your back. “What happened, hun?” 

You lightly flinch away from her touch and she notices, quickly retracting her hand with a concerned frown. 

“I just-” you blush, biting your lip. “I don’t have a dress for the wedding either,” you whisper sheepishly. 

“Oh!” Kennedy waves you off. “It’s fine. I’m sure Cassidy and Chris would be happy to take you out shopping for one.” 

She shoots them a look. 

Cassidy instantly nods. “Yes. We’d love to.”

You can’t help but cringe at the idea because as soon as it’s brought up, Chris’ head snaps up and his gaze locks with yours. The same thought passes through you both.

Not good. Not good at all.

You try to shake your head and protest. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you guys. Really.”

Cassidy and Kennedy shake you off instantly, telling you that that was “nonsense” and that it was “fine”. 

You’d fought back hard, but eventually, they’d convinced you. The entire time you refused to look at Chris- too scared to see his reaction even though you felt him silently looking at you the entire time. 

You nod, picking up your plate and mug and quickly wash them, drying your hands afterward. “Fine. Just let me get ready really quick.”

A day out in the town with Chris and Cassidy? 

This was bad. This was so, so bad.

Read Chapter Four Here!!

***

As a writer, I thought having control of my stories would make me less emotionally invested in the characters than my readers. I was wrong.

A Special thanks to:

@star-spangled-steve

@tomoyaevaans

@pepsicolailovedogs

@whereeverythingisbetter

@fallenoutofrose

@plutonium-m

@beepbeepromanoff

@faithmichaluk

@sincerelytlh

@tomshelbystits 

@kind-sober-fullydressed

@liatnism

@sashimi-cat

@zofty15

@gemgemswift

@fafulous

And my forevers!

@jessikared97

@ladyofletters67​

@lilypalmer1987​

@sammykb1994​

@tomshelbystits​ 

[wisteriacourt]

congratulations, amy, tk, silver, & emmett ! we just heard you’ve signed your lease, & we look forward to having MICHAEL STEVENSON, QUINN GALE-MCVEY, COLE WINTERS, TAHJ MONTGOMERY & SHEN COLEMAN-PIERCE in our community ! you have ( 24 ) hours to submit your account(s), so please read over the checklist to ensure a smooth move-in process, & if you have any questions, we’re here for you ! as of making this post, the fc of ARMIE HAMMER, CHRIS WOOD, RICHARD MADDEN, MICHAEL B. JORDAN & WONG YUKHEI are taken unless no account is received. thank you !

( armie hammer, cis male, he/him  )  get this — i was coming home from work today and managed to get a good look at MICHAEL STEVENSON, and i almost got into a car accident. they sure are gorgeous, huh ? i heard they’re THIRTY-THREE and moved to wisteria court about TWO WEEKS ago, and that they’re currently working as a DOCTOR AT THE HOSPITAL. I’ve also heard that they’re GAY and really into ROUGH SEX, DADDY KINK, & SEX TOYS, what’s juiciest of all is that HE GIVES HAND JOBS TO THE SEXY YOUNG MEN AT THE END OF THEIR PHYSICALS. but you didn’t hear that from me, got it ? i’m just glad i’ll be seeing much more of them around. — penned by amy, 18+, est, lilac.

( chris wood, cisgender male, he/him ) get this — i was coming home from work today and managed to get a good look at QUINN GALE-MCVEY, and i almost got into a car accident. they sure are gorgeous, huh ? i heard they’re THIRTY-FIVE, and moved to wisteria court about TEN YEARS ago, and that they’re currently OWNER OF GM THEATER. i’ve also heard that they’re HOMOSEXUAL and really into SUITS/UNIFORMS, PUBLIC SEX, & EXHIBITIONISM. what’s juiciest of all is that HE WAS ORIGINIALLY ONLY INTERESTED IN MiCHAEL FOR HIS MONEY, but you didn’t hear that from me, got it ? i’m just glad i’ll be seeing much more of them around. — penned by tk, 24, est, hyacinths.

(  richard madden, male, he/him  )  get this — i was coming home from work today and managed to get a good look at COLE WINTERS, and i almost got into a car accident. they sure are gorgeous, huh ? i heard they’re THIRTY THREE, and moved to wisteria court about ONE WEEK ago, and that they’re currently WORKING AS AN VENTURE CAPITALIST. i’ve also heard that they’re HOMOSEXUAL and really into DADDY KINK, ROUGH SEX, & BITING. what’s juiciest of all is that THEY HIRE ESCORTS FROM TIME TO TIME, but you didn’t hear that from me, got it ? i’m just glad i’ll be seeing much more of them around. — penned by silver, 21, est, tulip.

( michael b. jordan, cismale, he/him )  get this — i was coming home from work today and managed to get a good look at TAHJ MONTGOMERY, and i almost got into a car accident. they sure are gorgeous, huh ? i heard they’re THIRTY-EIGHT, and moved to wisteria court about SIX YEARS ago, and that they’re currently WORKING AS A STRIPPER AT ACHILLES NIGHTCLUB + SEX EMPORIUM. i’ve also heard that they’re HOMOSEXUAL and really into CHOKING, NIPPLE PLAY, & ORGASM DENIAL. what’s juiciest of all is that HE WAS DISOWNED BY HIS PARENTS FOR SLEEPING WITH HIS FATHER’S BUSINESS PARTNER, but you didn’t hear that from me, got it ? i’m just glad i’ll be seeing much more of them around. — penned by emmett, 24, est, roses.

(  wong yukhei, cismale, he/him  )  get this — i was coming home from work today and managed to get a good look at SHEN COLEMAN-PIERCE, and i almost got into a car accident. they sure are gorgeous, huh ? i heard they’re EIGHTEEN, and moved to wisteria court about EIGHT YEARS ago, and that they’re currently WORKING AS AN AUTO MECHANIC AT DALE’S AUTOMOTIVE. i’ve also heard that they’re HOMOSEXUAL and really into ASS WORSHIP, PUBLIC SEX, & DIRTY TALK. what’s juiciest of all is that HE SLEEPS WITH A GOOD NUMBER OF CUSTOMERS AT HIS PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT, but you didn’t hear that from me, got it ? i’m just glad i’ll be seeing much more of them around. — penned by emmett, 24, est, roses.

[wp-yahoo-style-1042-yahoopa-blog]

Zoe Saldana’s 3 Sons Are Obsessed With Female Superheroes

Zoe Saldana. (Photo: Christopher Beyer/Getty Images)

If there’s a secret to having it all, Zoe Saldana hasn’t found it yet.

The actress, who plays bounty hunter Gamora in Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, is also raising twins Cy and Bowie, 2, and infant Zen with her artist husband, Marco Perego-Saldana (yes, he took her last name).

She documents the family’s globetrotting lifestyle on Instagram, so one can’t help but wonder: How does she headline huge film franchises with three kids under the age of 3 at home?

Saldana answers with her characteristic good-humored candor: “Our assistant, our nanny, and our housekeeper. They are literally raising our children with us. It’s because of them I am able to rip myself away as long as I can, and my husband as well, to do what we do. They’re teaching us how to manage our pain as they’re raising our kids with us.”

Thank god for these little guys, who keep me active. Best alternative to working out. Is my husband checking out my ass?? Cool! ????gracias a Dios por estos morochos que me mantienen activa sin cesar. Buena alternative al gimnasio. Estará mi marido dándome un vistazo?? Que bueno! #lovemyshape

A post shared by Zoe Saldana (@zoesaldana) on Apr 6, 2017 at 7:13pm PDT

It’s the rare celebrity who admits to having help at home, not doing everything single-handedly, regardless of the fact that it’s logistically impossible to work 16-hour days without having someone cook dinner or clean the bathroom.

She’s careful not to downplay the impact her long hours have on her brood. “When you’re away a little too much, it compromises a lot more things. It’s a sacrifice and a pain that will never go away. You take every day at a time. If something changes in their behavior, you know how to adjust to it,” Saldana says.

#gratitude #humbled #selfie

A post shared by Zoe Saldana (@zoesaldana) on May 2, 2017 at 6:23pm PDT

But then again, she’s justifiably proud of everything she has earned and wants that same sense of achievement to trickle down to her boys. Saldana, after all, wasn’t born into a Hollywood family, nor was anything ever handed to her.

“I don’t want to raise kids who put other people’s priorities first. They need to know how to put their priorities where they need to be,” says Saldana, 38. “You show them how you fight for your dreams.”

After a long day of shooting…popcorn! #gotgvol2 #Gamora #bts

A post shared by Zoe Saldana (@zoesaldana) on Apr 15, 2017 at 2:13pm PDT

For Saldana, the fear of being typecast by starring in three science fiction tentpoles — the Star Trek, Avatar, and Guardians of the Galaxy series — is outweighed by a desire to be a female role model in movies typically headlined by men. She recalls growing up and being “famished” for someone strong, smart, and powerful on the big screen who wasn’t a dude, someone like Ellen Ripley, the character played by Sigourney Weaver in the original Alien. And she sees the same hunger in her sons.

“I’m raising three boys as someone who has done three movies that have become franchises. My boys are obsessed with female superheroes. And we have to search high and low to find those toys,” she says.

A post shared by Zoe Saldana (@zoesaldana) on Apr 20, 2017 at 5:01pm PDT

Born in New York City and raised partially there and in the Dominican Republic (where her father grew up), Saldana is the middle of three daughters. But now, she says, she’s fully immersed in the world of boys. Her sons “are demanding a female presence as much as a male presence. I am accepting this ironic challenge that this universe has presented to me. I learn every day that men are marvelous and wonders of light, the same way I’ve been feeling about women, because I come from a family of matriarchs,” she says. “I’ve married a man that I worship every day, and I have sons that humble me to no end.”

Saldana is tight with her sisters. So playing Gamora, her Guardians of the Galaxy character, who has a fraught and ugly relationship with her sibling Nebula, was, well, a challenge at best; they’re pitted against each other by their abusive dad, Thanos. “I was emotionally compromised. I’m a sucker for father stories. I lost my dad when I was 9,” she says. “I can’t imagine a moment in our lives where (my sisters and I) have reached a place where we’ve caused irreparable damage. I went there, with Gamora and Nebula.”

A post shared by Zoe Saldana (@zoesaldana) on Apr 10, 2017 at 9:18pm PDT

There’s something utterly irresistible about Saldana, who’s effusive without being fake or cloying. Her husband is nearby during this evening interview, and when he walks up to her, Saldana recalls how he instantly charmed her when they first laid eyes on each other.

“I met this man, I shook his hand, and I’m like, ‘I’m going to have babies with you. I’m going to marry you. And my life is going to be done,'” she recalls of their first encounter. “After shaking hands at 6 a.m. on a plane, six months later we were married. Eight months later, we were pregnant. It wasn’t a joke. It really happened.”

Zoe Saldana in Emilio Pucci, with her husband, Marco Perego-Saldana. (Photo: Getty Images)

The two tied the knot in a secret wedding in 2013 and, to this day, they generally keep details about their lives private. They never show their sons’ faces on social media, a decision Saldana said she made because her boys should choose if and when they become public figures.

There is, however, one source of friction Saldana wants to address, when asked about her hubby’s gorgeously tousled tresses. “I’ll tell you his hair secret. He uses all of my hair products. That’s his secret. At least once every two weeks, I’m like, ‘Marco, I just bought this conditioner. Can you stop using it?’ He’s a dude. He’ll squeeze half a bottle and put it on his hair. Which is why I don’t buy expensive products to use on us,” she says.

Zoe Saldana in Alexander McQueen. (Photo: Getty Images)

When it comes to red carpet style, however, Saldana is all about the glam. She veers from slinky Roksanda and Alexander McQueen frocks to a monochromatic Prabal Gurung she donned in Hollywood. She’s a fan of both established brands and newcomers. One look that particularly stood out to her was the sculptural black Ulyana Sergeenko she wore to the London premiere of Guardians.

She views fashion as an extension of her work and not just something that’s foisted on her as an A-list celebrity: “If you make art out of everything you’re doing, the child in you can survive and not grow bitter or sarcastic or cynical,” she says. “I always push for sexiness, because as I grow older, my insecurity gets larger.”

Zoe Saldana in Ulyana Sergeenko. (Photo: Getty Images)

Wait, hold up. Saldana, with her willowy frame — the product of years of ballet as a youngster — and flawless skin, suffers from self-doubt? Of course she does, and refuses to pretend otherwise. She talks about the challenges of raising mixed-race boys and learning as they grow, while being mixed herself (her mom is Puerto Rican, her dad Dominican).

“I’m a human being, I’m an artist, I’m a woman in America during an unconventional presidency. It’s only logical for me to be honest. I owe the audience that much,” she says.

Read more from Yahoo Beauty + Style: • I Was There: Juiciest Behind-the-Scenes Moments From the Met Gala Red Carpet • Real Life Superhero Chris Pratt Makes Sick Kids’ Dreams Come True — and Unwinds With Caviar Facials • How Cutting Out Doughnuts Got Rid of Beth Behrs’s ‘Mortifying’ Skin Rash • ‘If It’s a Little Revealing, Whatever’ Is Ariel Winter’s Body-Positive Style Ethos • Laura Linney’s No-Frills Beauty Secrets: Popcorn and Meditation

[yoichooseno]

Sleep talking Headcanon/AU

-Viktor and Yuuri both talk in their sleep. -Yuuri usually talks about whatever he’s dreaming about. -He can explain why he said what he did the next morning, if told what he said. -“stop bedazzling my stuff, Chris!” -“I WILL get gold!” -“I’m the juiciest pork cutlet bowl you’ve ever seen” -He also mumbles. -Viktor says the weirdest shit. -Not usually full sentences. -He never remembers the dream, and therefore there is never any context for what he’s said. -“Yuuri’s ass” -“oh, nuts” -“Eros’ pet turtle” -Viktor and Yuuri have had conversations in their sleep. -Chris and Pichit both have dozens of videos of this. -Yurio refuses to share a hotel room with them. -He’s been woken on numerous occasions by their babbling. -Even through hotel walls. -He won’t sleep within three rooms of them. -Yurio still holds a grudge over the time Viktor screamed so loud that he fell out of bed. -Yurio swears Yuuri cackles on his sleep. -Otabek also talks in his sleep. -Yurio thinks it’s adorable. -There is no shortage of comments on the hypocrisy.

[wisteriacourt]

congratulations, zan & jaja ! we just heard you’ve signed your leases, & we look forward to having MICHAEL GALE-MCVEY, BELLAMY O’SHEA, & CAMPBELL MCCANN in our community ! you have ( 24 ) hours to submit your accounts, so please read over the checklist to ensure a smooth move-in process, & if you have any questions, we’re here for you ! as of making this post, the fc’s of HUGH JACKMAN, CHRIS HEMSWORTH, & JACOB ELORDI are taken unless no account is received. thank you !

( hugh jackman, cis male, he/him ) get this — i was coming home from work today and managed to get a good look at MICHAEL GALE-MCVEY, and i almost got into a car accident. they sure are gorgeous, huh ? i heard they’re FORTY-NINE, and moved to wisteria court about 10 YEARS ago, and that they’re currently THE OWNER OF GM ENTERTAINMENT. i’ve also heard that they’re GAY and really into ROUGH SEX, DIRTY TALK, & EXHBITIONISM. what’s juiciest of all is that HE SLEEPS WITH ANY ACTOR UNDER THE CONTRACT HE CAN, but you didn’t hear that from me, got it ? i’m just glad i’ll be seeing much more of them around. — penned by zan, 24, est.

( chris hemsworth, cis-male, he/him ) get this — i was coming home from work today and managed to get a good look at BELLAMY O’SHEA, and i almost got into a car accident. they sure are gorgeous, huh ? i heard they’re THIRTY-SIX, and moved to wisteria court about TEN YEARS ago, and that they’re currently OWNER OF THE KISS & TELL BAR + LOUNGE. i’ve also heard that they’re HOMOSEXUAL and really into FEMINIZATION, NIPPLE PLAY, & ASS WORSHIP. what’s juiciest of all is that LAUNDERS MONEY FOR HIS EX-HUSBAND’S CRIME EMPIRE, but you didn’t hear that from me, got it ? i’m just glad i’ll be seeing much more of them around. — penned by ooc jaja, 26, est.

( jacob elordi, cis-male, he/him ) get this — i was coming home from work today and managed to get a good look at CAMPBELL MCCANN, and i almost got into a car accident. they sure are gorgeous, huh ? i heard they’re TWENTY-ONE, and moved to wisteria court about EIGHT YEARS ago, and that they’re currently a COLLEGE FOOTBALL PLAYER. i’ve also heard that they’re BISEXUAL and really into ROUGH SEX, SLUT SHAMING, & BODY WORSHIP. what’s juiciest of all is that BLACKMAILED HIS COLLEGE RECRUITER TO GET A SPOT ON THE FOOTBALL TEAM, but you didn’t hear that from me, got it ? i’m just glad i’ll be seeing much more of them around. — penned by jaja, 26, est.